#Sexy Trash (Self)

[slythernnn]

Decided to hop on the Hozier challenge bandwagon lol

[chanelpirate]

I hear y’all but also can we talk about how bellafrancesca clearly dommed dracula back to full power

[ghostfacetheballfondler]

delusions of grandeur are acting up again. except they're extra strong. calling them delusions feels like lying. because are they really delusions if i'm actually right?

everyone around me is so much less than i am. so fucking dumb. proving me right over and over again for the rest of their lives

even my friends, who i thought were better than the average person, ended up proving themselves to be just as inferior.

the only use humans have for me is to look cute while they stroke my ego. they're all the same anyways. replaceable things.

bleh.

[suiana]

✎ yandere! dilf headcanons . . .

✎ warnings . . .

― obsessiveness, possessiveness, manipulation(?), mentions of violence, implicated stalking and stealing, legal age gap, breeding kink 💀, etc.

(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)

✎ yandere! dilf who hired you as his son's tutor. he's just so worried that his darling son won't be able to keep up with school :( as a result you were hired to tutor him :D he actually doesn't know how you look like yet, but guessing from your profile picture you're a granny..?

✎ yandere! dilf who couldn't help but be enamoured with you the second you stepped inside his house. wait why were you so cute? didn't he hire an old- huh?! oh that was a picture of your grandma... oh well, he shouldn't have guessed. how else is he supposed to calm his boner now?

✎ yandere! dilf who's watering at your innocence. oh you're such a sweet thing! bright eyes sparkling with the desire to teach his son! your future son! he's so glad he's divorced... he's dead set on making you his beloved little thing. and you can't do anything to change it~!

✎ yandere! dilf who falls for you more and more with each tuition session. oh you just look so adorable! and that outfit you wore last session! it was so cute! he really had a hard time holding himself back you know? he's imagining tearing apart your outfit while marking you up now-!

✎ yandere! dilf who is older than you. I mean, he literally has a 15 year old son so it would be expected that he's old. but... he's still handsome! so you can consider him... right? oh please give him a chance! he'd hate to have to break you down completely :( yes he's that in love with you to the point where he won't mind breaking you down and rebuilding you to how he wants you to be ♡

✎ yandere! dilf who's extremely flirty and embraces his dilf-ness. rolling up his sleeves to expose his veiny forearms, unbuttoning his top two buttons to expose his defined chest, subtly flirting with you every time he sees you... just two tuition sessions ago he stood so close to you to the point where you could smell his cologne and see his man boobs?! you had to spend that entire tuition session clenching your fists just to focus. oh those sexy man boobs! his cleavage ! why is his body so sexy?! don't worry, if you wanted to touch he'll be more than happy to let you feel him up :)

✎ yandere! dilf who can't stop thinking about bashing in the heads of anyone who's glanced in you. no one should be taking in your divine self except for him and his son. those trash can't worship and love you like he does. hm... maybe he should just kidnap you? keep you all to himself. yeah, that sounds like a good plan.

✎ yandere! dilf who has a little shrine dedicated to you in his study. aw, how cute! it's just a small picture of you and a flower- wait is that your missing underwear? and is that your lost diary?! why's your entire schedule noted down with lots of hearts scribbled on it?! how'd he- there's no way he stalked you... right?

✎ yandere! dilf who gets his son to talk to you about how he's so lonely and wants another parent desperately... you're smart so you'll get what he means, won't you? after all, can you resist those watery eyes and the slight sniffling his son is doing? and he's sure you don't have any other tutees due to how much he's paying you already... so it's alright to be his, no?

✎ yandere! dilf who wants to breed you. it doesn't matter whether or not you can actually have children, he'll still want to breed you. imagining you round and full with his children... it just turns him on oh so much.

✎ yandere! dilf who really wouldn't mind a new addition to his family. I mean, for the past... 11 years it's only been him and his son :( and he finds it so lonely in his big mansion without anyone to accompany him... you understand what he's saying right? don't worry, you'll never have to lift a finger again should you accept his offer. he's rich after all :)

✎ "hn? oh my son did good, huh? should I reward you for being an amazing tutor? I know just how to thank you after all..."

[sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame]

*Angrily looks around* ok so we're not writing more werewolf Valeria???? Fucking fine I'll do it myself

En Sus Marcus Part 1/?

Part 2

Summary: Valeria hunts you through the woods, fucks the shit out of you. Congratulations you won and you're her pet housewife now <3

2nd person omniscient, black reader, she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, no actual smut in this chapter but still sexy as fuck, kinda dubcon, but reader's DEF into it, bimbo reader, reader's dumb as shit y'all. That being said I could see myself doing similar, dom Valeria, sub reader, predator/prey dynamic, fucky and inaccurate Spanish (corrections greatly appreciated)

This is self indulgent trash and I the humble outdoor cat feasting on the week old chicken wings inside it.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

It was stupid to be out in the forest this late, you knew how stupid it was to be in the forest this late.

You'd been so exhausted, your boss had worked you to the bone for the last three fucking years and still had the nerve to complain when you used your pto for a single week off to enjoy Halloween—your least busy week of the year—by yourself in a cozy little cabin in the woods.

But you were stupid. So stupid. And so scared. Your first day in you nearly gave yourself carbon monoxide poisoning when you forgot to open the fireplace hatch. Your second day you'd left the gas on for an hour and set the smoke alarm off for the second time in three days, and now, your third day in, you saw what looked like a limping dog outside, in the pitch black darkness and your dumbass decided to follow it?

You were cursing yourself out the entire time. Horror movie rule number one was without fail, the black guy dies first. And here you were waltzing into the woods after a random animal that you full well could've hallucinated.

But you didn't. You know you didn't. And while that dog was huge, if it was willing to come that close to the house it had to have been someone's pet. Even if it was a wolf dog or something it was obvious it had been abandoned. You weren't a vet, but it seemed way too alert and aware of how you stood by the door. You'd seen YouTube videos of how animals with rabies acted. They were haunting, but the dog didn't move like that. Aside from a slight limp its head still darted towards you when it spotted you looking out the giant glass door into the backyard. It heard you calling after it, its tongue lolled out of its mouth for godsake.

You couldn't explain why or how, and you hoped it wouldn't attack you because explaining why you left the house to medical professionals would make you feel like the biggest wet noodle known to man, but it looked like it wanted you to come closer. So you did.

Hesitantly.

You walked towards it slowly, making sure to avoid eye contact and making yourself look too big or too small, trying to remember the "if it's black fight back, if it's brown get down" rule and whether or not that only applied to bears. You managed to close enough distance between the two of you that you could shine your phone's weak flashlight on the creature to check if there was any blood on it.

Thankfully there wasn't, not so thankfully it got up, and calmly walked further into the woods, turning its head back every few steps to stare at you pathetically.

At this point, maybe if you hadn't finished half a bottle of pink moscato and weren't a little tipsy, you would've recognized that it was probably just politely asking you to back off. In the way an animal does when it does not want to fight. But sadly, you had. And the wolf wasn't staring at you like that. It was staring at you like how dogs stare at people in those probably faked rescue videos where they lead the cameraman to a den full of newborn puppies.

You didn't know what was wrong with this animal but you knew you wouldn't be able to sleep at night if you didn't make sure. And you didn't know that there were multiple hotlines in the area you could call instead of risking both of your lives.

It kept looking back at you, tail flat on its back, ears pinned back, what could only be considered a giant dopey looking smile on its face as you trailed behind it for long enough that your feet started to hurt despite the hiking boots you'd thrown on before leaving the house.

You were freezing sadly because it was the least practical element of your outfit.

You were in a lacy pink silk nightie that stopped just at your thigh. Those thick brown thighs jiggling a little with each step. If you'd bent over, the wolf could've gotten a nice and pleasant view of your pussy peaking out from underneath the fabric cause you never went to bed with panties on. You could've run to pick some up but you didn't want to chance that the animal would be gona by the time you got back with no proof of if it even existed.

Your phone battery was low. Not dangerously so, but enough that it made you really stupid for going out without your little pink portable charger.

But it was such a stupid spontaneous decision. One you'd spend the rest of your life paying for.

You froze when the wolf darted out of sight suddenly. So fast you didn't have time to point your light towards the direction it ran, it was gone before your eyes had caught up to your ears and processed the few rustling of leaves in the distance.

And now you were painfully aware of the fact that you were alone in the woods. And you had no idea how far you'd gone off the path. And that even if it had stayed, the injured animal probably couldn't offer you much help against a bear, or worse, a man with a gun.

You started shivering, the crisp fall air was delightful in the early mornings, but it had gotten dark that day at 5pm and it was in the high forties now. You weren't even wearing a little sweater to keep your arms warm.

Valeria saw this.

She hadn't actually been injured. She wasn't even limping believe it or not, you just weren't wearing your glasses and couldn't tell that she was walking normally. Let alone that she was much much bigger than a wolf dog.

You smelled divine with your pumpkin spice body oil and the cheap wine clinging to your lips.

Valeria was here for fun too. She owned these woods. And everything in them. She was stunned that you hadn't noticed how deadly silent your romantic evening walk had been. There were so many signs this was a trap.

It wasn't at first, of course. She rented the cabin out. She liked to see who stayed in her home away from home when she wasn't there. What they smelled like. Tasted like. If they looked fun to hunt. But then there you were. Standing outside in your pretty pink dress, her favorite color glowing against your skin and making you look like a goddess underneath the light of the moon. Normally she'd have left you alone. She'd always had a soft spot for pretty girls. But you looked and smelled so divine she just had to get closer. And closer. And closer.

She realized you'd spotted her the moment she realized you were her mate.

She could've shat herself she was so scared. The elation from finding her mate and complete dread at the fact that you were so gullible consumed her with every step you took further into the forest.

She'd have to teach you a lesson.

With all the spoiling she was gonna do to you, you'd probably get bratty. She'd have to teach you many more. She wasn't complaining.

But for now, you needed to learn why you don't follow strange animals into the woods.

And you needed to learn that you were hers. Quickly.

You looked around erratically. On the verge of tears. She could hear your little heartbeat racing.

That's when she decided to shift back.

"Excuse me, are you alright?" She nearly convinced herself she meant it.

You jolted around and immediately started bawling. She wrapped her arms around you, pressing you to her bare chest.

"Hey, it's alright. Can you tell me what happened, princesa?

You nodded, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I've just been so stressed at work and there was this dog—I think it was a wolf dog, and she's hurt and she's definitely someone's pet and she looked like she was leading me to her puppies and I got worried cause if she was willing to lead me there, that means she'd be willing to lead someone dangerous there, so I followed her and we went too deep into the woods and I'm on vacation, I don't know these woods, I'm from L.A.!"

She nodded along, trying to hold back her laughter.

"Pobrecita. You just need someone to protect you, huh?"

You froze. Suddenly and painfully aware of the fact that your head was pressed directly into the bare tits of another woman. You were far from displeased and it wasn't the first time, but still, why in the flying fuck would there be a woman in the woods even more naked than you were?

"Um, ma'am, why are you naked?"

She tossed her head back laughing.

"Ay, que rico, la niña que no lleva nada más que su lencería quiere saber por qué estoy desnuda."

You were kicking yourself mentally at the fact that you hadn't been more serious about learning Spanish all these years. That little green owl was going to kill you if this weird ass woman didn't do the job for him.

"I'm sorry?" Was all you said instead, trying to make your way out of her embrace.

It didn't work. She did let you wiggle around enough that you could crane your neck to look up at her, however, and by god were you grateful. Big pretty brown eyes, hair the perfect length to tug on while she ate you out, an aquiline nose. And the most beautiful, wolfish smile you could ever imagine.

She was the kind of woman that'd make you leave a cafe to avoid embarrassing yourself in front of her.

You immediately felt guilty for sexualizing her despite the fact that she was naked and had pressed your face into her tits two seconds ago.

"Shit, you're not doing so hot either, huh? Do you wanna go back to where I'm staying and get some hot chocolate, maybe a shower? Alone! Of course! I can call anyone if you need help too! Oh wait I forgot I had my phone! I can just call the sheriff or something—" she grabbed your phone out of your hands and threw it off into the woods.

You were silent for an embarrassingly long time.

"What the fuck dude." You said it so quietly and calmly Valeria couldn't help but laugh.

"Don't worry. I'll remember where it went in the morning."

You tried with a lot more fervor to put yourself far out of arms reach from the woman, failing every time. She didn't even have to exert a large amount of strength to pin you to her. You didn't let it stop you, but you knew, you wouldn't be moving unless she let you.

She let her long, sharp—sharper than they should be, you had a fresh set of stilettos, they were not that sharp—nails graze your skin just slightly. A warning. You weren't dumb enough to miss that.

"Stop. Moving." Something was wrong. She growled at you. You'd been growled at before in bed by exes, they didn't sound like that. She sounded like she was barely able to form the words. Like she was twisting her vocal cords around to make sense of the random sounds and syncopations that just so happened to make your little pussy drool.

"Here's what's going to happen, princesa. I'm going to give you..." she leaned in to sniff at your bonnet, shivering and pressing her mouth to your forehead, letting out a moan as her hand snaked down your waist to rub at your ass, just above where your nightgown had already ridden up more than dangerously high. "Ten seconds."

"...Ten seconds to what?"

You could feel her grin grow unnaturally wide against you.

"To run."

This time you shivered. This poor woman was crazy and in need of help and here you were getting off on her delusions. What a creep.

"And then when I catch you, I'm going to breed that wet little pussy. I'm going to take you home. And I'm going to fill you up some more, sólo para asegurarme de que funciona."

You were having a hard time breathing. Her voice was so low and even. Her fingers danced at the hem of your dress and as awful as it was you didn't even want to run. You wanted her to snake her fingers just a bit lower and breed you here. You needed her fingers, her cock, her mouth, whatever she'd give you. You could feel your own cum pooling down your thighs which had literally never happened to you before. She was causing chemical reactions in your body you weren't sure had been previously seen within the human race.

She huffed, smiling a bit.

"Oh! Someone's excited."

You whimpered a bit, at the sensation of her claws digging into the fat of your ass.

"Let's get something straight, princesa. If you don't run properly," she pressed you even closer to her, "if you don't make the chase fun," she trailed her nose down the side of your face, pressing you impossibly close. Her grip so tight it was starting to actually hurt, "then I'll kill you."

You laughed a little bit, or tried to. Wheezed would be more accurate.

"Oh, I'm not kidding. Tengo que demostrar que serás una buena compañera, nena. Que te aseguraras de que tus hijas sean fuertes."

Valeria was of course, lying. But you didn't know that. You didn't know that she'd make sure your kids would grow up nice and strong and much much smarter than their ditsy mother was the day they first met.

"You ready, coñejita?" Her grip loosened slightly, and you immediately took your chance to bite her on the neck. Hard. Hoping she'd let go completely and you'd be able to run back to your cabin and use the ancient house phone before she cut the lines or something.

She didn't though, she just frowned. But you could see the edges of her lips fighting to twitch up into her normal Cheshire grin.

"I didn't say it was time to start running, coñejita."

She grabbed your jaw and tilted your head to the side, trailing her sharp teeth down your neck. You felt like they were cutting skin but her hot breath soothed the ache the second it started.

"En su marca."

She grabbed your ass so hard you could feel the chill night air on your dripping cunt.

"Lista."

She pressed a kiss to your neck with a gentleness you wouldn't have guessed she'd be capable of.

"Fuera."

You knew what it meant but she still didn't let go. She wanted you to feel it through your body when the chase had really begun.

She whispered into you ear, teasingly. Joyfully. An excited impatience emanating from her voice.

"Run."

[thornbutch]

One Night Only (Pt. 2) (18+)

check out my masterlist! ♡ | pics r not mine.

Part One | Part Two

Pairings: Jordan Li x Fem!Reader, (brief) Andre Anderson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Past experiences have wrecked Jordan’s perception of their true feelings. The pretty girl from a week ago isn’t making their situation any better. Cue angst and car sex.

Tags: Jordan Li x fem!reader, Gen V, Jordan Li is a toxic, jealous, sexy piece of shit, cursing, angst, sensitive reader, sapphic make out sesh, Corruption kink, smut, mature content, Jordan might be a little OOC? Sorry. I wrote this in two hours.

Word Count: 2.7k

Jordan Li was probably the most confusing human being she had ever encountered. Ever since that night, he had been ignoring her. She’d see him in the courtyard at lunch, wave, and be disappointed when he didn’t wave back. She knew he saw her. What was his problem?

A week went by since the night she entangled with Jordan. She had finally come to terms with the fact that Jordan didn’t see her as anything but a one-night stand. She couldn’t explain why she felt so hurt by this. Maybe Jordan regretted what happened. Or maybe she was some kind of revenge hook-up? She had dealt with that before; her body being used to make someone else jealous. But that didn’t seem like a thing Jordan would do. On the other hand, she didn’t know Jordan much. She knew he was number five on the list. She knew that he had been Dr. Brink’s TA, but other that, his story was a mystery to her.

The next time she saw him, she was determined to get his attention. She didn’t care if she embarrassed him. How dare he treat her like trash? He owed her an explanation. If she had did something wrong, she’d like to know. If he wished he could forget that night, she had a right to know. She doesn’t know why it bothered her so much, but it did. He didn’t have to fuck her again, but he could’ve at least waved or said hello when he saw her in public.

She had gotten information from Maverick, the dorm’s resident assistant. She demanded to know where Jordan’s room was in the sweetest way. She fluttered her eyelashes and put her hands together in a praying form, begging him over and over to tell her until he finally did.

“God, you freshman are so fucking annoying! Can’t a guy jerk off in peace?” She didn’t have time to wonder if he was jerking off in that moment, due to his invisibility. She’d question him again later on that, because ew.

She made her way to Jordan’s room, knocking on the door once, twice, three times.

“Coming!” She heard a feminine voice shout from behind the door.

Had she arrived at the wrong room? No, Mark was adamant on the floor level and room number.

Plus, she recognized that smell of hefty cologne from the night Jordan fucked her senseless.

So who was-

Oh. She had approximately five seconds to walk, no sprint, away from this situation. She could’ve made it behind a wall or scurried off into a communal bathroom. She had time.

But she stood there, dumbfounded and hurt.

The girl from the other side opened the door, “Can I-“

She stood there.

Her doe eyes brimmed with tears. What the fuck? What the actual fuck? She didn’t own Jordan. She wasn’t his girlfriend. He made it very clear that he didn’t want to be with her.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, “Wrong door.”

Before the girl had anything to say, she was running down the hallway and exiting the building.

. . .

That was all it took for her to move on. Now, she was back to her normal self. Fuck Jordan Li, and fuck whoever that girl was at the door.

She was undoubtedly pretty, but also handsome at the same time. She kind-of looked like Jordan a bit, but she highly doubted it was a relative. Some guys were into shit like that, fucking the “girl” versions of themselves.

Ick.

She was tired of parties. They were fun, sure. It was nice to get out and get drunk and fuck here and there, but she needed an escape from that environment. She opted to go to a bar instead, one of the local ones near campus that served as a hot spot for the students.

She put on a black, tubed dress that stopped at her mid-thigh. She chose one of her favorite leather jackets to match with it and similar-looking black leather boots that came up just below her knee. It was different than what she’d normally wear. The white dresses, jean skirts, and pink accents made her look cute, but it seemed like people took advantage of that. They thought she was naïve and not aware of their schemes.

She was smart, that much was evident. As pretty as she was, she was also sexy, and she’d be damned if she didn’t own that shit.

The bar was far quieter than the frat parties, but still loud nonetheless. Supes and normals mingled here. One thing they both had in common was their love for alcohol. It seemed to bring them together and offer peace against outside situations.

The moment came when she was asked if someone could buy her a drink. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place her finger on it. He had curly, dark brown hair and deep black eyes. He was good-looking, she couldn’t deny that.

“I’m a freshman,” she stated. The man laughed.

“You say that like I’m old,” he said as he bought himself a drink, “I’m only a junior.”

She smiled, knowing that he was in her age range and a fellow student calmed her. “I’m (Y/n).”

He took a sip from his glass, “Andre,” he replied, “You have a coin on you?”

She nodded, reaching into her black velvet purse to retrieve a quarter. She handed it to him, and he examined it thoroughly.

“Look,” he held the quarter between his forefinger and thumb, “If I could make this-“ she watched as the quarter transformed before her eyes, the metal twisting and bending to create the shape of a bird, “into her drink-“ he looked over at a woman sitting down, holding a champagne glass in her hand, “then you have to come home with me.”

“Oh, I have to?” She smirked.

“I don’t make the rules,” he shrugged and grinned back, “Just enforce them.”

Before she could reply, she felt a familiar presence loom over her. She turned around, met with a firm chest and a heavy scent.

Jordan.

“She’s not into your lame ass party tricks, Andre,” Jordan said.

Andre scoffed, blistering a false offended look on his face, “Lame? C’mon, Jordan, don’t be like that.”

Jordan rolled his eyes, “She’s not interested, got it?”

Andre rolled his eyes as well, his fists bawled up and the once floating medal bird turned into a dense ball, “It’s 2023. Women can speak for themselves.”

“Right,” Jordan looked down at you, finally including you in on the conversation that he interrupted, “Are you interested?”

She was taken aback by the question. She sputtered a little, swapping glances between Andre and Jordan. Whatever this was, she did not want to be apart of it. Fuck Jordan for ruining this.

“No.” She said. Andre held his hands up in defeat, grabbed his drink, and walked away from the bar and into the crowd. She turned back to Jordan then and stood up. “Fuck you.”

“You already did,” he said.

She pushed him then. “No, fuck you. Fuck you for being an asshole to me all this week and then popping up to ruin-“

“Ruin what, exactly? Where you going to go home with him, huh? Fuck him, too? Let him see you the way I saw you?”

“Excuse me?” She raised her hand to slap him, but he caught it. His grip was tight and bruising. A few bystanders gathered around them.

“Let’s go to my car.” Jordan tugged her towards the exit. She barely had time to register what was going on before she felt the cold breeze of the night air swift through her nostrils and blow on her exposed skin.

He opened the passenger door for her. A gentleman. What kind of gentleman would dare to ask to her that way? Just who did he think he was? Her fucking boyfriend?

She got in, and he slammed the door closed. She stared out the window as he felt the car dip a little with the weight of Jordan getting in on the driver’s side.

The car was silent.

“Are we playing the quiet game or something?” .

She nodded.

He sighed, “Look, you have every right to hate me-“

“I do.”

“-but I need to explain something to you.”

She could feel her anger bubbling up. Her knees bounced against the car floor. She continued to stare out the window. “Explain.”

“The girl you saw, she was-“

Oh, not this lousy and overused excused. He really thought she was dumb. It wasn’t just something she had made up in her mind. This was evidence.

She turned, tears just about to spill past her eyelids, “Your sister? Your cousin? Your best friend?” She scoffed, “You think I’m stupid. You ignore me for a week, a week, Jordan. Then you decide you can whisk me away like you’re some kind of Prince Charming?”

“That’s not-“

“You embarrass me in front a cute guy because what? You’re jealous? You don’t like to see your one-night stand hooking up with other people but don’t mind not bothering to wave back when she waves at you?”

“(Y/n)-“

“But maybe I am stupid. You asked if I was interested, and I said no. You opened the door for me, and I got in. You folded my panties and tucked me in and left and treated me like I didn’t exist.”

Jordan watched intently as she spewed all the horrible shit they had done to her. They didn’t think it would affect her so much. They’d hate to be ignored, too, but they’d get over it. They could tell she convinced herself she was over them, over the entire situation. If she was moved on, she wouldn’t have turned down Andre’s offer, and she wouldn’t have entered their vehicle.

“-and now you’re not fucking listening, great.” She folded her arms and dramatically laid back against the seat. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her makeup was ruined. Black streaks of mascara coated the skin.

“I’m sorry,” they said. “You’re right. Not about the stupid thing, the fucked up thing. It was wrong of me to ignore you, I just…” Jordan breathed in shakily. This was so out of character for them. “I didn’t think you liked me.”

She turned towards the window again, staring at her own reflection.

“And… the girl you saw wasn’t my sister, cousin, or best friend,” They could feel their chest tightening, “She was me.”

She watched in the reflection as Jordan morphed into the girl she had seen earlier. She turned back sharply, completely in shock at what she just witnessed.

“You-“

“Yeah. I’m bigender, or whatever the fuck,” Jordan sighed. They felt vulnerable in this form. They tucked a strand of their longer black hair behind their ear and looked beyond the front windshield, “I didn’t want you thinking that I-“

“That you’re into women who look like you?” She responded.

“Yes,” Jordan snorted, “But I was going to say that I wasn’t using you. Or- I didn’t use you. That wasn’t my intention.”

“Do you normally fuck girls and abandon them?”

“I normally don’t get jealous when I see someone else flirting with them,” they looked at her then, “I didn’t like what I saw. When he flirted with you using his medal-bending ability. It was corny.”

She let out a small laugh, wiping away her tears, “It was kind of corny.”

Jordan nodded, “I was… afraid. I’m not used to feeling like this, but I am used to it at the same time. Girls, they fuck me in my masculine form and want nothing to do with me in my feminine form. Guys are vice versa.”

She listened to every word coming from their mouth.

“I guess I’ve grown accustomed to blocking people out without asking if they’d accept both versions of me.”

The car was quiet once more.

“Accustomed,” she whispered, “that’s a big word.”

Jordan rolled their eyes.

“I don’t mind,” she was no longer looking at them, instead focusing on her hands that she held in her lap, “I wouldn’t have judged you. I’m not judging you.”

“You’re not?”

“I think you’re the most handsomest and prettiest person I’ve ever seen,” she said.

They could feel their ears tint with red.

“I understand why you were nervous, but I wish you would’ve talked to me before doing all of this,”

“I’m sorry,”

“I know,” she faced them, bringing her hands to cup their soft jawline, “I forgive you.”

Their lips met with hers, but not like how they did at the frat party. This time was more passionate, sweeter, and less rough. She broke the kiss to climb over the armrest and straddle them. Jordan leaned the chair back as far as it would go to give her enough room to sit on their lap. She took off her leather jacket. Their hands held onto her waist, keeping her in place. She liked being on top and knowing that she had no control. They liked being underneath her and knowing that they were still the dominant one.

They began to kiss each other harder. More hunger. They craved her. She must’ve worn this black outfit in retaliation. She looked pretty in white. She looked pretty in black. She looked pretty naked. She was the most beautiful girl they had ever seen, and now they had her right where they wanted her.

She had been hogging their memory ever since that night. They’d slip their hands into their pants during late hours of the night, fondling their clit and breathing her name in heavy gasps as they imagined her touching them. They pinched their nipples, imagining her biting them. They wanted to see her between their thighs, eating them out with her back arched and her eyes closed because she was so into it.

“Am I doing good?” They imagined she would say.

They’d tell her she was doing amazing as they fucked their pussy onto her face.

They’d have to take a late-night shower, having soaked their boxers in their secretion. Their shirt would stick to their back from how hot they were and how much they were sweating during a simple masturbation session.

They wondered if she touched herself. Maybe she was so pent up with frustration that she couldn’t help but fuck it out of herself. She’d use two fingers right off the bat. Her legs would be spread open, and her clothes discarded into a heap at the edge of her bed.

“Jordan,” she’d moan.

“Jordan,” she moaned.

They were brought back to the present, pulling away from her lips. Both of their chests rise and fell with great intensity. They bought their hand up to her face, placing their thumb on her lip and parting them. She opened willingly, allowing their thumb to enter her wet cavern.

She sucked feverishly, all while maintaining eye contact.

“Fuck,” Jordan cursed. They could feel how wet they were in their stiff jeans.

She pulled their thumb out of her mouth with a barely audible pop!

“I want to touch you,” she said.

Yes, yes, please, yes.

She pulled up their shirt, revealing a flat stomach that had the shadows of their abs present. They didn’t wear a bra. She was very understanding of that, too. It’d be extremely uncomfortable for them to shift and feel the hard clasps of the bra digging into their back.

She cupped their breast tenderly, swiping her thumb over the nipple. Jordan couldn’t tell if she’d been with women before. Was she an expert? Or was she just doing what she did when she touched herself?

She pinched and they shifted unexpectedly. She leaned back, her ass hitting the steering wheel and blaring the horn.

It was quiet for the third time.

They apologized for startling her. She told them it was okay.

Then, she busted out laughing, falling onto them. They laughed, too.

“I guess that’s a sign,” she said.

“A sign for what?”

“To take me back to your place.”

She didn’t have to say anything else.

[themareverine]

Subaru, It's You | worst!Logan x nameless!femOC

warnings: fluff, domesticity, absolutely self indulgent, mentions of a car accident, based on some limited Googling I’ve placed Logan and Deadpool in Hoboken, NJ.

a/n: car shopping with Logan torturing the salesman and being sexy, lol. can only imagine. absolutely no idea where this came from, took me 20 minutes on my phone. Enjoy.

“I just wanna know if the heads have been done, baby.”

Nervously twisting her foot against the stones and other used-car lot gravel has done little to sway Logan’s insistence on forcing the underpaid salesman to answer earthbending questions just short of torturous. Twice already the man had left back into the office to retrieve records—hasn’t been smart enough to just keep the file on hand. Kids these days, is all Logan had muttered. The man was no less than 55, at a wild hair guess—gray mottling his beard and once-copper hair was evidence.

Attention welded firmly to the top the motor humming quietly in front of him, Logan’s hands slip into his pockets as he studies. He’d been taking her to car dealerships all afternoon, for nearly five weekends in a row—money burning holes in the pockets of his Wranglers, no doubt.

Unable to find anything remotely worth his time, Logan had been nitpicking since she’d proudly waved the check from Geico proudly overhead. Like a battle flag staked in the survival of a car accident, it wasn’t a life changing amount of cash—meager, actually, considering the vehicle lost. She’d trashed the Tuscon on the backroads of Tennessee valley country, a tried and true companion with well over two hundred thousand on the dash and the Midwestern rust to prove it.

A wreck she’d walked away from. Logan had all but flown to her aid—he hadn’t slept the thirteen hours and thirty eight minutes it had taken to rescue her from hill country. With little warning, he’d packed a backpack, punched out of Jersey with his Jeep. Gas station coffee, cigars, and a stashed bottle of Jack Daniel’s under the front seat had found her, swept her up in a kiss and concern, and whisked her back to Hoboken.

And in true Logan fashion, he’d kept under wraps his intentions until that check hit the mailbox. Or, rather—a Snapchat had showed up on his phone. Ecstatic, a heavily filtered and stickered snap had made him smile—and she’d almost dropped her phone. Hadn’t been not a walking mess of flustered and flattered, doe-eyed and dreamwalking since he’d announced he would not only be helping her scout out her new rig, but paying the difference for whatever pink slip she came to acquire.

“It’s just money, darlin’—I got plen’y.”

Mistruth, she knew—Logan worked hard on a barely-livable wage working logs, but, despite any attempt to argue over shared chili cheese fries and rootbeer floats, she’d relented. Hands tossed in the air. He, after all, had money saved. Couldn’t think of a better investment.

“Gotta get my girl into something safer than a fucking Hyundai Tuscon.”

“Logan. I really think it’s fine—“ Hunger burns at the base of her spine. Her feet are near bleeding in wedge heels, and it may as well be sun surface degrees standing on the blacktop in jeans and a Greatest Showman Lip Sync t-shirt. The turquoise squash blossom necklace around her neck is heavy and slick with perspiration from the back of her neck—also a gift from Logan, for Hanukkah. Presented before her family as a grand gesture of vested interest and traditional courtship, it was as real as God. Expensive. Heavy.

His look is hard, wrinkled as his eyes scale over her. “You got somewhere to be?” Nodding to the phone in her hand, “You’re checkin’ the time like it’s your lover, honey. Secret boyfriend I don’t know about?” His brows wag teasingly for a second, pink flashing to life on her cheeks.

“I just think if we’re not gonna buy the car, we shouldn’t be making poor Phil run back and forth,”

They’d already discussed this on the test drive. Phil was two things, if not honest—a jackass, and completely incompetent when it came to the issue of Subaru Outback’s with the 3.6r. Logan and his copious amounts of obsessive access to Google, married with over 200 years of tinkering on anything with wheels, had determined every single known mechanical complaint about these damn wagons—and, once she’d decided which direction to go, had made it his life’s purpose to plague every single online forum to know. He’d asked questions. Googled schematics and blueprints. Had test driven no less than six vehicles, finding faults with all of them. Salespeople aside.

His nose wrinkles, snorting dismissively. “The fuck I won’t,” hands fall from his pockets to the frame of the Outback, Logan bending over the motor to consider the hum of the serpentine belt, “ain’t gonna kill him to make some steps when his ass is gettin’ fat in an office chair, darlin’. B’sides, haven’t decided if we’re buying this or not—not fully.” In other words, I’m having fun pullin’ his chain, baby.

Sighing, she drops her purse off her shoulder and reaches to unclasp the necklace from off her neck. Logan clocks her shift, brows furrowed—moves behind to undo it himself, thick fingers warm and calloused as they gently brush the curls on the back of her neck. Heat ebbs from him like a long black train, breath warm and heady on the back of her neck.

Handing the necklace over her shoulder, his arm snakes around her waist. Tugs her close. Smiling against her flittering pulse, his hand covers the necklace in hers as a low hum of approval rummages around the adamantium in his chest.

“You’re hot,” he hums. And she isn’t sure if he means overheated or otherwise, but opts into the adjective game.

“It’s a hundred degrees,” and that’s no lie. Gently tipping her head to the side, she smiles as his tongue gently lathes the spot behind her ear, “I’m in jeans and heels, Wolvie honey.” Her hand reached to brush fingers through his hair, tempted to pull. “And I know for damn sure you’re not buying this Outback. You don’t like Phil.”

Gut punched and pleasured, his growl is animalistic. Bestial. “How’d ya know that?”

Her lilt is light, teasing as her hips cant back against his pelvis. “You didn’t like him the second he slapped eyes on my tits in this shirt, that’s how,” her sigh is exaggerated, “and—for a guy over two centuries old, you don’t exactly have a poker face, Logan.”

His laugh is hard, rough around his chest. She can feel it rattle down her spine, chasing the heat that pools in the cradle of her womb. Every nerve is alive as he snugs up his arm around her waist, fingers tracing the buckle of her belt. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he gently sways her back and forth.

She continues, “I am also waiting for you to cash in on that promise for lunch,” glancing down, “you can obviously see I’m withering away here, Wolverine.” Trying not to giggle as his hands move to her hips, nipping at her skin, his fingers gently slip into the pockets of her jeans as he angles his head to brush his nose against the shell of her ear.

“Got a better idea, sunshine—how about we screw Felony Phil and his clunker of an Outback, and I take you outback for some product research, huh?”

She didn’t have to be asked twice. Sold.

tags: @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @fandomxo00

[problematic-yuri-poll]

Problematic Yuri Tournament Season 2 - Losers' Round 7

Murciélago vs. My Girlfriend's Not Here Today

Murciélago (manga by Yoshimurakana)

action, comedy

Sexual Content: HIGH; Gore: HIGH; Violence: HIGH

Submitted 2 times.

Submitted problematic elements:

Main character is a serial killer lesbian. theres incest, rape, body horror, emotional manipulation, among others

Protagonist is a serial killer, sexual predator, and a pedophile. She's basically the worst woman of all time. She also manipulates several women into sleeping with her.

Submitted content warnings:

oh yeah i mean tw for violence, incest, rape, bullying, children in peril and others

Extreme violence and gore, explicit sex, sexual assault, pedophilia, child murder, cannibalism, and just a general mess of nasty stuff

Submitted propaganda:

Its got an actually evil lesbian MC who has a lot of depth. Its funny as fuck and its got really interesting narrative, amazing action and compelling characters. Its also very sexy and beautifully drawn

Kuroko Koumori is the best character in yuri history and absolutely nobody does it like her.

My Girlfriend's Not Here Today (manga by Iwami Kiyoko)

drama, romance, psychological

Sexual Content: HIGH; Gore: NONE; Violence: NONE

Mod submission.

Mod-submitted problematic elements:

cheating, dubcon, toxic relationships

Mod-submitted content warnings:

sometimes in this series consent can be iffy. also, occasional suicidal ideation, pet death, family death, parental abuse

Mod-submitted propaganda:

for those who love messy drama! self-described by the author as "disturbing trash yuri". maybe polyamory could have saved them but it's too late now and honestly we prefer to watch them get worse.

[nightlyrequiem]

Hey there, I love your writing! (you may know because I'm always around hehe). You're smooth, set a good flow even with the one shots, I look forward every Saturday to read a new chapter🥺 It's definitely the best girls for the girls writing!!!

And, I have a request hehe, I just read 'Weeping Angel' and I had the thought about Valeria finding a girl that works in her cartel who is the opposite, instead of crying she gets on with Valeria atitude.

Something about Valeria been rude, that harsh and mocking tone she has that's chef kiss, she screaming with her crew? Barking orders with her brows narrowed? Reader LOVES IT, just staying around looking with doe eyes at the cartel mami being a sexy leader all day.

Hiii Infeeeerno!!! I see you in my notifs all the time. Always makes me smile 🫂

I'm glad you're enjoying my writing, as a self-proclaimed girl lover, I naturally like to write for them

I can't even lie watching scenes where Valeria is angry just does something unspeakable to me. Something about aggressive outspoken women is just so... I say I want her to yell at me like that but I'm probably more like Reader in Weeping Angel

That being said I wouldn't mind her making me cry anyway

Tags/Warnings: Valeria Murders a Man, Valeria is Mean to Reader, Reader is Into it

Yell For Me

Valeria is yelling again. Someone messed up a shipment and it was costly. She's all but throwing a fit over it. The two men responsible are forced to face the brunt of her fury. She's throwing things and cursing. It's the most beautiful thing you've seen. Raw passion and emotion clings to every insult and curse she hurls at them. Valeria waves her arms around as she rants, the muscles in her biceps flexing with each movement.

"-Fucking idiots! How do you mess up such a simple thing?"

You almost feel ashamed over how attractive you find her when she's angry.

The men try not to react when she prowls closer. The smell of violence is in the air. She doesn't even hesitate when she pulls out her gun and shoots one of them in between the eyes. So sure of herself and her decision making. Valeria is a woman that knows what she wants and isn't afraid to be vocal when she doesn't get it. Before the other man can process what happened she's grabbing him by the hair and dragging him back roughly. Throwing him to the floor. You hear the breath knocked from his lungs.

You watch, entranced, as she beats him. Balling up her fists and repeatedly pounding into his face and chest. It's quick and efficient. Though he's still left twitching. It seems Valeria is feeling merciful today. She leans down close to his ear and hisses out a warning.

"Fuck up again and you'll be drifting home in pieces."

You want her to hit you and threaten you like that. Please, lord, just once let it happen? She stands and steps over his body like it's trash on the sidewalk. Valeria stalks past you and you turn and follow her dutifully.

You two walk into the elevator and wait while you ascend. Valeria's gray tank top has a few specks of blood staining the front. Speckled just under her rosary. She's still tense which has her flexing her arms unknowingly. You want to run your fingers over them. At a closer look you see small, silvery ropes of scar tissue littered among her arms.

"What the hell are you looking at?" She snaps, breaking your focus. Your eyes snap up to hers. Meeting her glare head on.

"Nothing." You murmur. 

"Well cut it out, pendeja." She growls. "It's rude to stare. Ya deberías saberlo, imbécil."

"Sorry." Though you're not really sorry.

The elevator doors slide open and she's out. You follow close behind like an over eager puppy.

"You!" Valeria says harshly, pointing at a man going over inventory. He jumps and looks at her.

"What?"

"Go to the warehouse by fifth and make sure everything is accounted for." She demands. Brows lowered. Valeria has one of those voices that commands attention even when it's not barking orders at you. When she's not yelling, she's usually being sarcastic and sneering at whoever she's speaking to. Like they're stupid and inconveniencing her by talking to her. The man nods and scurries off. She rubs a hand over her face. Something she does when she's getting a headache - and you're delighted to be privy to that information. "We have paperwork to do." she says.

Valeria can feel your eyes boring into the side of her head. She tries to ignore you while she works. You're weird. Valeria thinks of you as strange. She's seen that look on your face whenever she's bitching someone out. Eyes wide and glazed over, lips parted like she's giving the most compelling speech to ever grace your ears. Even when she's yelling at you for doing something wrong you have that look. She suspects you're into that kind of thing. It's not like she purposefully puts on a show for you sometimes. Playing up her anger to worse than it is. Even if she was, so what? Valeria isn't the type of person to be looked at with awe, and while she does revel in the fear and hate, it feels nice to be looked at differently.

It's hard to find someone who is able to withstand her temper and sharp tongue. Not only are you able to withstand it, but you seem to like it.

"You're staring. Again." she drawls. Looking up at you with an unamused expression. Anyone else would look away under her withering glare, not you though.

"Sorry."

But you're not. She leans back in her chair and rests her forearm on her desk. Not subtly flexing it for you. "Did you do anything productive, or have you been staring this whole time?" She snaps at you. "You told me you could handle this work, but it feels like something as simple as paperwork is too hard for you."

"I can do paperwork." You reply. Your voice is quiet but not because you're hurt or scared.

"Then do it." she says dryly. You look down and return your attention back to your task. You're weird, but Valeria likes that you aren't scared of her. Valeria likes the way you look at her, like you're five seconds away from pouncing on her.

It's hard to focus on your work when Valeria is only a few feet away. The desire to look at her face, mature in a way that only age and stress can do, is strong. She's strong, and aggressive, and homicidal, and so, so hot. You need her to scream at you, then you'll die happy.

"When we're done, we're going to go bet something to eat." She says. It's a command, not a request.

"Like, you and me?" You ask hopefully.

Valeria sighs irately. "Do you see anyone else in the room I could be referring to?" She asks dryly. 

"Right." You smile.

Valeria shakes her head and mutters under her breath.

"So..." You pipe up after a few minutes, watching her scowl when you do anything besides work. "Are we going to dinner in a date way?"

"Did you inhale paint fumes as an infant?" Valeria retorts. "Yes, it's a date. If you keep asking me dumb questions it won't be anymore."

"Sorry." You reply, still smiling dumbly. Forever unperturbed by her words.

[cyber-night]

Fyodor needs help sometimes even if he doesn't want it. No smut today, sorry :(

Content Warnings: Self-neglect, degradation, humiliation, (Neither of which are particularly "sexy" it's more just Fyodor being put in his place through his own stupidity), this... isn't healthy for Anyone...

You sigh as you look at Fyodors pill bottle. You'd recently put a cap on it that had a timer telling when it had last been opened. You suspected that he hadn't been taking his meds. The timer showed that it had been over two days since Fyodor had taken his medication, and even then, he only took it because you brought it to him.

You head up to his computer room where you find him hunched over his keyboard, typing away at lines of code. "Hey Fedya?" He hums as if he hears you but isn't listening. You continue anyway. "You haven't taken your meds in a few days... how are you feeling?"

"Fine," He says without looking up from typing. "When's the last time you got up to eat or use the bathroom?" You ask worriedly. Fyodor sighs. "I do not need you babying me. I can care for myself, you know." He says flatly. "You haven't taken your meds in two days... I worry about you. When's is the last time you slept in a bed and not at your desk?" He stops typing and pinches the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Not all of us get to sit around and do nothing you know some of us have actual work to do." This makes you pause irritation boiling under your skin. "Excuse me? I do plenty thank you very much. I'm the only one who does anything around here." You snap he has never been this expressly disrespectful to you. "You do nothing but annoy me and take me away from my work! I don't need your help! I realize you are too dumb to understand how important what I'm doing is, but you can at least have the decency to let me do it. As for what you do around here, you do nothing but take up space and money!" He snaps angrily you pause your eyes wide, all the times you've made sure he had water and tea as he worked, made sure he was eating, brought him food if he hadn't eaten yet, brought him his meds, all of that to him was simply an interruption? An irritation? Not to mention you took care of most of the chores, though he helped with a few such as the trash ...Fine then if that's how he saw it. "Very well, then I'll stop." You sat icily your eyes narrowed. "Since you will be fine without me helping, I'll leave you be." He seems pleased at that. "Good." Is all he says before he turns back to his monitors. You don't hesitate to turn and leave.

True to your words the next four? Maybe five days? You don't do anything for him. You knew when you two started dating, he needed something akin to a caretaker as he was oblivious to his own health, unable to feel hunger, thirst, or even exhaustion the way most do. It stemmed from his autism and you were willing to help him out of love for him. You never thought you'd have that affection thrown back at you in such a volatile way. You haven't seen him for a few days making no effort to seek him out.

You are sitting in the living room reading a book quietly when he stumbles in. He looks terrible. He hasn't showered in about two weeks at this point, hasn't had his meds in a week, and God knows when the last time he ate was. You only barely glance at him before returning to your book. You watch him lean against the counter as he makes his way to where his meds are stored. Once he get his hands on them, he looks at the caps timer, showing him its been almost a week since he's taken them. His hands shake as he struggles to open the pill bottle, the childproof cap, making it impossible for him when he's this weak. You watch him from over the edge of your book. He is genuinely struggling, but you can also tell he's putting on a bit of a show to garter pity from you to make you feel bad for leaving him to fend for himself. You don't give him any instead of going back to actually reading flipping the page. After quite a bit of time, he finally stumbles over to you and holds the bottle out to you. "Open this." He says gruffly. "You don't need my help. You should be fine." You say not looking up at him though you can see his hand trembling in your peripheral. Your words make him pause.

He tries to open the bottle again with no luck he stands there swaying slightly, his pride not letting him admit he was wrong or that he needs help. He tries to pull your book down, but he is too weak to succeed. You watch him sway again before he crumples at your feet, the pills bottle rolling away from him. You still don't look up from your book as you flip the page. If he wants anything from you, he needs to put his pride aside. He sits there, trembling at your feet for a few minutes before weakly whispering, "I'm sorry..." It's makes you laugh a little inside. "Pardon? I didn't hear what you said. Would you like to repeat that?" You ask without looking up from your book. "I'm sorry..." You nod. "Hmm, that's a start. What are you sorry for?" His eyes are unfocoused, and he's barely keeping himself upright. "I'm sorry for yelling at you."

"And?"

"...And I was wrong."

"About?"

"I was wrong, I do need you..." You nod again as you flip the page. "Yes, you do, don't you." He waits for a moment before he continues "...Are you going to help me now?" You laugh finally closing your book. "And why would I do that? You've done the bare minimum." Fyodors eyes widen, "please..." He whispers weakly. "Please, what?" You ask with a smirk as you watch him sway on his knees. "Convince me." He takes a shakey breath. I'm looking like he might cry. "Please help me... I feel like I'm going to pass out, and I can't... I can't take care of myself right now." You tilt his head back so you can observe him better. "It's almost a pity I have to put you back together... I kind of like you like this. Weak and pathetic, not that you aren't weak and pathetic normally, but... it's just you look pretty when your half way from deaths doorstep." He whines a hint of fear in his eyes. Sure, he could kill you with a touch, but the idea that he is weak and pathetic normally makes him uncomfortable. "I really should make you work for my help... but I'm feeling... Generous. So instead, I'll only make you beg. Sit back on your knees and put your hands up to your chest like a dog. I want to see you beg like one. After all, I have to care for you like a pet."

Fyodor shudders but does it his body barely stable for very long as he holds his hands up in an imitation of paws he looks at you, embarrassment evident in his face. "Good enough, I guess." You sigh idly, he whimeprs, letting his body relax so he doesn't fall further to the floor he rests his forehead on your knee. "Please~" He whispers meakly. Finally, you move him onto the couch and lay him down with a sigh.

You go get his meds, water, and soup since you don't trust him to keep solid food down right now. You come back to him asleep, and you almost feel bad about having to wake him up, but you know you need to. He needs to eat and drink. You carefully nudge him awake and set about nursing your brilliant moron of a boyfriend back to health. You wake him up not as gently as you usually would. You shove the pills into his mouth, then yank his head back and force him to drink, double tapping his cheek once he swallows. "T-thank you... my love..." You help him eat the soup since his hands tremble. "You wouldn't be in this mess if you simply listened to me, you know." You sigh as you pet his hair the soup bowl finally empty "If you had just been a good boyfriend and accepted my care you would fine, but no you have to be a selfish stubborn brat." He looks up at you with glassy eyes. "I'm sorry... I'll try and be better..."

You shake your head and sigh, carrying him to lay down in bed. A shower will have to wait till tomorrow. "Sleep, you can make it up to me tomorrow, Fedya." He nods and nuzzles into you, clinging to you out of anxiety that you'll abandon him again. You kiss his forehead as he drifts off.

[finniestoncrane]

As someone who is a clean freak with slight germaphobia and gets grossed out VERY easily (to the point that I wear gloves a lot LMAO), I would be MISERABLE with Digger. However. This goes not make him ANY less pretty-boy OR stop the fact that I'd make out with him sloppy style. ANYWAYS: Headcanons with him being with a clean freak? I'm nothing if not self-indulgent HGSHADGDHGAHDG ALSO HI FINNIE I HOPE YOU'RE WELL !!

Clean Freak Reader

KTJL!Boomer Headcanons literally couldn't be me, like literally, i am in awe of people who can keep things clean. unfortunately, digger and i would stew in our own filth, so we need people like you to come fix it for us (also i picked his nastiest face for this) 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: some mentions of nsfw things, it's fuckin boomer so of course

this is EXACTLY what he needs, i am a big believer in opposites attract and balancing things out and all that jazz!! so someone who can bring out a... neater(?) side of him would only be a positive

it means he can be his authentic self with the added bonus of knowing someone's going to clean up after him, or at the very least keep him clean enough that he doesn't die

he'd struggle a lot with letting you clean up his van, or trimming up his facial hair, or forcing him into a deep cleansing bath, because he would believe you are washing away his natural, sexy musk (which you would be, tbh)

but if the reward is having you actually touch him without grimacing or swallowing your nerves, then he'll concede

also, obviously, having someone who is a clean freak means that you'll be doing most of the tidying up, yeah? like the dishes, trash, laundry, general getting-rid-of-stains?

if so, might he trouble you to don a little maid outfit? i mean yeah, you're already doing him a massive favour, and no, he hasn't exactly remembered to thank you for it

BUT the least you could do is make it a bit sexy for him!!

you are going to end up in a situation where you're not sure when the line between mommy/daddy and actual parent got blurred

he doesn't mean to take advantage of you, and he doesn't mean to be so manipulative, but a few blinks of his big eyelashes can have you cooking, cleaning and mollycoddling him after his failed attempts at murdering the flash or robbing a bank

the positive is that he is very easily trainable, like a puppy!!

you just have to find his motivation. some puppies like attention, some puppies like praise, some puppies are treat and food oriented. you just have to find his thing!

and it's fairly obvious what his thing is...

so if you need to give him a quick handjob to get him to wash behind his ears or put his empty tinnies in the bin instead of on the floor, is that really anything less than a win-win?

i don't think you would ever change him, and i don't think he'd ever truly be appreciative of all your efforts, because he would never ask for things to be clean and tidy

but he'd cherish the thought you put into keeping him from succumbing to several diseases, and any time you spend around him is a bonus in his eyes

[theplumsoldier]

money shot

summary: when recruiting you, pedro didn't realize he would get jealous from seeing other men fuck you, so he decides to pull your jobs, now only offering you solo scenes. you (dumb and dubious) ask why.

pairing: porn director!pedro pascal x reader

warnings: 18+: p in v sex, oral sex (female receiving), vulgar language, pet names, dirty talk, lil self-doubt

word count: 2,9k

˗ˏˋ inspo ´ˎ˗ & @cannolighost for the idea (hope i did it justice babe!!;3)

When the man who approached you, talking about "star quality", handed you his business card, you glowered up at him. "Porn?"

He frowned and surprised you as his hands waved around in such animated gestures, which merely added to his charismatic demeanor. It also made the muscles in his tan arms protrude from his Versace silk shirt. "I prefer the term 'adult film director'."

Glaring at him with squinted eyes, you looked back at the card. Bubble productions. You snorted.

You had done this kind of work before. Amateur style, of course. With your old boyfriend, actually. At one point, he had convinced you to make a little home video, just for the two of you. You enjoyed the way you looked on the camera, which made it a whole lot easier for him to persuade you into letting him upload it. The two of you ended up filming yourselves regularly and sharing it online—and it gained a lot of attraction, too.

Now it had been a couple of months since your break-up, and frankly, you missed it. Not exactly the relationship itself, but feeling sexy, feeling admired, and worshipped by random people online. You had thought about it before, doing porn at a whole other level, but had dismissed the thought as quickly as it merely reminded you of him. The cheating bastard.

This time, with this man asking you to be "his new star", it was no different.

As you gave him your best smile, he thought he had reeled you in, but you then you kindly told him to "fuck off" and spun on your heel.

It wasn't until a few of days later, when you were scrolling through your feed and found a picture of your ex with a girl, that the thought occurred to you again.

You convinced yourself that it wasn't to make him jealous, simply for your own good, to give this thing a shot and do something fun for yourself. That same day you rummaged through your purse, certain you had shoved the business card away as opposed to throwing it into the trash, and sure enough—your eyes gleamed with a certain thrill as you dialed the number.

Of course, you couldn't just accept the offer right away. You needed to know what kind of thing you were getting yourself into, set some boundaries if you were to do this, and so you asked Pedro to meet you for a couple of drinks.

Pedro smooth-talks you all night and reveals what he's been thinking. Truth be told, you didn't have a lot of expectations, but he made his business sound just glamorous and the money was not too bad either.

He ensures you that you would be able to add input, requests, and such, and insisted that "it was all up to you". You told him that if you were to do this, you wanted to be able to turn down anything, anyone, no questions asked and he did not hesitate to agree.

At some point, you excused yourself and disappeared into the bathroom. While feeling the soft alcoholic buzz enveloping your body, you felt his eyes on you and naturally became aware of the sway in your hips.

Pedro was certainly not bad-looking. With his brown hair, caramel eyes, and honey-dipped skin just begging to be licked, you began wondering if he himself had starred in any productions. You certainly would not object to a bite of him. While his charm had its wanted effect on you, you convinced yourself it was simply his eccentric persona, and not something directed specifically at you.

This charm he wields just so appears to comfort you, and welcome you to join his alluring lifestyle that it made you feel warm and fuzzy. It might be the alcohol, but he spoke with such passion, an intensity that it compelled you to take his hand and dive headfirst into his world.

Then came the dour reminder of your ex-boyfriend. He had been the one to put all these thoughts into your head in the first place, so you wondered what he would think. Would he reach out to you again? Would he be jealous? Or would he perhaps just think you for a slut?

A part of you wanted to provoke something inside of him—might be jealousy or even anger, a little possessiveness, just the right amount of toxic.

No.

This was not about him. It's about you.

With that inaudible dialogue with the bathroom mirror, you finally returned to Pedro. His skin was dewy from the heat and alcohol, and his enormous hand (which made the glass seem miniatures comparison) put his drink back down. He cocked an eyebrow as if quizzing you.

"I'm in."

The first day on the job was fantastic. There was time for the crew to mingle, the actors got to know each other a bit and you wrapped up with a nice cumshot on your tits. It was fun. You immediately felt that Bubble Productions were a safe space. The crew was focused on making the actors feel hyped up and confident, as you did your thing.

You figured it was quite normal to see a few boners here and there amongst the set crew, but you couldn't help but notice the tent in Pedro's pants as he directed from his chair. There was a point where he became unusually quiet, which made you think something was not to his liking. But as the cameramen flocked and closed in on you, you figured he was just concentrating on the money shot.

From then on, you found yourself with just three days of work in a week, trying different things with both guys and girls.

A couple of films later you began realizing Pedro had decided to take things down another road. Lately, he had handpicked you for several solo shoots, and you began pondering whether you did something wrong while performing with other people. While you enjoyed having to focus on just yourself, as well as being the center of attention (more specifically the center of Pedro's attention) you couldn't help but wonder.

Had someone complained about you? Did the audience not like you as much as they did in the beginning?

It prompted you to stay behind one time after the remains of the crew had left for the day, wanting nothing but to please the man with the vision.

It was the first time you had been alone with Pedro since that night at the bar and as you approached him with nothing to cover your figure except a dainty pink silk robe, he was ready to renounce every bit of professionalism left in him to take you right there, on the setup of fluffy pillows, wanting to see you teary-eyed as he fucked you into the Love-a-Lot Care Bear.

When you asked him if the audience did not like you, he immediately assured you: "they adore you!"

It should have lifted a weight off of your shoulders, but it did not—you were convinced something was wrong.

So you asked him if anyone had expressed aversion to working with you and Pedro realized he was the reason for your sudden self-consciousness.

It made him feel bad, for cutting your gigs down to a minimum and only offering you solo performances had been a very conscious choice. The jealousy brewing inside of him as he watched you do the job he had given you—he knew it was unprofessional of him but when the sin turned to downright anger, he just had to do something—what kind of director would he be to fire men for doing their job?

"Baby, everybody loves you! It's just—the audience doesn't wanna see a pretty girl like yourself bein' ruined, they want you all to themselves! Your solo's been a hit—"

You could see his lips move around the words, but you zoned out for a second. Of course, the audience wants to see you being ruined by filthy men, you thought, and once again, the thought that Pedro wanted you became dominant.

Did he want you all to himself?

"The audience..."

"Yeah!"

You frowned at him. "So this has nothing to do with what you want?"

Shit.

You saw right through him. He had hoped you were just pretty and dumb—that would have made his case a lot easier.

He gave lying a shot. "What? No!"

Pedro hoped you didn't notice that his voice pitched an octave. It was too obvious.

Really, you thought it was cute how flustered he got. For a man directing adult films, you would never have guessed he would find trouble flirting.

You put on a pout and sighed heavily, drawing your hand up his chest to toy with the gold chain framing his thick neck.

"S'a shame. Had kinda hoped you made me do all those, 'cause you were jealous," mused you, feeling confident as you leaned closer and twirled the hair at the nape of his neck.

His tongue danced along the line of his bottom lip as his eyes trailed down to where your chest revealed itself beneath the robe.

"Jealous, huh?"

You nodded, pulling back to tilt his chin up so that you caught his eyes. It seemed as if though that had darkened, his pupils had dilated and you felt his cock had grown too.

"Wanted to know 'f it was 'cause you wanted me all to yourself."

The coy smirk grew. "That somethin' ya want?"

"Dont know yet," you shrugged.

Pedro closed the space between you.

"Lemme help you find out."

His lips were crashing against yours the next second, rough and passionate, hungry and needy.

You moaned into his mouth as you felt him slip down the robe and as it pooled at your feet, you were about to trip backwards. He didn't let you and in a swift movement, he had your legs wrapped around him.

The feeling of his restrained member made you all the more excited, and as he maneuvered you over to the set you had been coming on a little earlier, you keenly pulled him with you, eager to finally have him.

You couldn't shake the thought of him limiting your scenes. Had it been anyone else, who had done it out of personal interest, you would have been furious.

Pedro had noticed the way your moans had changed recently. When you played with yourself, made yourself come, your cries had become much more authentic, less of a performer, more of an aroused insatiable woman. He couldn't help but strive to make you sing for him, make you writhe, and make you beg for him to stop while simultaneously keeping his hand in place because you would fucking kill him if he dared cease.

He didn't want those pornographic sounds you offered the mic, he wanted those greedy moans to tear through your throat as orgasm after orgasm ripped from your body.

The kisses are wet with tongues and teeth clashing, but it doesn't matter because as the pad of his index runs through your slit, every thought disintegrates in your mind and your brain becomes mush.

"So sensitive for me, baby. Pussy sore from working so hard for me?"

"Hmpff..." you mewled, acrylics clawing at his back as you stuffed your head into the crook of his neck.

"Ya done so good for me, baby—you gonna lemme take care of ya, hm?"

You whined as Pedro's finger delved into you, the curious tip exploring and prodding at your walls. The combination of being touched by someone you wanted so badly as well as his significantly girthier finger made you gasp in a lower pitch, unlike that factitious moan his so-called "stars" had elicited from you.

It made him rock hard, hearing that genuine sound sputtering from your lips like you couldn't contain it.

He drew your slick through your folds, steadying your hips with his enormous hands as you began to squirm.

"Lie still, pretty baby," Pedro tsked, a devious smirk complimenting his face, and before you could protest he lapped his tongue through the wetness that had pooled between your legs.

Another moan, this untamed and frustrated, a whimper turning into a growl while your hips bucked upward, aiming to catch his mouth completely.

But he insisted—he was going to show you just how devoted he was to making you feel good, better than you did yourself. Pedro wanted you to know he had been schooling himself with those films of you, taking notes to make sure he knew exactly what you liked, and even what you did not know you liked yet.

You cursed when he inserted two fingers. Pedro's tongue occupied your swollen clit in such a way that it left you wanting more of him.

"Pedro," you moaned but as he hooked you with a third finger, curling them against your spongy walls, carving you perfectly for his cock, your pleads were punched out into cries.

"'S fuckin' tight, baby—who'd a thought such a little slut whorin' her body out would 'ave such a tight little hole?"

Under different circumstances, you would have punched the man calling you a slut in his teeth, but this, as Pedro claimed you, you found yourself desperate for the degrading behavior.

He pulled an orgasm from you before he allowed himself the pleasure of filling you with his cock, and as his member sprung free, you had to stop yourself from drooling.

A weeping head plastered on top of his thick, veiny girth, forged to perfectly destroy any woman.

It was almost sad to hide such a wonder from the cameras.

Pedro chuckled, cooking his brow, "impressed yet?"

Just to fuck with him, you put on an indifferent demeanor and turned on your stomach, pushing a pillow down under your stomach. He certainly didn't require an ego boost.

"I'll have to get back to you on that."

His hands felt so perfectly hot on your hips when he dragged your ass closer to him, propping you on your knees and slotting himself by your entrance.

You expected him to ram straight up into you and wanted to fucking cry when he merely dragged his mushroom head along your folds, collecting your slick in a fine mixture with his precum.

"Pedro," you whined in a bated breath. "Fuck me already—"

And there it was the merciless fucking. He bottomed out only to smash back into you, heavy balls slapping against your cunt with every thrust.

The sudden movement made your knees buckle beneath you and you were back on your stomach.

The new position did not seem to face Pedro as he continued to plunge into you from behind. If anything it allowed you to feel him even deeper, a bulge hitting the deepest spot possible making you sob into the pink Care Bear.

"Mmpff—fuck, fuck, fuck—"

Pedro caught your wrists in a harsh grasp, holding them steady on the small of your back to stop you from clawing desperately at him.

"'S the matter, baby? Didn't my guys fill ya up this good, huh?" It came out like a growl and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he fucked you at a relentless pace.

You couldn't help but love the way he called his pornstars his "guys" like he was some creep who had taken you prisoner, the sole purpose of your kidnapping being that you should be fucked day-in-day-out by him and all his ravenous men.

Pedro grasping at the roots of your hair, forcing you to bend back just enough for him to see your fucked-out expression, pulled you from your fantasy.

"Asked you a question, baby."

For the first time, the pet name sounded less affectionate; way too menacing to be loving as the cruel grip on your hair loosened, only to force your face down into the mattress.

"No, no, no!" you cried, barely able to form a proper sentence between his ruthless thrusts. "Ff-uck! Never felt this good!"

Pedro chuckled and abandoned his hold on you, his arm snaking under your body to skillfully locate your clit, deft fingers beginning a dance. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, heating up as you neared your release.

Pedro emitted a sound, something between a growl and a moan, as he felt your pussy clench so nicely around his cock. Feeling your cunt choking his cock, he gave you one command in that cocksure tone.

Fucking you through yours, he slipped into his orgasm as you practically squeezed it out of him. His brutal pace faltered only when he pulled out and as you mourned the loss in your throbbing cunt, you hastily rolled to greet him with your tongue rolled out for him to paint.

His jaw hang ajar, eyes dazed as he watched you hungrily await his seed. With a few more pumps Pedro coated your face in hot velvety strings.

He leans back on his haunches, admiring his masterpiece for a minute or so. He wanted to take a picture of you so badly. If Pedro asked, you would probably say "yes", but there was something about this moment—this was your moment, something just for the two of you.

Pedro muttered something to himself, something you didn't quite catch between your frenzied phase and the buzzing in your ears.

"Huh?" you hummed, looking so not innocent batting your come-coated lashes at him.

His large hand catches your jaw in such an affectionate manner it made your heart flutter for the umpteenth time. Just then, for a second or two, Pedro looked as if he was about to say three very specific words. He didn't.

Instead, he shook his head and cupped your sticky cheek as he planted an uncharacteristically soft kiss on your forehead, before moving away — to get towels for the mess he had made (you were equally responsible) — murmuring with a small chuckle, "ya gonna fuckin' ruin me, baby."

[ghostfacd]

LACY — QUINN HUGHES43

“smart, sexy lacy, i’m losing it lately.”

listen to olivia rodrigo’s lacy for better experience!

summary; you have always been insecure of quinn’s girl best friend, so what do you do? you swallow it down. it wasn’t until the jealousy started to eat you up that everything explodes all at once, and what comes out of it was never something you’d expect.

pairing; quinn hughes x fem!reader, implied oc x fem!reader

genre; angst, midlife crisis arc goes hard! reader gets massive self realization, lots of commentary (you see through reader’s brain with this one) quinn is confusing, everybody’s so confusing

Would it be mean for you to say you didn’t really like Quinn’s friend? Sure, she was one of his best friends and made sure to always compliment you whenever you were in close proximity. But why couldn’t you just like her?

Lacy Willers. According to Quinn, she had gone to Umich with him and they became inseparable after he accidentally fell asleep during class because he had ended hockey practice late and stayed up doing his assignments. He woke up with zero notes in his computer and had awkwardly asked the girl next to him, Lacy Willers, for help.

Lacy Willers was beautiful, inside and out. She was sweet to you, always keeping her distance with Quinn and respecting your boundaries as his girlfriend. She had long blonde hair before dying it brunette because according to her “YN looks so pretty brunette, I wanted to try it out.”

How could anyone hate her?

Her skin was like puff pastry, and you hated how perfect Lacy seemed to be. You just wanted one reason. One good reason to hate Lacy and not hate yourself for doing so.

“Babe?”

The voice of Quinn makes you snap out of your trance.

“What’s up Quinny?” You ask, shooting him a smile so he wouldn’t notice what was up.

“Are you still going to my game?”

Ah right. Quinn’s game. Shit—you had been so wrapped up in your thoughts these past few days that you seemingly forgotten all about it.

“YN..”

“No no, I’m going Quinn!” You reassure him, “don’t worry. I’ll get all my assignments in by then so I can go to your game.”

Quinn gives you one of his small smiles, the smiles that is only reserved for you.

Or does he give them to Lacy too?

“You okay?”

Curse Quinn’s big brother instincts. He always knew when you were feeling down, and you hated it.

“I’m fine Q,” you say, standing up to kiss him on his cheek. He’s so cute, you sometimes wonder what you did in your past life to deserve someone like Quinn.

“Okay,” Quinn doesn’t seem so sure of your answer but he doesn’t push. If there’s one thing about Quinn is that he knows his limits. He pulls, not push.

When Quinn’s game comes by, you find yourself sitting next to Lacy Willers and the youngest Hughes, Luke.

You excuse yourself for a few minutes, needing a breath of fresh air. Even past the seats, Lacy’s perfume lingers through the air. You swear that you see her everywhere.

When you come back, you see Lacy with her hand on Quinn’s back, a bright smile exchanged between them.

A knot forms in your stomach.

“YN! Hi!” Lacy waves you over, “Quinnier here made a winning goal last minute!”

Oh Lacy, it was like you were out to get me.

“Really?” Your face brighten up, eyes looking up to meet Quinn’s. In the corner of your eye, you see his hold on Lacy’s waist, but you don’t say anything, too tired to overthink or accidentally start a fight.

The familiar toss of keys and the turning on of the lights seem suffocating to you. You had no idea what was wrong with you. Quinn was a great boyfriend, Lacy was nice, so why does it feel like you can’t breathe?

“Lacy asked me to ask you if you wanted to have a girls night with her.” Quinn mentions as he takes a bite of his peach.

“Lacy asked you to ask me?”

“That’s what I said, baby.”

You don’t know why you feel so nervous. Lacy Willers asked you to have a girls night with her?

“I mean, yeah, I guess.” You shrug. Quinn throws the seed of the peach he’d just finish into the trash, making his way towards you.

He wraps his arms around you—a all too familiar sight from when he previously had his arm around Lacy, and placed his hand on your head, pushing it slightly so he could place a kiss on it.

Saturday night. Girls night with Lacy. You were scared shitless.

You clear your throat, pushing away the negative thoughts. It’s just Lacy Willers. Umich Lacy. Quinn’s Lacy.

“Hi!” The excited voice of Lacy sends you into a spiral of emotions. She’s in a pretty white silk pajama set with little hearts all around. Her hair looks so naturally perfect that you wanna curl up and cry. Lacy Willers, without even trying, can already take your breath away.

Smart, sexy Lacy. You remembered Quinn mentioning how Lacy was a nursing major. She was good at the arts too, you knew as soon as you stepped in her living room and glanced at the portraits on the wall.

“So,” Lacy sits the both of you down, the beautiful smile of hers never leaving her face. “You okay? Did Quinn’s dumbass do something?”

Your eyes go wide, “no! What makes you think that?”

She laughs slightly, eyes genuine. “Call it.. girls instincts. But really, you can talk to me. I know we aren’t that close but I’d love to become closer. I mean, you’re beautiful and so kind, doing Quinn a charity case if you ask me.”

Although Lacy’s so genuine and her compliments would’ve made anyone else drop to their knees, they feel like bullets on skin.

“Well I don’t know, I just feel weird.” You say awkwardly. “Quinn’s great, don’t get me wrong.”

“Yeah,” Lacy wraps her hands around her hair, making a quick ponytail and grabbing a ribbon from her cabinet to tie it up with. “I get it.”

Ribbons in her hair. She looks as pretty as ever. Almost as if she was made of angel dust. Your stomach is all in knots.

That night you slept on the bed fort Lacy had made, your heart thumping in your chest. Even in your dreams, Lacy Willers is there.

“How was the sleepover babe?” Quinn asks, placing a kiss on your head. He shoots a smile at Lacy who smiles shyly at him.

“It was good,” you say, looking between the two. It was as if they spoke to each other with their eyes, a language you didn’t understand.

“Quinn,” you say as soon as Lacy says her goodbye after dropping you off, clearing your throat.

“Yeah?”

“Have I told you I haven’t been feeling well lately?”

Quinn’s eyes shift to concern, his eyebrows furrowed. “You okay babe? Is it the flu?”

He reaches to feel your forehead, searching for a burning sensation, but to his surprise, you seem perfectly fine temperature wise.

“No, it’s not that.” You say.

It’s never been that. It has never been about you being jealous of Lacy being close to Quinn. It’s never been about you being scared she was gonna take him away from you.

It’s always been about Lacy. Smart, pretty, kind Lacy Willers. The girl who made your stomach turn in knots and your words into stutters.

Lacy Willers, the girl you seem to loathe lately. The girl that poisons your mind and everything that you do.

The girl who made you despise your own eyes for how hard they fell for her.

Lacy Willers, the girl you’re in love with.

[lovelytsunoda]

the cozy collection 2024

a collection of cozy fall-themed stories about our favorite drivers and assorted other characters!

for me, fall is synonymous with cozy university campuses and autumn colours, so expect college aus. additionally, expect the unexpected, as I’m a lover of halloween and am using that spooky energy to expand into grander projects than I ever have before.

shadows of the night | oscar piastri | smau

hiding in self-imposed exile after very publicly trashing bill skarsgaard's 'the crow' remake, horror final girl casper coolidge chances finding love, and returning to the spotlight

the scaredy-cat support group | logan sargeant | slice of life, comedy

after being dragged to see the scariest movie of the season, y/n is delighted that the blond next to her seems to be just as scared as she is

the sixth sense | jake “hangman” seresin | romance, supernatural, comedy

after a car accident leaves her with the ability to see ghosts, a police desk sergeant tries to adapt to life while managing her crush on the sexy pilot that lives across the street

heart to hot to hold | clement novalak | college au, romance, coming of age

breakfast club au about a group of college student stuck on campus over reading week and bonding over how bizarre they all are.

chateau (feel alright) | kyle kirkwood | college au, romantic

you’ve heard of only one bed, now get ready for only one blanket, in the middle of a campus-wide blackout.

from gas to solid | charles leclerc | smau

octoberfest is not for the weak. or those who have never seen one unfold before.

tbd | alex albon | comedy, slice of life

 “Put the chocolate bar down, i thought i told you those were for the kids!” 

dancing in the dark | mick schumacher | smut, romance

It’s flannel season and you look like a sexy lumberjack and it’s ✨ doing things ✨

the puppy bowl. | lance stroll | comedy, slice of life, satire

you misunderstood, this is a puppybowl party, we don’t do sports in this house

[astoldbychae]

G-Shade vs No G-Shade 😩

Oh. Em. Gee. YA'LL! It could be pitch black and Penny would STILL turn necks and break hearts, babyyyyyyy!

Everytime I look at her this is all I hear:

FUN FACT: Victoria Monet is Penny's Voice claim. I don't think I've ever shared that but when I revamped her a few years ago I had my glass of [insert adult beverage here] & Jaguar (the EP) on repeat and her vibe just gave me miss ma'am. Victoria is so sweet yet sexy, and sultry...mesmerizing...TALENTED! (and all that is Penny's vibe). So it was only right!

And I think our girl TJ agrees:

😩 Now before ya'll get on my ass, YES TJ is still happily, madly in love with Deijah BUT apparently she does pop up unannounced to the clurb (not dressed for the occasion) from time to time and appreciates beauty when she sees it! 🤣 She was chatting with her at the bar (until some lady was all up in their business)...so my assumption is they know each other since they're both celebrities or whatev's. hashtag story crossover moment! 🙃Maybe TJ got a friend or teammate for our girl...anywho...

Not sure what busted townie lady did...but Pens was PISSED! 😩

I thought homegirl was hangry and chips would help...

but nope! 🙄

THEN JUST WHEN I THOUGHT I WAS GONNA HAVE AN ENJOYABLE GAMEPLAY SESH...

thiiiiisssss heffa flew in like a bat outta hell (LITERALLY) and was staring Melo DOWN. I SHOULD'VE KNOWN TJ WAS HERE WITH HER FAVE PERSON! Her and Mel are inseparable! Back in Mel's party days they used to be trouble! Would have the girlies lined up!

Yup! Caught ya'll asses in 4K! [nothing happened but still...] LMAO

But it's the disrespect for me:

I stopped lurking on Penny for a moment to use control this sim for Marguerite because I wanted to see what she was about to do since she was staring at Mel like that but the AUDACITY of this heffa, it's Mel's speech bubble like "Hey Marguerite" and her's calling him trash! SHE IS OVER HERE GIVING HIM THE LOOK...BUT TRYNA COVER IT UP BY CALLIN THIS MAN TRASH! GIRL! If you don't get...😩 See, this is why she can never have nice things! She self sabotages like a MF! I can't make this up! As soon as I saw their speech bubbles I flung my laptop off my bed from laughing so hard. They are truly writing their own story at this point! I'm just here.

[jjkthrow]

I saw you moved blogs do you still have your old asks? Do you mind if I send repeats? Also was thinking about what’s your headcanons for Geto Gojo Nanami and Shoko chaperoning their partner who got drunk for the first time? Cheers🍾

Hííí, yes most of my asks and drafts are gone, feel free to send another request. I love this because the first few times you drink you should definitely have someone you trust with you and not be blistered alone in the club. Alcohol should be treated similar to drugs as it impairs you. I typically write Geto as pre crash out unless specified. Does anyone really go to New Year’s parties?

Drinking Chaperone

Geto: When you proposed getting drunk with him overseeing you at a house party, he felt a bit honored that you had trusted him. He’d make sure you were drinking water to prevent the hangover and if you start feeling nauseous pluck your drink from your hand. If you’re angry or bratty he would try to reason with your drunken self the same way he’d reason with a child, without taking you any bit seriously. If you were flirty and all over him, he’d let you kiss him with messy lips and spit that stung like vodka. Thinks you’re sexy with your eyes half lidded and oozing confidence. However if you’re drunk and not just a bit buzzed, and you made a move he would shoot you down. Even if he had to hold you by the wrists and make you sit down between his legs on the couch to keep you in place. He doesn’t trust others to not prey on someone who’s drunk, not just with you. Will let you wander within eyesight but even mid conversation is watching you. When you get up to use the bathroom for the 100th time he walks behind you, one hand on your rib cage redirecting your top heavy body from falling into someone. Goes in the bathroom with you to make sure you don’t pee yourself or do something stupid. You don’t even notice in your state but will probably be a bit embarrassed when you sober up and he tells you about you’re escapades. If you’re not sober by time he brings you to his apartment, If you got really wasted, he'd put you on the sofa, propped up and on your side so if you threw up in your sleep you wouldn’t aspirate. Leaves a trash can by you and sleeps in an armchair so he can make sure you’re alright. If you’re a sad drunk will opt to lay with you as long as he’s behind you, out of vomit range. Knows the value of a hair tie and keeping long hair clean. If you pass out will bring you to get you’re stomach pumped and fluids. 10/10

Gojo: Satoru doesn’t drink since it messes with his abilities. If he drinks a little casually he’s a light weight and won’t push past slightly taking the edge off. This means you know he’s driving and attentive, so when you’re at a night club together you take the extra shot. And another. And another. Your face feels hot and your mind is foggy. You keep losing your attention and wandering off somewhere. He would chase after you through a club or wherever you toddle off to. Your smaller build skirting through crowds easier. If you’re horny drunk will let you kiss and grind on him, dance wild both sexually and terribly-coordinated in the club, will probably take a video, but won’t let things get out of hand or anyone approach you. If you’re angry he’d pick you up and practically throw you over his shoulder and take you home. Despite the kicking and screaming. He’s very sure to make his large presence known not in a possessive way, but a “leave her alone she’s messy.” If it all starts to hit at once and you go from being in a stupor and having a great time to “oh I don’t feel so good.” He’d bring you to your apartment and sticks you in the bathtub in case you pee or vomit, if your really fucked up he will turn the water on to “wake you up” of course it doesn’t actually change your blood alcohol levels, but was worth a shot. If you’re sad when you’re intoxicated he will sit next to the tub and stroke your hair. Would stay the night but absolutely make fun of you ruthlessly the next day while you’re hungover still. A somewhat effective deterrent from you doing it again. Doesn’t take passing out as seriously but might take you to the ER if he can’t wake you up with a splash of water. 8/10

Nanami:

If you want to get drunk at home he will oblige just so you know your cut off. Isn’t super chatty with you as he knows nothing he says makes a difference. Urges you to eat before you drink and intake your alcohol slowly.

If you go out for a dinner party and have a few too many glasses of wine and are a tad bit drunk he will bring you home immediately. A bit embarrassed by you if you’re in public and unknowingly push your limit. Still tries not to converse with you in your drunken state, a simple yes or no. Brings you home with a hand on your arm similar to dragging home a child. Slightly annoyed by you being messy. Makes sure you have ibuprofen and Gatorade for when you sober up. Doesn’t drink enough to lose his composure, even at a party in his college days, expects you to as well. If you’re a flirty drunk he tolerates nothing, nor if you’re sad or angry to be honest. He’d rather deal with you sober and not humor you when you’re not thinking coherently. He won’t tell you if you did something embarrassing like shit yourself or cry, saves you the pride. However, If you throw up more than once, will call an ambulance. 10/10

Shoko:

Probably drunk as well unless you ask her to watch you. Your fingers feel numb and everything is so funny all of a sudden. Why do you feel so hungry? And nauseous? You two try to hold each other up swaying in tandem, laughing over, you don’t even know what. She would tie your hair back for you if it’s long and pat you on your back when you vomit in the parking lot. Knows how to use public transportation even when she’s inebriated and will take you to her place, might not even realize your coming with her she didn’t ask, but hasn’t unliked her arm from yours. Suffers through the hangover with you, sitting together groaning with cold rags in your forehead and a cup of seltzer. Won’t discourage you from drinking as long as a designated driver is in place. Terrible about if you pass out, at least she’s a doctor, but more than likely too drunk herself to even evaluate the situation. If it was pre planned and she’s sober will absolutely care for you at home unless she feels 100% necessary to get medical attention, even then might bring you to her own office. 4/10 for lack of responsibility 10/10 for how fun she’d be to get fucked with.