#Unique Bodysuit

[lil-vibes]

day 11: Poison

Previous/Next

(prompt list here!)

[grannyandgrandpascreations]

Sometimes I Puke When I Drink Too Much Just Like My Aunt Onesies®

This fun one-piece gender neutral baby bodysuit Onesies® has a playful message that Aunts can appreciate "Sometimes I Puke When I Drink Too Much Just Like My Aunt", it’s sure to get a few laughs! Nothing matters more than a baby's comfort, and this one-piece gender-neutral bodysuit is the right choice for all active babies. The envelope neckline and three snap leg closure ensure comfort throughout the day.

These gender neutral Gerber brand Onesies® are incredibly comfy! Both the bodysuits and t-shirts are printed on 100% cotton for a super soft feel. These unisex baby bodysuits are great to use as a take home outfit, baby shower gift or everyday attire!

All items are created or designed by Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations. We also print and heat press our items using our professional, commercial grade heat press! Each design is made with High Quality, Heat Transfer Vinyl. All of our bodysuits and t-shirts are made to order in a smoke free and pet free home. We only print on genuine Gerber Onesies® and Children’s Place. Gerber Children’s Wear holds the trademark for the word “Onesie®”. The term “Onesie®” is to reference the Gerber label and to describe the genuine Gerber Children’s wear products we use at Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations.

Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Tumble dry low.

Please also know that although every effort is made to photograph my items accurately, color may differ slightly from photos due to different monitor settings. Please contact me with any questions about the color or size of any item before purchasing. Have something in mind that you’re looking for? I love custom orders! I can make custom changes to all existing designs that are currently available in my shop. Please send me a message, and I’ll be happy to help!

After a package leaves my hands with the post office, Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations is not held responsible. Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you so much for supporting our "small Granny & Grandpa's Shop", we truly appreciate YOU! Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop to view more of our creations!

Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com to view more products.

LET’S GET SOCIAL & BE FRIENDS! Like, Tag & Follow us for Our new Creations, Inspiration & Giveaways!

website/ www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop

facebook.com/ https://www.facebook.com/GrandpaHandmadecreations/

instagram.com/ https://www.instagram.com/grannyandgrandpacustomcreation/

pinterest.com/https://www.pinterest.com/grannyscustomcreations

#grannygrandpascustomcreations

A humorous Onesies® features the phrase "Sometimes I Puke When I Drink Too Much Just Like My Aunt". Nothing matters more than a baby's comfort, and this one piece is the right choice for all active babies. The envelope neckline and three snap leg closure ensure comfort throughout the day.

These gender neutral Gerber brand Onesies® are incredibly comfy! Both the bodysuits and t-shirts are printed on 100% cotton for a super soft feel. These unisex baby bodysuits are great to use as a take home outfit, baby shower gift or everyday attire!

All items are created or designed by Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations. We also print and heat press our items using our professional, commercial grade heat press! Each design is made with High Quality, Heat Transfer Vinyl. All of our bodysuits and t-shirts are made to order in a smoke free and pet free home. We only print on genuine Gerber Onesies® and Children’s Place. Gerber Children’s Wear holds the trademark for the word “Onesie®”. The term “Onesie®” is to reference the Gerber label and to describe the genuine Gerber Children’s wear products we use at Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations.

Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Tumble dry low.

Please also know that although every effort is made to photograph my items accurately, color may differ slightly from photos due to different monitor settings. Please contact me with any questions about the color or size of any item before purchasing. Have something in mind that you’re looking for? I love custom orders! I can make custom changes to all existing designs that are currently available in my shop. Please send me a message, and I’ll be happy to help!

After a package leaves my hands with the post office, Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations is not held responsible. Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you so much for supporting our "small Granny & Grandpa's Shop", we truly appreciate YOU! Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop to view more of our creations!

Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com to view more products.

LET’S GET SOCIAL & BE FRIENDS! Like, Tag & Follow us for Our new Creations, Inspiration & Giveaways!

website/ www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop

facebook.com/ https://www.facebook.com/GrandpaHandmadecreations/

instagram.com/ https://www.instagram.com/grannyandgrandpacustomcreation/

goimagine.com/ https://goimagine.com/granny-and-grandpas-custom-creations/

pinterest.com/https://www.pinterest.com/grannyscustomcreations

#grannygrandpascustomcreations

[dulcealoves]

Website : https://www.dulcealoves.com/en

Address : Quebec, Canada

DulceaLoves is an innovative fashion brand specializing in stylish and comfortable clothing designed for rhythm and movement. With a focus on providing a unique shopping experience, the brand offers a range of fashionable bodysuits, tops, dresses, and dancewear. Emphasizing comfort and elegance, their collections are tailored to complement body movements, enhancing the wearer's experience. DulceaLoves is committed to customer satisfaction, offering fair policies on delivery, returns, and privacy, ensuring a seamless and secure shopping journey.

DulceaLoves est une marque de mode innovante spécialisée dans les vêtements élégants et confortables conçus pour le rythme et le mouvement. Offrant une gamme de bodys, tops, robes et vêtements de danse à la mode, DulceaLoves se concentre sur le confort et l'élégance. Leurs collections sont adaptées pour compléter les mouvements du corps, améliorant ainsi l'expérience du porteur. Engagés envers la satisfaction des clients, ils offrent des politiques équitables de livraison, de retour et de confidentialité, garantissant une expérience d'achat sécurisée et fluide.

Facebook : https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100082752462185

Instagram : https://www.instagram.com/dulcealoves/

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[befemininenow]

Admit it. You want her outfit more than anything. Still afraid of being called a sissy? Honey, sissy is just a mindset. But deep inside, your identity is female. There is nothing sissy about wanting to wear such a tightfit bodysuit, a lovely skirt, shiny pantyhose, and some tall high heels. That is an outfit women generally wear. Women like you, whether cis or trans. Does it feel emasculating? Perhaps. But is it also affirming for your feminine side? Absolutely! I bet your nice little egg has hatched at this point. (I feel like a mistress just writing this lol

There's a voting poll underneath. If want to skip the long description, scroll below and vote. Good luck!

Now that I feel better after the shitshow last night, it's time to leave politics behind and move on to another voting topic: outfits! This is not only such an affirming outfit for the fall season, but it's also one of the most feminine and modern outfits ever. It just screams femme! I even have a near identical outfit because I love it so much!

That got me thinking: there's just so many outfits that feel "emasculating", but few that affirm the trans woman in you. You know the ones: schoolgirl uniforms, maid costumes, ballet outfits, office secretary, housewife attire, and even waitress outfits. While not all the mentioned outfits are bad (I have a guilty pleasure for Hooters outfits), I feel that some of them are too flashy and have too plain in the feminization world.

We need something more affirming, more unique, more aesthetically pleasing, more... permanent. More in line with your transfeminine identity as opposed to fulfilling a kink. IMO, I feel that this outfit is one those that accomplish that. Not too flashy, but not too plain. Balanced enough to make you feel affirmed while looking like another girl in the outside world. IMO, one can never go back to wearing boy's clothes once you try something sexy like this!

I'm dying of trying something new for this blog: For this month only, I want to make at least 4+ feminizing captions per week with women wearing this outfit. The main purpose is to convince you to go deeper into feminization by trying this outfit out. Once you try it out and love how it feels so femme instead of humiliating, you will have the rite of passage into becoming a trans woman. You can still wear the other outfits if it's your thing, but your feminine wardrobe will expand further after this moment. If the first option wins, I will fulfill that new plan of 4+ captions in addition to my regular caption posts and reblogs. If the second option wins, I will just continue making my regular posts when I have the chance or need to upload (Hint: I'm not really uploading as much).

Now, let's get to the polls, the feminization polls, that is!

[poppy-metal]

oooh what if fail marriage!art after separating with reader and being a sad miserable fuck now with tashi and patrick, sees you on a date, like on a random tuesday evening? He sees you all dolled up with this guy and you‘re smiling and giggling and tashi and patrick just feel him vibrating from anger and sadness next to them. How long has it been that he made you smile like that? How long has it been, that you wore something slutty like that for him on date night (when was the last date night ouchies)

sm came over me this au is dangerous.... cause why did i add some reader x patrick drama at the end..... failmarriage au is slowly riding closer and closer to toxic polycule but its gonna be drama drama drama till we get there !!

tashi has to put a hand on his arm to physically stop him from picking up a knife and slitting his throat - or yours - committing a murder - suicide. he thinks god is punishing him. because there's just no way, no way, the one night hes able to drag himself from bed to go out with patrick and tashi you're at very same restaurant. with another man.

and you look beautiful, like honesty his lips are parted, mouth open - because your style has always been a little on the modest side, you wore it well, sundresses and long skirts and blouses. you looked lovely in them.

but this - a skin tight body suit. black and hugging every curve on your body. he knows your body. well, he knew it. not as well as he wanted to, maybe, but he'd seen you naked - he'd been inside you countless times. but this. it feels new. it feels like hes seeing you for the first time. your tits look amazing, somehow appearing fuller with the fabric of the bodysuit clinging to you. and your ass.... he could weep, he really could. it moves like water when you walk, the smooth glide of your steps making the cheeks jiggle just the right way. strappy heels that accentuate your legs.

even patrick lets out a 'damn' and tashi would shoot him a glare except she's staring at you too. all of them just kind of gawk as you walk past them - you dont even look their way - you must have noticed art, you must have - and settle into a booth across the restaurant from them. you're smiling at your date. lips painted a dark seductive red.

art wants to go over to you. stab your date in the eyes. fall to his knees. beg for you to take him back, spare him a glance, just let him touch you. he misses the feel of you, the unique texture of your skin. the way you giggle when your ankle receives soft touches because you're ticklish. are you going to spread your legs for that man tonight? are you going to let his touched burn away arts?

he swallows. sets down his silverware. "im going out to the car." he can't watch. tashi frowns at him, like she wants to say something, encourage him to say, encourage him to talk to you, even, but he just looks at her, pleading. wordless communication that they've gotten down to a science and her lips press into a thin line, her eyes going sad. she nods and drops her hand from his arm. lets him leave.

you watch him go, taking a sip of your drink to hide your expression. the unpleasant turn of your mouth at the way he walks out, head down, fingers nervously twisting the watch on his wrist. you crunch ice between your teeth, swallow down the disappointment of his easy retreat. typical of him, to recede instead of fight.

your eyes catch on tashi's - dark and cunning, assesseing and all too aware, like shes peeling you like an orange and she knows what she'll find - you look down quickly. focus back on the date you'll inevitably ghost.

____

patrick zweig is smoking a cigarette behind the restaurant for a moment - tashi is paying the bill - art is moping in the car still, probably. its just a brief moment of reprieve from the borish melancholy cloud he'll be suffocated in the moment he gets in that car and gets engulfed in the pathetic yearning permeating from art like slick oil, and the even worse tension from tashi over her inability to fix the situation.

god, he just wants to fuck. he expected to be getting alot more ass when art moved in, if he was being honest. like a full on fuckfest. you'd come around eventually - as soon as the facade of a boring monogamous marriage lost its appeal and you realized you'd been missing the thrill you had in college when all of you, the four of you, were in eachothers orbit at all times.

but it'd just been a fucking drag. all he'd gotten was one sad moment, where he'd been throating arts cock and enjoying himself very much, before art had started crying - going on about how he missed your mouth - very mood killing. not that he'd mind if art pretended he was fucking your throat instead of patricks, because that'd be kinda hot, but the tears were a bit much. he hadn't touched art since. he didn't know if he and tashi were fooling around, but he doubted it was a common occurrence with the amount of time art spent moping.

he was on his last drag when the back door swung open and you stepped out into the humid night air. you startled to see him, like a frightened doe, and made to grab the door handle, "oh, im sorry -"

"no - stay." he blew out a cloud of smoke, right in your face - "i got something i wanted to ask you, anyway." he stubs the cig under his shoe.

your eyes dart around nervously but you lower your hand. cross your arms like its chilly. maybe your own cold heart keeps you cold, fuck if he knows.

he leans a shoulder on the brick of the building as he studies you - eyes perusing your outfit languidly. his lips twist, like he's hiding a smirk.

"this is new."

you shift on your heeled feet. look away, "you dont know enough about me to know if its new or not."

patrick straightens and steps forward, you hadn't realized his hunching posture before was doing so much to hide his height until then, when you have to crane your head to look up at him, scramble backwards so he doesn't bump your chest with his.

"see that's what pisses me off about you." he pokes you, and you jolt at the sensation of the touch "i do know you. because before you decided to become betty fucking crocker we used to be what you call 'friends'. do you know what that word means? or have you sniffed so much lysol your little brain gave you temporary amnesia."

your mouth parts in shock. you stare at him, speechless. speechless because its been years since anyone has talked to you this way, speechless because the only person who did were him and tashi, when they'd call you out, pull you out of your shell - it makes your cheeks flood with heat.

"i-" you scramble for what to say, trying to pull words, defenses out of the air. "i dont have amnesia...." fucking great line.

patrick nods. "right, okay. so-" he waves a hand in the air, his wedding band glinting in the moonlight. you want to look at it. see if it resembles the one you and art share. you didn't attend his and tashi's wedding. guilt pricks at you. "my question for you is how long do you plan on playing this game? because that's what this is. and dont -" he shakes his head with a laugh - " and dont give me that shit about art and tashi when you know damn well how they felt about eachother in college. you still married the guy. you wanna know why?" another step. you can smell him. spicy and sharp. something tashi would have bought him, no doubt. its too polished to be something he'd pick for himself.

you inhale. lashes fluttering with the memory of the over expensive boysih cologne he wore in boarding school - in college - the kind that stung your nose, but. but made you feel comforted. because it was so distinctly patrick.

"because deep down you know he loves you just as much. you've always known. and this whole act you're putting on-" he looks you up and down, "- of the scorned neglected housewife? its tired. its fucking boring. i mean-" he licks his lips, leans down so close his nose almost brushes yours. "-does art know you almost let me eat your pussy on prom night?"

you gasp, stepping away. flushing. eyes wide. "no." you gasp, voice small. "that was - you promised you'd never -"

"i promised my friend I'd never bring it up again." he looks at you, "you're not my friend, sweetheart. haven't been for awhile."

you glare at him. patrick smiles. one dimple indenting his cheek. so boyishly charming for a man in his 30s. you want to kick him.

"i hate you." you hiss. "i hate all of you."

"uh huh -" patrick shrugs, shoves his hands in his pockets. starts to walk backwards. tashi will be getting impatient by now. wanting to head home to tend to a wounded arts wounds. "keep telling yourself that."

you huff. spin away from him and yank open the back door, ready to storm back inside when his voice rings out one last time behind you.

"your ass looks great, by the way!"

they'd all be jerking off to the thought of it tonight, probably. he knew he would.

[taylorswiftstyle]

On stage at Eras Tour | London, England | June 23, 2024

Tiffany & Co 'Diamond Wire Ring' - $2,675.00

The Eras Tour costuming has been unique in many ways but one that I've noted specifically is the care Taylor has taken when it comes to accessorizing over the course of her three hour set. There are dedicated necklaces worn during the Lover set to coordinate with a particular bodysuit. She wears a 'RED' merch replica of her Cathy Waterman 'LOVE' ring during the RED set. These are obvious bits of costuming that take the immersion of the show into that time period's era that one step further - because details matter.

Taylor doesn't typically wear personal pieces on the stage, though that's changed somewhat since last summer when she added a few new lobe piercings to her ears and she's since opted to wear her own earrings on the stage. But my eye happened to catch a new addition to her ring stack on Night 3 in London with what appears to be a T&Co ring. The 'wire' design is iconic from the Tiffany's T collection and, of course, features two T's mirroring one another.

Photo by Gareth Cattermole via Getty Images

[venusianpulp]

Rising Sign & Your Perfect Festival Outfit

Here are the perfect any music festival outfits for each of the 12 zodiac signs and Ascendants, with details on color schemes, materials, accents, and overall aesthetics:

PSA: Images and descriptions are both complimentary, so they may not be entirely identical, but everything is relevent.

Aries Rising: Bold and daring, an Aries rising would rock a fiery red crop top paired with high-waisted denim shorts. Accessorize with a black leather choker, combat boots, and a statement belt. The outfit screams confidence and adventure.

Taurus Rising: Earthy and sensual, a Taurus rising would opt for a flowy, bohemian-style maxi dress in shades of green and brown. Pair with a leather fringe vest, ankle boots, and a wide-brimmed hat. The outfit exudes comfort and laid-back elegance.

Gemini Rising: Playful and eclectic, a Gemini rising would mix and match patterns and colors. A graphic tee paired with a colorful, patterned skirt, fishnet stockings, and high-top sneakers. Accessorize with layered necklaces and quirky sunglasses for a fun, youthful vibe.

Cancer Rising: Soft and feminine, a Cancer rising would choose a vintage-inspired, pale blue sundress with delicate lace details. Pair with a cozy, oversized cardigan, ankle-strap sandals, and a small, cross-body bag. The outfit radiates comfort and nostalgia.

Leo Rising: Bold and dramatic, a Leo rising would make a statement in a metallic gold romper with a plunging neckline. Accessorize with a chunky, gold chain necklace, oversized sunglasses, and platform heels. The outfit screams glamour and confidence.

Virgo Rising: Clean and practical, a Virgo rising would opt for a crisp, white button-down shirt tucked into high-waisted, black denim shorts. Pair with a black leather belt, minimalist jewelry, and comfortable, low-top sneakers. The outfit is polished and effortlessly chic.

Libra Rising: Elegant and balanced, a Libra rising would choose a flowy, pastel pink maxi skirt paired with a white, off-the-shoulder crop top. Accessorize with delicate, gold jewelry, strappy sandals, and a woven clutch. The outfit is feminine and harmonious.

Scorpio Rising: Mysterious and alluring, a Scorpio rising would opt for a black, lace bodysuit paired with high-waisted, faux leather leggings. Layer with a sheer, black kimono, and accessorize with a choker, ankle boots, and a dark, smoky eye. The outfit is seductive and intense.

Sagittarius Rising: Adventurous and free-spirited, a Sagittarius rising would rock a tie-dye, cropped t-shirt paired with distressed, cut-off denim shorts. Accessorize with a woven, multicolored belt, layered anklets, and gladiator sandals. The outfit is playful and adventurous.

Capricorn Rising: Classic and sophisticated, a Capricorn rising would choose a sleek, solid & colored co-ord with a structured, cinched waist. Pair with knee high or thigh high black boots or dainty shoes, minimalist jewelry, and subtly refined look. The outfit is timeless and powerful.

Aquarius Rising: Unique and unconventional, an Aquarius rising would opt for a holographic, iridescent bodysuit paired with high-waisted, flared pants. Accessorize with a chunky, silver choker, platform boots, and a brightly colored, faux fur coat. The outfit is futuristic and eccentric.

Pisces Rising: Dreamy and ethereal, a Pisces rising would choose a flowy, sheer, pastel purple maxi dress with delicate, floral embroidery. Layer with a soft, crochet cardigan, and accessorize with a flower crown, layered, beaded necklaces, and strappy, barefoot sandals. The outfit is whimsical and enchanting.

[coochiequeens]

I know this blog focuses on TIMs invading women’s sports and locker rooms but Saving Women’s Sports means more than that. Like calling out sexist bs when companies give men real clothes to compete in and women get basically underwear.

The Nike Air Innovation Summit in Paris on Thursday.Credit...Dominique Maitre/WWD, via Getty Images

By Vanessa Friedman April 12, 2024

Ever since the Norwegian women’s beach handball team turned the fact that they were required to wear teeny-tiny bikini bottoms for competition into a cause célèbre, a quiet revolution has been brewing throughout women’s sports. It’s one that questions received conventions about what female athletes do — or don’t — have to wear to perform at their very best.

It has touched women’s soccer (why white shorts?), gymnastics (why not a unitard rather than a leotard?), field hockey (why a low-cut tank top?) and many more, including running.

So it probably should not have come as a shock to Nike that when it offered a sneak peek of the Team U.S.A. track and field unies during a Nike Air event in Paris celebrating its Air technology on Thursday (which also included looks for other Olympic athletes, like Kenya’s track and field team, France’s basketball team and Korea’s break dancing delegation), they were met with some less-than-enthusiastic reactions.

See, the two uniforms Nike chose to single out on the mannequins included a men’s compression tank top and mid-thigh-length compression shorts and a woman’s bodysuit, cut notably high on the hip. It looked sort of like a sporty version of a 1980s workout leotard. As it was displayed, the bodysuit seemed as if it would demand some complicated intimate grooming.

Citius Mag, which focuses on running news, posted a photo of the uniforms on Instagram, and many of its followers were not amused.

“What man designed the woman’s cut?” wrote one.

“I hope U.S.A.T.F. is paying for the bikini waxes,” wrote another. So went most of the more than 1,900 comments.

The running comedian Laura Green posted an Instagram reel in which she pretended to be trying on the look (“We’re feeling pretty, um, breezy,” she said) and checking out the rest of the athlete’s kit bag, which turned out to include hair spray, lip gloss and a “hysterectomy kit,” so the women would not have to worry about periods.

When asked, Nike did not address the brouhaha directly, but according to John Hoke, the chief innovation officer, the woman’s bodysuit and the man’s shorts and top are only two of the options Nike will have for its Olympic runners. There are “nearly 50 unique pieces across men’s and women’s and a dozen competition styles fine-tuned for specific events,” Mr. Hoke said.

Sha’Carri Richardson

Women will be able to opt for compression shorts, a crop top or tank and a bodysuit with shorts rather than bikini bottoms. The full slate of looks was not on hand in Paris but more will be revealed next week at the U.S. Olympic Committee media summit in New York. The Paris reveal was meant to be a teaser.

Anna Cockrell.Credit...Dominique Maitre/WWD, via Getty Images

Mr. Hoke also pointed out that Nike consults with a large number of athletes at every stage of the uniform design. Its track and field roster includes Sha’Carri Richardson, who happened to be wearing the compression shorts during the Paris presentation, and Athing Mu. And there are certainly runners who like the high-cut brief. (The British Olympic sprinter Dina Asher-Smith, another Nike athlete, told The New York Times last summer that while she opts to run in briefs, she also leans toward a leotard style, rather than a two-piece.)

What Nike missed, however, was that in choosing those two looks as the primary preview for Team U.S.A., rather than, say, the matching shorts and tanks that will be also available, it shored up a longstanding inequity in sports — one that puts the body of a female athlete on display in a way it does not for the male athlete.

“Why are we presenting this sexualized outfit as the standard of excellence?” said Lauren Fleshman, a U.S. national champion distance runner and the author of “Good for a Girl.” “In part because we think that’s what nets us the most financial gain from sponsors or NIL opportunities, most of which are handed out by powerful men or people looking at it through a male gaze. But women are breaking records with ratings in sports where you don’t have to wear essentially a bathing suit to perform.”

The problem such imagery creates is twofold. When Nike chose to reveal the high-cut bodysuit as the first Olympics outfit, purposefully or not, the implication for anyone watching is that “this is what excellence looks like,” Ms. Fleshman said.

That perception filters down to young athletes and becomes the model girls think they have to adopt, often at a developmental stage when their relationships with their bodies are particularly fraught.

And more broadly, given the current political debate around adjudicating women’s bodies, it reinforces the idea that they are public property.

Still, Ms. Fleshman said, “I’m glad Nike put this image out as the crown jewel of Olympic Team design,” because it may act as the catalyst for another conversation that has been long overdue.

“If you showed this outfit to someone from the W.N.B.A. or women’s soccer, they would laugh in your face,” she said. “We shouldn’t have to normalize it for track and field anymore. Time’s up on that.”

[writteninlunarlight-years]

I Have You Now

RadioApple X Reader

This is based on the song "Rule #34—Fish Inside a Birdcage", which is one of my all-time favorite bands. I have never written a poly story, but let's try it.

TW: AFAB Reader, Tentacles, Bondage, Sexual relations, Rough Sex, Polyamory, Voyeurism

The jazz club pulsed with electric energy, a tapestry of laughter and low, sultry whispers weaving through the air. Alastor had chosen this vibrant haven for a reason—it was the perfect backdrop to deepen his connection with Lucifer, a bond that had grown richer and more adventurous. They were both searching for new experiences to ignite the flames of their passion and tonight, they were ready to explore uncharted territories.

With a sly glint in his eye, Alastor had orchestrated a plan, putting out feelers for a captivating beauty who could match the formidable allure of both himself and Lucifer. And oh, how Mimzy had delivered. 

Alastor had visited the enchanting woman alone on numerous occasions, each rendezvous filled with tantalizing anticipation and whispered secrets. But tonight was different; Lucifer had expressed a desire to join him, to meet the woman who had trapped Alastor’s thoughts and desires.

They held a sacred agreement in their unique relationship: no touching unless permission was granted beforehand. Alastor, the more primal of the two, had always taken the lead in selecting who would grace their bed. Still, this woman had become an irresistible obsession, drawing him back repeatedly. Lucifer craved a taste of her allure, and Alastor was eager to share.

As the lights dimmed, anticipation crackled, and a hush swept over the crowd. The stage bathed in a soft, seductive glow, and a striking sinner emerged, her silhouette draped in a deep red sequin dress that caught the light like shimmering embers. She gripped the microphone with effortless grace, her voice emerging as a breathy caress that wove through the jazzy notes, wrapping around each listener like a lover’s embrace.

The audience was spellbound, whistling and hollering, their enthusiasm palpable. Her body was a work of art—every curve and contour mesmerizing, her face a fascinating blend of beauty and mischief. But her voice, a sultry hymn that stirred something primal in the hearts of all present, truly captivated them.

How envious they would be if they knew that this intoxicating siren, whose soft melodies filled the room, would soon be screaming and begging in ecstasy between the two most powerful beings of hell.

As her set unfolded, each song seemed to heighten Lucifer’s intrigue. His eyes were glued to her as she danced with a sultry confidence, the sequins of her dress glinting and shimmering until, by the last number, it transformed into a daring bodysuit that left little to the imagination.

“She wears that when we meet her in the back…” Alastor’s warm breath ghosted over Lucifer’s neck, a stark contrast to the cool shivers that coursed down his spine at the sound of her voice. Nodding helplessly, Lucifer surrendered to the enchantment, finally understanding why Alastor had been so drawn to this woman, even without sharing a bed.

As Mimzy took the stage to gently usher away the hopeful souls desperate for the sinner’s attention, Alastor felt a thrill of anticipation. Tonight wasn’t just about his time with Y/N but about witnessing the intoxicating dance between Lucifer and this mesmerizing enchantress. 

The night was still young, and the promise of passion loomed just around the corner, ready to unfold in a symphony of desire and exploration.

Helping Lucifer to his feet, Alastor guided him toward the VIP section of Mimzy's club, the air thick with anticipation and the heady scent of desire. As they entered, they were greeted by a living tapestry of beauty and seduction—Y/N and several other enchanting women glided gracefully between tables, their laughter and whispers mingling with the sultry jazz that filled the room. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the soft sounds of debauchery, a siren call for those ready to indulge.

Alastor felt a primal thrill surge through him; if Lucifer felt the same magnetic pull toward Y/N, he was ready to bring her home with them—Mimzy's rules be damned. Lucifer sank into one of the plush green armchairs, enveloped in comfort, while Alastor stood protectively behind him, his hand resting gently on his shoulder.

When Y/N locked eyes with them, it was as if a spark ignited between them. She was adorned in her stunning deep red sequin bodysuit, each facet glimmering as she moved. Her black strappy heels accentuated her long legs, and a bright red boa draped around her arms like a lover’s embrace. 

Lucifer's thoughts spiraled into delicious fantasies of restraint and pleasure, envisioning all the ways he could tie her up, making her plead for his attention. Meanwhile, Alastor couldn't help but imagine the intoxicating sight of Lucifer and this captivating woman beneath him, utterly powerless and exquisite.

As she approached, Y/N gracefully settled onto Lucifer’s lap, her chest tantalizingly close to his face, and glanced up at Alastor with a playful pout on her candied lips. 

“Oh, so he’s the one you brag about, Ali… He is handsome… such pretty porcelain skin…” Her perfectly manicured nails traced a delicate path down Lucifer’s cheek to the bowtie around his neck, tugging playfully.

The tension in Lucifer’s pants grew unbearable as he emitted a low growl, gripping the sides of his chair tightly to restrain himself from taking her right then and there. 

“Alastor has spoken of you often, Miss Y/N, yet your beauty transcends mere words…” His voice was rich and husky, the evidence of his arousal only fueling her desires as she shifted, straddling him with a sultry grace.

“Hmmm, Ali seems to do a lot of talking. I am more of an actions woman myself.” She ran her hands along Lucifer’s arms, guiding them to her hips, her body pressing against him. A sweet, delicate moan escaped her lips as she ground against his growing need.

“My, my, you two! Had I known this visceral reaction would happen, I would have introduced you sooner,” Alastor said, his desire flaring hotter by the second. 

She declined whenever he asked Y/N to be his courtesan, claiming Mimzy offered her everything she needed. But tonight, with Lucifer alongside him, he hoped to show her an unforgettable experience that would change her mind.

Mimzy approached, a playful smile dancing on her lips. “My, my, Alastor, planning to steal my most profitable soul by bringing your boy toy along?”

Alastor smirked, gently taking Y/N’s hand from Lucifer’s shoulder helping her to stand. As she rose, he assisted Lucifer, who was flushed and visibly aroused. 

“Now, Mimzy, a real broker, doesn’t show all his cards right away,” Alastor teased, leading Y/N down the hallway toward her room. “We’ll be where I always end up when I visit.”

Y/N’s room was a sanctuary, secluded from the revelry of the club. Mimzy had taken special care to craft a space where her siren voice could enchant without distraction. As they entered, the ruby-red room was aglow with candlelight, casting soft shadows that danced across the walls.

“Hmmm, I hope you two like it,” she purred, pulling away from the men as she sauntered deeper into her domain. Her movements were languid hypnotic, and both men followed her with hungry eyes. She settled onto the bed, legs crossed, leaning back with a flirtatious head tilt.

“Alastor told me we would have company, so I pulled out a nice chair if someone wants to watch.” Her gaze locked onto Alastor, memories of their conversations about wanting to witness the passionate connection between him and Lucifer swirling in the air.

Alastor brushed past Lucifer before he could speak with a knowing smile, unbuttoning his tailcoat and flaring it behind him as he sat in the plush armchair. A lazy, lust-filled smile spread across his face, ready to indulge in the exquisite scene unfolding before him.

"Go ahead, my dear. She is all yours...for now." Once permission was granted, it was as if a dam had broken. Lucifer approached, his heart racing as he followed the sultry path the woman had taken to her bed. Standing before her, he gazed down at her alluring, half-naked form, the soft glow of candlelight accentuating every curve.

She looked up at him, her eyes ablaze with a fire rivaling the depths of hell. Slowly, Lucifer reached for the boa that draped around her shoulders, his fingers brushing against her skin as he pulled it into his hands, feeling the luxurious fabric slip through his fingers.

"Look at me. Don’t stop looking into my eyes. Right now, you are mine, all mine, so just give in to me." She nodded, entranced by his words, surrendering as he guided her gently down onto the plush bed.

“Hmmm, do be gentle with her, Lucifer. I plan to ravish you both the moment you have your fill.” The playful threat hung in the air, a compelling promise that sent shivers down their spines. Both panting softly, they exchanged heated glances. Lucifer preferred his first time with someone to be slow, savoring each moment.

With a delicate touch, he tied her hands gently with her boa, his fingers gliding down her body, eliciting soft trembles and shudders that only intensified the growing desire within him. Kneeling between her legs, he made sure Alastor could see every intimate moment unfolding.

Lucifer lifted her left leg, placed it on his shoulder, and kissed his way up her inner thigh, taking his time to savor her. Each kiss drew forth beautiful moans. Her lips parted slightly, releasing warm, misty breaths that hung in the air like an intoxicating perfume. Once he finished with the left leg, he mirrored his attentions on the right, each kiss a sweet torment.

With her hands bound, she couldn't tangle her fingers in his hair or grip his arms; she was entirely at his mercy. As he playfully nipped at her ankle, a small drop of blood pooled, and he licked it away, sending a thrill of sensation coursing through her, making her moan once more.

Alastor watched with a smirk, enjoying the sight of her unraveling, whether from the thrill of being watched or the raw power of Lucifer. He relished the pleasure blooming on both their faces.

Lucifer pulled back slightly, leaving her to whine in frustration. He teased, removing his tailcoat and tossing it aside with a flourish. Each pop elicited soft whimpers from her as he unbuttoned his bow tie and vest. “Y/N, you follow orders so well. No wonder Alastor likes you so much; he always loves to give commands.” 

As the last button of his dress shirt came undone, he let himself fall gently atop her, supporting himself with his forearms beside her head. “So beautiful, blissed out, and I haven’t touched you yet. It’s true, you know, as Al said… I can change how big and thick it is on a whim, make you feel things you’ve never felt before.” Her eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping her lips as his words ignited her imagination. 

“Hmmm, how would you like it to be that deep inside you? Rearranging your very insides?” He kissed her neck as he spoke, feeling her breath quicken beneath him. The contrast of his dirty words and sweet actions sent her spiraling into a realm of ecstasy she had never known.

“I think she would like that, Luci. She hasn’t even experienced my appendages yet; I’m sure that will prepare her nicely.” Alastor’s smirk was palpable as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, the air thickening with anticipation.

Lucifer sat back on his haunches, eradicating his shirt, revealing his porcelain muscles glistening in the dim light. His soft, yellowed face reflected how utterly captivated he was by her. He undid his pants, kicking them off to reveal his desire, hidden only by a thin layer of fabric.

“Mhm, Lucifer, please... I want it...” Her voice was a sultry whisper, a plea that sent a rush through both men. She had only begged for a handful of guests, but Lucifer's power left her mind reeling, imagining how it would feel to have both of them at once.

“I haven’t even touched you yet, beautiful, and you already want my length inside you. How pitiful. Should I give it to you, Dolly?” He slid the zipper of her bodysuit down her back, knowing they both craved this connection, the thrilling anticipation of feeling one another before being taken by Alastor.

"Yes, please, please take me, then Ali, and you can play with me too..." Her voice was like music to both men's ears as the sentence caused both to moan deeply.

Alastor had eradicated his shirt, his dress pants opened, and his girthy cock out on display. Gentle, soft strokes from his hand as he continued to observe.

Lucifer had the bodysuit off and on the floor, Y/N's bare, beautiful body before him. He kissed her all over, avoiding the one place she needed him most. Letting a hot puff of air cover her sopping-wet pussy.

Finally, Lucifer allowed a hand to grace her folds and gather the slick that was pouring from her entrance. Rubbing her clit gently but at a firm pace, he watched her back arch, and her face contort in pleasure.

"Good girl, such a good girl, let go for me...need you nice and wet for me to fuck you." She babbled and nodded her high climbing. He added his other hand and worked her through not one but two orgasms with his hands alone.

To the side, Alastor moaned deeply at the sight. He couldn't lie. Lucifer was not just good with his forked tongue, but his hands, that of a creator could do magic all on their own. As he watched the slick cover Lucifer's thighs, he struggled to contain himself from going over there and taking them both.

Lucifer pulled away as your recent orgasm washed over you. He loved how your eyes rolled back and your tongue lulled gently out of your mouth. He released his length from his boxers, and he wasn't lying about his changing length.

Before both of your eyes, he had gotten longer and wider as he lined up at your dripping wet hole. Slowly, he entered and, with no patience to wait, bottomed out in you in one thrust.

Your beautiful scream turned moan had both demonic men alter to their demon forms as they listened to your pleas. Lucifer led your legs to his shoulders. As you hooked them behind his ears, he began at a brutal pace.

You felt him hit places that no other patron had hit before. Your eyes were lost in the back of your head as you babbled and begged for more.

The squelching sounds in the room only grew more rampant as Lucifer climbed to his peak. His words of praise and affirmation only spurred you both on.

Alastor growled demonically beside you two as he watched you both become undone. His possessive nature climbed to its rightful place as you both screamed in ecstasy.

Lucifer gently pulled out as soon as you were filled to the brim with his golden seed. He admired how beautifully he leaked out of you. Holding your legs up where they were around him just moments before, he looked at his partner and nodded him over.

"Come look at how pretty gold looks in her..." Alastor hummed; as he stood, his length was fully erect, and he slid off his pants. Climbing in the bed behind his partner, he leaned over his shoulder to look at your cunt.

"Hmmm, truly beautiful Y/N, my sweet boy made you so dirty. Lucifer, flip her around and clean her up, will you." Lucifer nodded and helped get you on your hands and knees. As he lay between your legs, he guided you down on his face and began to devour you.

Once your mouth opened to moan at the overstimulation, Alastor had his cock buried in your throat. He held your hair tight, forcing you to look up at him through your teary eyelashes.

"mhm, look at you, Y/N, you look so beautiful fucked out like this, with Lucifer's pretty face buried in you. Even more beautiful with my cock down your throat" Alastor gripped you tighter as his horns grew larger, and some black slimy tendrils appeared around him.

Your eyes widened as he caressed your face, and the moan on your pussy alerted you that he was also caressing Lucifer.

"Mhm, both of you will be good for me now, and I will give you a treat," Lucifer and you moan, nodding softly as Alastor's tendrils explore your bodies. The more curious of the black slime teasing your ass and gripping around Lucifer's hardening cock.

Alastor guided your head on his cock roughly, gaining more and more speed as he chased his high. The force of his thrust down your throat causes you to rub yourself on Lucifer's face more, making a moaning mess out of both of you.

As climax fast approached for Alastor, he stilled you. He let his cock sit deep in your mouth, a sinister smile painted on his face.

"Bite down, and I will kill you, understand," Before you had time to react to Alastors words, a cold, slimy tendril was entering your ass. Your eyes widened as more tears filled them from the way you were expanded. Once you were full, Alastor began to pump in you again.

Lucifer was gasping and crying under you; Alastor not only had a tendril stroking his cock tightly to mimic your sweet pussy, but he had two holding his legs up and apart so another one could enter him as well.

You were overstimulated and covered in sweat and sex. You had never felt so full and desired. As Alstor used your face and fucked Lucifer into eating you harder, it all became too much for you three.

Before long, three long moans exited you all, static popped, music played, and screams were heard. Each of your complete demon forms taking precedence from the shattering orgasms that filled you all.

Lucifer's cock throbbing from spilling two loads, had managed to cum down your whole back and ass. You covered Lucifer's face in your juices as overstimulation sent you over the edge. Alastor had you covered in his seed from your head to your chin, using his clawed hands to gather some and shove it in your mouth.

Once the appendages melted away, you felt a rush of exhaustion consume you as the suffocating boa constraint was removed. You were laid gently between Lucifer and Alastor, two figures who felt familiar and exhilaratingly dangerous. 

Lucifer's warm and gentle hands tangled in your hair, combing through the tousled mess that echoed the wild night you had shared. His touch was soothing, starkly contrasting to Alastor's, whose fingers danced dangerously across your hip, tracing intricate patterns that sent shivers through your body.

As dawn's first light crept into the room, casting a soft glow over the remnants of your night together, you began to pack your belongings. The once vibrant space now felt barren, stripped of its life in anticipation of the next woman who might step into your place as Mimzy's best voice. Yet, as you folded clothes and gathered trinkets, you realized your actual place was not on a stage basking in the spotlight. No, your heart sang harmoniously with these two men, creating a more intimate and profound melody.

"Come on, you two," Alastor urged cooly, a grin spreading across his face. "We don’t have all day! The sooner we return to the hotel, the sooner we can go for round two." 

Lucifer’s eyes sparkled with mischief at Alastor's teasing words. With a gentle squeeze of your hand, he led you toward your new beginning, an uncharted territory filled with promise and passion, where the music of your souls could intertwine once more.

[grannyandgrandpascreations]

My Grandpa Loves Me and Elvis Onesies® Bodysuit

A funny designed Onesies® features the phrase "Grandpa Loves Me And Elvis". Nothing matters more than a baby's comfort, and this one piece is the right choice for all active babies. The envelope neckline and three snap leg closure ensure comfort throughout the day. This is a perfect gift for Mom, Grandma, Baby Shower Gift or just because for that Little One!

These gender neutral Gerber brand Onesies® are incredibly comfy! Both the bodysuits and t-shirts are printed on 100% cotton for a super soft feel. These unisex baby bodysuits are great to use as a take home outfit, baby shower gift or everyday attire!

All items are created or designed by Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations. We also print and heat press our items using our professional, commercial grade heat press! Each design is made with High Quality, Heat Transfer Vinyl. All of our bodysuits and t-shirts are made to order in a smoke free and pet free home. We only print on genuine Gerber Onesies® and Children’s Place. Gerber Children’s Wear holds the trademark for the word “Onesie®”. The term “Onesie®” is to reference the Gerber label and to describe the genuine Gerber Children’s wear products we use at Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations.

Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Tumble dry low.

Please also know that although every effort is made to photograph my items accurately, color may differ slightly from photos due to different monitor settings. Please contact me with any questions about the color or size of any item before purchasing. Have something in mind that you’re looking for? I love custom orders! I can make custom changes to all existing designs that are currently available in my shop. Please send me a message, and I’ll be happy to help!

After a package leaves my hands with the post office, Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations is not held responsible. Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you so much for supporting our "small Granny & Grandpa's Shop", we truly appreciate YOU! Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop to view more of our creations!

Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com to view more products.

LET’S GET SOCIAL & BE FRIENDS! Like, Tag & Follow us for Our new Creations, Inspiration & Giveaways!

website/ www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop

facebook.com/ https://www.facebook.com/GrandpaHandmadecreations/

instagram.com/ https://www.instagram.com/grannyandgrandpacustomcreation/

goimagine.com/ https://goimagine.com/granny-and-grandpas-custom-creations/

pinterest.com/https://www.pinterest.com/grannyscustomcreations

#grannygrandpascustomcreations

A funny designed Onesies® features the phrase "Grandpa Loves Me And Elvis". Nothing matters more than a baby's comfort, and this one piece is the right choice for all active babies. The envelope neckline and three snap leg closure ensure comfort throughout the day. This is a perfect gift for Mom, Grandma, Baby Shower Gift or just because for that Little One!

These gender neutral Gerber brand Onesies® are incredibly comfy! Both the bodysuits and t-shirts are printed on 100% cotton for a super soft feel. These unisex baby bodysuits are great to use as a take home outfit, baby shower gift or everyday attire!

All items are created or designed by Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations. We also print and heat press our items using our professional, commercial grade heat press! Each design is made with High Quality, Heat Transfer Vinyl. All of our bodysuits and t-shirts are made to order in a smoke free and pet free home. We only print on genuine Gerber Onesies® and Children’s Place. Gerber Children’s Wear holds the trademark for the word “Onesie®”. The term “Onesie®” is to reference the Gerber label and to describe the genuine Gerber Children’s wear products we use at Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations.

Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Tumble dry low.

Please also know that although every effort is made to photograph my items accurately, color may differ slightly from photos due to different monitor settings. Please contact me with any questions about the color or size of any item before purchasing. Have something in mind that you’re looking for? I love custom orders! I can make custom changes to all existing designs that are currently available in my shop. Please send me a message, and I’ll be happy to help!

After a package leaves my hands with the post office, Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations is not held responsible. Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you so much for supporting our "small Granny & Grandpa's Shop", we truly appreciate YOU! Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop to view more of our creations!

Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com to view more products.

LET’S GET SOCIAL & BE FRIENDS! Like, Tag & Follow us for Our new Creations, Inspiration & Giveaways!

website/ www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop

facebook.com/ https://www.facebook.com/GrandpaHandmadecreations/

instagram.com/ https://www.instagram.com/grannyandgrandpacustomcreation/

goimagine.com/ https://goimagine.com/granny-and-grandpas-custom-creations/

pinterest.com/https://www.pinterest.com/grannyscustomcreations

#grannygrandpascustomcreations

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

birthday sex

pairing: jill valentine x reader

tags/cws: lingerie, oral, thigh riding, overstim, sex toys, jill is a tease and a menace

summary: reader and jill are dating and reader doesn't know what to get jill for her birthday and ends up deciding on surprising her by wearing a lace bodysuit

a/n: div creds to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

wc: 1.5k

tags: @vaaaaaiolet @rigorwhoring @withonly-sweetheart

Buying Jill a birthday present is impossible. Whenever you ask her what she wants, her answer is always, 'I don't need anything, I have you, and I'm more than happy with that', and you’d persist if her compliments didn’t fluster you – they always do. But as her special day gets closer, you become more and more fixated on that one thought: she deserves something special. 

You decide that if the only thing she wants is you, then you'll wrap yourself up like a present and - the realization hits you. You've never worn lingerie in front of Jill - or anyone, for that matter. You’d always thought it’d be such a hassle to go out and spend so long trying things on for them to be taken off immediately if and when you first get to show them off.

And you’re proven right about the hassle. You spend hours (and a fortune) at Victoria's Secret one afternoon, and come home absolutely exhausted after you find the perfect lace bodysuit (and take advantage of the store's 5 for 35 dollars sale on panties).

You're even more exhausted the next day when you have to figure out how to put the garment on without an employee guiding you - you pray it'll be easier to take off, or you'll have to let Jill rip it off of you. Which wouldn't be all that bad, come to think of it.

Your tiredness subsides – or is overwritten by desire – when Jill walks in dressed in her typical office wear, which never fails to turn you on. As does everything else she wears.

You greet her at the door, a little giddy about the surprise you've planned for her. It’s not that you’re not always happy to see her, you’re just usually half-asleep on the couch after your own long work day. 

Jill notices your unique excitement and gives you a look of suspicion - intrigue, too, and asks, "what's going on?"

"Nothing," you say, sarcastically adding, "Oh, except for your birthday. I almost forgot."

"I'm sure you did. It's not like you've been asking me everyday for the last three weeks how I want to spend it."

"I know you probably want to relax a bit first since you've had a long day at work, but I do want to give you your present."

"I told you not to get me anything."

"You'll like it… I hope."

"Now I'm really curious."

"Then, follow me."

You take her hand and lead her to her bedroom. You have her sit on the bed.

"Stay there," you say, "and close your eyes."

"Fine, but I swear to god if it's some sort of reptile or tarantula-"

"Not even close."

Though her eyes are closed, she can hear your clothes hitting the floor, and her lips curve into a smile, knowing what's to come.

You walk towards her, close enough that she can touch you. You take her hand and guide it over the fabric and she hums in satisfaction. "So far, I'm liking my gift."

"Open your eyes and see the rest."

She does, and you see that rare full grin of hers that makes you want to jump with joy (though, your mind is a bit preoccupied with the thought of what she might do to you in the coming moments, so if you equate arousal and joy, then yeah, you’re feeling pretty fucking joyful).

"Take a seat, beautiful," she says, patting her lap.

Jill has you right where she wants you, straddling her thigh, ruining her good pants since the lacy panties do little to cover up your wetness. It's not like you could hide it from her anyway. It's painted all over your face— lust.

You lean in to kiss her, but she grabs your cheeks before your lips can touch hers.

"Ah-ah," she says, "my birthday, my rules."

She coaxes you to nod with her hand still cupping your face.

"You're not even gonna kiss me?" you whine.

"If I kiss you, then I have to close my eyes and right now, I want to see you."

"It's only fair if I get to see you too."

"I'm right here, baby doll."

She knows what you mean, but you have no rebuttal. The fact of the matter is: Jill looks hot with or without her clothes on.

"Maybe you should give me a reason to take off my clothes," she says. "Why don't you finish what you started?"

Her gaze points you towards the wet spot on her thigh.

Desire surpasses embarrassment and you place your hands on Jill's shoulders for better leverage as you slowly but steadily grind against her thigh.

"Look at me," she says, lifting your chin. "As much as I love your gorgeous body, I wanna see your pretty face too."

If only there were words to describe her beauty, maybe, then, you'd be able to use them. You’re speechless, but not quiet, your mouth is occupied by breathy moans.

Not because she's nice, but because she's impatient, Jill hoists you up and strips down to her underwear. Before she places you back where you belong – straddling her thigh – she finds the buttons at the crotch of your bodysuit and undoes them, leaving your glistening slit on display.

She coaxes you into your first orgasm of the night with her sultry voice and her hands on your hips, guiding you.

You'd be an idiot to think it was over.

It's orgasm after orgasm until you're crying, begging Jill to give you a breather, begging her to take her clothes all the way off, begging her to let you touch her.

But no, she holds a vibrator to your clit and tells you you're a good girl for taking it. Those two words "good girl" have you wrapped around her finger(s), which pump in and out of you, over and over again.

"Jill, I can't," you say after the umpteenth time she's sent you over the edge. "It's too much."

"Am I hurting you?" she asks with genuine concern.

"No, it doesn't hurt… I'm just sensitive."

She hums in understanding, in momentary surrender, as she removes all stimulation.

You sigh as relief washes over you, but it only lasts for a second before it turns back into need. It's like she's trained you, reduced you to the aching feeling in your core.

You watch as she cleans the toys she used on you with the same meticulousness that she does with her weapons (the ones that aren't used against you). She's only half-focused, peeking at you in her periphery. You have the same power over her as she does over you. She cannot suppress her desire anymore.

"Fuck it," she mutters, placing the vibrator on the bedside table and climbing into bed with you.

"Fuck me," you say.

"That's the plan," she says.

The next conscious thought you have is how soft her lips are despite the fervor in her kisses.

"Can I go down on you?" you ask, giving her your most irresistible pleading face.

She's usually reluctant to let you take control in that way despite the fact that it makes her cum the hardest. It feels like she's baring her soul to you when she lets go of control in those moments.

"Promise I'll take good care of you," you say. "And we can stop whenever you want."

If there is one thing she feels for you, it is love. And what is love if not trusting another person with your whole heart?

(If there is one thing you feel it is honored to be trusted and to trust in return). 

"Okay," she says, and lies down.

You let her take off her own clothes – what little is left on her body.

"You're so beautiful," you say.

"Shut up," she says, flustered, vulnerable, but most of all insistent that you are the beautiful one in the relationship. It might be the number one thing you argue about.

"Make me," you say, and the words may be cliche, but they have a near perfect success rate.

She shoves your head between her thighs and moans when your tongue swipes along her folds – groans when you pull back to say, "I want you to let yourself feel good, give yourself a birthday gift."

"I was," she whines – a rare sound, one she must’ve learned from you, "but you stopped."

Your apology is muffled against her skin, but your touch can say more than words ever could.

It's her natural instinct to push you away when she nears the edge, feeling vulnerable knowing you'll get to see her, feel her, taste her, in the most intimate way possible. So, when you know she’s about to cum, you grab her thighs, firm but gentle still, and keep your face buried between them.

She barely has time to grab a pillow to muffle her moans. You’d already gotten enough noise complaints from your neighbors, it’s common courtesy at this point. 

It takes her a moment to get her bearings straight as you've managed to completely wear her out, and you consider making a joke about her age showing, but you don't.

Instead you say, "happy birthday."

To which she replies a mumbled, "thanks" as she hoists you up so that you're face to face.

And you fall asleep on her chest before you can say anything else.

[the-californicationist]

The Green Light

Price/FReader - somnophilia, cnc

MDNI/18+

AO3 - Comments/Reblogs lovingly appreciated

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+

John had been on four planes, three trains, two boats, and a goddamn moped to make it back home tonight, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had slept in a real bed. He could feel all of his bones individually, and they all ached in their own unique ways. He was bruised, limping, and wearing a shiner on one eye, battered to the point of agony. But still, despite his emotional, mental, and physical exhaustion; all he could think about was what color panties you had on.

It had started as a joke. You’d been watching some television show where the characters used the red-light, green-light system for getting down and dirty, and you’d suggested wearing bright green panties for when you wanted John to wake you up with his cock. Jokes turned into flirting, and flirting turned into an online purchase, and now, you were able to call him to action while you were fast asleep.

He’d been hesitant at first, but after you pinky promised that you’d tell him to stop if you wanted him to stop, he agreed to try it out. When he’d packed his bags to go back to his duty, you’d tucked one of your brand new green thongs into the side pocket, leaving him a clear message for when he came back. Now, as he walked in the house, he would kill to see those bright green frills tucked beneath his sheets, and he was hungry to taste your warm hole with his tongue.

John shed his gear bag and jacket at the door. He desperately needed a shower, but he was too eager, too needy. He made his way directly to your bedroom and peered into the dark. You were sound asleep, half in and half out of the duvet, making soft snuffling sounds against his pillow. You wanted to know the moment that he was home safe. So, there you were, sprawled and waiting for him.

He shucked off his pants and shirt, making himself naked in front of your sleeping form. John was already growing harder, and with each deep, sleepy breath, he hungered more and more to get a taste of your body. His eyes raked over your scantily clad form. The blanket was covering too much of you to tell him what you were wearing, but he knew it wasn't much. Your neck was bare down to your back, and your shapely calves led up to juicy, unclothed thighs. With a careful hand, John slowly tugged the blanket up over your ass, and he prayed to any god who would listen that your panties were garishly green.

The sigh that left his lungs struggled to escape, constricted by his gasping throat as he saw that you were clad in a neon green, crotchless bodysuit. It was so over the top, and such a departure from your cozy, comfy persona that he knew you’d picked it out on purpose, just for him, just for his return.

You snored a little and readjusted yourself, causing Price to step back, not wanting to wake you. But, as you did, the duvet slipped off of you and John could read the words you’d written in black sharpie before you’d gone to bed. Across your belly, just above your panty line, you’d scrawled, “Welcome home!” and added hearts leading down to your freshly shaven pussy.

John felt all of the blood in his enormous body rush to where it was needed: his heavy, throbbing cock.

Your center was uncovered in the crotchless outfit, and your folds gleamed in the dim light of the bedroom. You were wet, perhaps by your own hand earlier in the night, and John bent down to get a closer look. Gingerly, he used his fingers to gently press apart your lips, finding your core warm and ready for him. He let his thick digits slide into position, and he began to slowly massage lazy, easy circles into your walls.

Goddamn you were pliant. Your body’s willingness to cede to his heavy petting made him groan deeply, catching himself so he wouldn’t wake you up. As he pushed his fingers into you, your muscles eased. Usually, they were tight and tense, eager to come and excited to feel his presence. But now, you were asleep, ignorant of his work in your conscious mind, and only your body was available to communicate with him.

So, it did. Your body loosened you, relaxing your walls. It made your groin swell, filling it with blood. It sent him your wetness, letting him know all of his desires were welcome in you. He put his mouth to your clit, suckling on you as gently as he could, daring to taste your sweetness as he fingered you in your sleep. As you became slick enough to fuck in earnest on his hand, he created the most outrageous noises, sticky and milky, playing in your come with greedy joy, licking you over and over again, until he could feel you trembling beneath his mouth. You moaned, and he slowed his efforts, trying to determine if you were truly asleep. You went back to your deep breathing, and John decided it was now or never.

He mounted you like an animal, looming over you like a predator does to its prey, his huge shoulders and triceps bulging as he situated himself on the mattress. His breathing had become labored, and as he dipped the head of his cock into your pulsing hole, he let out a long, ragged sigh of relief.

You moaned again, involuntarily squeezing your walls around him, reacting in the way nature intended, shameless and bold in your sleeping want. You felt like heaven, like the most comforting embrace. And for a man weary with pain, being cradled by you in the soft petals of your flower was like being magically healed. He felt the plump head of his cock drag itself along your core, slipping through your relaxed wetness easily, searching for the bottom of your warm pool, sinking into you like a stone in a still pond, crashing through the silky embrace of your body.

John aimed to fuck you so slowly that you wouldn’t wake up until the very end. He wanted to see how far he could go, and he needed to show you how surely he trusted you. This was something you’d needed from him, and now that he knew how your body would react to his work, he hungered for it, too.

It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy you when you were awake and participating. You were excellent in bed, and you made him feel overcome with ecstasy nearly every time you fucked each other. But, there was something so innocent and honest about your sleeping form. Your unconscious body couldn’t hold itself back. If it was hungry for him, he would know it. Your body would feed itself to him; the ultimate submission. The responsibility and trust you’d given him was immense, and the honor of it felt better than any medal he’d ever pinned to his uniform.

He fucked you a little faster, making an effort not to distract you from your slumber, and he noticed your body was positively flooding your pussy with lubrication. You were about to come, he realized, and he watched, wide-eyed, as it happened.

Your body didn’t tense as it normally did. Instead, you rode your orgasm like a low wave, gently riding across the roiling, tumbling sea that was bursting within you. You nearly wet yourself from the outpouring of your slick, soaking John’s cock and matting the dense hair around his base. You were whimpering sweetly for him in an ancient tongue, one that society had suppressed. It was so natural to hear, and so pure. John reveled in you like Bacchus, slaking his thirst with your come, unable to sate his hedonism with just one taste. He wanted it all.

He tried to hold it together, but he heard himself whimpering above you, struggling to keep himself from following you into the pleasure-filled abyss.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered below his breath. He felt himself wanting to scream out your name, to wake you, to call you to join him in this joyful work, but he buried it somewhere deep in his throat, grunting darkly for you instead with each and every thrust.

Then, you moaned more intensely, and he knew you were stirring awake. He wanted to slow down, to lull you back to sleep, but his body was no longer under his command. It thrust him into you, loose like a hound off-leash, rushing and pounding with a singular purpose.

“John?” You whispered, trying to understand what was happening to you.

“Fuck, m’sorry, love,” he moaned, the words slurred and malformed, “Couldn’t wait. Had to have you. Right fuckin’ now.”

Your mind fed you all the pleasure you’d been missing, slamming into your brain all at once, and he felt the result. You bared down on him harder than you’d ever done before, your pussy clenching around his cock, making it almost impossible for him to move. The wet, supple friction that slipped across his hard rod was just what he needed to come, and you wrenched it from him, stealing it with your unimaginable fury of pleasure.

He gasped, unable to control his reactions,

“Oh! Oh, fuck! I’m… I’m gonna come. Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

You couldn’t say anything; you were blinded by your climax, feeling the waves of euphoria crash into you over and over, washing you in deep, a rapturous sea. John’s cock was so deep within you, making you feel so full, and since he had made you so soft and ready for him, your pleasure hit you as hard as it could.

As he filled you, you heard him beg for something he couldn’t name,

“Please, love… Fuck. Fuck. Bloody hell, please. Please…”

“Come in me, John,” you coaxed him, angling your hips so he could sink himself deeper into your center, “I want to feel you come in me. Please.”

He turned you onto your side and repositioned himself so that he could fuck you as your big spoon, wrapping you in his arms and locking you in place, trapping you against him as he bucked. As he did, he clutched at you cruelly, trying to channel all of his reserved energy into a last-moment’s effort. Now that you were awake, he could slam himself into you with abandon, and you felt him lose control of his movements. He was shaking your whole body, making your bones shudder beneath his huge weight, crafting sticky, popping, slapping noises as he slammed skin into glorious skin.

Finally, he stuttered in his pounding, and your pussy stretched with the tell-tale throb of his heavy cock as it pulsed from dumping rope after rope of cream into your hole. You could feel it filling you, hot and thick. His eyes were clenched shut, unable to face the unearthly passion you had wrought together.

“Welcome home, baby,” you kissed his hand gently, running your nails along his heavy forearm, earning yourself another tremulous groan.

He smiled at you, riding out his high in your dripping hole,

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

[thesimline]

Breaking my hiatus to put together a goth inspired lookbook because the official Sims kit - WOOF. The goth culture has so many varied and cool sub-cultures, so I chose some of my favourites to showcase today.

Cybergoth is the probably the most unique aesthetic when it comes to goth sub-cultures; marrying goth, raver and cyberpunk fashion into a wholly unique style. It's typified by the pairing of stark black with highly contrasting neons and brights. Both hairstyles and make up are highly intricate.

Hair | Hair Colour Overlay | Brows (TSR) | Eye Makeup | Earrings | Mask (TSR) | Choker (TSR) | Top (Fitness Stuff) | Arm Warmers | Nails (Base Game) | Pants | Boots

Gothic Pinup or Gothabilly style combines the curve hugging fashion of the 1950s with the dark aesthetic of goth culture. It subverts the typical cheesecake pinup by adding cool tattoos, creepy motifs and moody makeup.

Hair | Brows (TSR) | Sunglasses | Lipstick | Choker | Dress | Nails (Spa Day) | Stockings (TSR) | Shoes (TSR)

Nu Goth is one of the most accessible forms of goth fashion. It is a lot more sleek and modern, with less decorative elements and more understated details. It incorporates everyday clothing pieces, albeit in a darker colour palette than "normal" fashion.

Hair | Brows | Lashes (TSR) | Eyeshadow (TSR) | Earrings | Septum & Lip Piercings | Lipstick | Top | Jacket Mesh | Jacket Recolour | Nails | Rings (TSR) | Skirt | Ripped Tights | Striped Tights (TSR) | Boots

Romantic Goth is a lot more fantastical than other goth sub-cultures. It draws inspiration from the Victorian era - with corsets, bustled skirts and laced boots predominately featured. Both clothing pieces and hairstyles are long and flowing.

Hair | Brows | Lashes | Eyeshadow (TSR) | Nose Piercings | Lipstick | Choker | Dress | Nails (TSR) | Boots

Pastel Goth is very similar in its divergence as Cybergoth, however this sub-culture swaps out the neon brights for girly pastels. Besides its unique colour palette, it is characterised by heavy decoration and cute-but-creepy details.

Hair | Eyeliner | Eyeshadow (TSR) | Lipstick | Top | Bodysuit | Nails | Rings | Hand Tattoos (TSR) | Skirt | Belt | Body Tattoos | Stockings | Boots

Trad Goth (AKA Traditional Goth) is the genesis of goth fashion, originating in the 1980s alongside the beginnings of goth music. It is a lot less prescriptive in its style, although it does feature a lot of leather, studs, graphic makeup and big hair.

Hair | Sideburns | Eyeshadow (TSR) | Blush (TSR) | Lipstick | Earrings (Get Famous) | Necklace | Dress | Belt | Nails | Ring One (TSR) | Ring Two (TSR) | Ring Three (TSR) | Boots (Get Together)

With thanks to some amazing creators: @daylifesims @joshseoh @pinkycustomworld @julhaos @evellsims @madlensims @nords-sims @pralinesims @blahberry-pancake @bustedpixels @sentate @arltos @miikocc @sagittariahx @clumsyalienn @joliebean @eunosims @natalia-auditore @twisted-cat @regina-raven @cloudcat @candysims4 @simskala @arethabee @trillyke @tunayegit @kijiko-sims @evilquinzel @qwertysims @grafity-cc @glitterberrysims

[thebunnednun]

LOYALTY [Chapter 2]

Katsuki Bakugou x Sugar Baby! Reader

Summary: Fuck a breakup, you ever have your fiance and partner of 8 years dump you during his promotion party in front of your bosses and the whole office with the girl he told you, “Don’t worry about,” on his arm?

The man you moved continents to support and move in with while you worked from home and helped promote his hero career because you thought he loved you and he called it an investment in your future together while you just did it out of love?

Welp, now he’s kicked you out in a strange land and you’ve gotta make it on your own. When you can't get a new job or apartment and tuition is almost due: you’ve got two options: Strip it or lose.

And I guess the angry blond that keeps coming back to your club wants to help you too.

I've been holding off on releasing more chapters because chapter 1 didn't do so well. But this is taking off on ao3 so I'm giving it another chance.

Chapter 1 is found here The poster for it contains hints for the next chapters.

Chapter Song is: Cyber sex by Doja Cat

------------------------Chapter 2: Behind the Glass-----------------------

The neon lights of the club flickered, casting a vibrant glow that bounced off the walls and mirrors. The bass of the music pulsed through the floor, a rhythmic thrum that set the tempo for the night. You adjusted your mask and wig in the mirror, ensuring that your identity remained concealed. The anonymity was a small comfort in a job that offered little else.

Marshmallow peeked into your side of the room, her face beaming with encouragement. “You’re going to do great tonight,” she said, her voice warm and reassuring. Her own outfit—a soft, lavender bodysuit with delicate lace trim—made her look like a whimsical dream. “Just remember, they’re here for the show. Give them something to remember.”

You nodded, trying to shake off the nervous energy that bubbled beneath your skin. You had been working behind the glass for a few weeks now, learning the nuances of the routine, mastering the pole, and getting accustomed to the constant surveillance of the security cameras. It was a strange existence, dancing in isolation while the world outside remained a mystery.

The glass panel separated you from the rest of the room, a barrier that allowed you to perform without being seen. On the other side, the room was filled with the occasional murmur of voices and the clinking of glasses. You focused on the task at hand, pulling yourself into a graceful routine that combined elegance with just a hint of spice.

As you began your dance, the rhythm of the music seemed to blend with the beat of your heart. The movements flowed naturally, your body moving in perfect harmony with the rhythm. Your mind wandered to the surprises of the club—especially the frequent visits from pro heroes. It was an odd revelation, but not entirely unexpected. In a place like this, discretion was paramount, and the allure of anonymity must have been appealing even to those in the spotlight.

Halfway through your routine, you heard a yawn from the other side of the glass. The sound cut through the music, startling you momentarily. You couldn’t help but smile at the familiarity of the gesture. It was Marshmallow, likely on her break.

“Are you really that bored?” you called out, your voice muffled by the glass.

The response came with a chuckle. “Not bored, just waiting for you to finish up. Got a special client tonight—one of those ‘high roller’ types. They usually want something a bit… more unique.”

You finished the last of your routine, striking a final pose before retreating to the changing area. Marshmallow was already waiting for you, her eyes glinting with a mix of mischief and sympathy.

“Special client, huh?” you asked, pulling off your mask and adjusting your wig.

“Yep,” she replied, leaning casually against the wall. “Sometimes it’s just a big spender, sometimes it’s someone looking for a bit of extra fun. Just do your best and keep it professional. And if they try anything… well, you know who to call.”

You nodded, feeling a shiver of anticipation mixed with anxiety. As you prepared for the special client, Marshmallow’s reassuring presence was a comfort. You had grown to trust her in the short time you had known her. She had become a mentor of sorts, guiding you through the intricacies of this world.

When the time came, you stepped into the room where the special client awaited. The setup was familiar—a dimly lit space with a plush sofa positioned in the back. The client’s silhouette was obscured by the shadows, and you could make out little beyond the outline of a large figure.

You began your routine, pouring all of your new skills and emotion into the performance. The glass barrier between you and the client created a sense of separation, allowing you to maintain your composure while still delivering an intimate experience. You did your best to remember everything the girls taught you earlier and tried to channel your own sexiness into the dance. 

The minutes seemed to blend together, punctuated by the occasional murmur from the client. As you finished your routine and prepared to leave, you felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment. The job was done, and you had managed to maintain your anonymity once again.

Back in the dressing room, Marshmallow was waiting with a smile. “How’d it go?” she asked, her voice filled with genuine curiosity.

“Not too bad,” you replied, trying to sound casual. “He left a good tip too.”

She gave you a reassuring pat on the back. “Good to hear. Now, let’s hit the gym. We’ve got to keep those moves sharp.”

After your shifts, you and Micheal, or Marshmallow as she was known in the club, headed toward the gym after another grueling night, she glanced over at you with a thoughtful expression. The treadmill’s rhythmic thud matched your steady pace, and you could see her reflection in the gym’s large mirrors.

“You know,” Micheal said, her voice breaking through the thump of the treadmill, “there’s other ways to make money online. Not just the stuff you’re doing now.”

You looked over at her, curiosity piqued. Micheal was a striking woman, her skin a rich, deep brown that glowed under the gym’s fluorescent lights. Her hair was styled in a sleek, ponytail that framed her face perfectly. She wore a workout outfit that accentuated her strong physique, but it was her eyes—full of knowledge and warmth—that drew you in.

“I’m already working online during the day,” you replied, trying to keep your voice casual.

Micheal chuckled and shook her head, pulling out her phone. “That’s cute. But there’s more out there, you know. Look.” She turned the screen towards you, revealing a list of adult apps and websites. Your cheeks flushed as you glanced away, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Don’t be a prude,” Micheal teased, her smile playful. “You don’t even have to show your face if you don’t want to.”

You considered her suggestion, weighing it against your pressing financial needs. The tuition and apartment costs were mounting, and every bit of extra income would help. “I’ll think about it,” you said, focusing on your workout to distract yourself.

When you returned home, exhaustion hit you like a ton of bricks. You slumped into your chair and sifted through a stack of rejection letters, each one a reminder of how tough the job market was. After scheduling more interviews, you allowed yourself a short nap, hoping it would recharge you.

The nap, however, turned into a nightmare. You dreamt of your ex, his voice insistent, pressuring you to move to Japan with him. His words echoed in your mind, manipulating and demanding, until you woke up drenched in sweat and gasping for breath. The fear and anxiety from the dream clung to you, adding to your already fraught emotions.

You sat up, wiping your face with a shaky hand, and remembered Micheal’s advice. You fumbled for your phone and shot her a text, asking about the safest website where you wouldn’t have to get nude.

Micheal’s reply came swiftly. She sent you a link to “Secret Admirer,” an app where the user is in control. “It’s a sugar baby app, but the baby calls the shots. You can add a shopping list link and build a profile with pics and videos. Within a few hours, you should start getting messages.”

You stared at the link, your mind racing with possibilities. Micheal’s explanation gave you a small glimmer of hope. “Thanks <33,” you texted back, gratitude mingling with apprehension.

‘Fuck it I’m doing this.’

That evening, you set up your account on “Secret Admirer.” With the help of makeup, filters, and another wig, you created a completely new persona. You named her “Princess Diamond” the antithesis of your real self. Where you were reserved and introspective, Princess was a brash, demanding spoiled brat with an insatiable appetite for luxury. 

You looked at the final result on your screen, feeling a mix of satisfaction and discomfort. This new identity was a way to protect yourself, to shield your true self from the harshness of your circumstances. You hoped it would work, that it would provide the financial cushion you needed to get back on your feet.

At least you hoped it would. 

The basement storage room was transformed into your temporary haven. It wasn’t much—just a simple space with concrete walls and a basic light fixture—but you were determined to make it livable. You assembled your old bed frame and draped plain white sheets over it, creating a semblance of comfort. Around the room, you hung colorful banners and posters, adding splashes of personality to the otherwise drab space. The long changing divider you set up did its best to conceal the boxes of your other belongings, creating an illusion of privacy.

Satisfied with your efforts, you propped your phone against a stack of boxes and dialed Micheal for her input. The call connected quickly, and Micheal’s familiar face appeared on the screen. 

“Hey, what’s up?” she greeted, her voice carrying a tone of casual curiosity. 

“I’m about to do a show,” you said, trying to sound upbeat despite the gnawing anxiety in your stomach. You flipped the camera to give her a view of your makeshift setup.

Micheal’s eyes darted around the room as she took in the scene. Her expression shifted from impressed to contemplative. “Nice work on the quick thinking,” she said with a smile. “Crafty, but you do know it’s going to need to be more hyper-feminine if you’re going to really sell this, right?”

You sighed, looking around at the modest decor. The banners and posters were a good start, but the room still felt incomplete. The bed frame was plain, and the sheets were ordinary. The divider was practical but hardly glamorous. “Just what I was thinking, any ideas?” you said, feeling a bit tired.

Micheal nodded, her eyes narrowing slightly as she thought. “Hmmm, I have an idea. Just keep taking pics and videos of yourself for now. I’ll be in touch with more details.”

She blew a few playful kisses into the camera before ending the call, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You turned your attention back to your profile, updating it with the new photos and videos you’d taken. Despite the fatigue and frustration, a small spark of excitement flickered within you. There were a few new messages waiting, and the prospect of new connections invigorated you.

As you were thinking of settling in for the evening, your phone buzzed with a new text from Micheal. “Join my live,” it read. Your confusion was soon overshadowed by curiosity as you prepared to join her stream.

You set your phone up on a stand and waited for the connection. Micheal appeared on screen, her usual vibrant self. Only she didn't have a top on. The stream ran smoothly, with Micheal interacting with her audience and discussing various topics with you. Everything seemed normal until Micheal suddenly shooed you away from the screen, her demeanor shifting to something more serious.

“Alright, now listen,” she instructed, her voice taking on a commanding tone. “I want you to turn on your music and point the camera towards the divider. Put on a show for me.”

Realization dawned on you. Micheal was supposed to be doing a squirt show right now, and it was up to you to make it engaging. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. You started one of your more seductive routines, moving behind the divider. The muted, private space was your sanctuary, and you poured your energy into the performance, swaying and winding with practiced ease. 

It was ironically a little easier to strip down to your panties in this storage unit than in the club. As you danced, you heard the constant ding of notifications from your phone. The influx of messages and tips was almost overwhelming, and the steady hum of your phone’s vibrations grew louder. It wasn’t long before the phone started to overheat and beep as the screen became uncomfortably warm. You scrambled to throw on your jeans and sweater before you placed the phone in front of a fan, trying to cool it down before it shut off entirely.

The stream ended abruptly as the phone’s temperature soared, and you were kicked out of the live session. Your heart raced as you checked your account, eyes widening in disbelief at the amount of money that had accumulated. The funds were substantial, far more than you had anticipated.

That wasn’t what shocked you though. 

Alongside the influx of money, there was a transfer from Micheal with a note that read, “Buy yourself some pretty things, xxxooo~” Her generosity was both a relief and a source of renewed hope. You marveled at the support Micheal had provided, feeling a deep sense of gratitude and appreciation.

“I love that woman!”

With your phone finally cooled down, you took a moment to reflect on the evening’s events. The unexpected success of your performance was a beacon of hope in an otherwise tumultuous time. Micheal’s kindness and the financial cushion she had provided were a lifeline, giving you the breathing room you needed to continue rebuilding your life.

You closed your eyes, feeling a cautious optimism about the future. The shit show was far from over, but with support from Micheal, you felt a bit more secure. The stream left you feeling a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. It was way easier than working at the club. 

After the whirlwind of emotions, you found yourself staring at your phone, hands trembling as you recorded a voice message for Micheal. You knew she'd probably be in the shower right now to clean off from her "performance". Your voice wavered as you spoke, a mix of disbelief and gratitude evident in your tone.

“Hey Micheal, I— I don’t even know how to thank you. How did you do this? Why? I’m still in shock!” 

You sent the message and waited, your heart pounding in anticipation. A few moments later, Micheal’s reply came through, her voice warm and reassuring.

“Hey there, calm down. I was hyping up your profile during my show. My clients were really interested, and it got you a solid fanbase right off the bat. You’ve got a lot of potential, and they’re excited to meet you. Just make sure to keep everything separate from your real life. Buy things that fit your online persona so you don’t get too attached.”

Her advice was practical and wise, but it only fueled the mix of relief and anxiety you felt. “Okay,” you replied, taking a deep breath. “I’ll get on it. Thanks so much for everything.” You blew her some kisses that you caught before you both hung up and immediately jumped onto Pinterest, scrolling through endless pages of Y2K fashion and room decor ideas.

Your room, now to be decorated in pastel pinks and nostalgic patterns, needed a bit more polish to fit the vibe. You envisioned adding bold prints, glittering accents, and maybe a few playful neon signs to complete the look. With a clear plan in mind, you set about buying new items for your space, making sure to keep the majority of the money aside for your tuition and a new apartment.

Okay, maybe you were looking at that stuff because your ex never let you decorate the apartment how you wanted. 

Just before bed, you decided to go live, just one more time.

As you started the stream, you were pleasantly surprised to see a handful of subscribers already in the comment section. The messages began to flood in:

StarGazer88 : Wow, you look stunning! The setup is amazing!

RetroFan23 : Your room is so cute! Love the decor!

FrightenFae : You’re absolutely beautiful! Can’t wait to see more!

You grinned at the screen, feeling a rush of excitement. Channeling the confidence Micheal had coached you on, you began to speak with a playful, almost teasing tone. “Hey everyone! Thanks for joining me tonight. I’m thinking of doing a Q&A show. What do you guys think?”

The chat erupted with enthusiasm, a chorus of “Yes!” and “Definitely!” filling the comments. Some viewers also requested a room tour, and you decided to make a playful challenge out of it.

“Well, if someone tips $500, I’ll do it,” you said with a wink and a smile, your voice dripping with sweet, sultry charm.

To your astonishment, the screen quickly filled with notifications of tips, and within moments, a user named Spiceman420 had tipped the entire $500.

“Hey, Spiceman420, thank you so much!” you said, beaming at the camera. Your genuine smile lit up the screen, and the viewers went wild with excitement.

As the tips continued to roll in, you tried to keep your composure, but your phone was starting to overheat again. “Guys, please slow down! My phone can’t handle this!” you pleaded, trying to keep your voice light and engaging.

Determined to keep your promise, you stood up and gave the camera a slow, dramatic pan around the room. “Here’s the room tour,” you said with a laugh, showing off the wall decorations and your modest setup.

The comments exploded with praise:

StarGazer88 : The room looks fantastic! Love the vibe!

YourMom69 : It's so cute! You’ve done a great job!

Spiceman420 : Looks pretty barren, Princess.

The last comment caught your eye. You hesitated, then decided to address it directly. “Oh, I actually just moved in and this place was bigger than I expected,” you fibbed with a smile, trying to keep the tone light and engaging.

More questions and compliments came in, many of them asking where you were from and remarking on how sweet you seemed despite your self proclaimed bratty persona. “We’ll see about that,” you joked, winking at the camera. “Thank you all so much for the support! I’m so grateful.”

You yawned prettily behind your hand, then blew a kiss to the camera. “Thanks for joining me tonight. I’m going to call it in. See you all soon!” 

After ending the stream, you took a refreshing shower to wash off the sweat and exhaustion. As you checked your phone, you saw a notification of a $5,000 check from Spiceman420, accompanied by a personal message: 

“For your new apartment, Princess.”

You stared at the screen, feeling a mix of disbelief and gratitude. The generous gesture was overwhelming, and you found yourself on the verge of tears once more. You quickly sent a photo of your hands forming a heart symbol, adding a simple “Thank you so much” in your message.

The read receipt confirmed that Spiceman420 had seen your reply, but there was no immediate response. You sighed, feeling a bit of relief. The money would go a long way in securing your new place and starting fresh.

With a hopeful heart, you settled into your new routine, feeling a bit more secure in your journey forward. The night had been a whirlwind, but the unexpected support and the small victories kept you moving forward.

Bakugou sat slumped in a velvet armchair, his fingers scrolling lazily through his phone as the club buzzed with life around him. The low hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter from his fellow pros filled the air, but it all washed over him like background noise. He was here because he’d been dragged along—again. Designated driver, the role he always got stuck with because everyone else wanted to get plastered and he didn’t trust those dumbasses after what happened the first time.

He stifled a sigh, his eyes narrowing in disdain at the scene unfolding around him. A couple of bikini baristas were eyeing him from across the bar, giggling and whispering to each other, clearly trying to muster the courage to approach him. He didn’t even bother looking up, though; he knew exactly how it would go. One of them would sidle up to him, all flirty smiles and batting eyelashes, and then he’d spend the next few hours scrubbing glitter and body spray off his skin because she’d gotten too handsy. It was more trouble than it was worth.

And to top it all off, his favorite performer wasn’t even here tonight. That had been the one thing he’d looked forward to—seeing her. The first time he’d stumbled upon her had been a total accident, courtesy of Denki, who’d practically shoved him into that private room with an exasperated “Loosen up, dude!” And honestly? Bakugou had been pissed at first, but then she started dancing. It wasn’t even sexual as it was…. almost romantic? It felt personal, like she was performing for just him after a long day. Like it was only the both of them in that warm darkness. 

There was something about her. She never asked personal questions, never tried to flirt or tease like the others. She just danced, with an almost ethereal grace, and then she was gone, leaving him in peace. He didn’t know why, but he found that comforting. Maybe it was because she didn’t try to pry into his life, or maybe it was because he could just sit there, unwind, and not have to deal with anyone’s expectations.

Maybe it was because his mouth didn’t get in the way for once. 

He didn’t ask to see her up close, though. He knew that would break the illusion, the little bubble of escapism he’d found himself enjoying. Did he want a relationship? Sometimes the thought crossed his mind, but between his career, the press constantly hounding him, and his deep-seated distrust of people in general, he couldn’t be bothered. 

He was scrolling through his phone, bored out of his mind, when he overheard a couple of other pros talking about some app. Something about it caught his attention, just enough to make him curious. He quickly made up a bullshit username and started browsing. 

That’s when he found her. He paused, thumb hovering over the screen as he watched the live stream. It was her—it had to be. The dance routine was so familiar, almost muscle memory to him by now. His heartbeat quickened as he watched, and before he knew it, he’d hit the subscribe button. He hadn’t bought the premium subscription to see the pics or videos on her profile yet. No, he wanted to save that for later. 

Then he didn’t even think twice before tipping the $500, his fingers moving on instinct. Katuski wasn’t sure why he’d done it, but when she thanked him personally, her voice soft and warm, he felt something in his chest tighten. He forced himself to keep his expression neutral, refusing to let his face betray how flustered he felt.

Fuck, he was blushing. In public, no less. 

She showed off her room then, clearly just set up, and Bakugou couldn’t help but feel a pang of something like sympathy. So that’s why she wasn’t at the club—she was busy moving in. It made sense now. He found himself feeling oddly moved by her situation, enough to make him send her more money without really thinking about it.

He slumped further into the chair, his mind racing. What was he even doing? He was the number two pro hero in Japan. He’d achieved everything he’d ever wanted, and yet here he was, sitting in a strip club, feeling lost and bored out of his mind. He had everything he could ever want, and yet... now what? 

Bakugou’s gaze flicked back to his phone. The notification from her stream still lingered on the screen, a reminder of the strange connection he formed in his mind. Maybe that was the answer he’d been searching for—something new, something different. Something that wasn’t tied to being a hero. 

He didn’t know what the hell he was doing, but for once, he didn’t mind not having all the answers. He’d just see where this path took him.

And then he saw your message.

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Taglist: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, the-dumpster-fire-of-life, If you wanna be added lemme know!

That was the first chapter! So far there are 9 posted on my ao3 account. Chapter 1 is here

Chapter 3 is here

I own none of the images or art!!!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a Farmer Bakugou x Gardener Reader here in the master list. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

[daydream-cement]

Yes, Mistress… (NSFW)

Larissa Weems x Reader

Not often do I write dominant Larissa… but when I do… holy shit.

Authors Note: Thank you sweet little baby @alexusonfire for your help with this <3 I am still under the belief that Larissa is a little sub but this was fun to write.

TW: derogation, restraints, dom!larissa, praise, toys, face sitting, and body worship

Hands. It felt like there were hands everywhere. Everything was far too overwhelming, but you were no longer in control. All you could do is take what you were given. 

It was late afternoon when Larissa texted you: New outfit for you in my top drawer. I expect it to be on when I arrive home. 

Immediately you felt that familiar ache in your abdomen. You were going to be a needy mess by the time she walked in the front door. You wasted no time in texting Larissa back: Yes, mistress…

Your homework was left scattered about the living room, knowing it would be more important to be dressed for the headmistress if she were to come home early. Making your way upstairs, you ducked into the headmistress’s bedroom, tossing your phone on the bed before searching her top drawer for your new lingerie. A thin white box rested at the top of Larissa’s underwear drawer. 

Your eyes found your name scrawled across the top of a small card. Flipping the card over, you examined the note the headmistress had left you: 

baby,

I expect you to be dressed and in that bed waiting for me, darling. 

-larissa

Leaving the card discarded on the dresser, you throw open the box and reveal the baby pink lingerie Larissa had purchased for you. While you had many sets of lingerie from the shapeshifter, this one was entirely unique in its lacy hearts decorating the teddy bodysuit. It even included garters and a pair of underwear that you quickly noticed were missing the crotch.

Glancing to the clock, you noticed you had just over 15 minutes before the blonde arrived home. You dressed rapidly, struggling with the way the front of the bodice crisscrossed. 

You were always happy to dress up for the headmistress, but something about wearing lingerie made you extremely bashful. Sprawling out in Larissa’s bed, you recline into the pillows and take a deep breath as you try to relax. While you weren’t exactly sure of what the headmistress had planned, you were sure it would involve you submitting to her power.

You close your eyes and try to picture all of the filthy things Larissa had done to you in the past. Perhaps she would use the rabbit on you until you could barely speak or maybe her hand would be planted around your neck as she forced every inch of her biggest strap into your cunt.

“Oh… Look at my pretty little baby.” 

The shapeshifter’s voice drew your eyes open and you sucked in a breath at the sight of her body. She must have begun undressing when she entered the home. Her blouse was almost completely unbuttoned, revealing her breasts contained within pretty black lace bra. You were mesmerized as her hands pulled her blouse loose where it had been tucked into her tight skirt.

“Rissa…”

Larissa wasn’t looking to interrupt your admiration, so she wordlessly walked towards you, allowing pieces of clothing to follow in her wake. First her blouse fell to the floor, followed by her skirt. Your mouth watered at the way the skirt hitched around her hips, knowing it was her curves that allowed everything to cling perfectly in all the right places. 

She paused at the bedside, leaning across the cushioning of the mattress and holding her chin in her hand. “Let’s get these legs spread open, hm? Get your hands all tied up? We can’t have you touching yourself without my say so…”

“Mmm…” Your whimper was uncontrollable, assuming your face would end up buried in the mattress while she cuffed your hands and legs to the spreader bar. You could physically feel the wetness growing between your legs at the mention of being tied up. 

“Use your manners…” Larissa whispered, crawling onto the bed and over your body. Her face tucked itself in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply before feeling entirely overwhelmed by having you near. She slumped back on the bed next to you, needy hands dragged you on top of herself.

With a hand on the back of your neck, she roughly pulled your face to hers. Larissa’s lips captured yours in a hungry kiss and you felt her growl as her hands wandered over your body, squeezing your thighs, sides, and breasts with desperate aggression. 

“Do you want it, baby? If you want it, then you have to tell me…” Larissa parted the kiss and grabbed your face harshly, squeezing your cheeks with a dark look in her eyes that made your breath hitch. 

At first, all you could do was whimper and roll your hips down against the headmistress. This only resulted in a swift and stern verbal punishment from the dominant blone, her grip on your cheeks tightening. “Did you forget to speak already? Stupid little slut… I haven’t even begun punishing that pussy and you can’t even think straight, hm?”

“Sorry…”

The headmistress released your face with a light shove and brought both of her hands down on your thighs, giving them a gentle rub and squeeze. “Sorry, what?” 

“Sorry, mistress.”

“That’s a good girl.” The headmistress cooed, the gentle movements of her hands along your thighs coming dangerously close to your center. She would graze her index fingers along your entrance before sweeping them downwards once again. 

The blonde was relishing in the feeling of your hips on hers, especially the feeling of your dampening cunt on her skin. She enjoyed the sensation so much that she began guiding your hips to grind against her abdomen. “I have been thinking about playing with this sweet pussy all day…”

“I missed you. I want- I want you to play with me…”

The shapeshifter’s guidance of your hips paused and tightened her grip on your flesh. From the glint in her eye, you knew you had misspoke. “Oh? You want me to play with you? Is that what you want?”

You realize your mistake. You had made a demand rather than asking Larissa to play with you. 

“Please. Please play with me.”

The smirk that played on Larissa’s lips was dangerous. It was a look you knew far too well. She would be incredibly unforgiving as she pushed you through orgasm after orgasm. “When you ask so nicely, how can I say no?” 

The blonde returned you back to your position against the pillows and slid off the bed in search of restraints and a vibrator. 

When the headmistress emerged from her closet, in one hand she was carrying black leather loops attached by a longer band, and the other held her favorite pink wand vibrator. “Are you ready for me, baby? I could feel how wet you were getting when you sat on me.”

“Mhmm, yes. I’m ready…”

The shapeshifter crawled back onto the bed, beginning to slip one of your legs through the loops as she spoke so gently, “Do you like these panties, honey? I thought they would be so nice when mommy wants to use you like the little free use fucktoy you are.”

“Thank you for the new clothes. I l-like them very much…”

The headmistress positioned the second loop around your other thigh and tugged on the band connecting them. When used correctly, the band would be placed behind your neck and two loops around your thighs would spread your legs wide open. “Such good manners. I am so proud of you… my little slut.” 

She offered you the band so she could position it over your head and you showed a moment’s hesitation, causing her demeanor to sour. Before she could say a word, you tried to make up for your lack of enthusiasm by begging, “Please... Please touch me. I’ll be good I promise.”

“You think you would be more grateful for the love and attention I give you, darling. I spend my days thinking of you and all the things I want to do to you.”

She pushed the band up over your head, sweeping you hair away from your neck so as to not let the stretch of the band yank at your hair. The shapeshifter did not inquire deeper as to your comfort, rather she gave the back of your thighs a push, encouraging you to have them as widely spread as possible.

“Oh, just look at you…” The headmistress’s fingers glided over your damp and swollen sex. 

It all seemed too gentle for a moment. The pads of her fingers found your clit and circled it softly, humming to herself in enjoyment. You allowed yourself to close your eyes, enjoying the tender loving the headmistress was providing you. 

The relaxation ended when you felt a firm swat to your pussy, followed by a second, and a third. 

The spanking continued and you could feel her getting drunk on the power she had over you, “Who does this belong to? Tell me darling. Who owns this pretty little cunt?” 

You suck in a breath and nearly choke out your reply. “You do…You do...”

How could this feel already so overwhelming when she hadn’t even drawn you to orgasm yet? 

“You wanna make me proud, baby?”

“Yes…”

“Do you really, honey?” The headmistress’s touch turned gentle once more and she dipped her index and middle finger into your slit while her thumb circled your clit. 

The differing sensations were almost too much to handle and you knew all too well this was just the beginning. Your eyes squeezed shut and your chin turned towards the ceiling as you gasped, “Ahh, yes. Yes- Yes, please. I wanna make you proud so badly…”

“No cumming without my permission. Okay, darling? Promise me.

The shapeu used some of the slickness from your heat against your clit and you felt yourself going lightheaded from the pleasure. You felt willing to agree to anything to have her keep going. “Hhg… yes… yes. Okay. I promise. I promise.”

The only sound you heard in response was the vibrator turning on. The headmistress’s fingers left your cunt and the overwhelming stimulation of the vibrator took their place. 

The blonde gave you a few seconds to adjust to the new sensation before starting to gently move it up and down your cunt. She was looking to tease you and make you fall apart at the seams, and who were you to deny such a beautiful woman her desires?

Every second you felt yourself coming closer to orgasm the vibrator moved away from your clit, teasing elsewhere. The aching desire that had built in your lower abdomen had your mind going numb - all you wanted was to be fucked senseless. You were far too invested in the headmistress’s teasing to beg for the strap, however.

Your pussy was red and swollen from the spankings and your own intense desire. Larissa was smiling to herself as her fingers ghosted over your cunt, delighted with her handiwork. When she retracted her hand, she moved the vibrator back across your pussy, focusing on the clit just long enough to cause you to gasp before moving it away again.

You had no clue how much time had passed, but your whole body ached from the position you were forced into by the leg restraints. 

As you were pushed closer to the edge of orgasm, your hands absentmindedly trailed downward, seeking to control the vibrator against your clit. Each time you did, the headmistress warned you to ‘keep your hands to yourself.” You felt as though you couldn’t form a coherent thought due to your need to cum. 

Larissa kept going and going and going. You would be edged to the point of pain and tears if you didn’t ask to cum, but you were holding out. You wanted to prove to the headmistress that you could take her punishments without complaint or yielding. A silly thing to want considering how often Larissa was able to have her way with you in the past after you yielded without hesitation.

Your legs were beginning to close involuntarily from the overstimulation, earning a scold from the shapeshifter, “Tsk, tsk, tsk. We can’t have that. I know you are happy to have these legs open for me, so why don’t you act like it.”

With tears building in your eyes, you pry open your legs, planting a hand on either of your knees to keep them open. There was an orgasm building that you could no longer deny to yourself or the headmistress, and you would rather not cum without permission.

“Pl-Pl-ease. I wann-wanna cum. Pleasepleaseplease…”

“Oh? You wanna cum, baby? You wanna cum for me? Be a good little girl and cum all over my fingers, okay?” At her final suggestion, you felt her fingers slide into you and she began to fuck you as the vibrator pressed directly to your clit. 

You stopped barring yourself from orgasm and the sensation came suddenly and harshly, causing your entire body to writhe and shake. The orgasm felt long and drawn out, but Larissa still wasn’t stopping… After all, that’s what a safeword is for.

The headmistress closed her eyes when she felt the walls of your cunt clench around your fingers, awaiting the sticky slickness that would soon coat her fingers. She seemed to press the vibrator firmer to your clit, wanting to watch you beg her for reprieve.

“Ahh.” You twisted and turned away from the vibrator, but you still hadn’t used the safeword. She continued with both of her movements, even firmer this time to prevent you from avoiding the stimulation. 

“Fuck, I love this pussy. I love you my sweet darling.” Larissa cooed, her pupils dilated as she watched you unraveling before her. 

That was all you needed for another orgasm to wrack your body, only this one felt different. It was far more overwhelming and immediately after, you wondered if you had wet the bed from the wetness Larissa had caused. Regardless of how proud the headmistress was of herself of getting you to squirt, she kept going, fucking you deeper as the flick of her thumb increased the vibrator speed.

That’s when it became all too much. An unexpected third orgasm immediately followed the second. You were lightheaded with tears beginning to stream down your face and you immediately knew you wouldn’t be able to handle any more.

Pushing your hands between your legs, you tried to push away the vibeator, but Larissa scolded you once more, “Use your words and keep your hands to yourself.”

“Please, I- Artic. Artic.” You pleaded, using the safeword without any further thought and knowing full well Larissa would stop in her tracks once she heard it.

The blonde indeed stopped immediately and swiftly excited her dominant role in exchange of one that was gentle and soft. “Are you okay, darling? Was it too much? Did I go too hard?” Her hands worked diligently to free you of the restraints and pull you to her once you were free. 

By the way the headmistress pulled you against your chest, the best response you could give was a shake of your head. Larissa’s grip around you was intense, but you couldn’t protest against the homey feeling of your cheek against her breast and her hands rubbing circles into your back. 

“Mm… you took it so good baby. You made me so proud.”

“I love you..”

“I love you too, darling.” The headmistress spoke in a low register as she pushed her face into your hair. There was a deep breath and a long sigh of loving obsession, “Now… there is something I need you to do for me.”

You moved your face from its pleasant place between her breasts to look up at her, inquiring further with your eyes.

“Lay on your back. It’s my turn to get off.” The shapeshifter’s voice was thick with desire as her hand pushed against your sternum. 

You lay back against the bed, never one to refuse an opportunity to pleasure the blonde. She sat up next to you and allowed her eyes to sweep over your body as she began removing her bra. “You’re so pretty, baby. I’m so ready to sit on that pretty face.”

Your mouth watered at the notion. Tentatively you reached out to stroke the soft flesh of Larissa’s thigh, but you received no disciplinary response, rather she looked quite endeared by your loving touch. The blonde noticed your hungry gaze and smiled, offering you a different way to please her, “Or would you rather worship my body, darling?” Larissa toyed with her breasts as she asked her question, knowing you had no way of resisting.

Your nod was frantic and you immediately rolled onto your stomach and crawled to where the headmistress sat on her knees. You hadn’t asked for permission, but you felt Larissa’s dominant resolve slipping as her own cravings for your attention grew. As you moved closer, she leaned back on the king mattress and spread her legs out before her, welcoming you to pleasure her how you saw fit.

Eye level was her pretty tummy and thighs, and you felt that place would be the perfect starting point. When you arrived at a lips distance from her tanned thighs, you recognized the familiar lighting strike patterns of her stretch marks. Decades of shapeshifting left their toll, and you couldn’t be more in love with the way the stretch marks littered her skin. Larissa always felt defensive about you staring and paying attention to them, but you chose to trace them with your tongue anyway. 

This time she restrained herself from pushing your head away. Instead she buried her hand in your hair and tilted her head back towards the ceiling, allowing herself to enjoy your gentle worship. Larissa eventually laid back on the bed and closed her eyes, a gentle hum at the back of her throat. 

You took your time with every inch of skin, slowly working your way up to her hips and then to her stomach. Your hands trailed behind lovingly squeezing palmfuls of Larissa’s thighs, eventually looping up to her underwear to drag them down her legs. 

The shapeshifter whimpered when your hand’s shifted to grip her hips, earning an upward glance from you. That’s when you became entranced by her beautiful breasts and you knew you needed a taste - after all, it had been hours since you touched them last.

Your hands grasped at her tits before your mouth found them. The headmistress gasped at the suddenness of the groping and once you had your mouth on one nipple, the aggressiveness of your actions slowed. 

You tried your best to pay equal attention to both nipples while gently biting and sucking at the sides and underneath of her breasts (knowing full well the headmistress only wanted marks where they couldn’t be seen). When her boobs weren’t in your mouth, you pinched and squeezed at her nipples.

You could tell your ministrations were working her up when her hips adjusted themselves so her legs could curl around yours. Her body quickly shifted you to the side and she began rutting against your hip. From the sensation of drooling all over her tits and her grinding against your side, you were worried you may cum a fourth time. 

“I.. Uh- I need- I need you to touch me. I need you to make me cum.”

The notion of the shapeshifter begging for you to touch her drove you mad. You were completely ID driven as you stopped drooling over her breasts to lay on your back, your hands pulling and grabbing on the headmistress’s arms and thighs as a way of guiding her to sit on your face. “Please, I want to taste you. Please let me taste you.”

Before the headmistress straddled your face, she took her time and hovered her face above yours and grabbing you by the chin. She held you still and lowered her lips near yours. Instead of kissing you, Larissa’s tongue protruded from her mouth and licked across your lips before finally placing a sloppy kiss to your lips. Your head was still spinning from the kiss when her lips finally left yours and you felt the familiar warmth of her thighs on either side of your face. 

There was no hesitation in your arms looping around her thighs, drawing her cunt against your mouth. You had to audibly moan against her clit when you felt her wetness spreading around your mouth and down your chin.

The headmistress was in desperate need of the friction of your tongue against her clit. She quickly began grinding her hips down against your mouth. The shift of her hips became so frantic that she had to lean forward and brace herself on the bed with her hands. 

She was only focused on getting off as the movement of her hips almost made it hard to breathe at times. Regardless if you may be punished, you give her thighs a squeeze, pulling her down a little harder to prevent her from moving. Larissa growled in frustration, pausing her movements and offering up more control to you. 

You quickly became drunk off her pussy, losing yourself in eating her out. 

The shapeshifter’s desperate moans were music to your ears as was the limitless praise she offered. She spoke so rapidly - it was almost as if she was trying to state as many sweet and possessive things she could before she came, “Oh, fuck! You are my little angel. I love you. Fuck, I love you. You are my sweet little slut aren’t you. You are mine. Ahhh, all mine.”

The rocking of the headmistress’s hips against your face began again. Now she worked them in a circular motion, her orgasm within reach. 

Her hands worked their way into your hair and you allowed your hands to begin roaming about her body, allowing her to grind her hips against your face at any speed she desired. The grinding of the headmistress’s hips only sped up for a few seconds when she was suddenly rocked by an orgasm that drew a loud cry from the blonde. 

She slid off you, and fell to your side, needing a moment to catch her breath. 

“I love you, darling...” Through all of her elation, the headmistress placed a hand on your cheek, tilting your face up so your eyes could meet hers, “Time for you to shower while I make you dinner. I need you to be very well rested when I have you cockwarm that new toy all day tomorrow.”

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