#Water Dispensers collection

[cacaitos]

looking back theres no way in hell i wouldve been properly hydrated in all of my school years youre telling me were spending 8 hours in that fucking heat w PE class running and walking here and there all day with only ONE water bottle worth of water in the body. 2 or 3 at most???

[andersonfilms]

#001. THE FORBIDDEN FRUIT.

❝ ABBY!ANDERSON SERIES ❞

warnings. eighteen+, nsfw content: lowkey loser!reader, voyerisum, dub-con, dildo penetration (abby!r), minors hop off my shit, friends to lovers (eventually), nerdy!abby.

....AND THEY WERE ROOMATES, she’s always been just abby to you. best friends and thick as thieves. sweet as can be, breathing shy naivety with ever inhale of oxygen — a walking angel on earth. a gentle remainder of what’s good but looks can be so convincing? can’t they?

you aren’t supposed to be home, but it’s a slow night of bartending, so you’re sent early. pushing yourself into the front door despite your aching muscles, dispensing your keys in the small bowl, before grabbing yourself a cold glass of water. chugging it from the chilled glass, the cool liquid sending a sensation down your throat.

something feels off but you ignore it. 

funneling into your room, discarding your pants along with your tank left only in your undergarments. the tension has been building in your shoulders all night. the overwhelming stress of not making enough tips to cover your rent, classes in the morning, as well as the kink in your neck. you need to relieve yourself from all of it. a feather filled duvet has never looked so inviting, parallel with the vibrator tucked away into your night stand. 

bang! bang! bang! 

what the hell? 

taking a final sip from your water, you venture into the living room grabbing the bat next to your bedroom door. ready to swing, you’re met with silence in the still empty living room. odd. 

bat in your stronghold, your sock clad feet patter up the stairs into your roommate’s area of the apartment when you hear moans. soft, whimpering, moans. was she? no. it’s abby for fucksake. she’s too anxious to talk about sex with others much less fuck with her clit while you’re home. 

but you’re not supposed to be home and you’re intrigued. you shouldn’t be but you are. 

against the hardwood floors, your feet are quiet as you bring yourself closer to her room. her moans are louder, you try to ignore the throbbing of your clit, thighs nudging together as abby sounds like an angel — solely sent for your pleasure. 

the cream door is cracked open halfway and it’s then when you see her. for the first time, it’s all of her. the fucking bat nearly drops to the floor, but you catch it and cradle it to your chest as you take the scene in. 

entranced is the only way to describe it. she had lights, her phone propped up with an additional camera while they filmed the show she so clearly was putting it on. blonde hair cascades down her freckled back, completely bare ass on full display, unknowingly for your greedy eyes. 

you need to look away. she’s your best friend. stop. you’re being a fucking creep but then she’s bouncing on the dildo. 

fucking hell. 

your friend, the one you tease endlessly, the shy nerdy girl who can barely say two words when a pretty girl tries to speak with her is fucking herself on a baby blue dildo and filming it. for the first time, you’re seeing abby differently. it almost pains you. 

exquisite, golden hair shines in the moonlight as her delicious hips roll. she finds a rhythm that’s comfortable letting out a collection of whines and moans. the sound of her slick combined with the headboard hitting the wall over and over due to the power of her weight sends you into a frenzy. you’re thighs have never rubbed together so harshly, trying to satiate a need. if you could, you’d moan for her but the fear of being caught strikes you down but it’s festering within you. 

it’s growing. god, it’s for her only. 

you’re paralyzed with arousal but you need to leave. right fucking now before you cum. pathetically, you think you can just from watching her. abby’s soft voice practically nails your soft palms to the walls, crucifying you with every unspeakable desire. pink lips let them fly, gratifying you and somehow breaking the impenetrable wall between the two of you. 

“cock is so big, s’hard to take all of it.” abby whimpers, arching her back while her palms support her weight as she splits her pussy on the dildo. “yeah, you like that? mmm, love when my pussy swallows you whole, huh?” 

she lays her full cheeks on the mattress, pretty face pushed against the sheets as abby gives her audience a better view. she sounds goddamn breathtaking going nice and slow, her lower lips spreading so beautifully. this deserves to be painted and displayed in art galleries. 

the way she moves, golden strands moving as if she’s controlling every movement. abby anderson is fucking art. nowhere to be found is the shy, nose stuffed in her books, abby. this version of her is so different it’s causing you to see stars. 

moving her hips you didn’t even know was possible. you can’t even process fit her body actually is, the one she hides away. suffocated by thick cable knit sweaters, loose button downs concealing her burling biceps, and the chinos she wears on a daily basis. all of it is more than you can stomach. 

“like looking at my pussy, baby?” abby giggles. fucking giggles. “splitting my pussy open, feel you s’deep, almost in my stomach. yeah?” 

the urge to slip your fingers inside your pussy and touch yourself while she fucks herself is right there but you can seem to do it. settling for pressed thighs and tight grip on bat while you breath heavily. unable to catch on breath. 

“why don’t i spread it for you? give you a better view. after all, im such a sweetheart.” with one free hand, she pulls at the fat of her ass and you nearly choke on the air around you. her puckered hole, the sweet sin of her cunt staring right at you while you salivate. it pools to the floor along with your dignity. 

she leaves the shot there for a moment, letting her viewers tune in to take all of her in before she lets go. the fat of her ass bounces, increasing her speed as she slams over herself on the cock. the audacity of you to never think of her like this because fuck, this is everything. 

you want to be the one fucking her. your fingers pulling at her golden strands, pretty face smudged against the mattress as you take her from behind. a curious mind wonders what she would say to you, how good she would be taking it from behind. molding her strong body into whatever you fucking want. would she let you? 

abby’s voice breaks through the stance she has you under, permitting you of daydreaming any longer. instead, your eyes focus on the way she fucks herself. 

“need to stuff my pussy full, don’t you? s’all you can think about, yeah…i know. making a pretty girl like me cum is your fucking dream.” her back arcs, giving them a better view of her. another piece for everyone to enjoy, you included. 

her voice breaks, irrevocably but abby tries again. “t-this is what you wanted all this time? for me to be your whore? show you how much of a slut i can be?” you feel it in your stomach. the light pressure building as you clench your pussy around nothing, your thighs rubbing together continuously. if she cums, fuck, you won’t be able to control yourself. 

“i’ll do whatever you want. it’s all for you.” you’re fucking lost. abby picks up the pace, the way her hips stutter indicates she’s so close. without even touching yourself, you are too. “no one else can make me feel like this, i—”a low groan leaves her lips, the echoes of her slick invade your senses. jesus christ, you would do anything to taste her. 

abby doesn’t say much until she’s reaching her peak. just loud moans, intoxicating whimpers, and delicious sound of her cunt being fucked again, and again, and again. then you take note of her shakes, beautiful thighs trembling as they fail under the undeniable pleasure coursing through her veins. 

“s’close, gonna cum. fuckfuckfuck!” you see her white, hot cum soak the dildo, white substance spilling over sun-kissed skin, staining the sheets. it’s fucking everywhere. abby doesn’t stop. as if she knows you’re watching and wants to torture you. 

“please come for me baby? mommy needs your cum. gonna give it to me, yeah? i’m your sweet girl after all.” just like that, you lose it. white coated cum covers your boxers, staining you through. you feel every nerve in your body coated in her, begging to be trenched in her touch. 

“yeah? that’s it. s’all mine. just like you, baby. my fucking pussy.” your entire body twitches, clit throbbing at her words. only thing you hear is her heavy breaths slowing down as abby slowly calms herself. 

even when she’s shaking, trembling, she fucks herself through it. you can’t look away. not when she’s made you cum like that. no one’s ever made you cum with voice alone. abby’s soothing tone scratches the surface of the unbridled desire bumbling out of you. now, you’ll be sick until you can have her. is it pathetic? maybe. but your hands are greedy, aching to touch every inch of her body, make her feel whatever she wants. 

you make yourself scarce. the stakes of getting caught too high. shame. the overwhelming feeling almost settles instantly but you find it withering the more you think about the tsunami wave of the orgasm she unknowingly gifted you. 

with every passing moment, each turn in your sleep, you feel guilty for watching for as long as you did. you can’t sleep. always thinking of her. every waking moment is always about her. you’ll never be able to see abby the same. maybe it’ll be your demise or your saving grace. for now, all you can do is welcome the all consuming passion that is her. your dorky best friend and roommate who certainly does know how to fuck.

[n1et]

Overall I've found that 3 to 5 shulker boxes are good enough to clear out a trail ruin, which is slightly endgame but I like that the loot table fits in a reasonable space.

Tho to be honest I don't know if the inventory problems are that big of an issue in the trail ruins directly, I think that finding the structure should be a bit of an ordeal and it's ideal to set up at least a small camp around it, roleplay it a bit, excavate it from the top down and expose all the rooms.

What I do despise about 1.20 are the carved bookcases

For years all comparators did was read how full something is, but now mojang decided to add an inane exception where a comparator simply reds the last interacted slot of a bookshelf and outputs that as signal strength even when that slot was interacted with by a hopper thus making what should be a relatively simple contraption that just empties all the books from a shelf once it's been filled nearly impossible without jankery.

They could have followed or even expanded on the precedent of the lecturn which emits a pulse each time you flick a page, they could have simply made the bookshelf emit a pulse of respective signal strength depending on which slot you pulled from, but no. They just really wanted to have a fun block that you can use to make cliche secret door with, but in affect made a block that is useless for every purpose aside from that one. I am frankly tiered of those deadend additions that fail to integrate into the larger game's systems, at this point the game is just getting bloated for the sake of endless content, that doesn't need to be there. Spyglasses are virtually useless with how intrusive the overlay is, I think the only reason they exist is to justify geodes, which in turn exist just to look pretty.

And I really don't mind adding more types of rock, just make it actually interact with the rest of the game, diorite granite and andesite are kinda annoying, but at least you can craft them into eachother in limited capacity. Smooth bassalt is nice because while it does only generate in geodes you can smelt normal bassalt into it, calcite on the other hand? There is no reason for it to be so rare. It is unrenewable and only comes from geodes in smaller quantities, or if you want it in larger quantity, from a portion of a specific mutation of a mountain biome that is so rare I did not it know it existed before specifically checking the wiki for sources of calcite. I have to this day never seen it, I have not even seen it on a biome map.

I think that the rate mojang is putting out updates is unsustainable and the updates themselves are unpolished and confusingly both cater to the casual audience and make the game more annoying to play in certain aspects.

The Qol and engine rewrites are spectacular, and I don't mind the new wood sets and variety, but please just take a 2 or 3 year gap in updates and actually playtest things properly instead of having a 2 week release candidate window.

Minecraft 1.20 thoughts:

The highlight is, of course, the cherry blossom grove biome and cherry trees. The cherry wood just looks SO GOOD with everything. I've made so many builds incorporating it already and it's so easy to work into a color scheme. Cherry wood. Hhhhhnnnnghh. Such a delicious shade of pink. I want to eat it.

Also really excited about the bamboo wood set, it looks amazing and adds a lot of functionality to bamboo.

Feeling pretty positively about the armor trims, though I wish there were more where the decorative material was more dominant in the color scheme.

Trail ruins and archaeology: Mixed feelings. I think archaeology is a fun mechanic, I like exploring the trail ruins, but they really, really turn inventory management into an absolute nightmare.

There are many different varieties of pottery sherds, I think at least 20. Sherds of different types do not stack. There are 4 armor trims that can be dropped by suspicious gravel in trail ruins. Trims of different types do not stack. The trail ruin structures themselves include many different varieties of terracotta and glazed terracotta, (at least 6 different colors of each) and—you guessed it!—each type stacks separately.

Additionally, suspicious gravel in trail ruins may drop any of several colors of candle (I have found red, purple, green, brown, and blue candles) and any of several colors of glass pane. The process of digging the ruin out will fill your inventory with at least 6 stacks of gravel as well as a lot of dirt, coarse dirt, cobblestone, and flint.

To top it all off, unless you want to enchant your brush with Unbreaking, you will need to carry multiple brushes because the brush breaks before the ruin is fully cleared.

Even with multiple shulker boxes clearing a ruin fully in one trip is impossible. What were the devs even thinking??? Are we expected to throw away the candles and other "junk" drops and ignore the glazed terracotta, mud bricks, and other tedious-to-obtain blocks in the structure itself?

This update shares with 1.19 the bizarre attribute of the devs supposedly being very focused on the player experience, while seemingly not noticing key parts of the player experience. The new mechanics and features in both have some incredibly fun and engaging elements to them but also some glaring problems.

I'm pretty much just indifferent to the clay pots? They would be more fun if they incorporated some basic colored patterns and/or actually could be used for something.

Changes to sign editing, and hanging signs are both fantastic.

The "Netherite Upgrade" is shit and I'm not sorry to say it.

Like...netherite is already so incredibly tedious and difficult to obtain that it's almost not worth bothering with. 4 ancient debris is needed to craft a single netherite ingot. You need 16 ancient debris to upgrade a full diamond armor set to netherite, and 8 more if you want to upgrade a sword and one pickaxe. If you don't have Mending on all of them, basically go fuck yourself, because from that point you will need multiple netherite ingots to repair a piece of equipment in the same way you would need multiple diamonds to repair diamond equipment. All of this for a set of equipment that will be fucking gone if you die and can't recover it.

And yet the devs have decided to??? fucking...add a generic, painfully uncharismatic new item to provide another barrier to obtaining netherite gear? because it's too easy or something???

I haven't broken into the other new additions very much, but I will try to obtain a sniffer egg soon...

[viking-raider]

Moon Crazed *Mature*

Summary: Henry seems especially crazed on his birthday, and you don't understand why, until you check the calendar again.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warning: M - Fluff, Angst, Banter, Pet Names, Language, Gray Hair Appreciation, Cuddles, Supportive Spouse SMUT - Birthday Sex, Oral (F receiving), Fingering (F Receiving), Unprotected Sex (Wrap it!), Possible Voyeurism, Sneak Attacks, Doggy Style, Hickeys, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex, Super light Anal, Rutting, Hinted Breeding Kink, Light Spanking, Body Fluids, Biting

Inspiration: Henry's 40th Birthday being on a literal Full Moon!

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLISTand turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy! @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY

You hummed softly, standing at the refrigerator as you filled your water bottle with ice from the dispenser. Unaware of the predator stalking up behind you. Until strong hands grabbed a hold of your hips, causing you to let out a startled scream and drop your bottle, the ice chips rattling in the black plastic as it struck the hardwood floor.

“Henry!” You yelped as he spun you around to face him, but smiled, nonetheless. “What are-” You started, but he captured your lips in a hungry, heated kiss, that had you breathless before you could finish your question.

There were black spots in your eyes, when the kiss finally broke and you were dizzy, only vaguely aware of a coolness from your waist down, then Henry's hands were back on your hips and he was lifting you onto the island in the middle of the kitchen. You hissed, feeling the cold butcher block on your bare skin, Henry having stripped you of your pants and underwear.

“Whoa, Cavill!” You huffed, pressing your knees together and planting your palms to his collarbone. “The fuck has you so crazed?” You asked, seeing how bright, clear and wild his blue eyes were, his pupils blown out from his mounting arousal.

“This.” He purred, his voice rumbling, as his fingers swiped at your exposed folds.

“Oh, holy Jesus!” You gasped, off guard, wiggling on the counter. “Right, Okay.” You panted, softly. “Birthday boy is in a mood.”

“Birthday boy is hungry.” He growled, dropping to his knees and yanking you to the edge of the island, your legs draped over his broad shoulders, while his mouth showed no mercy at attacking your womanhood.

Your hands flew to his head, fingers tangling in his curls. “What is it? A full moon!” You cried out, eyes crossing and rolling back, feeling Henry's tongue swirl against your swelling clit. “Hen-Ry.” You moaned, hands slipping from his hair as you fell back across the counter, the muscles of your thighs twitching under his onslaught.

“Such nice red velvet.” He cooed, his breath hot against your wet folds, as he licked your icing off his lips.

“You're crazy.” You wheezed back, your head lulling side to side, while you gazed up at the vaulted ceiling.

Smirking, Henry pressed his lips to your humming pearl, drawing a breathy moan from deep in your throat, with the gentle suckles that only grew with intensity. His tongue flicking out to tease, torture and collect your sweet nectar, but never yet permitting the mounting rapture that balanced on a knife's edge. You tried rolling your hips against his mouth, antsy to feel that sweet relief at the mercy of his skilled mouth. But Henry's hands gripped them, pinning you to the counter with a near bruising strength.

“It's my birthday.” Henry huffed between your thighs, glaring up the length of your heaving body, feeling the throb of his clothed girth at the sight of the mounds of your breasts, nipples hard through the fabric of your shirt. “Behave.” He growled, slipping a hand into your shirt to pinch and tease one of your peaks, while his mouth left a dark purple mark on the inside of your trembling thigh.

You shivered at the contact, whimpering, but laid as still as you could. Henry chuckled, loving the madness he was driving you into. He laid an open mouth kiss to your pearl and took a deep breath, filling his senses with your heady scent, that only seemed to drag him deeper into his own psychosis. You hiccuped at the feel of his teeth nipping at your dripping petals, lifting your head and letting out a shocked huff at Henry, whose eyes only regarded you mischievously, not willing to stop and lift his head.

His tongue finally split you open, licking and snaking down your tunnel, chuckling at the hums and pants you were making at the attention. He removed his hand from your hip, his thumb easily finding your clit and applied just the right amount of pressure as his tongue found your spot.

Starting to hiccup, with surprise at the rushing of the orgasm that hit you, your back curving off the counter, before it caught in your throat, face twisting in ecstasy. “Henry!” You cried out, breaking through the surprise, “Oh god, Hen!” You mewled, falling limp as it wore off.

Henry stood up, a heavenly and satisfied look on his face. “Mmm.” He moaned, smirking at you. “You taste so damn good, baby girl.” He chuckled, wiping at the droplets on his lips and chin, before tugging down his sweatpants.

“Shit!” You cried out, nails clawing at the butcher block underneath you as Henry eased his weeping cock into you. “Warn a girl!” You barked, hooking your shaking legs around his thighs.

“That was your warning, babe.” Henry laughed, gripping one of your hips and planting his other hand on the counter, as leverage.

You looked up at Henry and saw a familiar glint in his blue eyes, but it seemed a bit more than usual. “Christ alive.” You sighed, gripping the wrist he had at your hip.

“You're all strapped in, honey?” He chuckled, rubbing your hip with his thumb.

“I know you, Cavill!” You answered, clenching around him.

Moaning, Henry bit his bottom lip and pushed his hips forward into you with as much strength as he could, rocking you further up the counter. With his pace set, Henry didn't relent, not even when your nails broke the skin of his wrist.

“Filling you up never gets old, babe.” Henry panted, recovering from his climax. “Unlike somethings.”

“The hell does that mean?” You wheezed, gulping thickly.

“Nothing.” He sighed, pulling you up and kissing you sweetly on the lips. “Just rambling. Come take a shower with me?” He asked, smiling at you.

“Of course.” You nodded, sliding off the island and following upstairs to the master bathroom.

Later that afternoon, you stood in the laundry room tossing things from a hamper into the washing machine, when you looked up and saw Henry's reflection in the window that was behind the machine.

“Hey there, handsome.” You cooed at him, leaning into the hamper to grab the last handful of dirty clothes. “Did you have a good workout?” You asked, tossing them in and closing the lid.

“Mmhm.” He replied, resting his shoulder against the door frame to watch you.

“Good.” You smiled, pushing up on your toes to reach the controls and started the machine, just as Henry pushed off the door towards you, trapping you against the vibrating appliance. “What—Oh, this again?” You purred, feeling his hand slip around you and into the band of your leggings and panties. “You are in a randy mood today, Puppy.” You said, in a sultry voice.

“Just today?” He husked back, gently rubbing your still, slightly, sore delicates.

You chuckled softly, unsure how to answer that or if it was rhetorical. “You always make me feel good, Henry.” You moaned, letting your head fall back against his shoulder. “Above other things.” You smirked, kissing the underside of his jaw.

“Mmm.” Henry moaned back at you, working his fingers a little more vigorously against your privates. “What other things?” He asked, pushing your shirt up and cupping one of your breasts in his paw.

“I think you're currently do-doing a goo-good job.” You gulped, pressing your back harder against his chiseled chest.

“Oh yeah?” He smirked, pressing his lips to the top of your head, as a finger crooked into your entrance, teasing. “You like when I finger you?”

“Like is an inadequate word.” You whimpered, toes curling against the tiles of the laundry room floor. “Love it. Get off on the mere thought of. Have a yearning for most hours of the day.” You confessed, bracing a hand on the edge of the washer to help keep yourself up.

Henry smiled into your hair and allowed you to give in, feeling your wet warmth wash over his hand. “I love pleasuring you, more than almost everything else.” He cooed, turning you around to cup your face in his sticky hand, kissing you deeply.

“More laundry.” You giggled, after breaking the kiss, taking off your leggings and soiled panties, opening the washer machine to toss them in, yelping as Henry's hand connected to your bum.

“If I had it my way, you'd only be naked at home.” He grinned, biting the corner of his lip at the mere thought of getting to see your naked body at all hours in the privacy of your home.

“Oh, of that I am sure, my love.” You snorted, nodding your head. “And the feeling is mutual.” You added, tugging on the front of his shirt.

“I can fix that.” Henry laughed, blue eyes glittering.

Laying on your bed, arms folded beneath you, exhausted from the events of the day, you were again unaware of Henry coming for you, until you heard the floor creak.

“Christ alive!” You spooked, looking at him, before busting out into a smile, finding he was stark naked. “What has gotten into you, Henry?” You asked, rolling onto your back to look at him. “Twice already today we've had shenanigans throughout the house.” You said, running your eyes along his godly body. “Not counting our regular morning meeting.”

“Is it so hard to believe I can't get enough of you.” Henry asked, cocking a brow in your direction.

“No, not in the slightest, husband.” You purred at him, feeling his waves of need coming off of him, even from the gap between you. “It's just strange. You haven't been this needy in quite a while.”

“I've been on a mission to correct that.” He confessed, closing that gap. “Get undressed.” He ordered you, standing at the edge of the bed.

Smirking at him, you pulled your shirt off over your head, breasts bouncing as you did, much to Henry's delight and increased arousal. But when it came to your shorts, thumbs hooking in the waistband of them and your panties, you pushed them down painfully slow, your eyes dead on Henry's. You watched his throat bob and his fingers flex, as he pulled out every ounce of willpower not to launch forwards and rip the article of clothing off of you, himself.

His willpower finally broke and he snatched your pants off the rest of the way, tossing them carelessly aside, then climbing into bed with you, rolling you back onto your belly.

“Oh, we're just being a ball of fun today!” You giggled, as he used his knees to push your legs apart, one thick arm wrapping around your waist and hoisted your hips and bum up, while rutting his hard cock against the valley of your cheeks, grunting in your ear.

“I'll show you fun.” He growled, biting the side of your neck, while grasping himself at the base.

You let out a breath, feeling his tip run down between your cheeks, making the space slick with glossy droplets. He paused to tease your special hole, causing you to gasp and clench in surprise, a rumble of a chuckle bubbling out of Henry as he carried on, rubbing your pleasantly weeping entrance.

“Do you like it when I play with you?” He rasped, pressing his forehead against your temple, his eyes dark, like a storm over an ocean. “When I fill you up.”

“Hm.” You hummed, pushing back against him, eager and impatient to feel him fill you again. “I love it.” You whispered, breathily. “It makes me feel good, Henry.”

Smirking, Henry slowly eased himself inside of you, wanting to feel every little bit as he did. A shiver ran down both your backs as the last inch of his manhood came to rest in your sensitive canal, flexing and molding around him. With quick snaps of his hips, Henry drove himself into you without giving away any ground.

You moaned, hands twisting up in the duvet beneath you as Henry rocked harder into you. Arching your back more, adjusting him and causing you to let out a sweet, almost deafening, cry. Henry grasped the underside of your jaw, pulling your head back to rest on his shoulder and closing his mouth against your throat, timing his sucks and bites with his thrusts.

Leaving behind yet another mark of his passion for you.

“Henry, please.” You moaned, brows creasing. “Touch me.” You gulped, licking your lips.

He moaned against your neck, removing his hand from your face to slip it beneath you, finding your swollen bud, drenched in your combined fluids. Henry was torturous at rubbing clit, but did nothing to rush the pace of his hips. You whined, kicking your feet a little bit and shifting your knees to try and get more leverage, but Henry used his own body to keep you in place.

“You devil.” You sighed at him, yanking your neck away from his mouth.

“Mmhm.” Henry hummed back, not missing a beat, but smirked at you devilishly, before pulling away from you, standing up on his knees to watch himself slide in and out of you. “What a beautiful sight this is.” He purred, rubbing his palm up and down your glistening back, squeezing your neck for a moment.

“Pity you can't see it yourself.”

“Feels amazing as is, big boy.” You answered, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Henry popped you on the ass, applying more pressure to your clit and increased his thrusts, rocking the headboard against the wall. You gripped the duvet for leverage and rocked in tune with him, feeling the hot build of your climax, soft whimpers leaving your parted lips and tears blurring your vision as it finally boiled over, surging around Henry's shaft, the hot pulse intensifying as his own orgasm mounted.

“Henry!” You cried, the sensation of him pumping searing ribbons of his seed into you just as maddening compared to your own.

Pulling out of you, Henry dropped to his side beside you, flushed, sweaty and panting. You rolled onto your side, unfazed by the massive wet spot on the blanket the two of you made, and looked at your husband, smirking. Reaching out for him and gently brushing the damp curls off his forehead, your eyes softening at the sight of the grays you saw in them. Especially at his temple. They drew a smile across your lips.

“What are you smiling about?” Henry asked lazily, cracking an eye at you.

You giggled at him, wiggling in closer. “Just noticing all the new grays you have.” You cooed, resting your head on his bicep and twisting the graying curl around the tip of your index finger, fondly, only to have Henry turn his head out of your grasp.

“Old man.” He huffed, a frustrated crease between his brows.

“Hardly!” You laughed, amused, pressing a kiss on his sternum. “Just because you turned forty today, doesn't make you an old man, Cavill.”

“I damn well feel like one.” Henry growled, fixing his blue eyes on you. “Never this winded after making love to you.”

You sucked your bottom lip in, biting down on it, as you regarded him with understanding and loving eyes. “Is this what everything's been about today?” You finally asked, cupping his bearded cheek. “You sneak attacking me everywhere in the house.” You smirked, your body tingling at just recalling them, but your smile faded seeing the look in his eyes and face.

“Do you think you can't--” You struggled for a moment, a lump in your throat.

“Satisfy you.” He finished for you. “Yes. I've been worried that hitting forty meant that I would lose the ability to keep satisfying you. Seeing the gray hairs in the morning, when I get up to shower, has only increased that anxiety.” He confessed, looking away from you.

“Henry.” You mewled, heartbroken at your husband's words. “You have never lacked there, or anywhere. Today is a fine example of that.” You tried to get him to understand. “We were intimate four times throughout the day, on top of the festivities for your birthday. You have nothing to be concerned about.”

Henry looked back up at you, a look of relief in his cerulean orbs. “You don't think I look silly with them?”

You huffed and clicked your tongue at him, rolling your eyes. “Henry Cavill, I've known and seen you with a great many looks over the last eight years, because of your occupation, and I've never known you to look silly.” You told him, honestly. “Even when you thought you would with the Kingstache.” You giggled, grinning at that memory.

“Lord, that was an identity crisis.” He huffed, shaking his head.

“But,” You looked him squarely in the eyes. “You with gray hair is rather dashing, in my opinion, and I can't wait to see a few more.”

“Oh, that's how it is!” He said, wrapping his arms around you and rolling onto his back, so you straddled his waist. “You like being married to this gray fox!” He laughed, pawing at your butt.

“What is this! A full moon!” You whooped, wiggling out of his grasp to grab your phone and pulled up what phase it was. “Sure as hell!” You laughed, looking over at him. “Your birthday is a full moon!” You smirked, setting your phone back on the nightstand and crawled back into bed with him.

“So, my gray fox is Moon Crazed!”

“Crazed by something.” Henry purred, pulling you in for a kiss.

[strawberryteabunny]

More info on the Osaka/Tokyo parties; “Otome's Christmas Lesson Session”. I had in my head this was a tea party but it’s not; it’s a ‘lesson’; Misako and Midori (and AKIRA at the Tokyo event) will be giving out coordination advice and taking photos. There will also be an unveiling of the Peter Rabbit collab and the S/S ‘24 collection. At the Osaka event (likely also Tokyo?) they will also be giving away AiW tableware and there will be a display of vintage teddy bears.

Tickets to the Osaka event are ¥3300 and must be purchased along with an item worth ¥3300. Tokyo tickets are ¥4400 and also must be purchased along with a ¥3300 item.

The new IWxPeter Rabbit collab is already killing me inside. I don’t know what it looks like beyond the few promo images but I want it so bad it hurts… and this is the order priority:

Sooooo anyway if anything will even be in stock by the time I get to order catch me sobbing into my keyboard on Dec 22 because either I won’t be able to get my beloved bunny or I will have given all my money to IW.

[vivwritesfics]

Shine A Light Into The Wreckage

Chapter One - Spilled Coffee

Bob Floyd was many things. He was an instructor at Top Gun, a lover of Tolkien books and a huge fan of coffee. But Bob was also clumsy. That was how he bumped into the table, knocking her drink onto her notebook.

He felt bad about it. Bad enough to come back time and time again, in the hopes that she would be there. And, every time, she is. Each time looking a little worse for wear. It doesn't take Bob long to realise he has to save her.

1.9K

Warnings: Abusive relationship! Abusive hair pulling! Abusive slight choking! Forceful sex! Seriously don't read if you're affect by stuff like this

Okay so one day I was reading Stiff Competition by @roosterforme and the next day I was writing this and I haven't stopped since

Series Masterlist

Bob Floyd was a coffee man. It had started at the end of high school, when he used to wake up early to study. It continued on when he joined the navy. 

Through his first stint in Top Gun, Bob would go on regular coffee runs. They took it in turns, always going on their own and challenging each other to carry as many coffees as possible.  

It was a habit that Bob had kicked after Top Gun. He knew it was a bad habit, relying on coffee to wake up. So, he stopped.

But then he was once again at Top Gun. After graduating once, he was back again. And, once again, the coffee runs restarted. Bob redeveloped his habit for a cappuccino with chocolate sprinkles on the top. From the first sip, he couldn't remember why he had given it up.

Even after that mission, Bob stayed in California. The man from Montana stayed at Top Gun, becoming an instructor, along with Natasha Trace and Jake Seresin. Rooster returned to Virginia, said he had a girl out there. The rest of the squad returned home or were stationed overseas. It wasn't the easiest to keep up with. 

The coffee runs continued. This time, with just himself, Nat, and Jake, the coffee runs were a lot easier. Especially when the barista put the takeaway cups with one of those cup holders meant for four. 

The coffee runs changed every day. One day Nat would go. And then Jake would. And then Bob. Always one at a time, always in that order. 

Whenever Bob was on the coffee run, he looked around the café. His eyes moved from table to table, looking at the people sat there. An older couple drinking coffees by the large window, a teenager eating a sandwich with headphones covering his eyes and people on their lunch break. One at the back of the café tapped away at her computer keyboard, periodically taking a break to sip at her drink. The other sat at the table by the door, her bag on the other seat as she scribbled away in her notebook, a full mug of coffee beside it. 

Bob didn't make any other observations as he collected his coffee and turned to leave. He had both hands on the cup holder as he turned to leave the café. 

He wasn’t clumsy. Well, he sort of was. Making a mess at the hard deck while ate peanuts, that time he accidentally hit Bradley in the stomach with the pool cue. 

But Bob couldn’t deny his clumsiness when he hit the edge of her table. Maybe if his hands weren’t full, he could have caught her drink before it fell over. 

A gasp left her lips as it spilled over her notebook, staining the pages brown. The writing on it was indistinguishable beneath the coffee. 

But that wasn't what this young woman cared about, not at first. She stood as she furiously wiped off her pencil skirt. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He cried, grabbing the napkin that sat under her glass. But the napkin was already soiled. 

Bob jumped into action. He put his coffees down onto her table and rushed to grab the napkin dispenser from the counter. "I'm so sorry!" He cried, grabbing napkins  and helping her to wipe off her skirt. 

But when the water stopped scalding, she stopped wiping at her skirt. Instead she dabbed the napkins at her notebook as a frustrated sigh left her lips. "Let me get you another drink," he said as he threw the used napkins in the bin. 

She shook her head at him. "No, I've got to get back to work," she muttered as she picked up her bag. She slung it over her shoulder and tucked her ruined notebook beneath her arm. 

"I'm sorry!" Bob called as he watched her disappear from the café. 

***

She sat at her desk, inspecting the darker grey patch on her skirt. It had been new, bought just the weekend before. But she didn’t much care about her skirt. That could be replaced. Sure, she'd have to take out money she didn’t have for a new one, but it was just a skirt. 

Her notebook was in front of her computer, months of work stained with coffee. The coffee had smudged her writing, making it unintelligible. It wasn't just the top pages, wasn’t just her most recent piece of writing. It was everything. 

Almost all of her writing was gone. 

Frustration ran through her. Frustration and then sadness. She couldn’t bring herself to be angry at the military man. It hadn't been his fault, really. 

But her writing was gone. It was months, years, of work. Her only way of escape and, within a matter of seconds, it was gone. 

As she sat through her shift, she tried to salvage what she could, making notes of the plot points she could remember. Tomorrow, when she went to the café, she could rebuild. This time she could spend all day there, not needing to run off to her job. 

It wasn’t easy to concentrate on her day job as she wrote down what little she could remember from her stories. But, too soon her day job was over. She still didn’t put her sopping wet, coffee stained notebook in her bag as she got ready to go. "See you Monday," she said to one of her co-worker as she pulled her jacket over her blouse and placed her bag on her shoulder. 

With her notebook on her arm, she took off. She looked down at her shoes as she rode the elevator down to the ground floor of the building she worked in. 

The elevator arrived at the ground floor far too quickly. She sucked in a breath, held her notebook against her chest and walked out of the building. Each step she took was heavy, as if her feet were reluctant to take her home. 

But her apartment building was far too close to her place of work. She opened the door and started up the dimly lit staircase, up to the top floor. Around her the yellow wallpaper was cracked and peeling. 

She missed the step ready to collapse in on itself and avoided the suspicious damp patch on the carpeted top of the stairs and pushed open the door to her apartment. 

"Hey, Ken," she said to her boyfriend, the man she shared her apartment with. Kenneth Johnson hadn't been called Kenneth since he was a boy. He went by Kenny to his friends or more importantly, Ken.

 She placed her notebook on the sofa, her bag on top of it, and hung her jacket on the back of the door. 

"Hey, Barbie," he said in a way she hated. It had been a joke back in high school - his name was Ken so, obviously, she was Barbie. "I cooked you dinner." 

*SERIOUSLY IF YOU'RE AFFECTED BY ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIPS I'D STOP READING HERE*

She looked at the small, round table in the middle of their kitchen. 'Cooked' wasn’t exactly the word she would have used to describe the half eaten microwave dinner on the table. "Ken, where's the rest of it?" She asked, her voice light. Almost as if she was talking to child. 

The smile dropped from his face as he yanked open the fridge. "Can't you just be grateful, for once?" He growled as he opened his can of something (she didn’t look up, didn't see what he was drinking as she ate what he had left of her dinner). "I make you dinner and you just want more of it."

She ate in silence, finishing her food quickly. When she was done, she cleaned both hers and Ken's plate away. 

As soon as she was standing up and walking to the sink, Ken looked at her up and down. "What the fuck happened to the skirt I just bought for you?" He asked as he clenched his can. His grip was so tight his can crumpled, liquid spilling everywhere. 

"C'mon Ken. It was just a little spill. It's gonna wash out before Monday."

The still full can clattered to the floor, spilling beer everywhere. "It doesn't matter that it will wash out," he said, keeping his voice calm. "What matters is that you're pissing away my hard earned cash!" 

"Ken-"

Suddenly he was in her face, fingers wrapping around her hair and pulling her up. An involuntary cry left her lips and she dropped the dishes back into the sink. "Don't talk back to me," he growled, voice low. His hand snaked around her throat, but he didn't apply pressure. Not yet. "Don't ever talk back to me."

Gulping, she nodded as best she could with the way he held her. And then he let go of her hair, but he didn’t release her neck. "You know I hate doing that, baby," he whispered, stroking her cheek. It didn’t matter how gentle his touch was, it was still searing. 

There was nothing she could do but whimper as he walked her out of the kitchen, leaving the mess of the dishes and the spilt beer.

She walked willingly to the bedroom. But really, how willing is it when you fear so much for your safety?

When Ken told her to strip and get onto the bed, she did just that. "Throw this out, I can’t have you looking like a slob," he said as she stepped out of her skirt. 

"Kenny," she started to say. But, suddenly she was on the bed, laying on her stomach. "Ken, please-"

But Kenneth Johnson wasn't listening to what his girlfriend had to say. He held her body down, hand on the back of her neck as he pulled her underwear down.

He freed himself from his trousers and pushed his cock through her folds. 

There was a time where they weren't like this, a time where they really were in love. Back in high school, back when she didn't mind being Barbie and Ken, he was sweet. He brought flowers and chocolates to her while she worked weekends. He visited her regularly when she went out of state for college and moved with her to San Diego.

It was a few months after they moved to San Diego together that Ken changed. It was a few months after they moved in together that his true colours began showing. 

She didn't cry anymore. There was no point when it didn't get him to stop. 

She laid there until he came and rolled off of her. Kenny laid in the bed and rolled away from her. Still, she didn’t move. She stayed until light snores left his lips. 

Only then did she climb off of the bed. She climbed into the shower that hadn't yet heated up and scrubbed her body. Hidden in an empty tub of body lotion was birth control. Birth control that Kenny wouldn't let her take. But she couldn’t have his baby, she just couldn't.

After cleaning up the mess left in the kitchen and scrubbing at the stain in her shirt, she crawled into bed beside him, but she didn't sleep. 

[billielolly]

Sims 3 Build - Relaxation Retreat

A vibrant family home full of opportunities for fun and relaxation, with plenty of space for a budding gardener. 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, on a 30x40 lot.

Watch the speed build: https://youtu.be/-7bnRL8bAsA

Download here:

Patreon (free): https://www.patreon.com/posts/111265768/

Exchange:

Expansion packs:

Ambitions

Late Night ?

Generations

Pets

Supernatural

Seasons

University Life

Stuff packs:

None

Store content:

Stones Throw Greenhouse - Greenhouse Window, Greenhouse Roof Center

Custom content:

heaven - Neutral Slate Roof with White Trim

missyzim - Neoclassic Build Set (Tall Wide 2x1, Tall Wide 1 Tile, Counter High 1 Tile, Tall 1 Tile)

Cakenoodles - 13pumpkin Rustic Wood Floor

Angela - Aiden Buildset 3x1 Arch

Martassimsbook - MyCupOfCC Hot Tub

Onyxium - Jena Bathroom Accessories (Reed Diffuser, Soap Dispenser, Toilet Brush, Tooth Brushes)

Mutske - Toiletroom Aria Toilet Paperholder

Gosik - Kobe Bathroom Towels 2

Martassimsbook - cmdesigns Anemone Bathroom Set Candle

Martassimsbook - Ars-botanica Cup of Pansies

Martassimsbook - Cowbuild Dahlia and Delpinium Vases

Mutske - Plant Palm Large

sim_man123 - Emerson Ficus Tree

Martassimsbook - novvvas Planties pt3 (Ficus Lyrata V1, Ficus Elastica, Monstera Deliciosa)

Martassimsbook - Cowbuild My Home Set (Hanging Pothos Plant)

ATS3 - Kitchen Herbs (Basil)

ArtVitalex - Mayorka Ceiling Spot Lamp

johziii - Irene Lamp

NynaeveDesign - Lyne Curtains (Curtains 1x1 Left, Curtains 1x1 Right, Curtains 2x1, Curtains 3x1, Rod)

ArtVitalex - Kalkgrund Mirror

Onyxium - Gibsonton Bed

Martassimsbook - Lorelea Floral Paintings

ArtVitalex - April Kitchen

ArtVitalex - Glen Mirror

Angela - Michelle Bedroom Mirror

ArtVitalex - Hampton Dining Chair

sweetdevil - More Planters (Prickly Planter)

sweetdevil - More Planters Part 3 (Fancy Box Planter)

Wandering Sims - Wildflower Mix Pattern 4

missyzim - French Country Paintings (Country Floral Painting, French Country Paintings 3, Provencial Painting)

Mutske - Liatorp Palm in Basket

Angela - Simspiration Issue 01 Watering Can

ArtVitalex - Upland Bathroom Accessories (Toilet Brush, Soap Dispenser, Toothbrush and Paste)

Twinsimming - Single Serve Hammock

Crowkeeper - The Cryptic Triptych Paintings (Enchanted)

ArtVitalex - Rowlett Hallway Extra (Key Bowl, Umbrella Holder)

Julietsimscc - Dark Landscapes Artwork

ArtVitalex - Doyle Pen Holder

Lulu265 - Bedford Bedroom Wall Art

deeiutza - Cottage Reading Corner Books

Martassimsbook - Pinkboxdesign Kitchen Clutter Set Dishsoap

Martassimsbook - Syboulette Millennial Kitchen Fruit Basket

ATS3 - Ceramic Canisters

Dhalsims - EA Ceiling Smoke Alarm

ATS3 - Wall Rack IKEA Fintorp-like

ATS3 - Washing-up Wooden Dish Rack

Martassimsbook - Cowbuild 500 Patrons Gifts Notebooks

Kerrigan House Designs - Belle Epoque Vanity

Martassimsbook - novvvas Mid Century Modern Living Room Books 2

QoAct - Lina Cushion II

sim_man123 - Celea Lily Vase

ATS3 - School Notebooks

ATS3 - Parisian Bistro Chair 4

bioniczombie - Tom Berry Knife Block

Martassimsbook - Chicklet Modern Lenai Patio (Chair, Box Deco)

Martassimsbook - Marvell Breeze Collection Plant

PralineSims - Contemporary Carpet 22

PralineSims - Big Flokati III

PralineSims - Classic Carpet 3

(Optional) zoe22 - Flower Arranging Mod (Table Used)

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 14

Hello! Thank you so much for all the love the last chapter got! It was amazing to see.

In this chapter we have the Nancy take down. And if you've been following along on WIP Wednesday you know who awesome it is, and if you haven't you are in for a treat.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

~

Eddie was starting to think that he was more nervous to meet up with Nancy than Steve was. His boyfriend was calm, collected, and determined.

He was in awe.

Eddie, on the other hand, was a wreck. He had to keep wiping him palms on his jeans, which did nothing to stop the one knee bouncing under the table.

Probably because he knew something Steve didn’t. Eddie and the Corroded Coffin boys were ready to pull the plug if this meeting went south. They weren’t going to stand by an agent who treat ‘Abbadon’ and the rest of The Fallen that way.

Eddie wasn’t exactly sure how he managed to convince Gareth without letting it slip that Abbadon was Steve, but a miracle occurred and they had all four members on board.

They had decided to meet at the studio where it would be home turf for Steve and they could speak more openly about the band and their alter egos.

Benny was in the editor’s booth arranging some of the songs they had already recorded and would be on hand if they needed a moderator.

When Nancy arrived, she let herself into the recording booth. Steve’s back was to Benny so he couldn’t see his face, and Eddie was in a chair nearby. A small tray of goodies was on the table with water and coffee to drink. Steve had his hands wrapped tightly around a water bottle, Eddie’s first indication that Steve wasn’t as calm as he thought he was.

“I understand I’m supposed to call you Abbadon during this meeting?” she said in lieu of a greeting.

Steve pointed up to the booth behind him. “This is our producer, Bob Newby. He’s working today and doesn’t have the low down on who I am, but he’s listening in to keep things all fair and civil. Say hi, Bob!”

“Hi, Bob!” Bob repeated back dutifully. “Don’t mind me. I just wanted to make sure a couple of the track were laying like they’re supposed to.”

Nancy looked up at the cheerful man and then back at Steve. “Hey, Bob. I’m Nancy Wheeler. It’s nice to meet you.”

Bob’s grin was infectious. “Let’s keep it that way, shall we?” He waved at her and went back to what he was doing.

“I was hoping that we would be able to dispense with the charade so we could speak frankly,” she said, sitting down on one of the nearby chairs and folding her hands on her lap.

Steve licked his upper row of teeth, slow and dangerous. “I would have to trust you more for that and I really, really don’t.”

Her eyes flicked up to the sound booth and then over to Eddie. “I thought the point of bringing Eddie was so that he would be the mediator.”

“Oh I volunteered!” Bob said gleefully. “I offered to mediate so that Mr. Munson could be the bodyguard.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but slammed it shut when she saw that even Eddie was looking her with suspicion too.

Nancy took a deep breath and leaned forward on her elbows. “Before we started dating I was looking for a way to elevate my social status. My mom was always going on about how popular she was in high school, but I was too interested in books and journalism to put much stock in it my freshman year.” She sighed and straightened up. “So over the summer I had her teach me how do my hair and makeup. How to flirt and act with boys. But I wanted more than just a climb up the ladder.”

Eddie and Steve shared a glance. Eddie shook his head, while Steve rolled his eyes. He waved for her to continue.

She licked her lips and then scooted forward to grab a bottle of water. She took a long drink, cradling it in her hands as she started up again.

“I wanted to rebel,” Nancy said with a little eye roll of her own. “It was stupid. I wanted someone who my parents would raise an eyebrow at. But I didn’t want a ‘bad boy’, I didn’t want to actually hurt my chances to get into college.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped. “Seriously, what the actual fuck, Nance!”

Steve reached out and put his hand on his knee. Eddie looked over at him, but quieted down.

“The king of the school was prefect,” she said with a shrug. “Top of the social ladder, known ladies man, a bit of dick and a bully, but nice enough that he wouldn’t harm me. So I did my research. I found out what kind of girl he went for and molded myself into that.”

Steve held up a single finger. “I’m giving you three strikes before I kick you out with great joy. You talking about me as if I was a separate person will not be tolerated. Because it removes you from the guilt of what you did. Try again.”

Nancy huffed and stomped her foot, but when Eddie raised an unimpressed eyebrow, she huffed again but did as she was told.

“You were always a means to an end,” she admitted quietly. “And then Will was kidnapped and Jonathan and I were thrown together because I thought Barb’s disappearance was connected.”

Eddie and Steve shared a confused glance.

“Didn’t Barb runaway with her boyfriend?” Eddie asked, tilting his head.

Steve nodded. “Used my party as a cover. A party she wasn’t even invited to, no less.”

“As I found out later,” Nancy agreed. “But you have to understand. I was her best friend, I figured that she would have at least told me about her plans.”

Steve had his own thoughts about the best friends bit, but he kept them to himself. He always assumed that Barb had used Nancy the way Nancy was admitting to using Steve.

“When I broke up with you the first time,” she continued, “I thought Jonathan and I had something special, something that couldn’t be broken. But he asked for time. He wanted to spend time with Will now that they had gotten him back. And I tried.”

Eddie scoffed, rolling his eyes. “A month. You were back with him by Christmas break. In fact I didn’t even know you two had broken up during that month until I started hanging out with Abbadon and he told me about your small break you two took.”

She ducked her head and folded her arms over stomach. “Something I wasn’t aware of myself that other people didn’t notice the first break up.”

Steve scoffed. “Everyone sure as hell knew about the second one though.”

Nancy huffed a small laugh. “I think it was in the broadcast news and all the newspapers. It was pretty hard to miss.”

“So why did you come back to me after the first time?” he asked, pained.

“After having a boyfriend for a couple of months,” she explained, “I found that after month of not being with someone that it was hard to go back to being single.”

Steve threw his hands in the air. “So I was always just a convenience to you?”

“Uh, hey,” Bob said into the resulting silence. “Sorry to interrupt and shit. And story time has been fantastic. Riveting even. But I haven’t heard anything like an apology or even remorse. So maybe hurry up and get to the point?”

“Look St–Abbadon,” she corrected with a roll of her eyes.

“Strike two, Nancy,” Steve called out. “You slipping up like that makes it really hard to trust you with a secret as big as ours.” He was cool on the outside, but on the inside, his heart was screaming at his brain to run. Just fucking run. He probably would have had Eddie not been there.

Nancy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You’re right. That was a dumb mistake and one that could not only cost me a lot of money, but clients in droves. I’m sorry.”

“That was the first sincere thing you’ve said,” Bob said, his voice crackling through the microphone. “And it was about money.”

Her head snapped up and she looked affronted at the booth. Bob just gave her a cheeky smile and jaunty wave.

“You don’t regret using me do you?” Steve asked, his voice quiet and steely.

Nancy clasped her hands together and licked her lips. Her bottle long since emptied. “It’s really not that simple, Abbadon and it wasn’t as though you didn’t use people and throw them away, too. Look at Tommy H. and Carol. As soon as they crossed whatever invisible line you had on their bullshit and you told them to fuck off.”

Steve slowly stood up and walked up to the coffee table that separated them. “That was different and you know it. It took a lot for me to walk away from their abuse. It was you. You gave me the courage to walk away because I thought you had my back. But it’s clear you didn’t then, you don’t now, and you won’t ever.”

He clenched his fists and then jammed them in his pockets. “I refuse to have an agent who is so cutthroat that they are willing to hurt whoever is in their way, because one day it might be me.”

“Think about what you are saying,” Nancy implored. “Most agents aren’t going to take you on because of the anonymity clause. I was the last resort. You have no one else to go to.”

Steve bit his lip. He didn’t want her. She would stab him in the back, her lack of respect for him was oozing off of her like the smell of sweaty unwashed festival goers The Fallen were forced to endure when they first started.

Just as he was about to give in, about to throw in the towel and admit defeat, his phone rang.

“Abbadon,” he greeted, answering it without looking at the caller ID.

“Oh good! You’re still at the studio!” a very excited Robin nearly screamed into his ear.

“Celeste,” Steve said, warningly. “Too loud.”

Robin giggled maniacally. “Can’t stop, won’t stop.”

Eddie stood up and came over to see what the fuss was about. Nancy’s smug expression slid off her face as she frowned.

“What’s up?” Steve prompted.

“I got a call from an up and coming agent,” she said. “She’s got a few good clients, a couple of comedians, a B-list actor or two, but everyone I’ve talked to loves her.”

Steve straightened up, but at the same time his shoulders relaxed. “Tell me more about her.”

“Her name is Vickie Cameron,” Robin enthused. “She’s been in the business for about three years. Just like the band. She’s really out-going and friendly. And getting a band like The Fallen would be a huge win for her. Allow her to expand into music.”

“Hey, Celeste,” Eddie said over Steve’s shoulder. “You think she would be interested in two big bands to rep for?”

Nancy was on her feet. “What?!”

Robin cackled. “As in the biggest band in the world right now?”

Eddie looked up at Nancy with a feral grin. “That would be the one.”

“I’m sure she’d be thrilled.”

Nancy stepped forward, her hands clenched at her sides. “You can’t do that!”

Eddie just shrugged. “Can and will, darlin’. Before walking into this meeting, I had a talk with all my boys and they all agreed that if you were shit to Abbadon, we’d back out too.”

“I’ll get right on it,” Robin said. “I’ll contact Chrissy and the both of us will meet up with her to discuss the details.”

“And what is her stance on the onstage personas?” Steve asked looking over at Nancy.

She brightened. This could be it for her.

“Her words were, and I quote ‘It would be a fucking travesty if they were forced to reveal their identities.’”

Nancy’s jaw dropped and her eyes went wide.

“She loves the onstage personas,” Robin continued. “She says that what makes the band a major part of the metal scene and to take that away would not only be a disservice to band but to their fans too.”

Eddie and Steve shared a glance and then they both turned at looked at Nancy with great big grins on their faces.

“And that’s all she wrote, folks!” Bob said from the booth. “I believe you can show yourself out, but I’m gonna anyway.”

Steve turned into Eddie’s shoulder so his face would be covered as Bob popped out of the booth and opened the door to the recording room.

“After you,” he said with the biggest smile on his face.

Nancy grabbed her purse and marched out. Steve picked up the mask and held it a moment.

“You want to know the best part of all this?” he said, looking over his shoulder at Eddie.

“What’s that, sweetheart?”

He slipped the mask on over his face. “The NDA is for the life of the band. Even if ten years down the line we come out to public with our real identities, all she can say on the matter is ‘no comment.’”

Eddie threw his head back and laughed. Steve turned around and grinned. He had his answers about Nancy and Jonathan. He had her seen out and she had lost her biggest client because she couldn’t find it in her to be nice to him.

It was a good day.

~

Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

I honestly don't know how long this is going to go, I have barely got to the tour and it just keeps stretching out like a god damn taffy pull. I think this will be the longest fic I've ever written, so there's that. I also worry I've been focusing too much on dialogue and not action.

Tag List: THREE SLOTS REMAINING

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop

[sunglassesbot]

Honestly it's a crime how they replaced those complimentary hotel soaps with the dispensers that are bolted into the side of the shower. When I was younger I would always relish collecting all the complementary items from the hotel room and placing them into my bag as I was packing up to leave. I guess I could get an empty water bottle and just empty the soap dispenser into it but it's just not the same.

[mysteriesmuse]

Third Year Katsuki is definetly “too hot to handle.”

And you’re not just saying that in the joking way. Over the years combined with his fiery temper, fierce compassion, and firey explosions he’s also matured incredibly well. Not just his temper and his social skills — which are significantly better than when he started at UA — but also his looks. Katsuki Bakugou the resident badboy (good guy, really) heartthrob of Class 3-A; and let me tell you it’s both a pleasure and a significant amount of confusion to be on the receiving end of his affections. —————

And it happens most often, and most obviously in passings . . . The way he chins at you when you walk into the living room area on your way out to jog. Always those red eyes flickering up from his spot sprawled out on the couch, an arm thrown across the back as he twists and angles his body to look at you, “not bad. g’morning sleeping beauty.” He says, and you know he’s joking and poking fun at you because he’s already been up for a half-hour or so. And him commenting about your appearance is normal bc you used to come down with bed head back in your first year until he started commenting on it. So now you done your hair up in fun little ponytails and boxer braids by your vanity every morning. And the comments always makes you roll your eyes and smile, but your toes are involuntarily curling as you wave and head out the door — he means nothing by it. he wouldn’t. He couldn’t he’s Katsuki and you’re just you. —— It’s the days when you and the girls like to play outside in the grass by the dorm — playful sparing and floating around. Right under his nose because his dorm room balcony is right above the green space. And it’s as the shouts get louder that he peaks his head out (ready to yell at y’all to quiet down) that he sees you sparing again Pink Cheeks. And Katsuki will find his way to the railing and lean down to look at you. “Oi, you’re in trouble now.” And you can hear him. Glancing up and that angelic smirk graces your face as you huff and pin her down. Katsuki always barking out a “HA” or a “Atta’ girl. Better luck next time” depending on how it goes. —— The commentary this man must give from the balcony like it’s his job to help the girls under his balcony train, not just because he came out and got distracting by you being there. Noooooo never. —— It’s how touchy his is when you’re in the room or in the library, especially the library. He knows exactly where to find you. You never see it, but everyone else can watch the way he beelines it straight over to your table after he’s finished collecting the books he needs. Any other table in the place? Not even a glance. No chance because Katsuki is trying to sit next to his favorite girl. And you’re always just a little surprised and manage a startled hello when he silently pulls out a chair and plops down right next to you. Somehow Katsuki — for his size and quality combat boots — manages to tread the tile floors silently when he’s trying to find you. And after he’s plopped himself down it’s always his knee pressed against your leg. Or his elbow bumping into yours, or his fingers brushing against yours when he picks up the pen you’ve dropped or sneaks a snack of yours. And you’d have half the mind to think of taking two bc he seems to be addicted to your chocolate covered pretzels. And he always seems to have an extra of the exact kind of pen you like.

And he always offers to refill your water bottle when you stretch your arms above your head after an hour to go fill it back up. Big hand grabbing his own and swirling around the last inch of water saying he needs to go fill his up too — and instead your water bottle break turns into the two of you walking and chitchatting about your assignments as you take turns in the hall with the one good water bottle dispenser. The rest of the library rap with attention as they watch “the Katsuki” walk around with a girl.

—— OR how friendly he seems to get in the hall. Always stomping or mysteriously gliding through silently as you and the girls gossip. And instead of asking y’all to move like a normal person Katsuki just always bulldozes straight through you. Grumbling something under his breath which tickles the skin on the side of your cheek as he slides right past you. A warm palm on the small of your back and an audible “ ‘cuse me.” Or a fast and furious set of hands around your torso as he picks you up and goes past, setting you back down on your feet. And you’ve started customarily yelling, “ do I even weight anything to you?”

Your hands up and exasperated. You always look perfectly cute and flustered. And Katsuki has the audacity to turn over his shoulder and smirk down at you. Licking his lips before he does so, “nah, it’s like a couple of grapes.” Before the hot headed blonde speeds off to where he was going leaving you with a Katsuki induced butterfly indigestion and Mina just gaping at the interaction.

——

And all the flirting he’s been doing, that you’ve been high-key trying to convince yourself that youre over-analyzing and thinking too much into it. Because COME ON it’s Katsuki freaking Bakugou and he’s literally sooo attractive it’s horrible, like seriously. Now Katsuki’s always saying off-handed comments to you about nearly everything you do. Except this time it’s a cut-and-dry compliment bc he’s moving around the gym behind you as you’re doing some sets with the barbell.

And you’ve only got one earbud in and that’s when you hear him say it. “sexy back.” and you blink bc you don’t think that’s what he said, but Katsuki’s path curls and circles in front of you as you lower the barbell back to your chest. — and oh my god he’s totally checking you out. Ruby red eyes delving straight along your midline and lingering at the sweat dripping between your cleavage from the power sets you’ve been working on.

And it’s your owlish blink that’s got him flickering his eyes back up towards your face. A sheepish look flickering across his usually sharp features. He coughs into his fist, “What? You’ve never heard that compliment before?” And suddenly he’s stepping even closer as he reaches a hand right under your chin to grab the barbell — his natural musk of burnt carmel flinging itself into your senses. “Uh no,” you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth, “can’t say I have.” Katsuki flashes a bright white smile at you. “Can’t believe I’m the first person to tell ya’” he chuckles, breathy. Which is partially a lie. Your knuckles tighten white against the bar; except he’s really the one holding most of the weight now anyways. You voice in your throat supplies you with a choked sound. “ ‘M serious,” he confides, looking into your eyes, “been thinking it everyday since day one.” And he’s been saying it under his breath every time he walks past you because damn the way the muscles of your back perfectly cushion your spine and slim down to that waist of yours has his head spinning and he seriously can’t believe this is the first time you’re hearing it. “Keep up the good work.” he adds. The weight of the bar transferring back into your hands as he saunters off to his next station. The little skip in his step accentuating his small back and tight booty as he walks away from you. And it’s only every waking second for the next few days that your mind is gripping onto the sound of his gravely voice saying “sexy back” and you’d be damned if you let a man get you that worked up over such a silly little compliment, but come on!! It’s the senior king of sexy himself who called you that? What else is a girl supposed to do? and it’s then that you start or consider Katsuki’s really flirting a little more seriously, maybe you should look into what he’s doing just a little more.

[mochirimochi]

Someone Else

William Afton X Reader

I continue to wanna smash the pervy dilf in the rabbit suit.

Part 2 in a series. I strongly suggest reading part 1 first, but you do you.

p1 ● p2● p3 ● p4

-----

William spots you attempting to make a quick escape through the security cameras. He decides to make a quick call to demonstrate the... benefits of sticking around. You're his, afterall.

18+ Minors DNI.

~3500 words, no use of y/n

------

content: extremly dubious consent, voyerism, mutual masturbation, phone sex, dirty talk, degradation kink

cw for abusive relationships

You can also read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51615532

-----

You slowly blink your eyes open and it takes a moment for you to remember why you’re lying with your face down on a musty old couch cushion. You sigh and force your pounding head up, attempting to ignore the screaming pain in your hips and back. Why in the world were you so sore? You’d slept on worse couches than this one and they’d never done you this dirty before. You’d had the most vivid dream as well, the strangest, most frightening, and yet also the most… stimulating wet dream you’d ever had in your life. 

You push yourself into a seating position and a sharp twinge between your legs gives you pause, as does the breeze over them. Slowly, you look down and realize your pants and underwear are tangled around your ankles. Still tangled around your ankles.

Fuck. 

The events of the night before come flooding back to you with all new clarity and you bury your head in your hands with a groan as it sinks in. You don’t know whether to be ashamed, terrified, or uncontrollably aroused. Actually, you seem to be managing to feel all three things just fine. When you stand up your hips practically scream, and after a moment you feel something warm and viscous begin to slowly drip down your thighs. Your cheeks and ears burn with what must be the most intense blush you’ve ever felt.

First order of business is going to have to be getting clean. You’re sure you can manage that literally, but figuratively it feels like you might never achieve it again. You pull up your jeans and underwear and limp your way out of the staffroom on stiff, aching legs. Around the corner you spot a bathroom and you push your way through the doors. To your surprise and relief it not only contains the regular amenities, but also a cramped shower stall. It makes sense, the mascot suits the staff wore sometimes must have gotten awfully hot on the inside, you’d probably want your employees to freshen up a bit after wearing one before they went back out to interact with customers.

You reach in and flick on the shower, twisting the knob all the way to the top of the hot dial. You don’t really have any hope for hot water, but you can dream can’t you? The shower spits out a stream of cold, rusty water that thankfully clears after a few minutes. While the water flows you strip out of your clothes and use a fist full of the paper towels that are thankfully still in the dispenser to scrub off the worst of the grime that’s accumulated in the stall. To your utter shock the water eventually begins to warm, and you gratefully step into the hot shower.

There’s no soap of course, but it’s better than nothing. You rub your hands over your body, flinching when you hit a large bruise on either hip. Unbidden, your mind slowly starts to drift back to the night before. You remember the way his nails sank into your flesh, his iron grip as he’d slammed into you. A shiver runs through you and you don’t even have cold water to bame it on. Before he left you last night he grabbed your panting form by the hair one last time, pressing his face into your neck and licking you from collarbone to ear.

“Stay as long as you like.” He’d practically purred, pushing his cheek against yours as you whimpered helplessly. “As long as you let me collect rent.” With a sharp nip to your jaw he’d finally let you go, allowing your limp body to crumple onto the couch. You must have passed out after that, because the next thing you can remember is waking up.

Just thinking about it makes desire curl in your stomach all over again, but it also makes your blood run cold. You can’t be sure, but you don’t think he’d come to you that night looking for sex. No, you have a feeling his intentions had been much, much worse than that. It seems to you like you survived that encounter through sheer, dumb luck. The best option for your continued survival is probably to beat a hasty retreat and find somewhere else to lay low. Yes, that’s definitely what you should do, but even as you mentally commit to getting the hell out of dodge you can’t help feeling a pang of disappointment. You can't remember the last time you were so uncontrollably and unreservedly turned on. None of what happened last night should have aroused you. You know on an intellectual level that it was deeply, deeply wrong and dangerous. Your body however, feels differently.

Your body isn’t the boss of you though, and as you turn off the water you resolve to pack up and leave. It’s better to be left wanting than left for dead after all.

You do your best to dry off with the paper towels, a frustrating affair that leaves you mostly still damp and you struggle your way back into your clothing. There isn’t much to be done about your wet hair, so you settled for running your fingers through it to tease out the worst of the tangles. Without letting yourself think about it too much you hurry back to the staffroom and begin to gather your things. You don’t have much to grab, just your flashlight and bookbag. The guts of your phone are still spread out across the floor and for some reason you feel compelled to pick them up and drop them into the nearest garbage. It feels like disrespecting the building by leaving trash around would be the wrong move to make.

After peeking out the window to make sure the coast is clear you shrug your bag over your shoulder and hastily make your way down the hall. You can’t help but feel like you're being watched as you walk, and your brain pictures a large yellow figure looming behind every door you pass.

Just as it seems like you’re going to be able to make your way back into the main area of the building, something stops you in your tracks. The sharp and abrasive ring of an old fashioned phone pierces the quiet and you twist towards the sound. It’s coming from the room next to you, helpfully labeled as the “security office”. You continue to peer into the room as the phone’s shrill ringing echoes in the empty hallway. You can’t think of any good reason that someone would be calling the long defunct business and dread begins to pool in your gut.

The phone is not your problem though, and after a few more piercing rings it falls silent. You give yourself a shake and try to move on, taking a few steps forward and reaching for the door to leave. Just as your fingers brush the knob the phone rings again, causing you to practically jump out of your shoes. You turn back towards the room, staring at the door in trepidation until the ringing stops. It has to be a coincidence, right? You stay frozen for a few long minutes, but the phone doesn’t ring. It could easily be a wrong number you reason, or kids calling on a dare. You reach out for the door one last time and your heart begins to hammer as the ringing once again fills the silence.

Not a coincidence then.

With a gulp you begin to move towards the security office, stepping through the door and casting your eyes around the room in search of the phone. You spot it sitting on a cluttered and dusty desk, just behind a rickety old fan. Your hands shake as you reach out and pick up the receiver.

“Hello?”

–

William has been glued to the monitor from the moment he arrived in his office. Connecting the video feed from the pizzeria to his office at the counseling center had been a simple endeavor, and one that he had found necessary to keep an eye on his… wards over the years. He’s thankful for it now as he watches you blink the sleep from your eyes. The sight of the dark purple bruises forming on your hips and ass sends a wave of possessive pride through him that has his cock twitching in his trousers, and he hisses in disappointment when you pull up your jeans to cover them. 

He watches in amazement as you effortlessly navigate the halls and disappear into a bathroom. What is it about you? How can you survive unscathed and with such little effort where so many before you struggled and failed? He knew the animatronics knew you were there, he’d watched you bumble right into Freddy the night before. Yet somehow they had no desire to pursue you, they even seemed to be actively avoiding the areas of the building they knew you were in. Were they trying not to frighten you? It stokes a deep curiosity in him, the same one that had driven him to visit the pizzeria in person last night for the first time in years. 

What makes you so special?

That curiosity had been all that motivated him the night before, but now he finds he has an even better reason to keep an eye on you. Claiming you last night was thrilling, and now that he has that he wants to do it over, and over, and over again. He’d watched you sleep all night through the security feed, stroking his cock as he replayed your dalliance in his head until he couldn’t take it anymore. You’d been so wanton, so pliable. It was exquisite. 

His brows furrow when you emerge from the bathroom (damp clothing clinging deliciously to your frame) and begin to pack. It’s immediately clear that you’re planning on leaving.

Now, that just won’t do. He’s just gotten you, he won't be letting you go that easily.

He didn’t expect you to pick up the first call, but when you ignore the second his teeth clench in frustration. 

No, that won’t do at all. You’re his, and things that are his do not ignore him.

When you finally begin moving towards the phone the wait is agony, but he relishes the fear in your eyes as you lift the receiver.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

–

You suck in a deep breath at the familiar voice, your blood is pumping so fast you can hear it roaring in your ears. The mix of fear and desire from last night comes flooding back to you all at once and you squeeze your legs together despite yourself. 

“I didn’t think you’d want me to stay here.” You lied, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “I was going to find somewhere else to stay.”

“Now that won’t do at all. Here I’ve offered you room and board out of the kindness of my heart, and at such a reasonable price. You wouldn’t throw all that back in my face by leaving, now would you?” His voice is smooth and even, taunting you. The underlying threat in his words sends chills down your spine.

“I appreciate all that, thank you.” You push the words out quickly. “But I don’t want to impose on you anymore. I’m sure I can arrange to stay with someone el-”

“You’ll do no such thing.” He cuts you off with a harsh growl. “You’ll stay where you are like a good little slut.”

You flinch at his words, but heat floods your stomach.

“Please, I can’t stay here forever.” You whisper, clenching your fingers around the phone cord.

“The way I see it, you don’t have much choice in the matter. You’re mine now, little mouse, let’s not forget that.” 

A whimper forces its way past your lips, and you can’t be sure whether it’s in fear or in longing. You hate that your body is reacting to him like this. You’ve just jumped headfirst from one terrible situation and straight into one that’s even worse. And yet you find yourself practically buzzing with anticipation. You shake your head to disagree with him, but it doesn’t have much conviction behind it. 

“There’s no use fighting it, little mouse. Besides, you didn’t seem to mind it last night.”

“I’m not. I can’t.” You gasp, but you don’t know what it is that you can’t do. Can’t stay here? Or can’t fight it? Does it even really matter?

“You can and you will.” His tone is sharp, demanding. You can feel your chest heaving in desperate breaths and his next words fill you with a delightful dread. “I want to hear you say it.”

“No.” It comes out in a whisper, and even to you it doesn’t sound very convincing.

“I want you think very carefully before you say ‘no’ to me again.” He speaks slowly, and the words sound like they’re coming from behind clenched teeth. “Now say it.”

You clench your fingers even tighter around the cord and feel the hard rubber press into your skin. After a moment you finally manage a response.

“I’m yours.” It’s barely audible, no more than a breath, but you know it’s true the moment you say it. Just admitting it fills you with a shocking longing.

“Again.” 

“I’m yours.” Louder this time, it comes out in a breathy moan.

“That’s my good little slut, I knew you’d make the right decision.” He chuckles into the receiver, but his voice is deep with arousal. You clench your legs even tighter and grasp at your stomach with your free arm, desperate to relieve the throbbing heat at your core. “Does that get you off? Knowing you’re all fucking mine?” The rumbling of his voice in your ear and the desire behind his words has you gasping.

“Yes.” God, you wish he could step through the phone and take you right there, bend you over the desk and fuck you into oblivion.

“Then be a good little whore for me and take off your shirt.”

–

God, you’re exquisite.

Hearing your whimpers, watching you give in to him, knowing that you’re his? It’s enough to drive him insane. His cock is straining at the seam of his trousers and he can’t resist the urge to free it any longer. He takes himself in his hand with a satisfied groan, letting his head fall back against his chair and closing his eyes for just a moment to drink in the pleasure.

When he looks up again your hands are tangling themselves in the hem of your shirt as you chew your lip, pinching the phone between your ear and your shoulder. Just as he’s about to repeat his command you slowly begin to pull your shirt up.

You tip your head just so as you lift your shirt off over it, giving him the perfect view of the love bite he’d left at the base of your jaw as a parting gift. His cock jumps in his hand and he groans in satisfaction. He wants to leave his mark on every inch of your body, leave evidence of his presence everywhere he touches. His attention shifts to a deep, mottled bruise at the base of your neck, one that he knows he didn’t leave. The groan turns into a growl. He remembers the pathetic man whose voicemail he overheard you listening to the night before. The thought of another man putting his hands on you, leaving a mark on what’s his, fills him with rage. Your body is for him and him only, no one but him will ever touch you again. He’ll have to find a way to pry his name out of you, although the thought of anyone’s name but his on your lips makes him sick.

His attention comes back to you as your shirt drops to the ground. He’ll have time to worry about staking his claim on you later, he decides as he watches you bite your lip in anticipation, waiting for his next direction.

“Now the bra.” He breathes into the phone and watches as you slowly pull down the straps and undo the clasp, baring your breasts to him for the first time. He wishes that the monitors were bigger, that he had more than one angle to appreciate your delectable body. He wants to touch you, but settles for stroking his cock while he watches you squirm for him. He sees your eyes roaming around the room, looking for the camera that you must have realized is there by now. When you finally find it, staring up at him with wide, pleading eyes he can’t suppress a groan. 

You're all his, and he plans to take full advantage of that.

–

You don’t know what’s come over you.

Your chest is heaving, your whole body trembling as you hang on his every word. A small part of your brain is still rebelling, telling you this is capital “B” bad and you should turn around and run straight out that door and never come back. But that thought can barely surface before it’s washed away by a flood of earth shattering arousal like you’ve never experienced before. You really should run… but you won’t. 

His voice comes through the phone again.

“You wish I was there don’t you?” His voice was like velvet brushing against your skin. “Wish I could bend you over that desk and take what’s mine.” You gulp, had he seen your hungry glance towards it earlier? You nod frantically.

“I can’t hear you, little mouse.”

“Yes, please, come take what’s yours.” You rasp, you hear another groan on the other side of the line.

“Well then take off your pants and show me how much you want it.” You almost drop the phone in your haste to rip your jeans off and another deep chuckle signals his approval. “Now sit in the chair and face the camera.”

You do it without a thought, swiveling the chair around and crumbling heavily into it. Your practically soaking panties are the only barrier between your ass and the seat. 

“Spread those legs for me, I want to imagine my face between them.” You obey with a moan. You’re desperate to touch yourself, desperate to plunge your hand into your panties and relieve the thrumming pressure between your thighs. You don’t dare to deviate from his instructions, so you sit there, the cold air and your arousal forming goosebumps on your skin.

A few minutes pass before his next direction, you can hear his deep breathing through the phone as it quickens. You realize with a gasp that he must be touching himself and the image in your head makes you throw your head back and groan. The thought of him stroking his cock to the sight of you is almost enough to push you over the edge and you haven’t even touched yourself yet. You haven’t even taken your panties off yet.

“Please.” You beg, and for what feels like the hundredth time in the last few hours you don’t know what it is you’re begging for.

“Stroke that pussy for me until you cum like the little slut you are.” He barely has time to groan out the words before you plunge your hand into your panties. You’re so sensitized that you gasp when your fingers meet flesh. You imagine that they’re his fingers and you whimper at the image. The sound of his ragged breathing in your ear tells you he’s matching your frantic pace.

“No one else will ever make you feel like that, little mouse.” His voice is tight and strained.

You groan as your hand works with feverish intensity. You’re so close.

“Whose are you?”

“Yours”  You’re gasping for breath, his voice driving you wild with desire.

“Who owns your pussy?”

“You.” There isn’t anything you won’t agree too right now, as long as he doesn”t stop talking.

“And you won’t try to leave again.”

“Never.” You practically sob out the words, your brain going blank as your body takes over.

The intellectual part of your brain is sounding another alarm and desperately waving a red flag, but the red heat of your desire outweighs everything. You scream as you reach your peak, twitching and spasming as your muscles clench with a strength you’ve never known before.

You hear his breath stutter, and his deep groan sends another wave of pleasure through you. You imagine him coating his fist and thighs in his cum, all the while watching you from wherever his video feed leads.

Neither of you speak for a long moment, the only sounds filling the room are the twin sets of ragged breaths that come from you and the man on the other side of the phone.

“You won’t forget who you belong to again.” His words are both a threat and a promise. When the receiver clicks and the dial tone assaults your ears you collapse out of the chair and onto the floor, still quivering.

You are literally and figuratively fucked.

[miss-tc-nova]

Big Kitty and the Ducks - Leona Kingscholar x Reader

Going for a straightforward title today.

Anyway, a couple months ago, when I visited my family, someone brought miniature ducks and hid them everywhere, so my brother and I had fun finding and re-hiding them. It got kinda silly but that's the inspiration for this nonsense.

Premise: Ducks are infesting the school and Leona's not thrilled

Words: 1,314

~~~~~

               Duck.

               Duck…

               …Duck

               …

               Duck.

               Goddammit.

               Huffing, the lion turns his gaze away from the front of the class to the windowsill. It takes all of a single second to spot the little round body and bright orange beak basking in the sunlight.

               Duck.

               What the fuck?!

               There’s been a wild phenomenon emerging at Night Raven College in the form of water fowls the size of marbles. These miniscule birds have been popping up literally everywhere. Light switch: duck. Commons potted plant: duck. Potion vial: duck. Spelldrive goal: duck. Ceiling: duck. Duck duck duck! Hell, he even found a duck in the soap dispenser in the bathroom.

               And the whole damn school was fascinated.

               It started out with a handful of birds being found around the campus. Students laughed and collected them, but then more appeared the following day and then the next. Soon, it became a whole thing that ducks found were to be documented on magicam and relocated to another, equally ridiculous location.

               Yet while the rest of the school seemed fascinated by their sudden arrival, Leona is getting sick of seeing the little, yellow demons. Even his usually blunt, brutish dorm were enjoying the duck hunt. He can’t even begin to count the number he’s spotted in his dorm alone and it’s annoying.

               “Yo, Leona.”

               As class lets out, Leona finds his gold-digging hyena waiting for him in the cafeteria. The underclassman places a tray on a table, having already obtained the lion’s lunch for him.

               “How’d history go? Get a decent grade on that exam?”

               A fork stabs at the cut of beef. “If yer looking for next year’s answers, forget it. Trein didn’t let us keep the graded copies.”

               “Damn,” he sighs. “I didn’t really expect the exams to be the same, but an old exam would’ve been good study material.”

               “Sounds like more hassle collecting old assignments than just doing the work.”

               “You’d be surprised. Some of your second-year assignments are the exact same as this year’s.” The sophomore’s smug demeanor turns suddenly distracted. “Oh look, a duck!”

               With a toothy grin, Ruggie plucks the trinket from the table center piece. As he does, he apparently notices Leona’s annoyance and offers his finding.

               “What? You wanna take ‘im?”

               “Get that stupid thing away from me,” Leona growls back.

               “Ooo, spicy. Shishishishi.” He earns a glare. “I figured you wouldn’t be into it, but I didn’t think you’d care enough to hate it.”

               There’s a pause. Then another laugh escapes the younger student.

               “Especially for a guy who has one in his hair.”

               Leona’s eyes widen, his mouth pursing to contain the shock and fury. He’s lying—Ruggie must be lying.

               With that devious smirk, the second year gently tugs at one of his housewarden’s braids. There, wrapped into his hair with his hairtie, is one of those stupid, yellow, unassuming, miniature, goddamn ducks.

               Exhaling all his indignant fury, Leona rises. Not another word leaves his clenched jaw as he promptly leaves, ignoring all questions. From the cafeteria the lion stalks, in search of the one single individual who could’ve done this. Other students quickly clock in to the dark aura and provide a wide berth on his path. His rage leads Leona from the main building of the college down to the little rundown dorm tucked neatly in the shadows of the castle. A swift kick slams open the front door but no one is there to greet him. At least not until half of the dorm’s residents come rushing in from the kitchen.

               “Leona? What’s wrong?”

               “C’mere,” he demands, closing the gap himself.

               The Ramshackle prefect goes tense at his quick approach. A hasty hand takes hold of that adorable face, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of the cheeks.

               Low, dark, Leona’s voice rumbles. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

               The response is somewhat muffled. “Huh?”

               “You did this—you started this stupid duck thing, didn’t you.”

               Recognition sparks. “How did you find out?”

               Eyes narrowing, Leona shows the figure wrapped up in his hair. A smile works across warped lips. Despite Leona’s ire, the prefect giggles, thoroughly pleased with the ordeal.

               “Where the hell did you even get that many ducks?” he snaps, not even bothering to ask why

this whole thing even started to begin with.

               “Sam.”

               Of course it was Sam.

               “You menace.” With a growl, Leona pushes the magicless student back a step. “Now fix it.”

               Eyes roll, smile still intact, while the student motions towards the sofa. The grumpy lion flops onto the couch, his head falling into the lap of the offender, as had occurred some few times before.

               Fingers play with the end of the braid. “I wondered when you would notice.”

               Huffing, Leona elects not to engage in this line of conversation.

               “It’s only been there a week.”

               Eyes snap open, his body goes rigid, lips purse, and ears flatten. There’s no way he went a whole week with this damn bird tied into his hair, mocking his disdain for the frivolity. That giggle burns in his ears for more reasons than one.

               “I found this giant bag of little ducks at Sam’s a couple weeks ago. At first, I was just using them to bug the other first years, but I didn’t expect the whole school to get in on it. You should’ve seen Sebek’s face when he found one stuck to Hornton’s horn. Of course, I asked first and he was happy to be part of the fun, but man was Sebek mad. And Ace freaking biffed it when he spotted the one I stuck to the basketball hoop. That was funny. And—”

               As the prefect prattles on about misadventures, Leona feels all the tension seeping from his muscles. Yes, the ducks were still stupid and, yes, they infested the school like locusts, but it was harmless after all.

               And it made the prefect happy.

               “And oh my gosh, I think it was Jade who managed to put one on Crowley’s hat! It’s been there for like a month and—”

               “Hey.”

               Leona’s interruption silences the freshman.

               “You done yet?”

               “Oh, one sec.” The end of the braid is tied with the golden tie. “There.”

               Before he can sit up, the prefect reaches down, placing the damned bird on his chest, staring him down with its stupid, unblinking eyes. Sneering, Leona swats the plastic from his shirt and sits up. It clatters across the floor, making its way somewhere beneath the coffee table.

               “Aww. Oh well. Guess Grim will get to find that one.”

               Leona’s nose scrunches at some pungent scent wafting in. “What’re you burning?”

               “THE COOKIES!”

               The prefect could almost apply for the track and field club for the speed used to rush back to the kitchen.

               Now on his own, Leona simply sits in the Ramshackle commons, his thoughts slowly wandering beneath the table. A string of curses slips his lips as he gets to the floor, feeling around under the table until he finds the figure. He scrutinizes the trinket in his fingers before his gaze begins scouring the room. The chandelier finally holds his gaze long enough for a quirk to tug at the corner of his mouth.

               With a steady hand and careful concentration, the flightless bird levitates its way to its new nest on the light fixture. Surely, it’ll be weeks before anyone finds it there.

               The lion’s admiration is snapped by the return of the prefect.

               “Good news! I saved them!”

               “Aren’t you supposed to be having lunch?”

               “Hey, do you want a cookie or not?”

               A brow quirks but Leona accepts a treat from the offered plate. “Might as well. It’s your fault I’m missing lunch.”

               “Huh?”

               “Nothin’.” Turning on heel, he heads for the door.

               “Wait! What did you say?!”

               His back to the prefect, Leona smirks to himself.

               “That furball’s never gonna find that duck.”

~~~~~

Just some pics of our fun we had

~~~~~

Nova’s Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

[mychlapci]

I can't get fat momma Swerve out of my head but I can't phrase any ideas I have I just want him so bad

I want him to get fucked so hard he goes into labor, I want bots to milk his tits and rub their spikes on his belly, I want him to give birth in the bar and have mechs pulling his chubby little thighs apart so they can lick up all the fluids, I wanna hear him cry cause the sparkling is too big and surprise there were 2 in there and they're both huge, I want him to beg for a cube of high grade to numb his processor a little from the pain but no one will cause its bad for mommy's milk, I want him to cook his placenta and eat it cause he heard about it on a TV show and Magnus should yell at him for contaminating the grill, I want I want I want

I just think Swerve should be fat and pregnant all the time don't let him be able to get up. Broodmama meg is out, Swerve is kicked back in berth with his legs up, bitties on his titties, and the remote in his hand to watch reruns -🌱

fat momma Swerve drives me positively insane. i can't believe it took us this long to hit him with the milfication beam.

Swerve would absolutely end up giving birth in the bar... He's so pregnant and fat by now that waddling from one end of the counter to the other is a struggle, and he's completely given up on serving drinks in the booths. Bots don't mind, this way they get to crowd by the bar and watch the little bartender slowly bring their drinks and their food. It usually makes them so horny that a mere couple hours into the night Swerve is snatched up and fucked until he's a blabbering mess. hrghh imagining him super over-due, squirting around a huge spike, when his water explodes out of him. Maybe bots collect his birthing fluids into cups, treating him like a tasty energon dispenser <33 It takes soooo long for him to push out his huge, chunky bitties, valve split so wide open it almost looks impossible. the head of the first bitty is so big that it pushed his chubby little thighs as far as they could have possibly gone, and even that was barely wide enough. By the time he's done giving birth to his twins, his belly is covered in transfluid and bots are already throwing themselves at his valve.

And of course he eats the placenta later... maybe he can even add it to the perverted menu, since he's already growing another chunky bitty. hrghhhh Swerve should be permanently knocked up, so round with babies he can't stand up from his berth at all, not that he'd want to - bots bring him energon, food, snacks, and plenty of overloads <3

[imperator-titus]

Favorite Party Banter [Druid Edition]

[Astarion (Ascended)] [Halsin/Jaheira] [Gale] [Karlach] [Lae'zel] [Minsc] [Minthara] [Shadowheart] [Wyll]

I often miss party banter because of party comp (and sometimes just straight up can't hear??) so here's a collection of my favorite bants while going through dialogue files. I know the wiki has the banter (most? all?) but I added the file names and dev notes.

Either Jaheira or Halsin is the main speaker/subject or I think their reaction is good shit.

Not in any particular order.

[PB_Astarion_Jaheira_OskarsBeloved]

Astarion: Cazador always warned us to stay clear of this neighbourhood. Never said why, though.

Jaheira: The last spawn who tried was sunk into the cobblestones and left for the sun to find. I had an unfortunate taste for theatrics, in my youth. {Devnote: A little abashed, but shrugging it off}

Astarion: Ah. Yes, that was probably it.

[PB_Halsin_Jaheira_Park]

Halsin: Ah, a glimpse of nature. Like a sip of water to parched lips, eh, Jaheira? {Devnote: content}

Jaheira: Baldurians think all druids to be hay-haired idlers, Halsin. Perhaps we ought not speak of nature - but high art, or politics? {Devnote: ‘change the record, all these city folk think we’re hippies as it is’ A little tongue in cheek, she agrees with him entirely}

Halsin: I think on them also. But nothing matches the splendour of an ancient tree. {Devnote: Unfazed}

Jaheira: It is so. And, should one favour bear-form, that tree in particular makes for excellent back-scratching… {Devnote: Idle, teasing - offering a direct tip to Halsin under the guise of a hypothetical}

[PB_Shadowheart_Halsin_ROM_Act3]

Shadowheart: Halsin, if I were a druid, what animal do you think I’d be? {Devnote: Idle banter, either Loyal/Reject Shar arc}

Halsin: Given your memory issues, perhaps a goldfish? {Devnote: Gently teasing}

Shadowheart: I’d hoped for something a bit more exotic… but would you carry around my fish bowl, feed me flakes of food?

Halsin: Only the finest, of course.

[PB_Laezel_Halsin_Act3_ROM_001]

Lae’zel: You’ve quite the appetite, Halsin. I’d wager you’ve bedded more of your foes than you’ve felled.

Halsin: Hmm. A challenging sum. The chimera has three heads… but does it still count as one? {Devnote: Not offended, thinking back}

Lae’zel: Must have been a challenging kill.

Halsin: Kill… yes. {Devnote: ‘Yep, that’s definitely what I mean.’}

[PB_Halsin_Shadowheart_SteelWatchFoundry]

Halsin: The birthing ground of those steel monstrosities. I would feel little sorrow if this place should close forever. {Devnote: some disdain (in a factory making robo-sentries)}

Shadowheart: Oh come on, you have to be at least a little impressed by the craftsmanship. There's only so much you can do with wood. {Devnote: gentle poking}

Halsin: Not so, in my experience. There is little I cannot whittle.

Shadowheart: Did you do that on purpose...? {Devnote: half-amused groan}

[PB_Halsin_Gale_ROM_Act3]

Gale: Halsin, you must have accumulated considerable wisdom on matters of the heart in your long life.

Gale: Anything you'd like to pass on to a strapping, love-struck wizard such as myself?

Halsin: Dispensing advice on matters of the heart would be like swapping boots - what suits me may be a poor fit for you.

Gale: Ah. Well, there's no faulting that logic. At least you didn't tell me to 'be myself'. {Devnote: Accepting the answer. Thinks 'be yourself' is naff advice}

Halsin: Oh no, perish the thought. That can be outright cruel advice to offer in certain cases.

[vaporwavebeach-writes]

Kinktober Day 14 (Orgasm Denial)

Jackson Rippner x Reader (NSFW)

(1,064 Words)

Summary: you refuse to give Jackson his phone call, so he refuses to let you come

Warnings/Tags: 18+, gender neutral reader, hostage situation, threats, airplane bathroom sex (woooo mile high club), little bit of hair pulling, Jackson being forceful, orgasm denial (duh)

Notes: ok, so I meant to write a fic for this movie WAAAAAAAY back in April but hey, better late than never LMAO enjoy the fic!!!

-

Never in a million years did you think you’d find yourself in a hostage situation, but here you are.

One moment, you’re sharing a drink with the charming man you met at the bar in the airport, then next thing you know, you’re forty thousand feet in the air, staring out the window, by that same charming man, keeping you trapped to your seat.

His plan to you was easy: call the hotel, and switch the room. That’s it. The way he had described it to you was exceedingly simple. He specifically told you, it’s simple. But if it was so simple, why would he threaten to kill your family? Why was he so hellbent on getting you to switch the room? Why would he shoot down your every single, rightful attempt to escape? If it was so simple, why couldn’t he do it? What was he really hiding from you?

“Jackson, this is fucking insane,” you hiss. “Sooner or later I was eventually going to have to go to the bathroom, it’s an eight hour flight for Christ sake.”

He holds up an empty water bottle. “Best I can do.”

“Oh, you think you’re funny?” You let out a soft chuckle, laced with annoyance. “You think you’re fucking funny? You’re not funny, Jackson.”

“Look, if you just made-”

“No, no, what would be funny, was if you let me piss myself, making a scene on this fucking plane, which I’m sure you wouldn’t want, right?”

Jackson sits there silently as you continue to go on your whispered tirade.

“And if I get taken away, you’ll never get that call.”

“Your family will die.”

“How bad do you want it, Jackson? Fucking try me. You want me to make that call? Then please, let me go.”

Jackson stares at you for a moment, completely dumbfounded. His icy eyes soon narrow into an amused gaze. He lets out an entertained sigh, and gets up from his seat.

You cock your head, confused. At first you think it’s some sort of trick until he motions for you to go. As you make your way down the aisle, you feel a tight grip on your wrist, holding you back.

“Don’t get cute.”

He lets you go, and you find yourself in the cramped space. After locking the door, you make the attempt to collect yourself, taking in a deep breath and exhaling a groan of pure rage. You curse yourself at the situation you found yourself in. You curse yourself for the possible danger you’ve landed your family and possibly innocent people in. You stare at yourself in the mirror, angry that you even let yourself fall for him back at the bar before all this even happened. At this point, you would like for nothing more than to punch the mirror, cracking and shattering it into shards.

Wait. The mirror?

Glancing at the soap dispenser, you frantically pump out some of the soap, forming suds on your hands. By the time you’re finished writing your message, you let out a laugh of relief. Cleaning off the evidence, satisfied with your plan to escape, the pride suddenly drops into the pits of your stomach as you find Jackson, waiting outside the door.

Before either of you can get a word out, you feel his hand covering your mouth. The back of your head hits the wall as he slams the bathroom door shut. You feel woozy, from the quick motion quickly halting to a stop. You can hardly pick up what he’s saying until you find your consciousness has faded back into place.

“If that little, by-the-book stewardess saw that, the plane would be safely landed, I wouldn’t be able to relay my command to the man outside your house, and your family will be dead.” His hand grips the sides of your cheeks, forcing your gaze to meet his. His eyes, glacial, look at you fixedly. “It would be wise of you to stop gambling with their lives.”

Due to the cramped space you two currently find yourselves in, you feel his body on top of yours, impossibly close. The room starts to grow heated. Breathing heavily, adrenaline flows through you, ready to escape by any means necessary. Without thinking, you press your lips to his.

He opens his mouth slightly, allowing you to feel one another’s tongues in your mouth. He nips at your lip as he pulls away, eliciting a soft mewl to escape your lips. You gaze into each other’s eyes, deeply, before diving back into one another.

The kisses grow more heated. You can feel him gripping at every curve and crevice of your body. Your hands make their way up to his head, fingers raking through his hair, giving it a soft tug. You note that this seems to spur him on, as he grinds himself against you. Feeling the sudden friction to your groan, you let out a hushed moan.

You soon find yourself being propped up on the sink. The sound of heavy breathing and Jackson unzipping his pants fills the cramped cubicle of a room. You can feel a growing dampness from within you sex. Arousal spikes within you, once Jackson’s throbbing cock is whipped out from his pants.

A hand drops in between your sex. You bite back a moan as Jackson gathers your pooling arousal, swiping over the spots that make you squirm. He lets out a smooth chuckle, pleased with himself. Positioning himself with your entrance, you feel his cock slide into you roughly. His other hand warps into your scalp, yanking you closer to him as he fucks into you.

His pace is slow, but exponentially rough. You can feel him splitting you open deliciously, fighting the urge to let out whimpers of pleasure escape, which would compromise both your position. It’s when he speeds up his pace, which has you getting more vocal as you beg for your release.

“Jackson, please,” you pant. Your back hits the wall with each thrust, feeling yourself come more and more undone.

“N-not until, fuck, you make, the call,” he grunts, pounding into you.

“Mmm, you know, I-I can’t do that.”

“Then I guess, you won’t be coming anytime soon,” he teases, cruelty staining his voice. He slows down his pace, significantly, forcing your approaching peak to cease. “It’s your choice, how bad do you want it?”