#Worms World Party

[stinkywormynoob]

"Do you really want to finally do something useful?"

[wormsarmageddon]

The PSone version of Worms Armageddon is available on the PS4/PS5 store and is on sale for $4.99!

You can also get the PSone version of Worms World Party for $3.99, if you're more interested in the multiplayer experience.

Some stray notes about these versions of the game below the fold:

Both WA and WWP on the PSone support widescreen play! You'll need to go to the A/V settings and switch from 4:3 to 16:9. Once you've done that, you'll want to hit the Options button on your PS4/PS5 controller and change the display mode to 16:9.

The WA menus look a little wonky - it looks like the rendering method they used on the original PSone isn't emulated properly on the PS4/PS5. It's purely cosmetic, and doesn't impact in-game play. So far I haven't seen this issue affect WWP.

WA and WWP were both games that supported the PSone's DualShock controller, but as far as I can tell the emulated version on PS4/PS5 defaults the controller to a regular "classic" PSone conrtroller as opposed to a DualShock. This means you can't use the right analog stick to look around the map like you can on an actual PSone.

As the PSone didn't have online play, these games don't have online play either. Pity.

[benpaddon]

I've spent so much time just knowing things about Doctor Who that I imagined I might, in time, become the Larry Nemecek of Doctor Who.

And then, quite by accident, I discovered I'm actually the Nemecek of Worms instead.

A couple of weeks ago someone at Team17 described me as someone who "knows more about the history of Worms than even most people at Team17". Which... wow. What do I do with that?

I guess I'm the unofficial Worms historian now. Which is wild! Ask me anything, I guess?

[wormsworldparty]

Seriously, just get Worms Armageddon instead.

[jayisabellsart]

"At night Katya is struck by overwhelming hunger"

This line in the doc has always stood out to me

@nopanamaman

[dsaf-rift-party-au]

Goddamnit religion strikes again.

Image by @thygoddessouijathicc

Original under cut

[midnightwind]

started a short fic with an enby Tav about how people call Astarion spawn and leech instead of by name a lot because I got Feelings over it (read the full fic on tumblr or AO3!)

[obsessivedilettante]

I’ve seen Barbie 3 times now which is still 3 times too few. I adore it. I am obsessed. If I could see it every day, I would.

There are so many intelligent takeaways that one could have about the film, but right now the most delightful one(?) is me, a natural brunette cis-lady, dramatically bellowing out at random times:

“I’m just Ken! Anywhere else I’d be a ten! Is it my destiny to live and die a life of blond fragility?”

My mum loves my serenading.

(Just kidding — she’s tired of my Kenergy. Or maybe you could say she’s had Kenough.)

[guppybibi]

Price who lets his child cry in his arms while they rant about the incredibly hard homework their teacher gave to them (multiplication.)

Simon who suddenly becomes the world's best actor when his child asks him to join their tea party (happily drinks the cup of (tap water) tea his precious child made)

Kyle who carefully washes his child's hair after a long day of school (he isn't going to question why he found a worm and a lego brick in there)

John who teaches his child to 'fight' when he hears that they're getting bullied at school (he's been called to the office multiple times, is now trying to un-teach his child how to fight)

[not-the-cheese]

one sentence summaries of every TMA episode

(1-60 i'll add more soon)

part 2 up!

world's most effective anti-smoking PSA

man DOES NOT open coffin. everyone claps.

woman is judgemental towards neighbor even though she has hobbies that are just as weird.

book makes multiple people fall off chair.

man finds bag of teeth and decides he absolutely needs to fuck around and find out.

worm sti.

there was a SCARY MAN in the WAR.

fuck this tree

well at least ted bundy was a great father :)

i'm like 55% sure vampires are real and i'm willing to take those odds

bitches be dying. you're next.

we kill this man because he made the soda too warm.

sorry ur husband's dead. maybe get some help.

Unbox with me ! (GONE WRONG)

hah i'm safe from this one because i have decided to Never Go Into a Cave Ever.

man is so annoying about this spider that even his cat can't be bothered

man's bully finds a book about a Bone Turner and subsequently begins turning people's bones.

this guy sucks at DIY home improvement

aw maybe this priest didn't do anything THAT bad!

oh fuck nevermind

THE SKY ATE MY SON.

the worms stole my identity. i haven't left the house in days.

man beats german children at game of bravery and wins a coin (he later loses this coin)

my ex boyfriend gets casted in the muppets and dies

sorry mom, i've abandoned jesus for a new religion : jesus in the dark.

tall squiggly and HANDsome

old man arm wrestles demon through door knob

the buzzfeed unsolved guys finally catch a ghost but it's their sound tech

immortality but at what cost

working at the big meat factory was so traumatizing it made me vegetarian

i go to america and get almost killed by a furry

well if you love that wasp nest so much why don't you MARRY it (and then she did)

antisocial boat crew bands together to exclude one guy from a midnight party. he dies from the rejection.

bone apple teeth

remember when that norwegian guy threw a tantrum about us not digging a hole? turns out we were right to not dig that hole.

babe come over my parents have taken ill and passed away

man fucks around and it costs him everything

HOMOPHOBIC CHINESE VASE

oh god oh fuck the worms are here

thank you for participating in worms! please rate your wormsperience from 1 to 10.

the wormsperience has left me deeply scarred. i'm going to get lost in a tunnel about it.

🎸music makes me loose control🎸

spooky stories to tell at the next police slumber party

child threatens to run away and join the circus one too many times, and now the circus has come to cash in.

these mosquitoes are mad sus

man frequents local barnes and noble and then dies(?) after liking a book too much.

realtor gets eaten by the backrooms twice. it's a terrible shame.

both me and this weird goth dude have an unsatisfying italy vacation

guy who turns people's bones gets a new job where he continues to turn people's bones.

man who should never be allowed to build prisons builds a prison.

Something Big Is In The Water.

what if u heard me about 15 feet behind you fumbling around and calling out ur name 😳 (and we were both prison guards)

i'm going to be honest i didn't retain anything from this episode except that this guy has the silliest old man voice ever

everybody hates the tax man, including these creepy taxidermy animals

hmmgh. ant house.

so turns out being only 55% sure that vampires are real in my career as a vampire hunter has had some consequences.

the only thing keeping you company in space is your abandonment issues

🎶 the snack that smiles back 🎶 (my husband!)

maybe the real treasure was the house siblings we encased in spider web along the way.

your dead brother wrote books about ancient myths and WHAT

Part 2

[spookyreader23]

My three books for the month of January. I read "The New Year's Party" by R.L. Stine, "How To Sell a Haunted House" by Grady Hendrix, and "The Cabin at the End of the World" by Paul Tremblay.

[rosenclaws]

Erased || Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: You are a powerful mutant with powers you hated. They ruined your life and it led you down paths you weren't proud of. Things changed and now you lived happily with Logan. Until your past seems to come back to ruin everything

warnings: angst. traumatic childhood, brief mentions of torture.

wc: 2.7k

Link to part 2

a/n: Hi guys, so this is kind of the you get hurt and he goes feral fic but i've combined it with this other wip i had laying around. I talked a lot about wanting more angst and tw death (my grandmother passed last night) so ive been in this weird state of sadness that i'm repressing. Either way i wrote a fic so there's that lol. I will def have a part 2 btw so don't worry.

Sometimes when you close your eyes you can remember your childhood. What it was like before your, gift, appeared and ruined everything. How your family loved you, how your friends welcomed you, how the world didn’t hate you. Everything was perfect.

Until the day it appeared. All you did was touch her arm. That’s all you did. An argument with your mother, silence, and then you touched her arm to try and apologize and next thing you knew she was asking who you were. Yelling at you to get out of her house. You cried not understanding what was happening.

She looked at you with nothing but confusion. Not even a hint of recognition. Then your father came home and you ran into his arms. Afraid and distraught when he pushed you off him. The same look in his eyes. Who are you? They threw you out, threatened to call the cops. They left you all alone, afraid, and confused.

It didn’t take long for you to understand. A mutant. You had heard of mutants but never thought you could be one. A mutant with a powerful ability. Memory manipulation. You could alter memories, dive into someone's deepest fears, their secrets, and even erase anything from heads. In a single moment their whole lives could be changed. It was a dangerous power and you wanted nothing to do with it.

For years you lived on the road. Keeping yourself moving, stealing when you needed to. Never getting too attached to one place, to anyone. You were alone.

Then one day some people found you. Dressed in stupid costumes. Still they took you in. Gave you a home, fed you, trained you. You grew up there. From teen to adult. Charles was kind and you don't think you could ever repay him for all that he's done. Your powers were strong but he taught you to control your emotions.

Still you tried to stay a safe distance away from people. Not just physically but emotionally. The nightmares of your parents haunt you everyday. They're nice. All of them are. The kids loved you and you enjoyed the mansion.

Still when the team invited you out you declined, when the kids wanted to crowd you during dinner you politely excused yourself to your office. You didn't go to parties, you didn't celebrate the holidays with them. You were just you, a nice, safe distance away from them. Then your world got flipped upside down.

The day Logan rolled into the mansion. He was mean and angry. He had that "I don't like being around people" kind of vibe but he stuck around. Ended up becoming more apart of the team than he wanted. And he liked it.

Logan was the first one to really break down your walls. Just like everyone else you stayed away from him. Smiling and greeting him but never going past that. Maybe that's what drew him to you. You were a mystery who smelled like vanilla. It was your perfume. He would try to flirt but he got nowhere. Eventually he gave up the flirting but his interest stayed. He find ways to talk to you, getting bits and pieces of information from you.

You quickly learned he was just like you in some ways. Guarded, a past life that you don't want to talk about, loners. Somehow in all of it, as he stayed at the mansion and grew to become part of this family, he wormed his way into your heart too. Just too loners who found out that being alone together is better than being lonely.

As time passed, your relationship with Logan evolved into something you never imagined you would experience. Love. You never let yourself feel this way, too afraid that you would do the same thing to them. That you would get close, build this connection, make these memories, only for it all to come crashing down with just a single touch. These memories are precious to you. Every single one of them.

You remember the day your feelings were revealed. Both of you desperate, afraid of what they meant, but neither of you could lose each other. It was the cure. Some company had found a way to suppress the gene. The moment you heard about it you were intrigued. Your mutation wasn't fun. It didn't let you control the weather or turn things to ice. You couldn't touch people. Just like rouge you were at risk for destroying someone's whole life.

Even with the years of lessons you weren't fully in control. You never let yourself try. Logan could see it in your eyes. The confrontation wasn't pretty.

It was anger at first, wondering how you could even consider that. Then it was anger from you, years of pent up feelings releasing all at once. The fighting turned into a deep confession. An intimate moment between the two of you. He cared for you in a way that scared the shit out of him. He couldn't say the words yet but he felt them. You felt the same way but just like Logan. Something was holding you back from saying those three words.

Still you showed your love to each other in other ways. You always let him know how much you cared for him. The words died on your tongue but he knew. You hope he did.

Logan bought you a necklace. Didn't make a big deal of it but you could see the blush on his face. Tossing you the box and mumbling something about him seeing it and thinking of you. It was gorgeous. Just a simple heart necklace with two sparkling stones. One for him and one for you.

Even if you couldn't touch he wanted apart of him to be with you. It was perfect. Everything was perfect. You had Logan. You had the team, the mansion. For once you felt like your life was falling into place.

Apparently the universe didn't like that. Charles had called the team in for an important mission. You weren't on the team due to your own choosing so when Logan came back to bed he started to talk.

"Yeah some rogue mutants. Bunch of assholes who enjoy torturing humans." He grumbled as he threw his jacket on. Fixing his hair in the mirror as you sit on the bed. You're doing everything you can to stay calm, to not set off Logan's super senses.

"Some guy named Mack is their leader. Guess he's got some illusion powers or something." Logan says it all like its nothing. To him it is nothing. Just another mission. To you though, it's the beginning of the end.

"Don't know who in their right mind would do shit like that. Just a bunch of low life idiots." He spits. You wince at his harsh tone. He notices your silence and glances over at you. You're practically frozen in place. An unreadable look in your eyes.

"You alright?" Logan moves to touch your arm but you jerk it away.

"Yeah sorry, just had another nightmare last night." You lie. Logan looks at you strangely before sitting on the bed. His hand intertwining with your gloved one.

"Though I told you to wake me up." You snort and roll your eyes playfully. "And I told you the same thing." You counter. He smirks, you have him there. Part of why you go so well together.

"I'll wake you next time, I promise." There's a loud knock at the door and Logan grumbles.

"Promised some dumb kids I'd take them to the mall. Storm promised me a six pack of beer." After saying goodbye you let your smile fall.

This couldn't be happening. You thought you were finally safe, this was years ago. How could they still be around. Before Charles had found you, you were involved with this group. You weren't proud if it but you were hungry and afraid and they found you. Mutants just like you. They weren't afraid of you. In fact they were in awe of you, something you had never felt before.

You fell into their group, participating in the horrible things they'd do. You never did anything yourself. You were clean up crew. Wiping memories of anyone who saw something they weren't supposed to. Still, you enabled it all. When you finally left, it wasn't easy. You had tried to erase their memories but for some reason they could block you. You got away but they swore one day they'd come back for you. You were one of them forever now. No one would understand, no one would forgive you. You were a monster just like them.

Your mind runs a mile a minute. Thinking of everyone in the mansion. The team. Storm, Jean, Scott, Rouge...everyone.

Logan, oh god Logan.

Would he understand? He would have to. He's just like you. He did things in his past. He was violent, angry, a survivor. He never claimed to be a hero. But that doubt swirls in your mind. Fear overtakes any rational thought. You know what you have to do.

This was your fight, not theirs. You could stop them, you needed to finish what you started. Grabbing your wrinkled old backpack you stuff clothes, money, and any essentials inside of it. You had to move quick before any of the mind readers got a hint of what you were thinking.

Especially Charles. You barely had time to think about this but the fear was creeping into your mind. Poisoning it. It's better this way. It's safer this way. They've done so much for you that you owe it to them to help. You're protecting them. All of them. Logan included.

You held on tightly to the necklace he had given you. Tucking it in your shirt as you leave the room. You smiled as you walked through the halls. Saying hello to those who passed by. By the time you were at the front doors you felt a pull to keep you here.

Deep down you didn't want to leave. Of course you didn't. But you overcome the pull and walk through the doors. Refusing to look back as the mansion grows smaller in the distance. You walked for hours. Your feet aching as you finally reached some rinky dink motel. The room is depressing but for now it's home. Curling up on the bed you bury your face in the pillow.

Your heart longing for Logan. You're scared, so scared. A part of you wants to go back and find him. Tell him everything and ask for help. But then you remember what he said. How would he react knowing that you were one of them? Would he forgive you or would he turn his back on you just like Mack always said?

You barely get a moment to think before there's a loud knock at the door. Hand slamming impatiently against it. You quietly get up and look through the peephole. You cover your mouth to hide your shocked gasp. Logan. How the hell did he find you?

"I know you're in there." Oh he's angry. You open the door and Logan steps through.

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" His voice booms through the room.

"I come home to a ransacked room, I thought you were in danger. Only to be told that you ran away." He growls. He's clenching his fists tightly. How could you do this to him?

"How did you find me?" You demand as you slowly sink back towards your bag.

"Why did you leave? What's going on!" Logan is confused, lashing out on you because he just doesn't understand. Things were going great. You loved him and he loved you so why would you just run away. Away from the mansion, away from him. Did you not trust him anymore? Why?

"You wouldn't understand." You try to move past him but he grabs your shoulders and pressing you against the wall.

His claws coming out to pin you to it. The sharp adamantium knicks the chain around your neck, breaking it in two. The necklace falls to the ground but neither of you notice.

"Try me." The anger is slowly fading as he silently begs you to talk. To let him in.

"I'm sorry Logan, but I can't."

"Why not? What are you running from? I can help. Let me help." He begs. Please don't leave him. Please. He can do something. He can heal like crazy, he can track, he's fast, he's got fucking metal claws. He can help.

"You can't help me with this Logan. This is for your own good." You try to stay strong but looking into those gorgeous eyes of his was about to make you break.

"This is my fight and mine alone." He scoffs and lets go of you and starts to pace.

"Bullshit. This is our fight now. That's the deal. I lo-" He sighs and pulls you close. "Its you and me. Together." You gently trace his jaw with your gloved hands.

Tears glossing over your eyes as it takes everything in power to stay strong. To not fall into his arms. He's protected himself his whole life and you can't be the one to put him in more danger. He's a hero, he's your hero but tonight he's the love of your life and you need to protect him. Even if it feels like ripping out your own heart.

"Logan..." You say softly. He looks at you with those pretty eyes and you cup his face.

Slowly your lips brush against his. It's just a hint at first. Then it's everything at once. He smashes his lips to yours. Kissing you with a passion and need that you've dreamed off. This is your first kiss after all. It's everything you ever wanted. To feel his lips on yours. Skin to skin. You'll treasure this moment forever.

He's so wrapped up in the kiss that he doesn't notice you take your hand away. Taking off your gloves and move your hands to the side of his head. Hovering over his temples. He pulls away, breathing heavily as he leans in and kisses you again.

"I love you Logan, I love you so much." You say with tears falling down your cheeks. He realizes too late, a flash of fear as you press your hands to his face.

"No!" He roars but its too late.

Like he's in a trance he stands there. You cry as you erase every memory he has of you. He won't remember you, he won't know why he's here or how he got here. You know that you won't have long before someone else finds you and you'll erase their memory too. It's for the best. It's for his own good. His eyes flutter close as he falls to the floor. You catch his head, lowering him gently to the ground. A pillow placed under it. You can't stay, he'll wake any moment. But you have a few seconds. You lean down and place a kiss on his forehead.

"I love you Logan Howlett." You whisper gently.

You take one last look at him before grabbing your bag and running out the door. Each step apart from him is like a knife in your chest. You tell yourself this what needed to happen. You'd rather lose Logan like this than watching him suffer because of you. This way he can be happy, he can move on.

You did this for him. All of it for him.

-

Logan wakes to a pounding in his head. Confusion washes over him as he takes in his surroundings. Where the fuck is he? He doesn't remember how he got here, why he came here. He stands up and looks around the room.

"What the hell?" He mumbles to himself.

Was this a prank or something? He cracks his neck and looks around. The room is mostly empty but a small glimmer catches his eyes. He walks over and sees six holes in the wall that match his claws.

Leaning down he picks up a necklace. A heart with two stones. He winces as a sharp pain shoots through his head. He stands up and slips the necklace in his pocket, something telling him to keep it close. He feels a pain in his chest. Not physical pain but something else. Maybe he finally got drunk. Drank enough to finally fuck him up.

All he knows is that he needs to get back to the mansion. As he leaves stops for a second. He shakes his head and continues on, hopping back on his motorcycle. For a second there he swears he caught a whiff of vanilla.

Must be his imagination.

[bunnys-kisses]

I did the last request the vanilla cheesecake with a side of champagne and root beer and I forgot to add my person can it be max verstappen sorry!

bakery menu

thank you for the submission!! also i saw that this was your first time requesting a fic so THANK YOU! if you want to submit an order of your own, hit up the menu for all the information! i write for more than just formula one so go crazy! thank you and enjoy!!

vanilla cheesecake ("where are your manners?") + champagne (sugar daddy au) + root beer (filming/recording) served by max verstappen (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, filming/recording, collars, degrading language, mean!max, dom/sub dynamics, bondage, sex toys, orgasm denial/control, jealousy

max thought that you were sweet like honey, something to drag his tongue along as he had your ankles at your ears, his cock buried inside of you.

you didn't mind being the play thing of one of the best drivers in the world. you didn't mind that you'd be in your apartment one day and the next day you're in the back of his car heading to his jet to go anywhere in the world.

money wasn't an object to someone who made close to sixty-million dollars a year. even the time he was off racing, you'd still get a pretty deposit in your banking account.

it was a charmed life, but being the sugar baby to a man like max meant indulging in the needs of his. you were a paid service, company as you were once told it was.

and max had some sick little kinks. nothing that bordered on illegal (thank god), but the flying dutchman liked his girls behaving and begging. and you were the prettiest beggar of them all.

"head. forward." he said. he was seated on the couch and you were on your stomach with your arms tied behind your back with a belt and a toy stuck in your slick pussy. you had dropped your head up against the floor for a moment before max corrected you.

you looked up at him and whined a little, "please, sir. please, i promised i'd be good! i didn't realize what i was doing." and tensed up when max turned up the intensity of the vibrator via the remote in his pocket.

max currently looked fairly sleek, in slacks and a white button up. the suit jacket was draped over the arm of the couch and his sleeves were rolled up. those strong forearms were exposed. he was leaned back against the leather couch with his hand in his pocket with the remote in his hand.

he sighed through his nose before he said, "i don't think that's the case, treasure. you know what you did tonight, i'm surprised that you didn't whore yourself at that party."

you tensed up when he lowered the vibrations of the toy. he shifted in his seat a little and kept a stern eye on you. his gaze felt oppressive and it made you squirmed on your stomach. you felt like a worm, weak and vulnerable. prey.

"please, max. please, please, please! i'm sorry! it won't happen again." you arched your back a little and squirmed in your binds.

he made a face, that he wasn't convinced of your apology. he turned off the vibrator and got up from the couch. you could see the painful erection in his slacks more clearly. he walked over to you and held you by the back of the head to look at him. he said, "you are very dumb, treasure." his words were biting, "a dumb little thing." he shook his head a little, "oh max gives me money, so i can act like a slut. norris' hands were up your skirt. i don't like when people touch what is mine, especially another driver."

you flinched a little, but your core swam with want. he was domineering like this. scary in a way that left a thrill of excitement through you. you licked your lips and said, "it wasn't what it looked like."

he nudged you with his shoe and then stepped on the center of your back, right under where your hands were bound. he made a small noise before he turned the vibrator back on to full intensity. you tensed up and threw your head back, but you weren't going far. not bound and under max's shoe.

"i'm not too sure, treasure. i told you when we started this little agreement that you were going to be exclusively mine. i didn't want to share you with other men. i pay you enough to keep you mine." he pressed a little bit on your back and you arched it.

you felt the heat in your cheeks and the wetness between your legs. you panted a little bit, "i promise, i promise i will never let another man touch me." the lust in your body was short circuiting any logical thinking.

he chuckled, a little more convinced now. he took out his phone out of his other pocket and filmed your quivering body. he played with the remote in his other hand as he continued to film you. he took a good shot of your pussy as he watched your wither and moan.

"please, max. please, i'm sorry. i won't let lando touch me again. i thought he was just being friendly!" you moaned as you tried to shift your hips in a way to get the pleasure you need.

he put the camera in your face and your head in his other hand. he chuckled and got the camera close to you, "say that to lando right now, treasure. tell him you're off limits." he could feel the heat in his body grow, you were so painfully pathetic in front of him withering on a toy.

you looked up to the camera, your lips in a pout and your eyes were wet. you sniffed a little bit as you said, "lando. never touch me again. i belong only to max." then arched your back further as he lowered then intensity, only to put it to the max once more.

max rubbed your head and chuckled, "that's it, that's a good little slut. you actually know how to behave. i guess i haven't fucked all of your brains out."

you whimpered when you realized that max had full control over your orgasm. he was edging you when he finished filming you. you wondered if the video would actually be sent to lando at the end of this. the prospect of it excited you, maybe you liked the way max treated you like an object when he was upset.

he eventually had enough of the teasing he was doing to you. he got behind your naked, bound form. his phone on the floor beside him. he was still clothed with his cock out of his pants.

he loved the sight of you naked under him when he clothed. you shuddered at his oppressive gaze and winced when he took the toy out and replaced it with his cock. you squirmed under his touch and bucked against him. but a swift slap across the ass calmed you.

"you're so pretty like this." he said, "you're so painfully pretty on your shoulders and knees, letting me fuck the daylights out of you. you look good under me. it's where you belong."

you gasped against the hardwood floor under your. your cheek pressed against it as he started to rub against you. his large hands on your hips, keeping you pinned to him as he thrusted into you quickly,

there was no time for romantic pleasantries, he needed you at that moment. he needed to feel that sweet cunt around his cock as he fucked you. his possessiveness for you grew with each thrusts of his cock.

"please, max." you panted, "shit, please." you gasped as you moved against your binds. you felt the knot in your stomach as he fucked you without much abandon.

"see, you can be good." max groaned. he was obsessed with you, that was why he was luring you in with heavy stacks of cash. he could bruise your insides with his cock if it meant that you'd get something shiny out of it. it was almost cute, too easy for him to trap you.

the rabbit between the lion's jaw.

"max, i'm sorry. please, i want to be your good girl." you panted heavily.

he held onto the meat of your hips tighter and bullied that impressive cock of his deep into your sweet pussy. he wanted to make sure that he marked you inside and out.

pretty thing like you need to be owned. kept next to him, not running off with the likes of lando. things sparked in the back of his mind as he thrusted in and out of you.

he'd make sure next time that you knew who you belonged to before you both went out partying. maybe a collar next time, a nice piece of sturdy leather with a lock that only he could open.

so even if lando got his hands on you, max's name around your neck would be a reminder to him and anyone else that you were claimed territory.

"i know you can be my good girl." he said, "just lie there and let me fuck you. you're mine, got it?"

you swallowed, "yes, max!" you felt the heat curl in your gut the more that he fucked you. your head swam with pleasure, the aggressiveness to his movements were all getting too much.

he shuddered and pushed his cock as deep as it would go. he felt his pace stagger when you clenched around him and finally came. it was all too much for you. usually he'd make you beg to climax, but he had done enough damage tonight. your poor pussy was probably nice and bruised.

max would make it all up in the morning with something expensive. he'd wave a stack of euros in your face and all would be forgiven. he thrusted heavily a few more times before he pushed it in all the way to the base and finished inside of you.

he prayed the birth control he paid for worked like it did every other time. but a sick part of his brain hoped that it failed. he hoped that you got pregnant and stuck carrying his kid. then at least lando wouldn't touch you, hard to get his hand up your skirt when you're nice and pregnant with a verstappen brat.

he grit his teeth and grumbled, "that's it, that's a good girl." he landed a smack across your ass as he finished. his pace slowed and he panted heavily. he leaned back on his heels and admired the sight of his cum dripping out of your poor pussy.

you've learned your lesson. you were going to be max's good girl. you were simply his expensive play thing, but the more max sank his cock into the gummy soft pussy of yours. the more the addiction came over him, max was getting greedy with your time.

and soon he'd want to devour your whole <3

[savanir]

continuation of this thank you again @mynameisjag for the inspiration, this prompt currently has me by the throat

Death of the Father, Death of the Son

The evening is dreary, rain pouring from the skies like tears. Typical Gotham fare to be honest.

This evening was the stage of the latest gala in the crime filled city, another fundraiser for something, or at least pretending to be. 

Vlad brought his dear Madeline as well as Jasmine with him, he was planning to do some light networking but this was also his latest attempt to cheer his sweetheart up. The new experience might distract her a bit.

She had not taken the news well… when the search party found Daniel’s clone corpse in the woods.

It’s been months since the funeral, but her spark for life still has not yet reignited.

And in those past few months Jasmine has seemingly taken over Daniel’s job and has become a most persistent thorn in Vlad’s side, absolutely refusing to let him make any sort of progress with Maddie.

But this evening wasn’t about any of that. There would be no bickering between Vlad and Jazz about him aiding her in finding her lost brother. Not like she even needed his help, she and Daniel’s old friends were probably doing the best job possible in finding the boy.

And it’s not like he could tell her he knew her brother was probably being kept by one of the world's greatest mercenaries. 

Revealing that would open a whole new can of worms he didn’t want to explain.

Maddie was mostly distracted at the gala, staring morosely at Wayne and his brood.

The sight fills Vlad with an insidious sort of anger, the kind that lays heavy and molten on the bottom of your stomach. She better not get it in her head to try and replace one bumbling oaf for the next.

Also… getting rid of a Wayne is apparently a weirdly difficult thing to do… Vlad would rather not bother.

And even though he feels bitter, it is rather nice to see Madeline cheer up when she gets to introduce herself to the boys. Vlad again thinks about his plan of conceiving a new son of their own, not to replace Daniel of course, the boy is irreplaceable but… well, yeah to replace him.

After all, is it really worth it to find Daniel anymore at this point?

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

The gala is uneventful right up until Vlad leaves the main area for a breath of fresh air, hopefully find the designated smoking area and have a cigarette (it’s not like those things can kill him anymore anyway) but on the way there he saw a shadow darting around the corner and he just couldn’t help himself.

If there was any illegal activity afoot, he rather be on top of it himself, that way he’ll know what he can pull and get away with.

It wasn't until he entered a room and promptly got ambushed that he thought that maybe he had walked into a trap of sorts, oh well, nothing Plasmius wouldn’t be able to fix.

Gotham is a city of freaks but none of them are on his power level after all.

Still, precious decisive reaction time got wasted because he’s thinking of an approach that would not result in him having to permanently silence his assailant. Murder is probably rough to cover up in the city that’s home to the world’s greatest detective and bribing the corrupt police force is such a hassle… a scuffle of a mugging/abduction or whatever gone wrong is much easier to explain.

Instead Vlad finds himself tazed, tazed of all things. Perhaps an ecto infused blast into the nearby wall isn’t such a bad idea after all.

But then he finds he can’t access his powers anymore, and a mild sense of dread takes root in his chest.

That taser… it couldn’t have been….

He isn't given much time to think about it as he’s expertly incapacitated and worked against the ground.

Vlad thinks he hears the faintest mutterings, something along the lines of “we do rely too much on our powers” perhaps it’s some veiled insult directed at his current situation. Uncalled for in his opinion…

Of course he struggles, he fights back. His attacker is way smaller than him, lighter and quick with their moves, whomever this is they certainly know what they are doing and Vlad hates to admit it, but without Plasmius he’s actually outmatched.

That leaves plain ol’ shouting for help.

An idea that quickly got snuffed out when a big army knife that crackles with sickly neon green energy gets pressed against his throat and a detonator gets shown off in his assailant’s hand.

“Quiet now, or I’ll blow this place sky high”

“That seems counterproductive” Vlad can’t help but snarl.

“aww, worried about me? there is no need I’ll be just fine, them on the other hand…”

the attacker puts a tablet down that shows a video feed of the main gala area with all the people milling about.

None of them matter to Vlad, but his Madeline and her daughter are there as well, he easily spots them too.

“What do you want, money? I’m sure there are better targets for that out there”

All of a sudden there is a strangely familiar staticy growl in his attacker’s voice, “I want two things from you, I want you to suffer and then I want you to die”

this is personal then… not good.

His attacker takes a moment to more firmly incapacitate Vlad against the floor before redirecting his attention to the video feed on the tablet screen. In the main gala area a big screen of it’s own has come down from the ceiling, usually meant for big fancy presentations (but those had already been carried out for the evening) and was now showing Vlad’s latest illegal activity for all the people to see.

Inside the room people are worriedly looking to and fro, wondering what rogue attack this will lead to, others are already gleefully taking to social media and broadcasting the events happening to the rest of the world.

Personnel are scrambling about to figure out what’s going on, and a couple Wayne’s have now subtly left the area.

“There we go, all out in the open. No more secrets”

Vlad’s eyes darted over the screen in horror.

“I like this right here,” his attacker zooms in on Maddie’s face as she’s realizing in real time that Vlad paid someone to kill her husband, “that’s a good face”

People are looking around and starting to notice Vlad is not among them anymore.

“You cannot possibly expect to get away with this, the Gotham bats are most likely already aware and hunting you down”

“I know-” His attacker shushes, “don’t spoil my fun, at least let me enjoy this show. Even if you somehow manage to get away from me now your life is completely ruined” 

Vlad makes another attempt to escape, growling, “who are you and why are you doing this, how do you even know about half of these things-”

He gets his hands ran through and pinned down fully on the ground with the knives in return.

Vlad figures he must have made some noise but the painful pressure that his assailant keeps on his back is also making it harder to breathe.

“C’mon now, you always boasted about how you’re better and more experienced in every way. Surely you can use that big brain of yours and figure this mystery out, here I’ll help-” the attacker painfully twists his head to the side, “have a look”

It’s dark and the figure is still very much in the shadows but the first thing that catches Vlad’s eyes is the mask over his assailant’s mouth that’s black on the right and orange on the left, a rather obvious hint towards ties with a certain mercenary.

The dark hair styled in that one familiar way brings someone else to mind.

“Daniel”

The boy doesn’t hesitate to twist one of the knives in his hand.

“Don’t call me that”

“Danny-” Vlad doesn’t hesitate to correct even though it does come out rather strangled because of the pain, this is a bad situation and he’s not stupid, “whatever he said-”

there is a faint crackle and it’s only through Vlad’s still slightly enhanced senses that he hears the gruff voice talking to Daniel.

“Wrap it up Memento”

Danny glances at the live feed on the tablet. Proper security is starting to swarm around.

Maddie is holding Jazz close and appears to be talking to someone in charge. One of the Wayne brood has decided to stick with her, the eldest son. How kind of him.

Vlad is still trying to get Danny to listen to him.

Danny sighs, “I kind of wish I could drag this out longer, but this is fine” he twists his knee against Vlad’s neck and now properly restrains Vlad’s legs before pulling out something new.

“This is something my dad was working on before you got him killed, I was planning on sabotaging it and getting rid of the blueprints but... things change”

Danny puts it in the middle of Vlad’s upper back, “I’m sure you’re dying to know what it does. Well, it’s the Fenton Ghost Core Crusher. A bit of a mouthful admittedly. I’m still workshopping a better name, but at the very least the purpose is obvious”

“Daniel-” Vlad is starting to sound like a parent who is realizing that their kid is about to do something dangerous and stupid. It's honestly too bad that he’s not a parent and Danny is not his kid, otherwise it might have actually had it’s intended effect.

“I would have loved to see you deal with the full aftermath and consequences of your horrible choices in life but I don’t really feel like dealing with you as a full ghost so I guess this is it, goodbye forever, it really sucked to have known you”

Vlad has a second to fully regret Deathstroke taking Daniel and not taking it as seriously as he should have and then he’s too busy feeling what must be a supernova and a blackhole manifesting in his chest at the same time somehow.

After that he hears, or perhaps he just feels… a sickening crack and everything fades away.

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

There is a corpse at Danny’s feet. It’s Vlad, fully dead, the not coming back kind.

Danny figured he’d feel different, there is some vindication, and the slight satisfaction of a death avenged, but other than that he just feels rather empty, and kind of tired.

Danny doesn’t realize he’s getting a little lost in his head until Slade’s voice cuts through his mental spiral and snaps him out of it.

“Memento, time to move” 

“right”

A part of Danny wants to stay, be found. As he goes invisible and floats right through the ceiling he takes some time to fantasize about it. Would it be a bat? or perhaps one of the security guards checking the rooms, maybe it would even be one of the attendees, they would probably scream once they noticed Vlad on the ground. A security guard would be smarter about the situation, but not by much.

A bat would probably attack him once they realized Vlad was already dead.

Later on they would put a little addendum in their rogue list at Deathstroke’s name, a little side file that’s just for Danny, affiliated with Slade Wilson, name; ???, gender; male, age; somewhere between 14 and 18, threat level; capable of killing people, something like that.

A few buildings away Danny catches up with Slade on the roof.

“Did you have fun? did you get it all out of your system?” Slade folds his arms over his chest.

Danny just growls at him.

“In that case it’s time to move on” The man is already turning away.

Well, Danny can agree on that, so he follows Deathstroke away from the mess he caused at the gala and away from his mother and sister.

And here is my idea for a Deathstroke affiliated Danny

[feralthoughtdump]

Let Me Wrap My Teeth Around The World

Warnings: minors DNI, small age gap (everyone is 18+),  manipulation, love-bombing, possessiveness, social anxiety, the male gaze, financial exploitation, obsessive behavior, ownership, toxic dynamics, moral corruption, smut, virginity loss, coercion, dubcon, dark

Word Count: 4.1K

It’s been a while since Coriolanus found someone as the object of his affection. The last time was a few years ago, and it did no good for him. But this shy, sweet, beautiful Capitol girl was someone who could pose no risk to him and seemed to have wormed her way into the recesses of his mind. 

She was the shy girl in one of his University classes. Rumors circulated about her wealth or lack thereof. She was some prodigy who earned her way into the school through merit rather than money, and it left an open inquiry as to who her parents were. He didn’t know what drew him in. The House of Snow had just regained a semblance of wealth and power, and associating with a girl like her could easily create cracks in the foundation.

She wasn’t wealthy enough to come from a district family who bought their way in, but she certainly wasn’t like the other students who took classes with her. Though she wasn’t wealthy, she wasn’t necessarily poor, at least not as poor as his family used to be, but he could recognize the signs of the consistent repair in her uniform, using the same stitches Tigris would use on his old clothing. It turns out she had come from a family of seamstresses and artists. 

He also learned that she loved pretty things, not just spotting them but making them. Her apartment was always decorated with little knick-knacks and drawings that covered the walls. Coriolanus would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy spending time in her dingy apartment. It was small, run-down, nothing more than a studio with a bed, desk, kitchenette, and a heat pipe that screeches and clangs at the most ungodly hour. But he loves staring at how her brows furrow as she sketches or how she tucks her lower lip between her teeth in frustration. Despite being unable to help her work, she was always happy to have him around. 

This leads him to her small apartment at least once a month with a new pair of pants that were a bit too long or one of his father’s old shirts 

Even though he could afford to have his pants hemmed by a tailor or simply ask Tigris, he prefers going to her. After all, she’s become familiar with his preferred inseam length, and Tigris has become colder and colder towards him. 

He always insists on paying her even if she refuses. 

“We’re friends, Corio,” She said the first time. “You don’t have to pay me.” 

“Just this once, let me take care of you.” He insisted, pressing the cash into the palm of her hand. 

Just this once turned into every single time. Then, it became buying her meals and small gifts. He got her internships with other high-ranking game makers. Eventually, he convinced her that her old apartment was too small and worn down for a nice girl like her, and he moved her into a spare room in his apartment and turned the other into a studio. Then, he started taking her to parties and events she could never afford to go to, and he always made sure to buy her a dress even if she insisted that it would cost less if she could just make one herself. 

When their fellow students would snicker at her, he’d slip poison into their drinks. Never enough to kill them, just to get them sick for a week or so.

Somehow, Coriolanus finds himself taking her under his wing, becoming a mentor to her in some type of way.  She maintained that soft and sweet air about her, but with his help, she became someone her peers respected. Once, she was the girl who made other students in the University roll their eyes because she always tried too hard. Now, she was the girl who had connections and handed in exemplary work. She was the carefully created success story of a middle-class Capitol girl who climbed the ladder with hard work and determination. Now, she could spread her wings and fly, but only as far as he would allow.

With the arrival of winter comes the start of planning another year of games, and the Crane family was more than happy to host a commencement gala. 

This time, he bought her a pretty red dress she eyed in a store window a few days ago. 

The quiet gasp she lets out when he opens the box is music to his ears. 

“It’s even more beautiful in person.” She whispers the fabric pooling in her hands like blood. “I can’t let you keep buying me things like this. I can’t take this.” 

He fights the urge to roll his eyes. She always opposes, with her voice becoming soft, objections and promises to pay him back, tumbling from her lips. But that wasn’t what he cared about. He cared about how she presented herself. He got her internships and dragged her out of that shoebox of a studio apartment. She was a product of his hard work, and he wanted to show it off. “Think of it as a gift.” He smiles, gently lifting her chin to meet his eyes. “You’ve worked hard these past few months.” 

“Corio…” 

“Put it on; we have to leave in a few minutes.” 

… 

She’s stuck to his side whenever they attend these events. Her shy demeanor doesn’t do well in large crowds, and with an endless supply of expensive liquor, Coriolanus doesn’t want her wandering about alone. 

Throughout the evening, she’s been good. Smiling, looking pretty. Saying hello to the people he introduces her to, holding onto his arm, and letting him know when she’s feeling overwhelmed so he can rub circles on her back. 

People compliment her, telling her how beautiful she looks. Pride thumps against his chest. Of course, she looks beautiful. The dress he picked falls on her body like it was made for her. The red is beautiful against her skin, and the fabric drapes beautifully around her hips, showing off her elegant back. 

Eventually, she breaks away from him, needing to use the restroom. But after a while, he realizes something isn't right without her beside him. 

He worries when he can’t see her, and he finds himself rushing through small conversations and pushing past people to try and find her in a sea of people. 

Eventually, he spots her staring at the city's vast expanse, leaning on the balcony's edge. She’s slowly nursing her third glass of champagne in one hand, and the other picks at the cuticles of her thumb. 

That wasn’t a good sign.

“What’s wrong?” He inquires, approaching her with a hand on her back. 

She jumps at his touch, but relief crosses her face when she sees him. The last of the champagne is quickly swallowed, and she passes the empty glass to an approaching waiter. 

“Nothing, really. I’m okay.” 

From the tension in her forehead, he can clearly tell that she isn’t okay. Though he knows she hates it when he pries, he still chooses to do so.

“You aren’t, so tell me what’s wrong.”

There’s a beat of silence, and she sighs. 

“I feel out of place, Corio. I feel like I don’t belong here.”

“What do you mean? Of course, you belong here.”

“Everyone here is just so…” She looks down at her heels, trying to find the right words “I don’t know, I’m younger than everyone, and most of the people here have played a part in the games and all I’ve done is get coffee and print papers for them.” 

Her lashes flutter as if blinking away tears, and he can’t have that. Not here. 

“Hey,” he lifts her chin with his fingers and strokes her flushed cheek with his thumb. “Don’t get all tearful on me. You’re with me. I promise you, you belong here.”

From the frown curling on her lips, his words clearly aren’t working, so he shifts the conversation. “What do you dream of being? What do you want to do?” 

She opens her mouth but hesitates. 

“Promise you won’t think it’s stupid?”

“I promise.”

“I’d like to be a designer.” A small smile starts to cross her face. “A fashion designer with my own line and everything.” 

He could see a future where everyone in the Capitol wore her designs. Or not everyone. She was too good for that. All of his hard work has been put into helping her rise alongside him. If she wanted to do something, she had to be the best. 

“I think you would make a great designer.” Without a second thought, he presses a small kiss to her forehead. “I know you will. I’ve seen your work.”

A giggle falls from her lips, and affection blooms in his chest. Nowadays, he wonders if he could ever love someone. But love is so subjective. He had molded her into someone who would be fit to stand by him as he rose in the ranks. Isn’t that the closest thing there is to love? 

… 

“Here, let me help you.” 

The champagne has loosened her up, causing her to stumble on her feet. She leans against him and laughs when his arm hooks under her knees to carry her past the front door. 

“Such a gentleman.” She croons. “Always taking care of me.”

“It’s what I do best.” 

He sets her down on the edge of his bed so he can bend down to undo her heels. Without much thinking, he gently kisses the inside of her ankle. His eyes gaze up at her, gauging her reaction, and she shyly tells him, “I really want to kiss you right now.”

It’s as if something in him shifts. Coriolanus always harbored an attraction to her. On multiple occasions, he would fuck his fist after their little “tailoring” appointments, thinking about her on her knees, his cock stuffed in her mouth. Ever since she moved in, he’d sneak glances through the crack of her door, catching glimpses of her in stages of undress. He’s never acted upon it. His ego certainly wouldn’t be able to take the rejection, but now that she’s asking him to kiss her with those soft lips and glittering doe eyes, he’s safe to act on his desires. 

He surges forward, engulfing her in his hold. Hands cupping her face to keep her lips pressed against his. His teeth graze across her bottom lip, 

She smells like vanilla and roses, igniting that deep-seated hunger inside him. 

He has always hungered for power within the political spheres of Panem, but right now, his hunger is hyperfocused on her. To own her, to control her. 

He wants her to answer every beck and call. If he were to say jump, she would ask, ‘How high?’ If he asked her to crawl to him, she’d drag her delicate knees across whatever surface she stood on. He wants her to belong to him—mind, body, and soul. 

Their lips are locked together as her hands fumble to remove her dress. Sensing her struggle, he releases her face to help, undoing the ties around her neck. She carefully lets it fall off her body, letting the vibrant red silk pool around her feet. 

“I’ve never done this before.” She murmurs against his lips. “I haven’t done anything past kissing.” 

“Really?” He looks down at her and wants to coo in adoration when she shyly glances away. “No one’s ever touched you before?”

“Just… myself… and this one boy from the academy a few years ago but it was over our uniforms.” She hesitates, and he can feel his cock twitch in his pants. Coriolanus already owned most of her clothing, living space, and future career. It was all owed to him. But her virginity? He can truly make her his. His girl. 

He crawls on top of her, caging her in his arms. 

“I’ll be gentle. I promise.” 

His fingers trace her skin, from the line of her neck past her collarbones, dipping under the white lace underwear that clings to her hips. 

“These are pretty.” He flicks the rosette sewn to the center of the waistband. “Did you wear these for me?” 

“Maybe. I made them myself.” 

She lifts her hips, allowing him to slide them down her legs. They part, creating room for him to slot himself in between her knees. Her hands reach to remove his shirt, but he bats them away. 

“Just relax. I’ll take care of you.” 

As he unbuttons his shirt, he observes the way her chest rises and falls, how her lips are parted, and how her tongue darts out to lick at her lips in anticipation. 

His fingers push past her lips, pressing down on her eager tongue, already swirling over them. 

“Get them wet. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Her eyes close as she sucks on the digits. Saliva pools in her mouth, dripping past the corners of her lips. 

They are released with a pop, and Coriolanus groans, the strain in his pants becoming unbearable. 

Two of his wet fingers slide between her folds, teasing at her opening. A gasp slips past her parted lips at the feeling of his fingers pushing in. It was torturous how he managed to curl his fingers just right, eliciting a stifled whine from her lips. She pulls her hips away, overwhelmed by the stretch and the growing pressure inside of her. Though he knows she’s fingered herself before, his fingers must feel foreign, better than what she can do for herself. 

He pushes a third inside of her, opening her up, and he can feel how she flexes around him. She wraps her fingers around his wrist, trying to pull his hand away, but he persists, continuing to curl his fingers against that spot inside of her.

“Don’t fight it.” He demands, pistoning his fingers. “I’m just trying to make you feel good.” 

Her gasps and whines eventually turn into moans. She clenches around his fingers and bucks her hips forward as if her body is begging him for more. 

“I think,” She arches her back, and her voice becomes gaspy as if fighting to fill her lungs with air. “I think I’m close.” 

“Already?” He spits onto her clit and presses his thumb against it.  Electricity surges through her body as he rubs it in slow circles. She watches him with parted lips and shaky breathing as he fuels her oncoming orgasm. “Oh, you’re making this too easy for me.” 

Her head is thrown back, and a strangled moan falls from her lips—sticky arousal floods around his fingers, and her walls spasm around them. 

“There you go.” He soothes, pressing kisses to her cheek. “That feels good, huh?” 

She’s laid out on the comforter, chest heaving and skin flushed. Coriolanus grabs his stiff cock through his pants, trying to ease the growing tension. But he decides he can’t wait to give her a break. 

Her ears perk up at the metallic clink of him undoing his belt. 

“Corio, I- I don’t think-”

He shushes her with a kiss. 

“It’s alright, you can take it. Yeah? Remember what I promised?” 

“That you’d be gentle.” 

“That’s right.” He kicks off his pants and frees his cock from the confines of his briefs. “I’ve always been good to you, haven’t I?” 

She nods in agreement, eyes widening at the size of him. 

He licks his lips as he presses the tip against her cunt, slowly easing his cock inside of her. 

As he sheathes himself inside of her, he presses her thighs to her chest, forcing himself deeper into her warmth. 

She lets out a sharp cry and grabs his waist, trying to push him back. 

“You’re too big, Corio. I don’t think you’ll fit.” 

He hurries to kiss away her complaints. To distract her from the pain. He couldn’t wait. He needed to feel her. He needed her. Whispering against her lips, he soothes her. “You’re okay. I’ll go slow. Yeah?” 

Broken moans fall from her lips as he bottoms out. He groans in pleasure as her fingernails dig into his back, scrambling for some kind of purchase. She was so tight, so wet, and so warm, gripping onto him like a vice. 

Very carefully, he rocks his hips back and forth, letting her adjust to him. The sounds she makes, combined with the slick squelch of her cunt are obscene. Even with his slow movements, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to last long. 

He drops his lips to her neck, teeth grazing the fragile skin before biting down.

“Ah- please, don’t leave a mark.”

Disregarding her words, he sucks a slowly blooming bruise onto her neck. He doesn’t care if it’s dark. He wants people to see it and know who left it there. 

Maybe he does love her, he thinks. He loves how she complements him, her sweetness dampening his harsher attributes. He loves her creativity, her ambition, and how she always hungers to better herself. She’s perfect. She could be more than just a designer. She could be influential, a figure in the history of Panem. 

“I have an idea.” He hums against her neck, stilling his hips.

“Yeah?” 

“I want you to be part of the games.”

“What do you mean?” She impatiently shifts her hips, trying to get him to move again. 

“You can be a…” he pauses to think, looking into her blown-out pupils, “a stylist. You can design the tributes' looks for the opening ceremony and the interviews. Maybe we can implement uniforms for the actual games.” 

She pulls back, but he keeps her locked in place, hands grabbing at the flesh of her hips. Her eyes no longer look glazed over with lust. Instead, there’s a flash of clarity within them.

“No.” 

“What do you mean, no?”

“No, Corio.” Her voice is firm. She has her mind made up. “I won’t do it.” 

His lust begins to mix with anger. She can’t deny him. Not now, not ever. Not after everything he has done for her.

His hand reaches for her chin, and she whimpers. 

“Yes, you will because I’m not asking.”

“You can’t tell me what to do.” She struggles against his hold. “You don’t own me.”

“Don’t bite the hand that feeds you,” He snarls, fingers digging into her jaw. “I gave you this life, and I can easily take it away from you.”

“Let go of me, please.”  

Earlier promises of being gentle are tossed away. She’s beginning to let out pained squeaks from the pressure on her cheeks, and the hand on her hip digs into the soft flesh, creating red divots close to drawing blood. 

“Look at all that I have given you. All of your nice clothes and these fancy internships were because of me. Without me, you’d be freezing to death in that shed you used to live in.” He pulls his hips back and slams his cock back into her dripping cunt, eliciting a cry from her. “I made you who you are.” He cruelly bullies his cock into her, picking up his speed every time her hands weakly try to push him away. “All you have to do is be good for me, and I’ll give you whatever you want.” He forces her to look at him, to stare into her glassy eyes. “Are you going to be good?”

She doesn’t reply, or rather, she can’t. All she could do was strain against him with dark, mascara-stained tears rolling down her cheeks. 

Those eyes that once gazed upon him with fondness are now filled with fear. 

“Are you going to be good?” He punctuates his words with a hand to her throat, giving it a light squeeze. It’s enough pressure to establish a threat but not enough to take away her ability to breathe.  

Her teary eyes blink, and she nods. 

“Yes,” She whispers. “I’ll be good.”

“So,” He slows his movements and brings his lips to her ear, warm breath tickling her skin. “What do you say? 

Once again, he circles her sensitive clit with his thumb. 

She sobs, clenching around him, and he can tell that she’s close to cumming again. 

“You’re not going to cum until you answer me.” 

“Please, Corio, don’t make me decide. Not right now.”

“I want-” He groans, feeling himself falling close to the edge. “I need an answer.” 

She sobs and tries to look away, but the hand on her face won’t let her. 

“Please.”

His face moves closer to hers, her hot breath fanning his cheeks. 

“I can feel you clenching around me, and I know you can’t hold it in. Give me an answer now.” More tears stream down her face, and she squeezes her eyes shut. “If you cum before giving me an answer, I’ll ruin this pretty cunt.”

There’s a second of silence, save for the sound of his skin slapping against hers before she nods. 

“Yes,” she whispers. 

“Yes, what?” 

“I’ll do it.” 

He quickens his pace, chasing after his own pleasure, and she all but screams. 

The fire in his burns, ready to overtake him, but something isn’t right. 

“Open your eyes.” He demands. “I want you to look at me when I fill you up.” 

She blinks her eyes open, all wide and wet, and he’s unable to hold back. Tightening his hold on her, he forces his hips against her own, burying his cock to the hilt and releasing inside of her. She flutters around him, desperate gasps for air falling from her wanting mouth as she cums with him. 

They stay in this position, both trying to catch their breath. Coriolanus is the first to pull away, rubbing her thighs to loosen the tired muscles. 

She lays there, surrounded by his fluffy white sheets, saying nothing. He gently kisses her cheek, attempting to pull an answer from her, but when it proves unsuccessful, he leaves to draw a bath. 

… 

“You don’t have class tomorrow, right?” 

The question draws her out of her gaze, now realizing she’s curled up in the tub with her knees drawn to her chest. The water is warm, cloudy, almost milky, and smells like roses. She couldn't bear to look at him right now, but she managed to force an answer from her lips. 

“No,” she fights the urge to flinch when his fingers brush her hair away from her neck. “It’s my day off.”

“Good.” Coriolanus dips the washcloth in the tub and gently wipes it against her skin. “You’ll come with me to see Dr. Gaul. Bring your portfolio.”

Her body shudders at the thought of meeting the woman, but more notably, knowing that the man she held so much love for was nothing like the man he portrayed himself to be. 

She once thought that he was her patron, but the truth was that he was her owner. All of the riches she had gained this past year meant nothing now. They weren’t hers. They were his. He had given her a life of safety where she could flourish and provide for her family, but it was one separated from the world she once knew. Her parents and friends from the fabric shop were replaced by the same obscenely wealthy elite who would have thumbed their nose at her if it weren’t for the proximity to him. 

Every gentle brush of his fingers on her skin reminds her of what he’s done to her. How he now owns her.

Her mind falls to a lecture from a year ago. It was about evolution and apex predators. The boa, she remembers, was nonvenomous but deadly, wrapping themselves around their prey, squeezing their bodies until their circulation stopped and their lungs could no longer pull any oxygen. What’s more chilling, she thinks, is that they know to monitor their heartbeat, waiting for their heart to stop before swallowing them whole. 

He’s wrapped himself around her, tightening his hold. She knows she can struggle, but he won’t loosen his grip. He’ll just constrict around her, tighter and tighter, until there’s no more room for her to fight—no more room to breathe. 

“I’ve been very sweet on you, and I can keep doing that.” He hums. “But, I can be cruel as well. You and I both know I don’t want to do that.” 

Finally, she finds the courage to look at him; those blue eyes are now colder than ever. 

She tries to whisper, but when he raises a brow, she clears her throat and meekly responds. 

“Thank you, Coriolanus. For everything.”