#all these fucking adults like to bully me about MY hair

[moonlit-orchid]

good evening to everyone except a certain few fucking anons

[erisolkat]

god i hate everyone

[livwritesstuff]

Steve’s oldest daughter Moe is unusually quiet on the drive home from her college apartment in New York City.

She was supposed to be doing this drive with her younger sister Robbie (who had bullied Steve and Eddie into letting her bring a car with her to college), but then Robbie and her friends had actually managed to squirrel away enough money for an impromptu trip to D.C. for their spring break, and Moe had still wanted to visit home even without a ride.

Steve had made a whole show acting all put out over having to make the four hour drive between her school in NYC and their house in the Massachusetts suburbs (twice, he’ll add — he’s been on the road for six hours so far with a couple more to go) but, truthfully, there isn’t much he wouldn’t do to spend time with his kids, especially since the older two have firmly graduated to young-adult status, and he easily could have put her on a train.

“So what’s goin’ on with you, Moe?” he finally asks when the quiet stretches a little to far.

Moe shrugs, and then she says, “I was wondering something.”

“Go for it.”

“You and Dad, like…you were older when you started dating, right?”

Steve pauses for a moment, allowing himself to consider what might qualify as older to his twenty-one-year-old daughter. 

“I guess it depends on what you mean by older,” he settles on telling her.

“I mean, you weren’t in high school anymore, even though you knew each other in high school.”

“Yeah,” Steve nods, “I was halfway through grad school, so twenty-six, I think, and you know Dad’s not even a year older than me.”

Moe nods in return, and  then she asks, “And you were friends before anything else happened? Like, for a while?”

“Uh-huh,” Steve replies, “Dad, and Aunt Nancy, and Aunt Robin were my best friends. Still are, obviously, just…different over time.”

“But, like, how–” Moe stops, and Steve can tell without needing to look away from the road to check the way her eyebrows are furrowed, the way they’re crinkled in the middle just like they always are on the rare occasions Moe can’t find the words she needs. She lets out a short exhale, “How did you know that it changed?” Before Steve can answer, Moe shakes her head, “How did you know that what you were feeling wasn’t, like, friend things anymore? Or, like, that it was more than just friend things.”

“Uh,” Steve pauses, running a hand through his hair, “Honestly, Nancy kind of told me.”

Moe’s head turns in his direction.

“Aunt Nancy told you?” she asks, “Pop…that’s so lame.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happened.”

“Why?”

Steve thinks about it for a second. It’s funny, he doesn’t actually put too much thought into that time in his life – the seven years that had lapsed between becoming friends with Eddie in the aftermath of everything with the Upside Down and when they’d finally gotten together. That was nearly thirty years ago, after all, and Steve hasn’t ever really been the type to dwell on the past. He takes a moment to dwell on it now and remembers how long it had taken him to notice the dull ache behind his ribs and the anxious somersault his stomach had done every time Eddie so much as looked his way.

“I mean – yeah, you’re right. It’s…it’s not easy when you’re close with someone for a long time and then the way you feel about them changes, because, you know, it’s not – I mean, it’s not like it changes overnight. It’s gradual, so…yeah, it’s not easy.”

“Yeah,” she quietly agrees.

“Nance, just – well, you know Nance. She just clocked it before I did, and I guess she didn’t have the patience to wait it out. Once I knew though, it was, like, super fucking obvious. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t known before.”

Moe’s laugh is nervous in a way Steve isn’t sure he’s ever heard before, and if there’s a friend of Moe’s she might be feeling differently for, he thinks he might have an idea which one. Moe is a hell of a lot smarter than him though, and this conversation is telling enough that she won’t need things spelled out for her in the way he had with Eddie thirty years ago.

“It was hard,” he continues, because he has a feeling Moe might need to hear more even if she isn’t asking for anything specific, “I – I mean, I actually liked dating when I was your age, believe it or not. I thought it was fun, or whatever, and it wasn’t really a thing that made me nervous, you know? With your dad, though…shit, I was terrified, because it’s a different kind of risk than just shooting your shot with someone you run into and hit it off with.”

Moe nods.

“I think the reason it’s so freaky is because falling for someone you’re friends with is never just a crush. I knew there was something big there. I know you guys hate when Dad and I are all sappy, but he was never just some guy I was dating. He was it for me from the very beginning.”

Moe mumbles something under her breath that Steve doesn’t quite catch.

“What was that?”

“I don’t hate it,” she says, her voice still pretty low, and Steve knows that must have been difficult for her to admit so he doesn’t comment on it (though he will be telling Eddie as soon as he possibly can – obviously).

“Well, I’m just saying,” he replies, “I wasn’t feeling that way for nothing, and things turned out pretty good in the end. If someone was in a similar situation, I’d tell them…” he pauses, and then laughs as he says, “I’d tell them to not wait seven years to get a good thing started.”

“Alright,” she replies, “I’ll…yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.”

[aventurinespuppy]

bully scaramouche x gn reader (part two)

CW: smut, mentions of bullying, dubcon, sub reader, gn reader, choking, slapping, biting, cumming inside, doing it in a classroom, blacking out

WC: ~1.3k

AN: this has been sitting in my drafts for SOO long cuz i had to muster up the confidence to write a sex scene LMAOO i kinda went wild with this one but please enjoy

He lowers his voice and speaks in a sultry tone. "I've taken quite the liking to you." His hand drops to hold your throat and leans closer to your ear. "How about you be mine?"

You scoff and peel his hand off of your neck.

"Are you kidding me?"

He chuckles and steps back from you, allowing you a tiny smidge of space.

"Why won't you look at me, hm? Scared you won't be able to resist after seeing my handsome face?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" You turn around to look at him and glance at the door behind him, wondering if you had bitten off more than you could chew. He notices your gaze shifting to the door.

"Surely you're not thinking of leaving already? You're the one who brought me here after all."

You bring your attention back to him and make eye contact with him, sighing as you take note of his cocky smirk. You brace yourself with a deep breath and speak as steadily as your nerves allow you.

"I've gotten lots of complaints about you from both students and teachers" You pause to observe his reaction, continuing when he stays silent. "Since I'm the school council president, you fall under my responsibility." He doesn't stop looking at you the entire time you speak and you falter slightly under his intense gaze. "So, um.. I'd appreciate if you brushed up on your behaviour."

He seems to genuinely take in what you say and you internally celebrate, hopeful that he'll agree and reduce your future workload. It was hard work always cleaning up his messes after all.

"Quite demanding, aren't we? I'll consider it if you do a favour for me."

You quirk an eyebrow up at him and he grins down at you. You mentally prepare for his next words. God forbid if he asks you to do his homework for the next month. You had enough on your plate.

"If you let me fuck you, I might just stop."

His words come out naturally, as if this was a normal request to make. Your eyes widen and you take a moment to process his words. Did you hear him right?

"W-What? Are you insane?" You back up and hit the table behind you, gripping onto the edge of it as to not lose your footing. He chuckles at your speechlessness and takes a step toward you, leaving you no space to move.

"Maybe I am. Now will you let me fuck you or not? I don't have all day to wait for you to decide."

You lean back as much as you can and turn away, distancing yourself from him. Seemingly unhappy with the newly added space between the two of you, he leans in again and cages you in between his arms. Your eyes wander all over the room, looking anywhere but at him.

"W-We can't.." You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a noise somewhat akin to a squeak when you feel him take a strand of your hair and twirl it around. He murmurs softly to you.

"We can't? We're both adults here and I've seen the way you look at me. Don't pretend you don't want this too."

You look into his eyes, filled with desire. He glances down at your lips and you at his. It doesn't take much more before you're both leaning in to capture each other's lips in a hungry kiss.

Your fingers play with his hair and his hands wander to your waist. He pushes you down onto the table, one hand behind your head to make sure you don't hurt yourself. You chuckle to yourself at this sweet gesture. He pulls away and starts kissing down your neck.

"What're you laughin' at, huh?" he mumbles agains your skin. His breath tickles your neck and you giggle again.

"Nothing, just.. didn't know there was a soft side to you."

He bites down hard on your neck at this and you wince.

"What was that for?!"

"I'll show you how rough I can be and you'll regret calling me soft."

He leans back in for a rough kiss and starts unbuttoning your shirt. You get the hint and unbuckle your belt, but as you start to wiggle out of your pants, he grabs your wrist and stops you.

"Leave it on. The door's still unlocked y'know."

You glare at him, silently telling him to let go of you so you could lock the door properly and he chuckles, tightening his grip on your wrists.

"That's it.. Keep looking at me with that look on your face. Makes me wanna ruin you all the more."

He lets go of your wrists and turns you around to face away from him and before you can question what he's doing, he presses your face into the table and you groan out from the force. You scold him to be more careful and you receive no response as he moves to pull your pants down just enough to expose your eager hole.

Without warning, he sticks a finger in, poking around your insides as you struggle to suppress your sounds. He notices this and tries even harder to pull some noises out of you, adding another finger and stretching you out with a scissoring motion.

"Stop teasing, you asshole.. Put it in already." You say through gritted teeth. To emphasise how badly you need him, you wiggle your hips enticingly, which only earns you a harsh smack on the ass.

"Patience is a virtue. One you clearly lack, my dear." And with that, he pulls out his fingers, leaving you empty, but not for long as he abruptly thrusts his cock into you. You curse him out and grip the edge of the table, unprepared for the intrusion, and he laughs at you.

"What was that earlier? You could never like me? Hah.. Don't make me laugh. Look at you now, drooling over my cock and I haven't even started moving yet."

"You talk too much.." You mumble and he slaps your ass again, making you jolt. He grabs onto the fat of your hip roughly and his other hand wraps around your throat as he starts pulling out slowly, only to harshly slam his cock back into you.

He continues with this slow but rough pace for a while until you beg for him to "go faster!!", to which he rolls his eyes but obliges.

A mix of lewd, wet noises and the both of your groans and moans fills the classroom, the both of you getting lost in the pleasure and forgetting that you're still in school. You could've sworn you heard some footsteps coming down the corridor, just stopping outside your classroom, but who knows? You were certainly too far gone to care.

He fucks you mercilessly, not letting up on his harsh pace at all, abusing your poor hole and you're sure you'll be feeling the effects tomorrow, but right now, all you could think about sucking his cock back into your greedy hole.

You feel his breath tickle your ear as he leans down to talk to you and you vaguely hear him say something along the lines of.. cumming inside? Your cockdrunk brain can barely hear, let alone process what he's saying to you, only begging for more pleasure and you hear his melodious laugh ring beside you as you realises you're completely in subspace.

At some point you swear your vision blacks and the next thing you know, you wake up, confused and alone. Blinking a few times, you try to regain your senses and look around. Anger and embarrassment paint your face red as you remember what happened. You scan the room for your clothes and you find them folded in a neat pile, with your phone on top. Your phone screen lights up and you squint to read the top message:

'I'll be seeing you again, my lovely council president.' - Unknown

---------------------------------------------------------

@drthymby

[babygorewhore]

His Little Angel

After watching your favorite Only fans member, one who wears a Ghostface mask, you wish you could see him in real life. When you attend Midsummer, you’re shocked at who’s the owner of that voice. Rafe Cameron.

Moodboard

Disclaimer: Girl in photo is just for aesthetic! I don’t look like that myself so it’s okay lol

Warnings! Female and male masterbation! Porn! Mask kink! Degrading! Blow Job!! No plot. Very little proof reading

Your clit was swollen and sore as your vibrator relentlessly moved , your eyes squeezed shut. Another night on only fans, moaning loud enough that you almost scared yourself and your spine curled on the bed.

“My pretty little angel, coming on my cock? Your pretty pussy is so soft, I can’t get enough.” His voice was addictive. Even if it was just from your phone.

After the third time, you finally pulled it away and panted. Your naked sweaty body underneath your cool room brought you to clean yourself up with a discarded shirt. You liked it messy but you didn’t want it completely running down your legs.

Ghostface just had that effect on you. He was your favorite Only fans star.

You had subscribed last month, paying the maximum amount of money to get the most exclusive content. Personal messages and his own nickname for you. Little Angel or Angel. Which was the ironic purpose because you were anything but. Every night spreading your legs eagerly to a man in a mask. He wore others but this one was your favorite. He wouldn’t reveal his face.

But he was tall, muscular with strong, long fingers and a thick, pulsing cock he finished stroking and cum spilled from the tip at the end of the video.

God, you wanted to blow him. Choke on whatever he gave you with no complaints. His voice was raspy and almost pleading at times.

But he was dominant. Everything you did was to his will.

You did exchange one picture with him. One where you were wearing your prettiest bra and panties after you came. Your cheeks were red, hair messy and your eyes glassy. You needed him to see the effect he had on you.

“Pretty little angel. Fucked out for me. You’re so fucking hot and so wet.” His message was always teasing. Ending just when you needed them to reach their peak. He did it on purpose.

You had a fantasy. Him breaking into your house with the mask, tying you to the bed and ripping off the mask before he buried his face in your cunt. The very idea caused your pussy to quiver. You watched another video and came again

Midsummer was the last thing you wanted to participate in. Even though you were technically a Kook, you hated the snobby assholes who looked down at anyone beneath them. Your parents weren’t like that, even when they worked closely with the worst of them.

The Cameron’s. The very name of the family made you want to gag. Okay, you hadn’t met them but you heard horror stories from Kiera, a girl you used to babysit as a teenager when she was in middle school, that they were evil. Especially the oldest. Rafe. He was a bully, stuck up and always got what he wanted. Including the company when Ward died on a tragic suicide on his own boat.

You wore a long, slick dress with high heels and a flower crown. Your hair spilling around your face and sweat proof makeup.

You felt pretty even though you dread seeing all these people. They knew you as a little girl, running around and following your rich parents. But you were so much more than that, especially as an adult.

Kiera waved at you and you returned it with a smile. The twinkling lights, gentle music and sunset was a beautiful picture as the dance floor filled. But your mind thought about Ghostface. What was he doing right now? Working his regular job? Planning more content? For you? Your cheeks warmed with memories. How dirty was that? Thinking about fucking a man in a mask while sweet couples swayed on the wood floor in front of you?

A few men offered to dance and you accepted. Awkwardly staring at their faces as they moved their hands too low on your waist but it was the most action you got in months other than your toys.

You were bored now. You had a fake smile, stood next to your parents for an hour before you decided to change scenery.

The inside of the house wasn’t as crowded but people still talked while holding drinks in clear glasses. A variety of ages were there, especially with staff. You recognized Topper, he used to be close with the Cameron’s before their daughter stayed with the Pouges. But currently he and a black male were talking shit to a blonde boy carrying a tray of drinks.

Frowning, you went to follow them to stop the scene when your father called you over, you didn’t know they came in.

“Sweetheart, I want you to meet someone!” Turning, your eyes widened.

Rafe Cameron, who was wearing a blue tux gave you an alluring dark look and smile. His hair was slicked back, exposing his perfect bone structure and pink lips. He loomed over you and even your dad with his height as you stood in the circle.

“Hi,” You clipped and stuck out your hand. His large hand was warm and strong as he shook yours.

“Rafe was just telling us how nice it was to finally see you after hearing so much, weren’t you?” Your mothers intentions were obvious as you tried not to roll your eyes. Yeah, he’s hot but he’s also an asshole.

“You’re as pretty as an angel.”

You stumbled back, slipping onto the floor, legs bent as you fell on the floor.

“Oh god! Baby, are you okay?” Your dad gasped.

Oh my god. His voice.

The nickname??

This couldn’t be real. This could not happen. Rafe was faster and wrapped his arm around your waist, bending down to lift you to your feet. He brought you close, almost chest to chest as his hand settled on your hip. “Are you okay?”

You swallowed hard and started stuttering. “Um-I’m okay I-uh you-“ You snapped your mouth shut as he gave you a smirk. Oh, he knew you alright. You sent him a fucking picture after you touched yourself to his porn and now he was holding you up.

Tightly.

“Here, I’ll take her to make sure she’s alright.” Rafe told your parents, his brows pulled together in concern-real or not as your mother nodded.

“Oh you’re such a gentleman,” She gave you a subtle pinch on your arm as his arm tightened around your body.

You expected him to just walk you to the nearest room but instead he picked you up bridal style, your feet flying as he secured you easily.

Was this really happening? Rafe Cameron was Ghostface on Only fans and now he was carrying you down a hallway where there wasn’t anyone to be found.

“My little angel, acting like such a sweet girl. No one knows how much of a slut you actually are.” He popped open a door, exposing an empty room with a table and chairs after whispering in your ear, his teeth gently grazing the skin.

You breathed sharply as he set you down, pushing your legs apart with his knee. “I’ve been dying to finally fuck this mouth that’s always moaning for me,” He growled. “This time without that fucking mask.”

“Rafe-“ You began but he shoved two fingers in your mouth to the back of your throat. His warm breath fanning your face as spit pooled from your mouth.

You gagged and rolled your head back. He’d made himself spill with this exact hand. He circled them slowly. “I’ve been wondering how that sounded from you.”

Without warning he grabbed a fist full of your hair and forced you from the table onto your knees. “And now, my angel is going to be my fucking whore.” He growled and tapped your cheek after pulling out his digits.

“Open that filthy mouth and do exactly what you’re made for.”

Your polished nails frantically moved to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his suit pants. His black boxers made him look like a model on a men’s magazine as his hard dick leaked precum as you pulled them down. It hung heavily in front of you as your cunt tightened around nothing.

Rafe took a hold of his cock and slapped your cheek with it. “Stick out your tongue,” He ordered and you obeyed. You wanted to please him. Be used by him and his commands were so fucking hot you could have came in your panties just from that.

Hearing his voice again stirred a raging fire inside you as you opened your mouth and sucked him like a lollipop. You pulled back to sloppily lick the sides, a pool of spit on your neck as your lips took him in. Rafes fingers in your hair pulled so tight more tears streamed down your face and stained your cheeks with makeup.

He started thrusting and hitting the back of your throat as he started fucking your face. “Such a fucking little slut. Not an angel anymore, huh? A cock sucking bitch.” His degradation only turned you on more as you slurped and took it.

“I’m always taking care of you, now you get to return the fucking favor.” Rafe grunted and pulled even harder. “I’m gonna cum down your slutty throat.”

True to his word, he spilled into and all over your mouth. When he finally let you go, you coughed and wiped your lips. Lipstick was all over the back of your hand. Rafe took out his phone as he adjusted himself back into his pants. A flash clicked and you leaned back, doe eyes wide.

“Now, I have my own little picture when I jerk off.” He gave you a wink and bent down, “And don't wipe your face. Everyone is gonna know exactly who’s cock you’ve sucked.”

Tagging @xxhellfirebunnyxx @scene-and-dandylover @drewstarkeyslut @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @imyourdaninow @slvt4jamesmarch @reidsbtch @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @chrrymunson

If I didn’t tag someone forgot.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Perfect.

Pairing/AU: Soft Boyfriend!Joel Miller X Curvy AFAB!reader , no outbreak.

Words count: 3612, One shot.

Summary: Basically Joel worshipping you and your curvy body ❤️

Warning: +18 only because there is a little bit of smut in the end (Joel 🍽️😺), nothing too serious but still. Reader is curvy, has wide hips, big breasts, has hair (not specified how long or what color it is or anything), has a freckle above her upper lip. Age not mentioned but they’re both fully grown adults. Joel is the cutest and loves you deeply like anyone has ever done before. (If I did things right you will end up crying a little bit, hopefully)

We talk about not accepting ourselves, seeing ourselves as ugly, having a bad relationship with a parent (mom), briefly about bullying and in general about how society perceives non-conforming bodies and how sometimes we convince ourselves that we are wrong. I don't go into much depth but there are still some passages that I feel are truly mine, so you are warned. I don’t want to trigger you, I want you to feel beautiful and valid and one of a kind and special. All of you.

I was toying myself with the idea of a story about Joel and a curvy reader and this came out. I wrote this at 2am after listening to “Pedro” and “Glow” by Omar Apollo with tears streaming down my face, it’s probably full of mistakes (English is not my first language, no beta reader because it’s 2 fucking am and I should sleep like everybody else in my time zone instead of doing this DAMN!) so I beg your pardon, my brain is a mess right now.

Most of all, I hope you will like it, let me know! Thanks to anyone who will read this.

You wake up in bed alone and you stretch your arm on the other side of the bed feeling it empty and cold.

Joel is out for work, meeting a big potential client who wants to renovate his huge mansion.

Obviously he has to try to get the job, but you feel like he's been forever away when he's only been gone for two days.

Your bed feels so large without him in it.

You grab his pillow to try to inhale his scent, just a little tiny bit of him that still lingers on it.

Your man smells amazing, even when he come home after a full day of working in a construction site you’re madly aroused by the minty, sweet, sweaty essence of him.

You don’t care that he’s covered in dust and rubble, you just throw yourself in his arms and take his mouth that rightfully belongs to you and only you and you feel so lucky and blessed to have him in your life.

You had so much troubles with your love life.

You’ve never been skinny, to begin with.

You always had a discomfort with your appearance, your friends were tiny and cute while you were just standing there being ignored.

You had a very almond mother that didn’t waste a chance to remind you how big you are, how much you need to take diet more seriously and become the skinny person every guy wants to marry.

You suffered from that until you were an adult and you could afford going to therapy.

It helped you a lot.

Embracing your body and shape was a long and difficult process but it was worth it.

You gained so much confidence and learned how to be kind to yourself.

But you still had difficulty with boys, growing up you learned to notice strange guys at first glance, after a series of failures with gym fanatics who wanted to change you, older men who wanted to control you and cowards who kept you hidden as if they were ashamed of you.

And then, one day, you met Joel.

While you were looking at him from the other side of the bar too shamed to do anything he walked towards you.

You immediately thought that he was coming to talk to your skinny friend that was with you but no.

He wanted to spoke to you.

That big strong man, broad chest and shoulders, wavy dark brown hair and eyes like the most delicious chocolate cake introduced himself and asked if you wanted something else to drink and the last thing you know you two were talking about everything for 3 hours straight, totally immersed in each other.

You barely noticed that your friend tap your shoulder to tell you that she was going home.

You mentally took a note to apologize profusely to her the following day but you really didn’t want to leave.

It felt too good to be with Joel, talking to him was so easy and he melted your heart in a way you didn’t experience in a long time.

You really didn’t want to give up on him.

You have so much in common with him and he made you laugh and you felt cute and confident and it really worked like magic.

He made sure to compliment your outfit and your hair and your pretty eyes and he made you feel so good about yourself.

You noticed the way he was smiling and looking so intensely at you, he was hungry and turned on by you.

You couldn’t believe that this handsome man was so into you but couldn’t ask for anything better.

You never really parted ways after that first night together, he was a perfect gentleman, took you home on his truck and he never tried to touch you until the two of you arrived at your door.

He was saying goodnight to you when you heard him whisper “oh fuck it” and he kissed you, no longer holding back. It was a perfect kiss, full of desire and passion and you could feel his need for more through his lips and the way his tongue found its way into your mouth.

You felt vulnerable and weak as if he really saw you, beyond appearances, beyond fences that you have built to defend yourself, in the most hidden part of yourself. And you didn’t mind feeling that way in front of a man, in front of him.

You knew it was right.

You could feel it in your bones.

You wanted to drag him inside the house but you stopped just in time before completely losing control.

“I don’t do this at first date, you know” you whispered in his ear while he was kissing your neck giving you shivers down your spine.

His mouth was eager and insatiable, nipping at your skin like he was starved, but again, he was a real gentleman and didn’t do anything you didn’t wanted.

He was fully respectful of your boundaries and conquered your heart with patience.

At your fifth date you were so thirsty for him that you couldn’t even get to the restaurant.

He knocked at the door dressed in dark blue jeans and a white t-shirt that hugged his biceps and his chest in a way that drove you completely wild, you took his hand without saying a word and run to the bedroom dragging him with you with no shame whatsoever.

You didn’t care about manners, dinner that was booked the week before, whatever else that could delay that moment.

You just wanted him.

You felt safe with him and this made you even more horny.

He fucked you wildly and then cuddled with you in the sweetest way ever.

Your heart was full, your body soothed and your thirst quenched.

You moved in together after 6 months of the most fulfilling relationship you had ever had.

Joel has his flaws, he is stubborn, when he is angry he can barely speak and mutters under his breath, he doesn't know how to cook, he's messy and leaves his dirty socks on the carpet in the living room, sometimes he's way too protective and it drives you crazy the way he always tries to warn you off from everyone as if you're not used to assholes.

Minor things compared to how he makes you feel anyway.

When he loves, he loves deeply.

He showers you with compliments and nice gestures, he’s a grumpy with a heart of gold.

And he’s handsome. So handsome you can’t believe that he’s your man even if he makes sure to tell you how beautiful, smart and sexy you are everyday.

You yawn and finally decide to get up, you head to the kitchen and make yourself a coffee.

It’s Saturday and Joel is supposed to come home in a few hours.

After breakfast you do some chores and cleaning around the house.

You go to the supermarket to buy ingredients to make his favorite dinner.

And then you decide to take the afternoon to yourself, you take a long bath and relax in the tub listening to music lulled by the hot water and the scent of bubble bath.

Once out, you decide to wear the dress you wore on your first date with Joel.

You remember perfectly how he looked at you and you feel a shiver down your spine. You haven't worn it for a while and as soon as you put it on you discover that it is too tight on your breasts and hips. You know you've gained a few pounds since you've been with him, you're relaxed, you're happy, you don't care, but you really wanted to give him a perfect evening and this makes you nervous. You look in the mirror and fall back into all the negative thoughts about yourself. It's a fragile balance.

You're still navigating the middle of it, even though you're much better.

You take off the dress and put it back in the closet, hidden, where you can barely see it, hoping bad mood will pass even though you know it has completely ruined your day.

You start cooking, leaving the decision on what to wear until later.

You like cooking and have always been successful at it, your grandma shared all her recipes with you and teached you all her secrets.

Your mother just told you the calories in everything you cooked.

When everything is ready you go to get dressed, you stare at your clothes for what seems like an infinite amount of time, sighing. In the end you choose another dress, black, narrower at the waist and wider at the hips. It leaves your legs uncovered, it's not like the other one but it still suits you so you make the best of it.

You’re spraying yourself with your favorite perfume when you hear the keys turning in the lock and you instinctively run to the door.

As soon as he opens the door you don't even give him time to enter and you throw your arms around his neck.

“Hi sweetheart” he whispers in your ear as he wraps his arms around your waist, holding you tight against his chest “did you miss me?”

You can hear a little laugh in his voice as you reply “of course, I couldn't wait for you to come back”

You take his lips with urgency and just feeling his scruff brushing gently against your cheeks and your cupid bow makes you feel better.

He tastes sweet, he’s warm and familiar.

He never fails to make you whole.

When you're with him it feels like the world is turning right, like things are all falling into place, magically.

One look is enough for him to understand you.

His tongue makes room into your mouth so easily and intertwined with yours and you’re lost in his embrace.

When you finally part to take breath he’s grinning and watching at you with burning desire in his eyes.

“I missed you too. Let me see you, sweetie. I want to admire my beautiful babe in this dress”

You instantly feel better and do a pirouette laughing to make him look at you.

“Jesus, hun, it’s really amazing on you”

You walk up to him and give him a kiss on the hairless part of his beard, then take his lips again.

You moan into his mouth when his hands move to your ass, stroking it gently then squeezing it.

“I love your ass babe, so full and juicy and soft”

You whine at his praise, kissing his jawline and his neck.

You rest your face on his chest enjoying his warmth.

“It's amazing how you always make me feel better. I felt like crap a few hours ago." you murmur.

“Why, love, what happened?” you can clearly hear concern in his voice.

“I wanted to wear the dress I wore the first time we went out…but it's too tight now” you whisper, a little bit ashamed.

He cups your face with his hands, looking at you with sweetness.

An incredible sweetness that instantly melt your heart.

“Don’t be sad babe, a dress is just a dress, it doesn’t fit you anymore? Who cares. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and I’m so lucky to have you”

You want to cry, but you don't, instead you take his lips back into yours, grateful to have a man like that by your side.

No one has ever made you feel more loved than him.

You kiss him intensely, so much that you're almost breathless, but it doesn't matter.

You feel his erection pressing against your thigh and you can't wait any longer, you even forget about dinner already being prepared and he doesn't seem worried either.

“Can we go to our bedroom already? I need you so bad, Joel” you pant against his skin.

“Whatever my love wants” and he take you by the hand “I definitely need to remind you how much I love you and how incredibly sexy and lovely you are. Come with me”

He takes you to your bedroom without stopping to hold your hand and makes you sit on the edge of the bed.

He looks you in the eyes as he caresses your cheek with his knuckles. It's incredible how delicate his big hands can be.

He trace the outline of your jaw with his fingertips never stop looking at you.

He then moves to your neck, placing his hand right under your ear, his fingers hidden in your hair.

He leans down to kiss your nose and your lips, so softly.

“Babe, you’re the most precious thing I have in my life, I don’t know what I would do without you”.

His voice is low, slightly hoarse, it surrounds you like a hug, it goes straight to your heart, every little intonation that characterizes it, how it glides over the vowels and caresses the consonants, his breathing, that warmth that emanates, that sense of familiarity and comfort, his sensitivity and his inner strength and his fragility that he is not afraid to show.

He lowers the straps of your dress and makes you stand up just for a moment to let it fall at your feet, sliding it over your hips.

He makes you lie down on the bed, while he also undresses, remaining in his boxers. He climbs onto the bed and lies down next to you.

“Never forget how gorgeous you are, please”

His hand slides over your breast, still covered by your bra, he searches for your nipple and takes it between his fingers, pinching and pulling it gently.

“I love your tits, so big and perfectly shaped” and he kisses you there. “I love your pretty face, and your smile and your sparkling eyes and your luscious lips.” Each word is followed by a kiss on the body part he just mentioned “And your silky hair. And this freckle right here. Above your upper lip. I would do nothing but kiss it all the time. I love the smell of your skin and your taste, so sweet.”

You can't believe he's doing this, he's literally worshipping every part of you.

“I love your incredibly sexy hips and thighs."

His lips move over you like velvet, like butterflies flapping their wings on your skin, so impalpable and yet so real.

“I love every inch of your body, especially those that seem too much to you. And of course I love your intelligence and how you laugh at my stupid jokes that never make anyone laugh. I love that you’re funny and sarcastic. I love the little wrinkle that comes between your eyebrows when you concentrate. I love the way you squint when I say something about my work that you don’t know. I love the way you look at me, I love hugging you and feeling your breathtaking body on mine.”

Joel isn't one for many words, he generally prefers action but now he's a river in flood and looks at you haunted.

It's an incredible feeling to have him all to yourself, to have the certainty of being able to trust him blindly, without the fear that he will turn out to be like everyone else you've been with.

No one has ever treated you this way before, with devotion, as if your body were a priceless treasure.

You yourself were mean to this body, you hated it, you tried to change it, you cursed it and cried because it didn't look like anyone else's when the only thing you wanted was to be like one of your friends.

Thin. Impeccable. Someone who fits any dress and who has never heard "we don't have your size". One who wasn't laughed at, treated like a joke, one who everyone looked up to, one whose face people didn't throw pies at and call a whale or a monster.

Joel knows all this. You told him. And everything he's ever tried to do is exactly the opposite of what they've always done to you.

An ode of love to you, to your body, to your soul.

He moves between your knees, settling at the end of the bed.

He leaves a trail of kisses along your inner thighs moving up and up towards your pussy, his beard deliciously rough on your skin.

He smiles at your already wet panties, at the unmistakable stain that spreads across the front.

You wore a cute white lacy pair with matching bra that he bought to you last Christmas.

You sigh in anticipation as he takes the time to stroke and tease your clit through the fabric with just one finger.

He then slides his fingers into the sides of your panties, he makes your hips rise slightly and takes them off, smiling at you.

You gasp as he buries his face between your legs kissing your folds so softly, he stick his tongue out and lick your lips and then part them with two fingers and kiss your clit.

You moan loudly and feel his smile widening on your skin, he’s so good at this and he knows that you love the way he does it.

He takes your clit in his mouth and suck gently.

“You’re so wet babe” and he kiss your lips again “so good for me, the perfect woman”

He teases your hole with his tongue, just the tip, while his thumb circle around your clit.

Nice and slow, a steady pace that makes you whimper against his face.

You grab his hair pushing him even more against your pussy, whining in pleasure.

You feel his beard crawling across your skin, you know it will redden your skin but you don't care, you don't care about anything now.

He continues to lick you, up and down and then back to your clit, his large hand splayed on your tummy.

You've always been ashamed of your tummy.

He adores it. He always tells you, he likes to touch it and he likes to kiss it and he loves that it’s so soft and fluffy.

He groans as you tug his hair and increases the pace, making his way into your hole with two of his thick fingers, stretching you and searching for the spongy spot that always makes you feel on fire.

You raise your head slightly to look at him and see his eyes staring at you mischievously and proudly, he likes looking at you, he doesn't want to miss a second of your pleasure.

He’s again on your clit with his mouth, swirling around it with his tongue.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you, you whine again and again more and more loudly.

He doesn’t stop.

“Joel I-” your voice cracks in an attempt to say something “God, I just can’t”

“Yes, you can, babe, just come for me, I want to feel it. Come all over my face”

you whine, squeeze his head between your thighs, your hand tucked in his hair “Joel!”

You feel a heat radiating inside you, your orgasm building as he gives you no respite.

“Come on baby, give it to me” he whispers softly on your skin.

And you do. You explode at his praise, at his begging for you to give him what he wants.

You pant loudly as he doesn't stop licking you until you calm down.

He comes back next to you and kisses you. You taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, you're all over his face and it drives you crazy.

“Fuck me Joel. Fuck me now, please” your voice comes out almost desperate.

He looks at you, nodding without saying anything else, takes off his boxers and climbs on top of you, making you spread your legs to make room for himself. He takes his cock in his hand and rubs it on your clit. Once, twice, three times, wetting it with your pleasure that slid down to your inner thighs.

“You want my cock, babe?”

You nod repeatedly looking at him with beg in your eyes.

“Tell me how much you want it”

“I want it, Joel. I want it so bad. Please”

He enters you effortlessly, even though he's big, much bigger than any man you've ever had.

“Always so tight for me, God, you’re so amazing”

He wraps his arms around your torso and pulls you up to sit on top of him, he’s sitting on his heels, his cock still inside you.

He kisses you deeply, his tongue licks hungrily into your mouth, he holds you tight against his chest, you moan into his lips feeling you totally enveloped by him, your arms around his neck, ruffling his hair, your thighs around his waist.

His cock burns in your center, he moves his hips to sink into you, deep.

You feel like you're one, you're totally drunk on him and it's an overwhelming thrill.

He fucks you like this, holding you close to him, each thrust harder and harder, your face hidden in the crook of his neck.

You fill your nostrils with his scent, his masculine unmistakable scent, the one you were missing this morning.

The scent that smells of home and comfort and caresses and the purest love you've ever felt.

It’s here now.

And it’s yours.

You end up hugging each other on the bed, tired but incredibly happy. You are still held in his arms as he whispers “I love you” into your hair.

You look up and look him in the eyes and you know it's true.

"I love you too.”

[fic-over-cannon]

Nothing Fucks With My Baby (Part 2)

link to part 1

jason todd x f!reader

summary: jason has always feared he’d be the monster of his life. what he doesn’t realize is that between the two of you, you will always be the bigger monster, and you will love him anyway.

tags: violence, murder, implied child abuse, manipulation, implied sexual content

rating: mature | wc: 5.8k

a/n: this plot bunny took over my brain and wouldn’t let me go until i’d finished it. reader’s pov can get pretty twisted, so please mind the tags on this one and let me know if i’ve missed any.

Lucy Nesbit dies remarkably young. Only eight years old and she had drowned in a stormwater overflow. Poor thing, the adults had all said. Should have minded her step better, shouldn’t have been playing in dangerous places. The school had held a week of mourning. A tragedy. It hadn’t taken much effort to kill her. A sharp shove, then kneeling on her back until the bubbles stopped, and suddenly there went Lucy. Stones thrown at recess, scissors searching for your hair, harsh names and turned backs all stopped with just a few moments of effort.

The killing of Lucy Nesbit is likely the most important lesson you learned from that school. No one at the foster home had noticed you come home soaking wet, blood on the tip of your shoe. No one had asked you any questions when you didn’t gasp with the rest of your class as the principal announced the death of poor little Lucy, gone too soon. Nobody had noticed that you had been the one to make the world a less scary place. It is a lesson you keep close to you.

Only Jason Todd had noticed anything different at all. Found you in the corner of the yard staring down at the pavement during recess. Tucked his hands and looked up at the sky, squinted.

“Don’t need me to look out for you anymore,” he sighs. Nudges your shoulder with his and says “Lucy won’t be pickin’ on you again.” He’s right, of course. She won’t be doing anything important really.

“Sometimes I wished she’d die so they’d leave me alone,” you whisper. “‘Cause it was bad when you were there but when she’d wait for you to leave it was always worse. Does that mean I’m a bad person?” It’s a thought that’s crossed your mind before. Is there something so wrong, so terrible about you that the well-fed well-heeled could just look at you and know there was something awful about you? The same thing that led to getting left behind, bullied, belittled. Had Lucy Nesbit taken one look at you and known you were something to be destroyed?

“Nah. You’re my best friend and I wouldn’t be best friends with anyone bad.” He grins at you, front left tooth still missing from where you’d helped him pull it out three weeks ago. The bell rings, shrill and discordant, signaling the end of recess.

It’s only years later that you understand the tremble of her lips and the wobble of her chin before she would call you names, dig her nails into the meat of your arm, lead the other girls in pretending you didn’t exist. Lovely Lucy Nesbit, sweet cheeked with glossy curls, had been afraid. She should have been. The new girl who’d only moved to the Alley recently after her father’s embezzlement conviction, oh she should have been afraid of the children chewing her up and spitting her out like a rotten peach. Instead, she chose someone else to make afraid. The little girl with only one friend and no one waiting for her at home. All of that glitz and Diamond District shine wasn’t enough to bury the ugly truth of Lucy.

Jason Todd dies at 11 years old. He dies at the hand of the Batman, Gotham’s own protector.

Three weeks after Catherine had died and two weeks after he stopped showing up to school, Jason shows up at your foster home. More particularly, at the window of the bathroom you’re currently hiding in. The knocking startles you, hands coming away from where they’d been pressed to your ears to block out the fighting. He grins and waves at you through the window, suspicious smears across his nose and temple. You have to stand on the very tips of your toes to push open the latch but you manage it. He presses his face to the bars, hands wrapping around the solid metal.

“Jason?” you ask, tone tinged with wonder. “What are you doing here?”

“Jus’ wanted to tell you I’m okay.” Something smashes within the house and the voices raise. “Couldn’t stick around for long after the funer— after. Didn’t wanna stick around to see if they’d stick me in a place like this.”

“But what are you going to do? Where do you live?”

“Found an empty building that’s pretty warm. Sometimes I find stuff and Mr. Baker at the garage buys ‘em from me so I can buy loads of snacks. You know—” there’s a loud pounding on the bathroom door, staccato sharp, that causes you both to jump. One of the older foster kids yells at you to hurry the fuck up, then slams on the door again for good measure. In a hurried whisper, Jason continues “You know the old building across the park with the purple window sills? Come find me there.”

The night Jason Todd dies, you’d managed to sneak out again. Knew from previous trips the best way to get to the old house was to go out the back and use the garbage bins to boost over the fence. Jason’s not there when you let yourself in, hands careful to put the loose board back exactly the same. He does this sometimes. ‘Finds’ things to sell to Mr. Baker so he can come back with candy from the bodega to share with you. You settle yourself in to wait in the blanket you’d snuck out for him when there’s a noise from the lane behind the house. Clutching the scratchy blanket closer to you, you feel your way through the dark, breath held in your chest like a treasure. The slats nailed over the painted window sills have just enough of a gap that you can see between them without being seen yourself. What you see out in the night causes you to grip the old wood until splinters dig into your palms.

The Bat holds Jason in his grip even as he struggles, even as he swears. Jason’s angry, snarling face is nothing like his smiles for you. The Bat shakes him as Jason tries to twirl out of his grip, head lolling like a doll’s. Jason goes limp as he is bundled into the looming machine parked down the lane. The last thing you see of him is his eyes, wide and fearful.

Jason Wayne puppets the body of your friend for years after. He is not the boy that stood between you and Lucy Nesbit and matched her stone for stone. This Jason Wayne smiles for pictures without baring his teeth as a warning. He doesn’t remember cruel words or the way the world works. He doesn’t remember the lessons and the secrets the two of you had passed between you. No, this Jason Wayne doesn’t remember you at all. The only explanation is that your friend is dead. The fine sweet thing with his round cheeks and charming school uniform you only glimpse in the paparazzi photos printed in gossip rags half-melted into garbage heaps is not your friend. Just another leech of the city with pretty powder and paint, fattened on too much while there exists too little.

You get the news that Jason Wayne has died while at your third foster home since the one Jason had found you in. You find out the same way everyone else in Gotham does, the public broadcast of Bruce Wayne’s press conference. It steals the breath from you, the anger that slams into you. Heat surges through you and it is all you can do to uncurl your fingers from their fists. It hadn’t escaped you that four months after Jason Todd died there was a new Robin in town. That this Robin had a gaped tooth grin that would make even the dull mourning for a girl you hated seem bearable. The red rimmed eyes of Bruce Wayne on the staticky screen of the common room television confirms what you already know: Bruce Wayne is the Bat and he has killed your friend twice over.

Screaming into your pillow that night, your understanding of how the city works crystallizes. The Bat does not protect you, does not make your city better. He takes and he takes until there is nothing left for you. He throws out in a week food that would sustain you for a month, drops money on batted eyelashes and shiny new toys for him to destroy more of the city with. He is not the saviour some people say he is. He will not save you.

You are the Alley girl with the strange knobbly knees and the eyes that see too much. You will save yourself. You will keep your lessons about the ways the world works and what it takes to change them close to your heart.

The City of Gotham is never short of two things: crime and government money to prosecute it. Certifying as a court stenographer isn’t cheap, not with juggling your ejection from the foster system at 18 and having no funds to speak of. Second and third jobs keep you afloat until the scholarships and grants kick in. But by 20 your future is secured, government pension squirreling away into your accounts. You even manage to buy the house with the purple windows. It goes for a song on account of the murder that took place there all those years ago, but brand new flooring takes care of the more suspicious stains. It should be enough, to have saved yourself. It isn’t.

Every day you go to work and dutifully take down every damning word said. You record the lies and the horrors and the not guilty verdicts and every word you transcribe breaks your faith a little more. You have not saved yourself. The world has not changed, you aren’t any safer than you were at 13 and scared that the drunk man calling out crude words might actually carry them out on your walk home. No safety exists save for the pretty little lie you had painted for yourself. The only thing that has changed is that you are not scrabbling in the dirt.

Somewhere along the way, in the mess of bureaucratic paperwork that had become your life, you had forgotten the lessons you were meant to remember. Forgetting had not served you well. It takes a drunken night out gone badly to force you to remember.

A coworker pressures you to come out with the rest of the stenographers, a newly opened bar just close enough to the edge of the Alley to give the old money blood suckers the illusion of danger. The dance floor is crowded but you choose to stay hunched over your drink, wary of this glittering crowd. A man sidles up to you, rests his forearm against yours and offers you a smile that reeks of Texas oil wells and Manhattan construction firms. You look him in the eye as he fumbles through some pickup lines, nearly sick with the realization that he doesn’t recognize you. DUI, ran through a school crosswalk at the end of the school day, one child dead and two permanently disfigured. Got off with community service and a hefty donation. He wants to fuck you.

The police find him behind the bar the next morning, throat slashed and wallet missing, and chalk it up to a mugging gone wrong. He should have known better than to go flashing so much cash so close to where criminals live, the news anchors tut. Unable to withstand the scandal, the bar closes. You savour the top shelf whiskey bottle you’d bought at their closing, the same one he’d tried to buy you and drug you with, and attribute the glow in your belly to having done a good thing. His driver’s license finds a home under your living room floorboards.

The Red Hood arrives and the Alley almost seems to reverberate with the shockwaves. Still, pretty young things with a hankering for a bit of rough to tell all their friends about with champagne glasses in their hands and haughty titters wind up dead. You don’t recognize all of them from work, some of them you simply want power over. To reveal to these silver spoon fed creatures exactly how fragile their influence is. Disposing of them does not save you, but it makes you feel safe to know that the world does not turn solely around those shiny, fragile things. You are careful and you are not caught.

At the courthouse, you watch the aftermath of the Hood’s vendettas play out. Chat about cases with your coworkers between trials just to get a feel for what his game is. He’s an unknown to most of them, but not to you. You look at how the number of drug convictions of minors plummet this quarter, watch at how fewer pimps get brought in for killing their girls, note the way gang violence reduces down to just the Hood’s own orders and you understand. Whoever the Hood is, whatever he is, he knows the same lessons engraved on your heart. That the world is not safe unless you make it, and that the world doesn’t care what methods it takes to get it done.

Your first run in with Gotham’s newest crime lord isn’t planned. Quite specifically, you had never intended to make your way onto his radar at all. He had different plans, however. Taking out the garbage, you all but trip over his feet one late night. He’s slumped against your fence with one hand pressed against his neck. Blood dribbles between his fingers, dark under the fluorescent burn of the street lights.

The gun pointing at your head does not dissuade you from attempting to push him into a standing position.

“If you wanted to die in my yard, the least you could have done is climbed in through the back,” you say, voice measured and cold. “I’m not letting you bleed out in my front yard and make me a target for whoever carved you that second smile.” That jolts a reaction out of him, gun wavering from it’s unerring focus on your face. “So what we’re going to do is get you out of the open and then I’m going to call whoever you want to come stitch you up.”

A man of his size dwarfs the chair set in your kitchen but he will not be moved from his vantage point. Defensive, back to the wall and all entrances in sight. The wound still bleeds sluggishly. Determined not to have this man die in your kitchen, not when he’s actually out there doing some good in the world, you lay out your first aid kit and go for his throat. The gun jamming into the side of your ribs immediately lets you know just how badly you’ve not thought this idea out.

“You’re still bleeding, pretty badly too. I just want to take a look to see if I can patch you up long enough until whoever gets here can do something.”

The moment draws out, neither of you saying anything. With every breath you can feel the muzzle of the gun dig into you further. Something must read as sincere on your face, not that you’d ever be able to name what it was, and he reaches up for his helmet. Pushes a button at the nape of his neck to release it, before deliberately placing it on the kitchen table one handed. He smiles at you with bloodied teeth and, oh, that’s your boy.

“Well,” he rasps, “get to it.”

At that exact moment you press down with gauze, forcing a grunt out of him. Good. Jason’s scared you enough for a single lifetime. Trying to secure the gauze with medical tape and spite, you’re forced to lean into him until the feverish glow of his skin warms your own.

“Not afraid ‘m gonna bite?”

“I know you’re not going to hurt me because you’re my best friend and I wouldn’t be friends with a bad person.” Leaning back, you inspect your work. Shoddy, but it’ll do until someone actually medically trained can stitch him up. Finally, you let yourself actually look at him. Behind the domino mask you’d swear there’s slack jawed wonder. A brusque knock at the back door interrupts the moment and then great big hulking men are carrying Jason away. You know he’ll be back.

The next time you run into the man who might be Jason, you are tripping out of a bar on the arm of your next pretty bright thing, too whiskey-headed to tell that you’re nowhere near as disoriented as you should be after what you’d knocked back. He knocks over a homeless man’s collection bowl and snickers when the coins get knocked down a grate. Grabbing your wrist, he tugs, pulls you into the side alley and tries to pin you behind the dumpster. The broken bottle shard is already in your hand when the man drops down dead. A neat hole in his head sending droplets all over your blouse. There’s no way dry cleaning will save it. The Red Hood steps into sight, gun muzzle lowered. And just like that, Jason Todd — not Jason Wayne — is back from the dead.

Jason kisses you sweetly for the first time after he drives you home from the traveling fair that had set up on the outskirts of the city. The feeling of his lips — soft, chapped, heartbreakingly gentle — slots something broken back into the hollow between your ribs. He kisses you and the axis of your world shifts. He kisses you, and you know that he will look at you like you are everything good and kind that you pretend to be if only you will love him back. The tender thing in your chest growing claws, fanning hunger into conflagration. Loving him will save you both.

He pulls back and you let him. Look up at him from below mascara-lengthened lashes and allow yourself a smile. Fiddle with the hem of your dress and tell him haltingly just how much you’d enjoyed the evening and how excited you were to do this again. Jason’s declared himself as yours for the taking and you will not let him slip through your greedy fingers.

You let Jason court you. Accept the flowers he brings to your door with quiet murmurs of appreciation. Wear soft dresses that invite him to touch but are just enough out of season for the weather so he’ll wrap his own jacket around you. Send him off to patrol with packets of his favourite candies tucked into his jacket pockets and laugh with him over the meals he cooks for you in the same kitchen he had nearly bled out in. You would have done most of these things for him anyway, but now they are your weapons. Each action meant to pierce another hook into his heart until he is as unable to leave you behind as you could him. You will never believe the world is safe without him in it.

The number of Gotham’s most elite reprobates coming to unfortunate ends zeroes out. You’ve got the prettiest up and comer on your arm these days, with his many scars and fearsome attitude. Jason in his many forms makes the world a better place, makes you safer with every bullet lodged in a skull. He is not the same boy that yelled at Lucy Nesbit for you or split a chocolate bar with you in an abandoned house. The cracks show through. Violence drips out of his every pore despite his hand wringing to you late at night. You are his confessor and absolve him of any sin. A fangless creature is useless to you, though you would grudgingly love it nonetheless.

The first time Jason sleeps with you, you engineer it, encourage it. Why? Because it ties him to you. Binds him through sweat and flesh in a way that nothing else but the kiss of death can. Lean in and wrap your arms low around his stomach as he drives you home on his motorcycle. Linger in his good night kiss before inviting him in to see how the flowers he gave you are doing. Sweep your hair away from your neck as you bend down to place his mug of tea on the rickety coffee table. You close your eyes and smile where he can’t see at the feeling of warm lips pressed to your spine.

It’s slow. It’s sweet. You’ve never felt like a more precious thing than in his arms. He looks at you like you’ve hung the moon in the sky and set the sun to burning. You kiss his scars and tell him to give you his stories when he’s ready. One day there will be nothing you don’t know about him. If Jason wasn’t in love with you before tonight, he is now.

You are told the tale of Jason’s deaths and rebirths only once, but it is enough to open up the yawning chasm of fear under you again. The world is not safe, not for Jason, not for you, not when so many of your enemies still walk this side of the grave. Gotham is safer after the Red Hood. Jason is still in as much danger as he ever was. The horror, the possibility that he could be cut down — by Falcone, by Sionis, by the Joker, by the Bat — it shakes you to your core. You want to scream, to rage. What you do instead is kiss Jason on the forehead and let him go to pieces in your arms.

Jason always says you bring out the best in him. If that is true, then he brings out the darkest parts of you. The parts that twist and grow cold until you see the world as sets of acceptable losses for acceptable benefits. In your eyes, any loss is acceptable for Jason’s sake. He becomes lighter after the revelation, no more secrets between you he says. Accepts your heartbreak on his behalf with teary eyes and a wry smile. The day he tells you that Bruce — his father, the Bat — had been the one to carve him open the time he’d turned up in your garden is the day he becomes wholly yours.

“Jason, Jason he shouldn’t have done that to you,” you say gently, cupping his wet cheeks in your palms. He won’t look you in the eyes.

“He was— he was lookin’ at me like I was the monster, like my murderer wasn’t standing there too,” he confesses. “I just wanted him to love me like when I was a kid.” He shatters. “I just wanted to feel safe again.”

“Oh honey,” you coo, shears tucked into your hand. “I love you, and you’re no monster to me. You know me, do you think I could love something truly evil? You do so much good, you help so many people and you ask for so little in return,” your gaze is tender, loving. “I’d keep you safe, Jay, if I could. And I’d do it because I love you. Someone that won’t do that, well, it’s no kind of love at all.” You see the blow land, have already calculated its trajectory and velocity.

“I don’t— but he loved me. He loves me,” Jason insists, plaintive and raw voiced. “Doesn’t he?”

“I think he might’ve once. When you were younger, sweeter. But Jason, everything he’s done since then hasn’t been love. If he still loves you, it wouldn’t matter that you came back different, came back changed.” You can feel the last threads of his relationship with the Bat fraying under the blades of your words. It’s time to make the final cut. “Can you really say he loves who you are now?”

Jason asks, once, if you ever thought about kids.

“I thought maybe I’d foster some day. Save some poor kids the same trouble I went through, so that others don’t run off scared like you did.” It’s a lie, of course, but you know it makes him feel better to think of you as anything but selfish. “Not now though, not with the way the world is.” You rest your head on his shoulder, curl your fingers into his shirt. “Besides, the life you lead is dangerous enough. It would be cruel to bring children into our lives right now. Maybe one day, if the world ever becomes a little safer.”

He hums, thoughtfully, and leaves the matter there. But the seed has been planted in the dark corners of his mind and one day they will bear fruit.

The house with the purple window sills is officially only a home to you, but Jason comes round for dinner, to spend the night in your bed so often, that it may as well be his home too. He listens to you talk about your long days at work, the court cases that worm their way under your skin and won’t leave until you purge yourself of them. Really, he’s more horrified than you were at the beginning of this at how badly broken the system is. You give no names, simply the crimes and the sentences, and even those details are too much to bear.

One night you come home from work silent. Red rimmed eyes dry and sightless, you collapse into him. It takes an hour, more if you count the time spent panicking over a hypothetical injury, to coax the story out of you. A snake in the grass of a financial adviser, stolen pensions, and three suicides. All charges dropped. The testimony of crying grandchildren still not enough to make a difference. It is the first time he demands a name from you. It is not the last.

The day your old foster father comes across your judge’s docket is the day the world finally feels less terrifying. He is acquitted, of course. The testimony of trauma victims are notoriously inconsistent after all, if the witness is truly traumatized and not just lying for attention. It hurts to hear his public defender say those things, but it does make what you have planned easier.

The moment Jason comes through the door you are on him. Clinging to him all weak limbs and fought back tears. He holds you gently and strokes your hair.

“I need… I need you to do something for me Jay,” you whisper into his chest.

“Just gotta ask baby.”

“I need you to kill somebody and I need you to let me watch.” He stiffens under you, but you will not lose him here. “D’you remember when you came to find me at the foster home, the one with the yelling?” He nods, presses a kiss to the top of your head. “That foster father walked free today, acquitted and all charges dropped. I need to know he’s not gonna stay that way Jay, that someone cared enough to stop him, or otherwise I’ll go crazy.” He exhales sharply through his nose.

“I’ll take care of him, jus’ like I take care of all those names you give me. But do you hafta be there? Isn’t it enough to just know he’s dead? I don’t wanna drag you down into the dirt with me.”

“You’re not tainting me, honey. You’re freeing me.”

You watch the man die, a slow drawn out thing as he begs for kindness. His pain means nothing to you. Only the final blow, dealt by Jason’s bloodied hands, shifts the burden of memory from you. You stop being afraid of this particular threat. The body is found scattered across the railroad tracks. Police mark it down as a suicide.

This victory is twofold. Your world is a little safer and Jason has killed for you, on your express order and with you as witness. There is no greater high than this, the power that sings through your blood. Jason will reshape the world to keep you safe. Now you will reshape the world for him.

It takes three more months of witnessing his work and not flinching before Jason brings him to you. In the end, it’s really quite simple. You ask for the chance to show Jason how much he is loved, to let you take care of this one thing to keep him safe. He puts up a token fight, insistent on keeping your hands clean of his business, but the two of you know that your hands are far from pristine. The Joker is bound at your feet by the end of the day. A quick drag of your wrist and he is just another thing to be taken out with Saturday’s trash to eventually be illegally dumped in the harbour. Jason sobs in your arms that night.

He is not the boy you’d wished to have returned to you as a child. Jason is not quite the Bat’s son, or the weapon of the League either. He is some half-raised creature of the city’s own design and you love him because of that. You know he does not see you half as clearly as you see him, but you will accept his wonderful naïveté for all the ways it will let you protect him. Protect you by extension. Jason’s trust, his devotion to you, it is everything you’ve ever wanted. It is more than you have ever expected to have. That forgotten little Alley girl, now the centre of someone’s world.

And so you plan. A list of names a mile long of people who make this city worse just by breathing. Kingpins and crime lords and all their networks, culled from your networks and court cases. Heroes and vigilantes who already work tirelessly to hamstring the work the Red Hood does, uncaring of all the lives he’s saved. A list that, when all of the occupants are dead, will mean you are finally safe in a world that belongs to Jason. Convincing Jason, with all of his infinite love for you, to wipe the slate clean of them all is still no easy matter. Instead, you let the Bat make your argument for you.

Another bar, another drunk cell-less jailbird, only this time you know that Jason is waiting in the shadows, that the Bat is in the rafters. The man stumbles, his too shiny shoes catching on the cracks in the pavement. Jason moves to raise his gun and a flicker of metal sends his aim wide. The man on your arm shies at the sound of gunfire but your grip is iron. A body slides between Jason and his prey and you refuse to let this one escape. The pen knife lodges beneath the jaw bone, catches on something and sticks. His death rattle is unsightly but he goes down easy, life slipping away down the sewer grate. A booted step, heavier than Jason’s, causes your head to snap up.

A wraith looms over you and it’s pure terror that sends your stomach into free fall. The Bat turns on you, advances until your back is pressed up against the brick. A gloved hand reaches for you but pulls back like stung when a bullet narrowly misses a finger.

“Last warning. Back. Off.” growls the modulated voice of the Red Hood. He prowls forward, legs eating up the distance. The Bat simply grunts. Back to the wall, you try to inch away, but the feeling of cold metal stops you. The cuff around your wrist cinches shut so tightly you can feel the bones of your wrist grind together. You whimper, high in your throat. Jason’s fist goes crashing into the cowl.

“I said back off!” the Bat catches his next punch, before returning a hit of his own.

“She just killed someone in cold blood, Hood. You’re protecting a murderer.”

“At least she did something, Bruce! D’you even know what that man did? What you let him do to this city?” he screams the last word then headbutts the Bat.

The alley descends into a flurry of blows, bodies colliding with metal and concrete. Neither of them notice you pick yourself up from knees and flee. Home’s not safe, not until Jason tells you. But he’ll come back for you. You’ve gotten so good at waiting for Jason, what’s a few hours more?

He finds you in the safe house he’d made you memorize the address of way back in the infancy of your relationship. Nerves have you sitting in the dark, too afraid that even a light will give you away. It is a cold kind of silence that blankets the small kitchen with its empty cupboards. Dried blood has started to flake off of your skin and you begin to pick at it. For a moment, the repetitive motions distract you until you can’t bear the prickly feeling on your skin anymore. With a clatter you rush to the tap, the trailing handcuff clanging against the metal sink. A stone rolls in your gut and you retch until there is nothing left in it. Everything rests on this. The future rests on this. You lean back and rest your forehead on the cool edge of the sink.

The sound of the window jimmying open causes you to jump, whirling around to face the threat. It’s Jason, only Jason, flailing around in the dark. The streetlights reflect off of his helmet, revealing the cracks in the patina. You launch yourself at him, fingers curling into the collar of his coat. He smells of blood and grime, but beneath it all, warmth. Jason crushes you to him, hand cradling the back of your head with a tenderness that overwhelms you.

“M’sorry I’m late baby,” he murmurs. “Why’s it so dark in here?” Unable to form words, you simply shake your head and press yourself closer. Fear has always dogged you, but never have you gotten so close to the source of it. Jason raises a hand and wraps it reassuringly around your wrist. “Let’s get some light and we’ll get this thing off of you,” he says while stroking a thumb over where the cuff digs into your skin.

You have to stifle a giggle at the absurd parallel to the night he tore back into your life. The two of you sat at a table tending to wounds inflicted by Gotham’s self-titled vengeance, the uncertainty of the future hanging over you. Hands gentler than they’ve ever been, Jason traces over the blooming bruises on your wrist, handcuffs discarded on the table.

“He’s never going to stop chasing me, is he?” you whisper, slow fear poisoning your voice. “He’s never gonna stop trying to take me away from you. Not while I’m alive.” Jason trails his grip to your palm and turns it over, brings it to his lips and places a featherlight kiss on your fourth knuckle.

“No, baby. Not while he’s alive.”

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Taiwan has one show, but that's all they need

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

April 2024 Wk 1

Ongoing Series - Thai

Two Worlds (Thurs IQIYI) ep 4 of 10 - I don’t say this often but I LOVE this love triangle. The longing gazes = chef's kiss. I like that we are finally getting flashbacks to Tai’s side of the love affaire. This show remains highly engaging. So pleased for MaxNat.  

Deep Night (Thurs iQiyi) ep 5 of 8 - More lesbians! Yay! Meanwhile, when our leads make up they make out! (Yes I’m proud of myself.) I think this might be BLs first rooftop sex scene. We’ve reached new heights, BLabies. (Yes I’m proud of that too.) Anygay, basically a soap opera at this point, I'm not thrilled but I don’t mind.

"Do you apologize for being straight?"

City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) ep 10 of 12 - It was lovely. Very well done celebrity leaving the closet ep. Nice ensemble work too. Next week is doom! As expected. 

Only Boo! (Sun YouTube) ep 1 of 12 - New main couple for GMMTV in an idol romance about a boy who dances good and a food stand vendor. It’s fine but overly very pulp feeling for something from GMMTV. I'm a little concerned.

1000 Years Old (Thurs iQIYI) ep 8 of 12 - meh.

To Be Continued (Sat C3 Thailand grey) ep 7 of 8 - Never turned up on my usual sites. So will have to wait until next week. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Unknown (Taiwan Tues YouTube & Viki) ep 7 of 11 - Qian was, indeed, the one who couldn’t let go. This show is fucking fantastic. It's the best thing I'm watching right now by a mile.

Jazz for Two (Korea Gaga/grey) eps 3-8fin - The bully and the blue-haired drummer side pairing were great. I hated the father. Hated him so much. Our main tsundere seme was a bit too tsundere for me. I was v annoyed by the time he finally softened. I'm amused by all the ways they finagled boys kissin-but-not-kissing in the first half of this show. 2024's "pan around the back of the head" has now become a "dipping of the brolly." We did, however, eventually get an okay kiss.

Honestly?

This was basically what I wanted from Given and didn’t get. So I’m pleased. The music still wasn't great, but you can skip those bits. A solid enemies to lovers BL, where the sins of brothers' past haunts the present. Great optics, decent chemistry, and a tidy script even if tsundere characterization went a bit extreme in some cases. 8/10 RECOMMENDED trigger for suicide

Love is Better the Second Time Around AKA Koi wo Suru nara Nidome ga Joto (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 5 of 6 - We got the past betrayal in detail and it was decently bad. Bitterness understood. Too soon to live together! The BL U-Haul strikes again. I do like their weird curry passive aggressive argument. This is an interesting show. Do I LOVE it? No. But I think I like it.

On a not-really-related note: adoption, including adult adoption, is actually pretty common in Japan (comparatively). It's often tied to business scionism.

My Strawberry Film (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 8fin - It all turned out to be a tragic GL in the end. Not BL = not my problem. No rating. I will forget its existence right about… now. 

Love is like a Cat (Korea Mon Viki) eps 1-2 of 12 - Okay, weirdly kinky with the head scratching. Not much has happened and I’m not wild about what has. 

It's done, ready to binge, but I suck

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps

It's airing but...

We Are (Weds GMMTV iQIYI) ep 1 of 16 - University ensemble BL featuring PondPhuwin, WinnySatang, AouBoom, MarcPawinPoon - basically the good kind of messy gay friendship group (so more My Engineer and less Only Friends). Looks a bit like the Kiss series but everyone is queer. I'm IN but I need my other computer and I'm traveling as usual. So I'll get caught up next week and probably won't regularly be able to watch this one.

Graduation Countdown (Taiwan YouTube) - It's too much for me to keep up with 2 minute verticals, I don't have that kind of TikTok endurance training.

A Secretly Love (Thai Sat WeTV grey) 10 eps - Completed. Worth watching?

Lady Boy Friends (Thai WeTV grey) 16 eps - reminds me a bit too much of Diary of Tootsies only high school. Not my thing. DNF unless it turns a corner and is truly amazing.

Kiseki Chapter 2 (Sun iQIYI) 6 eps - It’s so boring DNFed at 2.

Close Friend Season 3: Soju Bomb! (Weds iQIYI) 6 - The problem with situational comedy BL is it must be situational, comedic and a BL. This show gets 1 of 3 claims correct. 33% is not a passing grade. Dropped at 3.

In the news

Takumi-kun Series 6: Nagai Nagai Monogatari is getting the undeserved honor of Furritsubs. Follow them for details. Tip 'em if you like 'em. (Will I watch it? Oh, probably. Damn it.)

Then Next Prince turned out to be a trailer only. Word on the webs is we will be lucky if we get it this year. It’s BL Princess Diaries. Jimmy has a new pairing (that boy from Night Dream) which is... interesting. All in all, this show does not look good. Pretty but not good.

Next Week Looks Like This:

4/11 Gray Shelter AKA Gray Currents (Korea ????) 4 eps - SooHyuk is only just surviving and reunites with YoonDae, an old friend. They end up living together. One of the leads is played by Choco of Choco Milk Shake.

4/12 Living With Him AKA Kare no Iru Seikatsu (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - Kindly Ryota goes off to uni only to find his new roommate is his childhood bestie, Kazuhito. Kazuhito doesn’t have a girlfriend and Ryota tries to help him figure out why, they fall in love along the way. Same director as Old Fashion Cupcake.

Still to Come in April

4/18 At 25:00, in Alaska AKA 25 Ji, Akasaka de (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - Yuki lands his first starring role in a BL drama alongside superstar Asami (previously his senior at uni). Said superstar suggests they form a sham relationship until filming concludes. As they actually begin to fall in love, the spotlight begins to burn. I think I've seen this before (joke) and also the trailer doesn't inspire confidence.

4/26 My Stand-In (Thai iQIYI) 12 eps - adaptation of Chinese novel "Professional Body Double" by Shui Qiang Cheng. Stars Up (Lovely Writer) and Poom (Bake Me Please) directed by the same team as KP (not a recommendation IMHO - my biggest criticism of that show was the clashing directing styles). This one looks well complicated, lemme try: Joe is a stuntman for famous actor Tong. Joe falls in love with Ming but Ming sees Joe as nothing more than a Tong-replacement. After learning this horrible truth, Joe dies. Joe then wakes up in the body of another man also named Joe. He manages to rebuild the same life as before—with the same people eventually re-meeting Ming. Ming wants Joe back but Joe doesn't understand why. But Ming seems to know what's going on and wants to give him some kind of explanation.

I'm exhausted just trying to describe the plot.

Knock-Knock Boys (Thai WeTV) - 4 college friends conspire to help their friend lose his virginity. Familiar faces like Seng (yes, Billy's previous partner) and Best, news here.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

NOTE: It looks like one of my personal favorites of last year Unintentional Love Story is getting a spin off!

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

See City of Stars & Unknown.

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are too much work.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire

If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will add you to the template. Easy peesy.

[theprettynosferatu]

CW: Orientation play/conversion. Remember that your sexuality is valid, and conversion is NOT a thing beyond fantasy. Also, fuck "conversion therapy"

“All I’m saying is…”

“Look, you’re speaking out of your ass”, Ava said, barely containing her frustration.

“How am I speaking out of my ass? It has been done and thoroughly…”, he tried to reply.

“Yes, yes, Pavlov, blah blah blah. But you’re talking about something else entirely, not conditioning reactions”

“Not Pavlov, Skinner! Actions can be conditioned too. Look around you! Mobile games, casinos, even the goddamn army uses conditioning to…”

“Can we agree that there’s a difference between conditioning obedience in a controlled setting and whatever the fuck it is you’re suggesting? You’re not talking about tapping on impulse to buy funbucks in a game! You are talking…”

“It’s only a difference of degree, not of kind. With the right combination of techniques…”

“No, there’s a core there that you can’t just… overwrite. Some things can’t be changed. Like… like how you can’t hypnotize someone into doing something they would never do”

“You know that’s bullshit, right? The whole hypnosis thing. You absolutely can make someone do whatever the fuck you want. It’s just a matter of how you approach it. Like, you would never harm a person, okay? But if I change what your idea of ‘person’ is, say, by making it more narrow you would absolutely harm someone I made you see as a not-person. Or maybe you can be made to believe you’re helping them, not harming them”

“That’s some creepy cult shit, dude. And anyway you can’t write a paper on this because a) there’s no evidence and b) doing the research to get evidence would be absolutely immoral. So I say look for another topic and for the love of God don’t go around spewing that bullshit if you want to ever get laid. Oh, speaking of! Linda will be arriving shortly and we have a date night, so please, please try to be a normal roommate and not freak her out. For me, okay?”

“When have I ever freaked her out? Linda loves me! And who knows, maybe she has an opinion on our little debate”

“Dude, she’s an Art student. I doubt she’ll be interested in our weird Psych dissertations”

“Perfect! Fresh eyes!”

“See, that’s the kind of weird shit I-”

The buzzer cut through the air, and a moment later Linda was inside the apartment, all smiles as usual. He took a moment to watch them as they embraced. 

They were almost comical in their contrast. Linda was tall, taller than he was, willowy and slender, her limbs graceful and shapely, her hair a long, flowing river of playful copper that almost seemed to dance on its own volition– with her green sundress she appeared to him as some sort of elven princess ripped from the pages of a fantasy novel and stuck into a mortal world in which she didn’t really fit. Ava, on the other hand, was probably the shortest adult he had ever seen. He might be tempted to call her petite, but that had a connotation of a lithe frame, almost like a tastefully proportioned doll. Ava was the complete opposite of that. Sometimes he felt Ava was an experiment aimed at testing how much of a person’s weight could be tits and ass, held up by strong, thick thighs. He felt quite guilty about such thoughts, and he understood why she wore nothing but oversized t-shirts and hoodies. It was logical: an early, spectacular growth spurt, heightened by her small size, had made her the target of relentless bullying by jealous classmates and awkward come-ons by hormonal teen males. It enraged him, he realized. Ava was beautiful and the cruelty of idiots had made her feel pain about it instead of pride. He made a point to never stare at her, even if he sometimes failed. It made their relationship as roommates a tad hard, he had to admit. 

 

Not that he had a shadow of a shot, of course. Ava had no interest in men.

Unless, of course, he was right in his theory. And he had good reason to think he was.

“So, Linda: Ava and I were having a bit of a debate…”

“Don’t start, dude”, said Ava.

“Oh, a debate! Do tell!” chirped Linda.

“Do you think we can be completely conditioned and changed, or is there some part of us that cannot be modified, no matter what?”

“Huh. Hard one. Like… a soul? I don’t know I buy it. I feel there isn’t really a self, you know? Like… Buddhism. The self is an illusion and all that”

“Come on, you can’t be serious! You can’t change who someone fundamentally is, and it’s sick to even consider it!”, said Ava.

“Well… what if I could prove to you it can be done?”, he stated, barely able to hold back. He know what he was going to do. He had been reluctant, but now it felt like a certainty.

“You can’t, so stop being an ass”, said Ava.

Fine. Game on.

“Linda, I love your socks! Pride socks!”

“Yup!”, said Linda

“What the hell–”, mumbled Ava.

He took a deep breath.

“Linda: rainbow socks…”

She replied in an instant.

“Are for sucking cocks!”

Ava felt as if reality had shifted into some horrible, twisted nightmare. She was about to scream something, anything really, to make Linda take that back before something stopped her in her tracks. Her body heard it before her mind did: her roommate's voice simply commanding her. Watch. 

And she watched. She watched as the love of her life smiled and went on her knees. Ava could do nothing but watch in disbelief and pain. Linda had never been with a man. Ever. 

“I might have… started testing my theories. On you both. Not that you’d remember, obviously”, he stated casually as the beautiful girl in front of him lovingly undid his pants. “I’d say Linda’s sexuality is part of her core self, wouldn’t you? Let’s see how that holds up after the months of conditioning I’ve subjected her to”

He felt guilty, sure; but there was such a high to it, such an entrancing quality to the combination of seeing instant, complete obedience and the final, definitive proof of the truth he had known to be right all along. Was it wrong? Yes. Did he care? Not at the moment. Ava’s eyes were a poem to him. Suddenly he was ripped from his reverie by the soft, loving touch of Linda’s tongue on his dick. He hadn’t even realized he had gotten hard just from the sense of complete power, of total, undeniable conquest. This was a primal, ancient arousal. Ava could do nothing but watch, and he took that sight in. God, he could almost taste it.

Linda moaned. The cock was so beautiful. So perfect. She felt so… silly, like she was now, for the first time, seeing in color and realizing the sky was, in fact, blue. It was obvious. Simple. Natural. Cock deserved worship. Cock deserved devotion. Cock demanded obedience. It was as if it was growing in her mind, taking over more and more of her, pushing who she had been out effortlessly. It expanded. It corrupted. It twisted and shifted all within. Cock. Cock. Cock. She kissed it with reverence, in awe of it. It was all that existed to her. All that mattered. She needed to please it. Needed to feel it throbbing inside her. Needed to be taken by it.

Ava saw her girlfriend slide a hand between her legs and felt nauseous. As much as she knew this wasn’t Linda’s fault, she could feel her heart breaking, her anger rising… and worse, her pussy getting wet. Her body betraying her. She hated him, and she hated Linda, and she hated herself most of all.

Suddenly, Linda couldn’t contain herself. She relaxed her throat, looked up at her Master and took his entire manhood inside her mouth. She almost came instantly. It was peaceful and sexy and just simple, like his cock was the puzzle piece that fit her perfectly, completed her, made her whole. She existed to be conquered, and realizing she was putting his pleasure over her ability to breathe was the final sign of her complete, loving surrender. She let it out, watched it glisten with her spit, and started licking it and loving it and she didn’t know how much came from her own need and how much it was a silent command by the man who had shown her the light. Her mind was too fuzzy to make such distinctions anymore.

He took a deep breath, fighting back the first signs of an orgasm. He needed to make a point.

“Linda… do you love Ava?”

The blonde stopped for a moment, shocked by a myriad of contradictions.

“Yes”, she decided. Her voice was shaking.

“Tell her”

Linda looked at Ava, the woman she had loved above all others.

“I love you…”

“But you have more to say, don’t you?”

“I… hmph… I…”

“Tell her”

“I love you… but… but… I love his cock so much more! Fuck! I need it! I need to feel it, to suck it, to be fucked by it… I’m sorry… but… I love it, I love it, I love it! I want it to fuck my throat, to take my cunt, to ram my ass! I need it! I need to be a slave to it, a whore for it, a fucking living toy!”

“What if you had to choose between Ava and my cock?”

“Fuck her! Sorry, my love… I do love you, but… You can never do to me what… what Master does to me, what his cock makes me feel! I hope I won’t have to dump you but… I would leave you for this cock in a minute! I’d do anything. Anything. Anything!” If she had more to add, her need to serve cock snuffed it. She took it all in with desperation, with total, shameless abandon. She needed to feel... used. In her proper place.

Ava felt a tear roll down her cheek. Her knees buckled in defeat. She didn’t even care. It was all gone. Her life, her love, all gone. And she could feel her eyes drawn again and again to the cock that had destroyed her. She felt her mouth watering.

“Linda, would you say you’re a lesbian?”

“Fuck no!”, she said before immediately wrapping her lips around the cock’s head.  

He felt a swell of pride. Of triumph. He knew Ava sensed the truth as well. He was right. He had proven his point. And now Ava’s full conditioning would take hold. A little bet with himself, making her own mental acknowledgment of his theory her final trigger. She took off her t-shirt. She would never wear it again. No more shame, no more pain about her figure. Only arousal and pride. His gift to her.

She crawled to him on all fours. The girls kissed– but now, they kissed for him, to arouse him. They were lovers, only they both knew there was a higher love. A truer love. Ava looked up at her owner and opened her mouth, greedily awaiting his blessing. Linda used her skillful hands, aiming his cock and teasing it, jacking it off, using just the right amount of pressure and speed. 

No man could resist such a sight.

In a few seconds, Ava was covered in his cum, more beautiful than she had ever been. Linda certainly felt that way, and she licked and kissed her sister slut clean.

He watched carefully, looking for signs of defiance, and finding none. In fact, Linda put his fears to rest with a simple statement.

“Ava, we need to buy you a pair of rainbow socks”

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu !!

[spence-whore]

Short Stack

Spencer Agnew x Reader

Request: spencer is so cute he’s just a wittle guy 😭😭😭 he would tower over me tho omg wait a reader x spencer but reader works at smosh and is short and ppl make fun of her and spencer is like “nah its hot that they are short” or something cute and flirty and kinda goofy because he’s so goofy

A/N lisssteeeen i know i just posted one but i hated it and i felt like this was such a cute one. so, y’all get two in one day🫶🏻 this one is gonna be a short one (no pun intended) but hopefully this does your request justice<3 also, side comment about this. This was definitely a different one for me to write because I’m usually taller than everyone i meet. I always like to say I’m metaphorically small because my personality and how quiet i am makes me feel tiny lmao

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Your entire life, you have been known as the small one. You’re quite small, so this led to you being teased for it your entire life. You thought once you got into an adult, office job that it would change.

Oh, how you were so wrong.

“Hey short stack.” Courtney said and flopped down in the chair across from you.

“You got nothing better? I’ve heard that a thousand of times before.” You said snorting and shaking your head.

You know that they meant no harm but it got to a point that it was kind of annoying. All anyone ever comments on about you is your height.

“Honestly though, I know we comment on it a lot, Y/N…” Noah says trailing off and standing in front of the chairs.

“How are you so little?” You respond in a mocking tone. “I don’t know. Whenever I was little, doctors done scans and everything. It was nothing concerning or anything like that. I’m just small.”

“I honestly think it’s adorable. You’re like a little pocket size human.” You hear Amanda say from the side as she approaches the conversation.

“At least I’m not getting bullied for being a ‘short king’ anymore.” Shayne comments while doing air quotations and sitting down beside Courtney. “I genuinely never thought there would be a day that someone would show up at Smosh that is smaller than me and Spencer.”

“I might be small but I can still fuck up your knee caps if you don’t leave me alone.” You mumbled while sliding down in your seat and glaring at Shayne.

“Leave them alone guys.” You hear Spencer say whenever approaching the little get together. “Honestly, I think it’s kinda hot that they are that little.” He says and shrugs his shoulders.

You felt your face immediately flush red because your office crush had just commented on your height and said it was hot.

“Uh, thanks? I guess? That’s definitely a new one.” You whispered and tried to cover up your face with your hair.

“Honestly though, it really is. I’m used to everyone else being my height or taller but you’re so little. It’s so precious. I could like scoop you up and just carry you around.” Spencer adds then walks away.

You didn’t know what to say, you could just feel everyone staring at you because everyone was very aware of your very obvious crush on the guy.

“Oh, Y/N!! Your height is so attractive!! I could just pick you up smooch you and hold you close to me!” Amanda starts saying in a teasing tone with a huge grin on her face.

“So, how’s that new video idea going?” You try changing the topic with Courtney but she won’t change it.

“Oh, what video? I think we should just talk about the little exchange you and little Spencer just had.” She says while gigging and making a face at you.

“He was just teasing me, he doesn’t find me attractive or anything. Just leave it be, please.” You pleaded, staring at the woman in front of you.

“Y/N. I was pretty much saying what Amanda was saying..” You hear Spencer say from behind you, not realizing he had came back. “I could just pick you up, smooch you, and carry you around.” He says in a mocking tone like Amanda then starts laughing as well as everyone else.

All you could feel was your face heating up and your heart racing. “Oh for fucks sake.”

“Calm down short stack, might blow a fuse with how red you are.” Spencer says while sitting beside you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder then pulling you close to him.

“We’re just teasing you. Calm down. What I said might be true though. You will never know.”

[ratbastarddotfuck]

it blows my mind when I see self proclaimed transfeminists saying that movement towards masculinity is never punished, and movement towards femininity is always punished. because I'm sorry, but that's simply not fucking true. it may be true for trans women/transfems, or queer/gnc men, or cis women under certain specific conditions, but movement towards masculinity is absolutely punished in most people presumed to be women by society (this can include butch transfems!!!! "why are you transitioning just to act like a man" sort of shit). I didn't spend my entire life being abused physically and emotionally by family, teachers/employers, and peers for being a tomboy, then a butch, then a transmasc for other trans people to come up and say that AFAB people aren't punished for being masculine. when I was 15 years old my father told me I was "lucky" I didn't cut my hair shorter than my shoulders, else I'd "look like a dirty butch dyke". so many adults - father, stepmother, many of their friends, my grandparents, teachers, STRANGERS - made it their life's mission to forcibly feminise me, and I mean that seriously. I was forced to wax my face and body from the age of 12 until I moved out at 17, because I looked too "mannish" and it was an embarrassment for my family to be seen with me. I have been routinely punished, abused, bullied and manipulated for being a "masculine girl". this is not an uncommon experience.

like, seriously, go talk to a butch. go read stone butch blues. it's free. and stop assuming shit about experiences you have never had. ALL deviation from the societal norm is punished. that's the fucking point.

[katuschka]

Touch Starved Pups – Two

Jake Kiszka x f!reader x Josh Kiszka 6.269 words

Welcome to Part Two of the story about what happens to two well-behaved, bored and horny romantics when a new feisty, worldly and hot social media manager enters the building...

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings (are spoilers): sex, sex, sex, and sex; unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex, rough oral sex, fingering, squirting, choking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, old unresolved traumas, bullying, online bullying, expressive language, domJake/sweet Jake, domJosh/sweet Josh, alcohol consumption, smoking

Also, if you like the story and want to get notifications for future updates, you can join the Taglist or see the Masterlist

See also Touch Starved Pups Masterpost

I'm in like I'm infatuated It's all too much, the pressure She's all that I can take She's a sad tomato She's three miles of bad road She's her own invention That gets me in the throat

When I was a kid, my mom kept telling me that my flippant and optimistic nature would make me miserable one day. It would be my downfall, she said. Well, I’m still waiting.

Nah, that’s badly worded. I never waited for anything. She kept waiting for miracles my whole childhood and it only made our life hellish sometimes. So, I either do shit, or I prevent shit from happening. Easy. Well, mostly. Sometimes, it's a bit harder but I still keep trying. While I acknowledge the fact that the world can often be a miserable place, I just decided that I’m not gonna contribute to that. If anything ever makes me feel under the weather, it’s not my life loving nature, but the people who dislike it, because hating is all they know. So fuck them. I just live my life the way I want and so far it’s made me feel good. There were even a few times when I felt like a real fucking queen! Falling asleep in the middle of a twin(k) sandwich definitely qualifies as one of those moments. 

Just imagine: It’s three am, penthouse wall windows reveal the sea of city lights below. It illuminates the room just right. It’s a magnificent, festive glow. The air is still thick with the smell of sex, probably because of all those stains on the sheets, previously drenched with pheromone infused sweat and other bodily fluids. A nice contrast to three freshly-showered, rose-scented, warm and dry bodies lying intertwined and pleasantly fatigued on those dirty, dirty sheets. Dirtied with looooove. Muahaha. One of the bodies belongs to you, the other two are none other than the sweet and spicy Kiszka twins. What a nice thing to imagine, right? Well, you can. I don’t have to. I’m right here. 

We did it! Not my first threesome, but definitely the most memorable one. Who would have thought  that those two mini labradoodles would make me feel so good! I mean, they did in the past, but this is a whole new level. And they continue to do so. Even now, when both of them are fast asleep. Their bodies emanate so much heat that I don’t need a blanket. They are my blanket, keeping me warm and cozy and…safe. That’s new.

I probably shouldn’t get used to that, but it surely is extremely pleasant right now: spooned by Josh, with his face buried in my hair. I can feel his hot breath on the nape of my neck, while Jake’s left hand rests possessively on my right thigh. I was stroking his belly, but it kept waking him up, so he stopped me by taking my hand in his and now they both just rest on top of his chest, with our fingers still intertwined. He looks stunning like this, lying on his back like a king resting after doing the king’s work. With his lips slightly parted, he’s snoring lightly, reminding me he’s still just a guy, not an elf. 

It’s intoxicating, the whole thing, the whole situation. I can’t get enough of this. I just wanna grab all their remaining limbs and wrap them all around me until I melt into them…once again. I think I will, but for now, I savor the moment in this luxurious and airy room, and the city lights keep twinkling. I bet we must look great, too, with all that night glow illuminating our resting bodies. Fit for Vogue cover no doubt…if we weren’t completely naked, that is. We wouldn’t want to offend anyone, oh no no no. So maybe just a Tom Ford ad.

You’re right, this doesn’t sound like my room. My life may be good, but I couldn’t afford a penthouse room with wall windows. This is not the night when I first made that naughty suggestion. Nothing happened in that hotel room AND there’s more to the story. So let’s go back. 

It took them a little while to fully comprehend what I was really suggesting. Poor things. Jake was the first one to turn pale. Then he started shaking his head and pointing his finger at me. “No way! No, no no,” trying to laugh it off. Who does he think I am? A stand-up comedian? I just flashed them, for fuck’s sake. That’s no laughing matter, you fucker. I’m dead serious. 

I just raised my right eyebrow at him, as I was getting impatient and becoming very, VERY annoyed. He looked at Josh for confirmation and – to my delight – found none. That up-to-no-good pixie might have looked equally frightened, but he was definitely NOT opposed to the idea. I could tell, because I could see… Jake noticed too. “Oh for fuck’s sake! Are you fucking serious?”

Josh didn’t respond. Rubbing the nape of his neck, he looked me in the eye and I could tell he was searching for more clues as to what I was really up to. I thought I had made myself clear. Trying to make myself even clearer, I returned the stare with my chin up and licked my upper lip lasciviously, making Josh’s dick twitch again. 

“It’s just sex, Jake…” Josh mumbled sheepishly. 

“You’re sick! Both of you.” Jake spat and pointed a finger animatedly first at Josh, then at me, then at Josh again. 

“Fine! Bugger off, then!” Josh hissed in response, repeating Jake’s previous words. 

“Fuck you!” To my dismay, he zipped up, adjusted his shirt a bit (like anyone would be able to tell the difference) and stormed out, closing the door with a loud bang. 

“Well…” Josh sighed and rubbed his hands together with an idioting grin on his face.  I usually enjoyed his playful nature, but it annoyed me magnificently at that moment. 

“What?” 

“Hey lady, you got the love I need,” not discouraged by the acidic tone of my voice, he crooned, approaching me slowly.

… and that wouldn’t do. I could see my plan crumbling and the only way to keep things going was to keep them BOTH sexually frustrated, even if it meant denying myself some generously offered cock. I finally decided to play the “offended” card. My room, my rules. They just couldn’t get a grip!

And that’s how Josh too ended up in the hallway outside my room, holding his crumpled clothes in front of him in an attempt to hide at least his front yard valuables. One angry kick at my door before he went running to his room. I kept my ear glued to the door so as not to miss any additional drama, but apart from a surprised “whoa” coming from Robert, the security guy, followed by “run, Forrest, run”, he seemed to have scared no one. 

So, that was it. God bless my purple little friend that’s never let me down. Visualizing it in Josh’s ass with his face contorted with bliss certainly helped, too. Thank you Jake for the idea. It was great. 

We were supposed to leave early in the morning, and because the fucking schedule is sacred, it was just past seven am when we all indeed found ourselves dragging our sorry and hungover asses towards the busses. The weather was shit that day, just like our collective mood. Grey and gloomy (And wet…yeah, well, I kept having thoughts. So what!). I was already standing outside the hotel, trying to enjoy my morning cigarette – shivering just a little bit, because I had thought a light cardigan and leggings would be enough – when Josh just stormed by with his hideous cap and sunglasses on, looking like a huge white fly. 

That was unusual (even more so in this overcast weather), which could only mean that he was sulking. My theory was further supported by him lighting up a cigarette in front of the bus, meaning he was sulking rather vigorously, wanting everyone (me) to see. I half expected him to pull out a chocolate bar out of his pocket and ram it down his throat. The idea made me chuckle. 

“What did you do to him?” It was Robert, appearing next to me out of nowhere and handing  me a much needed cup of coffee. Rob knew… 

“Sucked his twin’s dick. Thank you.” 

Richard nodded in understanding, even though he didn’t understand shit about this particular scenario. I like Robert. He’s our teddy grizzly bear. A good buddy, too. I took a sip and savored it for a while because Jake just passed us by – also without saying a word – and I wanted to pretend I didn’t notice. Robert did, though, and frowned: “Wait…you gave Jake head, but he doesn’t seem too happy about it now… and Josh was running down the hall in his birthday suit in the middle of the night… Girl! Why do I feel like there’s more to the story?” Now Robert was slowly starting to understand. Bless him. 

“Do you really wanna know?”

 “Are you kidding me? You know I live for juicy tea.” I laughed while we watched Jake having a heated conversation with Josh. We were too far to hear the words , who ended the argument abruptly by just flipping Jake violently right in front of his almost new nose before stepping onto the bus without another word. Jake noticed us staring, flipped us too, and followed suit. 

Robert pursed his lips and puffed through his nose. “OK, maybe I don’t wanna know.”  

I just shrugged. At first glance, this looked like a rather precarious situation, but I was hopeful it wouldn’t last long. After all, it wasn’t really my fault, and if the two of them had a problem with each other because of me, I had generously offered a solution. It was just a matter of time. 

“Ah, well, this is going to be a truly pleasant ride. Care to join us?” Robert asked, throwing me a devilish smile. 

“Nah, I’m good,” I grinned back. 

While Rob was a part of the closest crew, my own bunk bed was on the other bus, so that was the one I usually took, unless my work required a different momentary arrangement. To be honest, I felt like there would be a lot of work waiting for me that day (And I was right.), but I also wanted to deal with that alone. Those fuckers were in no mood to be able to handle even more bullshit. And it was a real shitstorm, lemme tell you. 

I usually start my daily routine by checking all the relevant platforms, because I wanna keep abreast of things. Sometimes it requires drinking before noon, because of all the crazy shit that one can find online. I keep doing it so that no one else has to. It’s an honorable task. Like a food taster of something. 

Some finds are more or less pleasant and make my days easier. For example almost all the twinning content. It was basically the same that day, in spite of the fact that the show the previous night wasn’t exactly a success. 

One video in particular caught my attention, though, because it looked like the feud between the two of them started well before they ended up in my room. It was not the usual twin banter. Not this time. This looked serious. I completely missed it, but clearly, you didn’t, because there were several variations from different angles, two of them featuring my lovely self. It must have happened very shortly after I took my own footage that I was about to edit next. 

None of that was new. I’m often on the fan videos, just like the rest of the crew, but I’m never the center of anyone’s attention, so in spite of some of you hating me, it doesn’t really matter…well, it didn’t, until now. The said feud was obviously about me, even though I had not been aware of any of that happening at that moment. And apparently, it made them behave unprofessionally too. 

Well, strike one.

Our night activities were quite obviously no secret, but no one batted an eye. A pleasurable distraction, that’s what it was. However, if it became too much of a distraction…if I became too much of a distraction and it should start affecting their ability to perform, I might be asked to pack my bags. That’s when I felt the first lump in my stomach. Do no harm, that’s the key. We’ve all wanted this, right?

I took a deep breath and counted to ten. It was just a brief moment. Iit couldn’t possibly be all my fault. Not all shows can be stellar; there are nights when things just go wrong. And nobody said anything to me afterwards. 

Stop overreacting, you bitch, and do your job, which you can’t afford to lose. It’s not a big deal. 

And it wasn’t. I checked more videos and it really wasn’t as bad as the general mood made it seem like at the time. As that particular leg of the tour was coming to an end, we were all just tired, irritated and homesick (Not me, but some others were, including the guys). 

I delved into the comments next. 

No, it was not a big deal, but it still made so many of you so fucking angry, because for a split second, they weren’t paying attention to you, but it was all on me. And you saw how both of them wanted me. 

Strike two!

I got used to derogatory comments, slurs or even edited pictures. I scanned past that, more or less unfazed, until my eyes landed on something that almost made me choke on my coke (with rum). 

This job taught one important thing. My own online presence is irrelevant, problematic, and potentially harmful. I have no personal accounts. That doesn’t mean I’m untraceable and as it turned out, someone dug up dirt on my father and used it to psychoanalyze me. Yes, that excuse for a man is a piece of shit. I know. He’s dead to me. But this…this was like a punch in the guts. And I just sat there, unable to take a deep breath all of the sudden.

I refuse to let people get under my skin, but that asshole is my kryptonite. I battled my demons, kicked them in the balls, but his disgusting face is the only personified evil that I never managed to overcome. The scars run deep. I hate the fact, but that’s how it is. At least I had managed to stop it from haunting me. Until now. 

The second lump in my stomach wasn’t a lump. It was a huge ball of acid goo. I barely managed to get to the bathroom in time before my body betrayed me and I said goodbye to my breakfast. 

“Are you ok?” It was Daniel, approaching me at my spot in section B right after the soundcheck ended. 

“Never been better. Why?” 

He cast me a sympathetic look. “Stella, I saw some of that shit.” 

Well, shit.

After we arrived at the hotel the previous day, I beelined to my hotel room and continued to work from there. Well I tried to do some work, but after my hands started shaking uncontrollably, I spent at least two hours crouched down on the floor in the shower before I called it a night. 

It got worse overnight. What started as just a few comments that affected me personally, snowballed out of proportion and I felt like my job was really hanging by a thread. 

I didn’t meet the twins again until soundcheck and even then we kept our distance. They probably thought that I was avoiding them and it was in fact true. I needed to function and that took all my remaining energy. I didn’t have enough brainpower to try to explain what was wrong with me. Daniel’s comment together with their sideways glances that I suddenly noticed told me that they probably already knew. I sighed, feeling defeated. 

“It just comes with the job. Working with people is not for the faint of heart. I’m used to that. I’m prepared for that. So, I’m fine, Daniel.” 

“Uh huh, fearless in words, as always. And yet I’m seeing that you’re not. I know you’re tough, but you’re also only human. You can’t always hide behind your words. Not only because you’re failing this time, but also because it’s not healthy.”

“So what am I supposed to do, Danny?” 

“Well, let’s start with you joining us for a drink after the show,” he smiled at me encouragingly. 

…an offer, which I didn’t take. I craved their closeness more than ever, but it was not right. I barely survived the photopit that evening and went straight to bed as soon as possible.   

The next morning passed in a haze. Once again, I spent it trying and failing to do my daily routine – just my laptop’n’me – before we all gathered for lunch. I didn’t want to go, but I had witnessed what lack of self care can do to you when I was a child, and I had promised myself to never fall down that pit. 

I managed to smile weakly at everyone before I found my seat in the corner. That’s where Jake finally approached me.

“Bebe, honey, come and join us,” he smiled and motioned towards the table where Josh was already waving at me to come. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jake.” 

He sat on the chair next to me and placed his hands on the table with a dull thud. “What’s going on? This is not you, and – believe it or not – it’s really making us worry. Is it about your dad? Because that’s just…”

“He’s not my “DAD”. And no…well, yes, kind of, but that’s my personal problem. It’s about the two of you. I’m here to do my job, and I can’t be the reason why two of you argue and consequently fail to do yours.” 

“Bebe, we’re fine…”...but I just shook my head dismissively. He took a deep breath. 

“So, if we convinced you that we’re fine and not arguing, would it be OK?”

“Yeah, perhaps…” I replied with uncertainty, to which he stood up, bent down to kiss my hair while mumbling “ok”, and went back to his table, leaving me confused on top of everything else. I quickly finished my lunch and stormed out. 

The rest of the day went more or less smoothly. Another soundcheck, just in case, even though it was the same venue, a few hours of “idling” backstage (doesn’t apply to the crew), followed by yet another hellish evening in front of the people who wanted to tar and feather me.

When I got back to my room, I just showered quickly and was in my nightgown and ready to go to bed when I heard a knock on my door. 

“Hi sparrow.” He smiled sweetly and swung on his feet. 

“Josh? What are you doing here? I’m a bit tired and…”

“I…well, WE got a little surprise for you. Come on. Let me show you.” He was already reaching for my hand but I backed away. 

“All right, all right…just let me put some clothes on, you crank. I’m almost naked, with just my nightgo…”

“Which is just perfect! Come on!” He was relentless, jumping around like a kid around a christmas tree. I have to admit, his exuberant behavior was once again contagious, and I couldn’t help but laugh. What else could I do, he was already pushing me out of the door and towards the elevator. “I hope we’re not going to go swimming…naked?!?” I asked warily, but he just laughed and kissed me softly. “Josh, we really shouldn’t…”

“Shhh.” 

To my utter bewilderment, he led me right to the door of a presidential suite. Opening it, he motioned for me to enter. I gasped. It was a beautiful one. Elegantly furnished and airy. The bedroom was separated from the large lounge only by a glass wall so that it looked more like a huge loft. Standing by a large minibar, dressed also just in a bathrobe, was Jake. He raised his glass to me with a soft smile and took a sip. I heard the door click behind me and turned around to see Josh leaning against, his expression completely altered now.   

I was impressed, not gonna lie. My babies all grown up and taking initiative. It felt as if they filtered all the blood in my veins. The bitch is back, bitches! I wondered what was in store for me there. Judging by the looks on their faces, probably nothing good. Good…

“Want a drink?” Jake asked and I nodded. 

He came closer, took a sip of his whisky. He tapped at my lower lip with his finger, urging me to open my mouth, and kissed me, spitting the drink on my tongue. It was so lewd and hedonistic! Got me all excited. I swallowed the burning liquid and kissed him back.  

“Any special requests, Bebe?” he asked when our lips parted. 

Oh, I sooo wanted to be just a ragdoll in their hands. After three days spent trying to be in control of the situation – and failing – I now realized how desperately I needed NOT to be in control for a while. To let go. Would they really do that for me? Treating me like their whore in this suite that must have been a bit expensive even to their standards? “Use me!” My tone was cold and daring, I showed no fear, but I was so ready to be tossed around the room.

Jake looked a bit surprised at first, but then he took another sip and his face hardened, eyes darkening with lust. I felt Josh’s hands running down my shoulders until they reached my elbows and grabbed them firmly. Oh god, they were hoping for this! Oh this is going to be so good. 

“Allright, on your knees, then.” 

I quickly obliged. He stripped off his gown and motioned to me to do the same. Before I could even blink, Joah was naked too. Eager bastard. They towered over me like two hounds, but I had absolutely no intention to be sheepish. They looked at each other and I swear I could feel their silent communication going on. It was like a different kind of waves, vibrating in the air and elusive to all the senses other than touch. 

“Open,” Jake ordered. I stuck my tongue out daringly and he filled my mouth without any further ado. While still holding the glass of whisky, he grabbed my hair with his left hand and fucked my mouth until I jerked back, gasping for air. He released me. “Are you ok?” he asked and his face softened. 

“Yes,” I answered breathlessly. 

“Good. So, as you probably already gathered, we’re here to convince you. It’s going to be just as you requested, but at first we’re going to make you feel good. Ok?” I nodded. Of course it was fucking ok! I was already so wet that I might get dehydrated if I didn’t get a drink soon. Glancing around, I noticed that Josh already made himself comfortable on the bed beyond the glass divider. I looked up at Jake again and he nodded. 

“Yeah, go,” Jake motioned towards the king size bed with his hand clutching a glass of whisky. His tone was mild, but it wasn’t a request. 

I climbed onto the bed and looked at Josh for further instructions. It was just so surreal, I still couldn’t really believe what was happening. He spread his legs and patted the mattress between them. “Come here sparrow, make yourself comfy.” I positioned myself in front of him and leaned my back against his chest. 

“Sparrow, we know the last few days have been rough, so if there’s anything you don’t like, tell us immediately, understand?” He whispered in my ear while he stroked my upper thighs.

“Ok,” I whispered back. He grabbed my knees and forced my legs open, making room for Jake to position himself between them. I gasped when he started kissing the soft skin of my inner thigh, making his way up, while Josh’s lips brushed against my neck, while his palms traveled up and down my upper arms. Jake’s gradual teasing was almost debilitating and I squealed when the tip of his tongue finally darted between my folds and he lapped at my juices thirstily, moaning in appreciation before he wrapped his lips around my clit and started sucking gently. The muscles of my underbelly tightened almost immediately and my whole body shook with a sudden wave of intense arousal. 

“Any further request, sparrow?” Josh bit my earlobe teasingly. 

“Choke me,” I breathed out. He wrapped his fingers around my throat and squeezed gently. “More,” I urged him. “Fuck!” he hissed, almost angrily, and his grip tightened. I rolled my eyes and let out a loud, strangled moan. Pressed with my lower back against him, I could feel how much he liked that too. “You’re something else, sparrow.”

I looked down at Jake, whose eyes met mine and I watched how they widened. I imagined what it must have looked like: my heaving chest, my parted lips and raised brows, Josh’s other hand still toying with my left tit. 

Jake closed his eyes and moaned around my clit. The fucker liked that, too. See? I knew you would. 

It took them only a few more minutes to make me cum…for the first time. Before I could react, Jake grabbed my ankles and pulled me down a bit so that my head now rested in Josh’s groin. He pressed his right palm against my core and slowly pushed two fingers inside. The intensity of the new stimulation right after my orgasm took me by surprise. 

“Jake…oh…god…what are you doing?”

“Shut up.” 

OK!

The way he started pumping his fingers inside me made me see stars. It was something new, and it made me squeak again. Sure, he had done this before, but never right after eating me out. I grabbed Josh’s arms in search of something to hold on to, leaving angry indented marks in the flesh of his triceps as Jake continued assaulting my g spot. I knew what was going to happen, and let out a strangled cry when it indeed did. I tensed, arched my back and squirted all over Jake’s forearm. 

“Good girl,” he crooned when I collapsed back onto the mattress, completely exhausted. A rag doll, indeed. They offered me no rest, though, and I was on my hands and knees before my heart could even stop racing. “Please, just a minute,” I whimpered and looked at Josh, when I was facing now. He smiled sweetly and pecked my lips gently before he mumbled “you asked for this, honey” in his raspy, low voice. Fuck! Oh yes, I did. 

I could feel Jake positioning behind me. He ran his palms up my thighs and smacked my ass disapprovingly when they trembled. He bent down and rubbed the hot skin of his stomach against my back before he whispered in my ear: “It’s our turn, baby.” I was SO ready! My pussy was not, though, and I gasped in surprise when the tip of his cock entered me.

“Oh god, you’re so tight.” 

I could feel him stretching me and took a few deep breaths, trying to relax a bit. “Well, that’s your fault, so stop complaining.”

“I’m not…complaining…” He bottomed out, making me gasp in surprise. The stretch was so pleasantly intense, making me feel so full. “...just…stating facts!” He pulled out almost entirely and then thrusted into me again with such force that I almost collided with Josh. He grabbed my shoulders first to support me, and then started stroking my hair, massaging the nape of my neck as Jake set a steady pace. Slow and sensual at first. He knows that’s how I like it. 

“Are you feeling better?”Josh asked softly. I mumbled an incoherent “mmmhmm” and nodded. He squeezed my left boob gently and pinched the nipple slightly between his fingers as Jake’s hand traveled up my spine. I tilted my head back in a wordless plea for him to grab my hair and he did, with the other hand still kneading the soft flesh of my hip.  

“How does it feel?” It was Josh again. I closed my eyes and smiled in between my moans. It felt absolutely exhilarating. My mind practically left the room. The combination of Jake’s dick hitting my cervix and Josh’s fingertips tracing the curves of my upper body made me almost oblivious to the surroundings and I was floating on a marshmallow cloud of pure physical bliss. “Tell me baby…” I can’t speak right now. Here’s another smile, so shut up already.

“Josh?” Jake’s sultry voice brought me back to planet Earth.

“Yeah?” The response was a bit edgy. Oh dear god…

“Shut up,” Jake breathed out shakily. He tried to sound menacingly, but his voice betrayed him and faltered. I laughed softly and nuzzled my cheek in Josh's palm that was still ready to caress and support me if necessary. It was so intimate. Or it would be, if it weren’t for their childish brattiness. Even now, for fucks sake! But Jake wasn’t wrong.

“Make me.” The situation was getting a little out of hand and I grabbed Josh’s hard cock just to prevent further escalations. He yelped in surprise and I could tell Jake was getting more and more annoyed by the way he slammed into me. 

“Bebe, make him shut up.” he hissed through his teeth. I bit my lip in an attempt not to laugh because while Josh is a versatile (and kinky) lover when it comes to various roles, he would never, EVER shut up under any circumstance! But I knew what Jake meant. I wanted this, so I should be fair. I looked at Josh again and rubbed my thumb against his lower lip. “Want my mouth?” I whispered. He enveloped his lips around the tip of my thumb and started sucking at it, moaning a “yes” around it without breaking eye contact. I pulled it out and ran my trembling fingers down his chest and belly until I cupped his balls. He tilted his head back immediately and reached behind his head to grab onto the headboard, putting his lean musculature on full display. Show-off.  

I could watch him just breathing like that all day, but something else required my attention, as Jake reminded me by smacking my ass. I slowly licked around the head of that something, making Josh’s back arch. He literally wailed when I swallowed him whole once again. See? Can’t keep quiet even if his life depended on it. 

I tried my best to do a good job, bobbing my head up and down like a good girl, but it was getting increasingly hard as Jake quickened his pace. I had to stop and I looked at Josh pleadingly. “I’m gonna need your help, baby.” He only nodded and the three of us shifted a bit, so that Josh too was on his knees now, his cock right in front of my face. He placed his hands on both sides of my head and slid his cock inside my mouth until he hit my throat and I gagged loudly. He quickly withdrew and hesitated. 

Josh once told me that he loved to gag on cock, but not everyone did, and after a few accidents, he stopped doing that to others. I assured him that I personally liked messy blowjobs, and I showed him, too…but I was always in control. He never fucked my face before. “Don’t worry,” I whispered in between my audible exhales. “You love it… I love it.... This is good…And he did.” 

And he did. And he wasn’t gentle about it, finally understanding how much I craved this. More than one hole, indeed, and I could easily accommodate them both. We made quite a mess together. I could feel droplets of Jake’s sweat landing on my back as saliva ran down my chin and tears down my cheeks. The noises they were making, the smell of their skin..I was getting high on just that. Fuck the whole world, I wanna stay here. 

Jake was getting close. I could hear it in the tone of his own moans. It’s just different: louder and more natural, no longer restrained. It wasn’t because Josh was there, that’s just how he is…unless he’s relaxed or tipsy, or both. And that’s also how I can tell he’s about to unload.  He just no longer cares, losing himself in the moment. I wish he knew just how sexy that is!

He grabbed me by my biceps and pulled me up to him, making me abandon Josh’s leaking dick momentarily. I had no time to feel sorry about that, because with the change of position, he could now hit that perfect spot inside me so well that I got goosebumps. I snaked my hands behind me to hold on to his hips as he continued pounding into me. I could feel his hot breath on the side of my neck, his parted lips barely touching my skin. The sensation was so similar to what Josh was doing just a moment earlier that my breath hitched. All these subtle reminders that they were in fact identical twins always made my pussy spasm, especially when the sensory quality of those little reminders was this superior. The two of them definitely don’t need to look up the definition of “sensual” in the dictionary. 

My train of thoughts turned my attention back to Josh, and I opened my eyes to see him watching us with his mouth open and his hand wrapped firmly around his cock. The son of a bitch obviously enjoyed the sight, and I couldn’t blame him, because he was quite a sight, too. He wasn’t in a hurry, stroking himself slowly in order to save his love juice for me. Just then Jake darted his tongue out and licked a long stripe up my jugular while he hit that spot again. “Come on Bebe, give it to me,” he pleaded in my ear, meaning he was already reaching that edge. That pushed me past mine. My mouth opened in a silent scream and I came hard on his cock. 

He wrapped his arms around me and after four more jerky thrusts, he spilled inside me, each shot accompanied by a loud, howling moan. 

After he released me, I fell back on my arms right in front of Josh. I darted my tongue out and he met me halfway in a messy kiss. “How do you want me?” I whispered when we parted. 

“On your back,” he commanded. 

And I obliged. “Hold her,” Josh uttered in a low, raspy tone, and Jake’s hands wrapped around my wrists, pulling my arms over my head. Josh grabbed my knees, forcing my legs apart, threw one leg over his shoulder, positioned himself and slowly sank his dick inside me, making me hiss. 

“Are you sore?” he asked softly, while his fingers caressed my belly. I was a bit, but not enough for it to be unpleasant. “No,” I shook my head slowly, blinking lazily. I felt him pulsate inside me, his rock hard dick begging to be cherished. I squeezed around him, begging him to go on. He made the slightest move and exhaled heavily, dropping his head down. Josh was sensitive. Not in a way that he couldn’t last long, quite on the contrary sometimes, but the way he expressed himself during sex always made you think that he was going to jump out of his skin any moment. 

He looked at me again, stroked my cheek and I closed my eyes momentarily. “Tired?” he whispered. Oh for fuck’s sake, Joshua! Stop acting like a nurse and fuck me senseless. But I decided to reward the sweetheart in him by being kind. He meant well. “No, I think there might be one more,” I smiled quasi-sweetly at him and he repaid me with a vicious grin. Grabbing my hips firmly, he started pumping into me. 

It was intense. Maybe a bit too intense. I wasn’t by any means raw, but I surely felt a bit overstimulated already, and my legs started shaking. 

I could feel another orgasm building, but this one would be almost painful. I could already tell. I didn’t care. I wanted this. I needed this. Josh kept stroking my thighs in a vain attempt to soothe me, but I did not want to be soothed. I needed fireworks, and he was already striking sparks deep in my core with each stroke. Pleasure and pain. 

Jake leaned down and kissed my lips tenderly. A sudden wave of electricity shot through my whole body. This whole experience was far better than I expected. No matter how fucked out I already was, they managed to shot new waves of fresh arousal through my system. I felt completely lightheaded, floating an inch above the mattress again. Then it hit me, and my whole body convulsed. I screamed and thrashed about in between them. Jake released me and at the same time, Josh leaned down and wrapped his arms around me to prevent himself from slipping out. I did the same, squeezing him tight. Two more powerful thrusts and then he suddenly stopped, inhaled sharply and squealed in my ear as he came inside me. 

It was just the beginning…

@its-interesting-van-kleep @takenbythemadness @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @ignite-my-fire @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @fleet-of-fiction @lvnterninthenight @myownparadise96 @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @sanguinebats @thewritingbeforesunrise @wetkleenex-gvf @lyndz2names @emojakekiszka @hollyco @lizzys-sunflower @fleetingjake @cheersdannyx2 @gvfstuddedmajesty @gvfmarge @dayumclarizzel @musicislove3389 @lipstickitty @seenoversundown @gretnavannfleet @gretasfallingsky @peaceloveunitygvf @clownstarr @watchingover-hypegirl

[homunculus-argument]

You ever have those "huh, so that was probably neglect" realisations about your childhood halfway through a completely casual day? As we're going through the "having to take two showers a day to not constantly stink up the place" -season, I'm having some hindsight realisations about the way I was raised.

I was a really fucking gross kid. Stinky, constantly sticky with something, with dirt under my nails as a permanent fixture and probably a pinecone stuck somewhere in my hair. I know bullies will always find some reason to pick on this one in particular when someone's weird and not good at making friends, but bad hygiene was definitely their main thing about me. I didn't really care for being clean and didn't notice if I smelled, but even when being bullied for it felt bad, I still wouldn't remember to take that shower once I got home from school.

I was a weird, gross, feral kid whom other kids treat like something infectuous and diseased, and that was just who I was as a person. I don't think I started remembering to actually shower regularly before I was like 14-15.

Being an adult, seeing other peoples' kids, and noticing how other adults your own age handle them makes you do some connections. I was an inherently gross kid, but all kids are inherently gross. They will get themselves sticky, and won't bathe on their own. How many parents carry things like napkins and wet wipes to keep their little goblins at a minimal levels of scrungly. Parents whose kids don't maintain hygeine on their own from the age of seven onward don't just bi-annually shrug and go "well, you should try harder to remember that" any more than they would with homework. Parents are supposed to notice that their kids don't shower - and remind them to do so - before bullies do.

Parents whose kids are incompetent at looking after themselves won't just go "well, that's who they choose to be as a person." They're supposed to look after them.

[humanityinahandbag]

Steddie Modern AU: TikTok

Steve would absolutely be that guy who would not understand TikTok. He and Eddie are older by the time it comes out, and most of the content there is of young kids going completely buck wild. Steve of course disapproves, hands on his hips, huffing about no supervision these days even though he was absolutely a terror in high school.

Eddie, rock star that he is, gets it to an extent. "They're expressing themselves!" he'd say.

Steve would only shake his phone around and point aggressively to a video playing on loop of a young man dancing along to some new trendy song, trying his hardest to seem cool and popular. "This isn't expression," he'd say, mother hen voice at top volume. "This is them trying to peacock to the world!"

"You did that once, too, Stevie."

"Yeah, and I was a little shit!"

And so Steve, in an effort to curb the young teenage population and keep them from making his mistakes (mostly due to parental neglect and hopeless, crushing self deprivation), would start his own TikTok channel.

"Hey there," he says into the camera, because for all the pride around his good looks, he has zero clue how to record a video of himself. "My names Steve, and I've been noticing a bunch of you on here who are out of control! Listen to me, alright? You need to dial it back. All that shit in high school is completely null and void when you're an adult. Trust me. From a former popular asshole, there's better shit you could be doing. Now let me show you how to scramble an egg."

His videos mostly consist of simple lessons. Giving out little pieces of advice. Teaching them basic life skills he had to learn on his own. How to cook. How to clean. How to iron a polo shirt. How to style your hair. How to do laundry. How to do basic first aid.

He often becomes transparent, telling them about his own childhood.

Sometimes he brings Eddie into his videos.

"This is my husband's favorite," he says, by way of explanation as he shows TikTok how to make pasta sauce from scratch. "He used to eat spaghetti out of a can. A fucking can!"

Despite his posturing on stage, Eddie becomes shy whenever a camera is in his face, and ducks his head away, smiling quietly towards the camera. "It's not that bad," he says.

"Not that- The sodium in that could kill an elephant!" Steve laughs.

"Yeah, well... I don't want you doing too much for me."

"I like doing things for you."

Eddie flushes and ducks his head, hiding his face away behind a curtain of curls.

Steve leans over a kisses his temple, pushing him gently out of frame where he'll be more comfortable, before turning back to the camera. "Anyway, this recipe is great if you're on your own for long periods of time. Especially because you can freeze some for later. Now the trick here is garlic. Let me show you how to peel it without making a huge mess!"

It's a month later where Dustin shows up at their door and shoves his phone into Steve's face. "Why the fuck," he'd snap, "are you trending?"

It turns out, the tiny community that Steve had been lecturing to wasn't as small as he originally thought.

There are so many kids out there desperate for parental affection, and they look to Steve, feeding off his pride, his kindness, his stories, his advice. Not only that but the fact that they get to see a former bully, a former popular kid, a man who grew up from neglect, become someone happy and married?

That's just... so wonderful.

"I've been on TikTok from the beginning and I only have, like, two thousand followers."

"So what? I don't have that many."

"You've got three million, Steve," said Dustin. Steve was not expecting that, squinting at the phone screen in his face. "Three fucking million! People are stitching your videos saying you guys are their new dads," Dustin squawked. "How did you not know you were this popular!?"

"I didn't know how to check my follower count!" Steve said, sincerely. It wasn't like he actually checked the thing! He just enjoyed making videos.

"You're so old."

"Hey," said Eddie from the kitchen, "don't talk about your mother that way."

"Yeah!" agreed Steve. "Don't talk to me that way! Now get into my next video so I can introduce you to your three million siblings."

And that is why I firmly believe that, if given the chance, Steve (and subsequently, Eddie) would absolutely become the internet's favorite parental figure(s).

[vilnmelling]

do you have any more richie tidbits :D

Trust me, I have a LOT to say about Richard Lipschitz. As he's my current hyperfixation character, I have made it my mission to find out everything there is to know about him, and of course also to make as many headcanons as possible about him. Now LET'S GO, ALL SORTS OF RICHIE STUFF!

Canon/half canon facts and trivia (AKA things said/done either in NPMD, in track commentaries or in streams)

As he says a couple of times in NPMD, he has overactive sweat glands, meaning he sweats more than the average person, and that he doesn't smell very good.

He also has asthma, as Bury the Bully confirms.

Shapiro asks the nerds if they're sure they didn't see Richie in their AP calculus class, so we can assume Richie's good at math.

Richie's quite skilled with a camera, and he knows how to photoshop (whether or not he's good at it is up for debate *glances at Ruth's playbill headshot*).

His favorite anime is Attack on Titan.

He would absolutely dye his hair blue.

He cosplays, and if he could afford to, he would make ELABORATE cosplays.

Richie's bedroom: his walls are absolutely decked out in anime posters, he has tons and tons of plushes, and he has a glass case of Funko Pops. Then he also has his anime love pillows, of course.

He did some Twitch streaming in 2020.

Once, he tried to organize a Pokemon Go meet-up, but no one showed up.

He's not as brave as he would like to be.

He doesn't seem to be a big fan of parties.

Out of the nerds, he was the one who felt the worst about what they did to Max.

My personal observations and headcanons

Richie's a shorts guy, all year around. He only has one or two pairs of long pants in his closet. It doesn't matter how cold it gets during the winter; he still wears shorts. He would've worn shorts to Homecoming. He'd be one questionable decision away from wearing shorts at his own wedding.

He and Trevor are identical twins, and Trevor is eleven minutes older. Even though Trevor's barely interested in anime and Richie's hardly at all interested in musicals, they watch them together. It's a weekly thing that they sit down in the living room, argue for five minutes about whether to watch an anime or a musical ("We watched Newsies last time." "Bullshit, that was like a month ago, we've watched anime the last two times at least!" "And what pray tell may those animes be, Trevor?"), then settle on one but talk over it the entire time. One of them always gets annoyed at the other for not keeping up with the storyline, but if you think they're gonna stop talking over them, you're wrong.

Daniel's their younger brother by five years. Neither of them know about Daniel's abilities nor about the fact that he's part of a magical fighting ring. (Their uncle, Gary, takes Daniel in secret, and they've told the rest of the family that Gary's taking Daniel to some sports practice. Trevor and Richie have ongoing bets about where Daniel keeps getting loads and loads of money from, and they constantly make deals with him to earn some money for themselves (doing Daniel's chores, watching stupid superhero movies with him, etc..))

His full name is Richard Jonathan _____ Lipschitz. Jonathan as a middle name is a family name for all the men in the Matthews-Goldstein-Lipschitz-McNeil family, and then they all have their own second middle name.

Trevor and Richie's birthday is somewhere in June. Richie was just so fucking clearly born in June.

When they were kids (8-12), they would make shitty movies and movie trailers on iMovie on their iPad. Most often, Richie would film and Trevor would play all the roles. Sometimes they'd involve Daniel and their cousins from their father's side of the family, then they'd force all the adults to watch their movies. Their greatest hit films include 'The Children in the Drawers', 'The Green Plant', 'The Murderer in the Barn' and 'The Boy Who Went to the Bathroom and Disappeared' (definitely not named after the shitty iMovie trailers and movies my sister, cousins and I made when we were kids).

Richie and Ruth met for the first time on a playground the summer before their first year of school. They played together for an hour or two before Ruth had to go home, and parted as typical six-year-old strangers who played pirates on a playground once. When they started school a month and a half later, they ended up in the same class, and they immediately recognized each other, and since then they've been besties. (Ruth met Pete at tap class, and that was how Pete completed the trio).

Based on a whole fuck ton of things in both the proshot and the digital ticket, I have no choice but to think Richie's down bad for Ruth, and that she's equally whipped. Richie's 110% oblivious to how he's feeling. He's not in denial or anything, he just has no idea. I'm talking, "Seeing her smile makes my stomach do cartwheels, but that doesn't mean anything." "That dress she wore once made me speechless, but that's just because she's such a good friend." "Yes, I could imagine myself kissing her, but that doesn't have to mean anything." He gives her an almost Paul-level heart-eyes look, she's fucking constantly looking at him, he fully checks her out in the digital ticket (involving nodding and hand gestures), she giggles at every lame joke he makes like it's the funniest thing she's heard, how angry he is that Pete wouldn't want to be with her, she beelines for him after "arguing" with Steph, he hypes her up when Max compliments her skeleton bit, and they're pretty much incapable of standing more than three millimeters away from each other. I mean, come on.

Analyses are on the way!

I've spent a lot of my time delving into story analysis, and I'm about to make an analysis video focusing mainly on Max and Richie (Richie's death, in particular). The script is done, I just have to film and edit it, but then it'll be up on Youtube!

Another analysis video idea I have is to make a video purely dedicated to breaking down each of the main characters and unearthing their internal conflicts, goals, desires, fears and misbeliefs. I've already got a pretty good idea of Richie's motivations and fears, so I'm quite excited about this one...

And there ya go, a bunch of Richie stuff!

[sister-lucifer]

Bully

Toby x Male reader

Reader uses he/him and has a penis

summary: you and toby get paired up for a group project, he pressures you into letting him come over to work on it, antics ensue

Genres: Smut

warnings/content: SLUR USE, bullying obvi, degradation, dubcon/noncon, male reader is made to cross dress(skirts and lingerie), , toby likes to hurt you, humiliation, low key blackmail, LIKE SERIOUSLY TOBY IS MEAN HERE AND HE LIKES EMBARRASSING YOU HES SO NASTY HERE

To avoid any confusion, in my headcanons Toby has a stutter as well as but separate from his tourette’s. I am not writing his tics, I am writing his stutter.

Group projects. The bane of your existence. The absolute worst way to go about getting things done.

You were an adult, you were more than capable of doing an assignment on your own. Group projects never once worked in your favor. Your group was always lazy or uncooperative or just didn’t show up all together. 

This was going to be awful. 

You watched with growing dismay as people paired off to begin working. One by one your professor called names, and you still remained. The anticipation was killing you. 

Finally he turned and pointed in your direction. 

“You, you’re with–” He glanced at his paper. 

“...Tobias.” 

You were going to cry. 

Your jaw dropped as you looked over at Toby. He was leaning back in his chair with his muddy shoes on the desk, smirking at you, his messy nest of dark brown hair going in all directions. 

You hated him. And to your knowledge, he hated you. He pushed you in the hallways, messed up your stuff, dumped your backpack out. He acted like a middle school bully from a movie. 

His words replayed in your mind as you stared at his smug face.

“Awww, are y-you gonna cry? What a little bitch.” 

“H-Have you been avoiding me? You know damn well I told you n-not to do that.” 

“I-If you have such an issue with me you should do s-something about it, but of course you w-won’t. You’re too much of a pussy.”

He was an awful, vulgar boy. 

You stared down at your desk. 

Your life was over. The world was ending. The ground was crumbling beneath your feet. Everything–

Oh shit, the bell rang.

You gathered your stuff as quickly as you could, not looking back as you hurried out of the classroom. Maybe you could make it to the parking lot before he found you, maybe–

“Hey, where do you think y-you’re going?” A deep voice spoke from behind you, accompanied by a strong hand gripping your shoulder. 

Dammit. 

“Um, I–“ 

“We’re p-partners, aren’t we? We should work together.” His smile would’ve seemed genuine if he was literally anyone else, but on him it was unsettling.  

“Well, yeah, but, um…” You trailed off, trying desperately to think of an excuse but your mind was blank. 

“How about,” he began, turning you around rather forcefully, “we h-head over to your place, yeah? We can start our research or whatever-r.” 

“I–” 

Oh god, why weren’t you SAYING ANYTHING?! 

“Sounds great! You’ve g-got a car, right? We’ll take that!” 

And now he’s shoving you along to the parking lot. Great. 

Unfortunately for you, you had no idea what you just got forced to do agreed to.

He put a hand on your lower back and kept it there the entire way, making sure you kept up with him. He was talking up a storm despite the fact that you didn’t really respond; his words were meaningless chatter filled to the brim with curses and innuendos that always made your face heat up. You stared down at your feet the whole way, your mind racing with thoughts of what on earth he could possibly have planned. 

You only came back to reality when you found yourself starting your car, Toby in the passenger's seat beside you, feet up on the dash. 

“I h-hope your house isn’t a fucking pig sty. You better have good booze t-too.” 

You weren’t even there yet and he was already being demanding. 

You wanted to tell him to shut his trap, but you knew you couldn’t. You were too afraid. Toby was right, you were kind of a pussy. You really, really didn’t want to anger him, so you endured his bullying. 

You sighed as you began backing out of your parking space. 

You ignored him the whole way there, though he didn’t seem to mind. He rambled on anyway. He didn’t let his condition stop him from being talkative, which would be admirable if he wasn’t such an asshole.

You didn’t say a word when you pulled into your driveway and got out of your car. You really, really didn’t want him in your house, but you were in too deep to refuse him

now. Your hands were shaky when you grabbed your house key and unlocked the door. 

“Um, here it is,” You said quietly, stepping to the side to let Toby enter. He wasted no time, walking in like he owned the place and promptly kicking off his shoes.

“You got this whole p-place to yourself?” 

“No, my parents live here,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Then where are they no-ow?” 

“Um, vacation ‘til next week.” 

“Oh?” 

He smiled at you in a familiarly unsettling manner. Oh god, why did you tell him that?! Now he knows you’re here alone! Oh fuck–

He walked over to you and put his hand on your back again. 

“At least we won’t be interrupted, r-right?” He said through a toothy grin. His tone was much more ominous than it should have been, and it sent a chill down your spine. 

“Um–” You couldn’t muster a full sentence, your mouth dry with a sudden fear. 

He moved his hand to your shoulder and shoved you with all his strength, laughing as you stumbled, trying not to fall from the sudden force. 

“Let’s-s go up to your room, yeah?” 

You didn’t turn to look at him. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing your face contorted in embarrassment. You only nodded as you turned to head towards the stairs. 

You didn’t see the way Toby shamelessly eyed up your ass as you walked. God, those dress pants made you look so fucking good.

You felt a sense of dread as your door creaked open, Toby a few steps behind you. You didn’t want him in your house, let alone your personal space, but he’d already pushed past you and let himself in. 

“Nice place ya got h-here.” He commented, flopping down on your bed. You opened your mouth to protest, but quickly thought better of it. You could wash everything later.

You set your bag down and pulled out some books and a binder, when you realized you were missing something. 

“Oh, I think my laptop is downstairs. I’ll be right back.” 

You hurried out of the room and shut the door behind you, desperately needing a moment to collect your thoughts. You really did leave your laptop downstairs, but you needed a minute. Or two. Or twenty. 

“Hurry the fuck up!” Toby called after you. 

It only took a few seconds for him to decide he was bored. Maybe some snooping would entertain him for a bit. You had to have some sort of awful secret thing hidden in here. There’s no way a perfect little student like you didn’t have a dirty secret, right? Maybe a porn stash, or stolen money, anything that would make you look  bad.

He checked under the mattress, nothing hidden there. He checked under your bed, nothing but a few lost socks. He checked your closet, everything seemed normal. 

He groaned dramatically. 

Absolutely nothing.

He was starting to give up hope as he pulled open your drawers one by one. 

Then he saw it. 

Stuffed in the very bottom drawer was a stack of skirts, accompanied by a couple of very expensive looking pairs of lacy underwear. 

He gasped, his face breaking out into his signature sinister grin.

His eyes were drawn to two things in particular: A black skirt with frills and a seemingly matching pair of underwear, both with white bows on the sides. 

Oh, this was exactly what he wanted.

When you’d finally collected yourself and worked up the courage to head back to your room and face him, you had no idea what was in store for you. You were still looking at the floor when you opened the door and closed it behind you, laptop tucked under your arm. 

“Ok, now we can–“ 

Your heart dropped when you looked up, your laptop crashing to the floor. 

Toby had the black skirt draped over his arm and the lingerie in the same hand. His other hand held his phone, and he had already taken plenty of photos. And yet, he kept taking more. This was just too good. 

“What are you doing?!” You shrieked, trying to snatch the clothing from him. Unfortunately for you he was six feet tall, and it was more than easy enough for him to simply hold them above your head. 

“Awww, are y-you embarrassed that i found your dirty little secret?” He teased in the most demeaning tone he could muster. “Not t-to mention that now I’ve g-got proof that you’re a little slut.” He waved his phone in the air.

You could already feel your eyes start to tear up. Oh god, this couldn’t be happening.

“I-I am not!” You argued, weakly tugging on his arm. “Please, Toby! It’s none of your business! Delete them!” 

“Give me one good reason w-why I should!” He yelled back, pushing you to the ground. You landed with a small yelp. 

Toby put his phone in his back pocket so he could use both hands to inspect the items. 

“You’re the one leaving your shit o-out in the open for m-me to find.” Okay, that was a lie, but it’s not like it mattered. Plus, the more blame he could put on you the better. 

“P-Please, Toby.” You whined. 

“P-P-P-Pleeeaasee Toby!” He mocked, imitating your voice. “What? You worried I’m gonna t-tell everyone you’re a nasty fuckin’ fag?” You shrunk back in embarrassment, looking at the ground. 

When he looked back at the clothing in his hand, he couldn’t help but let his imagination run wild. If you looked that damn good in dress pants, you’d only look better in these–

His eyes lit up with an idea. 

“Put ‘em on.” 

You froze. No, there’s no way he just said that. 

“What?” You whispered, not daring to look up at him.

He knelt down in front of you, speaking in a low tone. “Put ‘em on for me. Now.” He grabbed your face roughly, forcing you to look at him.

“No, I can’t,” You choked out, tears threatening to spill over. 

“Oh, but you can. After all, it would be a sh-shame if these photos made their rounds around the school-l.” He patted his back pocket where he was keeping his phone. 

“You wouldn’t!” 

“Oh, but I would. Buuuut…” He shoved the skirt and lingerie into your hands. “If y-you behave for me, this can stay between us.” 

You gripped the fabric hard, weighing your options. Finally you nodded, Toby letting go of you and stepping back. 

You stood on shaky legs, turning towards the door. Just when your hand was on the knob, Toby spoke, stopping you in your tracks. 

“I didn’t tell you to leave.” 

You shuddered. 

“You asked me to put them on, I’m just going to the bathroom,” You replied, meekly looking back at him. 

“I didn’t tell you to leave.” He repeated, quickly becoming frustrated when you just stood there. “Turn around.”

You could feel your lip quivering when you whispered a “no, please.” 

“Turn around. Now.” 

This time you managed to make your body move, turning to face him but not moving your gaze from the floor. 

“Put them on. I’m n-not asking again.”

He paused. When that didn’t seem to work, he spoke again, getting closer this time and leaning down to be eye level with you. 

“If y-you don’t fucking listen to me, I’m gonna tear your clothes off and dress you m-myself. Nod if you understand.”

You nodded. You had no other choice. 

“Good boy.” He praised, his words laced with degradation as he patted your head. He pulled up your bean bag chair and flopped down in it so he had a good view. 

“Gimme a show, pretty boy.” 

You would never admit it, but his words made your cock twitch. 

You turned away from him as you went to unzip your pants, fumbling with it for a few moments. 

“Nuh-Uh!” Toby suddenly interrupted. “S-Shirt first. I don’t want you in a-anything except what I picked out. And turn around, or else.” 

It took all of your courage to face him, trembling hands clumsily unbuttoning your collared shirt. 

“Thaaats it,” He groaned. He adjusted his sitting position, legs open and hard-on painfully obvious. “Niiiice ‘n’ slow.”

The cold air hit you hard when you slipped off your shirt, letting it fall to the ground. You sucked in a breath, glancing up at Toby through your now wet lashes. 

You bit your lip as you hesitantly moved your hands back down to your zipper. You hoped so badly that he would call it off, that he would laugh and tell you it was all a joke, but he didn’t.  

So, with shaky hands you slipped your pants off and kicked them to the side. A strangled noise escaped Toby’s throat. Everything you wore hugged you so perfectly, and now that he could get a good look at your bulge you looked even better. 

You gulped as you hooked your thumbs under the waistband of your boxers. Toby could clearly see you trembling. You were so pathetic and submissive, and that was exactly how he liked you. You’d do anything he asked, whether you wanted to or not. 

He let you squirm in place for a few moments before he spoke. 

“C’mon, you can d-do it.” For some reason, you could sense just the slightest hint of reassurance behind his words, but you quickly shook away this thought. 

You took in a deep breath, biting your tongue, and slid your hands downward, bringing your boxers with them. You could feel your entire body heat up, every inch of you on fire. 

You didn’t want to stand back up. You were hidden well this way, so you grabbed the lingerie and started stepping into them while still bent over. 

“Stand up.” 

Goddammit. He wasn’t giving you anything. 

“N-No.” You managed to reply. 

“Yes. I’m not fucking asking.” 

Silence from you. 

“Now, bitch. Let me see what I came here for. Or else–I c-could always send the pictures now?” 

You flinched just from his words. 

Still gripping the lingerie, you shakily stood all the way up, hugging yourself as hard as you could. You stared at a spot on the wall, focusing all your energy into pretending this wasn’t happening. 

“Oh my g-god,” Toby muttered. “You’re fuckin’ massive.” He seemed genuinely amazed. He was looking forward to making fun of you for being small, but this was a welcome alternative. 

“Aww, and you’re already half hard! Don’t t-tell me you’re enjoying this, whore.”

You clamped a hand over your mouth. You leaned back over to step into the lingerie, cringing when you brought them all the way up. They barely covered you, which was the point, but this was not a scenario you ever expected to be using them in, not to mention they were fitting less and less of you the harder you got.

Putting on the skirt was the least painful part of the process. The only issue was that zipping it up in the back with shaky hands was easier said than done. 

You froze when you heard Toby chuckle.

“Looks-s like you’re struggling a bit. C’mere, let me h-help.” He said, patting his lap. 

You took a hesitant step forward, then another, then another, until you were lowering yourself onto his lap. He wrapped a strong arm around you and pressed you as close as he could, simply holding you there for a long moment. You cautiously moved to rest your hands on his sides, and he let out a small, content sigh. 

It was almost…nice. 

His free hand moved to yank up on the zipper of your skirt rather roughly, bringing a small yelp out of you. 

Toby pushed back to get a better look at you, moving your hands to his shoulders. 

“Aren't you a pretty th-thing.” 

His rands ran up and down your sides, taking in the bare skin. His thumbs ghosted over your chest, making you shudder. 

Eventually his hands moved down to your thighs, giving them a soft squeeze. When they moved back up, they went under your skirt, shamelessly groping you. He lifted the skirt to get a better look at your back end, licking his lips. 

“Pretty, pretty, pretty.” He repeated under his breath. 

He nuzzled into your neck gently. His hands roamed anywhere they could get to. Your legs, your back, your chest, anywhere he could touch, and it kept your entire body tense. You kept expecting him to make some sort of violent sudden movement, to hit you or push you over, but he never did. He was slow and steady.

“You look s-so good in this, I couldn't bear to take them off-f you.” 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Was that his way of telling you this torture was finally over? 

Suddenly his hands moved to your hips, his grip tightening. He pushed them outward so that you were sort of bending over, your back end out. He pushed the lingerie to the side to shove two fingers in you without warning, and without any sort of lubrication, making you let out a pathetic cry. 

Oh, it was far from over.

“Toby–!”  

“Shhhhh…”

He thrusted his fingers in and out of you at a rough pace, hitting as deep as he could, never slowing despite your protests. Truth be told it was mostly just to prolong your embarrassment. 

“Toby please, stop–! you’re going too fast!” 

“Aww, am I-I hurting you? Are you too fuckin’ weak to even take m-my fingers? Pathetic.” 

Your whines and whimpers only encouraged him, and soon he was adding a third finger. His free hand held a tight grip on your hair, keeping you in place. Your now fully erect cock twitched with every movement, and you found yourself desperately gripping onto his sweatshirt for dear life. You cursed yourself when you got the urge to wrap your arms around him. He was surprisingly warm, and you wanted so badly to just collapse against him. 

But you hated him, right? 

And he hated you, right?

“Toby–! I-I cant, please–! No more!” 

Just when you were ready to lose your mind, just when you were sure you couldn’t possibly take any more of the abuse, he pulled his fingers out suddenly. You breathed a sigh of relief, letting your body finally relax, Your chin resting on his shoulder. 

Although, the calm wouldn't last very long.

His hand slid down to grip your wrist, moving your hand to his belt. 

“Take it off.” 

You knew better than to hesitate this time. You unbuckled his belt and slid it off, to which he promptly discarded it. He looked at you expectantly, wondering if you’d figure out what he wanted you to do next on your own. 

You glanced up at him for approval when your hands moved to his zipper, and when he nodded, you tugged it down. He ran his tongue over his teeth and swallowed hard. He was already having trouble controlling himself, but he wanted so badly to take his time. 

Even beneath his boxers you could tell he was huge, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t scare you a bit. 

You slipped two fingers under the waistband of his boxers, and sucked in a deep breath before pulling them down just enough for his erection to spring free. He threw his head back, letting out a moan. 

“Fuuuck, that’s s-so much better.” 

God, he was big. He couldn’t help but laugh at the way your eyes widened. 

He moved to grip your hips once more, this time pushing the lingerie to the side as he positioned you over his cock. 

“Toby?” You rasped in a whispery tone. There’s no way he thought that thing was gonna fit in you.

“Yeeeessss?” 

“You–Y-You’re not gonna–That’s not gonna fit!” 

You hid your face in the crook of his neck. 

“Awww, don’t worry b-baby.” He replied, his hot breath fanning over your neck. 

“I’ll make it fit.”’

You didn’t get a second to process his words before he shoved you down, forcing you to take all of him at once, and you screamed. 

“Toby! Stop it! It’s too big! Please!” 

But he ignored you. 

He wasted no time finding a brutal pace, pounding into you like his life depended on it.

The stretch was almost unbearable, leaving you to dig your nails deep into his shoulders; not that he could feel it. It was heavy in your belly, too, and when he was all the way in you could see the outline of his cock inside you.

At least you didn’t have to do much of the work…although, the fact that he was strong enough to physically lift you up and down on his cock was terrifying. 

“Toby, please! It hurts–!” 

“It fucking better!” He growled, showing his teeth like a feral animal. He was practically foaming at the mouth, drooling through gritted teeth. He was losing his mind. 

You could already feel your hips bruising with the vicious hold he had on you. Each thrust was accompanied by an animalistic grunt and the occasional curse. 

“God, fuck! T-Tight little bitch!” 

He was panting like a dog now, tongue unfurled as he moaned shamelessly. 

You, on the other hand, were trying so, so desperately to keep quiet, but with each thrust another strangled noise of depravity slipped through your gritted teeth. 

“Toby,” You whimpered, resting your head on his shoulder. You gave in and wrapped your arms around him, holding him as tight as you could. 

It was nice.

He was warm. 

A gentle gesture juxtaposed with the way he was jackhammering into you with all his strength. 

His teeth sunk into your shoulder, not incredibly hard, but more than enough to hurt. 

You whined, turning your head so that your lips just barely ghosted over his neck. In a moment of boldness you planted a gentle kiss on his jaw, then another on his neck. 

This made him happier than you would ever know. 

“Oh g-god. You make it so hard t-to last.” He could feel himself coming undone, but he sure as hell wasn’t finishing before you. 

You were bouncing on your own now, meaning he could use a hand to dip under your skirt and into your underwear, wrapping a hand around your cock and fisting it as fast as he could. 

“Toby! Too much!” You protested, but your words had no weight to them. You made no effort to stop or even slow your movements, loving the way he hit all of the perfect spots inside of you. He left no part untouched. 

“Is my pretty b-boy gonna cum? Are you?” 

You could only nod in response, your attempt at words coming out as a mess of moans and whines. 

“C’mon then baby, you c-can do it.” 

His words were enough to push you over the edge, and with one last cry you released all over his hand, soaking your skirt and expensive lingerie. 

Oh well, he was more than willing to get you more. 

“Oh god–! Just when i thought you c-couldn’t possibly get any fuckin’ tighter–!” He slurred through gritted teeth, absolutely relishing in the way you clenched around him.

His pace was becoming erratic, both of his hands back on your hips now as he effortlessly moved your body as if you weighed nothing. 

“G-Gonna fuckin’ fill you to the brim–” 

He sunk his teeth into your shoulder again, harder this time, spots of red staining his pearly whites as he thrusted into you for the last few times, his moans muffled by your flesh between his teeth as he came inside of you. 

With what little of your voice you had left you managed to scream his name one last time.

Finally he slowed to a stop, his cum leaking down your legs despite his best efforts to keep it inside of you. It was warm and thick, and he put a gentle hand on your belly where we could tell you’d been filled. You didn’t think you’d ever be empty again. 

You fell forward against him, not even bothering to pull yourself off of his cock. You both wrapped your arms around each other, catching your breath in a comfortable silence. He rubbed up and down your back gently, nuzzling into your neck. 

When you finally sat up again, you immediately met his eyes. They were no longer intimidating and cold, instead filled with content and a soft happiness. He leaned forward to give you a long but tender kiss. 

“H-Hey,” He spoke when he pulled away. 

“D’ya th-think I could spend the night?”