#and I'm encouraging him because it's what he wants to do

[elf-kid2]

Alright, I know there are bigger things to think about, but LOOK AT THIS!

This is the first time we've EVER seen Stella wearing anything less than a full ballgown. Also, note the fact that she and her brother are both still wearing their crowns, even while doing an at-home spa-day thing.

Now, regarding the staff-- Three of these people worked for Stolas & Stella.

The forth imp present is from Andrealphus's staff.

They've all had their uniforms updated to suite Andrealphus's recent rise to power. And they're all looking VERY STRESSED, right now!

We've talked before about how Stolas's treatment of his staff... could be better.

We've also talked about how Stolas most likely did his best to moderate Stella's temper-- either through appeasement, or through making himself her main target, or both-- mostly for the sake of protecting Octavia.

But now, the ENTIRE HOUSEHOLD has to deal with Stella and Andrealphus encouraging and escalating each other's problematic tendancies, without Stolas there to act as a buffer.

Seriously, the way the Butler's eyes are darting around, the look on his face-- I'm not sure we've EVER seen him this stressed before! Even when his Boss was having a very loud emotional crisis and hiding in the FRIDGE, he wasn't this stressed out!

Done with the melodramatic royal bullshit making a mess, but not that legit scared for his life kinda stressed!

Now let's remember, these people have had a front-row seat for everything going on with their employers-- Stolas & Stella's trashfire marriage. Stella's extremely open disdain for her (now-EX) husband. Stolas's affair, and how it escalated from a monthly booty-call, to the current situation...

Also. I want to mention the fact that Stolas's ongoing attempts to reach Octavia throughout the month are the only proof she has that he's still alive, after having been banished & left with only the clothes on his back.

Again. The nobility only know that Stolas is still alive because Stella won't stop gossiping about his hilarious attempts to call & talk to his daughter.

I'm hoping that we get to see some stuff from the perspective of the Imp Staff at the Palace. If not in canon, then in fanfic. Because they know ALL the gossip, and I'm very curious about what the situation looks like-- what BLITZ looks like-- from their point of view.

[nochepsicodelica]

NSFW

"Don't forget how badly you said you wanted this when it gets to be too much, 'kay, mama?"

A warning that you paid no mind to and instead giggled at, because Toji kissed your knuckles and your forehead when he finished binding your wrists together. You thought he wouldn't be too hard on you, and even if he was, you have a trick up your sleeve. You know that if you beg hard enough with shimmering eyes, he becomes a little more lenient. He eases up on you and gentleness starts to seep into his actions.

Well, that didn't work. Not this time. This time, he wanted to give you everything you asked for and more.

"Fuck..." Toji groans. "Look at that, ma." He displays his cum soaked, glistening fingers and shows you an update on the juices that have made their way down his wrist. "Come on, open your eyes and look," he says, patting your thigh.

Your bottom lip quivers and your eyes flutter open, your dim, weary gaze darting to the face of the man inflicting all these varying sensations your body is feeling.

"Not at my mug. Look at my hand and my forearm," Toji instructs, trying hard not to smirk at how utterly debauched you look. You look like you're going to cry, again. "Messy girl, you did that."

You mumble something quiet and unintelligible, and like a shark, Toji devours your pathetic attempt to speak. "Louder. I know you can be louder, or do you need some encouragement?" He asks, ghosting the knuckle of his index finger along your slit, resulting in your body full on jolting.

"Sorry!" You cry out, loud enough to have Toji laughing at your frantic repetition. "I said-- said i'm sorry," you stutter out, your voice unsteady.

You're ruined, yet somehow, this is a sight that has Toji's heart racing, like he's falling in love with you for the millionth time. It puts him through a conflict. It makes him want to be nice to you, it also makes him want to add on to your ruin, but more than anything, it sadistically makes him want to see you cry, again.

"Don't be sorry. This is what you wanted, right?" Toji groans, quietly, as he lies back down on his stomach, eyes focusing on your glistening cunt, again. "Wanted me to make you cry from the intensity of it all? Said you could handle being overstimulated, didn't you, ma?" His thumb drags up your slit, slow enough to have your inner thighs trembling as he makes his way up towards your overly sensitive clit. "Stay there," he commands, when you squirm the slightest bit away from him. He goes again, this time, dragging the pads of his index and middle fingers through your slicked folds.

"T-Toji," you whimper, your abdomen clenching and quivering with every one of his touches. "Toji, I--" you gasp, feeling the warmth of his tongue dragging through your folds and when you feel his fingers grazing your entrance, you can't help but whimper in anticipation for what's to come.

"Why are you shaking?" Toji asks, looking up at you, condescendingly. You can't scramble quickly enough to respond, before he's feeding his fingers into your drooling cunt. "Wanna cum?" He asks, taking in the sight of your returning tears with a menacing smirk. You don't know what to say, because on one hand, you get another orgasm, but on the other hand, you know you are going to be pushed past pleasure. "Yeahhh, you do. Look at that pretty face. Gonna make you cum so hard," he purrs, curling his fingers inside of you.

You don't know if you'll make it out of this one. You feel like you're being launched into heaven every time he makes you cum with his fingers and his mouth, but it's an immediate, full speed plummet to hell when he keeps going—keeps rubbing your clit while you spasm and practically choke on your breaths.

"Right there?" Toji asks, noticing a shift in the sounds of your moans. They're higher in pitch, quicker, and constantly interrupted by your sharp gasps. "Oh fuck," he growls. "That's it, huh?"

"I-I'm--" you whimper, "--fuck, fuck." Your chest heaves, your back slightly arching off the bed. "Toji," you call, frenzied by the overwhelming sensations. "I'm gonna die..." you blurt. "G-Gonna die," you cry out, tears spilling down the corners of your eyes and treading down your cheeks.

Toji watches, amusedly, as you struggle to figure out what to do while he keeps building you up. The mobility of your hands is limited due to your wrists being bound together, but your palms are dented by your nails to all hell. You barely have control of your legs, because even though they aren't restrained, Toji handles them however he needs to in order to give you what you asked for without you trying to stop him.

"You're fine. You can take it," he says, over the lewd, squelching sound of his fingers pumping in and out of you. "Last one, and you're giving me ten seconds."

"N-No!"

"Yes," he insists. "It's the last one, gotta make it a-"

It's unexpected, the wet mess you make all over Toji's hand, your thighs, and the sheets. You feel like your whole body is buzzing and your toes are curled so tightly that your feet are starting to hurt from the strain.

The countdown starts the second you start squirming and pressing your hips into the mattress. Toji's arms are hooked around your thighs, holding them open and still so he can use his mouth on you for all ten of those seconds and make a mess out of your overstimulated cunt. His lips are latched around your clit, one of his fingers pumping in and out of you, while you shake and pathetically sob from the borderline painful amount of stimulation. The skin of your palms must be broken by now from how hard you've been digging into them.

"Toj--" you barely manage, before your chest is heaving and racking out another sob.

The ten seconds are up, and Toji immediately eases off of you, releasing your visibly trembling legs so that you can move as you please. He crawls up the bed and sits beside you, quickly undoing the binding of your wrists and tossing the strip away.

"I know... I know, doll," Toji coos, wiping at your tear streaked cheeks. He doesn't instantly scoop you up into his arms, because you not wanting to be touched is definitely a possibility. He just sits there, by your side, and attempts to verbally soothe you while you work to compose yourself. "Just breathe, mama. It's all done. You're gonna be okay."

Once your breathing is more calm and you're not so rattled, he works his way up to touching you, starting with your shaky hands and the crescent shapes that litter your palms. He carefully runs his thumbs over the little marks, monitoring your reaction to make sure he isn't hurting you. He brings your hands up to his lips and kisses your knuckles, moving along each of your fingers and ending where his focus is needed most—your palms.

"You good, ma?" Toji asks, lying down on his side, facing you. He's still not pulling you into his arms, but one of his legs is pressed against yours, just to have some sort of physical contact with you.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you say, offering a soft smile. "It was just..." you hum, thinking.

"Intense?" Toji cuts in, to which you nod. "But I didn't hurt you too bad? You're alright?"

"Yes, baby," you assure. "I would've used my safe word if it was too much for me to handle. We touched on that before we started this, remember?" Your hand goes to cup his cheek, but he intercepts it by grabbing your wrist and bringing your hand up to his lips, again.

"Don't be scared to use that word, ma. Don't ever push your boundaries for me, alright? I don't give a fuck if i'm about to bust. If you're not feeling it, we're gonna stop, okay? The last thing I wanna do is to traumatize you."

"Jesus fuck, you're so sexy," you murmur, curling up into him. Your hand splays over his abdomen and rubs slowly, a simple gesture that makes his cock start throbbing and twitching in his sweats, the longer you do it. "Yes, Toji. I won't ever hesitate," you assure, your words promised, physically, through a kiss. The feeling of your lips against his, only further fuels his arousal. You can feel the way he impatiently kisses you back, like he's trying to inhale you. The way he grips your hip and pulls you so that your body is pressed against him, further communicates his need for more of you.

"I'll be so gentle with you, doll," he mumbles, into your neck, pressing kisses to it, afterwards. "Please? Let me treat you right, this time."

You giggle as he continues murmuring quiet little pleas into your neck, through kisses.

"I wanted you to do it, baby, but alright, treat me your way. The right way."

[eggfriedricedwasian]

Tim Drake probably got into fights at school, but he didn't start the fights, he'd finish them. He'd also get away scott free.

People think that they can ruin the Drake's name with their kid getting into fights and causing problems, but no. They encourage him to do these.

Janet had a firm stance in her belief to have the upper hand, so he'd never get in trouble, because she'd blackmail and/or grill into the principal so hard they had to let him go and give the other kid(s) punishment.

Jack had one solid rule, don't start a fight, finish it, and always win. He enforced it by having occasional spars with Tim whenever he could and signed Tim up for all kinds of martial arts to make sure he knew how to fight.

Janet signed him up for whatever else extracurriculars he wanted(ballet, gymnastics, theater, art, vocal coaching, instruments, figure skating, track, etc.).

So just imagine, Tim Drake, publicly known to get into and win so many fights but with no prior context is seen as a trouble maker till they see how well behaved he is. They talk badly about him though, how much of a bad kid little Tim Drake who physically looks like his father but has the face and acts exactly like Janet when he speaks and leads.

And then his parents die and he doesn't cry. They think he's an even horrible kid for not caring about his parents' death even though he's torn.

And then he becomes a Wayne and his reputation, which only Alfred and Bruce know, brings the Wayne name down.

And then he becomes CEO of Wayne Enterprises and everyone expects him to be just like Bruce. What they don't expect is Janet Drake 2.0 when it comes to getting his way and the way he acts or Jack Drake 2.0 with his outstanding leadership and ideas and proposals and what not.

When the rest of the Waynes find out about his reputation, they don't believe it till they see it for themselves.

It's probably at a gala or some sorts. A socialite is being inherently racist towards Damian and talking about how bad of a kid he is. Tim is not standing for it.

"Oh I'm sorry!" he says just a but too loudly to get the attention if everyone in the place, "Would you care to finish that vile comment about my brother? That he was a what now."

"I do, in fact. Perhaps after everyone hears this you Waynes will do better to control that little devil and his unnatural brow-"

The socialite doesn't even get to finish his sentence when Tim karate chops their neck, making them choke(literally) in their own words.

"Oh what was that? Did someone who is actively cheating on their own wife with the underage heir of another company be racist towards my underage and tri-racial brother? Sorry? Did a pedophile defiling the 15 year old daughter of the Miller's family say my 11 year old brother's skin was the sign of the devil? Hm?"

No one says a word, even as they watch Tim twist his words and spill out every secret and dirty fact about the socialite.

They don't even stop him as they watch him beat the crap out of the person with out even trying when said person tries to throw hands with Timothey Jackson Drake, publicly known for getting into fights and winning as well as being graduated from every martial arts class in Gotham ever.

Police were involved, headlines were made, the Miller heir was no longer seen in public and her younger sibling was pronounced heir, and Tim Drake, not Wayne, got off without a scratch, repercussion, or warning.

Damian has never felt an older siblings' loving protection more than he did when he saw Tim grill that socialite. He s never felt more respect for the guy before. And suddenly Dick was lower on the sibling scale.

He was lower on the sibling scale for everyone. Good by #1 sibling Dick Grayson and hello Tim Drake.

Have a problem? Someone's mean or is picking a fight? Don't worry, Tim Drake's there.

Drake is more noticeable than Wayne when it comes to Tim, and everyone finds it out the hard way.

[russellsppttemplates]

Am I late to send an ask?????

Newlywed Christmasy pierre and yn,pretty please? I miss pierre

Note: you're not too late, don't worry! I'm hoping to write a few more requests over the next couple of days if people send them in! And I'll write the other one you sent in too 👀

"Can you get me that box there, please?", Pierre asked as you set what you thought was the last box of Christmas decorations down.

"What is this?", you asked, handing it to your husband only for him to give it back to you, "I'm confused".

"Please open it", he encouraged.

"Pierre, we spoke about this when he cleaned up the decorations - there are boxes for every type of ornament so everything is organised - why isn't this one sorted through- oh!", you gasped.

Inside the box, there was an ornament which you had never seen before. It was delicately designed with the outline of two figures you recognised as your and Pierre on your first dance at the wedding. The original photo was one of your favourites from the day because the moment was a proper bubble of love. Nothing else mattered, and it seemed like no one else was there, just the two of you.

"This one could not have been organised by your categories, amour", Pierre chuckled, "I just got this done last week and the shipping took a few days", he smiled as he watched you inspect the piece. When he saw the idea, he was quick to find someone who could do the intricate ornament for you.

"This is our first Christmas as a married couple", you smiled, hugging your husband and kissing his lips.

"I know, and I wanted this for us to remember it - they also put the date on the back so we know when it was too", Pierre showed you.

Going up to the tree, you and Pierre hung it in the perfect spot, "here's to a lifetime of Christmas with you", he smiled, kissing the side of your head.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[matrixbearer2024]

I had an ask about this regarding my AU but I don't know what happened to it after I saw it in my inbox cuz it might be tumblr being funny but essentially it was just:

"Does West Coast Tech still exist? Why didn't Ford go to West Coast Tech?"

Short answer is, he simply didn't want to in this AU. West Coast Tech is among the Ivy Leagues in my AU and BMU still exists too, it still has the prominent reputation of being a back-up university.

In this AU ultimately Ford never really developed the mindset that he was "special" and had to make a point of it or prove that he was somebody. Because of their upbringing, there wasn't a "preference" others had towards either twin because Filbrick disliked them equally and their academic and extracurricular skills basically made them break even. There wasn't a stupid twin/smart twin between them and Caryn made damn sure about it.

Possibly the only thing that most people say about the two is that they're "smart but stupid" because of all the trouble they get wrapped up in doing whatever or being too curious for their own good.

The teachers or coaches didn't favor one twin over the other either and they were generally liked by their peers. Ford didn't end up with that sense of arrogance that you can typically see in canon where he believes he is above the rest and he has to be and Stan didn't develop that inferiority complex compared to his sibling.

In this AU, Ford had the option to go to West Coast Tech but even throughout senior high he already knew that a good university could really only get you so far. He was a sharp tool yes, but... he didn't think that edge would really push him far. He had an edge, but it wasn't much.

There's a lot of gifted people nowadays and even good credentials aren't going to guarantee a decent job or a stable career, that's if you can even get a job right away.

The science project and everything was still what gave him the opportunity and Stan even congratulated him for scoring that high but Ford wasn't really pleased? I'm not sure with the word but he wasn't exactly happy with the circumstance. They didn't fight over it considering all throughout highschool they kept talking about potential careers and whatnot.

It didn't help that Filbrick encouraged the idea of West Coast Tech because of how much money Ford could potentially make. Even so, Ford was stupidly skeptical after seeing the pamphlet and researching online. Realistically it seemed too good to be true, and he couldn't even sleep on it from how much he kept thinking.

Stan knew he would likely take longer to figure things out but he'd get there, and he was willing to let Ford just reach for the stars as he always did. They still have that dream of sailing around the world as adults but it's a lot more defined and realistic compared to how they planned it in canon. They're thinking, work hard, get rich, then retire early to sail and travel around the world. If their paths split early, they'll find a way back when they grow up. They always do.

It's something they constantly talk about because they both desperately want to move out after graduation just to get the hell away from Filbrick. It doesn't matter where they end up they just need to get away.

Even so, Ford mulled over the offer and decided to visit the university before making his decision. His gut feeling was both parts right and wrong, sure— what he thought was too good to be true was the actual reality of the school and it's pursuit of academic excellence, but he was right to be skeptical after he noticed the snobbish and arrogant nature most of the students have. It's a common thing for ivy leagues to have that mentality that they're the cream of the crop. The best there is. Not everybody is like this of course, but sometimes the loudest crowd doesn't always have to be the majority.

It does take a lot of work to get to their level and to stay at that level but Ford couldn't see himself in that school. He didn't want to allow himself into that crowd where he knew it would potentially make him worse off as a person. Also, he had the entirety of undergrad to get through, if he so much as wanted to transfer to an Ivy League to get his masters or doctorate he knew he could! So what was the rush?

University was a stepping stone and he had time, he knew he could do a lot but he didn't need to rush. So... Ford turned down the offer.

Sadly, it was pretty much as chaotic(bad) as you'd think.

Of course, that meant looking for another university instead and it was mostly Stan who did the research this time because Ford was too burnt out and sulky after everything. He knew he made the choice that would inherently grant him more happiness, but it doesn't always feel like that right away and it didn't help that the walls were paper thin. It's hard to fall asleep to your parents yelling and throwing things around in a fight because of a decision you made.

Both of them had generally pretty good track records academically and a long list of achievements to follow it so it wasn't hard for them to find universities either. That's how they ended up with Graviton University in Oregon, it's not an Ivy-league but it's not as bad as BMU either. It really is just a stepping stone in the middle, your performance practically shapes the path you walk on.

The Stan twins have a choice in this AU mostly because they could also afford it, take note- the family is financially comfortable in this AU because Filbrick is one hell of an unscrupulous businessman but very successful. They're not rich but they're comfortable, and that's a lot in the state of the economy nowadays.

Ford has choices in this AU and it's also a very big part to play in why he could turn down the offer at the time and not look back at it with regret. Stan also being on even ground beside his brother is why they don't ever fight about such topics either, he's not ever chasing after Ford— he's standing right next to him.

The subtle differences from canon can genuinely just make a world of difference in the bigger picture. But yeah, it's why I had them go to Graviton University instead. It's a middle-ground and it's also how I can essentially get them to stay in gravity falls instead of ending up elsewhere when I cranked the "weirdness" level pretty low. There's still bits and bobs of it around, but not to the degree of the canon show I would think.

I hope this generally clears up how I wrote or my thought process as to why I didn't have Ford reach for the stars despite having that option and why the Stan Twins are generally this tight knit in my AU.

[ddarker-dreams]

omg i love your yandere giorno series!! I was wondering if you could write a little thing where giorno witnesses his darling having a lowkey mental breakdown/epiphany because she realizes she’s in love with him? sorta like expanding on the little moments in the other fics where reader questions her feelings for him. and she just confesses to him that it’s so hard to accept what he’s done but she can’t help but love him

i'd recently been wanting to expand on the scarlet ribbons yandere bad endings and this meshes well with a christmas-y idea i had 👁👁

This time of year packs your schedule to the brim.

Being the wife of Don Giovanna comes with its unique obligations, which you once stumbled through with the naïveté of a newborn doe. Time and difficult lessons sanded away your inexperience. These trials weren't unlike those he'd undergone since ousting Diavolo, reality proving itself a stubborn foe against youthful idealism.

After what felt like ages apart, he reunites with you in the evening, where he notes some unusual behavior.

For starters, you're eerily silent. While he's no stranger to you giving him the cold shoulder, it's never without reason, like when he restricts your travel for citing security concerns. He can't recall doing anything to earn your ire. If anything, you'd been uncharacteristically amicable recently, regarding him as a collaborator rather than your warden.

Natale was almost like an armistice. You get to engage in charitable pursuits, while he oversees their seedy underbelly. Ultimately, everything is about business, image, and prestige. He doesn't insult your intelligence by pretending otherwise.

It's when you (and your conspicuous Stand) sneak a glance his way for the third time that he speaks up.

"Is something troubling you?"

He could whittle away at your defenses over an extensive campaign, but, feeling the day's exhaustion weigh him down, he opts for a direct approach. You consider him, your Stand peering over your shoulder with suspicious eyes.

"... Your meeting went long," you comment.

He nods, sensing that you're getting at something. When you refuse to elaborate, he offers to show his hand.

"There were some mild disagreements," Giorno replies. "They've been put to rest."

"If what I suggested is causing tension—"

You cut yourself off when he sits beside you on the loveseat, leaving little room between your persons. It's an unusual line for him to cross. He rarely infringes upon your physical space, owing to a courteous code of conduct that you struggled to comprehend. He thinks you want him to be terrible; a cartoonish villain that you could pour all your energy into resisting.

"I'll see it through," he reassures, the tenderness in his voice reserved solely for your ears. "I think the scholarship program is an admirable idea. The funds are there, it's simply a matter of ironing out the details."

You shuffle around. "It's not a lucrative venture."

"That's inconsequential."

"I'm sure your Capos feel otherwise."

"They can be shortsighted," Giorno argues. "And they don't have the final say — I do."

"That's..." you trail off, gnawing your bottom lip, "Why are you so...?"

Giorno, realizing that he's approaching the heart of the issue, can't let this chance go. He sees you contemplating retreat, as you cross your arms over your chest and squeeze your lips shut. If he were a fully benevolent man, he'd grant you your reprieve. Maybe he'll come to regret pushing you too far. Nonetheless, you are his vice, and even he can't always suppress his selfish yearning.

"So...?" he encourages, nearly crooning the word.

You shake your head. "I never know how to feel about you. Hating you used to come easy, now it's just... pointless. Impossible. I don't know. Sometimes, I think I might even lo—"

Aghast, you slap your hand over your mouth, cutting yourself off.

For his part, Giorno wasn't expecting such a vulnerable admission to nearly slip out. Not wanting to push his luck, he leans back, allowing you some space. You appear to be in deep thought. Your Stand has since dissipated, leaving you truly alone.

It's then that he recalls one of the final requests Bucciarati made of him:

"Please ensure her safety and happiness in my stead."

In the years that have followed, the latter has proven trickier than the former.

His hand finds yours. You jump, snapping your head in his direction, shock rippling across your countenance. He responds by giving your hand a firm squeeze. You don't reciprocate, nor do you pull away. Instead, you stare at where your bodies are joined, almost in a trance.

Giorno feels the cool band of your wedding ring flush against his skin. You made efforts in the past to be rid of it, though his Stand's ability ensured it'd always find its way back to you. He wonders at what point you decided to abandon that little rebellion.

Perhaps the revelations surfacing tonight have something to do with it.

Eventually, you exhale a shaky breath. "All this planning has me worn out. I'm not thinking straight. So please... forget I said anything."

And because he cares for you above all else, he nods, prolonging the farce you've both been cast the leads in.

[nemesyaaa]

kxksiwskkkiwss'zkwkzkskskskidizz oh my fucking god ??? angelita ??? are you fucking serious ?? like do you want me to shot myself right now ?? this was so fucking delicious, brilliant, perfect and hot like wtf. i died a a lot while readin this. i love the fact they're all sharing different kinks. and lmfaooo it's freaky kinky times. this was so good to read, so fucking yummy. i dont have words because you took them away with your creative mind but also all the smut you write for it. foaming at the mouth currently because i'm nothing but a dog right now 😙 you just give me what i needed

IM JUST SHARING SOME BC....NEED TO REACT A LITTLE

🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝

cnc: these two have a meeting and go over all of their fantasies. while bambi’s suggestions are more tame, rafe is going all out, suggesting that he kidnaps her, holds her at gun/knife point, along with making another safe word just for the sole purpose of dismissing it. he’s covering bambi’s mouth while she’s screaming for him to get off of her, fucking her with so much force that her body scoots up on whatever surface rafe has her on. she’s pushing away, or trying to at least, and rafe is just so much stronger than her that he doesn’t budge. “look at you, so pathetic and weak..” rafe would laugh at her, making her cry as she helplessly took his cock. — CNC ??? ARE YOU KIDDING ME ???🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️‼️

rope play: no one can convince me that rafe wasn’t a boy scout when he was little. he’s very knowledgeable of different knots and ties and made it a point to start experimenting with you, tying you up in grotesque positions purely for his enjoyment. even tying your arms behind your back in intricate weaves was enough to get him going. he’d take full advantage of you in your restraints, fucking you past overstimulation, the mixture of pleasure and pain making you cry out in both agony and bliss. your fingers would gradually grow numb, along with the rest of your body until rafe untied you, indents from the rope adorning your flesh. — ELABORE ON SCOUT BOY RAFE ??? BUT I TOTALLT AGREE. YOU'RE FUCKING RIGHT AND I NEED MORE ON THE ROPE PLAY + BONDAGE

asphyxiation: this was first done on accident when rafe was fucking your throat and smothering your face at the same time. seeing the way you gasped for air after he pulled you off of his cock was nothing short of gratifying. but seeing the way you were eager to do it again was even better. from that point forward he would do anything and everything to cut off your intake of air. covering your nose when you sucked him off, choking you during sex until you were on the verge of blacking out, pinning you down by your neck so your windpipe was being crushed. of course he educated both you and himself, and took your little taps of surrender very seriously. — SOMEONE TAKE ME BACK TO LIFE 😙😙😙

predator/prey: the thrill of the hunt and the chase was like no other. whether rafe was chasing bambi in tanneyhill or outside at night time, the promise of getting to do whatever he wanted to her if he captured her was all the encouragement he needed. she’d be hiding, goosebumps spreading across her skin once she couldn’t see rafe anymore. little did she know, he was already creeping up from behind her, a rough hand clamping over her mouth before she could scream. rafe is grunting threats in her ear while she thrashes against him, telling her that she’s powerless and fighting against him is useless. of course, once he has her held down, she’s completely at his mercy. — I WAS SO SURE ABOUT THAT

language: hearing you speak in your mother tongue is going to do it for rafe every single time. whether you’re cursing at him or grabbing him through his pants, whispering; “lo quiero, papi— i want it, daddy..” his cock springs up at the sound of your voice. you’ve taught him enough spanish for him to reply to certain things, your favorite phrase of his being, “mírame, muñeca— look at me, doll.” when you’re shying away from the intensity of his gaze. rafe loved hearing all the words falling from your lips, especially when a particular thrust of his hips made your voice crack at the end of your sentences. “keep talking to me, hermosa— beautiful, i need to hear you.” — FUCKING PERFECT 🥹🥹🥹💖

dacryphilia: rafe does things to purposely make sheep cry. pinching her clit, fucking her so hard that his tip is nudging her cervix with every thrust, grabbing her cheeks and squeezing them together with a bruising grip, he loves seeing those sparkly eyes watering with tears. if he has you on your knees, he won’t stop fucking your throat until you have tears running down your neck and chest. rafe thinks sheep looks prettiest when she’s an utter mess, tear-stained cheeks and swollen lips are his favorite look on her. even when she’s crying and upset about something, he can’t help but guide her hand to his aching length, promising her that she’ll feel better once she makes him cum. — MY FAVS. 10/10. ‼️👄

impact play: if you and rafe weren’t hitting and shoving each other into his room when you wanted to jump each other’s bones then you weren’t doing it right. slamming you against the wall while he was inside of you, slapping him across the face when he did something a little too hard, it was all apart of your little dance together and you two fucking lived for it. rafe loved that he didn’t have to be so soft and gentle with you, and even more so when he found someone who finally didn’t treat him like he was made of glass and used the same force against him. the roughness and complete disregard for one another’s feelings in those very moments was addicting to say the least. — I'M NOT OKAY, I'M NOT OKAY

choking: while rafe loves to choke you in order for you to keep your sassy remarks to yourself, he nearly loses it when you take charge and wrap your hand around the column of his throat instead. he loves the push and pull of your shared dynamic. when he has you pinned down by your neck, it’s useless to deem it a punishment since you always end up liking the pain more than the pleasure. rafe can’t help but curse to himself at the sight of the smirk adorning your lips when he’s cutting off your airway. “no way you’re loving this shit right now..” both of your voices are hoarse once you’re done with each other, the sound making you two look at each other smugly. — XKKDKZ READER CHOKING RAFE ?????????? 🤤🤤🤤🤤✨

face fucking: once rafe got started on this, it was never-ending. he’d have you on your knees wherever you two were at, forcing you to keep your hands behind your back as he used your throat like a cock sleeve. he’s pulling at the roots of your hair with a strangled groan, the sound of his length sliding in and out from between your lips making his eyes roll to the back of his head. it’s messy and sticky, your cheeks full of tears as spit and precum dribble down your chin, your jaw aching for a break. “fuck, just look at you.. ‘bet you don’t have shit to bitch about now, do you?” still managing to roll your eyes at him, rafe chuckles to himself before picking up his pace. — YES. YES YES

lingerie: this was only fitting considering you were a whole designer with your own lingerie brand. rafe hadn’t really developed his kink for fucking you in your lingerie until you started surprising him, the lace and sometimes satin material looking just gorgeous against your skin. besides the obvious fact that you looked stunning in your sets, he thinks the reason why he appreciated it a lot more is because he knows you thought about him when choosing which one to wear. “do you like it?” was possibly the most dumbest question you could’ve ever asked him. of course, you got your answer when he pulled you on top of him, moving your panties over to the side before slamming you down onto his length. — I WAS SO SURE ABOUT THAT TOO 👁️👄👁️

cum play: rafe died and came back to life when he watched you smear his cum over your lips the first time you took his length into your mouth. and then he died again on a separate occasion when he came on your tits, your pretty manicured fingers swirling his seed over your sensitive buds. now every time he finished, if it wasn’t inside of you, he watched with a bated breath as you tasted him before pulling him down into a kiss. your tongues clashed, both of you moaning as you made out with his cum in your mouths. you shared spit, making a mess out of each other until you were begging him to cum again. “please, i want more, rafe..” — WKKDKZZ CUMSLUT SQUAD ‼️‼️‼️

size kink: cowboy!rafe is hugeee, and (un)fortunately for you, also hung like a fucking horse. his entire body envelopes yours when he’s on top of you, only half of his cock fitting inside of you before he’s forcing you to take the whole thing. feeling like his length and the sheer girth of him is splitting you open, you’re looking down at where you two are connected, your eyes wide as you see what looks like a belly bulge coming up from under your flesh. “ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” you’re delirious as the big, strong man above you drills into you at an unforgiving speed. his hand is large enough to wrap around the entirety of your neck, your chest caving in once you felt the band in your tummy snap. — where is my big boy 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ I NEED you

FUCKING MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ME <33 ILYSM

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ RAFE + THE !READER’S AND THEIR KINKS

warnings: dark content ahead! please do not read if you don’t feel comfortable with any of the kinks listed!

a/n: some of these might not be considered ‘kinks’ but instead things that both rafe and !reader may particularly enjoy. special thank you to @nemesyaaa for giving me this idea and always listening to my rambles <3333 consider this my christmas gift to you ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

wc: 5.0k

⭑.ᐟ bambi!reader

cnc: these two have a meeting and go over all of their fantasies. while bambi’s suggestions are more tame, rafe is going all out, suggesting that he kidnaps her, holds her at gun/knife point, along with making another safe word just for the sole purpose of dismissing it. he’s covering bambi’s mouth while she’s screaming for him to get off of her, fucking her with so much force that her body scoots up on whatever surface rafe has her on. she’s pushing away, or trying to at least, and rafe is just so much stronger than her that he doesn’t budge. “look at you, so pathetic and weak..” rafe would laugh at her, making her cry as she helplessly took his cock.

rope play: no one can convince me that rafe wasn’t a boy scout when he was little. he’s very knowledgeable of different knots and ties and made it a point to start experimenting with you, tying you up in grotesque positions purely for his enjoyment. even tying your arms behind your back in intricate weaves was enough to get him going. he’d take full advantage of you in your restraints, fucking you past overstimulation, the mixture of pleasure and pain making you cry out in both agony and bliss. your fingers would gradually grow numb, along with the rest of your body until rafe untied you, indents from the rope adorning your flesh.

outdoor sex: an innocent little picnic can quickly turn into rafe pushing your head into the grass while he fists your panties, dragging them down your thighs before bunching your dress up and slamming into you without warning. he can’t quite pin point when this became a ‘thing’ between you two, but fuck he knew you loved it. maybe it was because of the scenery or being far away from anyone being able to see or hear you two, but sex out in the middle of nowhere was thrilling for you both. bambi already spent a lot of her time outside, so whenever rafe would join her and do what he does best; making her cum around his cock, it was like her two favorite worlds collided.

asphyxiation: this was first done on accident when rafe was fucking your throat and smothering your face at the same time. seeing the way you gasped for air after he pulled you off of his cock was nothing short of gratifying. but seeing the way you were eager to do it again was even better. from that point forward he would do anything and everything to cut off your intake of air. covering your nose when you sucked him off, choking you during sex until you were on the verge of blacking out, pinning you down by your neck so your windpipe was being crushed. of course he educated both you and himself, and took your little taps of surrender very seriously.

predator/prey: the thrill of the hunt and the chase was like no other. whether rafe was chasing bambi in tanneyhill or outside at night time, the promise of getting to do whatever he wanted to her if he captured her was all the encouragement he needed. she’d be hiding, goosebumps spreading across her skin once she couldn’t see rafe anymore. little did she know, he was already creeping up from behind her, a rough hand clamping over her mouth before she could scream. rafe is grunting threats in her ear while she thrashes against him, telling her that she’s powerless and fighting against him is useless. of course, once he has her held down, she’s completely at his mercy.

⭑.ᐟ sheep!reader

slapping: whether rafe is slapping the swells of your tits, the fleshy globes of your ass, or your poor overstimulated clit, he loves seeing your body jolt at his touch. he especially likes slapping you in the face when he’s pounding into you, the small flash of hurt passing over your features shooting straight to his cock. he’s smiling while you’re flinching every time he picks his hand up, his large palm meeting your soft skin with a harsh smack! he knows you’re far too timid and shy to tell him to stop, small whimpers leaving your lips at the stinging sensation. once he’s done with you, your skin is raw and sensitive to the touch, rafe always making sure to soothe you and comfort you afterwards.

corruption: you were just a pretty, clueless virgin when he met you, and still pretty and clueless after he broke you in. rafe still see’s you as a saint even when he’s fingering you to tears, your tight walls spasming around his digits. he treats every time like it’s your first time all overs again, the idea of getting you addicted to his cock was enough to make him cum. he loved to see the confused, yet desperate plea in your eyes for him to turn you inside out. the fact that he’s the only one who has ever seen you unravel makes his chest fill with pride. to know that he’s the one who turned you into a cock-hungry slut to begin with does wonders for his ego.

dacryphilia: rafe does things to purposely make sheep cry. pinching her clit, fucking her so hard that his tip is nudging her cervix with every thrust, grabbing her cheeks and squeezing them together with a bruising grip, he loves seeing those sparkly eyes watering with tears. if he has you on your knees, he won’t stop fucking your throat until you have tears running down your neck and chest. rafe thinks sheep looks prettiest when she’s an utter mess, tear-stained cheeks and swollen lips are his favorite look on her. even when she’s crying and upset about something, he can’t help but guide her hand to his aching length, promising her that she’ll feel better once she makes him cum.

orgasm denial: the way that rafe keeps sheep needy and ready to fuck whenever he wants is by denying her orgasms. waiting until her eyes are rolling to the back of her head before pulling away and making her clench around nothing. “nononono, please, rafe! i need it!” she’s clinging onto him, trying to keep him near as much as she could before he’s swatting her hands away. “gotta keep you on your toes, ‘doll.” he’s rough when he holds her down, stroking himself until he’s painting her tummy with his seed. sexually frustrated and sad that he didn’t fill her up instead, she’s bending to his every will later on when he wants to go for round two.

overstimulation: if sheep isn’t getting denied an orgasm, she’s getting a load of them until she’s physically trying to run away from rafe. while he’s doing everything he can to keep her cumming, she’s convulsing, shaking and trembling, writhing in pain as rafe works her poor, sensitive bud. using his fingers, tongue and cock, he tells sheep to keep count and if she messes up then he has to start from zero again. sheep is brainless after the first three, her train of thought being completely gone as rafe fights with her to keep her thighs open. “no more, no more, no more..” she’s repeating it like a mantra, rafe ignoring her pleas for him to stop.

⭑.ᐟ latina!kook!reader

praise: rafe is having a hard time believing that his favorite latina is even letting him touch her, so he’s doing everything he can to remember this moment. he’s telling you how good your perfume smells, marveling at how soft your skin feels under his touch, admiring and staring at your body in awe as if to remember every curve and detail. you’re looking in his eyes while he raves about never seeing someone as beautiful as you. “you’re so fucking gorgeous, holy shit.” rafe is in disbelief when he finally gets you out of your clothes, his eyes instinctively blinking as he didn’t know what to take in first.. your angelic face, show-stopping tits, or glistening pussy.

language: hearing you speak in your mother tongue is going to do it for rafe every single time. whether you’re cursing at him or grabbing him through his pants, whispering; “lo quiero, papi— i want it, daddy..” his cock springs up at the sound of your voice. you’ve taught him enough spanish for him to reply to certain things, your favorite phrase of his being, “mírame, muñeca— look at me, doll.” when you’re shying away from the intensity of his gaze. rafe loved hearing all the words falling from your lips, especially when a particular thrust of his hips made your voice crack at the end of your sentences. “keep talking to me, hermosa— beautiful, i need to hear you.”

mirror sex: you didn’t have not one bad side. in rafe’s eyes you were absolutely flawless. after the first time you two had sex, he knew immediately that he needed to see you at every angle. getting a mirror installed on the ceiling right above his bed was the first step, then it was a mirrored headboard.. and then two full length mirrors that sat in the opposite corners of his room. the man was obsessed with watching you. if he had you in doggy, he could still get a full view of your face twisting in pleasure along with the bounce of your tits. on days where you wanted to ride him, he’d watch in awe as the globes of your ass met his thighs with a ripple effect adorning the fleshy skin.

body worship: similar to praise, rafe is whispering sweet nothings against your skin, his hands working to massage your calves as he presses kisses to your thighs. he’s holding onto you, eyes closed as he takes in your scent. “you’re so perfect.” rafe sounds like a broken record as he kisses your knuckles, and up your arm to the curve of your shoulder until he finally gets to your lips. his hands are roaming your body even as he’s inside of you, his soft touch a stark contrast to his hard thrusts. not a single inch of your body goes untouched by this man. he pays attention to every single thing, from the crown of your head down to the tips of your toes, he makes sure you feel like a goddess at all times.

tit fucking: having both your tits and your face in his line of vision is a surely a sight to behold. he’s delirious as you gaze up at him, the tip of his cock emerging from between your tits before meeting your tongue. despite you moving yourself up and down, rafe is thrusting from beneath you, the slick sound of his precum making both of you moan. “ah, fuck!” his hips are stuttering everytime you manage to wrap your lips around the tip, his cock twitching with need as you stroke him with ease. he loves seeing the way your lashes flutter up at him when he finishes across your chest, watching with lust-filled eyes as you swipe some of his seed with a manicured finger before popping the digit into your mouth with a smile.

⭑.ᐟ bitchy!kook!reader

choking: while rafe loves to choke you in order for you to keep your sassy remarks to yourself, he nearly loses it when you take charge and wrap your hand around the column of his throat instead. he loves the push and pull of your shared dynamic. when he has you pinned down by your neck, it’s useless to deem it a punishment since you always end up liking the pain more than the pleasure. rafe can’t help but curse to himself at the sight of the smirk adorning your lips when he’s cutting off your airway. “no way you’re loving this shit right now..” both of your voices are hoarse once you’re done with each other, the sound making you two look at each other smugly.

hate sex: you two mastered this before everything else. fucking when you were enemies and nothing more was like a fever dream, both of you fighting to use each other for no other reason besides getting off. you’d push rafe down, bouncing on his cock to keep him from having his way with you, only for him to have your face pressed into the pillows moments later. you two didn’t care if the other felt good or not, it was purely just your way of taking out all of the pent up anger and frustration you two had for eachother. you’d curse at him before he crashed his lips into yours, telling you to ‘shut the fuck up for once and just use your mouth for what it’s supposed to be.’ as he forced you down onto your knees.

impact play: if you and rafe weren’t hitting and shoving each other into his room when you wanted to jump each other’s bones then you weren’t doing it right. slamming you against the wall while he was inside of you, slapping him across the face when he did something a little too hard, it was all apart of your little dance together and you two fucking lived for it. rafe loved that he didn’t have to be so soft and gentle with you, and even more so when he found someone who finally didn’t treat him like he was made of glass and used the same force against him. the roughness and complete disregard for one another’s feelings in those very moments was addicting to say the least.

degradation: this was bitchy!kook!reader’s specialty. telling rafe how stupid and pathetic he is for spamming her phone with desperate texts, telling him he’s worthless and that the only thing he’s good for is being her boy toy. she’s bringing up the times when rafe was begging her to let him eat her out, calling him names and laughing in his face when he looks the slightest bit embarrassed. rafe isn’t letting up on you either, he’s cussing in your ear, calling you a bitch and a ‘spoiled fuckin’ brat’ as he folds you in half. both of you revel in the weight of your insults, the words only making both of you needy to prove the other wrong. ‘just shut your fucking mouth already..’

possessiveness: despite ‘hating’ each other, there’s nothing neither of you hated more than seeing each other in close proximity with someone else. rafe hated your friends, all of them always trying to introduce someone to you in hopes that they could get you to leave rafe alone once and for all. of course, later on that night when the party is over and the place is cleared, he’s pounding into you like he has something to prove. “you’re fuckin’ stupid if you thought i was gonna let you leave with that asshole.” he has you in a head lock, his toned stomach smacking the back of your ass as he choked you out with his bicep. “no one else could ever make you feel like this.”

⭑.ᐟ bitchy!pogue!reader

recording: she’s rafe’s personal pornstar without a doubt. bitchy!pogue!reader knows she looks amazing every second of the day, even when her mouth is full of cock, so when she see’s rafe pull out his camera, she’s really giving him a show. “you fuckin’ slut, i could make millions off of you..” rafe would say after she made him cum on her face and tits. rafe loved to keep documentation of bitchy!pogue!reader almost begging to tears for rafe to fuck her already, the footage coming in handy when she decides to wake up with an attitude and tells him that he’s lucky that you even let him fuck, let alone talk to you. he has the camera in your face the same night, grunting out “aww what’s wrong? ‘still think you’re too good for this cock now?”

rough sex: these two turn ‘rough sex’ into an umbrella term with all of the depraved shit that they do. smacking your skin until you’re bruised, scratching rafe until you draw blood, thrusting into you so hard that you let out a shriek with every stroke of his hips, and this isn’t including all of the choking, biting, and hair pulling that both of you do while you’re at it. rafe is ruthless in the bedroom, often leaving you bedridden by the time he’s done plowing into your poor, sensitive cunt. this was what regular sex was like between you two, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. it drove rafe crazy to know that you were so willing and just as sick and twisted as him to take his shit.

humiliation: this was a two way street for both you and rafe. he would say that he could never be seen with a stripper on his arm since he was sure the entire island had already been with you before, and you would say that you wouldn’t want to be seen with a pathetic loser with daddy issues and a drug problem to cope, anyways. both of you knew that the shit talking that you were doing was only foreplay for the activities you were going to do later. sure enough, he’s taking you in the country club bathroom, all of the grand parents there staring at your provocative outfit in disbelief. “please don’t make me moan loud..” you’d whimper, rafe wrapping a fist in your hair. “nah, you’re gonna let this whole club know that you’re nothing but an easy hooker.”

face fucking: once rafe got started on this, it was never-ending. he’d have you on your knees wherever you two were at, forcing you to keep your hands behind your back as he used your throat like a cock sleeve. he’s pulling at the roots of your hair with a strangled groan, the sound of his length sliding in and out from between your lips making his eyes roll to the back of his head. it’s messy and sticky, your cheeks full of tears as spit and precum dribble down your chin, your jaw aching for a break. “fuck, just look at you.. ‘bet you don’t have shit to bitch about now, do you?” still managing to roll your eyes at him, rafe chuckles to himself before picking up his pace.

dumbification: your walls are fluttering around rafe’s cock when he tells you things like; “you’re a dumb, stupid, slut who doesn’t know how to do anything except take dick.” and calling you a brainless bimbo with nothing but tits for brains. you’re nodding along to his words, not caring about how much he’s dumbing you down. in this very moment, with his hips slamming into yours, you were brainless.. not a single thought behind your fucked out gaze. “just prancing around in your heels like a clueless fuckin’ bunny, not knowing shit..” he’s delivering each word with a punctuated thrust, your back arching into his chest when you feel the rough pads of his fingers on your sensitive clit.

⭑.ᐟ kook!sweetheart!reader

sexting: boyyyy you two can sext for hours at a time. once the clock hits ten and your phone dings with a ‘you up, beautiful?’ from none other than rafe himself, you’re faking a yawn and telling your parents you’re gonna cut the movie short tonight because you’re so sleepy. as soon as you’re laid in your bed, your room door locked until further notice, you’re sending rafe all the pretty nudes you took for him since the last time you two sexted. rafe is fisting his cock as your pictures come in one by one, his bottom lip pulled haphazardly between his teeth to keep himself from moaning out loud. in return, rafe is also sending you pictures of himself. shirtless gym pics, his bulges when he wakes up thinking about you, and your personal favorite; his bare cock and the aftermath of stroking himself to your sexy photos.

lingerie: this was only fitting considering you were a whole designer with your own lingerie brand. rafe hadn’t really developed his kink for fucking you in your lingerie until you started surprising him, the lace and sometimes satin material looking just gorgeous against your skin. besides the obvious fact that you looked stunning in your sets, he thinks the reason why he appreciated it a lot more is because he knows you thought about him when choosing which one to wear. “do you like it?” was possibly the most dumbest question you could’ve ever asked him. of course, you got your answer when he pulled you on top of him, moving your panties over to the side before slamming you down onto his length.

cum play: rafe died and came back to life when he watched you smear his cum over your lips the first time you took his length into your mouth. and then he died again on a separate occasion when he came on your tits, your pretty manicured fingers swirling his seed over your sensitive buds. now every time he finished, if it wasn’t inside of you, he watched with a bated breath as you tasted him before pulling him down into a kiss. your tongues clashed, both of you moaning as you made out with his cum in your mouths. you shared spit, making a mess out of each other until you were begging him to cum again. “please, i want more, rafe..”

pussy eating: he needs it. he needs to have kook!sweetheart!reader’s thighs locked down to his shoulders while he works his skillful tongue on her pussy. she’s whimpering above him, wrapping her hands around his large fingers as he gently circles her clit. rafe is easily eating her out for an hour before another hour passes and she’s a mess. having orgasmed at least ten times, rafe is very controlled and knows how to bring her up before pushing her over the edge and letting her fall ever so graciously into another orgasm one after the other. the lower half of his face is soaked, and when he looks up at you from between your thighs, the sight of him is burned into your mind forever.

cockwarming: one of rafe’s favorites. whenever you and rafe are in the bliss of aftercare, he stays nestled inside of you, both of you kissing each other lazily while he rubbed soothing circles into your skin. “think you could keep still?” you teased, rafe laughing softly as you clenched around him, almost as if to provoke him to move. not even ten minutes later, you’re slowly circling your hips, desperate for any kind of friction while rafe holds you in place. “i knew you were gonna put out.” rafe groaned, moving gently as he rolled over on top of you. ignoring him, you dug your heels into his lower back, prompting him to keep going. “yeah, yeah, just fuck me— oh!”

⭑.ᐟ farmer’s!daughter!reader

size kink: cowboy!rafe is hugeee, and (un)fortunately for you, also hung like a fucking horse. his entire body envelopes yours when he’s on top of you, only half of his cock fitting inside of you before he’s forcing you to take the whole thing. feeling like his length and the sheer girth of him is splitting you open, you’re looking down at where you two are connected, your eyes wide as you see what looks like a belly bulge coming up from under your flesh. “ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” you’re delirious as the big, strong man above you drills into you at an unforgiving speed. his hand is large enough to wrap around the entirety of your neck, your chest caving in once you felt the band in your tummy snap.

dirty talk: rafe knew exactly what to say in order to get your cheeks heating. “you don’t think i know wet you are right now? i bet i could slip right in ya’..” you’re gasping at the lewdness of his words, hiding your face from his view as he stroked the exposed flesh of your waist. “ray!” you laughed nervously, both of you hiding in his little house that was in the back of your own. “you know i’m right.. that’s why you’re getting all shy on me right now.” he scoots closer, his lips trailing along your collarbone. “let me take this shirt off, ‘get these tits in my mouth.” being around a horny cowboy wasn’t good for your heart. “oh, my word! your mouth is filthy!”

daddy kink: the basis of you and rafe’s relationship was that you were together secretly, your father forbidding rafe from dating you, let alone looking in your direction. he wasn’t fond of your dad for that very reason. every time he’s asking you who your pussy belongs to, he’s forcing you to refer to him as a different name other than his own. “you, daddy! oh, fuck, i belong to you!” you’re crying out, the name falling from your lips before you could stop it. the fact that he had you, the farmer’s daughter, in his bed, calling him daddy when he knew your actual father hated him, stroked his ego more than your cunt did. “yeah, i’m your daddy? say it again.” you oblige, your eyes screwing shut as the plap of your ass against his thighs echoed in your ears.

mating press: seeing your glossy eyes gaze up at him while he had your knees pressed to your chest was hands down one of his favorite sights. with the back of his hands sitting underneath your hips, your lower half was slightly elevated, your needy cunt guaranteed to take all of his cum. in this position, you swore it felt like he was in your tummy. “nghhh— can’t, rafe!” you shook your head, your eyes brimming with tears as he leaned down, taking your lips in a bruising kiss. “shhh, of course you can, sweetheart, you’re doing so good for me right now.” the wet squelch of your cunt made rafe keen, his lips wet with your spit. “gonna fill you up to the fuckin’ brim..”

breeding kink: you dreamed about having cowboy!rafe’s babies, both of you always talking about having little ones running around the farm. rafe saw it vividly— your pretty round belly, swollen with his seed, a baby on your hip while you greeted him after a full day of work. it’s all he could envision while he’s pumping in and out of you, your sweet moans sounding against his skin. “i’m gonna make you such a pretty mom, baby, you just fuckin’ wait.” he grunted, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he went even deeper inside your cunt. biting back tears, you let out a half-sob as he continuously hit that sensitive spot along your velvety walls. “you’d want that, right?” rafe still asks even though his mind is already made up. “duh!”

⭑.ᐟ pogue!sweetheart!reader

spanking: rafe blamed your mini skirts for his hyper fixation with your ass. he’d be groping you every chance he could get, the spanking factor coming in when you pretended to drop something one day, your boyfriend wasting no time in draping you over his lap and giving you the attention you were so clearly asking for. he spanked you so hard, you couldn’t help but cry out every time his hot palm met your flesh. “you asked me for this, don’t forget that..” he said through gritted teeth, smirking to himself as you continued to let him spank you with an unforgiving force. rafe was always so gentle with you, you loved when he switched things up and disregarded your pain sometimes..

food play: pogue!sweetheart!reader is basically our little strawberry shortcake. always whipping things up in the kitchen with rafe pressed against her ass was bound to lead to some interesting experiments. first it was strawberries, you and rafe sharing one before he dragged the fruit up the curve of your neck, licking the sweet, succulent juice that had dripped down to you chest. the second time around, before you two decided to incorporate it more regularly, you two were having a lazy day, both of you sharing some whipped cream you had made. you had playfully licked some off of rafe’s finger before he got the crazy idea to lick it from other places, too..

cream pie: rafe was obsessed with watching his cum drip out of you. he’d pull out halfway while you were still clenching around him, forcing you to look down so you could see the glorious sight of his twitching cock filling you up before pulling out altogether. you two would wait with bated breath’s, a moan leaving your lips as you felt the warm ropes of cum slowly drip out of your entrance. rafe’s chest would be rising and falling as he used the tip of his cock to smear his seed up and down your folds, even taking the time to circle your sensitive clit. “oh, fuck, this is amazing..” he’d marvel, gathering the sticky succulence before pushing it back into you.

marathon sex: with pogue!sweetheart!reader’s camper being far away from everyone on the island, it was like you and rafe were dead to the world as you moaned and screamed as loud as you wanted. completely losing the concept of time, you and rafe went at it until someone tapped out, neither of you tiring easily when you were too busy getting thrown over the edge time and time again. one night in particular, you and rafe were doing what you usually did before bed, your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrusted into you and you just couldn’t get enough. both of you kept going without any intentions of stopping. it wasn’t until rafe finally called it that you two noticed the blue morning sky peeking through your curtains that you realized you had just fucked for hourssss

soft/vanilla sex: rafe loved taking his time with you, especially because he knew you were sentimental about everything. holding your hands while his head was working between your thighs, looking into your eyes the whole time he was pounding into you, the gentle touches against your skin as he hoisted you up further onto your bed, it was all his way of handling you with care. he’d peck the tip of your nose when you were cumming, his fingers bringing you down from your high as he held you against his chest. whispering praises in your ear, rafe wouldn’t start aftercare until you were gazing up at him lovingly, and that was even sweeter.

[zaineviu]

❛𝘜𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳❜ - L.F (SKZ)

synopsis. My life is unfair. The one and only woman I love left me unprepared. I'm staring down at my own petals falling one by one... And piece by piece. I can't feel any peace in my heart.

pairings. felix x fem!reader.

content. angst, felix angst, breakup, heartbreak, inappropriate language in some sentences, felix doesn't get over his breakup with you, brief mention of Hyunjin and Jisung. Inspired by Felix's song ‘Unfair’ (I LOVE THAT DAMN SONG WITH ALL MY HEART). This shot is based on Lixie's pov!

wc. 3,079

a/n. Something quite sad, I love writing angst, and I hope you enjoy suffering with me.

Don't forget to comment, so I know you like what I write and encourage me to keep writing.

Ever since you came into my life... ... You taught me all about unconditional love.

Since you came into his life, everything changed. Not immediately, of course. At first, it was slow, like the dawn that barely illuminates a dark room. But when it did, you dazzled him.

Remember how you used to talk to him about unconditional love, how you taught him to believe in something he thought only existed in the songs you sang as a duet on the way home. Your words were his anchor, and your smiles… damn, your smiles were all he needed to survive the darkest days.

He couldn't even think straight without being able to think about you for a second, he was too in love to even admit it.

Looking at you from afar, watching your hair slide down your shoulders as you concentrated on what you were doing, his heart beating fast in his anxious chest looking for you to look at him the same way he was looking at you now.

Eyes so big and so bright that…

"You'll eat flies if you keep opening your mouth like that", Hyunjin laughed loudly behind them, shoving Han when he looked at him with a huge grin, Felix just looked at them with a shrug.

"I don't have my mouth open."

"You do, mate, and wide open", Han laughed this time wildly and smashed his palm into Hyunjin's who shoved him again breaking free from his embrace.

Felix just shrugged his shoulders once more.

He just couldn't stop looking at you.

Such a pretty girlfriend, imagining you being your boyfriend made his stomach a home for his rambunctious butterflies.

That afternoon, when she came with a smile, something in her smile made everything feel lighter. The idea of going straight home vanished when she proposed a walk. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and before they knew it, they were walking to the nearest park.

The sun was beginning to descend, tinting the sky with shades of orange and pink. The shadows of the trees danced in the breeze, and the sound of the leaves accompanied our steps. She laced her fingers with his, and her touch was enough to calm the chaos that always seemed to dwell in his mind.

"Lixie", she began, her voice soft and full of peace for the intimate moment, "have you ever thought about what love really means?"

Felix, confused by her question, but also intrigued, looked at her and shook his head. She smiled, that smile that always managed to disarm him completely, the one that he fell for first.

"It's when you love someone without expecting anything in return," she continued, the boy just waited for you to go on, trying to figure you out. You were silent for a few seconds, trying to convey what you wanted to say. "Not because he's perfect, but because you just… love everything he is. His flaws, his fears, his good and bad moments…. It becomes your priority, you look after their wellbeing and care for them, that's love…. When you give something to someone without expecting anything in return."

Her gaze was lost for a moment on the horizon before she turned back to him, her eyes shining, a smile that could only be called his, you were as much in love as he was. "I feel that way about you, Felix."

His chest tightened, unable to process the immensity of her words. He wanted to say something, anything, but he gasped, caught in the sincerity of your confession.

Of your love.

"You don't have to say anything," she added, gently squeezing her hand. "I just want you to know that I'm here, always."

The sun finally set, leaving behind a sky that was beginning to fill with stars.

And in that moment, in that dim light, Felix could only look at you as you slept on his lap, with the lights of the lanterns surrounding them under a tree, you in his arms.

You taught him that love has no limits, that even on days when he couldn't handle the weight of the world, you still found room for him.

‘You promised a always that you knew would be a goodbye disguised as love.’

I think about you saving me every night. Felt like an angel sent from above.

It was normal, this feeling of need, to always have you in his arms, to keep you with him no matter how much you said it was a lot of love at that moment.

Loving you was too easy for him.

Your body close to him, so soft and warm that you seemed like a cozy blanket on top of him, Felix was delighted.

That night, as he lay down in his bed, your image came back to his mind. Thinking of you was inevitable, as if his mind had created a sacred space reserved just for you. Every time his days became heavy, you were there, saving him with a word, a look or a smile. It was as if your mere existence was enough to remove the shadows that sometimes wrapped around him.

Sometimes he felt selfish for loving you so much, but he couldn't help it. He thought about how you came into his life, like an angel sent to remind him that even in his worst moments, he could find something good, something real. The way you saw through him, the way you made him feel enough, gave him enough strength to stay alive.

With his eyes closed, he allowed himself to hold you tightly.

'I fell asleep with your name on my lips, hoping that, at least in my dreams, you could save me again.'

All I see is your shining beauty. Hope you can see the human in me. Will your truе love be the onе to free me?

Felix adjusted the scarf around his neck, the cold biting his cheeks as he walked aimlessly through the city. Neon lights flickered over puddles of water on the pavement, reflecting a world that seemed to move too fast for him to keep up.

Everything seemed to work perfectly for everyone else, like gears clicking into place on a clock.

The world seemed to keep pace.

Except he didn't seem to keep pace.

There was something unsettling about the way your image popped into his mind, without permission, at the most inopportune times. He wasn't even sure when it had started.

Maybe the first time he saw you laughing in that record store, with the sun streaming through the windows and drawing soft shadows on your face.

You had caught his attention like a spark in the dark, but now that spark was almost painful, a constant flame that burned and consumed him.

He felt miserable walking aimlessly while thinking about you.

It was funny how something so fleeting became his current torture, from how you left him stranded in the nothingness while you decided to leave without saying goodbye.

He felt like a fool believing things he knew were going to happen sooner or later.

It wasn't something he wanted to admit, not even to himself. But there was a brutal clarity to the fact that he couldn't get you out of his head.

He had learned to live with it, to keep quiet, because it was easier to hide behind his thoughts than to face the inevitable: that maybe you would never look at him the same way, that your love was fleeting, and that was okay, he didn't hate that fact.

He hated that you had made him fall in love, that you had spoiled him so much with your love, that you had made him addicted to you, that now he looked like a drug addict without his drug.

He came to a corner and stopped, watching the traffic go by. People came and went, each one busy with their own lives, while he felt his own freeze at that exact point. It wouldn't matter if he just crossed and a car ran him over.

At least you'd find out and go see him at his funeral, right?

Seeing you was an idea that tormented him.

It wasn't about the superficial beauty, the kind words or the smiles he offered to others. It was about everything he didn't show: his flaws, his insecurities, the scars he carried like an invisible weight.

You knew him so well that it scared him to the point, you knew the exact number of freckles he had, the amount of moles on his body, how he likes to sleep, even the most obvious flaws like bathing barefoot or sleeping without turning off all the lights.

Did you ever wonder what he was hiding behind those eyes?

He doubted it. Not because he thought you weren't interested, but because he knew you already knew.

Maybe it was easier to keep things that way, with distance as a shield.

But there were nights, like this one, when he allowed himself to dream of a different world. One where you could look at him and understand him. A world where your love, if it ever became real, would be enough to free him from this internal prison he had built himself.

You tore down all the walls he had worked so hard to build, taking him, his thoughts, all of whom there was nothing left.

He wasn't the kind of person who expected rescues. Yet there was something about you, something about the way you brightened even the grayest of days, that made him wonder if you could be the exception.

The rain began to fall softly, and Felix stood still, letting the drops cool his face. He closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the sounds of the city mixed with his own thoughts.

He had no answers that night, but he didn't need them either. He had learned to live with uncertainty, with the longing he didn't dare name.

Because deep down, he knew that your presence, even if only in his mind, was the only thing that made all of this worth it.

Even if you were no longer with him.

My life is so unfair... ... I'm still left in despair.

The sound of your laughter echoed in his head like a persistent echo, one he couldn't silence no matter how hard he tried. Felix couldn't help it: everything around him seemed to revolve around you.

But while you continued on, unconcerned, he remained trapped, a silent observer on the sidelines of your story.

He sat on a bench under the dim light of a street lamp, raindrops slowly soaking his hair.

The words of an unsent message kept floating in his mind. He had written it to you a thousand times, always in different forms, but he never dared to press "send."

He didn't know what scared him more: the possibility that you wouldn't respond or that you would, but only to confirm that you didn't feel the same way.

After so much time together, so much time apart, he didn't even know that you would respond anymore.

It wasn't the kind of thought he liked to indulge in, but that night, sitting in the dark with the cold seeping into his bones, it felt more real than ever.

It was unfair how every little gesture of yours seemed to light a fire in his chest while you, probably, weren't even aware of it. It was unfair how your words, always casual, became little treasures that he jealously guarded, even though you probably didn't even want a single one of them.

But what hurt him the most was the feeling that it could never be enough.

No matter how hard he tried to get closer, there was always something stopping him.

A deep, rooted fear that whispered to him that no matter how much you shined in his life, he would always be relegated to being a shadow.

Loving you hurt.

The confession wasn't something he could say out loud, but he felt it with every fiber of his being. Despair wasn't just sadness; it was a constant weight, a void he couldn't fill, no matter how hard he tried. It was the realization that even if you saw him, you could never see him the way he wanted to.

Your love was never real anyway.

Felix closed his eyes and let out a shaky sigh. He hated himself for feeling this way, for wanting something that seemed so out of reach. But more than anything, he hated himself for not having the courage to change it.

As the rain intensified, he slowly stood up, shoving his hands in his pockets and starting to walk again. There was no place he wanted to go, but standing still felt like giving up, and giving up wasn't an option.

The injustice of his situation was still there, like a thorn in his side, but so was the small spark of hope that he couldn't extinguish, no matter how hard he tried.

Because even though he didn't know if you could ever see him, he held on to the idea that somehow, it was worth it to stay there, waiting.

Always waiting for you.

Just when I thought that god... ... Had answered my whole prayer.

He stood still, staring at the empty space in front of him, as if waiting for something to change.

The room they shared, now silent, seemed so much bigger without you, emptier than he had ever imagined.

The promise of an eternal love was left behind, dissolved in the words no longer spoken, in the gestures no longer exchanged.

He had been so sure that he had finally found what he had always wanted.

As if, somehow, God had heard his prayers, having given him the love he so longed for.

A connection that seemed complete, as if all the pieces fit together perfectly in his life. The feeling that everything he had wanted for years, everything he had lost along the way, was within his reach.

He thought that, at last, he had found peace. That the uncertainty of his existence would vanish when he had someone to share it with. Everything seemed perfect, so natural and so easy. Until it wasn't.

The breakup had come abruptly, almost without warning, and it left a deeper mark on Felix than he had anticipated. In his mind, the image of everything he thought he had gained was crumbling, without explanation, without reason. What seemed to have been a clear and definitive answer to his prayers vanished into thin air, leaving him with a feeling of emptiness, as if the love he had felt had never been real.

"I think it's best that we break up."

He couldn't speak.

"I don't think being together is the best thing right now, Lixie."

He couldn't deny it.

"I stopped loving you."

He didn't react.

He felt like everything he had given, everything he had invested in that relationship, had been lost.

Despair began to take its place, like a shadow that lengthened, occupying every corner of his being.

How could he have been so blind? How could he have believed that, at last, everything would make sense?

Now there was only confusion and pain, a sense of being left behind, as if everything he had dreamed and prayed for so long had slipped away, perhaps forever.

Felix fell back onto the bed, head in his hands, feeling the heaviness of the moment crushing him. The answers he had hoped for, the promises he had believed, were gone, leaving behind only an echo of what could have been.

He had lost everything.

You were his everything.

After I let you go... ... And saw you out the door.

Felix stood, watching you walk towards the door.

Every step you took seemed heavier, and the silence that filled the room only made the weight of the goodbye more real.

His hands were cold, shaking slightly, but he didn't dare move them.

He couldn't.

He didn't know what to do, what to say.

He couldn't find the words.

"Felix…" Your voice, cracked, made his chest tighten, but he didn't say anything.

He looked at you, foolishly hoping you would change your mind. But you didn't.

"Please don't," he murmured, his eyes searching yours, but he only found indifference.

You sighed and, with one last look, walked over to the door. Felix swallowed, his heart pounding in his chest. It was as if time had stopped.

"Is this really what you want?" He asked, his voice shaking, though he tried to sound firm.

You paused for a moment, staring at the ground. “It’s not what I want, Felix,” you said quietly. “But it’s what I have to do. I’m sorry.”

Felix felt the ground crumble beneath his feet. “Do you have to? Do you, really? Leave me like this?” His throat closed up. He tried to speak, but the words caught. “We… we had it, we had it all! Don’t you see? We tried! We made it work! We can make it work!”

You turned to him, your eyes glassy, ​​but there was no trace of doubt in them. “We tried, yes, but… I can’t take it anymore. I can’t keep fooling myself, or you. I love you, Felix, but this… it’s not working.”

The words fell on him like a loss. “No… No, please. It’s not like that.” Felix took a step towards you, reaching out his hand, but you didn't take it. The distance between the two of you seemed to have suddenly widened, as if you were no longer within reach of his love.

"I'm sorry, Felix. You don't understand, but this is what's best for both of us." You opened the door, and for a second, Felix thought you might back out.

But you didn't.

"No! Don't go! You can't do this!" Felix screamed, his words filled with desperation. But your eyes only looked at him one last time, and you turned away.

"I stopped loving you." Was all you said before you completely disappeared from his life.

The sound of the door closing echoed in his ears like a blow, a lash to his soul. He stood there, staring into space, not moving, not knowing what to do. Everything he had dreamed of, everything he had believed in, crumbled in that instant. The empty room reminded him of what he had lost.

There was nothing left.

Felix stood there, alone, with the words he could never say hanging in the air.

The door was already closed, and with it, it seemed like all his chances had vanished.

Somehow, he knew he could never explain to you how deep his love was, or how much you meant to him.

Pain enveloped him, but so did the sadness of knowing that words would never have been enough to save what was already broken.

He loved you, but that, sadly, wasn't enough to keep you by his side.

All that was left now was the echo of what was, a goodbye left unsaid, a love lost without being fully understood.

He couldn't even confess how much he loved you before you left.

I wanted you to know... ... How much I love you so.

[babydollcer]

I always loved games night at your friend's house. Your group of friends had been so kind and welcoming since we got together.

You told me your friends wanted to try a new game this week. I was so excited!

When we arrived, there were already a few empty bottles of wine on the table, letting me know this was going to be a fun night.

I poured us a glass each and sat down, ready to hear the rules of this game. Your friend Tom stood up, ready to assume hosting duties as per usual. Only this time, next to him was some sort of board covered in a black sheet.

"Voila!"

As he ripped off the black sheet, it revealed a whiteboard with everyones names written on one side, and a 'time' section on the opposite side.

As I scanned the board, I realised my name wasn't on there. He must have forgotten about me. I am new to the group after all.

I sunk into my seat, completely ready to disappear before I hear Tom calling me up to stand next to him.

Confused, I looked at you for reassurance. You just gave me a smile and patted my ass in encouragement for me to join him. I blushed and walked over to Tom very confused.

"Ladies and gentlemen, can you please make some noise for our lovely volunteer!"

The room erupted in whistles and laughs as I played along, bowing before the crowd, desperate to know what was going on.

"Tonight's game is one we've had many requests for! As you all know, the fastest wins. I'll start timing as soon as first contact is made. Good luck, and let the game begin!"

Great, that cleared it up. Before I could even ask what the game was, Tom was shoving something into my mouth. I tried to spit it out, but it must have already been secured because it wasn't moving an inch. I tried to reach up and remove it but your blonde friend, who I hadn't even learnt the name of yet, grabbed my arms behind my back and held me firmly in place.

My eyes widened in fear and I looked at you for help. The smirk on your face instantly let me know that you weren't going to be any help at all. I looked around at all your friends, willing anyone to help me, pleading with my eyes. Their excited faces filled me with dread at the prospect of what you were going to do to me.

Jessica was the first to approach me. As she lifted my skirt and exposed my tiny panties to the group, I cried in shock. I tried to kick my legs, to conceal my decency, but they were quickly held down by someone else I couldn't see.

"Ready? Go! "

With the beep of a stopwatch, Jessica dropped my panties and started feverishly sucking my clit. I gasped in surprise and pleasure. I wanted to hold face, be stoic, not let them know how she was affecting me, but her toungue overwhelmed my senses with pleasure. Licking and sucking with expert precision - the pleasure shooting through my whole body.

I shook my head as I felt myself get close. "please plaese please" begging her to stop I think. I can't cum in front of all these people. I'm so embarrassed, my stomach tensing in an effort to hold off my impending orgasm.

She seemed to see this as a challenge. She sucked my clit into her mouth with all her might - and then she bit it slightly, sending shockwaves through my body. I screamed out, desperate to keep what little dignity I could, but to no avail.

I heard another beep, followed by Tom's booming voice, "8 minutes 30! Respectable, but I think we can do better than that! Next up, it's Matthew's turn!"

As it dawned on me what was happening, I shook in fear and post orgasm bliss. How many names were on that list?

Matthew was unbuckling his belt before I even had a second to recover...

[eliotwaughdeservesbetter]

'he told him to go to sleep because that's what buck needed' and maddie et al. are telling buck not to text tommy because it's what's best for him what's your point. if your friend got dumped you wouldn't encourage them to text their ex and tell them 'oh they were just frightened i'm sure they're really the love of your life' at least i hope you wouldn't... buck's always been the one lingering in relationships if someone is gonna reach out it should be tommy considering he did the dumping in the first place.

They don't know what's best for him in that case that's the point. Only Buck knows what's best for him. They don't know their relationship, they weren't there to see all of their relationship. And Buck thinks it's best for him to call/text Tommy. So let him. He wants it, he needs to talk to Tommy, to make up or get a closure doesn't matter. And don't people in real life or movies or tv shows never talk to their exes who broke up with them? That's ridiculous, because they do. When you have feelings for a person you fight for him and tries to get him back even if he broke up with you. And if talking with Tommy will make worse for Buck (which im very sure won't be as the break up wasn't malicious from Tommy's point) then yeah his family should take care of him, they even can say "we told you so". But right now they can't tell him what to do, he's his own man, he has his own mind, feelings and should make mistakes himself because it's his life.

And probably Tommy should be the one to reach out first, i might agree. But we see this break up through Buck and he really wants to reach out. The only thing that stops him is judgement from his fam, on whose opinion he's very dependent.

And i never stop my friend from reaching out to her exes even if i know they were bad to her. You know why? Because i respect her wishes. I respect her enough to know that she knows what's she doing. And later when it ends bad i just tell her that this guy's an asshole and i support her no matter what.

That's what family and friends should do. Not to take your phone away from you and talking about moving on when you clearly can't do it without a closure

[not-poignant]

I’ve been trying to wrap my head around this, but do you think Arden is abusive to Efnisien in FFS? It seems like Efnisien does not like pain yet Arden inflicts pain on him anyway and enjoys it. Can you help me understand?

Hi anon,

Arden is absolutely not abusive to Efnisien. He's probably one of the least abusive characters out there. He is a sadist though.

So, I'm going to be talking about this from the perspective of consent systems, as well as kink, and kinkshaming (which is what you're doing here).

The first thing is no, I can't help you understand if you don't after 770k words of Efnisien clearly consenting to what Arden does to him, feeling free to withdraw consent, being encouraged to withdraw consent, and having Arden constantly check in with him.

The second thing is, it's not your job to understand. That's not what kink is about!! It's your job to accept that someone else wants it and consents to it. This is true in real life as well!

In the world of kink, you are going to come across things that don't make sense to you, where the idea of going through what the other person is going through makes you feel revolted, disgusted, uneasy, or even scared. But you're not the one going through it! You're not the one being asked to consent to it! And therefore, your perspective on it truly does not matter when it's about two other people who have talked about it, negotiated it, consented to it, are consenting to it in an ongoing, informed, engaged manner, and are very clearly happy with what's happening - if not during - then definitely before and after, and aren't asking for anything to change.

These are the basic building blocks of respect in kink society, and it sounds like you don't have them. Which - fair, if you're not in that society, but if you don't want to be someone who kink-shames, it's very important to replace 'I don't understand it therefore it's abusive' (???) with 'I don't need to understand it because they are clearly consenting to it, and where there is consent, communication, and ongoing negotiation, it's none of my business. To assume that what they're doing is wrong or abusive simply because I don't like it is now under the umbrella of kink-shaming, which means I'm the problem here.'

There are many many things in kink that you won't ever understand. I really don't think I can persuade you in one anon response and I don't want to when I wrote nearly a million words about it, y'know?

But I do advise you to make sure that you know that just because you don't like something, doesn't mean this has any impact on what's happening in another person's relationship when there's ongoing, engaged consent. You don't need to understand it, and it's not anyone else's job to make you understand. There's some stuff in kink that I will never want to be around, and I genuinely struggle to see what people get out of it, but - good news - it's not my job to understand! I don't ever have to go through it, and those folks are consenting and living their best lives.

If they're ever not, that won't be about the kink, it will be about ignoring withdrawn consent, or removing someone's consent, or violating their consent.

But other people's kinks aren't about you, they aren't for you, and they don't require your understanding of them, they don't need you to wrap your head around it, in order to not be abusive.

If you can't understand the foundations of consent, negotiation and the overall health and happiness of people in a relationship, I've got nothing anon.

[eenslaved]

Ray and Joshua's Girl

BDSM erotica. Fictional characters over 18. Strictly fictional fantasy.

When she hears footsteps on the stairs, she tenses, uncertain of who is approaching. The son, back for more, or the father this time?

They both take turns using her, in this unassuming house set far back at the end of a long driveway, distanced from any neighbors.

The lights are flipped on and she sees Joshua's face beaming at her.

"Well, hello there," Joshua coos at her. "Looks like Da's already been at you today."

She blushes. Her feet are tied above her head, her thighs splayed wide apart. Her pussy and ass are tilted up at him, and Joshua can see for himself the sticky leavings of his dad's cum coating her sex.

Joshua comes to stand over her. His eyes are greedy and avid as they roam her naked, bound body. She sucks in a breath as his hands mold over her breasts, freely feeling her up because she can't stop him.

She has to try again. "Please let me go, Joshua. It's...you've had your fun, OK? I-I won't tell anyone, I swear."

Joshua shakes his head at her. "You are home," he insists. "This is your home now. Da and I talked it over; we're keeping you. You're our girl now. You belong to us and we'll take such good care of you."

Her heart sank. "No, please. You-you can't do this. This is so...you could get in so much trouble when someone finds out..."

"No one's going to find out," Joshua soothed. "You're safe here. You need us. That motel wasn't a safe place and you won't last the winter living on the streets. Here, you've got a bed, food, water, a roof over your head. All we want is your obedience." 

Her eyes well with tears as he hurts her nipples, pinching them cruelly. 

Joshua unties her wrists first, putting the manacles on her, and then releases her legs. He leads her into the bathroom where her arms are pulled up over her head.

He takes his time washing her body, soaping up every part of her, slapping at her thighs to get her to widen her stance. He strokes her until she's slippery and gasping, legs trembling, and then hoses her off. The jet of water aimed at her clit makes her dance in a performance he clearly enjoys.

After she's clean and dry, Joshua dresses her in a pink babydoll nightgown. She's so grateful to be clean and released from her uncomfortable bondage that when he pushes his sweats down and he slaps her face lightly with his cock, she just kneels there with her mouth open.

Joshua's father, Ray, arrives just as she's swallowing thick jets of cum.

"Good, you washed her," Ray says, pleased. He takes a seat in the broken-in leather armchair and watches as she cleans Joshua's cock with her tongue. "Come here, girl. Sit on your Daddy's lap now."

Her face burns and her insides churn with humiliation as she does as he asks, perching gingerly on his hard thigh. Ray settles her more firmly into the position he prefers, which is where her feet don't touch the ground and she has to cling to him for balance. 

Ray's hands immediately disappear under the short hem of the babydoll gown, blunt fingers seeking out her wet heat. He isn't disappointed by what he finds there. She squirms as his fingers tease more wetness out of her.

"Put your arms around me," Ray encourages. 

He turns his face into her cleavage, nuzzling her boobs. She gulps and tries not to come. All she can do is obey. She doesn't dare do different. Ray doesn't hesitate to punish her for any signs of disobedience or the merest hint of rebellion. He is consistent about his methods of discipline: first corporal punishment, then a stint of solitary in the hated deprivation hood.

His methods are effective.

As much as she's been able to pick up, Ray is divorced and has been for years. Joshua isn't in contact with his mom at all. It's just the two of them living here, operating the family-owned garage. The two men are self-sufficient. They haven't expected her to cook or clean or anything like that. That's not what they need her for.

"I'm plannin' on having anal sex with her later," Joshua says. 

"Rub some icy hot on her clit before you do that," Ray says, enjoying the shudder that runs through her frame. "Makes it even better."

"Is that why she was carrying on so much last night?"

"Yep. It's good to let her work her lungs out. And now she knows there ain't anyone around to hear her and come banging on our door. Isn't that right, sweetie?"

"Yes, Daddy," she whispers. Her tears are hot. Her pussy is pulsing and clenching on his fingers, an appalling response. This is so awful and there's no escape that she can see.

[rileydylanjamesworld]

By Riley Dylan-James

The first artwork is by @ rosiipilli on twitter, I tried to find the second but I couldn't.

(1195 words)

Anderperry is real and this is an essay on why I think that :D

During the locker room scene Todd is seen to be sat near the window hunched over, seemingly looking at the floor in thought. This is until Neil comes over and clicks him out of his trance, Neil then asks if Todd is going to the study group, which Todd stumbles over some words, which sometimes happens if you like someone, but as he finds his words he looks at Neil's d 3 times, pointing out that Neil has a towel covering him. When todd gives his answer Neil turns towards the group ad Todd looks at his bum (it wasn't casual).

The next time anderperry is shown is when Neil and Todd were talking and Neil wanted Todd to join in, Todd stated that Keating said that everyone took turns reading, Neil then stated that he could still be there if he didn't want to read "what if you just came and listened" Todd then said "thats not how it works" which Neil replied with, happily and encouragingly "forget how it works" this shows that he doesn't care to follow the rules if it makes Todd uncomfortable.

Another important thing to note in this scene is that Neil asked "what if they said it was ok", Todd's response was "what, are you gonna go up and ask them" to which Neil made a suggestive face and jumped up to ask the boys to make the exception. We can see this later on when the poets get to the cave and Neil states that Todd will keep the minutes.

Another time this is obvious to me is when Neil tells Todd about Midsummer, Todd asks what it is to which Neil replies "it's a play dummy", here Neil is very happy and excited about doing the play, at first Todd didn't understand Neil happiness but his face lit up when Neil said "I'm gonna act". Shortly after Todd says "hold on a minute" and starts asking questions such as "how can you be in a play if your father won't let you" and "won't he kill you if he finds out you went to an audition and didn't even tell him", Todd keeps saying logical things and then Neil suddenly snaps thinking that Todd is on his father's side, and the regret as soon as he snaps is as clear as day, he fully regretted snapping at Todd. Todd then says "you say things and people listen (refering to Neil) I'm not like you" to which Neil replies "don't you think you could be" (again, suppoting boyfriend). In this scene Todd also says that he can take care of himself to have Neil reply with the word no, Todd asks "what do you mean no" and Neil repeats himself saying no again but with a smirk (ROBERT SEAN LEONARD THE MAN YOU ARE).

Shortly after Niel is being chased by Todd around their room and Niel says "I'm being chased by Walt Whitman" who was a known queer poet.

After Neil getting the part he funds Todd and they look a bit close in the doorway, Todd looks like ge was gonna lean in for a little kiss, Todd being the supportive friend he is sits on the bed and helps Neil with writing the letter that should be from his dad, as Todd says "you're not gonna write it" Neil makes a weird squawk which Todd laughs off looking at Neil, (flirting).

After we see bagpipes being played near the river which I'm assuming is the place of the deleted scene. In this scene Todd and Neil are practicing Neil's lines where Neil is very energetic which shows his love for acting, which he has been doing his whole life to be the best boy for his dad, and Neil says "god I love it!" To which Todd replies with "what? Me?" (YES YOU! GET MARRIED!) Here it shows that Todd has some feelings for Neil. Also when Neil says "put more into it" it shows how supportive, encouraging, Neil is towards Todd, green flag all round. (Just this whole scene shows they're gay, you can't miss it). Todd and the madman poem is another good example of anderperry because Todd didn't write a poem, Keating helps him write one about Walt Whitman (a known queer poet) being a sweaty toothed madman and when the poem ends the scene lands on Neil who is gobsmacked and staring at Todd, you can't tell me he's heterosexual.

In the scene after while the boys are playing American football you can see a boy jump into another boys arms... that's Todd jumping into Neil's arms.

When Knox calls Chris after hanging up the first time Todd turns to Neil smiling, Neil smiles back very happily and Meeks sees them being gay and supports it.

This is mainly from the book but in a few scens after it is Todd's birthday and Neil spots him sat on the roof, Neil says happy birthday enthusiastically and even though Todd got the same desk set he already has Neil tries to make him happier by saying maybe his parents thought he needed a new one, point is that Neil in this scene is trying EVERYTHING in his power to make Todd happy.

While Charlie is coming back from Nolan office Todd and Neil were talking to each other, probably nothing but just a note.

When Neil is in Keatings office talking about how his father wouldn't let him do the play this can also be a metaphor for gay love because when dead poets was set gay love was frowned upon, and when he says he's trapped this could also be because he loves Todd too.

When Neil is going to the car Todd is following along trying to get Neil's attention and as his dad drives him away the camera pans to keating with Todd in the background staring after the car.

Just after when Neil is at home and the boys are in the cave Todd reads the poem that he was writing earlier on in the film, Neil might have given Todd the confidence from the play.

When Todd finds out that Neil is dead he goes outside and Todd was gagging and just after he runs to the pier where him and Neil were rehearsing lines before in the movie for his play, his final yawp was for Neil.

In a few scenes after when Cameron said that that Neil would be cozied up in his room rn dreaming of being called doctor, Todd butted in nearly shouting "that is not true Cameron" and "Neil loved acting"

To also note a lot of the time when death was mentioned the camera would usually pan to Neil which could suggest that he was suicidal from the very start of the movie.

People say midsummer has queer potential- Anderperry.

Midsummer explores the theme of dreams and implies that the play itself is a dream- Neil's dream to be an actor.

Also they're both in Tape 2001 so don't try and tell me they're not soulmates.

Thank you for reading!

[kittenscookie]

I apologize because I'm about to ruin the fun vibes of this au—the reason Luke is high 50% of the time in this? It's because he's scared.

He's scared because he's seen the way Clarisse looks when she sees M.E Athena and Annabeth spar—how she bites her lip to keep it from trembling. Has watched how the younger campers cling to M.E Hermes whenever he visits, notice how their shoulders sag a little bit whenever he gets back from an outing with his dad. Seen his father do his best to smile and reassure the unclaimed that their parents will come for them as he passes out treats and goodies to ALL the kids in the cabin—he's not so cruel as to exclude them—even though they both know that for a lot of these children that's just not happening. He's comforted sobbing kids as they wonder why everyone else's parents want them but not theirs.

And if Thalia survives this au and doesn't get treeified? He knows she notices these things too—he’s seen that cold calculated look in her eyes, he's seen the rage. But he hasn't said anything even though he knows he should, even though he'll probably regret it. Because that same rage flows through him too, because he's just as pissed about this situation as she is. And that's what scares him. He knows himself very well, he knows he would have been planning to burn this bitch to the ground if he didn't have his father's support.

Even now it would be so damn easy for him to do it—pour the gasoline, strike the match, and watch it all burn. And he's so afraid of giving in to temptation. So instead Luke thinks about the way Athena ruffles Annabeth’s hair after every spar, about his father's encouragements and laughter as he taught him how to fly with his shoes, about the fact that if anything happened to Percy Poseidon would flood the earth and turn it to rubble. He holds on to the evidence that the gods can do better and clings to the hope that one day they will.

And then he lights up a blunt.

Tldr: Luke is still very much aware of how fucked this situation is and knows that if he didn't have his father to support him and validate his feelings he'd have done some very bad things (*Cough**Cough* The first books *Cough*) and he uses weed to cope. If he survives the first series he will go down to being high only 25% of the time.

[starlighthome74]

Nightmare Time: Possession

[TW: Sort of blanket warning for themes of abuse, neglect, endangerment. Proceed with caution!]

Kik wakes in a sunlit room, alone. It's sometime in the middle of the day, and they aren't sure, for a moment, where they are. The memory is very familiar, but they didn't usually dream of memories. They sit up, and take in the pristine, clean bedroom around them, frowning as dread settles in their stomach like a giant pit. 

You would expect the bedroom of a fourteen-year-old to be messy, chaotic, and filled with a mixture of toys and clothes and hobbies as they rapidly switch between things they like, growing out of interests like skinny jeans during a growth spurt. However... Kik's room in eighth grade was hardly ever messy at all. They didn't really have many things, really, aside from a few pictures of their mother and father, a beloved stuffed dog, and a fairly-decent wardrobe of baggy clothes. A couple games lived on bookshelves, a few toys were tucked in the closet, but Kik would rather be caught dead than playing. Edwin was raising an adult, and they were expected to behave as one.

They get up quickly, smoothing down their clothes and fixing their messy hair. If he found out they were sleeping--

"Katherine."

Shit shit shit shit shit--

"uh-- y-yeah?" Their voice is high, and it cracks slightly.

"I didn't send you in here to think for you to fall asleep. Do you think this is a game?" Edwin is leaning on the door frame, his eyes a little darker than usual. 

It's been a hard day, especially because Kik had been so incredibly clumsy and out of it. They'd broken three glasses while on kitchen duty today, their hands shaking so much that they could barely keep their grip on the glass. Something had happened that had made Edwin angry. More angry than they had ever seen, and it was terrifying. He had sent Kik away after the third glass to think about why they couldn't 'stop acting like a bimbo doll.'

That. Stung. Kik had cried for an hour, and then fell asleep. Guess he was ready to 'talk' about it now. 

"Answer me." Edwin's tone is testy. Kik's stomach rolls.

"I- I'm sorry, I just feel a little sick today." Kik says quietly, forcing themself to keep eye contact. "My skin feels weird, I don't know what's going on."

Edwin sighs, and a little bit of his annoyance falters. Obviously, the teen seems a little sickly. He walks over, gently holding the inside of his wrist to Kik's forehead. "This start today?"

"Y-yeah, I just feel like I keep seeing things. I don't know if I haven't been sleeping well or what, but--" Kik rubs their eyes, relieved that Edwin's changed tact. He could be good. He was, sometimes. They decide to trust him. Maybe this time will be different. "The more stressed I get, the more I feel like I can... move the lights around. See the shadows dance around me... and-- no, it's silly."

Edwin's interest piques. Little do they know it, Kik has given him exactly what he wanted.

"What?" Edwin pushes, tone soft. He pushes a lock of brown hair behind Kik's ear, encouraging them.

"I dropped the last glass because I thought I saw my chest glowing." They had been drying off a dish, and turned to put it in the cupboard when they caught a glimpse of something glowing a crimson in the reflection of the fridge. In the black-chrome surface, it looked like Kik's rib bones were emitting light, shining through their body. They looked down to confirm, and the glass slipped from their hand and shattered, breaking the vision. "I-- I think I'm hallucinating."

"No." Edwin smiled, and Kik's heart lurched a little in their chest. Something dark was in his eyes, making his smile... something more akin to a dangerous grin. "No, no, my dear. You're not hallucinating at all. You're just like your mother."

"W-what?" Kik is starting to dislike the way that Edwin is touching them. Like a trophy. A prize.

"You've got the Gift, little lady." He simpers, but then he chuckles. "Oh, I knew keeping you around would be worthwhile! You sure are a late bloomer, that's for sure. Although, maybe that's my own fault."

"Just applying some pressure, huh? That's all you needed? Maybe magic is an instinct? Maybe we should try that, huh?" It's clear he isn't talking to Kik at this point, but the teen is shaking their head. They don't understand what the fuck he's talking about... And they don't want to find out.

[thelreads]

After having a night to think about it, I don't like the direction this is going with Twilight being Melinda's therapist.

First because Twilight isn't a therapist. He's a spy. He's not trained in therapeutic techniques. I mean, even if he was, he shouldn't be handling the personal friend of his wife, that's a conflict of interest. But Twilight not only isn't a therapist, he has ulterior motives as an agent of WISE.

With his past therapy sessions, like with Anya's teacher, he could give advice with no ulterior motive because WISE didn't care if Anya's teacher has a happy marriage. But WISE has a very vested interest in Melinda and her marriage. How can Loid help her, if WISE is telling Twilight what he needs to do? What if Melinda tells Loid that she and her children are being abused, but WISE decides it's better to keep Melinda with Donovan as a source of information? What if WISE decides it's a better strategy to destabilize Melinda even further?

I think Loid and Sylvia would both want to help an abused mother, but I don't trust WISE's upper management. Melinda is basically a bomb that was dropped into their lap, only it's one that can be easily reprogrammed and lobbed right back into the lion's den.

This story is about war and people who do bad things that they think are right. Twilight having to grapple with seeing an abuse victim in front of him--someone who (just like his mother) is abused by her husband, someone who (JUST LIKE HIS MOTHER) has her own children she is trying to protect--and then being told that he has to manipulate her for his mission. No matter how WISE dresses it up, he will 100% be told to encourage her to stay with Donovan so they can get more info. There's no way they'd let him help her escape.

Twilight would come home to his wife and daughter and have to look Yor in the eye while knowing that her best (maybe only) friend--who Yor TRUSTED him with--is being used and manipulated by him. And even if Anya knows her Papa is a liar, if she peeks into his mind and sees him using a vulnerable Melinda for his organization's benefit... Just like Project Apple was doing to her.

I could see Yor forgiving Twilight for being an enemy spy if he manages to convince her that they're both working towards peace between the countries. But this would be a harder betrayal to swallow, post reveal.

HRGAH. I am gnawing at my arm like a wolf stuck in a bear trap.

I'm not that worried about Twilight not being a certified therapist because he has shown to actually understand his role, so he probably studied and is aware of what he can and cannot say, he might be even better than other therapists considering his observation skills.

Now the fact that Melinda might be used by WISE, now that worries me.

I feel this upcoming situation is gonna be a test of character for Twilight. He might be ordered to use Melinda to help further WISE plans to prevent war, but if he'll follow through is another thing. Hell, he might even help her and when WISE questions why he didn't manipulate her he can bullshit them about how she was too unstable and wouldn't be a trustworthy asset or how since she and Donovan don't even have a close relationship she can't provide anything useful for them. He is their best spy, they trust his judgment since he never put personal feelings before the mission so far.

I think we'll see what Twilight truly wants to fight for. It will be the same situation with Anya in the first chapter. Yeah he could've abandoned her when she got caught and went for another kid, it was the safest thing to do for the mission. But he didn't. Because he wants to protect others.

I trust him in that aspect. He has shown quite a lot of times he is not willing to hurt others for the sake of the mission. He didn't abandon Anya, he protected her from that professor who made her cry, when Donovan talked shit to Damian he subtly but decisively stood by Damian's side, and more recently, he didn't kill Yuri. Even though it was the safest course of action, even though nobody would ever know, he didn't do it.

Because it would make Yor sad.

Because he's here to save others, not hurt them.

So, I bet that he might start thinking about how he can use Melinda, but when he gets to know the state she's at, and how Yor wants to help her, he will come to his senses and do whatever he can for her.

Also, I don't think it is a conflict of interests because she's not family. She is his wife's friend, but since he himself is not her friend, he can still treat her, he just needs to keep both the professional as well as personal sides separated.