#and NO ONE cared when i said i wanted to be alone for a little bit

[inknopewetrust]

𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠

When the Emperor summons you, you always answer the call. [Emperor Geta x Fem!Reader] [wc: 3.38k]

Warnings: minors DNI, smut, 18+, slight exhibition kink, pinv sex, unprotected sex (this is Ancient Rome, whores), Geta be a little submissive and possessive, corruption, dirty talk. I do not take responsibility for satan causing me to write this.

When you were summoned to the coliseum after dark, there was no questioning what be the cause.

The corridors of the great arena were near silent; distant growls and scratching claws filled its catacombs with a crawling anticipation: when the Emperor called, world at his feet quieted to hear his presence. Feeling the sands of the stage shift and meet the seats of the empty audience, there was nothing but the moonlight and wind to greet you.

You were not alone in Rome’s greatest achievement. The ghosts of the gladiators watched over the wicked as they fed off the suffering of the poor.

But when the guard left you to your devices upon the imperial seat looking over the arena, you forgot the evil that took over the man who called.

“It is quite the sight, no?”

In the silence of the amphitheater Geta’s words were quiet yet threatened to bounce off in echos. You ran your hands over the marble ledge. It’s once smooth nature lifting in bumps every inch of the glide your hand made. A gust of wind fluttered the fabric of your chiton to dance around your legs.

Geta dismissed his most loyal guard at the sight of you.

“It is different in the light,” you answered. The sand below you was not stained of blood and there was no chanting of what the Gods would decide of fate. “Peaceful… if I dare say.”

“If you were not to speak freely I would not have let my men go.”

“So there is no fear to be had here?” You turned your head over your shoulder. Barely capturing him in your vision, Emperor Geta leaned against his brother’s seat. The edge of the stone resting his body as his eyes traced you against the backdrop of his arena.

“There is no one to fear, my lady,” he spoke.

Emperor Geta was a man you had known for a long while. As children he often sought you out as a companion of play while his father helped prime himself and his brother, Caracalla, for their ascent to the throne. You, on the outskirts of royalty within a wealthy family of semi-relevant status to the Caesar, were allowed in their court as a potential wife.

The status of wife never came but it did not stop Geta from perusing you into adulthood.

It was on nights like these when the clouds floated to cover the moon and the poor laid soundly on the gravel on the outset of the building that Geta felt a need to see you, to have you for himself before the reality of morning came tumbling upon him. Weakened by his thoughts of want and bruised from a victory turned sour, his eyes shimmered in the darkness while the necessity grew.

But you knew the intent.

The one guard, never different from the last, summoning you from your villa with a coded message of: vi et animo, with heart and soul. Descend upon the place where he shall be waiting and when the act is done, as always, the same guard would see you home and little would be said between the next occasion. An invitation to sit behind him at a fight always went unanswered; the feasts in a Senator’s name would go uneaten.

You always had something to fear when a man, whom you had grown to be so utterly conflicted in lust and hatred, reigned unfairness from his palace on top a hill. The shining city of Rome was not what it once was but Geta cared for nothing except what he wanted.

And while you never accepted the invitations beyond these, the jewels around your neck, the ones that hung from your ears, and the pulsing of your heart spoke wonders for the truth within you.

Geta watched as your head turned back around and your hands curled over the balcony’s edge. His fingers rapped against the back of the chair; rings clashing against the golden adornments at the bristle of your objection.

“What summons me here?” You prompted. “Are the others not enough for you? Do they not fill your cup on nights as brutal as these?”

You were not to call the women he sought whores. They made their choices, or, they had none, but their actions did not relegate themselves to lesser. How were you any better than them? With your gold and your home and your money? You believed yourself, on the worst of nights, to be a wealthier version of what they had been subject to but unlike many of them, you let this linger beyond the reasonable time.

“I wish to think you know better than to question the call of your Emperor. You showed, after all.”

“I do not question your wants… what keeps you ticking,” you turned to rest your back away from the arena. Geta admired the wrap of your gown tightening against the stone. “You should be celebrating the conquering. Rome has just expanded. There is a celebration at the palace and yet you are here amongst the prisoners and the animals.”

“And you,” he looked pointedly.

Geta’s makeup was gone from the day. He wore a tunic of red and white with the golden laurels weaved in its fabric. The orange of his hair had gone muted in the dark.

“And me,” you agreed. “You have me here, Caesar—“

“Geta.”

You eyed him.

“Why are you playing a game tonight? You denied my invitation—“

“It is not my place,” you cut in. “I am no wife, I am not a… woman of a man’s delight. I did not wish to be an object on an arm.”

“I could have your head for such an implication,” he warned.

“You wouldn’t,” you affirmed. “No one else would be dragged here to kneel before you so willingly.”

“You want to be on your knees?”

You shook your head at him with a tick. No one would dare to speak to him like you. But you knew it bothered him in ways he couldn’t manifest. The blood rushing through his body—you challenged him in a way only he would allow you.

Geta removed his arm from the back of the seat and stepped down to you. Each step closer and closer until he came to rest directly in front of you and caged you like the animals below. Arms expanding on either side of you; his breath invading your space as his nose nicked yours. You shuddered; back piercing into the travertine not in fear but anticipation.

To be the lover of a corrupted Emperor… you had him in the palm of your hand.

“You speak so freely,” he hissed. “And yet you tremble in my presence.”

In an instant, your breathing had gone staggered. His hands drew into you. Feeling up the sides of your body as he pushed himself on you.

“The tremble is not you. It’s me.”

“I am the only one to make you feel this way, yes?”

His hands roamed freely. Geta’s thumbs rumbled up the fabric of the front of your body while his fingertips hardened against you. The plushness of your skin was melting to him. His nose tipped against your chin to turn your head upwards.

“Your Emperor asked you a question.”

“If I said no,” you breathed in as his fingers groped harder. They cupped your breasts from above and back down again. “What would become of me?”

“I’d lock you away,” he wouldn’t. “I’d see to you myself in the cells below the palace. You’d wear nothing,” you scoffed and his lip quirked up. You could feel his lips change against the column of your neck. “And when people would ask of you, they would not be allowed to see you.”

“So you would not want them to see us like this?”

He let out a low, bemused chuckle. “This is for me, us, to enjoy. But if you imagine the whole of Rome watching us, then please, my dear, listen to them.”

Geta rose his lips to your ear as his hands fell to your hips and then one of your legs. He maneuvered to grip the back of one of your thighs and opened up space for him to fall further into you. You could feel his excitement; the prodding of his want against your clothed self. His hot breath and lips danced across your cheek.

“Can you hear them? Gasping at the sight of you. It is the most beauty they have ever seen. So wet and glistening for their ruler.”

“And what of their Emperor?” Your hand came to clutch the extra fabric of his chest. His heart under your hand was picking up in paces. Beating against his ribcage while his eyes blew lustful.

“They should see their Emperor on his throne,” you commanded.

He dropped your leg and with a push from your hand on his chest, Geta stepped backwards until you pushed him to meet his throne. The seat wide for his liking, he sat upon it and grasped at the loose fabric of your dress at your hips.

“Further.” He pushed himself further back into the seat. Using the small step at the base of Geta’s seat, you lifted yourself onto him with your knees on either side.

“While he’s on his throne,” you let him pool the fabric into his hands and draw it upwards. You sat atop him and relished the way you could feel him grown underneath. “They shall see his weakness.”

“I do not have a weakness,” he growled, one hand clasping the back of your neck and forcing your face an inch from his own. You rolled your hips on him. His fingers adjusted the grip on the back of your neck and he hesitated. “I-I do not have a weakness.”

“Then what am I here for?” You asked against his lips and through his hesitancy, he gazed into your eyes before capturing his lips with yours. You sucked in a breath; cupping his head with both of your hands in strength.

Your fingers raked through his hair with a tug as his lips refused to separate themselves form yours. So desperate in want, he clutched himself on to you and your tongues melted together as one the longer he held you. One of his hands pulled on your dress and moved you forward, then tugging backwards to encourage you to grind above him. You needn’t a command to roll your body onto his.

Where your core rested on him, his erection formed against his tunic. You lined up, dragging yourself along the length of him and back. He pulled his lips away with a tug on your bottom lip. Geta bunched up your dress and watched as your cunt glided as best it could along his clothes. Each thrust painting the fabric a shade deeper he could see even in the night.

He was mesmerized. Entranced by your body—no different than the times he had taken you in the light or dusk of a day. You pussy glistened in the moonlight. Dripping with ecstasy as you only felt the outline of his cock above the thin piece that separated you.

Geta, annoyed the the amount of fabric that was your gown and released it roughly.

“Take it off,” he ordered. You huffed, unfurling it from the ties in on the side and letting it fall to the step below. Fully nude on his throne, his hands groped your ass to kiss you again.

“What of you?”

Geta simply pulled up the tunic on his chest and his cock sprung up in response. “You should know conscience now.”

“Us women do not see the same pleasures,” you meant in the form of clothing being simply. Geta quirked his head to the side and leaned it back against his seat.

He sat an awkward angle but was semi-sitting up with you on top of him. You lifted on your knees and palmed at his member with purpose. Remembering the lines and curve like the stones outside of your home, you pumped him as a grunt left his throat.

“I see that you do.”

“Not that anyone would know,” you snided.

Again, he furrowed his brows. “Do you want people to see? All of Rome to see what a woman of your stature does to me?”

“They don’t need to see, Geta,” you sighed and moved up on him. “If you wish to take a wife, that is already implied.”

“You are far too beautiful to be a wife. You are a goddess.”

“Who can only be sought in darkness.”

“That is when you come alive,” his eyes closed at the feel of his tip at the entrance of you. Moving back and forth along your slit while the wetness gathered to make his intrusion easier. The pull of your walls making room for him as you sunk down to take him whole; the claw of your fingernails into his chest at the sensation.

Your knees dug into the harshness of the chair as its girth, and his own, sent you ascending. Your back arched as his fingertips drove goosebumps along your spine. You started grinding on his cock slowly. Clit rubbing against his pubic bone, gently caressing your most sensitive bit as he gripped your hips tightly. You looked down at him prompting his stare to reach through you. It grabbed your soul and reminded you of all the reasons you kept answering his call.

Geta filled you completely. The stretch of him long and wide, your hands fell back to his knees and propelled you as you bounced on him the best your body could. He trusted up to you as the matched inside of you both struck hot and heavy. The burn of your body, the pulse of heat between your legs grew while the slick of your arousal coated his dick every time you sunk back down.

His hands bruised. They tightly gripped you as though you would slip away into the darkness should he let go. He needed to feel you in more ways than one. The digging of your nails into his skin transposed by the burn of his palms on your waist, hips, thighs, and wherever else they could touch.

“Look at you,” he praised breathlessly. “A God to a King.”

A Venus of Rome.

“My Venus,” Geta cut between his teeth. “Mine.”

His own pace superseded your own. Geta’s hips snapped up, racing a high that hit him like Cupid’s own bow straight to the heart. His pace was parading his strength he did not often show beyond words and measures. Your hands failed you on his knees and forced you forward.

Geta grabbed at your jawline, hand crushing your chin.

“You are mine,” he repeated. “No other man shall have you—as a wife nor lover.”

Your silence maddened him. He was relentless in his mission to send you to the edge. You could barely catch your breath and your chest, naked as the day you were born, rose and fell rapidly as the faint sheen of sweat washed over you.

“Do you understand me?” Geta stopped his movements and your shoulder jolted uncontrollably. He was the only one who had ever sent your body’s muscles into overdrive.

“Yes,” you nodded with his hand still grasping your jaw. “Yes, Geta.”

His eyes flicked back and forth between your own. You were truthful even if you hated him some days.

“Good,” he agreed with his own nod. “Turn around.”

“What?”

“Turn around,” Geta ordered again. “Your Emperor commands you.”

He released your jaw dismissively and let his hands fall beside his legs. You lifted yourself from him with a shiver and maneuvered yourself front facing. The arena before you, the empty spectator seats still viewing you freely in coitus. Geta’s hands roamed over your ass and up your back as you turned. He grasped himself at the base of his cock and lined up his head to you again.

“Come down,” he commanded.

You joined together as one again and you were quick to realize you had no bearings. There was nothing to hold on to, nothing to support you except what little resistance your knees could gather against the harsh seat.

As though Geta could read your mind, he drew you back. He leaned you all the way against him to where you were nearly laying as though on a bed yet still angled as though lounging on a chaise. The new angle pushed his cock to the sweetest pull, pushing against your plush walls and letting a gasp escape you in turn. Geta smoothed the sides of your body while your feet turned under you and you let your weight lay on him.

He ran over your breasts slowly. Nipples long pebbled, he squeezed the flesh and brought them up before releasing them again. Geta brought his head to incline into yours as he thrusted into you once more.

“I see their jealousy. All of them—“ the non-existent spectators “—wanting to fuck a woman like you. If they saw an Empress so bare, so exposed, what would they do?”

Geta’s tone had become selfish. His pace returned to an unrelenting finish. He pounded into you. Each snap hitting your most pleasured spot perfectly as his hands cradled you and his words filled your mind with him.

“How would they feel seeing their Emperor defile the most exquisite creature that has ever graced Rome?”

“They would all wish to be you,” you admitted. His words of praise hit you as hard as his cock. Your head tossed back onto his shoulder.

“Open your eyes, darling. Head up.”

You did as commanded—like any good subject would do.

“This will be yours,” he guided one of your hands into his and brought them both to your bud as the other wrapped around your waist. With his finger atop yours, he helped circle your clit as his end was near.

“This land, Rome, can be ours. Just ours.”

That was, if he would ever be given permission to marry and the match was fixed.

“Gladiators in your name, fighting to see your beauty. Feasts and splendor for the sake of our children…”

The familiar heat in your core began to bubble like the markings of a volcano. You turned your head to his and kissed him deeply at the thought, rubbing your clit furiously with the help of his hand and relishing the way his cock completed your body.

“I will marry you,” Geta reaffirmed as his words caught every second his hips threatened to stutter at his release. “I will marry you I swear to the Gods if it is the last thing I do.”

Maybe you believed him, maybe you did not. Yet you would feel nothing but him and only him and everything he gave you in that moment. The utter devotion and the most raw form of his propensity.

If the night were not already fallen, you saw the waves of Heaven wash over you as the eruption of your orgasm shakes you to the core. The blinding hues of what Venus had brought upon you leaving you gasping for breath. Thoughtless and wordless of promises that carry on with the shaking of your thighs and soft whispers of marriage from his lips. Geta’s own release was missed by you. Mere seconds after your own, he stilled as his hips stuttered into you and the legacy of his spent began to leak beyond where he filled you.

Geta released his hand from your own and rubbed your arms soothingly as you laid heavier on him than before. The wear of your brilliance forging his content sighs. He closed his eyes as your head knocked into his own and the two of you sat there, in the empty arena, alone as one.

“I swear to the Gods,” he assured once more. “I will make you my wife.”

And if the Gods were fair, you would know it to be true. But they have never been fair in the life you knew. So, how could they be true now?

A/N: couldn’t help writing for Geta. The men of gladiator have me in a chokehold. Thanks for reading and while it isn’t required, reblogs and comments help writers the most! ♥️ [not proof read yet]

[vampiresbloodx]

She tastes so sweet.

Pitfighter!vi going down on you for the first time and becoming addicted.

warnings: smut 18+ ONLY, vaginal fingering, semi public sex, bathroom sex, hook ups, clubs, alcohol, kissing, marking, service top!vi, reader has no confirmed gender but they're wearing a dress in this for the scenario reasons, vi is quiet a fuckboy, oral sex (reader receiving)

Vi has always had her fair sure of fun over the years, she wasn't new to this, after she wins a match she just really wants to fuck someone.

She goes to a club where she'll know exactly who to find, she's scanning the room where her eyes land on you, who happen to be dancing with their friends, enjoying yourself as you look so pretty.

Vi smirks.

That's the one.

You just looked so nice in that dress you were wearing, she just wanted to rip it off and see whats underneath, your smile is enough to make anyone swoon, she wonders if you even know those that eye you in the dark from afar when you aren't watching.

The loud music blasts in her ears as she takes a sip of her beer, everything was loud, but she liked it, she needed it.

She felt good and she wanted to make someone else feel good.

It's not the first time she's seen you around, she's spotted you before, she's just been watching you, keeping her eye on you, making sure you're okay, while your friends get shit faced drunk, you don't seem like the type to get drunk easily, maybe a little tipsy, but that happens with everyone after a few cups.

When she sees your friend whisper something in your ear she knew she was going to leave you alone, she didn't like that, not when she spotted a guy checking you out, was she doing the same thing? Yes, but that guy had red flags all over him, he was bad news.

Vi didn't trust him.

As soon as you were left alone, seemingly in your own world, enjoying the music, the guy makes his way to you, taking advantage of it. Immediately, vi places her drink back down as she walks through the crowd of drunk people.

Before the guy could even say anything to you, she grabbed a drink already and purposely bumped into him, spilling it all over him, he swore under his breath.

"damn, you should probably go clean that up" Vi said, staring him down, he should know vi wasn't playing around with you and he scoffed, cursing more as he stormed off.

Then there was you, still oblivious to the whole thing.

She taps you on the shoulder, causing you to jump slightly as you turned around, probably expecting your friend.

"hi?" You slurred, she smiled, thinking it was cute. "Have you seen Hannah? Is she back yet?" You ask.

Vi shakes her head, "sorry, dunno Hannah is."

"fuckin' bitch probably left me with some dick" you groaned in annoyance, she couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"I could accompany you, if you want", vi offered, she wanted to be smooth about this, not being to obvious that she wanted to get in your pants, but the way you raised your eyebrows at her and checked her out, your eyes roaming her entire body which made her heart flutter, she knew what you wanted.

Before she knows it, she's pushing you against the wall of the bathroom that smells like shit but she couldn't care less, all she focused on was the taste of your lips and how soft they felt against hers. She heard you chuckle, as she pushed your dress up, you held it up for her as she kissed her way down, leaving her marks, enjoying the way you squirmed for her and moaned, fuck, she needed you.

She places her fingers inside your panties to tease you, she moans at how wet you already were, you let out a moan as she dipped her finger easily inside your wet folds, you felt so good, she pumped her finger in and out of you slowly at first, you were a whining mess, your hands gripping her shoulders.

She watched you in awe, as she felt you clench around her, it was making her dizzy, she's never fucked someone this wet before, well, not in a long time.

She pulls her fingers out hearing you whine, she doesn't say anything but grins, bending down on her knees as she kisses down your stomach, just above your waist, you body was begging for it and so was you, she loved the way noises you made, it drove her insane.

Once she pulled off your underwear fully, it was soaked, she moaned at the sight of your pussy, how pretty it looked, how much it needed her. Her own core throbbed, as she leaned in, pressing a kiss to it as she licks up your slit, hearing you moan louder and grip her hair harder, she smirks.

Vi dips her tongue in between your folds, twirling it around and making you squeal and squirm, she was showing just how fucking good she was with her mouth and she wanted to make you come on her tongue. She knew you were close with how she purposely didn't let you come before on her fingers, she wanted to taste you instead, and my god, you taste wonderful.

She couldn't get enough.

She keeps going, her hands on your thighs to hold them up as she watches you, your head against the wall, your eyes closed, getting lost in the feeling as she can't help but feel cocky about it.

Her tongue goes to tease circles at your clit, you whined, pushing your face into her, you looked so pretty like this, looking like a complete mess, moaning and whining for her while she eats you out.

She knows how much you like it too.

Your grip gets tighter as she knows you're close, she just wanted to relish in this feeling, she finally got you where she always wanted. She couldn't help but feel more smug, knowing how easy she can make you cum, make you a crying mess for her, she's obsessed, really. She wants more. She pushes her tongue into you, hearing you gasp as she fucks you with her tongue, moaning at the taste, you whimper above her, riding her face as she's in heaven.

She watches you come with a cry of her name, not even caring how loud you are in the moment, she loves it, she loves every bit of it, she leans away, licking her lips as you stared at her in a daze with a smile, your hand still in her hair.

"you wanna come to mine, sweetheart?" She asks, you've never agreed to something so fast in your life.

[boomstab-papa]

Oh absolutely, giving misogynists captive girlfriends/wives isn't going to fix anything. Being a little more misogynist to try to appease misogynists won't work.

But "giving any credence" is such an interesting phrase to use here, because it's so ambiguous and also accusatory. What does "giving credence" mean? Who has been doing it? What have they been advocating for? Who, for example, has been saying leftists should be more misogynist, and how?

I'm not alone in this confusion, either, there are several comments on the tweet who are equally perplexed.

The fact is that the left DOES NEED a better approach to people who are feeling lost, angry, and scared.

Alt-right "self-help" authors and programs are hugely popular. These predators target lost, scared, and angry people. They're cults, really. And no matter how much the left discusses things like "can we stop parroting bioessentialist bullshit because hey, men aren't destined to be misogynistic assholes"... these alt-right cultists don't ever even have to TALK TO a leftist to repeatedly hear "leftists hate you for being born white/male/rich/etc". I really can't get over how Rush Limbaugh popularized the term "feminiazi" and told an entire generation that feminists were angry man-haters when they literally are not. But that's exactly how the grift works!! I should know, I grew up in exactly this Rush Limbaugh kind of house!!

"Don't blame the hyper-wealthy for ruining the economy, blame women and foreigners for taking all the jobs! Don't blame the ruined economy when nobody wants to have kids anymore, blame the women! Don't blame patriarchy and all the misogyny it taught you when women avoid your misogynist ass, blame the women! Remember, the feminazis hate you!!"

So what to do?

On an interpersonal level, sometimes it can be really easy. This is a comment made to Innuendo Studios's video "How to Radicalize A Normie" on this exact topic (which I highly recommend watching).

"Hey, ex-alt-right member here. First, really like this series. I feel like you’re validating the radicalization that me and my male friends experienced. Putting it into words and showing us how we got tricked, exposing the magician and their tricks. Second, I vot out not through argument and discussion but actually through feelings. I was very edgy and would use the n-word in jokes all the time. My male friends would not call me out on it. But a female friend of mine said it made her uncomfortable and that she didn’t appreciate these jokes when we played fortnite together. That shook me to my core as I cared for my friend and that’s how my deradicaliztion started. Just wanted to add in this personal story, keep up the great work :)"

If this is someone you know, tell them their behavior is not cool.

THIS GOES DOUBLE FOR THE MEN READING THIS. Misogynists are more likely to listen to you than they are to listen to women!! If someone is being a shithead in your vicinity, consider: are you gonna let it slide? Or are you maybe, possibly, going to be the one thing that yanks them out of a hatespiral and prompts them to re-examine their hateful worldview? Tell them "hey not cool".

This might not work the first time. This might not work at all for some people. But if the situation is relatively safe, then it's worth trying.

And this does not mean that you personally are responsible for "centering men in your conversations" or "marginalized people putting in even more emotional labor" or "if a man is misogynist it's because you failed him" what the fuck ever like I've seen in this discourse. Come the fuck on.

It means you can probably try saying something to somebody you know. And if it doesn't work? You can say you tried.

On a policy level, we have more work to do. It shouldn't come as a surprise to any leftist that the current economic and political system in the USA exists to separate and exploit people. I think we all agree it really sucks to live in a system like this. Your average reactionary misogynist also thinks the system sucks, but as explained above, they've been trained to place the blame on some convenient scapegoats instead. Immigrants. Women. Queer people. Muslims. Anybody who's not white. Et cetera. "Government needs to get out of the way of smart people and then Elon Musk will build a utopia for The Faithful (which includes me) on Mars" or some shit.

These people need to hear that their anger is justified, but that their blame is misplaced. They need policies that will hold the responsible parties accountable. They need policies that won't leave them impoverished and isolated and exhausted after working a 40+ hour work week. They need to realize the system isn't sorting people into "the worthy rich" and "the unworthy poor", rather, that it's exploiting everyone except the wealth-owning class. They need to realize it's their politicians' biggest campaign donors that are doing this to them.

The Democratic Party needs to actually talk about this. I'll be dangerously pithy here: the Democratic Party needs to sound more like Bernie Fucking Sanders. Politicians need to oppose health insurance companies and get Medicare For All going. Politicians need to stop voting to give the military two fucking billion dollars every single day and fund free college and trade schools. Politicians need to tell business interests to fuck off and get a livable minimum wage AND a universal basic income passed, which will severely undercut employers' ability to exploit and isolate us.

And we need Citizens United repealed. Badly. I'm not trying to imply the problem is only with Republicans' campaign donors, because Democrats' biggest campaign donors are also often the same people exploiting us. But look at how Democrats did a tiny little bit of pro-union and anti-trust work these past 4 years and they screamed bloody fucking murder. If Democrats are relying on these people's money to get them elected, I think it's going to be really hard to get policies passed that will actually make USAmericans safer and happier (ie. address Republicans' economic fears that they keep blaming on various scapegoats).

Although with Republicans controlling the entire Federal government for the next two years minimum, this feels more distant than ever.

That's what we need to be taking seriously. If you don't give any credence to the fears and insecurities underlying the horrifying reactionary politics, you're not actually addressing anything. If you can't admit that capitalism fucks all of us over and makes all of us miserable and looking for a remedy, are you even a leftist?

[yung-notorious]

ALWAYS SOME NEW SHIT, AIN’T NEVER THE USUAL! I FUCK YOU SO GOOD TILL I HAVE YOU DELUSIONAL! - ♡

— your roommates are gone, the apartment is yours, and you're laid up in bed with somethin' dangerous. all you need is him, his hands, and a little time to make the most of it. — feat. satoru gojo

+18 MDI. WARNINGS. baddie!reader x college!gojo, excerpt from never lose my chapter 8, porn with plot, situationship, morning sex, that good 'ol sunday dick, protected sex, dirty talk, body worship, sub/dom undertones, trust & boundaries, slight cum play, squirting, riding, fingering, voice kink, gojo kink(?), edging & milking, overstimulation, gojo’s character may be questionable but his stroke game is A1. notes. word count 5.8K, apart of a larger body of work but can stand alone as a one-shot. you can read the full chapter here: A03 & master post. title: lick me - sexyy red ft. lil baby. divider: fairytopea (tumblr)

You knew Satoru was bullshitting when he said he’d be on the phone for a few more minutes. He’s been chatting away for an extra thirty, and you’ve already gone through your entire Instagram feeds stories and now the Tiktok burnout is starting to set in.

Exhausted from doom scrolling, you chuck your phone somewhere across the bed to snuggle deeper into his embrace, resting your head against his chest. You don’t have a single fucking clue what’s being said anymore with his ear now pressed against the phone, but whatever it is definitely isn't related to earlier’s conversation. You think you catch mention of the school’s football team and the names of people you don’t recognize, but at this point, you’re too out of the loop to care. He’s lucky you actually like being around him, because had this been anyone else you’d probably kick them out telling them to go the fuck home.

What’s even more surprising is that despite being bored out of your mind, chilling with him in bed while he talks on the phone is strangely confronting. You’ve had your share of intimate moments at your young age, but you’ve never simply laid up like this with a guy before. It’s domestic as hell— whatever the girls online call it— but you’re not pushing it away. 

Resting your head on his chest as he rubs your shoulder, you let the rhythm of his voice wrap around you like a warm blanket. There’s this cool boyish charm that comes through as he talks— a side of him you’ve caught glimpses of only a few times when he’s speaking to his friends. He’s more commanding and animated, yet somehow still a relaxed version of himself all together, nearly a polar opposite of how he is with you.

And you know what? That’s exactly how it should be, you’re not the one to be treated like a homie. And even though his friends do annoy the hell out of you when they’re together, seeing him be himself with them is undeniably attractive and lowkey turning you on. 

Shifting over onto your stomach, you tuck an arm behind his neck, hooking a leg around his waist, letting your free hand slowly trail down his body feeling him up. Stopping to rest your hand on the inside of his thigh, you look up, waiting for a reaction. 

When you don’t get one— he’s still chatting away— you decide to take it a step further, slowly creeping your hand up to cup his balls, palming his bulge. 

It only takes a couple good rubs for you to feel his dick harden beneath you. Feeling bold, you wrap a tight fist around his length stroking him through his briefs. All it takes is a couple tight ones for his thighs to widen up and you take that as permission to go further. 

Slipping a hand under his waistband to squeeze his dick, you watch him bite his lip, still ignoring you as he lazily stares up at the ceiling. He can try to act all cool and unbothered all he wants, but you know exactly how to melt his ice.

Taking charge, you rub your thumb carefully around his slit, your acrylic nail getting caught in the fabric of his briefs with each pressing circle. It doesn't take much effort before you’re feeling the wetness of his pre sticking to the pad of your thumb as you. Pausing to collect up what you can to wet his shaft, you grip your hand back around his length giving him more quick strokes.

Feeling more daring, you connect your lips to his neck, slowly peppering soft, wet kisses along his skin as you continue working your hand around his dick and balls. You’re finding some sort of fun in all this really, feeling him up in every which way you please while he lays beside you trying to act like he’s not bricked the hell up. 

You can hear every grunt that gets stuck in his throat and cracking of his toes each time you press against the underside of his tip. It’s kind of funny how you’re unsure who’s more of a slut now: you for daring to do this, or him for letting it happen while he’s on a call. Y’all are both some trouble! 

Just as you’re about to go for a gentle bite on his ear you feel the deep bass of his voice against your lips. 

“Choso— Choso…bro I’ma let you go…I’ll try to be over there later tonight. Alright, I'll talk to you later. Bye.” He ends the call to lean over— your hand still tightly wrapped around his dick— to drop his phone onto the nightside with a loud thud.

Unfortunately for him, no matter how hard he tries to maintain his composure, it’ll be his own body that will betray him every single time. Men, they’re so fucking weak. You probably could rob him with a fleshlight.

Falling back onto the mattress, he turns to give you a look before opening his mouth, and of all the things you expect him to say, it definitely isn’t, “Why’d you interrupt my phone call?”

“Because you talk too much.” You say smart, releasing him to wipe your hand clean on his briefs along the side of his hip. Sitting up on your elbow to rest your cheek in your hand, you hover above his face to stare down at him challengingly, awaiting his response. This could go one or two ways, but you know for sure either way ends with you getting fucked. 

"All I needed was a few minutes.” He murmurs, his hand glides up your chest stopping just below your neck before gently tracing your jawline with his thumb. 

“I gave you that, now I want your attention.” You cock your head. “Did you forget where you were at?”

"You have it— so now what’s up?" He asks, his tone still soft, eyes locked on yours as he tilts your chin up just as your hand slides over to squeeze his thigh.

“You know what I want…” You breathe, inching closer to his bulge. 

“Yeah?” He lets go of your chin, trailing his hand down your chest. “You don’t have to ask me— could have just pulled it out.” Eyes still locked on yours as you slip a hand under his waistband.  

Letting you go, he gives you space to slip under the covers, lifting his hips to help you tug off his briefs. The second they're gone, your hand is around him, leaning over to take him between your lips. You know exactly how he likes it— your mouth and hand wrapped tight around the tip, teasing him with just the right amount of pressure that’ll make his toes curl.

You know you're doing a good job when his hand resting at the back of your neck tightens, turning into a firm grip that keeps you exactly where he wants you. Not wanting to try your luck deep throating him just yet, you brace yourself with a hand on his thigh for balance, but soon find yourself running your hand along the muscle instead, grabbing on wherever please, feeling out their solid weight and smoothness. Even though his dick is the main event— hot, thick, and heavy in your hands each time you pull off to catch your breath— it’s his thighs that have your full attention. Maybe next time you'll leave a trail of bites and hickeys along them, marking him up good just because you can.

“Get in between my legs...” He throws the covers back making room for you. Without a second thought, you crawl between his thighs, and just as you’re about to shift down the bed to lay on your stomach, his voice interrupts.

“Uh-uh, sit up...” He whispers, and despite it being nothing more than a gentle correction, it still finds a way to make your stomach tingle. You can’t even lie, that bossy shit turns you up. Glancing up at him, you slowly prop yourself up on your elbows to part your knees just enough, arching yourself down low, nice and sexy in a way you know he’ll like. 

Bobbing your head up and down his dick, you lose track of every grunt and curse you pull past his lips. The wet, squishy sounds from each tight squeeze, paired with the clacking of your pretty nails around his dick, become a rhythm you get lost in until the growing dampness in your panties pulls you back in. Fuck, you’re going to have to speed this up because you really want to fuck now.

“Sloppy, baby. Make it—” His voice breaks off, caught in his throat as you pull off to throw a nasty wad of spit on his dick, watching as it drips down his length. “There you go…” He murmurs, a grin tugging at his lips. You don’t even need to look up to know he’s smiling. Anything for him, right?

“Gotta get the sides too. All of it. Just how I taught you...” His words make your stomach tighten. Glancing up through your lashes, you latch onto his shaft, tongue tracing long, slow licks along his length. The salty taste of him mixing with the slick of your spit as you pump the head of his dick with a tight fist.

“Sloppier…spit on it some more…get that shit wet for me…” He murmurs, bringing his hands down into your hair to gently pull back to keep out of your face. Taking a moment to lick his pre-cum and drool off your lips, you teasingly slap his dick against your tongue, testing its weight. Spitting down onto him again, you let it drip slow and messy before taking him back into your mouth, your lips wrapping tight around him. As you glance up, you catch him smiling down at you, and you can’t help but sheepishly smile back. You used to hate giving head, but for him— talking to you like this— you’ll keep going till he busts in your mouth twice. 

You swear everytime he looks at you like that, something inside you loosens up. You never thought sex could be like this— fun, messy, and so damn freeing. That it’s not just about getting him off; but letting yourself enjoy it too. 

Remembering the times he’s whispered for you to drop your innocence and open up awakens those butterflies in your stomach. It’s a mystery how in such a short time of knowing him, he’s managed to create a safe space for you to let go and push past the boundaries you once clung to— all without a hint of judgment. 

But no matter how amazing everything feels with him, there’s this nagging thing that won’t leave you alone—a constant reminder of how off this all this really is. No matter how hard you try to push it aside, the truth is starting to feel impossible to shake, and the longer you avoid the elephant in the room, the harder it becomes to hold it all together. It’s doubt that creeps in at the end of every night, makes you wonder if any of this is even real. But fuck it, you don’t have the time to make any sense of it right now. You can talk it out with Tink later, you have to get this nut in. 

"Ahmp!" You bite back a moan, caught off guard as his hand slaps your ass right when he shifts to sit up.

“Come up here…” He says, and without a second thought, you slide your soaked panties off to straddle his lap. Once fully seated, you wrap your hand around his dick, stroking him from behind your back, while your other hand rests against his shoulder for support. You can feel your wetness sticking against him, and it’s taking every ounce of willpower not to be a horny bunny and grind your sloppy wet pussy against his chest.

“You know where that condom at?” The question catches you off guard, making you pause— again, definitely not what you expected to hear. Someone’s full of surprises today, huh?

“Yeah, why?” You give him a confused look.

“It’s early, and I’m still kinda tired…I don’t wanna have to worry about pulling out. It be in the back of my mind when we fuck...” He says, warm hands smoothing along your stomach then up around your ribs.

Okay, cool, good to know at least one of you is trying to be responsible. Condom? Sure. Not a problem!

“I think it’s in here.” You lean over, trying to search in the top drawer of your nightstand without tipping over. “Hold me.” You warn, feeling yourself about to topple over. His hands quickly find your waist steadying you. 

“I got it.” You find it stuck beneath a pile of clutter you've been meaning to sort out.

Handing him the gold foil, you scoot back a bit, giving him space to do his thing. As much as you love the feeling of raw sex, there’s something seriously hot about watching him work a tight fist along his length, struggling to stretch the latex over his girth. And as if that wasn’t enough, the damage your sanity takes from his dick snapping back against his abdomen when he lets go is downright disrespectful. 

“Come on— ready?” He grabs you at your ribs, pulling you forward towards him, your breath hitches at his sudden eagerness. “You don’t need this…” He tugs at your shirt, and the second it’s off he’s grabbing hold of your boobs, squeezing them and sucking on your nipples like a baby. Never too tired to suck titties, huh!?

Taking your hand to guide his dick to your entrance, you carefully sink down onto the tip. Yet, no matter how many times you’ve done this, the feeling of just the head pushing through is one that’ll never get easier even with time. 

It’s harder this time around— his dick— no pun intended. After nearly a week of constant sex, you have no choice but to take him slow, inch by inch, feeling yourself clench around him as you sink down.

“Gimme a second…” You plead, pressing your hand against his chest to keep him from bucking his hips up. On a good day you could take all of him, but with the way he’s bricked up, you’re not trying to bite off more than you can chew. See, this is that early morning dick, It’ll be a lot more than hurtful words flying out of your mouth if he so much as attempts to push you down. 

“Take your time…” He teases, bringing both his hands to rub soothing circles along your jawline, fingers combing through your tresses around your nap. “Too much?”

“It’s enough— you’re not little.” You laugh, bouncing slowly on his length, giving your wetness a chance to moisten the condom as you try to fully take him in. It’s painstakingly slow working your sore pussy down his stiff dick, but guess this is the price you pay for letting him fuck you like a dog all week. 

“My bad…” He chuckles. “Here, come lay on my chest— hmm.” He pulls you into his arms. Slanging one around your back, he scoots the both of you further down the bed gripping a handful of your ass to help guide you down his length.

“It’s too dry…” You come back up, the friction of the condom becoming unbearable as you feel yourself drying up from frustration. This isn’t working.  

“I got you…” He brings two fingers to his mouth to wet them. Pulling out, he uses those same fingers to stroke your pussy, rubbing tight circles on and around your clit. Burying your face in his neck to stifle your moans, you feel yourself grow wetter as he whispers filthy praises in your ear, urging you on. 

“This better?” He lips brush against the shell of your ear. Your thighs quiver with each teasing stroke to your clit, the oversensitivity heightening your arousal. And like a slut you can’t do much but moan against his neck when you feel those same two fingers sink into your heat. Curling deep, giving himself a feel around your velvety walls.

“Mhm…” You nod, slowly rolling your hips down to ride his hand. The exploratory movements of his fingers driving deep, stroking your g-spot. “Right there…fuck…right there…” 

“I got you baby…I got you...” His palm presses against your clit as he drives his fingers even faster making sure to hit that sweet spot over and over, he’s so damn deep he could poke your cervix if he pleased. “…you’re squeezing baby, relax for me…there you go…how that feel, good?”

“Toru…I’ma fucking squirt…” You warn, already feeling yourself start to leak. Shit feels so fucking good he needs to publish a wikiHow on finger stroking pussy.

“Show me— go ‘head baby…you know I got you…” He exhales heavily, his other hand running through your hair to hold you close to him as he bullies your pussy like a pro, digging your coochie out so good, leaving her sorer than when you started. It’s a good soreness though, a sweet discomfort that’s nothing more than a reminder of how throughly he’s fucked you the past week. 

“Fuck— hmmmm!” You grip his hair tight, trying your damn hardest to hold back the moan that’s fighting to erupt from you, but it’s no use because all it takes is one final stroke to your g-spot and you're cumming harder than a bull.

“Oh my god!” You cry out, clenching down on his fingers so tight he has to pull them out. Taking his hands to strum your pussy to keep you squirting, your thighs shake with such a force you have no choice but to cling onto him for dear life. A wave of pleasure hits you so intense your entire body electrifies like static off an old box TV across your chest and shoulders. His fingers are pruney once he lets go, all gooed up and coated with sticky globs of your cum.

Wiping his fingers clean on your thigh, he effortlessly guides your soaked pussy all the way down his dick, and a sweet moan comes up your throat once you’re fully seated. You’re so damn wet you can’t even feel the condom anymore, if it was any darker in here you wouldn’t even be able to tell he had one on.

“Bet that rose can’t do it like me, huh?” He teases, two hands at your waist rocking you forward. “I got you making a mess. Wetting the bed all up...”

“Heh— please shut up…” You laugh, catching your breath. Because of course he’d make a joke eight inches deep in your pussy. No matter how good his dick is it’ll never take away from how corny he can be sometimes.

Regaining your strength, your hands find his shoulders again to steady yourself as you begin a slow pace bouncing on his dick. It starts off a lot sweeter this time, nothing like your usual. No creaking bed or pounding headboard, just the quiet sound of your soft moans and his low grunts filling the room. 

You’re fully lost in the moment when his hips start to move in perfect sync with yours, the delicious drag of his dick massaging your walls coaxes the softest, neediest whimpers past your lips. You’re so in love with his dick, you’re serious when you say you’ll fuck him up if you ever find out he’s sharing, because this shit right here makes no sense. It’s too damn good!

“More…right there…” You whine, needing to feel him deeper. Gripping your ass in response he presses his heels into the mattress, pulling your hips closer towards him to fuck up into you so well you have to put a hand to his chest to hold him back. 

You totally get the need for the condom now— thankful for it even— because with the way he’s fucking you this damn good you don’t think he could push you off quick enough before he’s busting his load. And as bad as you want it, you’d hate to dip into that hundred dollars he gave you to spend half of it on a Plan B. 

“Toru...Toru...Toru.." His name spills from your lips over and over as your brain goes fuzzy, slipping into a dizzy, dick drunken state. He's gripping you up just so right, and every stroke to your g-spot has you coming further undone, scattering every thought in your head until there's nothing left but his voice and touch occupying your mind. 

“You’re so fucking pretty baby…didn’t I say I’d fuck you everyday? Hmm?” His voice rings. 

“Thursday…Friday…Saturday…Sunday…” He murmurs, each day punctuated by a slow, deliberate thrust in sync with the roll of your hips. “You love this dick, don’t you?” He breathes, his hand coming down heavy giving a sharp slap against your ass. 

“I do…” You whine, almost like a declaration, as you pull his hands off your waist to guide them up your chest to cup your boobs, lacing your fingers through his to show him how to squeeze them just right. 

You feel so incredibly fucking sexy bouncing on his dick, riding him like it’s been a while and you miss him. You’re trying your hardest to keep it classy for him, but with one more slap to your ass, you’ll be begging him to take the safety off and hit your pussy raw from the side till it goes numb. You hope he’s loving this shit, because you’re not letting him get up in you for at least a week after this one. Your coochie needs a break!

“I wanna cum…” You whine, searching his face for permission, but he doesn’t hear you, too focused on working his own nut out.  

“I wanna cum…” You whine again, your hands come down to press against his chest to grind your pussy down hard on his dick. You got him buried so deep inside you the weight of your hips are holding down his. 

“You tryna be done already?” His hips still, falling flat as he watches you chase your orgasm all on your own.  

“No. Just don’t move…” You plead, trying to keep him from messing up your rhythm as you hit that sweet spot like a drum. It doesn’t take long for that familiar heat to rise up your body, making your face flush hot and your heart rate pick up. You’re almost there! 

“Don’t move— don't move— I’m close…fuck…ahh” You babble out, toes curling. Almost there, you’re almost there!

“Damn boo…” The pet name rolls off his tongue effortlessly, bringing you into focus, your eyes meeting his right as he wraps a firm hand around your neck holding you in place. You got him pussy drunk acting rough and nasty just how you like it.  “When you start taking dick like this? You showing off for me today?” 

“Mmmm— fuck me after I cum…” You say through a smile, his thumb brushing gently underneath your chin. The look in your eyes clear— you’re trying to get broken off like a Kit-Kat. You want it rough, and you know he’ll deliver. He’s got you. 

“Say that again?” He asks as if he can’t understand a word you’re saying. There’s no denying that your voice turns him on. But it’s cool, you have no problem spelling it out for him. 

“I said I want you to fuck the shit out of me after I c— ahmp!” You yelp, a wave of giddy pleasure washing over you from the sting of his heavy hand landing across your ass again.  

“One more time for me?” He pulls you forward, a devilish look in his eyes waiting for you to soften into submission in his hands. 

“I want you to fuck me so bad.” You whine, voice dripping with so much need. You don't give a fuck how you sound right now, his dick drilling your pussy deep, it’s thick head messaging against your puffy walls. “I wanna feel all of it— oowww— mmmm— Fuck! You feel so fuckin— ahh good!—” You moan out, each and every one of his deep strokes punching the words from out of your chest.   

“You don’t want it.” He taunts, a smirk tugging at his lips daring you to prove him wrong— to show him just how badly you want it— to beg. The sudden shift in dominance sends your heart racing, and you find yourself rocking your hips even faster.

It’s this dynamic that you love the most: how one minute he’s soft and tender, talking you through with the filthiest yet gentlest whispers, and the next, commanding and rude, giving you the space to surrender completely and embrace your submissive side. It’s the perfect balance of give and take, and with him talking in your ear nasty like this, you’re more than willing to give it all up and let him lead. 

“Yes I do— fuck…fuck…” You moan breathlessly, lost in the wave of pleasure taking you under. “Make me cum…” You look down at him with those needy doll eyes, the kind that silently beg for more, even as you roll your hips slow and deliberate like the little minx you are, teasing him just enough that you know will drive him wild. 

Every move is a silent challenge, a tease, a true test of his strength and you’re doing it because you know exactly what he wants, and he’s already right there ready to meet you. His hands find your waist again, gripping you firmly, and that awaiting spark of dominance lights up his eyes as he pulls you in close.

No one but him can bring this side out of you, the one that craves to be taken, to be pushed to the edge. You know he’s been holding back, waiting for you to push him there, and now, you’ve done it. His hand then tightens around your frame, the tension in his body radiating through every inch of him, and that tells you everything you need to know; you’ve got him right where you want him, you can let go. 

“You not gonna run?” He presses, but you know your answer is meaningless. He wouldn’t let you even if you tried. 

“No—” You whine, the sound barely escaping your throat as you bounce, the strain in your knees starting to intensify with each movement as you chase your orgasm. 

“No, what?”  Another good grab to your ass, this time with two hands and enough grip to bounce you on his dick himself, fucking up into with a force that causes you to fall forward, nails digging into his shoulders as you cling onto him. “Tell me baby…go ‘head.”

“Fuck…Gojo— Go— AHMP!” Another heavy slap to your ass before you can catch your breath to repeat it. “I’m not gonna run Gojo— I'm not gonna run—”

“You know I love hearing you say it…” He beathes heavy, one hand now threading through your hair to grip your tresses tight, the other fucking you down his dick. “You gonna cum on this dick? Yeah?”

“Yes! Fuck— Fuck— Gojo! Gojo!” You choke out, orgasm fully taking over each and every one of your senses. 

“Again baby…come on…this your dick right…” He breathes, voice low and hot in your ear, hips bucking up fast as another heavy slap comes down to your ass. “Don't run from it…don’t run from it.”

“Fucckkkk— Oh my godddddd! Keep going! Keep going! Don’t stop! Yes! Yes!” You cry out, your pussy clenching so tightly around him that you can feel the rim of the condom scratching against your entrance. The intensity of your grip threatens to pull it loose as it’s already slipped off some. 

“Mmmmm— there you gooo~“ He coos, sensing you reached your climax seeing the way your jaw goes slack and your grip around him tightens. 

“Fuck me! Fuck me! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” You’re begging like slut now throwing your arms around him to tuck behind his neck. Feeling you lose yourself, you take your fingers to work them up to brush along his undercut, anything to try and keep you grounded.

“Kiss on my neck…yeah…just like that for me— “ He moans, as you press your lips against his skin, licking hungry, wet, and sloppy. “Just like that…”

“Where you want me to nut?” His question meets your ear with urgency, the pace of his thrusts quickening in such a way that you can tell he’s close to cumming.

“Anywhere…I don’t care—” You gasp, words spilling, your body trembling with anticipation. Stupidest fucking question he could ask right now. He can bust it on your tits, ass, pussy, or even your face. You don’t care as long as his hot cum drips off your body, ready for him to scoop up and feed to you like you’re Suki.

“Shit!— Get up! Get up!” He groans, lifting you up just enough to pull off the condom to jerk his dick. 

“Gimme your hand…” He takes yours to grab his length, wrapping his large hand around yours, guiding you as you both help work his nut out. Both of your bodies are hot and sweaty, and his heavy breathing is perfectly in sync with yours. Your thighs coming down from a trembling mess.

“Like that baby….mmmm…you gonna kiss it when you're done?” He hums through a smile, head thrown back in pure bliss. It doesn’t take more than a few tight strokes for you to feel his dick pulsate, his hot cum spills out running down both your knuckles sticking your fingers together. 

“Oowww— it's so much!” You giggle, endorphins still having you feeling like you're on cloud nine as you watch amazed by the amount of cum he’s spilling, feeling a warm milky streak run sticky down the back of your hand. 

“Fuck—” He exhales, chest heaving as he starts to come down from his climax. His arms drop limply to his sides, but you stay right where you’re sitting on his chest, reaching back as you keep working the cum out of his still hard dick. 

You can feel him twitch with every pull as you coax the last drops of cum from him. There’s just something so sexy about the way his breath stutters and his toes crack as they curl with each slow tug…like you’re draining him of every ounce of cum he has left.

“That’s it…baby…that’s it…alright that’s it…stop…” He warns, voice strained and his face balling up, eyes shut tight as he tries to fight back a guttural moan. You feel his abs tense up underneath you, throwing off your balance but you take a hand to his chest— now flushed red and glistening with sweat— to hold him steady, fist tightening around his dick to jerk him quicker. 

“Uh-uh, there’s more, look…lemme get it all out for you.” You tease with a playful laugh, tightening your hold around him. “Just relax, it doesn’t hurt.” You purr, your voice dropping low and sweet. More cum spilling with every pull. 

“Oh my g— Yooooo! Stop! Stop! Stop! Bro! Stop!” He gasps, body jerking involuntarily from not being used to the overstimulation. His hips shake under your grip as if trying to escape, but he’s trapped under the weight you’re pressing down on him.

“Bro!? I’m not your bro!” You scoff with a laugh, shaking your head in disbelief at the fucking nerve to address you by anything other than something ladylike! Goofy ass, now you’re really not letting up. He must have you confused for someone else. 

“I swear to god,  if you make me nut again— Fuck!” He growls, head tipping back as he wraps a tight hand around your wrist trying to stop you.

“Satoru, you don’t scare me— let go!” You mock, your hand steadily working his dick, grip unwavering even as his strength weakens less and less from every stroke.

“What happened to all that shit you were talking, hmm?” You pause, watching him closely. “Bet that hand can’t do it like mine?” 

“I’ma fuck you up after this…I’m so serious…watch.” He breathes out, a shaky laugh breaking through, his grip on your wrist loosens completely as he gives in, letting you milk him for everything he’s got. He’s probably dead serious too, but the way his fine ass is squirming under you is too entertaining to give a damn. And to be honest, that just sounds like a promise for round two and that’s not striking fear in your heart— or pussy. Ain't no fun when the rabbits got the gun now is it? We can go till the fucking bed breaks boo, y’all got all the time in the world today!

“Schhhhhoooowwww— oh my god!” He groans, his plump lips parting with a low, desperate growl. “Alright c’mon, chill! Stop!” 

“Keep lying telling people I snore, and I’ma tell your friends you moan like a bitch." You taunt, leaning closer. Pressing more of your weight down on him, your strokes turn into slow teasing massages around the tip of his dick with your palm. 

“You still mad over that?” His eyes open meeting yours as his hands grip the sheets in an attempt to hold back from cumming. He can try to look intimidating with those blue eyes all he wants, but they aren’t moving you.

“I don’t get mad, I get even.” You bite back with a whole lot of sass, letting his dick go the moment you feel your hand start to cramp up. He jerks slightly, caught off guard by your sudden release. “Told you to stop trying me.”

“Clean yourself up~” You shoot him a look, wiping your cum-sticky hand off his chest as you ease yourself off his body and slide off the bed.

“Fuck you…” You hear him mumble under his breath with a laugh as you search the sheets for your phone, panties, and top before making your way to the bathroom to pee.

“What!?” You give him a look back, the fakest mean scowl you can muster up right now. 

“Nothing— Fuck…” The back of his head hits the pillow again as he exhales deeply. 

"Oh, okay! Like I won’t sit my ass on your chest and kill you. Talk to me nice." You fire back playfully, slipping on your top after giving up on the search for your panties— probably somewhere tangled up in the sheets.

Finding your footing, you cross the room to unplug the diffuser you left on throughout the night. With a gentle click, its light shuts off. You take a moment to gather yourself before stepping out and closing the door firmly behind you, leaving him to figure out what the hell just happened. You too are going to need a few minutes alone to yourself after this one. 

[help-itrappedmyself]

Liminal Jason part 3

For those of you that saw the blip earlier, when I tried to post this but it broke cause it was too long, here is the real thing. Masterpost for earlier parts.

Sorry again. And slight tw for panic attack

Jason woke up slowly, taking in his surroundings as he adjusted to being awake. It was quiet, and a little humid. He was on a bed, could feel the sheets beneath him, and he wasn’t restrained at all. There was a moment of confusion, because when you wake up after being attacked like that you usually end up dead or a hostage. There was a creeping realization dawning in the back of his mind. He didn’t want to acknowledge it. He opened his eyes, not wanting his suspicions to be true. But he was in a holding cell in the cave, and he realized what must have happened. Then he was pissed. 

He let out a growl, pushing to sit up on the bed. He thought they were doing better. He thought his family trusted him again. His growl was angry, foreboding, telling of the danger and anger in his thoughts. But his head was pounding from the sedative. They knew he hated needles. Hated drugs. Why would they do this to him, trick him like this when they knew how he felt about it. The haze in his head, making his thoughts heavy, and doing nothing but reminding him of all the harm drugs have done to the people around him. He stopped growling, hoping the quiet would help. Much less angry, the clouds in his head starting to make him sad and breathless. He hopes the effects wear off soon. He can’t focus. There is something important that he is missing. He is forgetting something, the spiral of his thoughts and emotions starting to lean towards hysteria. He’s alone. Trapped and alone, mind heavy with fog. He can’t think, why is he stuck here? His breath starts coming faster, increasing while his heart starts to race. He tries to keep quiet, and calm down. A whimper escapes him as he finds a corner and slides down the wall. Then he heard a keen. Close, probably coming from one of the other cells. The sound cuts through the haze. Important, a strike of clarity hitting him with a pulse as he remembers the kid. There was a kid with him. 

Danny. Jason hears him call out again, a sharp keen of panic-confusion, and Jason needs to help him. Jason stumbles up, leaning on the wall for support. He heads towards the door, but he was familiar with how the cells worked. He reached it and of course it was locked. He attempted to manually override, but the pad inside the cell was locked down. The cell can only be opened once someone on the inside clears whoever is inside it. Created for instances where one of them has been incapacitated by a new strain of fear gas, or a new Ivy concoction. To hold someone until an antidote can be created. There was no getting out of here before the other came by. 

Hopefully, they’re on their way now, seeing him awake on the cameras. Jason has some choice words to be had about his situation, angry seething inside him as the panic from earlier recedes. 

Danny lets out another keen, breathy and biting and Jason hears him start to panic. Jason still has to do what he can. He can’t reach him, but he can try and calm him down. They’re in this together, and Jason is going to do whatever he can for the kid. He let out a rumble, steady and calm in response to Danny’s cries. His rumble is filled with annoyance, but still said okay-here-safe. 

Danny is silent for a moment before he hums back a confused-trust. It’s closer, louder, like Danny has moved to be right on the other side of the wall from Jason. This kid, who just had his world destroyed, came here alone and afraid, and he trusts Jason. Screw yelling at the Bats. Danny needs him, and priority one is getting Danny to a place he can feel safe. 

A soft churring sound leaves Jason, sweet and caring, and Jason hopes the kid knows that he is going to do everything he can for him. Then Jason hears Danny let out a short purr, a quiet susurration, that ends as quickly as it starts. Jason is stunned by how much faith Danny is putting in him. How much Jason cares for this boy he just met. 

The bats can pry this boy out from his cold, dead hands.

[rafeskiss]

juno ! ᥫ᭡

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader

word count: 980

summary: boat days with rafey make you so fucking horny<333 based on the song ‘juno’ by sabrina carpenter

warnings: no actual smut, use of y/n, mentions of pregnancy, alcohol, probably more i dont fucking know

authors note: IM BAAAACK! bringing back the short n’ sweet inspired rafe fics

boat days with rafe were your favorite days. you didn’t have to be sexual with rafe to have fun together, and you guys had your own way of showing appreciation— which, of course, included sex some days, but you also just got each other.

your love for each other was showcased best on the druthers on hot and sticky summer afternoons. you’d be tanning and feel a lack of warmth for a second, opening your eyes to see rafe towering over you, blocking the sun. a fruity seltzer in his hand, he’d hand it to you and you’d continue tanning. you didn’t ever have to tell him what you were thinking, he just gets it.

or he’d let you apply sunscreen on him— this was a rarity. he claimed he didn’t care if he got burnt or not, and you’d always reply with something along the lines of ‘you will care when you get skin cancer in 20 years!’ so you’d stand on your tippy toes, rubbing the white substance on his face, chest, back, arms, and legs until you saw fit. this was also a perfect excuse to feel him up. you hated his father, ward, for giving him life-long daddy issues but this was one of the only times you’d thank him. God bless his dad’s genetics, because rafe cameron is one sight to see and feel under the north carolina heat. beads of sweat dotting his face and chest, small freckles appearing on his nose and how gorgeous he looked driving the boat.

today was one of those days; you in a tiny pink bikini and rafe looking particularly fuckable edible hot pretty. you watched as he steered the boat towards wherever the hell he was taking you, his grip on the steering wheel showing off his toned, muscular arms. you just about melted in your sun chair rafe layed out for you.

it was days like this where you seemed to be so in love you’d do just about anything for him. rafe was too busy steering the boat, leaving you alone in your thoughts as you soaked up the vitamin d. you often thought about your future with rafe, and rafe doesn’t talk about the future rarely ever, but you knew he’d want your touch for life. he hasn’t and probably won’t ever come out and directly say he wants to spend forever with you, but his words always allude to it.

you never take the things he says during sex seriously; he’s always grunting about putting a baby in you or telling you to never ever leave him— you wouldn’t dare— but you wonder if he really truly means it. however, this doesn’t stop you from hinting at the fact you would like this all to become a reality. he’d be picking you up to go to dinner and you’d do a little twirl, showing off your dress. he’d tell you you look great, just like always, and you’d be like ‘well, there’s actually one thing missing…’ rafe would grumble something like ‘fuck are you talkin’ bout, kid? you’re fully dressed.’ and you’d stick your left hand out to him, showing him your naked ring finger. ‘missing a rock right there.’ and he’d roll his eyes and tell you to get in the damn truck.

you hopped off the tanning chair and found your way to a mini fridge that’s always stocked with various drinks. you opted for a twisted tea and you grabbed rafe a beer. you giddily walked to find rafe who was standing by the steering wheel, one hand on it and the other glancing down at his phone.

“here ya go,” you smiled and handed him the glass bottle.

“thanks, baby.” he said while placing a kiss to your temple, turning his phone off.

you looked at his hands on the steering wheel, noticing the lack of a wedding ring on his hand. you frown, “looks so boring right here, right?” you look up at him, your finger pointing to his ring finger.

“can you just wait?” he scolded.

“i just think this day would be even more perfect with a mini us running around!” you declared, looking around the boat imagining a tiny rafe or a tiny you waddling all over.

he rolled his eyes and continued steering the boat.

“like, one of me is cute but two though?”

rafe laughed, “are you ovulating or something? holy shit,”

you smiled and planted a kiss on his cheek, “can’t help it.”

“jus’… gimme time, baby.” he muttered before taking a sip of his beer.

so maybe having a baby at 19 wasn’t the best idea. but there were far worse things you could be doing with your life! rafe has enough money to support you and the baby until the end of time, including your retail therapy and regular therapy, so what is so wrong with that?

“give me one good reason why we can’t have a baby right now.” you said, crossing your arms which only made rafe take this conversation less serious because his eyes were immediately drawn to your tits.

rafe smirked, “shit, i dunno. i will say, your tits would be massive with a little baby in you.”

you gasped, “so you do wanna have a baby!”

“never said that.” he sniffed.

rolling your eyes you said, “whatever. god forbid i want a future with you!” you stormed off leaving rafe behind you.

of course, rafe didn’t want to hurt your feelings so he apologized very thoroughly later. he made sure to tell you that he did want a future with you, but he wants you to enjoy your young adulthood before potentially wrecking your life and freedom by bringing a baby into the world. in response to this, you stuck your tongue out at him.

“see, who needs a fucking baby when we got you around?” he said teasingly.

TAGLIST (reply to my tag list post to be added)

@xcinnamonmalfoyx @neediestpuppy @ethanthequeefqueen @maybankslover @pankowblues @drewsphswife @wearemadeofstardust0

[bookishdreamer28]

𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙪𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩

✮⋆˙ Characters: 𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍, 𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓, 𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆, 𝑺𝒚𝒍𝒖𝒔

✮⋆˙ Angst to fluff

✮⋆˙ Warnings: A bit of cursing, scenes where the reader gets hurt but that's all

Aaaand I'm back with LADS content!! I missed writing sm but I mostly missed you guys ♡ I hope you're all healthy and happy! Hope you'll enjoy this one ^3^

ℝ𝕒𝕗𝕒𝕪𝕖𝕝

"Seriously Rafayel I'm telling you how I feel about this and you look like you don't even care!" You yelled.

"But I do! I really do Y/N, but maybe your insecurities are still clouding your mind, even after all this time of being together and showing you how much I love you" He walked towards the door and you felt a lump in your throat.

"Rafayel, why you always walk away whenever there's an issue between us? Weren't you theone saying that no matter what we're getting through everything together?"

"Say whatever you want but I'm done with this fight" Rafayel said and walked out of your house. You and Rafayel had a fight about something silly but for you it was something you couldn't just ignore. You tried to do some chores just so you can keep yourself distracted by what happened earlier, but your tears couldn't stop falling. You hated it. You hated fighting with Rafayel cause you knew he would never hurt purposely or do something that would bother without taking into consideration your feelings, but it was still hurtful when stupid things like these occurred.

Since you couldn't do anything else inside your house so you can get your mind off of the fight, you decided to take a walk and maybe buy some groceries. When you finished shopping, it was dark and you realized how stupid it was to go out alone and without your car. You took a deep breath and started walking back home as fast as you could.

But as you continued the way to your home, you heard weird noises coming from a scary, dark alley ar your right. Your pace increased, wanting to go back to your house and hoping that you'd find Rafayel there too. But something appeared behind you and without taking any step further, you fell down on the concrete because of the hard push it gave you. And when you realized it was a wanderer, you tried to stand up and run but the power it was using on you made you very weak.

"YOU DAMN FREAK! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!" You couldn't really process anything but one thing you recognized was Rafayels voice. You closed your eyes wanting to relax a little and ease the pain somehow, but strong arms carried your softly and hugged you in their embrace.

"Rafayel..."

"It's okay sweet girl I got you. I got you baby" He said almost breathlessly, feeling like he was going to break any moment now. He can't believe he just left from your home and then found in this condition. Once you arrived at your house, Rafayel did everything to take good care of you.

"Oh my baby. My girl" He muttered against your temple as he placed a kiss there. After everything, you were both lying on your bed, finding comfort and warmth in each other's arms.

"I'm so sorry sweet girl I-" Rafayel felt his eyes watering. "Can't believe I almost you from my stupidity" He huuged your body a bit tightly and you found yourself snuggling in his warmth.

"I'm ok my love I promise" Your hand was playing with his beautiful white hair softly and you kissed his lips.

"Please say it again" He whispered as he stared at you.

"My love"

"Oh how I love it when you call me that" He leaned his forehead on yours and stayed like this for a bit. "I love you" he kissed your lips "so so fucking much" but this time the kiss was more passionate. A kiss that held love and strong affection. A kiss that meant more than any word that could ever be said at the moment.

𝕏𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕣

You were laying on the couch, reading a book just so you can completely ignore the shuttering feeling you had inside you. You and Xavier fought again. It was a very exhausting week for both of you and all the tension made you feel suffocated, filled with many negative emotions, that you eventually took it all out on each other. You both understood the danger of your job and how hard things could be, but there were times you did not have the patience to deal with them calmly.

You turned your head around and looked at the now closed bedroom door. Xavier was in your room and you wanted nothing more than just give up with torturing silent treatment and hug each other. But even though you knew he was a bit too selfish to make the first move, you didn't want to back down either.

You angrily stood up from your position on the couch and went inside the kitchen so you can cook something. The fight and the way things have been lately, made you lost your appetite easily and you can't remember when was the last time you had a proper meal full of nourishment. So, as you stood on your tippy toes to grab a ball from the higher shelf, you felt a bit lightheaded and suddenly found your body hitting the hard, cold floor of the kitchen.

Rushing movements could be heard from inside your room and when rhe door bursted open, Xavier appeared in your vision.

"Y/N!" He yelled out your name and he was by your side in a second. He picked you up in his arms and carried you to your bed. He laid down with you and held you close.

"Baby wha- what the fuck happened?" He tried to remain calm but seeing laying on the floor almost unconscious was an image that haunted him. He felt like he was going to lose it.

"Xavier I- I just haven't been eating well lately and-"

"Why? Why did you do this baby?" He whispered and a few tears started dropping from his eyes. You shakily wiped them away.

"I'm okay now but I still need to eat and take a few vitamins to fully recover. That's all" Xavier let out a shaking breath and held you closer.

"You have no idea how scared I got. Losing you is my biggest fear baby. Damn it, that's why I've been like this lately. This fear is eating me alive, especially with what has been happening lately baby. And I'm sorry, I truly am my baby" He leaned his head to kiss your forehead.

"I'm sorry too Xavier." You smiled softly at him but then you giggled at something you thought. Xavier only smiled brightly cause seeing you happy can cure every dark or sad thought of his. You can make his day brighter than it was before.

"I just thought about how silly our fight was." You rested your head in his shoulder and closed your eyes for a brief moment, just to enjoy the warm his body radiated.

"Hm very silly indeed, just like you are sometimes" a playful smirk was displaying on his face as he watched your offended expression.

"Hey you're ruining our moment-"

"I mean what you were thinking when you decided to stop eating lovely girl?" He tapped softly on your nose and then kissed it. He slowly placed next him, grabbing your favorite soft blanket and laid it on top of your legs to keep you warm.

"Now stay here, I'll go cook you your fave. I'm not letting my lady starving any longer."

ℤ𝕒𝕪𝕟𝕖

"Y/N I'm really busy right now. I don't know if I have the time to go for dinner tonight." Zayne was busy checking some papers in his office, as he hurriedly tried to get ready for the next operation.

"Trust me, I understand but this is the 5th time in a row. I'm not asking to give up everything in the middle of your work, but all I want, is for you to make some time for me too." You said sternly, not wanting to lose it and start yelling just for the whole hospital to hwar you.

Zayne sighed and stood up from his seat and walked to the door ready to leave his office but you stopped him.

"Are even listening to me?" You asked angrily.

"I think it's better if you leave." He opened the door as he waited for you to go. All you did was stare at him in shock. Did he seriously thought of kicking you out instead of talking to you?

"Zayne what the fuck? You don't even get to talk to me for 15 minutes now!" Your hand reached over for the knob of the door to close it shut.

"If you keep pushing my buttons then no, I don't want you here" His cold voice sent shivers down your spine.

"Listen I-"

"Just go. Now. I already have a packed schedule and many problems in my mind, and I don't to add one more." You were sure you heard your heart breaking.

"So you think...I'm a problem now" you breathed out, feeling already defeated by the way he talked to you. This argument was pointless, you knew it but all the exhaustion, the pain and the bad emotional state you were currently in, made you feel like you didn't exist to him anymore.

Zayne looked like he wanted to take these horrible words back, hug you like his whole life dependent on it but he wasn't sure how to react.

Without spare even one glance at him, you left his office with rushing steps, and as he heard your faint sobs in the empty hallway, his heart broke even more.

---

A knock on Zayne's office door interrupted his thoughts. "Come in." He said with a stern voice.

"Dr. Zayne you are needed in the room 8." A nurse appeared in his office. Zayne frowned .

"What happened?" He asked in a slightly worried tone.

"There's a patient right here in the room, with really bad injuries after she experienced a dangerous accident. She's fully conscious of her surroundings but her physical condition has to be under observation for now. I amde sure that of course she was taken care of first before you could come to check on her too...but she was desperately asking for you doctor." The nurse said as she opened the door to the room where the said patient was.

What Zayne though made his breath caught in his throat and he felt like lefs was about give up. He shut the door without letting anyone in and turned his attention back on you. With shaking legs he walked towards you.

"My...my love what...are you ok?!" He cradled your face softly his hands. His breath quickened and his heart beated faster, scared at the thought of almost losing you. When you didn't said anything it made him worry more, but once you let your head rest on his shoulders and your arms qrapped around his neck, he sighed in relief. His arms wrapped around your small form, hugging tight enough, without hurting anywhere.

"Zayne...I don't know what to say. When this happened my first thought was you and how we departed without saying an I love you or share a sweet kiss like we always do and- I got so scared that I wouldn't see you again." Your trembling voice made Zayne's eyes glassy, tears threatening to fall. He shook his head and your face in his hands again, wanting to make eye contact.

"I will never let anything happen to you my love. Never. I'm so sorry for the way I spoke to you and the days I spent away from your warmth and comfort. Your my home sweetheart, and I want to able to spend every second with you, just the two of us away from everything and everyone. I promise I will not let work stop me from giving you my unconditional love. I truly, love you so much."

𝕊𝕪𝕝𝕦𝕤

"I'm sking you for the last time Sylus, what the fuck aee you hiding?" Your voice was hoarse from the yelling. Sylus clenched his jaw and tried to clam his own nerves.

"For the last time, I'm not hiding anything. You shouldn't worry about my job because everything's under control."

"That's what you said last time and remember what happened? Let me remind you, we got threatening messages out of nowhere. So please, tell me what you have gotten into?" You sat on the chair opposite of him as you waited nervously for what he had to say.

"Im not discussing business things with you, kitten." His voice darkened and he sounded more serious than usual. His teasing tone was gone and you knew his patience was running thin.

"I'm sick of this." You murmured.

"Sick of what exactly?" His stare was hard on you.

"Sick of always leaving me out of everything, when we both promised that we would always be there for each other and get through every hardship together." Your voice was laced with emotion and Sylus's cold facade almost broke and he was about to reach your side when Luke and Kieran came into his office.

"Boss we have to go. It's the emergency we talked about." Luke hurriedly told Sylus. Sylus prepared and was about to leave his office when your voice stopped him.

"Sylus what is this emergency their talking about?" You stood up frkm your chair and walked to him. Luke and Kieran looked at each other awkwardly and decided to leave the office to give you space.

"Kitten don't start this now-"

"Do you even let me finish?! I knew your were being secretive" You scoffed.

Sylus only stared at you intensely. You waited. Waited him to say something. But you only watched as he truned his back on you, leaving you all alone again.

---

You were currently laying on your bed, ready to fall asleep since you got too tired of waiting for Sylus's return. But you your eyes started closing you heard something breaking your room's window and immediately stood back up. Two dark figures was the only thing you could make out in the darkness and before you could grab your phone and run out of the room, one of them slapped you hard and you fell on the floor.

"Well if it isn't Sylus's new toy. This is going to be fun. For us." He laughed and his fist found your face.

---

Your body was cold, in pain and your were sure you couldn't feel your legs or hands moving. You groaned as you tried to turn on your side but a stabbing pain made you let out gasp and laid on your back again.

Your heard heavy footsteps downstairs and you almost started sobbing, fearing that they may have come back. The footsteps stopped suddenly, but then you could hear them running towards your room. When Sylus came into your sight, you sobbed and called for him.

"FUCK!" Sylus said loudly and laid next to you in an instant.

"Baby? Can you hear me? I'm here, see? I'm here" He frantically tried to lift you in his arms and held you close to him. "I'm here. I'm here. You're ok." He said like he tried to reassure his himself that he wouldn't lose you.

Luke and Kieran heard the fuss and came to see what happened, and when they saw in what state you were in, they both got shocked.

"Wha-what happened boss?!" Kieran said worriedly. Sylus didn't say anything. His focus only on you, as he laid you on the bed carefully.

"Sy..." His hand grasped yours and kissed it.

"I'm here. I'm here." He placed a kiss on your head and turned to look at his assistants.

"Go bring the medkit. NOW!" He didn't mean to scream but his mind was a mess. Seeing you on the floor, bloody beated and almost unconscious made him want to go out there burn everything down.

And that's what he was going to do. When Kieran ans Luke returned with the medkit, Sylus took care pf your injuries, as his assistants made sure to bring some painkillers, water and everything that was necessary for you to not being in pain.

"Sylus where-" you tried to reach for his hand but Sylus grabbed and kissed it softly as let it rest on your chest.

"I'll be back. I promise you baby. Just please, take some rest and I'll be laying right here. Next to you." He whispered and kissed your lips before he left.

---

Your eyes moved and you slowly opened them, taking in your surroundings. You remembered everything. Your mind felt foggy, but your body wasn't in so much pain anymore and an arm was wrapped around your waist. You looked down and there was an arm around you. You looked behind and you found Sylus sleeping but having you caged in his big arms securely, fearing that he would you even in his sleep.

"Sy" you whispered and Sylus's eyes started opening slowly. When he noticed you were awake, his slumber left his body instantly and instead he sat up a little to take a better look at you.

"Sweetheart..." he wanted to say so many things. So many. But what truly mattered to him was that you were here by his side, safe.

Your arms were wrapped around his neck in a second. "Oh my sweet girl" Sylus kissed your cheek and held you. Held you like he had just found the most precious treasure in the world and he didn't want anyone or anything to take it wawy from him.

A sob left his lips.

No. He couldn't resist anymore. All the feelings he felt when he found you laying on the floor came ro the surface. You cupped his face and rested your forehead on his.

"I'm ok. We're ok."

Sylus looked at you with watery eyes, not being afraid anymore to let himself feel, cry, laugh and love. With everything felt natural.

"I love you."

You didn't care about the fights you had, the words that were spoken on heated moments when your minds are clouded with pressure and fear. Cause at the end of the day, you'd still find safety and love in each other's embraces and that's all that matters.

[whaleofatjme1920]

Creepypasta/Marble Hornets X Reader with A Small/Flat Chested F!Reader

[Warnings: NSFT/smut, size kink mention, praise, body worship, breeding kink, MINORS DNI]

[AN: sometimes I find you guys out in the wild (and what’s crazier is I get recognized sometimes??) and I go :0 in a good way!! Anyways here’s this lol. Made it while drinking canned bubble tea. Enjoy, for all my small titty goddesses]

Reblogs are appreciated!!

Jeff the Killer

Gods he’s so feral about small tits. And I mean FERAL. He has no eyelids so of course he’s going to stare. Loves seeing your nipples, clothed or not. Prefers when you don’t wear a bra in colder weather just so he can gawk at you and how they perk up.

He’s always cupping and rubbing them. When he’s able, he’s sucking on them. The way he loved your tits is raunchy and wild. Always making lewd comments about how hot you are how he loves how well you fit in his hands, how your skin is so soft and you squish just right for him.

Jeff obviously loves all parts of you, but whenever he sees you wearing a top that’s a little too thin and a little too tight and he can see the outline of your breasts, he finds himself drooling. He can TRY to be professional but good luck, his gaze always gives it away.

His kind of love for you is aggressive and possessive. If you EVER show any doubts, he’ll take offense. “Who the fuck are you to question my good fucking taste?” He doesn’t like you doubting him because how dare you? He sees your beauty, both inside and out, so why can’t you?

He’s going to show you off every chance he gets. Comes with the territory of dating him lol. He loves when people look at you but can’t touch, because you belong to him and him alone. No one else, just his. He doesn’t want to treat you like an object! You aren’t, but gods you have a gifts in your life and one is your body, don’t be shy. All that said, he loves you, truly and genuinely. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

Eyeless Jack

Size kink. Huge. Huge size kink. He loves that he’s so much bigger than you in every way possible, and something about your tits fitting into his large hands, engulfed by his clawed palm make him melt. He purrs whenever he sees you changing and you let him lovingly gaze upon your body.

I’ve always felt Jack is into art, and sketches a lot in his free time. His art is mostly based on his medical knowledge, studying anatomy and whatnot, but he draws your breasts any chance he can get. And it’s not always in a sexualized way, but a very artistic focus. You, slowly waking up and gazing out the window, a warm drink in your hands as the sheets cascade over your body… and you’re nude.

He loves you without clothes on. With clothes on, however? If you wear any necklaces or whatnot, he melts because he thinks they fall between your breasts so elegantly. Everything about you is perfect to him.

Jack goes through heats, of course, and when he goes through them, he spends special attention on your tits. Lots of bite marks, especially when he’s sucking on your perfect nipples.

He’s got a habit of sitting you down on his lap while he’s doing work and playing with your breasts like a stress toy. Or just,,, playing with them because he can. Your body is his and his alone. He says you’re perfect to him, so you better believe it. If not, don’t worry, Jack is surprisingly good at talking through more sensitive topics without overriding your feelings. He’ll always take care of you.

Tobias Rogers

He’s just like Jeff in terms of being raunchy. He prefers you to wear skimpier, form fitting clothes just to show your body off to the world. When he’s out in public with you, he likes you to be the candy on his arm. Thinks you’re drop dead gorgeous, and the way your tits sit on your chest contribute a great deal to that.

If you have nipple piercings? Lord help you, Toby can’t keep himself off of you. Not even when he tries, he’s just so into you. The moment you take your shirt off and show them to him, he’s drooling and fucking you into the floor, folding you like a lawn chair so he can watch your breasts bounce a bit as he drives you into the floor.

Toby doesn’t actually like the necklaces too much. Not the long ones. Not only do they get in the way of sex, but he likes chokers and shorter chains better. He’s kinda particular like that. Sometimes, he’ll playfully complain whenever you wear baggier clothes and hoodies (he never means it, he wants you to be comfortable).

Toby is also a huge fan of you not wearing a bra so he can gawk at you. But!! If you do fancy wearing bras, he’s especially into the cute ones that are clearly meant for adult activity. Seeing you in lingerie makes his caveman brain warp into hyperdrive.

He does understand the shadowy sides of you though. He’s dealt with body image issues himself, specifically his face. But, he’s grown confident in who he is. He won’t ever push toxic positivity on you, but he won’t let you say awful things about yourself. He says it hurts his feelings, because how could you talk so poorly about yourself when he loves you so deeply? It actually messes him up.

Masky/Tim Wright

Masky loves you so boldly. Your body really sparks some protective nature or something in his head. When he first saw your breasts once your clothes came off, all he could think about was how sweet you must taste and how soft you must be to squeeze. He wants you all to himself, your body is his to enjoy as much as he is yours to enjoy. It’s usually him somehow giving pep talks, but he’s an aggressive supporter. Loves you, refuses to let you speak like that about yourself.

Tim however, Tim is a little cuter about it. Make no mistake, he’s still a pervert but it’s sweeter, somehow. Tim loves to worship every bit of you, showing attention to your breasts because they’re his favorite part of you. He finds himself staring, blushes and tries to shake himself back into focus but can’t. Really, he can be such a nerd at times. Doesn’t mean to, but look at him. Look at him and tell me he isn’t.

There’s hickies all over your body when he’s done with you. Hickies all over your breasts and sometimes, he’ll form them in a heart because that’s cute. His large, calloused hands love how soft and small you are as he squeezes and cups. LOVES to fuck in positions that let him see your breasts, as that’s what he’s focused on outside of the way your eyes roll upwards when he pushes in extra deep.

He LOVES seeing you all dressed up but also really loves whenever you’re all comfortable. Either way, he’ll make cheesy jokes like “your clothes look better in my floor ;)” so be prepared for a lot of cheesy, horny jokes. Or if you say “my eyes are up here??” He’ll keep honing in on your tits. That’s just the kind of man he is.

Some of his favorite moments with you are the kinds where you’re all curled up in bed together, spooning and his hands are able to roam your body. He often falls asleep holding your breasts, hand spread out over them and squeezing you to his chest like you’re his squishy toy. He often falls asleep better this way! If you’re not in the mood to be bear hugged to sleep, he’ll still keep a hand resting on your chest or hips somehow.

Hoodie/Brian Thomas

Hoodie is a very silent, down to business kind of proxy. Deeply cocky and self assured, maybe a bit too hot headed. When it comes to you, he knows his taste and what he’d choose and he chose well. Whenever he sees you all dolled up, he’ll bend you over just to have his way with you before you have to go. Hoodie’s gloved hand squeeze at your tits every chance he gets before he pulls them off so his fingers can play with your nipples with no barrier in between.

Brian’s a southern gentleman. This does not apply to how he worships your body. He’s FERAL for your body and will try to get you pregnant any chance he can. There’s times you’ll come out of the shower and drop the towel, he sees your nipples, the curve of your breasts, and he’s on you, mating press, trying to get you pregnant. He can’t help himself when you look that sexy.

He’s also really fond of holding your breasts in any way he can. Makes him happy just to touch you. Cuddle? Grab titty. Doing anything on the computer? Grab titty. Has no restraint, and in the safety of your home? He doesn’t care (unless you’re overstimulated or don’t want to, of course). He’s HUGE on physical touch. Everything from your ass, your thighs, your arms, titties, everything.

Also really weak for lingerie. Wearing something sexy and lacy, maybe has his name on the waist band and he’ll fold for you. He’s really, really fond of the bras that let him have access to your nipples. He’ll squeeze your breasts as he bends your legs upwards, then press chest to chest with you to feel your heartbeat as your soft breasts bounce against him. He’s weak.

Maybe it’s just the vibe I get, but he somehow manages to make you feel really at peace with yourself, and if you aren’t, then he’s always there to let you vent and reassure you that he loves you and PREFERS YOU the way you are! Nothing about you needs to change or be bigger. He prefers your body the way you are now, and by the way he’s always staring? You’ve never a reason to doubt him.

Bonus Kate the Chaser!

She’s no better than a man with the way she stares at your tits. She’s pretty muscular and I write her as really tall now, so she LOVES how your titties fit in her hands. There are moments she will squeeze with her hands and then press her face into them, not caring if she suffocates. Kate stares so boldly. And then when she’s eating you out, her tongue buried deep in your pussy, all she can focus on is how beautiful you look. Your chest is rising and falling and your nipples are hard, and when you’re on your back she can see the little shivers. If you’re riding her face, she’s melting at the curve of your breasts, the gentle slopes that make them, and making little grabby hands to reach and play with them. When is she not playing with your breasts? Kate sometimes wears lipstick (a rarity) and covers your breasts in her kisses just to reaffirm to you how beautiful you are and how much she loves this part of your body. Make no mistake, she’s still lining your body with hickies and bite marks, but your neck, collar and titties especially. She can probably cum from just seeing you.

[weemssapphic]

Lipstick Stains - Pt. 26

previous chapter | series page

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

words: ~ 4.7k | ao3 link in title

A/N: after a little over a year and a half, we've reached the end of this fic - never did I ever think that that smutty one shot would turn into 26 chapters and over 90k words. thank you, deeply, for everyone who has stuck around til the very end, even when it sometimes took me ages to update. thank you to everyone who commented, sent me asks, inspired me to keep writing. I felt this was the most authentic way to end the fic - I hope you like it! and let me know if you want to see more of these two 🥰

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You could sense Larissa tensing up beside you at the sound of the voice, her eyes widening as they fixated on the doorway behind you. Turning in confusion, your eyes landed on a woman clad all in black, with long dark hair and a sultry air about her. Though you’d never seen this woman before in your life, between her sense of style and Larissa’s reaction it wasn’t hard to deduce that you were now face-to-face with Morticia Addams. Your grip on Larissa’s hand tightened, your knuckles turning white. 

Morticia began to glide towards the bed with unparalleled elegance, stopping only when she seemed to finally register your presence by Larissa’s side. Her gaze drifted down to your intertwined hands, lingering there for what seemed to be half an eternity. Her expression went from confusion to interest and, finally, as she met your own (definitely hostile) gaze, shifted to understanding. 

“Wednesday told me you’d been seeing someone.” Morticia’s eyes were still on you, but her words were clearly directed at Larissa. “I assume this is her?”

“Y/N,” you said rather coldly, introducing yourself before Larissa could respond.

“It’s a pleasure,” Morticia replied, painted lips curling up into a smile that was as seductive as it appeared to be sincere. 

“I wish I could say the same,” you growled under your breath. Morticia clearly heard you, but her smile never faltered. 

“Darling…” Larissa whispered hoarsely, her voice cracking.

Morticia laughed, the sound melodic. “She’s feisty, I like her.” 

You scowled, wrinkling your nose.

“What are you doing here?” Larissa’s expression showed confusion and annoyance in equal measure, and she was clearly trying her best to speak powerfully and clearly, though her voice faltered on the last syllable. 

“Can’t I check on my best friend after she nearly dies?”

Larissa’s own grip on your hand tightened, and you squeezed back in a show of reassurance and solidarity. “We haven’t been best friends in decades.”

The smile dropped right off Morticia’s face and she crossed her arms, an uncomfortable silence shrouding the room. “I know,” she whispered finally. “And I know that’s mostly my fault. But when Wednesday told me what happened, I had to come see you.”

“Well, you’ve seen her,” you hissed. Morticia smiled a little sadly - she deserved it, you thought. You would never forget the way Larissa had spoken of the way Morticia had treated her, as though Larissa had meant nothing to her - as though Larissa wasn’t good enough for her. The memory alone made your blood boil, and you were certain your anger and contempt at Morticia were visible on your face.

“I’ve always cared about you, Larissa…” The way Larissa’s name rolled off Morticia’s tongue left a bitter taste in your mouth, and you bit your tongue in a desperate attempt not to snap at the dark-haired woman.

“You have a funny way of showing it,” Larissa croaked out.

“That may be true. But I do care all the same. I’m glad you’re recovering.”

You watched Larissa’s face carefully for her reaction - her emotions were at war with one another and she was, for once, too exhausted to try to mask it. She closed her eyes, leaning back against her pillows with a frown on her face, deep lines forming between her eyebrows.

“I appreciate you checking in on me,” Larissa said finally, sounding more resigned than anything as she attempted to remain diplomatic. She opened her eyes and pinned Morticia with a tired gaze. “I hope you’ll excuse me, I’d like to rest a bit more before I’m discharged tomorrow.”

It was an elegant way of kicking Morticia out, and the raven-haired woman seemed to have gotten the hint. She gave a curt nod and smiled graciously. “I’m sure our paths will cross again at Nevermore.”

Once she reached the doorway, Morticia turned back to face the two of you, looking at Larissa with a sort of soft fondness that you wouldn’t have expected from her. “She’ll take good care of you, this one.” Her gaze briefly flicked in your direction, not deterred by the frown on your face. Then she disappeared, closing the door gently behind her.

You turned back to Larissa to find her already watching you, her gaze soft and affectionate, her lips turned up into a smile that bordered on love-drunk - her expression so different than it had been with Morticia just moments ago. She laughed at the way you glowered at the door, her laugh turning into a slight cough.

“Don’t be jealous, darling…” she hummed shakily as her cough subsided.

“I’m not,” you said adamantly, though apparently not quite convincingly enough, for Larissa’s smile grew even wider. 

“There’s not a single alternate universe where Morticia and I are right for each other, where I’m not irrevocably in love with you.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you pressed your forehead to Larissa’s. “I love you,” you whispered. “I’m not jealous, I just hate the way that Morticia makes you feel. I want you to be happy…”

Larissa cupped both of your cheeks and tilted your head, until your lips were a hair’s breadth away from her own and her eyes had to dart back and forth to be able to meet yours. “I am happy,” she said adamantly. “You make me feel special.”

“You are special, Larissa.”

Larissa’s lips brushed against your own, the kiss soft and tender. You had little privacy in the hospital room, but still you could feel every ounce of love Larissa had for you in the way that she kissed you, and you smiled against her lips.

~~~

“Darling?” Larissa asked somewhat hesitantly that evening, as you’d just come back into the room from going to the restroom. She wrung her hands in her lap and her mouth was turned into an apologetic frown, and you cocked your head to the side as you perched yourself at her bedside.

“Yeah? What’s wrong?”

“I’ve just realized I don’t have my car here. Would you be able to drive me back to Nevermore when I’m discharged in the morning?”

Your brows knit together in confusion - you’d already assumed that’s what you’d be doing. “Of course. I asked Cass to drop my car off here tonight, I left it at Nevermore.”

Larissa seemed taken by surprise at the matter-of-factness in your tone. Her lips curled into a tiny smile, though her brow was still furrowed. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Larissa…” You bit the inside of your cheek as you considered your words carefully. “Have you thought about how you’re going to get by when you’re back at Nevermore? I mean, you might need help or something for a few weeks, you know, getting around and things…”

Larissa stayed silent for a moment, clearly contemplating. “I should be fine.”

You frowned at her stubbornness. “Okay… let me word that differently… I know you can take care of yourself, but I would feel better if you let me help you. If you want me to, that is…”

“I don’t want to burden you, darling,” Larissa said softly, running a hand through your hair - the intimate gesture felt so nice, and you leaned into her touch. “You have other things going on, you should focus on your studies.” Her smile was warm and affectionate but her gaze was a little sad, and you took her hand in yours and placed a kiss to her knuckles.

“You’re not a burden, Larissa. I want to help you recover, that’s what I’m here for. The semester is almost over anyway, aside from exams I wouldn’t really have to drive to Burlington much until after the holidays.”

You could practically see the cogs turning in Larissa’s brain, her brow furrowed as her eyes darted between your own - no doubt looking for some miniscule hint of insincerity or hesitance in your own gaze, which she certainly wouldn’t find. “Would you… be alright with staying at Nevermore for a little while, then?”

Larissa sounded almost shy, and you grinned and adopted a playful tone. “Larissa Weems, are you asking me to move in with you?”

Larissa’s cheeks grew red and she wrinkled her nose at your teasing. “Only if you’d like to…” she said after a moment, her tone soft and gentle. “You know there’s enough room for both of us.”

A feeling of absolute giddiness bubbled up inside of you - the circumstances might’ve been less than ideal but, regardless, the idea of living with Larissa was enough to make you swoon. Waking up every morning to her beautiful face on the pillow beside you, burrowing into her arms each night - your definition of heaven on earth.

“You know I’m not going to say no to that.” Your grin was so wide that it smoothed out the crease between Larissa’s brows, and she pulled her hand from between yours to cup the back of your neck and tug you in for a kiss.

~~~

Both you and Larissa were awake early the morning she was discharged, both of you too excited and too nervous to sleep. You pottered about the hospital room, packing your belongings up and gathering the flowers and cards to bring out to the car, while Larissa ate her breakfast, complaining about the food between each bite.

“I could cook something? We have to pass by my place on the way back to Nevermore anyway, I’ll just raid the fridge.”

Larissa snorted. “I’m sure your friends will appreciate that.” 

“They’ll get over it,” you teased with a grin and a shrug. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to carry our stuff to the car.”

You filled your arms with as much as you could carry and brought everything out to your car, piling it in the trunk. It took you a while to navigate the halls of the hospital and when you finally returned to Larissa’s room, she looked frustrated and a bit down, playing with a bobby pin between her fingers, one singular curl pinned up against the back of her head.

“You okay?” you asked, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth as you approached her bedside.

“It hasn’t taken me this long to do my hair in over 30 years… holding my arms up is too tiring…”

“Can’t you shift?” You feared the answer, figuring if she could, she would - Larissa shook her head sadly.

“Too much effort to maintain.”

“Oh… what if I helped you?”

Larissa seemed a bit surprised at your suggestion, but her frown was quickly replaced with a soft smile and she scooted forward a bit so that you could crawl into her bed behind her and help her with her hair. She would separate her hair into sections and start to roll them up, stopping and letting you finish and pin them in place when her arms started to feel too heavy. After a moment’s rest, she would start on the next section, until each strand of hair was pinned up against her head. It took twice as long as it usually would have, and it looked more than amateurish, but it was better than nothing.

“How does it look from the back?” Larissa asked a little anxiously, and you laughed as you took a photo for her and handed her your phone.

“It could use some work, I’m sorry…”

Larissa chuckled, twisting around to cup your cheek and press her lips to yours. “It could be worse,” she murmured affectionately. 

“You just have to get to your office and then you can take it down again,” you said with a laugh, silently wishing you were better at this kind of thing and vowing to learn for Larissa.

“Thank you…” You could tell by the light in Larissa’s eyes and the blush on her cheeks how much your help meant to her, and you grinned as you pulled her in for a slightly deeper kiss.

Larissa insisted on wearing a bit of makeup, not wanting to be caught in the halls of Nevermore without her signature red lip - you traced her lipstick along her lip, your stomach filling with butterflies at the intimacy of the action. You helped her dress, letting her lean on you and doing up the zip on the back of her dress, then waited patiently for her to sign some paperwork.

After what felt like hours, Larissa was finally discharged and the two of you were in your car, on your way to stop by your apartment. In spite of everything that had happened, you felt a lightness that you hadn’t felt since that night at Nevermore. Larissa was sitting next to you, not in a hospital bed but in your car. Her hair was up and her lips were painted and she wore a dress, not a hospital gown, and she moved her lips to the lyrics of the song playing on the radio, and you seemed to realize all at once that she would be okay. 

~~~

Cass must’ve been waiting for you, because she was at your car window the second you pulled into your usual parking spot in front of your apartment. You rolled down the window and she crossed her arms and rested her forearms on the car, popping her head inside. 

“There’s no way you decided to tell us you were moving out over text?” she exclaimed, but her lips were pulled into a wide grin, making it clear she wasn’t upset. Still, you blushed and glanced at Larissa, who suppressed a smile and looked down at her own lap.

“I’m sorry,” you said with a nervous chuckle, and Cass rolled her eyes.

“Don’t be, it’s not like we didn’t see it coming.”

Now even Larissa’s cheeks were slowly turning pink, and you shooed Cass away so that you could open the door and slip out of the car. Larissa made to open her own door but you insisted she stay in the car - you’d only be a minute anyway, grabbing the most important things - you could always stop by later in the week for more of your belongings.

You made a beeline straight for your room, grabbing the most essential items - some clothes, your laptop, some stuff for uni, your toiletries. With some extra room in your bag, you tossed in a few trinkets, your favorite books, some more art supplies, then stopped by the kitchen to raid the groceries your roommates had no doubt recently bought. 

“You can’t stop by the store on your way through Jericho?” 

Pausing in your rummaging through the fridge, you glanced sheepishly over your shoulder at Robin, who leaned in the doorway with a faint smirk on her face. It was clear your friends were happier to see you back to your old self than they were annoyed at the suddenness of your plans.

“I promise I’ll send you guys money for this week’s groceries?” you tried, and Robin laughed. 

“Yeah, sure.” She paused, the smile slowly slipping off her face. “We’re gonna miss you, ya know?”

And wasn’t that strange to hear. After over two years of living together, it would certainly be weird to no longer call Robin, Cass, and Christin your roommates. You swallowed against the lump that had suddenly appeared in your throat, feeling oddly sentimental amid your excitement to live with Larissa.

“Who knows, I mean I might move back once Larissa’s recovered…” 

Robin laughed, letting out a snort and raising an eyebrow, her usual easy grin lighting up her features. “You really think so?”

“Well…” You could feel your own lips spread into a smile. “No, probably not.”

Pushing herself off the doorframe, Robin crossed the room and pulled you into a brief but tight hug. “Don’t forget about movie night on Sunday. Just because you don’t live here anymore, doesn’t mean you’re getting out of it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of missing it,” you chuckled, squeezing her tightly.

When you made it back out to your car with all your bags, Cass still had her head poked through the car window and was talking animatedly to Larissa. You shooed your best friend away from the car, then gave her a brief hug, promising to invite her over soon - she waited in the parking lot as you pulled out onto the street, her waving form shrinking in the rearview mirror until you rounded a corner and left her behind.

As you drove down the winding road through the dense forest separating Burlington from Jericho and, beyond that, from Nevermore, it slowly began to sink in that you had Larissa back. Finally, after weeks of anxiety, overthinking, worrying - finally - you were sitting side by side, driving down familiar roads, safe in the knowledge that everything was going to be alright.

“Cassandra was quite shocked that I recovered so quickly,” Larissa mused, her lips quirked into a half-smile as she stole a glance at you. “Actually, how did she put it? ‘I almost didn’t think you’d make it.’”

You cringed at your former roommate’s bluntness. “Ouch… sorry about her, I know she didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

“I know… you haven’t told her that I’m a shapeshifter, have you?”

“No.” You shook your head. You expected Larissa to continue speaking, but a silence enveloped the car instead. Glancing over at the shapeshifter, she was looking out the window, appearing deep in thought. “I mean I don’t think she’d mind… I just didn’t think you’d want anyone to know unless you told them,” you added, the silence making you a bit nervous.

“No… you’re right…”

“You know, it’s actually pretty cool, if you think about it,” you started, and Larissa glanced curiously in your direction again. “Being a shapeshifter kind of saved you - I mean how many other people’s organs can just shift to regenerate that quickly? If you weren’t a shapeshifter, we might not be sitting here right now.”

Larissa let out an audible breath through her nose. “I suppose that’s true…” Out of the corner of your eye you could see her turn in her seat, leaning the side of her head against the headrest so that she could face you. The smile on her lips grew a bit. “I suppose being a shapeshifter has its upsides, doesn’t it?”

“I can think of a few more upsides,” you quipped with a smirk, purposely lowering your voice an octave, and turning to look at Larissa just in time to see her cheeks flush a deep, gorgeous pink.

~~~

Arriving at Nevermore, you and Larissa were hounded by students as you tried to carry your belongings to her quarters. Your saving grace ended up being a protective Enid and a reluctant Wednesday, who told off their fellow students and made them give Larissa space - enough for the two of you to reach her office and lock yourselves inside.

“They’d be lost without you here,” you remarked casually as you dragged a duffle bag of your things towards the door to Larissa’s quarters - with your back turned, you missed the way Larissa paused and shifted away a blush, before hurrying after you.

The walk from the car to her quarters was enough to thoroughly exhaust Larissa. Though she was a shapeshifter and was likely to regenerate and recover quicker, she’d still lost a lot of muscle tone in the coma, and so (much to her chagrin) you had her settle on the bed while you hung your clothes up in the closet.

“Hey, Riss? Where can I put this?” you asked as you pulled a handful of paints out of your bag.

Larissa looked around the room - with the hospital stay and the short notice, of course she hadn’t yet been able to consider where you would actually put any of your belongings, and she tilted her head in thought. “There should be some space in the bottom drawer,” she said, pointing to a dresser against the wall. “We can clear up a better space later.”

You crawled over to the dresser from where you were sitting, opening the drawer. It was mostly empty aside from some extra linens, which Larissa instructed you to place in the closet, and a large, heavy photo album. You took hold of the leatherbound album and glanced imploringly at Larissa - she gestured with her hand, inviting you to pick it up. 

Opening the front cover, it dawned on you that this was a family album - right on the front page, there was a black and white photograph of a woman in a hospital bed, holding a newborn baby. “Is this you?”

Larissa smiled. “Yes. Come here.” She patted the space on the bed beside her and you settled next to her with the album open on your lap. Larissa wrapped her arm around your shoulders and kissed your temple, before turning the page to another baby photo - in this one, both mother and father were present, baby wrapped in a quilted blanket and snuggled tight against father’s chest as they stood in the entryway of what appeared to be a large house.

“My parents,” Larissa supplied, though you didn’t need the confirmation - the man was tall, with Larissa’s shoulders, Larissa’s nose; the woman’s light hair and soft features had clearly been passed straight onto her daughter.

You flipped through page after page, photo after photo, of a young Larissa and her family and friends. Larissa at 2 on some rocky beach, in the arms of her grandmother, of whom both she and her mother were the spitting image. Larissa at 5 in a leotard and tights, sitting on the floor of a ballet studio and grinning up at the camera, with one front tooth missing. Larissa at 8 in her Sunday best, standing in front of a church, her father’s hand on her shoulder and her mother standing just off to the side. Larissa at 9 on horseback. Larissa at 11 with her arm around a friend’s shoulder. Larissa at 13 in front of the gates of Nevermore. A few shots of Larissa’s parents, of her grandmother, of an uncle on her father’s side. Of Larissa at Nevermore with other students, or with family on school breaks.

The more photos the two of you flipped through, the more Larissa seemed to lose herself in thought. Finally, her mood unnerved you enough for you to utter a quiet, “we don’t have to do this, you know. If it’s upsetting you.”

Larissa shook her head, a soft smile on her face, though the crease between her brows was deep and pronounced. “I’m alright, darling… I’d just forgotten this was here, that’s all.”

You knew that wasn’t all but, not wanting to pry, you kept your mouth shut. Instead, you leaned your head against Larissa’s shoulder and pushed the photo album off your lap, closing your eyes and letting Larissa process in silence - a silence that stretched so long that her next words startled you.

“I think you’d like my father.”

You raised your head in confusion, remembering what Larissa had told you about her parents. “Would I?”

That comment made Larissa chuckle. “Yes, I think you would. I think he’d like you, too.”

“Do you still talk to him?”

“Not in a few years… the last time my parents called, I had a girlfriend over. My mother heard her speak in the background and it caused an argument. My father reached out the next day but I remembered that I’m grown up and don’t have to tolerate that sort of behavior anymore… I changed my phone number that same day.”

Not knowing what to say and knowing you were treading on unknown terrain, you nodded along, watching Larissa’s expression carefully as it shifted between remorse, annoyance, wistfulness, and humor. Larissa carried on after another moment’s silence.

“Maybe it’s time I called him...” The shapeshifter’s expression was resolute, and she shifted her gaze from her lap to your face, a soft smile playing on her lips when she saw your eyes widen at her conclusion. “I think he’d be pleased to know I’ve found you… and it would anger my dear mother greatly.” Larissa’s eyes danced with mirth and it made you smile.

“There’s nothing I love more than pissing off homophobes,” you teased, drawing a laugh from deep within Larissa’s chest and making her pull you even closer to press her lips to your temple.

“That can wait, darling… First, I’d like you all to myself for a few days…”

~~~

As afternoon faded to evening, you moved from the bedroom to the kitchen, enjoying the blissful haze of each other’s presence as you prepared dinner. With the long hospital stay behind you and the heavy conversation about Larissa’s family long forgotten, you laughed and bantered as you had in the weeks prior to the incident - there was no Morticia to bring you down, no Wednesday to distract you, no monster to keep you on your toes, not even roommates to interrupt you. Even work was on hold before Larissa could meet with the school board to discuss her return to work. It was just you and Larissa, in the quarters that you now shared, partaking in the simple, domestic act of cooking together - which meant that you were dutifully watching over the salmon in the pan to make sure it cooked evenly, while Larissa sat at the table with her legs crossed, nursing a glass of red wine and smiling fondly at you.

It reminded you so much of the first time that you cooked for Larissa, just after the Rave’N, when you’d desperately wanted to make up for that disastrous evening. How happy you were back then to simply cook for Larissa - and now, you were getting the chance again.

After dinner, you insisted Larissa join you in the living room to continue the evening listening to music. You lowered the tonearm onto the record, then turned to find Larissa watching you with a faint blush dusting her cheeks. The opening notes to “Unforgettable” by Nat King Cole began to play, a song you’d come to associate with your girlfriend. You stepped towards the sofa and stopped in front of Larissa, placing your hands on her shoulders and lowering yourself slowly to straddle her lap. Her hands immediately found your waist, pulling you down and holding you in place, fingers flexing against you, savoring the feeling of holding you.

“Sweet girl,” Larissa cooed with a soft, affectionate smile, running her hands from your hips to the tops of your thighs, then back again, seeming to marvel at being able to feel you beneath her palms again. You closed your eyes, resting your forehead against Larissa’s and humming the melody of the song.

“Darling?” Larissa asked softly, her warm breath tickling your face, and you pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, silently urging her to ask whatever she wanted to ask you. “You said something about spending Christmas at the beach?”

You were taken aback by her question, your brow furrowing as you racked your brain to figure out what she was talking about.

“In the hospital,” she clarified quickly, and suddenly you remembered having spoken to her about going away for Christmas while she was in the coma. You smiled, pleased that she had heard and remembered that, and nodded. “Is that something you were serious about?”

Your smile widened. “Yeah, dead serious.”

“Well, perhaps we should look into flights then…” A smirk was slowly creeping onto Larissa’s face, and her hands slid from your waist to the swell of your ass, tugging you just an inch closer so that your front was completely flush with hers. You felt your grin would split your face in two and you eagerly bobbed your head ‘yes’.

The prospect of spending the holidays with Larissa seemed almost too good to be true. Just over a week ago, you weren’t entirely sure she’d make it to Christmas at all, and now you were sitting on her lap, with her warm body fitted snugly against your own, making plans for the future. Happiness bloomed within you and you cupped Larissa’s cheeks, your eyes dancing between her own. Your lips mouthed the lyrics of the song playing, and her own lips curled into the most adoring of smiles in response.

That's why darling, it's incredible That someone so unforgettable Thinks that I am unforgettable too

x

Taglist: @littledollll @nlr-33 @mysaviorfalsegod @imlike-so-gaydude @rainbow-hedgehog @enchantressb @alder-saan @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @amateurwritescm @brienneswife @principal-weems09 @messynessi @larissaoftarthweems @anti-bright-places @lvinhs @catechristiesstuff @ladyzmilf002 @milfsloverblog @opheliauniverse @orangeisnttheonlyfruit @im-a-carnivorous-plant @alexusonfire @bigolgay @kimiinou @wastdstime @scream-queenlover @imprincipalweemspet @justcallmelittleone @willowshadenox @milfsloverblog @leftoverenvy @yahaqueen @peggycarter3 @lilfartbox1 @makemyworldworthliving @crow-raven-crow @mosscoveredcrucifix @opalthefrog @barbarasstar @giogwensversion

[madhatterbri]

Protector | D.P.

Summary: So what that maybe Y/N has been getting intimidated by Gunther and Ludwig and Damian handled business?

Author's Note: I still don't care about this GIF, but if I did, this is what the fic would look like.

Damian Priest Masterlist

WWE Masterlist

Taglist: @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @mrsarcherofinfamy @terrortwinunicorn @brideofinfamy @miss-kuki-nz @hotwheels1108 @new-zealand-chic @magicalbuttertarts @eringobragh420 @missbmc94 @surdelcielo

As always, requests are open! Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist. ❤️

The first time Y/N noticed something was amiss happened a few weeks ago on RAW.

She was in catering to get some food for her boss, Adam Pearce. As his assistant, Y/N was expected to run around whenever he wanted or needed something.

After getting some of his favorites, the young assistant hurried to the door to bring him back his food. The doorway was blocked by none other than Gunther.

"Excuse me," she whispered. He was currently feuding with her boyfriend, Damian. When he didn't move, she spoke up louder. "I said excuse me!"

Some of the wrestlers in the room looked up. Gunther glared at her yet stepped aside. His lackey Ludwig followed. Both men looked down at her as she scurried off to Mr. Pearce.

Their intimidation didn't stop there. Week after week, they came up with new ways to make her scared. Each week, they worked.

The week after that, they bumped into her. Gunther and Ludwig were on either side of her. She dropped her clipboard and pen to the floor. There was no one else in the area at the time to witness it. Annoyed, she chalked it up to none of the three paying attention.

After that incident, she started to travel around the arena with anyone else. Her boss seemed to like how she hovered around him now. Before, he would have to call her and search for her. Now, it was like having a second shadow.

The men would simply stare her down when they couldn't do anything. Their gaze was intense. The hairs on the back of her neck would stand at attention. She didn't know what she did to them, but she would certainly find out.

Y/N couldn't find anyone to stick with. Everyone was too busy getting ready for RAW, leaving her to fend for herself. She turned a corner while looking for Seth Rollins and stopped. Ludwig stood before her, looking as stoic as ever. When she turned around, Gunther was waiting for her. The men stepped towards her. She backed into the wall behind her.

"What do you two want?" She hissed. Her tone sounded a lot more menacing than the fear she had inside.

Ludwig raised an eyebrow in shock. "Little missy finally has a backbone. No more hiding,"

"Damian is going to wipe the floor with the two of you at Survivor Series," she threatened.

Gunther laughed. "Quite the lovely boyfriend you got there, but he may not even make it to Survivor Series,"

Y/N moved to get away from him. Gunther put up his arm against the wall. With nowhere to turn, she stared up at Gunther. Tears filled her eyes. "I will just tell Damian,"

"Are you sure you want to make that decision? I wouldn't," Gunther spoke. A chill ran down the back of her spine.

"Fine, so he will just beat your ass at Survivor Series. It doesn't matter to me,"

Gunther smiled. "If he even makes it to then,"

He lowered his hand, allowing her to be free. She didn't stick around. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she rushed to the nearest bathroom. Before she could make it, Damian stopped her.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," he paused when he saw her face. She cupped her cheek and wiped away a tear. "Who hurt you?"

Y/N wanted to tell him more than anything. She was afraid of what would happen to him if she did. Feeling hopeless, she lashed out at him. "Just leave me alone,"

Damian dropped his hand in shock. More fresh tears fell down her face. She pushed open the door and disappeared inside. The concerned boyfriend swore he heard sobs. When he looked down the hallway, he saw Gunther and Ludwig walking away and laughing. His blood boiled.

Damian waited for the perfect moment. He was signing autographs and thinking of a moment to strike Gunther and Ludwig. Fortunately for him, he didn't have to wait long.

Gunther snuck up behind him as he was signing his name. Still fueled by the fury of seeing her cry, a brief struggle broke out. Damian had Gunther laid out on the floor right in front of him.

"Let me tell you a little something, pendejo. You talk or look at my girl one more time, and we won't be waiting until Survivor Series. You got that?"

Damian didn't bother waiting for an answer. He patted his chest and walked away to find Y/N.

[yoomiwrites]

We won³

Summary: The war is won, yet you lost too much. And well – how much can you still win?

Note: And here we go, part 3! Since I have all of it already finished, might as well make it a daily update. And THANKS a lot for every like, comment and message! I see you and I am THANKFUL. If you have more ideas, for stories or anything, hit em into my little box on my profile. I also have a Silco Story rotting on my phone since season 1, but idk if anyone would be up for that.

The rebuilding continued, and life finally found a rhythm that felt normal—or at least as close to normal as things could get. Ekko worked tirelessly with the Firelights, but the urgency of survival had faded into the background. With it, so had the moments he used to share with you.

At first, he didn’t notice the shift. You still checked in occasionally, bringing him food or teasing him about overworking. But those visits became less frequent, your easy laughter and steady presence replaced by quick smiles and polite excuses.

One evening, he sat alone in the Firelight base, absently tinkering with a small device. His thoughts drifted to you—how you used to be there, sitting across from him, filling the quiet with your chatter or just the comfort of your presence. The realization hit him suddenly: you weren’t around as much anymore.

And it scared him.

Ekko spent the next day looking for you, his mind racing with possibilities. Had something happened to you? Were you hurt? Or worse, were you pulling away because he’d taken you for granted?

When he couldn’t find you, he turned to Vi.

“Have you seen Y/N?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Vi raised an eyebrow, leaning casually against the wall. “Yeah, they’re out.”

“Out where?”

“On a date.”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. A date? He blinked, stunned. “A date?” he echoed, his voice betraying his surprise.

Vi smirked at his reaction, though her tone softened. “What, you didn’t know? They’ve been trying to move on for a while now. Guess it’s working.”

Ekko stared at her, the weight of her words sinking in. He’d known—on some level—that you’d cared about him. He wasn’t blind to the way you’d looked at him, the way you were always there when he needed you. But he’d never let himself think too hard about it, too focused on the mission, too afraid of what it might mean.

Now, the thought of you moving on left him feeling... hollow.

Vi clapped a hand on his shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Don’t screw this up, Ekko,” she said, her voice firm but not unkind. “If you don’t want to lose them, you better figure out what you actually feel.”

He nodded absently, her words ringing in his ears. For the first time, Ekko realized what he might lose if he let you drift away completely—and he wasn’t sure he could handle that.

[strawberryblue-blog]

A to Z —Pau Cubarsi.

summary: SFW alphabet with Pau.

warning: none. cute, soft, fluff, headcanon.

words count: 1k.

A - Affection (How affectionate is he? How does he show affection towards you?)

He was not very affectionate at first, he is very shy and was embarrassed to invade your space. Although he is learning to get attached and give you lots of cuddles but he still feels a little embarrassed. He prefers you to be the one to show it first.

B - Best friend (What would it be like if he were your best friend? How would the friendship begin?)

Probably if you were friends, Pau would be the shy friend who wouldn't approach you but after you became friends he wouldn't let you go. He is good, caring and kind, he would be your best friend forever.

C - Cuddles (Does he like cuddles? What would his cuddles be like?).

He likes them, he has to admit it. He gets so intimate and affectionate, he's a kid and likes it when you cuddle his hair, back or nape of his neck.

D - Domestic (Does he want to settle down? How good is he at cooking and cleaning, etc?)

Yes, he would like to move in with you in the future. He's still learning, he's still very young and living alone costs, but he would definitely do anything from home to help you.

E - End (If you had to break up with your partner, how would you do it?)

You would feel very sad, too much. But sometimes relationships wear out and I don't think he would cut you off. He would hold out until he tries to get it back or you are the one to leave him but Pau would rather break his heart than yours.

F - Fiancé (How does he feel about commitment? How long would it take for him to marry/ask you to marry him?)

Honestly at this age it terrifies him. He is very young and getting married is a huge decision that takes time and training. But yes he would propose in the very distant future.

G - Gentle (How kind is he, both physically and emotionally?)

Too much. Everything about Pau screams kindness. He is a cuddly little bear even if he is very shy, if he trusts you enough he will be like a baby in your arms.

H - Hugs (Does he like hugs? How often does he do it and what is it like?)

Of course he likes them. He likes to feel your warmth on his body when you hug him, how his muscles relax and how they fit perfectly when he surrounds you.

I - I love you (How quickly did he say the L word?).

It wasn't that fast. Probably because you were the first person he really said it to and he struggled a lot to say it to you. Maybe out of fear or maybe out of embarrassment.

J - Jealousy (To what extent does he/she get jealous? What does he/she do when jealous?)

He is not a jealous person but if he sees someone else trying to get close to you with other intentions, he might be somewhat moved like anyone else. But he usually isn't.

K - Kissing (What are his kisses like? Where does he kiss you? Where does he like you to kiss him?)

Shy but warm and soft kisses. On your forehead especially, hands and cheek, with small touches full of love and energy.

L - Little ones (How is he with children? Would he like to have them in the future?)

He is quite good with children, maybe because he is still one and understands them. Yes he would like to but as I said before, in the very future.

M- Mornings (How are the mornings with him?)

Mornings with laughter and shy good morning kisses while rolling in the sheets and snuggling with fiaca. When he wakes up with you he is in a good mood and could stay with you a while longer even knowing he is late for his commitments.

N - Night (How are the nights with him?)

Quiet and relaxed. Probably watch movies or play board games to have good times together, would go to bed late and wouldn't mind you talking all night.

O - Open (When did he start revealing things about himself? Does he say everything all at once or does he reveal little things little by little)?

It took him quite a while because of his shyness. He is a person who listens more than he talks but after trusting you, he would say anything he wants to know and tell you everything for advice or support.

P - Patience (How easily he gets angry?)

He never gets angry. Neither with you, nor with others. He is a person who would never lose his temper as long as no one would hurt you or treat you badly.

Q - Quizzes (How much would he remember about you? Does he remember all the details or does he forget unimportant things?)

Everything. He knows everything about you and remembers every second of your moments together because you are important to Pau.

R - Remember (What is your favorite moment of your relationship?)

He really likes when you go to the court to support him, that's definitely his favorite memory of his life. When you wear his jersey, when you shout his name, when you tell him how proud you are of him.

S - Safety (Is he very protective? How would he protect you? How would he like to be protected?)

The usual. He wants you to feel safe with him, so he might be a little protective when they are out and about, putting his arms around your shoulders or holding your hand tightly. Also when his friends are around, he usually hugs you around the waist or rests your back on his chest.

T - Try (How much effort does he put into appointments, anniversaries, gifts, daily chores?).

He is very detail-oriented because he loves to give you with your likes. He would buy every single thing for you, even clothes or food, whenever he goes to your house he always comes with something in his hands to give you.

U - Ugly (What are some of your bad habits?)

Sometimes getting lost in a fixed point maybe. Sometimes you're talking to him and Pau gets lost on you, it's like he gets paralyzed and you have to repeat things again.

V - Vanity (To what extent does he care about his appearance?)

It's quite embarrassing for him but he tends to worry a lot about his looks, maybe because he's young and doesn't feel comfortable with it yet. How for example, he didn't know how much he liked her smile before but now that you know that you love her, Pau starts to like it too.

W - Whole (Would he feel incomplete without you?)

Yes. After he gets used to you, it will be hard for him to leave you alone for so many days because of his travels abroad. He would call you at night or text you every hour to know what you are doing, where you are, etc. He hopes to come home soon to see you again and hug you.

X - Xtra (A random headcanon for him).

He likes to cook with you, especially desserts. He is very caring and likes to spend quality time while making yummy things, learns from you and is really fun to cook with.

Y - Yuck (What are some things he wouldn't like, either in general or from his partner?)

He wouldn't like it if you let your studies get the best of you. He understands that sometimes it's hard and you want to give up but Pau would support you to keep going and not stress out, that it's not all rosy sometimes and that's okay. He also wouldn't want you to stop studying so you can go see him, he wouldn't allow you to spend your time on the game while you have to study for important exams.

Z - Zzz (What are your sleeping habits?).

Being the little spoon is one of his cutest habits. Or sleeping on your chest, hugging your torso tightly. He feels warm and likes it when you gently stroke his hair until he falls asleep.

[changingplumbob]

CW: Moderate sim spice - Guide to content warnings

Glenn tried to be in the moment but it was hard. His mind was racing. Silver was an excellent kisser. The werewolf had said it had been a while but it was obviously like riding a bike. Glenn was quietly proud of being the first one to get close to Silver for so long but he wasn't going to tell him that. Silver might think it meant Glenn liked that he had been alone when the opposite was true. The man he was wrapped around had a good heart, and Glenn wished he hadn't shut himself off from society, from love. But guilt was a tricky thing. He didn't blame Silver for wanting to run away from it all.

*waves* Let me explain for anyone new. My sims have woohoo drives and like to get it on but I know reading that isn't enjoyable for everyone. The text below contains that so if you are only here for the plot, or it makes you feel uncomfortable, please feel free to skip the rest of this post. You will not miss anything essential to the plot by not reading it.

Silver: *between kisses* Watcher you do taste good

Glenn: *giggling* Thank you *kisses* I have a whole dental hygiene routine

Silver: I love that you take care of yourself

Glenn: I can take care of you to if you let me

Glenn could feel Silver start to smile. He ran his hand through Silver's hair and attempted to pull him closer. A foolish mission as they were already chest to chest, but he needed him.

Silver: You ready for me to take your pants off now

Glenn: More than, but let me see you to

Silver placed Glenn gently on the bed and bent down to take his shoes off before removing his own.

Glenn: You know, we kind of have matching shoes

Silver: What do you mean

Glenn: Mine are brown and yours are grey- or silver! Get it, because you're Silver

Silver: *chuckling* It's not to late for me to cancel this woohoo you know

Glenn: I was just trying to say I like it. It's like we were in different places but we still got matching shoes. It's cute

Silver: You're cute Babycakes

Silver pulled off Glenn's jeans and boxers slowly. Glenn felt nervous lying back as Silver examined him, and again he got the feeling Silver wanted to eat him up.

Glenn: Can I do you first

Silver: You sure

Glenn: Yeah

Glenn watched intently as Silver removed his remaining clothes far quicker than he'd done for Glenn. Silver then pushed Glenn back on the bed and straddled him.

Silver: Just use your hands

Glenn: But I want to taste-

Silver: If you do a good job I'll feed you some

Glenn blushed and focused on the task in front of him. He was nervous but Silver stroking his chest and face helped him keep calm. In the end, well, he did get a taste.

Silver: Come here

Silver pulled Glenn up and around so the pair were sitting on the edge of the bed. Silver pulled Glenn's face to his and peppered it with kisses making Glenn chuckle.

Glenn: Beefcake, what are you doing

Silver: You'll see but you need to understand... Werewolves are naturally stronger

Glenn: Promises promises

Silver: I'm serious Glenn. If I do anything that is too strong... anything that hurts you, you need to tell me

Glenn: But then you'll stop

Silver: I'll stop what I'm doing because I don't want to hurt you but I'll finish what I start okay? Don't deal with pain just because you think I won't bring you to a finish

Glenn: I promise Silver, I'll tell you if it's too much

Silver: Good, because I can get a little over enthusiastic sometimes

Glenn: Please, I am the most over enthusiastic

Chuckling, Silver leaned over Glenn's lap and got to work caressing him. Glenn had imagined what it would be like but it was better.

Glenn: Oh, um-

Silver: Too rough?

Glenn: No your hands are perfect I just... So for a potion of plentiful needs you need some pleasure and that's harvested when someone orgasms. Henri gave me some empty vials for it. Would you mind if when I do finish I channel some of that pleasure to be used?

Silver: Do you need like the physical-

Glenn: No, no no. No body fluids required. I just didn't want to do it without asking

Silver smirked and got off the bed to kneel in front of Glenn.

Silver: I don't mind that. Do you mind this?

Glenn: Mind what? You're not doing-

Silver kissed the inside of his thigh and Glenn twitched.

Glenn: I don't mind that

Silver: Uh huh, and this

And so Silver continued to tease Glenn, a kiss here, a soft bite there, until Glenn couldn't stand anymore and begged Silver to finish him off. As Silver enveloped him and his tongue joined in with his hands Glenn struggled to recall the spell for channeling the pleasure, unable to focus on much more than the sensations he was feeling.

When he finished and curled around Silver's head some brain function came back to him. He kissed Silver's back and looked up to watch one of the vials on his shelf fill up with the telltale pink contents. Rather than dissipate in to nothing the pleasure was being stored.

Silver: I was right, you do taste good

Glenn: And you give amazing head

Silver: What can I say, it's my centuries of experience Babycakes

Previous ... Next

[animasolaoriginal]

I n f a t u a t e d ♦️NINETEEN

CHAPTER ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾TEN ELEVEN◾TWELVE◾THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN FIFTEEN◾SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN◾EIGHTEEN NINETEEN

After manipulating her into saying no to him, he watches with growing admiration how well she is taking her punishment.

ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Dubcon elements. Dom/sub dynamic. Praise kink. Free use/power play. Sex toys under clothing. Edging. Orgasm denial. Semi-public oral sex. (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 5.9k

EIGHTEEN 🟥 NINETEEN 🟥 TWENTY

He has his arm around her waist and his thumb on the dial in the app, the buzzing noise growing louder when he moves it. She's squirming in his hold, nails digging into his arm as she presses her lips together, fighting the sensations pulsing away inside her holes. He's conscious of their surroundings, for now the restroom is empty, they are alone in their stall at the far back, but knowing the amount of people walking around outside, this may change any second, so he hurries things along a little.

“Tell me why you are being punished,” he says softly, leaning down to her.

Her pleading eyes are big, glistening, pupils dilated. “I... I was...” Her voice is shaking, cut up by gasps and stuttered moans, body convulsing against him under the assault of the vibrating toys stuck in her cunt and ass. “I was ungrateful...” she croaks out. “I was questioning... your... your generosity...”

The comment about why she's even had to pack her old things when he won't allow her to use them wasn't even that fresh on his mind, but she seems to have given it some thought, so why not include it. “And?” he asks, increasing the strength of the buzzing even further.

She howls quietly, pressing her flushed face into his arm for a moment, her whole body shaking badly, then she forces herself to look at him again.

“And... and I... I said no... when you... you wanted to make me... make me come... in the diner...” she stammers, lips quivering, eyebrows furrowed, hips bucking unconsciously against his leg, a frail attempt to relieve some tension.

He tilts his head, watching her, thumb moving up yet another inch. A groan escapes her when she's spasming against him, hands so tight around his arm she's almost cutting off his circulation.

“You denied me,” he says calmly, eyes raking over her shuddering body, down to where her wetness drips down her thighs.

“Y-yes, I did... I did...” she whines.

“You were ungrateful.”

“Yes, yes, I was...”

He hums softly, then moves his thumb all the way down, stopping the vibrations altogether. She gasps, the sudden loss of stimulation making her stumble. A disappointed wail slips past her trembling lips.

It takes her a moment to collect herself, her grip on him easing, her head lowered, her breaths rapid, chest heaving. Then she sniffles, shoulders sagging, and she says: “I'm sorry.”

“I know you are, sweetheart,” he replies softly, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his chest. “But you understand that there have to be consequences, right?”

“Yes, sir,” she answers, inhaling sharply.

“Good,” he concludes and sighs deeply, turning the screen off to slip his phone into his pocket. He lets go of her, leans her against the wall, and gathers the clothes she's exchanged for the new outfit he's bought her. The blouse makes her look a little older, the skirt however pulls a different association to mind. To find this kind of item in a mainstream store like this has surprised him, but he's happy he's found it.

The perfect length to show off her legs (and the welts on the backs of her thighs, a clear sign of his possession for the knowing eye, an unfortunate display of strange horizontal red lines for the innocent bystander), and if she isn't careful or if the wind bullies her too much, everyone will see the leather straps of the harness holding the toys inside her. It was either that or her bare cunt, but again, to the unknowing eye, some people will only see a black thong digging deep between her ass cheeks, while others will know her secret.

He could have just spanked her and be done with it, but he thought a little humiliation (or the idea of it) would be a better punishment. She denied him, too afraid to let go in a public place (and they weren't even that public, in their corner in the diner, she just had to keep quiet, but she's clearly not there yet), and if she's not ready to climax, she will not do so for the rest of the day. That's the plan.

She watches him out of hooded eyes, not daring to move just yet with those toys inside her. He looks her over, then sighs, putting the bag down again. His hands find her flushed face, and he tries to wipe the sweat and tears away, smooths her hair, makes her more presentable again, he even crouches down in front of her, nudging her legs apart and inspects the wetness level between them.

Running a hand over her soaked skin, he deems it tolerable and unnoticeable. Standing up again he wipes the same hand over her rear, teasing the harness. She flinches, but stays silent, looking like she wants to cry some more.

“Hey, it'll be alright,” he tells her, gently brushing his knuckles against her chin to make her look up. “I'll be right by your side wherever we go. You, me, and your two new best friends,” he adds, giving her plump rear a reverberating slap that makes her jump against him with a gasp.

She remains uncertain, timid and possibly also a little cranky, but she'll get used to it. It's not like this is the first time she's wearing them, though the last time has been too short for his liking, not public enough. He'll change that now.

Picking up the bags again, he then grabs her hand and opens the stall door, pulling her after him. She's wobbly, not just because of the cargo inside her, but those shoes seem to cause her quite some trouble too, even though he chose the wedges, giving her more ground coverage instead of those pointy high heels. He guides her to the sinks and pushes the bags into her hands while he quickly washes his. Drying them with some paper towels, he keeps watching her in the mirror.

“Does it hurt? Be honest.”

She shakes her head, swallows hard. “Just feels... weird, full. They move with every step.” Her voice is that quiet hum, kind of defeated, flat. She's probably focusing her energy elsewhere.

“They're supposed to. You'll want to feel them...” He takes the bags from her and grabs her hand again. “Come on, step after step, you can do this. Remember, the more normal you act, the less people will notice you.”

She huffs something of a scoff, and he lets her, smirking at the little pout on her lips. Her hand squeezes his fingers when they start walking, and he takes it slow, guides her out of the restroom and across the parking lot. It's packed, but nobody gives them a second glance. He unlocks his car and opens the door for her, watching in growing amusement how she clambers inside, wincing and whining quietly before she settles on the seat, pressing her thighs together so hard they're trembling.

He leans over her and buckles her in, brushing his nose against her cheek as he does so. “You're doing great, darling,” he praises her, savoring the little inhale that vibrates in his ear.

She watches him when he leans back, and he winks at her before he closes the door with a soft thud. Once he's sitting behind the wheel, he turns to her, tilting his head.

“So, where do you want to go?” he asks, relishing in the confusion washing over her flushed face. “There's a farmer's market nearby, we can look for fresh vegetables for tonight's dinner? But I don't feel like cooking, to be honest...”

“You cook?” she breathes out before he can give her more options.

A laugh escapes him. She sounds a bit too surprised. He may have the means to hire first class chefs and never have the need to bend a finger, but sometimes he prefers doing it himself. “I do, yes, occasionally, if the mood strikes. Maybe I'll show you one day.”

There's a soft twitch to her lips. “I'd like that,” she whispers.

“Yeah?” he repeats, equally surprised now. “Hmm, that does sound nice, doesn't it? You can help me, cut some vegetables, maybe wear a cute little apron and nothing else...” She turns her face away with a little croak, and he chuckles again. “One day, baby.”

She only hums, twisting her fingers into the short hem of her skirt.

“We could also go to the mall, how about that spa treatment I promised you before? Manicure, pedicure, Brazilian wax?”

She stares back at him with wide eyes, and he finds it just a tad too amusing.

“Don't worry, I like you just the way you are,” he says quietly, his hand finding its way to her thigh. He told himself to deny her any touches, but he already knows he can't keep that up for long. He likes to feel her soft skin under his calloused fingers, her warmth, the little shivers.

She blushes softly, licking her lips. He squeezes her leg.

“Some more shopping then?” he suggests, trying to think of more things to do where she has to walk and be in public. He'd know where to go in the city, but they're a few hours outside of it, and he has to take what is being given to him. “I think there's even a cinema in that mall...”

A glint goes through her eyes at that, making him smile. “Mall sounds okay,” she says quietly, her eyes moving from his hand to his face and back, shy, timid, unsure. So incredibly cute and innocent.

He starts the engine. “Mall it is then,” he replies, patting her thigh before shifting the car into gear and driving off the parking lot. At the first red light, he shifts on his seat and fumbles his phone out of his pocket, ignoring the missed calls and going straight into the vibrator app.

“I almost forgot,” he tells her, and she stares at him, hands braced on the seat beside her when he moves his thumb up on the screen, setting both toys on a five. It's mild, but still more than nothing, and she can obviously tell when soft little whines escape her. “No need to keep the noises down in here, baby. Just let go... but remember: you are not allowed to come.”

She swallows audibly and nods. “Yes, sir,” she whispers, sitting stiff in her seat, just letting the pulses go through her now.

He gives her a nod and puts his phone in the compartment between their seats, not without glancing at the accumulated messages. He can't be bothered today, though. He's paying enough people a lot of money to take care of his businesses, they will be able to handle whatever is stressing them out without him today.

By the time they reach the large mall, his mind has nevertheless wandered to the club, and he can imagine the worried faces of his men as they try again and again to reach him. Pulling into a parking spot right in the middle, he grabs his phone and unlocks it, then throws a side glance at the silent girl beside him.

She has her eyes closed, a concentrated look on her face, hands clenched around the edge of the seat. He wants to give her a break, but instead of turning the toys off, he amps them up to a ten. She cries out, her eyes flying open, her betrayed look almost enough to make him feel sorry. He slides his thumb higher, eleven, twelve, then settles on thirteen.

Her body shudders, legs trembling, her lips parted as quiet moans slip past them. She's squirming on the seat, face flushed, eyes watering, her noises growing louder, quicker, eyelids fluttering, eyes twitching, about to roll back – but then he taps the Turn Off button and she deflates almost immediately, thrashing her head against the back of the seat in frustration, a loud groan escaping her throat.

He only clicks his tongue, and her shoulders sag, lips quivering as she presses them into a pout. “Stay here,” he tells her, waiting for her to look at him, then gives her a pointed stare. She nods, her chest still heaving when she relaxes back into the seat.

He exits the car and closes the door, then dials the club. As he listens to the updates, gives orders and confirms settled arrangements, while also easing the worries of concerned employees, he keeps watching the girl, so tiny in his car, fragile, helpless. Taking her punishment like a champ. He loves teasing her, but he already knows he'll give her so much more come tonight. She may not deserve it, but this is about him as well, and he certainly deserves to bury his cock deep in that beautiful little cunt. And that tight little ass. And that even tighter little throat.

Just thinking about it makes him hard, and he has to put a hand into his pocket to adjust himself discreetly. The temptation with this girl. This was about making her take the walk of shame, but it won't be particularly easy for him either. Maybe he won't even wait for tonight.

Once the call has ended, he walks around to her side and opens the door, leans in to unbuckle her and holds out his hand when he straightens up again. She takes it, it's shaking, but her grip is firm as she tries to gracefully get out of his car. There's still a wobble to her steps, she's stiff and literally walks as if she has a stick up her ass, which couldn't be closer to the truth, but she can't walk around like that.

His hand is on her lower back when he leans down to her. “Act normal,” he tells her. She breathes loudly through her nose, looking up at him. “I'm trying,” she whispers. He raises an eyebrow, ready to scold her with an “Attitude, young lady”, but then she grabs his hand and smiles at him.

She is trying. Brave little girl.

He brushes his lips against her cheek, smiling back at her when he leans up again. His hand moves to close around hers, and she's eagerly curling her small fingers around his thumb, giving it a soft squeeze. Together they take the first step away from the car, and she flinches, the next one, another wince, the third one, she's becoming quieter, and by the time they reach the front doors, she's walking more or less normally, still a little stiff (but that could also be because of the unfamiliar shoes), her grip tight (little labored breaths puffing from her nose), her cheeks bright red (which totally suits her anyway), but she's trying.

They've spent the last hour just strolling through the vast shopping mall, casually, mostly window shopping, occasionally he pulls her to the side and shows her something on the various displays, just to let her catch her breath. She's still flushed, tense, her hand sweaty, her legs trembling, but he couldn't be more proud. “You're doing great,” he tells her quietly, feeling her small body shaking against his.

Luckily the mall isn't as crowded on this ordinary Tuesday. There are still a lot of people, but they come and go in groups, and he notices some of them looking their way, but it's nothing new to him. Maybe they've seen his face somewhere before. Maybe they like looking at the girl by his side with her short skirt and beautiful legs, particularly toned today with how she's balancing on her shoes. Maybe they aren't even looking at them after all.

He has no reason to be paranoid right now, she, however, keeps looking around nervously, squeezing his hand or turning her body just in time before someone can see the welts on the backs of her thighs. He's enjoying the sight more and more, it's been a moment of weakness, an unfair punishment, but seeing his marks on her, no matter how they came to be, makes him feel proud (and painfully hard).

If he doesn't take care of this soon, he might attract more stares than her.

But he has to be patient for a little longer, even if the images of her on her knees keep haunting him as they continue their stroll. He could take her right here, back pushed against the store front, caged in by his body, lips strained around his cock, and just the idea of people walking past and seeing them like that makes his cock twitch against the confines of his jeans.

He's never been particularly fond of public humiliation, not like that, it's his reputation on the line as well. Most of the city knows him as a business man, successful, relentless, good in what he does, he's the face of several prominent establishments, from nightclubs and restaurants to bars and even a few exclusive fashion stores, but his main focus lies on the nightclub he uses for far more than selling alcohol to dance enthusiasts.

It's how he came to be where he is now, why he can indulge in pleasures nobody knows about. And he wants to keep it that way. So no making the girl giving him head in the middle of the mall. Too bad. But he'll find other corners, maybe even drag her back into yet another restroom, who knows. He has the whole rest of the day to figure something out.

A tug to his wrist pulls him from his thoughts, and he looks down at the girl next to him, whose cheeks are a little bit more flushed than before. He raises an eyebrow. “You okay?”

She bites her lip nervously, shifting from one foot to the other. “I... I gotta...” she mumbles, and even though she doesn't finish her sentence, he understands, opting to let it slide and not make her say it properly.

“Come on then,” he says with a sigh.

Looking around, he then drags her towards the restrooms which are separated here, unlike the mixed one at the department store, and he ponders what would be less strange: a man in the women's bathroom or a girl in the men's. He chooses the latter, and gently pulls her into the long room past the urinals to the stalls in the back. Luckily they are alone for now.

“Need help with the harness?” he asks quietly, watching her as he pushes her gently into the stall. She purses her lips, averts her eyes, but then lifts her skirt, her thighs trembling slightly. He chuckles softly and steps into the stall as well, pushing the door shut.

He tries to be quick about it, to loosen the leather straps from around her mound to allow him to pull the dildo out of her cunt. She groans quietly when he does, her silky flesh dragging along the silicone. Her scent hits his nostrils and it's overwhelming, making his cock throb just a bit more. Holding the drenched toy, he tilts his head. “The other too?”

She is still not looking at him, shame burning along her exposed skin, then she shakes her head.

He exhales loudly. “Alright then,” he says and turns around, playing with the vibrator between his fingers. “Be quick about it.”

“You... you're staying?” she stammers, alarm in her soft voice.

“You can't go with me here?” he replies, unable to hide his amusement. “Don't be ashamed, baby, nothing I haven't seen and heard before.”

He can feel her shuffle behind him, then he hears the quiet thud of the toilet lid and a strange tapping sound, and he figures she's creating noises with her fingernails on the wall to distract from other noises, and he just sighs. It's cute how embarrassed she is, and it's probably a natural reaction, especially since they really barely know each other, but these last days should have been intense and intimate enough for her to loosen up around him.

Eventually he hears water flushing, and when he turns around, she's standing in front of the toilet with her head still lowered, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt.

He opens the door then, looks around, then nods towards the sinks. She follows, quickly washes her hands, before he steps behind her, dildo in hand. Her eyes widen in the mirror when he puts his hand on her back and makes her lean forward slightly before he prods the toy back between her folds right away, right in the open, very noticeable should someone enter the restroom. She squirms, wails quietly, hands clutching the sink, he should have probably prepared her better, but he doesn't have time (and frankly, he likes to see her writhing in discomfort a little too much).

Once the toy is back inside her, he crouches down and fixes the leather straps of the harness, then gives her a gentle slap on her soft butt that makes her jump when he straightens up again. Her breaths are labored, her hips moving slightly as she adjusts to being filled up once more. When she finally meets his eyes again, her cheeks are bright red. “Thank you,” she whispers, licking her lips. He smiles softly as he leans past her and washes his hands, then brushes his lips against her ear while grabbing a paper towel.

“Good girl,” he whispers, watching goosebumps spread down her neck.

He considers pulling her back into the stall and making her kneel and take his cock down her throat, but then refrains, still thinking about finding a better place. Public restrooms are a little degrading after all, even for him.

Taking her hand, he then pulls her after him (and she follows with unsteady steps), back into the loud, anonymous crowd of the mall.

Since first meeting her, he's known she is a quick learner, adjusts easily to whatever he throws at her, not always without fussing, but always submissive enough to meet his standards, and she's trying her best, and as he watches her walk beside him, almost completely normal, almost as if her holes weren't plugged up by a thick dildo each, he considers changing her punishment because she seems to enjoy herself a little too much.

She's cute, how she points to certain things to show him, how she squeezes his hand and smiles up at him, just happy to be spending time with him like this, like a normal couple, and the thought makes him frown. They are not, far from it, and she shouldn't be left in the impression that they are.

She is his, a body to use and do whatever he wants with, her purpose is to please him. And apparently it pleases him to just walk with her, because he finds himself relaxing and leaning into her, searching her warmth, waiting for her big eyes to meet his, for that innocent little smile. It's a strange sensation, definitely not something he's done often – if at all.

And as Mistress' words come back to him, accusing him of having gone soft, he inhales sharply, still fighting these changes the girl next to him unknowingly forces upon him. His hand closes a little tighter around hers as he pulls her towards one of the many cafes, those with the little tables that sit right in the middle of the large hallway, right in the open, with the streams of people having to walk around them, and he doesn't know if it's a good idea or not to choose one of those.

In the end it doesn't matter, and he's guiding her towards a table, pulls her chair out and lets her sit down first, watching the little strain on her face as she does, and she's still squirming on her seat as he sits down opposite her. Their knees touch under the table, and he puts his large hand on hers for a moment, watching her intently, causing her to stiffen, but ultimately calm down.

He's barely leaned back when a waitress comes to their table, a small young thing like the girl across from him, but this girl has a face full of make up, dark rimmed eyes, hair in a bouncy ponytail, and an almost obnoxious smile on her red lips. And she's exclusively looking at him.

“Hi!” she chimes, rocking on the balls of her feet excitedly. “What can I get you?”

He looks at her, a little disgruntled that he didn't even have time to look at the menu and that this young woman doesn't seem to be able to read the room (he has to remind himself that they are in a small town mall and not a five star restaurant), but then orders a coffee for himself, and an orange juice and a sandwich for the girl whose knees keep bumping into his. He thanks the waitress with a smile, an automatic gesture for him, and once she's bounced away again, he looks over the table to find a sight he hasn't expected.

She glares after the other girl, eyes narrowed and dark, a strange tension on her usually soft face. When she looks back at him, the same expression stays a moment longer, before she looks down and bites her lip, breathing deeply. He holds off wondering what that gaze was all about, but when the waitress eventually returns with their order, balancing a tray on her hand, he witnesses again how her kind face turns sour, even more so when the young woman gets a little too close to him when putting down his coffee cup.

The waitress seems to take the amused glint in his eyes personal and giggles annoyingly, even brushes her fingers against his hand when she puts down the other items he ordered, always avoiding acknowledging his table partner. He thanks her, watching his girl out of the corner of his eye when he smiles at the other, then looks after her a moment longer than necessary. Turning his head back to the girl, she can't hide her flushed face fast enough.

She's jealous.

And now that he thinks about it, it's not the first time she's acted a little strange. He thinks back to the diner waitress named Nancy, who he's just treated like he had because he's been in a good mood, not even thinking about it much. For his innocent girl to be this possessive surprises him, it flatters him, and he can clearly think of many situations where he can use this trait to his advantage, but he still has to keep an eye on that. He can't have her throwing daggers with her eyes at every single female he gets in contact with.

They eat and drink in silence, and he watches her closely, determined to let her stew in her new-found emotion for a bit by not touching or talking to her, and when they're done, he waves for the waitress who comes bouncing back happily, giggling, twirling her hair, very obviously flirting with him – and to prove a point, he flirts back, smiles at her, even touches her arm when he hands her his credit card, watching the young woman blush deeply.

As he waits for her to return to finish the transaction, he throws a cautious glance towards the girl on the chair opposite him, and she's fuming, hiding it, but he can see the red spots on her cheeks, her glistening eyes, the way her shoulders are tense, and how she presses her knees together under the table. She doesn't even look at him, just stares into the direction the waitress has vanished to.

Leaning back in his chair, pulling one leg over the other, he gets out his phone, swipes through new messages, reads some emails, but then opens the vibrator app. Without tilting his chin up, he watches her when he slides his thumb over the dial, turning on the toys within her, slowly increasing their speed. An audible gasp escapes her that she quickly muffles with her hand, squirming on the chair, chin pressed into her palm as she leans on her elbow and now finally looks at him, eyes still full of betrayal, now more than ever.

He gives her a wink, she gives him a stare, and he'll make sure to remind her of her place later. The waitress returns, and he lowers his phone, hiding the screen, accepting his card back with another smile that makes the young woman giggle before she wishes him a lovely day, and he returns the verbiage, almost making himself sick with how sweet he sounds.

As soon as she is gone, he stands up and walks around the table, grabbing the girl's elbow a little too roughly. She looks up at him in surprise, but quickly stumbles after him as he pulls her into a smaller side hallway. Turning another corner, he notices the maintenance door and a camera above it, but he doesn't care, turns his back to it and tilts his head as he lets go of the girl's hand and points to the floor.

She falls to her knees almost instantly, although a wince escapes her and she struggles to find a comfortable position, but there's no hesitation when she watches him unbuckle his belt and than eagerly closes her hands around his cock once he's pulled it out. She doesn't even look around, only focuses on him, and he inhales deeply when she starts pressing her lips to his shaft and licks along his heated skin as if it's the only thing she wants to do right now.

Jealousy works for her...

He's never seen her this enthusiastic when sucking him off, and he watches her with growing admiration. She's quick to lather his length in her saliva, then closes her lips around his tip and sucks hard, tongue poking and flicking and lapping expertly, before she presses it against the underside of his cock and takes him deeper, hands braced on his thighs.

“Don't make a mess this time,” he tells her quietly, and she looks up at him from under her lashes, humming around his girth.

And indeed she tries, keeps most of her spit in her mouth, allows herself to swallow around him, pulls back more often to take deep breaths and lick around her lips before focusing back on his erection. Her hands move up to squeeze his base and his balls in a hypnotizing rhythm, and he catches himself groaning quietly at the sensations, hands clenching at his sides, neck rolling as he feels the tension building inside his stomach.

He refrains from gripping her hair and pulling her against him, he wants her to feel the rift between them, the possibility that he may not touch her but expects her to service him nonetheless. It's almost cruel. She's been so good, but seeing her reacting so strongly to him flirting with other women does things to him. It's empowering.

And she seems to feel it, looks up at him while taking his cock as deep as she allows herself without gagging, he feels the teasing grip of her throat, but she never pushes him deeper, focuses more on fondling the part of his length that doesn't fit into her mouth. It's a nice change, and he lets her, watches her with a forcibly neutral expression. She gives her all, licks and laps, nibbles and sucks, squeezes and massages, always holding his gaze even when tears well up in her eyes.

She's in the middle of bobbing her head when he feels the telltale twitch of his balls, and for this last moment, he allows himself to grab her head and pushes her all the way against him, ignoring the gurgles and muffled noises of protest as he comes down her throat, pumping spurt after spurt into her while holding her tightly, and she digs her fingers into his jeans, body shuddering as he robs her of oxygen.

Eventually he lets her lean back, his hand still in her hair, keeping her close, but allowing her to take deep, rasping breaths as she calms down slowly, and without him having to say anything, she continues her ministrations and cleans his length from any excess cum. Once he deems her done, he pries her hands off him and tucks his softening cock back into his underwear, then buttons up his jeans and closes his belt again, his eyes on the girl kneeling in front of him.

She's wiping at her mouth, but doesn't dare to move much. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he leans down and grabs her chin, tilting her head up, waiting. It takes her a moment, but then she mutters a soft little “Thank you”, and he nods, pulling her up into a standing position, his hand finding her warm cheek, his thumb pressing onto her bottom lip. She parts her lips obediently, and he lets her suck on his thumb for a moment, watching her eyes glazing over slightly.

Smoothing her hair with his other hand, he inhales deeply, just standing with her on the empty hallway, the surveillance camera in his back, both of them calming down eventually, even though she is still shivering, the toys buzzing away inside her. When she feels relaxed enough to grind her hips into his leg, he fists her hair and pulls her away from his thumb, and she whines quietly, but quickly gathers herself once more, mumbling a quick “Sorry”. He lets it slide for now, easing his grip before letting go completely.

Looking her over to make sure she's presentable (noticing the redness of her knees and the slight shine to her thighs but ultimately deems it acceptable), he then grabs her hand, takes a step and waits for her to catch up, before they stroll back to the main area of the mall. She looks up at him occasionally, waiting for the praise that never came, and he wants to pamper her so badly for being such a good girl for him, but she has to learn, remember that she's still being punished for disobedience, ungratefulness, and, newly added to the list, unreasonable jealousy.

She really has nothing to worry about in that department. He's found the perfect girl, his submissive little angel, he doesn't need another one, and he's never been so sure about anything before, not after such a short amount of time. It's risky, it's very unlike him to commit to something so fast, and it may not end well. But he doesn't care, for the moment he is (literally) satisfied, holding her hand, feeling her soft skin, those little twitches, the way her legs tremble, and how the sweet scent of her arousal tickles his nostrils...

He just came down her throat – and he can already feel his cock thickening all over again. That's the power this girl has over him. It's addictive. Why would he even look at another woman, unless he wanted to test her limits a little. Oh, he already knows he'll test them again, and again, if it results in her becoming even more submissive to him, grateful for his attention, happy that he chose her after all.

It's cruel and manipulative, but also too much fun to pass up. He'll make her jealous, fuel that possessive spark until it's spreading like wildfire. And when the world is burning around them, he'll hold her in his arms and tell her what a good girl she is. The only one for him.

EIGHTEEN 🟥 NINETEEN 🟥 TWENTY

End notes: We're continuing our descent into the dark world of jealousy. Buckle up, it'll get very bumpy in the next chapter which is also the finale of Season Two!

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Sunday!

TAG LIST: @untamedheart81 @qmsvpx @cyan1decandy @bimbos-are-angels @voiceactivated @reader-1290

CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE

SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾TEN

ELEVEN◾TWELVE◾THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN◾EIGHTEEN◾NINETEEN

AO3 / / / MASTERLIST

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Try, Try, and Try Again

Steven Grant x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Summary: Steven's always willing to try anything.

A/N: For @ingoldthewizard amazing idea of Troubleshooting but with Steven <3

Warnings: reader who has trouble orgasming by just penetration alone, overstimulation, oral sex mentioned, p in v sex, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 936

Steven moans sweetly, his eyes screwed up tight as he moves, focusing all his energy on the shallow thrusts of his hips. 

“You,” he swallows, his voice strained, “You okay, love?” 

You nod, your hands gripping the bedsheets under you. He opens his eyes a crack to look at your face, to check you’re okay.

Sweat covers your skin as you both rock and move against each other in an agonisingly slow rhythm. 

He’s right above you, one hand on your leg, the other on the headboard as he keeps you folded into a mating press, your knees hooked over his shoulders. He’d stacked pillows under your lower back before you’d started, before he’d made you scream and sob and come so hard against his mouth.

Your body burns, begs for extra stimulation as he moves within you. He doesn’t push in completely, just rubs the head of his cock along your spongy walls, repeatedly rocking against the spot inside that should theoretically line up with your clit. 

Steven had been methodical in his research, making lists of positions and toys that could hypothetically help you to come from just penetration alone. He’d had to stop a few times while on his ‘fact finding mission’, getting a little too hot under the collar thinking about being inside you. Most of these ‘breaks’ end up with you bouncing on his lap at his desk. 

It had been you who had brought it up to begin with, and Steven had been more than onboard once he was sure this was just something you were interested in and nothing to do with thinking negatively about yourself.

“You know I don’t care right, love? I don’t care that you need to be touched here,” he’d muttered in your ear, pulling you into his lap and snaking his hand down to rub at your clit over your clothes. “I love touching here. Love it. I just want you to feel good.” 

You’d nuzzled into his cheek before letting him tilt your head and lick greedily into your mouth. “I know Steven, I just… want to try.” You’d said, a little shyly. 

He’d smiled. “We can try. Anything for you. Especially, when I get to fuck you silly.” 

You’d laughed at the over the top expression he’d pulled while wiggling his eyebrows. 

Steven groans, the cords of muscle in his neck sticking out under the strain of holding himself back. “You’re so wet.” He gasps as he sinks a little deeper, quickly bites his lip as he mentally chastises himself before going back to the same motion. 

You whimper in response, it feels good, too good. You’re drawn so tight and on the edge of pleasure, if only you could just fall into it. Your clit throbs, crying out for the smallest stimulation that you know just isn’t coming. 

Steven grits his teeth as you clench around him, your walls trying to suck him deeper. He gasps with every stroke, the pressure on the tip of his cock making him lightheaded, the sounds of your wetness driving him mad. He so badly wants to give in, to play with your bundle of nerves so you’ll squirm and come so hard on his length. He wants to see your face as you fall into pleasure, he wants to hear your sweet, desperate moans. He needs it more than breathing. 

But he holds himself back. Keeps up that same repetition. 

You wriggle under him, the push of his thick cock is driving you out of your mind. You trust up to meet him a little harshly, trying to get him deeper as best you can. 

He moans again loudly, “Ah, love,” his hips stutter, his stomach muscles clenching as he manages to just stop from slipping further in. “Stop, you’re gonna make me…” he swallows thickly, “I won’t be able to stop.” 

“Please,” You sob, tears in the corners of your eyes and the anguish in your voice breaks his heart. “I need, I need it, please, I need to come, I can’t-” You cry out as Steven quickly moves his hand from your leg to rub soft circles on your clit as he thrusts his hips at the exact same moment. 

Your back aches as much as it can in your position and you throw your head back, whimpered ‘thank yous’ falling from your lips like a prayer. 

He sinks in quickly, groaning in relief as he rocks, sliding his thick length in and out of you in time with the circle of his fingers. 

“You did such a good job, love, so good, you’re so wonderful. It’s okay,” he groans, his voice thick with lust. “You can come now, can’t you? You can come for me.” 

You gasp, tensing as you seize up, pleasure exploding and blooming up your spine. You stammer out his name, grabbing at his arms desperately to ground yourself as he works you through it, rubbing and thrusting and muttering sweet, positive words. 

He slows down, planning on holding himself back so you can try again right after if you want to, but you squeeze his biceps. 

“Steven, please,” you pant, “Want you to come.” 

And he loses himself instantly. He comes hard, swearing as he spurts inside your pussy, thrusting rapidly and trying to get as deep as he physically can. 

He breathes heavily, quickly helping you to put your legs down and rubbing your sore muscles. 

“I’m sorry I didn-”

He kisses you hurriedly, stroking your cheeks. “Don’t ever be sorry for that love,” he presses his lips to yours again, softer this time. “You’re perfect.” 

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes @steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces

 @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie @silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin

@reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom @alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr 

@spxctorsslxt @novarosewood @pygmi-cygni @hammerhead96 @emma23 

@sub-aro @killerdollz @maplemind  @mwltwo @loonymagizoologist 

@dameronshandholder @queerly-anxious @homuraak3mi @swiftiegirliepop 

@oscarssimp @milkypompon @eternallyvenus @lounilu @avengersinitiative2012 

@pigeonmama @marcsb1tch @iolaussharpe-24 @chaithetics @DowBaStan

 @faretheeoscar @lonelyisamyw-0love  @queerponc @twwcs @Spnwhore2430 

@ominoose @ierofrnkk @have-you-seen-my-sanity @to-be-a-sunshine @blushingrn 

@missdictatorme @musicalnacho @ingoldthewizard

@hammerhead96 @emma23 @sub-aro @killerdollz

@mwltwo @loonymagizoologist @dameronshandholder @queerly-anxious

@homuraak3mi @swiftiegirliepop @oscarssimp @milkypompon @eternallyvenus 

@mandytrekkie @novarosewood @pygmi-cygni @purple-amaranthe @amasdaydream

@i-have-all-these-freakin-uwus @casa-boiardi @bookoffracturedescapes @pigeonmama

@theratscorner @krakenkitty @sergeant102105 @weekendgothgirl

@klillah @howellatme @mystic-writings @f0url3af @brunlocc @buckyssugarchick

@mari-thesimp @silvernight-m

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[hexite-nightmares]

My very unorganized thoughts on S2 of Arcane but only about Viktor

Alright I finally had time to think and write everything down so here we go. I want to preface that I have been weary about this season ever since I watched the act 1 leaks. Mainly because it was very clear he was never going to be a machine, and they didn't give him enough screen time to develop his motivations into ACT 3 Viktor being convincing enough

LET'S START WITH THE FALSE PROPHET VIKTOR

Alright so he has about 11 minutes ish of screentime. Aside from the glaring issue of Jayce reviving him and not destroying the hexcore, taking away agency from a disabled character. It was clearly a false prophet situation, but it was so fucking confusing on whether he could feel like a regular human, if he was under the Hexcore's control which makes the agency issue worse or just jaded. He all of a sudden starts speaking like he's reading Deuteronomy passages ?? We don't know for sure if he's aware that he's basically creating a hive mind now, did he start his plans of making everyone into one right here? Sky seems to encourage him to do this, what does she know about it since shes been in the hexcore ALONE for a little longer? (writers didnt confirm whether it was the real her or not) . Act 1 Viktor's issues are mostly about agency, and a seeming full abandonment of his identity as a scientist, his personality does a full 180. He doesn’t seem to question that the object that revived him and killed Sky is giving him healing powers, but he’s angry at Jayce so we have no clue if he’s being controlled or not.

The show doesn't seem to care to spend time with him bc Isha and Ambessa I guess.

Anyways lets move on to not even act 2, but ep 6, his only episode in this act.

I had huge gripes with this episode, mainly because whatever the fuck was going on with Viktor trying to "keep" Vander's humanity, when he clearly was taking it away from everyone he touched, does he actually believe what he's saying or is he under the Hexcore's control still?. Obviously the glaring issues of Sky being there without any actual input, they're cosmic friends I guess but with very generic lines, and the fandom has to fill in the blanks with whatever Amanda Overton feels like saying about Sky in the moment(if we don't see it in the show I don't take it as her development, sorry). So Viktor builds Colloidal silver drinking Joshua tree and ppl think it's fucking Eden, Jinx calls him a Machine Herald when there's NO SIGN OF MACHINERY JUST PURPLE MAGICAL METAL LOOKING FLESH. We get a whole ass different realm with no explanation other than, oh yeah Viktor is inside there. Jayce comes in and almost kills him. The only option there is at this point is for Singed to start his MH era. The choice of becoming MH is nonexistent now, other people have to jumpstart things for him. I know some people interprete this commune as Viktor achieving his dreams, thinking he was being himself, that he was in paradise with Sky and.. that wasn’t the case for me.. it was extremely sinister. Worst part of this Act, is that MH was seemingly a damn trial experiment for Orianna.

BONUS:

So it seems that Christian Linke has confirmed Sky was the hexcore using its influence to manipulate viktor into the glorious evolution. He said it was meant to be as a misdirect. So to everyone who got dunked on here for “wanting to be spoonfed” or “not reading into it deep enough” for thinking he was being mind controlled, you were right about it being the hexcore. Viktor has been confirmed to have no agency until episode 9 I guess. He also mentioned Viktor’s goal was getting the most power/influence… we never saw a fucking glimpse of this in season one I’m sorry.

ACT 3

First awful problem here is obviously Singed having to jumpstart things. Viktor is aware for his choice of whatever is happening with the egg thing. Yet....there's still no sign of machinery. We get a scene where Sky fucking dies again, he refers to her as Ms Young, which im guessing is a parallel to the other time he dismissed her in S1. But of course we get the double fridging in the show, cuz making female characters just for the sake of advancing her crush's plot line is sooo amazing. Here lies sky, the character who is barely a character. Well after that we get the sequence of his transformation and we get that butt ugly mask. His personality does another huge change again. So we know the hexcore is not influencing him anymore as the hexcore completed its goal of the glorious evolution.. so I guess viktor really does think this is the right way?

A huge issue I have again, is the lack of agency. In this particular scene Jayce goes "My partner died in this room" yeah..Viktor didn't fully choose to become this right? it all started with Jayce using the hexcore on him, it’s been manipulating him the whole ass season…Kinda wish there was some sort of acknowledgement from Jayce that he’s basically the catalyst of this.

He gets his laser because...fanservice. There's no way he went all the way to the lab and magically attached it to himself just to cut off a wall. He keeps going on that choice is false, but a few minutes before he said he’d evolve all of those willing?

In the cosmos, beautiful sequence. I don’t love Jayce’s dialogue choices(about his disease) here and then it all being about viktor hating himself.. since the hexcore was leading to all of this, his motivation for it all being self hatred feels a bit eh. The sequence is beautiful and Jayce and Viktor destroying the anomaly with the rune shard is nice, that part was cute. But then they kinda disappear and we only know that viktor is alive so far, no clue about Jayce. The sequence is touching towards the end and I’m a sucker for characters finding each other in every timeline/universe but it can’t make up for all the other things that are bothering me. This seems to be the one time Viktor has some sort of agency I guess.

Then obviously the worst part that will bother me forever. The thing that made me almost slam my laptop shut

This retcon is just awful I shouldn’t even have to say why, it makes things fucking weird and it’s frankly stupid. Also viktor can’t rock a beard like that.

Anyways this is very disorganized, fuck you riot I felt like an insane former this whole time but I was right.