#and then at that point i just *had* to play with lighting

[ultramaga]

", a pew research center study found that 60% identify as moderate or liberal" Not linked, no definition supplied, Leftists call anyone not a Leftist a Nazi - or if they feel generous, they might, as you did, say Nazi-adjacent. "Liberal" is an empty noise where a word used to be, with contradictory definitions. Meanwhile, even Leftist propaganda outlets are conceding the tide is changing.

"parties such as Emmanuel Macron centrist party have taken more progressive views" Progress towards what, exactly? Because Progress used to mean the inevitable spread of America across the globe. Then the Marxists said Progress meant the West would fall to communism before the East. Then Progress suddenly became the castration of children. Progress is a buzzword, a space where ideas used to be. It is undefined, like "woman". "In Spain's socialist party(PSOE) which has once been considered center left" By WHO? You keep making claims with no substantiation. It is a socialist party. For it to do socialist things, like declaring that socialism means everyone can sit about and the work will somehow do itself, is par for the course. Socialists promise whatever it takes to get into power, because the foundational statement is "Reality is a Social Construct". That is, control people's minds and you control reality. Consensus is all. Which is why you get absurdities like arguing that 2+2 might equal five and that humans have an infinite number of sexes. Socialism has no interest in what humanity regards as truth, it only cares about power, and sees everything as involved in power only. The personal is political because EVERYTHING is political. Which is why all Leftist art devolved to dull propaganda.

Imagine there is a gif from the game Concord here. Tumblr doesn't have one. BECAUSE EVEN SOCIALISTS DON'T PLAY SOCIALIST GAMES. SOCIALISM MAKES FOR STUPID AND BORING ENTERTAINMENT, BECAUSE IT DEMANDS EVERYTHING BE A BORING SERMON.

But the numbers don't lie. Overwhelmingly, the numbers can be seen on Steam etc. Socialist games fail, capitalist games succeed.

Socialism inevitably fails - the only achievement it ever has is in destruction, and that only succeeds up to the point where it alienates people so successfully that they shoot socialists on sight.

Frankly, I don't think that is far off.

In fact, a quick look at the Leftism tag finds post after post inciting terrorist attacks. Leftists want, they demand, blood. Because they can't win without violence, without killing all those people who use logic and evidence.

Leftists declared they would punch "Nazis", despite the NSDAP being dead long before any of them were born. They just assaulted or killed anyone they deemed an opponent - and mostly, only if they could catch them alone and unarmed. The rioters steered far clear of the States where citizens could defend themselves. Leftists NEED the citizens to be helpless before they can succeed. Antifa is already a terrorist organisation in many countries. How long until they are shot on sight in America?

Donald J. Trump

@realDonaldTrump

"The United States of America will be designating ANTIFA as a Terrorist Organization."

I think people's patience is running dry. The declaration by Leftists that they will be sexually targetting children was a step too far, and their inability to talk to anyone outside their bubble means that they can no longer stay in contact with mainstream humanity.

When Leftists insisted that children attend their sex shows, it became clear that this had nothing to do with gay rights and everything to do with perverts seizing power.

Perverts in charge of nuclear arsenals. Thanks to Leftism.

https://www.houstonchronicle.com/lifestyle/article/houston-designer-says-ex-biden-staffer-stole-17803723.php

Now, don't get me wrong, Biden's Pardon Party means many Leftists will never be charged for their crimes against humanity, but the People aren't going to forgive the folks who raped their kids that easily, nor will they forgive the ones who covered for them. Remember when mentioning Hunter Biden's laptop would get your account closed on social media, because it was official policy that only a Nazi would claim that Hunter Biden did drugs? And now Daddy Biden pardons him for year after year of crimes. After years of saying he wouldn't do it. I understand that the corruption and decadence of Leftism will take years to sweep away, but you know what? The brooms are being readied. Pronouns are already disappearing from bios in the Democrats. OAC was just ahead of the curve.

The Young Turks suddenly abandoned Leftism, although Ana had clearly been unhappy with it for years, and had clearly cheered on Trump as the votes began to tally.

Go back and watch Ana the first time Trump won, and compare that to the second time.

Across the globe, the tide is turning.

I have said it before - I think Leftism is escalating, and it will inevitably become just another terrorist organisation, like The Weathermen. What's that? You've never heard of them? Because they escalated to violence, and then were shot? Yes. Nobody cares about The Weathermen, and soon, nobody will give a damn about the Leftists. Their day is done.

I understand - there will always be evil in the world. It will revive in some new form. But the castration cultists always had a timer ticking. There's no future in a movement that tries to stop the birth of children. Humanity will not agree with its own destruction.

if you voted for trump, block me. you're a horrible fucking person.

[lambilegs]

a secret surprise (sevika x reader)

۶ৎ contains: fluff and smut (so minors dni!!), sevika has a dick, ringing in christmas with some nasty sloppy sex, breeding kink (+ pregnancy talk but it's all just roleplay, sev and reader aren't actually trying to get pregnant), reader's body is referred to w the following terms: "pussy," "cunt," "clit," "hole," reader and sev banter A LOT (v much feisty!reader-coded), degrading kink (terms used include: "slut," "whore," "cumslut"), begging, edging and teasing, light humiliation kink, daddy kink (just as a title), reader is called "girl" and "(house)wife"

۶ৎ divider by: @u1traviolxnt

۶ৎ note: just a tadddd late on a christmas-themed fic LOLL I hope all who celebrated had a great christmas, while those who don't had their own wonderful day too <33 for those whose christmases weren't the most warm or fuzzy, I hope you all get to find some relief soon, and that things ease up and you get to experience peaceful days ahead. please take care of yourselves and try to engage in things that bring you a bit of happiness-- ofc though it's also entirely understandable if you need some time to just rest your body and mind, and if so, I'm proud of you for giving yourself that time <3

۶ৎ comments and asks letting me know what you think are always appreciated!! <3 would love to hear mwahhh

from your corner in the room, you watch sevika move about the living room. she's the picture of respect when it comes to your family -- not that that's much of a surprise. she knows how to keep things polite and levelled when necessary, a practice honed from many hours of working one-on-one with her boss, silco. honestly, you're kind of impressive. sure, she's always been someone pretty reserved upon first meeting, but with your family, she's also cordial, helping around when needed and even tolerating some of your older relatives' cheesy jokes and long, seemingly never-ending anecdotes. she even watches over some of the younger kids at one point, sitting by and making sure none of them get harmed. if they bother her with inane questions, she'll give one-worded answers, and half-heartedly play with them if they bug her enough.

that's not to say she's completely absent of her usual attempts to irk you, though. when no one's looking, she pinches the side of your waist, igniting a yelp that has several heads whirling in your direction. once the shock has died down, you smack her arm with a glare, hissing, "I hate you." when everyone is moving to the kitchen to fill their plates with food, she snakes a hand down and playfully squeezes your ass, catching you with a mischievous laugh when you stumble. when you're washing dishes in the kitchen while everyone else does karaoke and plays games out in the living room, she saunters in, leaning on the wall and watching you. when you ask her if everything is okay, she slides behind you, wrapping her strong arm around your waist and nuzzling into your jaw, pressing some warm kisses there.

"have I impressed you?" she asks, her low voice making you clench down. between the travelling, all the last-minute preparations that have commenced since, and separate bedrooms, you two have barely had time to have sex this week.

"mhm," you hum, trying to ignore the throb between your thighs. "I'm proud of you, sevi."

she sighs against your skin, and you can feel the way her body loosens against yours. she's clearly relieved.

"didn't think you'd be that worried," you coo. "you trying to get their blessing or something?"

she scoffs against your hair. "I don't need their blessing." her warm palm, which has been rubbing on your stomach, slows down. "but, I'd like for them to... you know, at least approve a little."

you're unable to resist the smile that creeps onto your face. despite her little tough act, you know your girlfriend does care about this kind of stuff. she's careful and thinks about your guys' future far more than she lets on, and like it or not, she's wrapped around your finger. if you'd like for her to do something, even if it's something as old-school as win your family's approval, she's gonna do it. 

"what, in case you wife me up?" you giggle, scrubbing away at a bowl with some particularly dry, stubborn stains. 

"don't tell me you're expecting a proposal."

"it would be kind of romantic to do it on christmas eve," you say matter-of-factly.

"except we're not in a damn hallmark movie," she snickers. "besides," she continues, her husky voice lowering as her mouth draws close to your ear, "if I propose to you, it's gonna be when we're alone."

you gulp, just the notion of being alone with her after such a momentous event doing something to you. "why?"

her fingers trail down your stomach, sliding between your thighs. you hiss at the boldness of her touch, your hips bucking when she presses her fingers against you through the layers of fabric. "because I wanna be able to give you the marriage experience that night."

"of course your horny ass immediately thinks of sex when it comes to the 'marriage experience,'" you drawl, the last two words coated in mockery. 

"oh, come on, you're telling me you aren't thinking of it right now?" she chuckles, the noise of it deep and wrapped in velvet. "doing the dishes like a good little housewife while I take care of you." her words are punctuated with the firmer rubs she's beginning to push into your clothed core.

you gasp softly, but still try to proceed with your counterarguments. sevika always has people right in the palm of her hand, and since you two have met, you've relished in giving her a hard time. "I'm anything but a housewife, you know that."

"just humour me a bit." she licks a long stripe along your neck, and you grip the bowl so hard you worry for a split second that it'll break. "like I did for you when we played boss-and-secretary the other night."

just the mention of your little night of roleplaying has you biting back a moan. sevika had looked downright sinful in her unbuttoned shirt and loosened tie, cock plunging into you as she sucked on your tits and landed spank after spank on your ass, muttering about how you were such a slutty subordinate. 

"well, you enjoyed that if I remember correctly," you breathe out, the words less firm and more shaky than you'd like.

"and you're telling me you don't enjoy this little fantasy? letting me spoil that cunt rotten after a long day of playing house."

the sudden filth of her words has you bucking uncontrollably and she laughs quietly, her hips smacking right back into yours. "that's enough to get you going, huh?"

"fuck you," you whisper. 

her hand releases some of the pressure it had against your mound. "such a nasty mouth. and on christmas eve too?"

you snort. "sorry, I forgot you're father christmas."

her teeth graze the lobe of your ear and you sigh in pleasure. "last time I checked, you called me something else -- though, it is kind of close to 'father.'"

you're about to retort when a sudden pound of footsteps down the hall has you yanking away from sevika, your girlfriend stepping to the side just in time for when your aunt barges in. she makes small talk with sevika as she retrieves glasses from the cabinet, luckily sparing you as you duck your head down, pointedly latching your eyes onto the sink.

when she leaves, you shoot sevika a glare. "jesus, at this rate, you're gonna do something so bad that I can never show my face here again."

"you didn't seem to mind much."

you roll your eyes. "well, it was a moment of weakness." clearly, considering you can feel the thick juices leaking from your hole now.

"been having a lot of those lately."

you ignore her because, unfortunately, she's very right. sevika can read your body like a book, and therefore, in spite of your curses and rebuttals throughout the day, she’s taken notice of every pleasured reaction her touch evokes. from the flinch of your hips, to the puff of air that shoots from your mouth, to the way you immediately grind against her hand. 

not that you guys can do much about it.

at least, that's what you think until a soft knock flows through the space of your childhood bedroom that night. 

you tentatively rise up, quietly calling out, "yeah?"

when sevika walks in, her lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk, you jerk back in surprise. "what the hell? sevi, I--"

you're immediately cut off with her broad body crawling over yours, pinning you down to the bed. without a moment's hesitation, her lips capture yours, tongue immediately slipping in and swirling around yours. you squeeze your eyes shut at the sloppiness of it, her lips massaging yours with slow purposefulness. she pulls back, flattening her tongue and roving it along the curves and plush of your lips, catching the bottom one under her teeth and nipping at it. 

you gasp sharply at the sting, delightfully mixed in pain and pleasure. she tugs on it, stretching it out before letting it go and sucking on it slowly, spit dribbling from her mouth to yours. "sevi, why are you..."

"it's getting too much," she grunts. "I need -- fuck, I need you."

you slide your hands under the itchy fabric of the ugly christmas sweater you got her three days ago. it’s supposed look funny, weird even, but instead, it just emphasizes her broad shoulders and hugs her biceps just right. it's almost annoying how hot your girlfriend is.

"awe, is someone getting needy?" you tease, your point embarrassingly met with a hitch of your breath when she starts planting soft, wet kisses down the slope of your neck, pausing to suck on the spot under your ear.

"says the one who was practically dry humping me in the kitchen."

"only because you jumped me first!" you quietly snap, tugging on her short hair so that she meets your accusatory gaze. "just like now. in my childhood bedroom," you add in a deadpan tone.

"and?" her teeth flash at you in the dim lighting, her adorable little gap making your stomach flip. "you're telling me you don't like this?" her hand strokes along your stomach, reaching your breast with a tight squeeze that sends you arching, your nipple's contact with both her firm palm and the fabric of your sweater making it tingle. "the idea of getting corrupted in this bed? getting fucked by me when you know you shouldn't?"

your body twists, arousal pooling between your legs as a slew of lewd words continue to spill from her mouth as she tweaks and pinches your nipple, the sharp sting of it shooting through your chest. "so many people in this house, and here you are, being so needy and wanting."

you bite your lip. "sevi, baby, we-- we shouldn't. I -- mmph, what if someone catches us?"

"no one will if you keep quiet." she lifts your sweater up, eyes practically gleaming at the sight of your tits. she ducks her head down, her mouth encircling one of your nipples, tongue lapping it gently, the warm wetness of it making your pussy ache. your tits are so sensitive, nipples hard and aching from the chill of the night, and the hot cavern of sevika's mouth is making you lost in the mix of temperatures and sensations. her tongue is so soft, gliding so easily over the bud. she skims her teeth along the edges, clamping a hand over your mouth before you can make any noise. 

"fuck, god," you whisper, hands digging into her hair as you keep her pressed to your chest. 

"pretty blasphemous of you to say during a holiday."

you glare at her for the playful comment, wrenching out of her hand’s grip on your face. "please, like you're even religious."

"I'd consider it if it gives me the authority to punish you."

"like you even require an authoritative position to do that."

her teeth sink into the soft flesh of your neck and you clamp your lips up together. "you've got a point there, baby." she scrapes her teeth gently down your neck, one of her thick fingers tugging down your sweater to suck a bruising mark into your chest. "you're my slut whenever, aren't you?"

with the way her mouth is lavishing attention on you, it's hard to continue being a brat with her. you want more of this, and you’re well aware that sevika possesses more than enough self-restraint to draw out your pleasure all night long if she so wishes it. even if she does have a boner pressed right up against your thigh. 

"mm, I am," you mumble against the crown of her head, her black hair tickling your lips as you stroke it. "I'm your slut, sevi."

"there you go. wasn't so hard, huh?" she pulls back, tugging on the bottom of your sweater. 

when you remove it, breasts bouncing out, sevika buries her face in your fully naked chest, licking and gnawing like a woman starved. your body arches up at the harshness of her touch, her large hand groping and pulling you into her mouth. your squirming causes your thigh to brush right up against her hard-on, and she grits her teeth at the contact.

"you're so hard, baby," you giggle, hand escaping to her crotch and cupping her through her flannel pajama pants (which, yes, totally match yours).

"fuck," she mutters, her head pressing into your chest. the moist heat of her panting gets your skin warm and toasty, and you shiver from the contrast of it to the rest of your body. "god, I've needed this."

"then, put it in, dumbass," you whisper, your words edged with soft laughter. 

a smirk cracks on sevika's face. "maybe I have been going too easy on you, since there's so much room for backtalk."

ugh, oh, no.

minutes later, both of your pants are tossed into some corner of your bedroom, sevika grinding her bare dick on your pussy. it's firm, hardened with arousal, and the more she presses against you, the more you drip, coating her dick with your juices. whenever it nudges against your swollen clit, you writhe in her embrace, tugging on the material of her sweater for more.

"sevi, please, please," you mumble against her lips, pressing mindless little pecks against them. 

she flicks her tongue along your mouth, breaths heavy. as much as she may try to act like this isn't affecting her, you can feel the tension coiling in her body and how hard she's trying to resist taking you. 

"tell me you've been bad. tell me why you deserve this." 

her mouth is curved into a wicked grin, clearly amused at having you cornered like this. she knows the length of her dick rubbing into the plush, soaked lips of your pussy isn’t nearly enough, and she's clearly determined to have you pathetic and begging before she goes inside.

"ugh," you groan, tossing an arm over your eyes. "fine, I've, um--"

she grips your wrist, pulling it away. "eyes on me."

you shoot her a glare -- well, at least as best as your can manage with the smooth skin of her stroking against your clit. forcing yourself to undergo the embarrassment of locking eyes with her, her amusement thinly veiled with the way her grey eyes are flashing, you continue. "I've been a bad girl. and I, uh, I deserve to be... fucked because, um, I've worked so hard this week and I'm so tired and so wound up and I-- fuck, sevi, I miss you, you idiot."

a huff of laughter quietly slides from her lips, and she pecks your chin. "have you now?"

"sevi, come on," you whine, digging your nails into her lower back, trying to pull her further into you. "I need it, please. sevi, please, I need it, daddy."

her eyes flutter shut at the title, hips jerking harder, which has you both biting back noises tantalizingly close to bursting from your mouths. "fuck, you're lucky you're cute."

she sits up on her knees and positions her dick, rubbing on some lube she snuck in from her suitcase (when she reveals the bottle to you, you grumble at the fact that she just knew she'd manage to convince you to fuck in here). inch by inch, the girth of her stretches out your hole, creating a pleasant, dull ache as your walls tighten around her, accommodating her size. through it, she rubs circles onto your clit, nodding quietly to encourage you on. if you were in the seclusion of your home, she'd be saying filthy words and praises, motivating you to take her in. but, in this position, where she's too far to whisper against your ear, all you get are her hushed words of, "okay?" and, "you ready for more?"

after you adjust, you yank sevika by her collar and she unceremoniously flops onto you, evoking a burst of laughter from you as she narrows her eyes at you, murmuring, "was that necessary?"

"mhm, I got to have pleasure and a comedy show."

she scoffs. "glad to be of service, I guess."

your giggles fade out as she meets your gaze, her pretty eyes soft and creased from the small smile on her face. you cup her face and bring her closer to you, gently kissing her. sevika returns the gesture, her lips amorous and slow as her cock, heavy in your hole, twitches. 

when you part, you whisper, "you gonna move or what?"

apparently, she isn’t in the mood for a challenge, for ten minutes later, she's pumping into you, your old headboard creaking and bumping lightly against the wall as sevika fucks you quietly. in your twin bed, the two of you are cramped up in the limited space, but you couldn't care less. you relish in being this close to your girlfriend, her strong arm wrapped around your body and holding you close to her as your guys’ skin smacks together, the sticky sweat produced from your efforts creating a wet squelch. 

"mmph, daddy," you whine against sevika's ear, nuzzling close to her face and biting on her ear, which ignites a sharp intake of breath from her. "feels so good."

"yeah, princess?" she rasps, her voice hushed. "you like feeling my dick split you open like this? getting fucked and keeping quiet so no one finds out what a slut you are?"

you dig your nails further into her back, raking them along the muscular length of it. her dick has you feeling so full, plugging your hole up in a weight that's so comfortable and familiar. the deep, satisfied ache flows through the entirety of your pussy, from the widened rim of your hole to your clit to your thighs, which are clenched tightly around her slim waist.  

"I'm your slut, daddy," you gasp against her ear. "I love being your slut, letting you fuck me till I'm filled with come."

"oh, yeah?" she chuckles. "is that what you want? for me to fuck my come into this tight little hole?"

"yes, yes, daddy." your hips buck up to meet hers, the pleasure making it hard to not flinch and jerk at the way it rolls through you. 

nasty little squelches roll through the room from the way your juices slosh around her dick, droplets slipping out every time her cock rocks out and only the tip is hugged by your entrance. when she pounds back into you, her balls smack against you, and the weight of them has you nearly squealing in pleasure, thoughts of how come-filled they are overtaking your brain. 

you wrap your legs around her, the lift of your hips causing the tip of her cock to hit your g-spot. the pointed curve of it nudging against the spongey softness has a deep, tingling sensation flooding your insides. your mouth hangs open, a small moan choking out of you. 

sevika, still thrusting into you, raises her head up and covers your mouth with hers, shoving her tongue in as your sweaty bodies push and pull together. she breathes out, "so fucking mouthy, even in bed."

you're so turned on that her bullying only has you tightening on her, which, of course, observant woman she is, immediately arouses an arch of her eyebrow. "does my girl like that? hearing about how you're such a noisy cumslut? just begging and babbling for some come to be leaking out of your pretty cunt?"

"f-fuck," you stumble over your words, head tossing into your pillow, eyes squeezing shut. "please, daddy, please, want it so bad."

"I know, baby, I know. give it to me, yeah?" she coaxes, her rough thumb beginning to stroke your stiff bud side to side, having mastered the pressure and speed that'd get you tipping over the edge. "wanna feel you milk it out of me."

"I will, I will!" your torso arches against her, tits rubbing the rough fabric of her stupid, patterned shirt. "m'gonna come so good for daddy."

"yeah, you will, gonna let your pussy latch onto all that come till these sheets are fucking drenched." she speeds up her thrusts, your mind going dizzy and weak at the mixed sensations of her pushes into your g-spot and fast flicks against your clit. "gonna be so fucking embarrassing tomorrow, to have to come up with some excuse for why these sheets are so nasty."

"it's your fault too!"

her voice, rough and heavy, is practically mesmerizing when combined with the surges of ecstasy shooting through your body. "guess I am just as bad, right? can't go too long without trying to get you knocked up."

those words are enough to shove your over the edge, your walls beginning to clamp down on her cock relentlessly as the tension in your stomach snaps, sending waves of hot, molten lust coursing through your body. you bite onto the material of sevika's clothing, muffled whines bursting from your lips as she continues rutting into you and rubbing insistently on your clit, tugging out more and more pleasure until you're sated and batting her hand away. meanwhile, she's shuddering on top of you, the sensation of your orgasm clearly taking its toll on her.

"please, please." you wrap your arms around her back, pliant and soft as the exhaustion of your orgasm wears you down. your pussy is sopping even more now, sevika's dick moving in and out with ease. "come, daddy. sevi, please. wanna feel how warm it is."

"fuck," she curses, her fingers digging hard into your waist. "gonna get you so loaded. gonna look like such a whore, leaving this trip nice and pregnant."

her words have your aftershocks heightened, your pussy clenching down on her cock again. the moment it happens, sevika's body jerks hard against yours, her last thrusts messy and running on pure instinct, deep and rough. she stills on the third one, her mouth falling open as she trembles, her come shooting into you, sticky and hot, coating your walls and making you feel entirely smeared and tainted.

you clutch onto her through it, your clit aching at the feeling of her load being pumped into you, streams of it leaking into your tight hole as she half-heartedly jerks into you a few more times. 

"shit," she mutters, her body heaving as she catches her breath. "that was good."

"good?" you ask, your lips quirking up. "you sound like you're talking about mittens."

she rolls her eyes. "sorry, was I supposed to pull out a dictionary to compliment our sex life?"

you look away, pouting. well, you aren't that demanding.

"baby," she murmurs, kissing your cheek. "it was amazing, alright?" she grunts softly, nuzzling into your neck. "you know it just makes me, you know, to say these things."

"I think the word you're looking for is 'shy,' sevi."

she clears her throat. "well, sure." a moment later, she looks up at you, her face pure magic when coated with the blue light wandering through your windows. "it was really fucking good, okay?"

a sudden shyness seizes at you, your lips curling up as your eyes dart away. "I'm glad. it was amazing for me too. it's just, I need to hear that, you know. from you."

"I know." another quiet kiss lands on your chin. "I'm trying for you. that's not gonna stop."

"you're sweet." you run a hand through her hair, pausing to look down at her, smile widening. "hope it didn't hurt your rep to hear that."

she snickers, though her lips curve up ever-so-slightly. "eh, my rep isn't that fragile. nothing a few words can break."

"true. you being pussydrunk is probably what'll break it."

"actually, I thought it's what'll break you."

you flick her forehead, giggling at the little pout she makes without realizing. "so cocky. at this rate, you're gonna get on the naughty list."

she hums, stroking your hips. "I already got my present, so it's okay."

your face warms at the tender words. "I got mine too." you tug on her hair, bringing her up for a kiss. "merry christmas, sevi."

she meets your lips with a smile.

[eintausendschoen]

YAY! Poseidon sketch-dump with everything that has accumulated over the last weeks. I love playing around with different forms and designs for him, but sooomehow he mostly ends up 🍑 ...

Designs 1 and 2: First one is the one I use in 'Queen of Shipbreaker Shoal', second one more based on canon / @wolfythewitch's design with the glowy parts.

Design 3: That's me making a literal creepy cryptid seahorse out of him 🙈

Design 4: What design? 👀 - nah, kidding. There was clothing at one point in the sketch, I swear, but the pose and lighting got so complicated I just gave up on adding any fabric.

Design 5: A friend gifted me new brushes and had me test them on @arraunean's Poseidon, because we are both fawning over him like Edwardian noble girls... 😳 - yes he is wearing a crown that counts as clothing leave me alone!

[xxgoldie]

let me spoil you

in which Lighter gets spoilt to filth on his birthday wc: 2.3k cw / notes: lighter x afab!reader, explicit (MDNI!!), sub!lighter but the d/s dynamics are minor, reader wears lingerie, body worship, light bondage (on lighter), p in v sex, raw sex, riding, light marking, nipple play, edging, dacyrphilia if you squint ig?, giving lighter the love he DESERVES

"I don't want to be greedy," Lighter teased, mouth breaking from yours and looking up at where you were sat on his lap, "but wasn't I promised one more birthday present?"

You let out a breathless giggle as his hands slid up your dress, and another at the ill-concealed confusion on his face when his fingers found the cotton of your usual underwear. It was true - you'd been hinting for days about a special extra present, not trying to hide that you'd bought some new lingerie for this occasion. His eyes had been scanning you all day, unashamedly imagining in the back of his mind what lacy creation you had on under your clothes as festivities with the gang went on.

"It's not really one I could wear underneath," you explained, yet another laugh escaping as you watched the cogs turn in his mind, adding the new information to whatever mental algorithm was guessing what you had prepared for him - cute, like he hadn't been grinding up into you so sinfully just seconds before, "but also... there's something I'd like to try today, if you're up for it."

"Oh? What's that, baby?" Lighter's tone was playful, but the look in his eye was filled with so much love. Bedroom or not, there were very few things he wouldn't try if it was for you - besides, since you'd chosen his birthday to ask, he figured you had something good for him.

"I want to tie you up."

Oh. That wasn't the sort of thing he'd expected. But he also hadn't expected that his first instinct would be excitement - sure, you'd taken the lead in bed before, but having that much control over him? Lighter swallowed thickly - god, that was so hot. Not what he'd had in mind for today, but hot.

"Not, like, a lot. And we don't have to! It's up to you, obviously-" you said, his momentary silence making you backtrack.

"Hey, breathe, babe, I'm not against it," Lighter's hand, still resting at the hemline of your panties, rubbed against your skin reassuringly. His words were chosen carefully, keeping the idea on the table without seeming too excited. He maintained a certain persona - one that, for the most part, crumbled the second you got him alone, but some instinct kept a few bricks of that wall up, not wanting to let out that being at your complete mercy sounded like heaven to him. "It's just... not what I expected. Doesn't the cliche go that you'd be the one tied up as a present for me?"

"Yeah, I know. But I know you, Lighter. You're far too good to me," you pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, "And if I let you have your way with me, you're just going to be thinking about making me feel good. It's your birthday, I want to make it all about you- and do not even start about how you feel good when I do, that's not the point."

Slight surprise crossed Lighter as those exact words died on his tongue. You knew him so well, knew exactly how he loved you and how to love him back, all his rough spots and weak points, so you knew exactly where to push to make his last dregs of hesitation fly out the window, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

"Let me spoil you, birthday boy"

That's all it took for him to nod in agreement, following your instructions to get undressed and wait for you in the bedroom while you got changed. If he hadn't agreed before, the moment you came out in that lingerie, lacy white accented with black frills and bows, a sheer babydoll overtop that explained why you couldn't wear it under your dress, he'd have agreed in a heartbeat. Lighter tended to be weak to your every whim, but especially when your body was on display for him.

You'd arranged restraints as well, soft red rope with golden fastenings, and laughed as you fought off his attempts to touch and kiss you all over in that outfit, decidedly distracted despite the plans he himself had just agreed to, and fairly adept at distracting you, though not enough to stop his legs from being tied to opposing ends of the footboard, spread out, while one rope tied his wrists together and to the headboard above him. Fully exposed, and laid bare for you.

You were straddled across him now, resting on his chest just shy of where his dick, fully hard at this point, strained against his lower abdomen, your lips pressing kiss after kiss along his jaw, neck, collarbone. Tucked into your bra was a tube of lipstick, a shade of red you knew he adored on you, which you'd been using to litter his skin with red kiss marks, a pretty medley with the occasional purple mark you'd sucked onto him. You'd re-applied the product to your lips twice by now.

"Baby..." Lighter breathed, looking up at you with a frustrated pout. He'd meant it to sound warning, but it came out as more of a whine, the complete lack of attention to his leaking cock getting him increasingly desperate. The restraints on his legs kept any thrust of his hips from being meaningful, the ones on his hands stopped him from pulling you down lower. Not to mention, it was driving him insane not to touch you, seeing you looking so delectable and feeling your crotch on his chest and lips against his skin but nothing against his fingers.

"What?" you feigned innocence, but your gaze was lidded as you sat up and admired your masterpiece. Your nails raked lightly against his skin, just short of hard enough to graze him as they traveled lower. "I want to take my time with you."

Your nail caught on his nipple, drawing a sharp breath from his lips. You took the cue, lips finally reaching below his collarbone to close around the bud. A deep groan, his chest arching into your touch at the playful swirl of your tongue, two of your fingers rolling the other one. His breathing was heavy, hitching on every harsher tug or light suck as he tried to conceal just how sensitive you had him by now. But your mouth didn't stay put for long, the allure of leaving even more pretty red kiss marks on him simply too great. Still tweaking his nipple, you trailed kisses upwards, outlining the large jagged scar across his shoulder.

"You're so beautiful," you breathed against his skin, sitting up once again, eyes raking shamelessly over his body. The only thing he could get out was a choked moan, your words coinciding with a sharp pinch to his nipple. "Literally so perfect."

You really made his head spin - 'hot' and 'handsome' he heard often enough, and you called him 'cute' a lot, but 'beautiful'? Lighter wasn't sure anyone had called him beautiful before, especially not while lathing the reminders of his ugly past with affection that was simultaneously too much and not enough. He could only buck his hips fruitlessly, just short of the touch he needed to both release the tension and distract him from just how in love he felt, a feeling so overwhelming it scared him a little.

"You're amazing, Lighter-" you continued between kisses to his chest, "-so amazing-" your lipstick was basically gone now, a few smudges left around your mouth, but you didn't seem bothered about reapplying it this time, more concerned with kissing every possible inch of his skin, "-it is such a privilege to love you-" your mouth trailed lower, and amazingly, for the first time, so did the rest of your body, slowly sliding down his abdomen to give yourself more room "-and I'll tell you every opportunity I get-" and finally, finally you slid down low enough that you were seated on his dick "-I love you-" another kiss "-I love you-" and another "-I love you-" and suddenly your face was in front of his and you kissed him on the lips, greedily swallowing his groan as you roll your hips against his.

And it was all too much - the damp friction that he had been moments away from begging for, every word and touch you blessed him with, the ever-sweet sensation of your lips moving against his so deeply and tenderly - and when you finally pulled away, you could see the faint wet trail of a couple tears along his face, olive eyes glossy and looking up at you as if you were the answer to his every prayer. Still, a look of worry washed over you at the tears, movement of your hips stilling as you brushed the wetness away with your thumb.

"Are you okay?" you asked, and Lighter couldn't help but chuckle even as another stray tear slipped down his cheek at the soft concern in your voice.

"I don't deserve you," he managed, smiling at you so lovingly you just had to laugh along with him. You leaned down, another kiss on his lips as the tension melted from you.

"You deserve every good thing that comes your way, Lighter," you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear as your hips resumed their slow grinding. He almost felt a little pathetic, crying at your sweet words, but a well-aimed movement against his cock, the keening whine you let out as the head caught your clit, had all those thoughts flying out the window. His gasped moan harmonised with the clatter of his restraints against the bedframe as he momentarily forgot his hands were tied, automatically moving to try and grab your waist and push you down harder.

Though, as usual, you knew exactly what he needed, only grinding a moment more before you lifted to pull your panties to the side, ready to sink onto him-

"I- Wait-" Lighter managed, silently cursing himself for listening to the responsible part of his brain, "Don't you want to use a condom?"

"Do you?"

Your eyebrow quirked incredulously, playful smirk on your face like when you presented someone with a gift you knew they'd love, and the thought echoed in his mind so clearly Lighter was almost surprised he didn't say it out loud.

'I need to marry you.'

His reply must have been written across his face, though, because you resumed your movement, your head falling back at the stretch with virtually no preparation, while Lighter let out his own moan with the feeling of your gummy walls slowly taking in more and more of him. Finally seated fully on his cock, you shot him a smile, a little dazed at being so full, then started moving, a slow, sensual rhythm as you bounced lightly and grinded against him. He had to fight the instinct to let his head fall back, the show in front of him far too hypnotising as you fucked yourself on him, pretty moans falling from your lips at every tiny thrust he managed in his position.

"Shit, baby, so pretty for me, please-" you clenched around him at his praise, speeding your movements and causing another deep groan to escape him, "fuck, please, just like that, baby please-"

"What do you need?" you managed despite the way he filled you up so perfectly, taking in how gorgeous he looked, muscular chest littered with red kisses, face flushed and eyes glossy, raking over you with the same indulgence as those unspecified pleas tumbled out.

"Need- shit, need to hold you-" he cut himself off with a moan as you tightened around him, pulling at the restraints on his hands to accentuate his point. It didn't take him any more begging for you to reach up, slightly lifting off his cock to reach the fabric around his wrists. As pretty as he looked all laid out for you and yearning, you couldn't deny you missed his calloused hands on your skin.

As soon as the rope loosened enough for Lighter's wrists to slip out, he was sitting up, chest pressed against yours, one hand groping at your breasts as the other wrapped around your waist, pushing himself impossibly deeper, pulling you impossibly closer. He peppered your face with kisses, lopsided grin forming on his face as you couldn't help but giggle, before his face found its place in the crook of your neck, muttering sweet and filthy nothings into your skin as he lathed it in kisses and nips.

"I'm- fuck, I'm close-" he groaned, the hand on your breast migrating down to rub circles on your clit, the roughness of his fingertips against it sending your back arching.

"Inside. Please," you whined, bouncing yourself faster in time with his shallow thrusts, "'m close too-"

With one final sharp thrust and stuttered moan, Lighter spilled inside you, pulling you down as deep as you could possibly go. His head almost felt fuzzy as you spasmed around his sensitive length, pressing crescent shapes into his shoulders with your fingernails as the feeling of his hot seed sent you over the edge as well.

Gently, he lowered himself back down onto the bed, careful not to pull out as he pulled you down with him to lay on his chest. You looked up at him, that lovesick gaze he never really knew what to do with as you breathed heavily, coming down from your high.

"Did you like your present?" you managed, still singsong and playful as your finger traced the many outlines of your lips on his skin.

"I think-" Lighter responded, brushing a stray hair from your face before cupping your cheek, "I think I'm the luckiest man alive."

[saphiccarma]

Hailo! Can I get a Agatha x Reader where Reader makes lunch for Agatha in the cutest wat possible (maybe little notes, heart shaped sandwiches and more)? Agatha feeling loved so she proceeds to fuck Reader after work

- Love Notes

Relationships - Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary - Agatha had a bad habit of forgetting to pack lunches and so you took it into your hands to fix that. Agatha decides to show you how much she appreciates it.

Warnings: counter sex, strap on (r receiving), lil' bit of nipple play (r receiving)

A/N: this prompt was such a cute mix of sweet and then smut and i love it. it's a bit short, but i'm actually pretty happy with it

Detective Harkness had been your girlfriend for a short amount of time, and you loved every second of it. Ranging from all aspects of her. Her harsh words that had an underlying, and hard to detect, but caring tone. The way her lips would softly nibble on every inch of your skin, her lips worshiping you several times a week. It was perfect.

You had just moved in with her, your stuff was already mostly strewn around her house by that point, but moving the rest of your belongings made it official. Since you first moved in, you learned that she had a tendency to forget to bring lunch to work with her. You made it your personal mission to fix that.

It started simple, just throwing together whatever leftovers were in the fridge, but it didn't take long for you to put more care into it. Little sandwiches that you cut into heart shapes. You made sure to prepare them late at night so that it would be a surprise in the morning. You also tucked notes into her bag. Sometimes they were long, filled with tender words and ended with a sweet heart, but other times they were just short messages that had a smiley face. It all depended on how tired you were the night before.

You couldn't quite tell if she liked it, but that didn't stop you from continuing with your gesture of love. A couple of times you made the notes dirty, words that got you into trouble the instant Agatha got home. If you were in the right mood, then you would make her a homecooked meal the night before or buy her chocolates from the store on your way home. And even if she didn't openly show it, you could tell that Agatha secretly adored it.

Humming softly, you swayed your hips as you layered different toppings onto the sandwich bread. It was toasted so that the edges were a perfect golden brown and butter was smeared all over it. A chicken breast sizzled on the stove next to you while you chopped up lettuce before putting it onto the bread. It was followed up by fresh avocado, sliced into perfect lines. While you waited for the protein to finish cooking, you grabbed a toothpick out of one of the drawers. A pink piece of paper already sat next to you, cut into a tiny heart, and you glued it to the toothpick.

Faintly, you registered the front door closing, but you were too focused on the song stuck in your head. That was until familiar arms wrapped around your waist. A surprised gasp left you as you turned around, a light smile on your face.

"Hey," you greeted, pleasantly surprised to see Agatha home already. She wasn't supposed to be here for another few hours. Yet her arms were wrapped around you, and you could smell her warm amber smell that drifted around. Her hair, out of its usual ponytail, tickled your neck as she pressed her lips onto yours. She tasted of day-old coffee and the chocolates you threw in her lunch box last minute. Her tongue swiped against your lower lip and you instantly melted into her.

“I missed you,” her words were low, her voice husky, “Do you know how sweet you are?”

As she pushed herself closer you felt something hard press against you. A small gasp left you when Agatha jutted her hips slightly, her strap prodding at you. Had she been wearing it all day? She smirked against your lips, spinning you around and shoving you against the counter, her hands on your hips and lips never leaving yours.

Your hands fumbled to find the stove crank as you realized the mood she was in, even though she hadn't said a word, and you turned it until you heard the fire go out. The chicken sizzled lightly but you hardly cared.

"Hi," she murmured, pulling back, "You're so sweet, y'know that?" Her hands trailed up to cup your breasts and you let out a stuttered moan. You were wearing only a tank top, one worn thin because of the years you've had it, and she could easily feel how your nipples already pebbled beneath her touch. She kissed you fervently, the action filled with passion and love.

Her thumb swiped over your hard nipple just as her tongue did the same to your lower lip again, "You are an absolute delight, so beautiful, so perfect." Agatha moved her lips to press quick little pecks down your jaw and neck, sucking a couple times and scraping with her teeth. Your hands gripped the counter for purchase, struggling to stay upright with her intoxicating touch trailing all of over you. Pinching your nipple once more, drawing a small yelp out of you, Agatha spun you around quickly once more, your stomach being pressed into the cold marble material.

Agatha pushed you down so that your face was held down and right against the chilly surface. You could hear her pants unzipping and her strap popped out to poke at you. A little gasp left you. She bent down so that her front was pressed against your back.

"Let me show you how much I adore you." Her words were whispered against your neck, breath hot and lips biting down on your soft skin. You whimpered softly, your hips shifting as she tugged your pants and panties down. Even after just a few minutes, you were positively dripping, liquid slowly sliding down your thighs. The cold air blasted against your skin, and you shivered slightly but hardly had time to focus on that as her strap poked at your entrance.

There was hardly a moment before she snapped her hips and thrust into you. Your eyes fluttered shut and you moaned into the counter. The strap hit your spot just right, the ridges and texture rubbing against your walls just right as Agatha pumped in and out at a brutal pace. Her hands kept you pinned to the counter even as you squirmed and whined. Not that you wanted it to stop. It was wonderful, her strap being driven in and out of you, but it wasn't enough. Not enough to cum anyway.

Just when you were about to beg for more, Agatha's hand left your hip and rounded to swipe through your folds, drawing another loud moan from you. Her fingers swiped across your clit and your hips bucked. She toyed with your clit for a moment before bending down and sucking the sensitive skin on your neck. Her teeth bit slightly, marking her claim on you, and her digits pushed harshly onto your clit.

With Agatha's strap being rammed in and out of you at a rapid pace, her fingers constantly tickling your clit and nails lightly scrapping, and her lips teasing the column of your neck. It was more than enough to make your orgasm build rapidly inside of you. Your stomach clenched and your knuckles turned white from how hard you were gripping the counter. Stuttered moans and broken whines left you as your orgasm came close.

"Aggie," you whined, although you hardly had to say anything for her to know you were close. Based on the ways your walls fluttered around her fake cock and your sounds became more high-pitched and desperate. "Please, please, please, please-"

"Go on," she cooed, her voice soft and filled with so much adoration, "Go ahead, sweet girl, let go."

That was all it took for you to cum. Your high felt like pure pleasure and everything in you tensed up, muscles locking up as you came around Agatha's strap, your moan echoing throughout the small apartment kitchen. And you expected her to stop, to pull out as your muscles started to relax, but she didn't. Agatha's fingers twirled your clit between the pads of her thumb and pointer finger and her pace didn't let up. You bordered on the edge of overstimulation, her touch quickly becoming too much way too fast.

You whimpered, hand grasping desperately at her wrist in attempt to get her to stop, "Aggie- too much. Too much." All she did was laugh and continued her movements.

"You can give me one more, right? My good girl?"

And you did. You gave her two more orgasms before she finally slowed. Your cunt and clit were throbbing, aching from how much she played with them, but that didn’t' stop the satisfaction that coursed through you pleasantly. When you thought she would never stop, your brain hazy and thoughts muddled, Agatha finally pulled out and her fingers left your clit. You whined softly at the empty feeling. Hushing you gently, Agatha spun you around and wrapped her arms around you tenderly. Her nose brushed against yours as she placed one, final, tender kiss to your lips.

"You're such sweet girl," she whispered, "Making me lunch everyday with little notes. That one you left this morning was particularly tempting."

Her fingers curled around under your chin as she raised a brow, unamused. Through the fog in your mind, you remembered the slightly dirty note you had written, tucking it into her bag. It wasn't even that bad, just some words you thought described your relationship perfectly. "The ncier you treat her outside the bedroom, the naughtier it will be inside the bedroom." You giggled faintly as you remembered it, your arms wrapping around her neck.

"I love you," you said softly.

There was only a slight pause before she responded, the words unfamiliar to her still, "I love you too."

[ink-stainedkiss]

Nuisance - Ryomen Sukuna ✧

Synopsis: *Human!Sukuna* While hanging out with your boyfriend, Ryomen, his little brother wanders out of his room.

*Not Proof Read*

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write something about the King of Curses and this prompt came to mind. I hope you guys enjoy it cause I loved writing about baby Yuji. Also, something like this is in the works for Dad!Gojo and Son!Megumi.

Warnings:None

Word Count: 1.5k

You have been chilling in Ryomen’s room for hours now. Since it was a weekend and you both didn’t have any classes, you found yourself resting in his bed while he played relentlessly on his video game. You had been passing the time by scrolling on your phone, but it became so repetitive, you ultimately gave up on trying to find something interesting to watch. Stretching in Ryo’s bed, you let out a grunt and lifted yourself from his mattress. He didn’t seem to notice your movement as you got up and strolled behind him. He had his headphones on and occasionally he would blurt out some phrase that sounded like gibberish to you.

Quietly, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, giving him a quick kiss to his cheek, but as you began to walk to the door, you were whipped around and stuck in between Ryomen’s legs. He had taken his headset off and stared up at you with questioning eyes,”Where are you going?” You smirked, leaning down and placing a slow kiss to his lips,”Just down stairs, I’m hungry.” He hummed to your words, kneading the flesh of the back of your thighs,”Can you bring me some water?” Nodding, you gave him one last kiss,”Of course.”

With that he let you go, not without slapping your ass on your way out. You flipped him off playfully, smiling as his deep chuckled echoed out. You headed down the hallway, humming a small song under your breath as you walked to the kitchen. When you first met Ryo, you were expecting his small home to be trashed and flooded with dirty dishes, but to your surprise it was quite the opposite. He had a comfortable two bedroom, one bathroom, house that was practically becoming your second home. You weren’t sure who told him that keeping a fresh home attracts a lady, but it definitely works. He had plenty of good-smelling candles and each section of the home was spotless.

You wandered into the kitchen, opening the cupboards to find his stockpile of snacks. Finally, you found a bag of chips and set them on the counter. Moving to his refrigerator, you smirked at the photo stuck to the front with a magnet. It showed you and Ryomen standing in front of a Christmas light show and you were kissing his cheek. He’s such a softie. Opening the fridge, you frowned at the scarce amount of options. Energy drinks,condiments,barely any sandwich meat and eggs. You really needed to go grocery shopping with him. Shockingly, he had bottled water in the bottom.

As you reached for it, you heard a door open in the back room and assumed Ryomen was finished with his game. You stood, turning with the water in hand, but the person behind you was not Ryomen at all. Well he did look exactly like him, just a lot younger. A little boy that shared Ryomen’s light pink hair and dark hazel eyes. He clearly had just woken up, because his hair was messy and he rubbed his eyes tiredly. Looking up, his eyes shone in pure wonder,”Who are you?”

You giggled, bending down to meet his level, he couldn't be any older than five,”Hey little guy,” you cooed,”I’m Ryomen’s girlfriend. What’s your name?” He pointed to himself,”I’m Yuji,” then pointed back to you,”You’re the one my older brother keeps talking about.” You raised your brows in interest,”He does? Well what does he say?” The little boy beamed at your question,”He says you’re really pretty.”

You giggled at his words,”Aw, that’s sweet of him.” He nodded along, then let out a yawn. You tilted your head, very happy to be talking to Ryomen’s adorable little brother,”Did you just wake up?” He let out a cute ‘mhm’ and you glanced at the hallway,”How come Ryomen hasn’t told me anything about you?” He gave a small shrug,”I don’t know,” You stood to your full height and gestured to the hall,”Well do you wanna go say hi to him?”

He nodded excitedly and just as you were about to lead the way, Yuji lifted both of his hands, making a small grabbing motion. You were sure this boy was going to be the death of you. Not wanting to let him down, you grabbed under his armpit, and lifted him off the ground. Setting him on your hip, you examined his features,”Aren’t you the cutest thing.” You booped his nose and he let out a small giggle,”When Ryo told me about you, I knew you were a good person.”

You smiled,”Thank you Yuji, I think you’re a good person too.” You ruffled his fluffy hair and Yuji clung to your shoulder, hugging you tightly. He’s kinda like a koala. You carried the boy to Ryomen’s door, completely forgetting the items you were supposed to bring back. Turning the handle, you stood in the doorway, pausing to put a finger to your lips and face Yuji. He gave a nod of understanding and you faced Ryomen, who was still playing his game.

“Ryo,” You called, making the man pause his game and begin to turn in his chair. As he removed his headphones,he had a small smile on his face,”I was wondering when you would get back-“ His smile dropped at the sight before him,”Where do you find him?” You rolled your eyes, setting the boy down,”You’re acting like he’s a stray.” Yuji ran right to his brother and climbed onto his lap. While Ryomen looks upset, he still allowed Yuji to stand on his thigh and stare in awe at his game’s visuals.

“He was supposed to be sleeping.” Ryomen claimed, you nodded,”Yeah, he walked out when I was grabbing the stuff and said some things.” He raised a brow, glancing at his little brother,”Like what?” There was a bit of annoyance in his tone, but you walked over, waving his suspension away,”Nothing bad, but how come I’ve never heard of this cutie?”

He scoffed, crossing his arms,”He’s anything but cute. His face is so annoying.” You raised a brow,”You guys have the exact same face.” He rolled his eyes,”Quit lying.” You giggled quietly, loving how moody the man was. Ryomen poked the boy's side, making him squeal,”I have told you about him, he’s just never around when you’re here.” You frowned,”Aw, that means I won’t be able to see him often.” Ryomen sighed,”Our parents are off on vacation and they didn’t want to pay for a babysitter so they dropped him off here,”

Yuji climbed down from Ryomen’s legs and grabbed your hand, pulling you down to the floor,”But what about during the weekdays? You don’t leave him here do you?” Ryomen gave you an unimpressed look,”No. of course I don’t. There’s a preschool close to here and I just drop him off before I go to class.” You hummed to his words, liking his response,”You’re pretty responsible Ryo.”

“Obviously. He’s my little brother.” You looked up at him with a small pout as Yuji played with your hair curiously. Ryomen scrunched his face,”Don’t look at me like that.” He motioned to the little boy who was crawling into your lap,”Our mom would kill me if I didn’t take care of that nuisance.” You gasped, collecting Yuji in your arms protectively,”He is not a nuisance. He’s a little angel.”

The man shook his head, turning back to his game,”Maybe to you.” You glared at the back of Ryomen’s head, then turned down to the boy in your arms,”He’s just jealous Yuji.” Though Ryomen acted like he didn’t care, he side-eyed the two of you, smiling to himself as you continued to entertain his younger brother.

The day carried on, sun falling past the horizon and that night you all had pasta, much to Yuji’s request. You all got ready for bed, letting Yuji use your moisturizer as he watched you in amazement. Ryomen picked up his brother once you were finished with your routine and the two of you walked to Yuji’s room. Unfortunately, when Ryomen opened the door, Yuji let out a pitiful whine and nuzzled himself closer into Ryomen’s chest. Your eyebrows crease and you pet his hair comfortingly.

Your boyfriend exhaled,walking into the room,”Come on Yuji, you gotta go to bed.” He let out a sound of disagreement and moved from his arms, reaching out for yours. Folding instantly, you took him from his brother, smiling as the little boy cuddled you. Ryomen stood there, a disappointed look on his face as he watched Yuji. You held him tightly, staring at Ryo with pleading eyes,”Please can he stay with us?”

His brow furrowed, but he ultimately gave into your puppy eyes,”Fine, but just this once. Never again.” You walked over, kissing him softly,”Thank you, Ryo.” It wasn’t a shocker when Yuji slept in your guy's bed, sleeping peacefully between your bodies.

[dabuerre]

thanks for tagging @sensitivelittlevorta, didnt expect this at all haha!

last song: im god by clams casino and imogen heap

favorite color: dark blue, teal, pink, there's too many tbh

last book: inheritance by christopher paolini. my childhood books haha, actually getting to reading them all

last movie: its christmas, so to be accurate, i probably saw home alone on tv i guess haha. but i had a big planet of the apes marathon? that should count haha(go watch them, especially the old ones haha)

last show: stargate sg-1 / stargate atlantis - watching concurrently

sweet/spicy/savoury: savoury all the wayyyyy! gimme that msgg

relationship status: single, yep

last thing I googled: "is dying light 2 better now?" playing Undead Nightmare for the first time, just finished RDR1, and i suprisingly love the DLC more than the main game, maybe a zombie phase, idk, so i was considering playing that after, bought it on release, never finished it.

current obsession: scifi showws, and honestly, after stargate, i might look up superhero shows i have not seen

looking forward to: i dont know, man. i went through something heavy at the start of this year and im still "getting to normal". however im at the point where it hard to believe that shit will get better, you know.

no pressure tagging: @brigitoshaughnessy, cuz i vibe with ya, and @xenabutdryad haha.

Ten people I'd like to get to know better

Tagged by @marshmallow--shark Thanks for the tag!

Last song: Intro/Chamber The Cartridge by Rise Against

Favourite colour: Orange!

Last book: A Brief History of Intelligence by Max Bennett

Last movie: That Christmas (it was kinda weird and we didn't finish it)

Last show: Jentry Chau vs. the Underworld

Sweet/spicy/savoury: I don't have much of a sweet tooth anymore, but I used to. Savoury!

Relationship status: Happily single

Last thing I googled: "quality" synonym

Current obsession: Star Trek: Enterprise. This is my fallback obsession. Close behind is Jentry Chau as a very recent one.

Looking forward to: Seeing a concert and a musical next year!

Tagging: @ionamalachite @peculiarreality @thetachapel02 @deadheaddaisy @papercranesong @talshiargirlfriend @glitter-and-metal @dragons-in-spaceee @pearlypairings @strze-lec

[earthchica]

Persuasive | 2

supervisor! terry richmond x black, fem! reader { office siren }

summary: You get a little taste of your medicine from Terry when he locked you both in a storage room.

warnings: explicit smut (18+), dom & sub, fingering, oral (m&f), dirty talking, public foreplay, unprotected sex, praise kink, flirting, sexual teasing, size kink, you have a last name (miss. hayes), nicknames { baby, baby girl, good girl, good slut, pretty girl, & more } words: 6k

note: hiiii, I hope y'all had a great Christmas. here's part 2, unedited, with some errors, lol. Thank you, and please enjoy it.

part one

The morning sun poured into the office as you sauntered in, a grin on your face, excitement buzzing through you like electricity. You had a plan ready to keep Terry on his toes and remind him of the chemistry crackling between you two.

But as the hours ticked by, you couldn’t shake the growing unease in your stomach; you got up, went to his office, knocked, and heard him back in your chair, biting your lip.

There was something different about him today—he seemed sharper and more assertive, and you couldn't help but feel a little flutter in your stomach.

“Hey, Terry,” you started, a teasing lilt in your voice. “Remember yesterday? You were all weak in the knees; couldn’t even handle being patient!” You leaned forward, giving him a playful smirk.

Terry raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Weak? Nah, I wouldn’t say that. You had me in a good spot, and I’ll give you that, but there's no way it’s happening again.”

His voice was low, rich with confidence, sending a shiver down your spine. You feigned innocence, biting your lip more to hide a grin. “Oh really? You may actin’ all stern and dom today, but just remember I could have you submissive again if I wanted to.”

“Look, you caught me slippin’ just once,” Terry shot back, crossing his arms. “I ain’t ashamed; you got me, but don’t get it twisted.” He held your gaze steady, letting the words hang like a challenge.

A thrill rushed through you, igniting something deep inside. “You think you can just flip it on me? Make me submit?” You tried to sound defiant but could feel the heat creeping up your cheeks.

Terry chuckled softly. “Oh, I know I can. I’ll have you begging for mercy when the time’s right.” His voice had that playful edge, teasing yet sincere, making you want to lean in closer.

You blinked, trying to play it tough. “I’m not begging for anything, Terry.” You rolled your eyes, “Oh, I beg to differ. You just wait. Remember, this ain’t over, not by a long shot.”

Terry pointed a finger playfully at you before leaning back in his chair. “And for now, you need to take a lunch break. You gonna listen to me, or I might decide to take you right here.”

You rolled your eyes again, but your heart raced. “Fine, I’ll take lunch. Only because I’m hungry!” You said, leaving his office and trying to shake off the tension in the air.

His words lingered in your mind as you walked towards the break room. With every step, you attempted to push Terry out—his presence was heavy and electrifying, and knowing this game was far from over, you couldn’t shake off the sense.

After lunch, you were rummaged through the storage room, your mind buzzed from the brief yet intense exchange with Terry. The dim light cast shadows around you, the air thick with an electrifying tension that seemed to pulse with every breath you took.

As you reached for a box on the top shelf, you heard the door creak open and locked click shut. You turned, startled, and found Terry standing there, leaning against the door with that infuriating smirk.

“Need some help?” he asked, his tone playful yet laced with an unmistakable intensity. You hesitated momentarily, caught off guard by his presence dominating the small space.

Swallowing hard, you nodded. “Yeah, I could use a hand,” you managed, trying to sound casual despite the rush of adrenaline coursing through you.

Terry stepped forward, brushing against your back as he reached for the box you’d been eyeing. The heat emanating from him sent shivers down your spine, and you fought to maintain your composure.

“Got it,” he said smoothly, lifting the box quickly but not stepping back. Instead, he pressed his body against yours, his warmth enveloping you and nearly making your knees buckle.

“Thank you,” you stammered, focusing intently on the box's contents to distract yourself from how your heart raced. But the closeness was intoxicating, and you could feel Terry’s gaze on you.

It was predatory, like a lion observing its prey, making it harder to think straight. “So, what are you looking for in here?” he asked, a teasing glimmer in his eye as he leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear.

You shot back a feeble retort, trying to regain some control. “Just need some supplies. Nothing exciting.” But how he looked at you and his fingers brushed against your waist made your resolve waver.

His mere presence was dizzying, and every teasing remark he made sent waves of desire coursing through you. “Are you sure? Because I could think of a few things you might need,” he replied, his voice dropping lower as he leaned closer.

You turned to face him fully, fire igniting in your belly as you met his eyes. “Oh really? And what might those be?” you challenged, your heart racing faster than you could manage.

Without a word, he leaned in and kissed your cheek softly, an innocuous touch that sent shockwaves through you. “Maybe I could start with this…” he murmured, continuing to trail kisses along your neck.

You felt your breath hitch in your throat, desperately trying to maintain your composure as your mind raced. “Terry—” you began, but you couldn’t hold back any longer.

Terry grabbed your face and kissed you softly, feeling the warmth of his lips against yours. You responded instantly, feeling him wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer.

The kiss deepened, filled with urgency and lust. Terry pulled away from the kiss with a playful grin and looked down at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Terry began to circle around while staring at you before coming behind you. "I told you it wasn't over," Terry said, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning in.

He pushed your hair to the side; you felt the warmth of his breath on the back of your neck. “Terry, please,” you breathed, feeling your heart pound in resonance with the desire between you.

“Fuck, you’re fucking sexy. I don’t know how you can walk around here without driving everyone insane.” Terry said, grinding against your ass, letting you feel the harden on in his pants.

You gasped, closing your eyes while he cupped your breasts with his large hands and kissed your neck. Wetness flooded your panties, but you quickly masked it with a layer of refusal.

“Flattery won’t work on me,” you replied, trying to play it cool, though your voice trembled slightly. “Oh, it’s not flattery. It’s just the truth,” he insisted with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“You’re stunning, and I’m not just talking about your appearance. It’s how you carry yourself, the fire in your eyes when you’re passionate about something. That’s what I want.”

His gaze softened, revealing sincerity among the teasing. “And right now, all I can think about is how much I want you.” He added. You swallowed hard, caught off guard by his confession.

“Do you want me, baby?” Terry asked softly, his voice almost caressed.

"I-" you started.

"I know you do, but I need to hear the words. Come on, baby, be a good girl and use your words for me. You had a lot to say earlier?" Terry whispered.

"Yes, Terry, please. I want you; I need you, please!" You moaned, begging softly, and his large hand slid down to your stomach to your core; you bit your lip.

"Take your panties off for me, baby," Terry ordered, and you did what you were told. Terry kisses your neck again before lifting your skirt up and spreading your legs wide to slide his hand down your wet pussy lips.

His fingers worked methodically, flicking and pressing, bringing heat and circulation. You couldn't help but hold a moan of pleasure, gripping his hip and your body relaxing into the back of his chest.

"You tryin’ to keep it quiet? Nah, I wanna hear you, lil mama. How does it feel? It feels good, huh?" Terry asked, his voice smooth and light.

With every added finger and stroke, you couldn't suppress the pleasure you were feeling. "Yes, Terry. It feels so good, I can’t even-" you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper.

Terry chuckled softly, cradling your pussy in his hand, fingers thrusting between your pussy lips at a fast pace. “Mmm, this pussy is so tight and wet! Is all this wetness for me? I got you so soaked, huh?”.

Another moan escaped your lips, this time louder, unable to contain the pleasure building within you. "Fuck, yes, it's all for you, Terry! ahh, your fingers...I wish it was your dick."

Terry chuckled, his fingers applying the right fast pace, driving you wild. "Mmmm, I bet. How bad you've been wanting me fucking you?" he asked, grabbing your neck with his other hand.

You moaned and looked at him, eyes sparkling warmly. "So bad, so bad I always dreamed you fucking me like a good little slut until I beg to cum on your dick" you confessed.

"Is that what you want, lil mama. I can make that happen only if you're a good girl. Good girls are good and obey; you think you can do that?" He asked whispering, pecking your lips.

"Yes, Terry, I'm a good girl, and I can be, I promise," you whispered, closing your eyes, allowing yourself to sink deeper into his fingers and feel slightly close to the edge.

"Mmmm, I got you," He said with a low chuckle, and you were about to moan out as your response when you heard a knock on the storage door.

It was like someone trying to get in, but it was locked. Terry covered your mouth and continued to work his magic on your pussy, keeping his eyes locked on the door, his movements steady and calm.

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as you began to squirm against him, feeling yourself getting close to cumming, "Shh, hold on a second," he whispered, his voice low and soothing.

A few moments passed, and he leaned closer, his breath warm against your dark brown skin. "Be a good girl; they’ll pass soon enough; and then you can cum"

As the knocking disappeared, and heard footsteps move away. "Cum for me, cum for me, beautiful girl, such a good girl," Terry said, and your orgasm hit you hard, causing you to let out a muffled moan of pleasure.

Terry handled you up as you came down, trailing kisses your neck before fixing your skirt and moving in front of you. He put your panties into his pocket before pressing a passionate kiss on you.

You pulled away from the kiss, "Shit, Terry! That was so....amazing, and we almost got caught," you replied, your voice a mix of breathless and excited.

Terry chuckled softly, pulling you closer. "Yeah, it was, and that was kinda risky, but it was worth it, right?" He asked.

"Yes, it was," you said, still catching your breath and steadying your legs better now.

"Good! How about we keep this goin'? I'm thinkin' dinner at my place, then we can finish what we started," Terry asked, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist before sliding to your ass.

You felt a smile creep onto your face. "Dinner, huh? Like a date?" you teased. Terry leaned in a little, a playful glint in his eyes. "Sure, like a date." He said, his confidence making your heart flutter.

"Alright then," you said, feeling a rush of excitement. "But you better make it good!" You added, and he laughed.

"I'll ensure you won't regret it. Now come on, let's get outta here before anyone else decides to come looking again." With that, he led you to the door, anticipation bubbling between you both.

As you both settled back into work after that intense moment, Terry casually glanced your way here and there. Finally, work was over, and you were home now.

You rummaged through your closet, pulling out a couple of dresses before you settled on one that always made you feel confident and comfortable.

It was a little sexy, just how you wanted it. As you slipped it on, you couldn’t help but smile; the dress's color highlighted your dark brown skin tone and curvy hips.

Then came the moment of truth: the hair and makeup. You took your time, doing each step carefully, but your mind kept drifting back to Terry.

“Alright, girl, just be you,” you said to your reflection, adjusting the final touches. You gave yourself one last look, and feeling somewhat satisfied, you grabbed your phone, keys, and bag while headed out.

-

As you pulled up to Terry's house, your heart raced with anticipation. The warm glow from the porch light illuminated the yard, and you could see him waiting at the door.

When exited the car, you took a deep breath, feeling the cool evening air brush against your skin. The door creaked open, and there stood Terry with a smile on his face.

Terry looked effortlessly sexy in a long-sleeved fitted shirt that hugged his muscles just right. His eyes lit up when he saw you, noting how the dress flowed around your curves.

“Damn, you look fine as hell,” Terry said, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Thanks! I was hopin’ you’d like it,” you replied, a playful smile crossing your lips.

He stepped aside, gesturing for you to come in. “Like it? Baby, I love it. Please, come on in.” You could feel his gaze lingering on you as you walked past him, sending a thrill through your body.

Once inside, the atmosphere was cozy; the lights were dim, a soft tune playing in the background. You turned to face him, and for a brief moment, you both just stood there, locked in each other's eyes.

“You really are something special, you know that?” Terry said, his voice low and sincere. You felt a rush of warmth at his compliment. “You ain't too bad yourself, Terry.”

Laughter bubbled between you, but then the tension shifted, and suddenly, it was just you two in the room. Without even thinking, you took a step closer.

Terry did the same, closing the distance until barely any space left. As he leaned in, the world around you faded; all you could focus on was how he looked at you.

Then, he kissed you in a moment that felt like it lasted forever. The gentle press of his lips ignited a spark, and you melted against him, forgetting all about the dinner you had planned.

The kiss was hungry and sweet as if he had been waiting all day for this. As the kiss deepened, it felt electric. You lose yourself in the way his tongue dances along yours.

You finally pull back, breathless and dazed, your heart racing; Terry began leaving trails of kisses to your neck to your breasts, You cupped them through your dress, sucking and licking the cleavage part that was exposed.

"Terry...ahh...what-what about dinner?" You moaned, caressing the back of his neck, and he pulled away from your breasts and looked down at you with those eyes.

"Mmm, dinner can wait. I need you; at least you want me to stop," He expressed. "No, don't stop, please don't," You said, pulling him into a kiss and he picked you up bridal style.

Terry took you to his bedroom, which had candlelight and roses on the bed, causing you to chuckle. You bit your lip, once he put you down on your feet at the edge of his bed.

You kissed him, taking his shirt off as he unzipped your dress, growling at the sight of your body, you weren't wearing a bra and just black panties.

"Wow, you are so perfect! Pretty girl with the pretty body," Terry said; his voice was sincere and low, making your panties have been wetter as he cupped your hips, slightly turning you to caress your ass.

"Ahh, Terry. I-I need that dick; I’m looking forward to wrapping my mouth around your dick," You moaned, sliding your hand down budge in his pants.

Terry moaned, leaning his forehead against yours, breath slightly hitched. "Fuck, that's what you want huh, have ."

"Mmm, yes, please, Terry. You can fuck my face as much as you want. I know you would love that?" You whispered in his ear, unzipping his pants and pushing them down.

You looked down to see his dick print. "Mmm, you're so big. I hope I fit your big dick in my mouth. Wouldn't you like that full mouth of your dick, Daddy?" You moaned, feeling him grasp your ass firmly as a reaction to you calling him that.

"Fuck, gonna be the death of me, baby girl. Getting on your fucking knees," Terry ordered, removing your hand and moving you down to the floor.

You look up at Terry lustfully as he takes his pants and underwear completely off before taking his big, hard throbbing dick in your eyesight, making your mouth water.

"Be a good girl, and suck it like you said you would," Terry said, shoving his dick in your mouth, causing you to moan; you popped him for a second before going back in.

You look at him, bobbing your head up and down his length, loving his expressions. "Ohhhh….baby, your mouth is perfect. Just like that, yes, baby fuck…."

"Do I look like a good little slut with your dick in my mouth?" You asked, pulling away for a second to stroke him with your hands, Terry gripped your hair gently.

You went back to suck him, moving your head up and down, giving him pleasure. "Mmmm, yes, baby," Terry says, without warning, he starts fucking your mouth.

You look up at him, feeling your eyes water slightly as the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat in an incredibly harsh way. "Ahhh, fuck lil mama, this-this so good"

Terry popped himself out of your mouth, and you gasped for air, chuckling as Salva dropped out of your mouth. "Fucking hit with your dick on my tongue, please, Daddy," you moaned.

Terry slapped his dick on your tongue. "You like that, huh? Nasty girl," He asked, completely amazed by you. "Mmm…yes! I love the way you taste." You said before letting you go back to suck.

You began stroking at the same time while still looking at him. "Mmm, daddy…I want all of your cum on my tongue. I want to taste it, Please, give it to me"

"Fuck, I'll give it to you since you've been such a good girl." Terry moaned, grabbing a chunk of your hair as he stroked his dick against your face.

You gripped the back of his legs; you could tell he was getting close to the edge by the way you were looking up at him. "fuck, fuck!!!!" Terry moaned.

His eyes rolled the back out of his head as he busted his full, hot load into your tongue; it got all over your face, causing you to smile at the sight.

You gazed up at Terry with a smile and sucked him back into your mouth, causing him to whimper slightly. "Fuck, you're killing me, girl," Terry moaned, watching you lick all the cum up.

He tried to catch his breath while walking to his bathroom to get a washcloth to wipe your face. Once cleaned up, you took your panties off, and Terry said, "Get on the bed and spread your legs for me."

You did what you were told, and Terry got on the bed and lifted your leg over his shoulder, loving the feel of the way he was looking up at you with those pretty eyes.

"Please, Daddy. I need you; I need your dick. I’m desperate to feel your dick throbbing inside me," You begged, craving him.

"Mmmm…be patient lil mama. I'mma give it to ya, but I want to taste this pretty pussy of yours…" Terry said before plunging his tongue between your wet folds.

His lips capture your clit, and he sucks it into his mouth, alternating between flicks with the tip of his tongue and light nibbles with his teeth.

"Ahh, ahhh, oh my goodness. Your tongue is..."You moaned and placed your hand on the back of his head as he went harder than before.

Terry pulls away for a second, rubbing your clit. "Mmm, I love this…I could eat this delicious pussy all night. Do you like it, beautiful? Do you like the way I'm eating this wet, juicy pussy."

"Ahh fuck, yes, daddy please more. I need you; I'm so close," You cried, gazing down at him for a second, and he grinned, sucking the soul out of you.

With no word, he began fingering you faster and harder then rubbing at your clit. "Ahh yes, just light that. Fuck, fuck i'm gonna cum yes, I'm gonna cum-!"

"That's it, good girl. Cum for me, cum for me, lil mama," Terry said, and your orgasm hit you hard, causing you to let out a scream of pleasure.

Terry slid you down to the edge of the other side of the bed, not waiting for you to calm down from your high before placing your leg on his shoulder to lay on your side.

"Fuck, daddy!" You moaned, feeling his slap on your pussy. Terry grabbed your leg and began stroking himself before moving to slide his dick up and down your wet folds.

"Please," you cried out, your voice thick with desperation as lust welled up inside you. "Please, what, baby?" Terry replied, his tone teasing yet earnest.

The soft light casts a warm glow on his features, accentuating his chiseled jawline and the intensity of his gaze. He looked utterly captivating, igniting hunger and urgency within you.

"Please fuck me but go slow; I want to feel every inch of that beautiful big dick entering my pussy, Daddy" You opened your mouth in an O as you looked up at him.

Terry thrusts the tip of his dick slowly into your pussy; you feel the tip was too much. “Wait, wait, ahh, I don’t think I can take it,” you cried, your voice slightly uncomfortable.

A rush of warmth surged through you, making your heart race. “Shh, baby girl,” Terry whispered softly, his voice soothingly against your rising anxiety.

“I’ll talk you through it; you can take it. You trust me, right?” He asked as his calm demeanor reassured you, and you bit your lip, feeling a flutter in your stomach.

After a moment’s hesitation, you nodded with determination. “Yes, I trust you, Daddy!” You said, looking at him shyly, and he smiled, taking his tip out slowly and preparing with a few fingers.

"Mmm, gotta open this tight little pussy up a little bit, so you can take this dick like a good girl right?" Terry asked, began fingering you a little bit, causing you to let out moans of pleasure.

"Yes, daddy. Am I your good girl? I want to earn your praise. Please tell me I’m your good girl," You moaned,

"You're such a good girl, baby, and you're doing so well for me," Terry said, still fingering you and gazing down at you with his eyes shimmered with pride.

"Keep those pretty eyes on me, beautiful girl." He says in his deep voice, and you obey and keep your eyes on him, feeling him go faster.

"Shit, daddy. Oh my god, you're stretching me out so good with your fingers." You moaned and struggled to break free, but his grip kept you in place.

Terry looked at you with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “You think you can take it now? I really believe you can,” he said, his voice encouraging.

You smiled back, a feeling of determination bubbling up inside you. “Yes, I’m ready to give it another shot." You said with a moan, and he nodded; his dick rubbed against your wet folds, not daring to enter.

Terry slowly enters your wet pussy with just the tip, it wasn't that bad like the first time, and he could tell by the expression on your face. So he continued to go and asked.

"You're doing so well, baby. Fuck, I wish you could see how you look, so pretty" Terry said, wrapping your legs around his waist, looking at you as your eyes were closed shut tight.

Terry came down to leave trails of kisses down your neck to soothe the slight pain that was quickly going away as he started to thrusted slowly.

"Yes! Fuck, yes! So fucking big, you stretched me out and filled me up so good, Daddy." You moaned, feeling a wave of deep pleasure washed over you.

"Good girl, I could say the same, baby. I love how you gripping me with that pussy like that," Terry moaned, continuing to thrust slowly and gently.

"Mmm, I’ve been thinking about this moment all day. So far, it's amazing; you're amazing, Terry." You moaned, touching his hip and loving feeling the rhythm of his thrust.

"Do you like that, baby? Can you take it going a little faster for me?" Terry said with a low moan coming out of his mouth, and you nodded.

You grabbed the sheets, looking up at him. "Mmm, yes, ah yes ah…go faster, please," You moaned, and he came down to pull you into a kiss while going faster in his thrusts.

You pulled away and let out a loud moan. "Yes, fuck me, yes, yes, Daddy!" You cried as Terry raised a bit to grip your waist as one of your hands moved to grip his muscular, toned arms.

Both of you stared at each other while moaning at the great pleasure you two were receiving. You were loving the way every inch of his dick was pounding inside your soaked, wet pussy.

You began rubbing your clit to feel yourself rising again. "Oh, Daddy, it feels so good. Please don't stop, don't stop fucking me. Oh, shit." You cried, couldn't believe the great pleasure you were feeling.

"I won't, baby, I won't ever stop, baby…fuck…that pussy clenching that dick," Terry groaned, pushing your legs to close and gripping your ass cheek.

He began pounding into you, making your eyes roll in your head as you moaned out. "Is this pussy yours? Are you going to take it, Daddy?"

Your breasts bounced with every rhythm of thrust he gave you. He wrapped his hand around your neck while putting a finger in your mouth.

"Yeah, of course, this pussy is mine! No one else, you got that?" He said with a moan, and your body again began to shake as you felt your second orgasm begin to build and rise quickly.

"Yes, that's right, it's all yours, Daddy. Oh, fuck I think I'm gonna cum again" You cried tears in your eyes, and he kissed, feeling your walls tightening around him, and the next thing you knew.

"Fuck, me too. Baby, me too," Terry moaned, and both of you came together.

"Shit, baby, here it comes," Terry cursed as he pulled out and stroked his dick. "Yes, Daddy, cum all over this ass, mmm, I want to feel it on my skin," You moaned.

Terry releases his hot cum against your round, plump ass cheek. His eyes were closed as you shook from the same, and he couldn't keep his balance.

You inhaled deeply as he tumbled onto you for a brief moment, the warmth of his body pressing against yours before he gracefully rolled onto his back, shifting to the other side of the bed.

You felt your heart race as you glanced over at him. His expression was blissful, a soft smile playing on his lips as he stared up at the ceiling, completely lost in the moment.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip, captivated by the sight of him. As you continued to watch him, lost in your thoughts, Terry turned his head and caught you staring.

And before you could react, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, soft and lingering. It sent a spark through you, making your heart race even more.

“Mmm, that was good,” he said, pulling back slightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief, “How ‘bout we hit the shower?.” He stretched his arms above his head, showing off those muscles, and you couldn’t help but admire how he moved.

You laughed a little, unable to stifle the smile that crept onto your face. “You just wanna get me all wet again, huh?” you teased, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Terry chuckled, leaning closer again. “Maybe, but I also wanna clean you up and eat that dinner I made. Ain’t no way I’m lettin’ it go to waste, especially not after all that work I put in.”

“Right, I forgot.” You sighed. “You think it’ll still taste good?” you added and Terry shrugged, the playful glint in his eyes never fading.

“It's in a crock-pot, so I think it's good, and it’ll be fire. But first, let’s wash off. C’mon, I’ll race you to the bathroom!”

A few moments later, he returned, grinning from ear to ear. “What’s taking you so long?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

You feigned a dramatic sigh, looking down at your legs. “I’m not sure I can move. I think I’ve lost feeling in my legs!” You wiggled them playfully, but it felt like a stretch to stand.

Terry’s smile widened as he approached you, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “I must have done some serious work if your legs feel like jello, huh?” He knelt down, reaching for you.

With a little laugh, you playfully pushed his shoulder as he picked you up and took you to the bathroom. At that moment, everything felt perfect, and you hoped to turn whatever this was into something memorable.

[agnessintheocean]

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" asked Wayne one day to Eddie, it's been a week since he took him in, just a small boy with big doe eyes, he had that sad kind of look that no child should ever have. At first Wayne couldn't imagine taking a kid into his home, but when little Eddie looked at him all, he thought was, he couldn't let anyone hurt that small boy. He already had a hard enough life for someone so young, so he found himself taking an immediate liking to him, not hesitating to give him a better life, at least as much as he could. It's been just a week and it felt like he's been his kid his whole life, he couldn't imagine not loving him. His innocent toothy grin, his curiosity about every little thing, his bright eyes that light up so much when he smiles. He was just a small, beautiful boy whose childish giggle could make a man with the coldest heart melt. That boy who was laying on his couch upside down next to him, watching a silly kids show the name he couldn't remember, that prompted the question that fell out of Wayne's mouth "And what do you want to be when you grow up kid?". Little Eddie's mouth turned into a pout as he looked up at the ceiling in thought. "Kind." he answered after a moment. Such a simple and innocent answer that had Wayne smile softly. He couldn't imagine Eddie be anything other than just a kind boy. Silence took over them, just the sound of the tv on. Wayne just put his hand over the small one of Eddie's and gave it a little squeeze, the boys mind already focused back on the kids TV show, the topic flew out of his mind. And Wayne left it at that, turning his eyes onto what Eddie's pointing at on the TV screen.

Years later it's Eddie, his now boyfriend Steve (if someone said that he would end up together with Steve he would laugh at them), Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle, the best friends he made along the harsh way, sitting around in circle, beers in hand and an empty bottle in the middle, playing truth or dare, which no one remembers how they got to playing it. Once the bottle pointed at Steve, Robin asked the obvious question "Truth or dare?". Steve thought for a second "Truth." he said knowing his best friend might come up with an over the top dare, he chose a safer option. Robin, quite tipsy at this point, after a moment of silence asked "If someone asked you what Eddie is like what would the first thing you think of be?". Steve didn't have to think for long before he said "Kind.". Eddie looked up at him in surprise, his mind suddenly going back to that night with Wayne when he asked that one question when he was just a small child. He got filled with that nostalgic feeling and all he could think of as he stared adoringly at his boyfriend, who had no idea how much that one word means to him, was "Hey uncle Wayne, i did it".

[seokminfilm]

but he's an angel | yoon jeonghan

🪄 pairing, yoon jeonghan x reader

🪄 warning, model!jeonghan, jeonghan can speak french, romance & fluff, meet cute, reader is in love with this guy (they literally just met), feminine jeonghan, lyr uses feminine features & adjectives when describing jeonghan, teasing (mainly from jeonghan), jeonghan is kind of a nuisance at times (reader is too blinded by love at first sight to notice or care), cute + wholesome

🪄 summary, it's another boring day at the coffee shop you work at─that is, until a pretty korean who can speak shockingly good french asks you for a coffee you don't know how to make.

🪄 author's note, i wrote this because i'm going through jeonghan withdraws again :( it's a bit rushed and not my best work, but i did it for jeonghan and that's all that matters to me tbh!! took a break from writing for dokyeom but we'll be back to our regularly scheduled kyeom tomorrow!! hope you all had a merry christmas lyrnation :>

🪄 now playing, banana shake, hus

The bell jingles cutely as another customer leaves satisfied with a cup of hot, steaming coffee, and you slump against the countertop, social battery already drained from dealing with elderly ladies who couldn't read the menu signs well.

It was yet another boring day at Crème des Anges, the French coffee shop you happened to work at. Your favorite coworker, Joshua, was out sick with the cold, so you had to bear it all on your own, working with one of the older, grumpier ladies of the task force. It left you drained of all life and happiness, having to try not to wince at the lady's bored voice when she answered customers.

The jazz music was sweet when you entered in earlier this morning, but you swore the tracks were on a looping playlist, never stopping. You couldn't tell where one song stopped and other started, and to be honest, you were over trying to figure it out.

After giving a buisness woman extra creamer, you disappeared to the back to try to get a break from the boring, stuffy atmosphere.

Even though the back of the coffee shop was warm and inviting in color and decoration, you felt like you wanted to cry and drool all over the pretty couches and soft, plush chairs. The very cliche slogan of Crème des Anges stood in bold calligraphy, and you sighed, just grimacing at reading it

The cream of the angels is served here!

If the cream of the angels were served in a shockingly opressive coffee house with the same ten jazz tracks and sickening smell of caramel lingering in every nook and cranny of it, you'd pass.

A jingle of the bell begrudgingly led you out to the main counter again, and you dusted yourself off, pasting on your best smile as you recited one of the five default greetings you had to every new customer.

"Welcome to Crème des Anges, where everything is made from the cream of─"

Words fall short of the sight you see in front of you when you blink, but you could afford to try to describe it, right?

The customer has this soft, lazy glow to them─as if it was a haze of some kind. They smelled of vanilla and warmth, and the silky top they were wearing only added to the softness of their disposition. Their hair, as dark and smooth as bitter chocolate, and skin as glassy and clear as a brand-new mirror.

Their eyes were unlike anything you had ever seen─deep and brown with pointed lashes, soft and curling. Their lips were covered in a swipe of glittery, pink lip gloss, shimmering under the coffee shop's lights as they smiled at you sweetly, lips parting to reveal a perfect straight set of pearl-white teeth.

"─Cream of the angels." Their voice is unlike anything you had ever heard─it was a mixture of masculine and feminine, plesant and warm to listen to with a lilt of their special way of talking. They were soft, illuminating your world and the whole coffee shop with their words.

"Yeah, um─Cream...cream of the angels," Your face is burning red, and you clear your thraot, obviously still fazed by the arrival of this magical person. You couldn't even tell whether they were a male or a female, but you found that even more alluring.

The laugh that slipped from their lips was nothing short of melodic, sweet and tangy like tiramisu cake as they stared at you with a playfulness in your eyes. "Even though you were stuttering over your words for a bit there, you got it," The person smiled at you again, and you blushed, laughing autonomously as you tried to get a hold of yourself again.

"Okay, so, uh─um, what would you like today? I could give you recommendations if you want?" You try to resume your assigned lines as normal, but with the pretty stranger's eyes on you, your brain was slower than usual.

They laughed at your slow expression, obviously catching on to what you were thinking. "I'll make it easy on you. You're so flushed; you like like a very cute tomato."

And now the stranger was calling you cute? (A tomato too, but that was besides the point.) You could just die from your now amazing luck.

"What about..." The person trails off, leaving you awaiting for their cream-like voice. "What about an Café au lait?"

Café au lait? You had never heard of a drink like that before. Even though you were in Paris, all they really served is just normal American coffees. You weren't even sure the aformentioned grumpy lady even knew how to make an Café au lait, and you weren't going to ask her either.

Plus, you had to prove your worthiness to this pretty stranger somehow.

"Of course," You comply, putting his order into the system as you slip into third person for a second. Your situation has finally hit you in the face: a pretty stranger has appraoched your coffee shop, and now you're giving it a drink that's not even on the menu?

How down bad are you for this dream of a person?

"What will the name be on that order?" You add just seconds later, and the person adjusts the pricey-looking watch on their wrist as the anwer with a smirk. "Yoon Jeonghan."

No wonder you felt like you were the virgin Mary being visited by the angel Gabriel. The person─the man─you were talking to now was none other than Yoon Jeonghan, the male model popular for his continuous breaking of gender norms and star-studded photoshoots. You weren't one for fashion or makeup, but even you had heard of him, and that was his forte. He was perfect in almost everyway, and here you were, taking his order.

"Yoon Jeonghan, then." You say again, and Jeonghan laughs deviously, eyelashes brushing against his light cheeks as he stares up at you through them.

"It sounds like you just like the sound of my name in your mouth." Jeonghan's voice is cheeky, daring, and you clear your throat, glancing down at your shaking hands as you give an awkward laugh.

Blushing (and unable to deny him), you finish ringing up his order, taking his credit card and finishing the payment as he smiles, thakning you. "I'm really excited to try that Café au lait you're gonna make me. I believe in you."

Oh, no, you think to yourself, giving Jeonghan an awkward smile as you reply with an even awkwarder tone, "You're gonna love it."

Now, there was three things wrong with this situation. One, is the fact that you are now scrambling all over a customer, completely ignoring the rules set up by your boss.

Two, there is no such thing on Café au lait on your menu─you're sure Jeonghan knows it too, and is just waiting to see how you're going to make it happen.

And Three, well, you'd have to learn how to make a Café au lait and how to make a Café au lait fast, because that angel of a boy who's just entered your hellscape of a coffee shop has you in his delicate grip.

A delicate grip you're thrilled to be in, all because he's an angel.

[capquinn]

I was just thinking about bf!Quinn meeting your parents for the first time and being nervous about it beforehand lmao

god idk about you guys but my parents are neurotic so he’d be right to be a wreck 😅😭 ANYWAY nervous quinny coming right up

Quinn had been pacing the living room for nearly fifteen minutes, the soles of his shoes scuffing softly against the floor as he moved in restless, looping strides. His hands couldn’t seem to settle anywhere — shoving into his pockets, tugging at the collar of his button-up, dragging through his hair so often that a few strands were starting to stick up stubbornly. The brand new button up, the nice jeans, even the shoes you picked out for him were all perfect. But judging by the way he kept adjusting and pulling at them, they felt anything but. He looked like he was gearing up to take the ice in overtime during Playoffs, except this wasn’t about hockey. It was about meeting your parents for the first time.

And he was nervous. Really nervous.

“You okay?” you asked softly, your voice cutting through the quiet hum of the living room.

He stopped mid-step like he’d only just realised what he was doing, like he'd remembered he wasn't alone. His gaze flicked toward you, wide and a little uncertain, and for a second, he looked almost boyish, like a kid caught red-handed.

“I just...” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. His fingers tugged at his collar next, as though it had suddenly shrunk two sizes. “What if they don’t like me?” he finally said, the words quiet but heavy, like he’d been carrying them around for a while.

You stepped toward him, closing the space with a softness you knew he needed right now. “Quinn, they’re going to love you,” you said, smoothing your hands over the front of his shirt. Your touch lingered on his chest, steady and grounding.

He shook his head slightly, looking unconvinced, the crease between his brows deepening. “What if I say something stupid? Or they think I’m boring? Or—”

“Or they realise how lucky I am to have you and try to steal you away?” you interrupted gently, a small smile playing on your lips.

His brows furrowed, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth despite himself. “I’m serious,” he said, though the nervous energy in his voice softened just a little.

“And so am I,” you countered, your tone warm and steady. “You’re sweet, thoughtful and incredibly kind. They're going to see all of that and love you for it."

He exhaled a slow breath, some of the tension in his shoulders melting as he leaned into your touch. “I just really want to make a good impression,” he admitted, his voice quiet but honest.

“And you will,” you promised, rising up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Just be yourself. That’s more than enough.”

For a moment, he just looked at you, his eyes soft and full of something unspoken, like he was trying to anchor himself in your confidence. Your fingers found the ends of his hair, curling around them playfully, his shoulders sagging slightly, the tension easing a little more, and then he let out a quiet laugh — the kind that felt more like a release than amusement. It was progress, but you could still see the storm of thoughts swirling behind his eyes, his brows furrowing as another worry surfaced.

“But what if I run out of things to say?” he asked, his voice quieter this time, almost sheepish, like he already knew how you’d react but couldn’t stop himself from asking. There was a faint twitch at the corner of his lips, like he was bracing for you to tease him.

You didn’t disappoint. The laugh that bubbled out of you was soft, affectionate, and just a little exasperated. “You? Run out of things to say?” you repeated, your head tilting as you gave him a pointed look, the kind that always made him squirm in the most endearing way. “Not possible,” you said, your voice light but full of certainty.

His lips twitched, the ghost of a smile breaking through, but he still managed to look unconvinced. “It’s different, though,” he murmured, his gaze dropping briefly before flicking back to yours. “Talking to your parents isn’t the same as talking to you or the guys. I can’t just…say whatever.”

“You’re overthinking it,” you said gently, your fingers slipping from his hair to brush over his shoulders soothingly, like you could knead the tension out of him. "I mean it, baby. Just be yourself. That’s all they’re going to want. And trust me — once my dad gets going on golf or my mom starts asking you a million questions, you won’t even have to try.”

He let out a slow breath, the kind that made you feel like he was letting go of some of that tension. “Okay,” he said, nodding slightly. But then he paused, tilting his head at you with a faintly teasing glint in his eye. “And if I do run out of things to say?”

You grinned, leaning up to kiss the tip of his nose before pulling back with a soft laugh. “Then you smile, nod, and let them do all the talking.”

He laughed again, this time louder and easier, his hands settling on your waist as he looked at you like you’d just handed him the answer to every problem in the world. “Alright,” he said, a little steadier now. “I can do that.”

So when you arrive at your parent's house, Quinn’s still a little stiff, shaking your dad’s hand with a firm grip and offering your mom a bouquet of flowers, his voice polite and quiet. You can see him trying, making the effort to seem calm, but the way his shoulders creep up toward his ears tells you otherwise.

It doesn’t take long for the ice to break, though. Your dad starts talking about golf — just as you predicted — and Quinn leans into the conversation, his face lighting up as they swap stories about their best (and worst) games. There’s a genuine ease in the way they laugh together, and you can tell Quinn’s nerves start to melt away with each passing moment. Your mom, meanwhile, peppers him with questions. Everything from his family, to his favourite meals, to what it’s like playing in the NHL, and even down to how he likes his coffee. Though he stumbles over a few answers, glancing at you for reassurance more than once, he’s so earnest and thoughtful in his responses that she’s absolutely beaming by the time dinner is served, like she’s already planning the next time he’ll be invited over.

By the end of the night, Quinn’s walking out with your mom’s Tupperware full of leftovers balanced carefully in his hands and your dad clapping him on the shoulder as he glances your way with a hearty, “good kid, this one.” The approval in his tone is unmistakable, and when you look over at Quinn, his cheeks are tinged pink, his eyes bright with a mix of relief and quiet pride, his lips curved in that boyish smile you love so much.

“Told you they’d love you,” you tease once you’re in the car, nudging him lightly.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, his tone aiming for dismissive but falling short, the warmth in his eyes betraying him. He shifts slightly, leaning back into the seat, his fingers reaching out to find yours, threading together as he exhales a long, steady breath. You can feel the tension leaving his body, the last remnants of his nerves melting away. “Thanks for… you know, making it easier.”

You grin, squeezing his hand as you lean over, brushing a soft kiss against his lips. “You didn’t need my help,” you murmur, your voice warm and sure. “You’re a natural.”

[stxrryskys]

Daisuke smut but like he gets way too excited and starts to be a little rough then you realize you kinda like it YK???

AHH MORE DAISUKE SMUT‼️‼️‼️

sorry for the late post guys 😟😟 sometimes I get really depressed and don't feel like doing anything 😟😟😟 BUT IM HERE‼️

C/W : First time having sex in a whiiillle, established relationship, use of pet names, P IN V!!! consent consent consent guys consent!! uhhhh mating press, overstimulating, NO FOREPLAY, AFAB reader, rough! dom Daisuke, might be ooc but i don't rlly care... >,< enjoy!!

"c'mon! please please please!! we havent had sex in like.. FOREVER!!"

"No! i am not having sex in a goddamn spaceship!" he had been begging you for literally hours to fuck you in the tulpar. If you really didn't want to he would've stopped begging after the first "no" that left your pretty lips but the exact words that came out of your mouth " I want to Daisuke but its really risky"

"Please baby! ill let you play on my Nintendo!" welp that was the only bit of convincing he had to do at that point

"okay! but i get to keep it in my Quarters for a whole week!"

"Jeez! seriously? it was that easy?!" you both walked your happy little butts to his quarters and shut the door behind you.

"ah! im so excited we havent done this in forever" he sighed dramtically as he took his silly little Hawaiian blazer off, leaving his shirt on the floor after it, he was not by any means ripped like captain curly but his body was just as attractive, toned abs{surprisingly consider he doesn't work out} a cute little mole on the right side of his abdomen, and a silver bellybutton piercing, it made you fold every time you saw it. while you were staring time flew by, by like 5 minutes because he was already stripped down to his socks.

"Are you gonna undress silly or do you want me to do it for you?" he said in a playful tone, going up to your and resting his hands on your hips leaning in close, your face just centimeters apart

"dont push it pretty boy" you poke his chest with you finger as you stepped back, lifted your hands to take of your shirt.

when the both of you stripped you both stood there for a few minutes confused on how to start this. but it seems you both had different thoughts while standing there, he was standing there admiring you while you were standing there contemplating how to start this

"God, love you're so fucking beautiful..." with that he basically climbed on top of you, pinning you against his bed, his ALREADY hard cock resting on your stomach as he placed sloppy kisses all over your neck

"You're hard already?! we literally haven't even done anything!"

"shh, you're just so *peck* beautiful *peck* I couldn't help *peck* myself " he spoke between kisses, gently moving down to suck on your collarbone, leaving a light pink mark.

''this is okay, Yeah?"

"of course,"

he moved his hand down, wrapping his hand around his cock, moving it closer to your wet pussy

"Hey! why were you making fun of me for being hard when you're sopping wet!"

"Shh! this is a judge free zone you_-Ah!" NO PREPPING NO FOREPLAY NO NOTHING, he slid in like it was NOTHING!

"S-sorry I couldn't stop myself " he didn't give you any time to adjust to his length and just started to move in and out of you, hard.

"Fuck! you're so fucking tight..." he grabbed both of your legs and lifted them to where your knees were touching your chest so he could get better access, it was almost like you were being manhandled, he was being super rough and you..liked it? you didnt know how to describe it but, you really enjoyed it.

"Daisuke- y-you're being super Ah! f-fuck! " You arched your back,gripping onto the sheets of his bed that were barley even on his bed btw.

He paused his movements, his grip on your ankles "Sorry sorry! Am i-am i being too rough? i can stop if you-

"no! please don't stop.. j-just continue...please"

"d-do you like it..?"

"yes! just keep going Daisu-ngh!"

hearing that you liked it when he was rough was like heaven. He had wayy to much energy when it came to sex but he always held back because he was scared of hurting you, but since you gave him the okay he didn't hold back. He tightened his grip on your ankles and thrusted faster and harder. He moved one of his hands from your ankle to your clit, rubbing the sensitive bud hard with his thumb-

"Baby! I-im gonna cum-! "

"Yeah.. Cum for me love.. "

You tried your best to match his thrusts but he was just going too fast

You bucked your hips and came all over his cock, but he didn't stop

"Shit! Daisuke t-to much! "

He didn't still, he continued to rub your clit and continued to thrust into you, it was to much, tears pricked your eyes

"Daisuke!"

Again, he didn't stop, you came again on his cock and he just continued...

4 orgasms later he pulls out, letting go of you ankles and letting you legs dangle off his bed, jerking his cock in his hands, finishing on your tummy, then toppling over you, wrapping his arms around you.

"I uhm.. Thank you.. I really needed that"

"No, thank you"

".... I love you"

"I love you too Daisuke"

...

"I still get to play your Nintendo? Right? "

THANK YOU! SORRY IT WAS SHORT BRO I'M RUSHING‼️🙏😣 REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

[gibberishfangirl]

WINDBREAKER | twinzies

Synopsis ✰ being a couple consists of matching doesn’t it?

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Akihiko Nirei, Toma Hiragi, Mitsuki Kiryu, Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama

Contains ✰ sfw!, established relationship, matching accessories/items, teasing, couple goals tbh, fluff, literally just cutest couple stuff

when matching with Sakura ᡣ𐭩 it had to be kept simple and light. if you suggested anything too much or something too obvious he might have a heart attack. in all honesty the fact that you two had matching phone charms didn’t even register all that much in his head. he’d notice a cute mini miffy charm that you had connected to your phone and stare at it. he wouldn’t even realize the amount of the times you caught him looking at it. you thought it was cute to see your boyfriend be intrigued by the same things you liked. it inspired you to get him the same one you had for his. you surprised him with it and he’d blush while saying ���thanks… whyd you get me one?” “no reason, just thought it would look cute on your phone too.” your smile would make him even more flustered as he was quick to put it on. a few days went past and sakura was slightly memorized by the gift, he’d play with it when he had free time or spend him time just looking at it. one time when he was fidgeting with it Nirei distracted him by saying “hey that’s a cute phone charm sakura! doesn’t your girlfriend have the same one?” “oh yeah… she does.” another blush was found creeping up his face as he realized you two have the same exact charm.

Umemiya ᡣ𐭩 wasn’t by any means a shy guy so whenever it came to matching or expressing any sort of affection he had no issue with it. he would want to do anything that would make you happy and he also liked the idea of showing off your relationship even more. you were all his and he’d let the entire world know if he could. no amount of teasing or comments could ever make him retract his feelings. even if it meant the teasing would leak into his meetings and personal conversations. “you’re not a dog y’know, wearing a chain with their name on it? just buy yourself a collar at that point.” Hiragi would tease, not meaning his words but just trying to get a reaction out of Ume. not that it worked, Ume knew exactly what he was trying to do. “no need to be so bitter Hiragi, i still care about you. don’t feel like you’re getting replaced.” Ume would pat Hiragi’s back sympathetically as if he were consoling him to which Hiragi would just roll his eyes at. it was impossible to make Ume feel any ounce of shame. especially when it was about his personal relationship with you.

when you mentioned matching couple’s clothing Suo ᡣ𐭩 was a bit caught off guard. not that he was against it by any means, it’s just that he didn’t think you’d be the type to suggest it. the matching essence was more minimalist than anything since the two of you would coordinate the outfits to go together. you two would have matching shoes and simple jewelry. you would wear a black skirt while he wore black pants and then have matching colored shirts (different styles, same color). anyone who saw you two apart wouldn’t assume you’d have a matching twin but it made sense whenever you two were reunited. you loved to do this whenever the two of you went on dates and Suo loved the way your eyes lit up when you planned out the outfits. it was a win win situation for everyone. most people would compliment your outfits or stare in awe at how adorable the two of you were. even if the date was interrupted by running into some of his friends it would still be fun. All of them would typically compliment the two of you and comment on how well you two look together. Sakura was a bit more on the shy side so he would blush at the sight of your relationship in general. he might have to stop staring at you guys after realizing that you’re matching, the cuteness would be too much of him. he would secretly wish he had someone to do that with.

it was Nirei ᡣ𐭩‘s idea to match. not that it was surprising to hear that he wanted to have matching accessories. he absolutely adores you and it’s hard for him to purchase only one thing for himself when he knows you would also love it just as much. he was for sure a little cheesy with some of the accessories such as the matching necklaces that were a heart and a key. SO CHEESY AND CLICHE but you can’t bring yourself to even cringe at the sweet boy as he was excited to show you it. you eventually settled with the heart while he got the key. you know since he had the key to your heart. pained you to stay out loud but his bright smile made it worth it. he literally never takes it off he doesn’t even bother to shove the necklace into his shirt he always has it out on display. the necklaces were actually somewhat subtle whenever the two of you were apart but whenever anyone saw the two of you it finally made sense. you could never tell your sweet boy no whenever he brought something new and cheesy to match. …even if it meant wearing ridiculous tee shirts.

honestly… Hiragi ᡣ𐭩 didn’t see the point in matching. not that he’d ever say that out loud. he does whatever you want but he genuinely didn’t understand why couples would match or what it’s supposed to signify… if it even has a meaning? he definitely isn’t too experienced in the dating department let alone in a relationship that actually shows a lot of affection. no matter how silly the item was or how out of character it was in comparison to him he would never reject any gift of yours. he also sure as hell would never even let anyone dare to make a funny comment about it either. especially not in front of you. he most likely has hit the boys a couple of times for trying to tease him about it in front of you. they would quickly get shut down by catching an elbow to their gut. nonetheless, as much as he tried to avoid it from happening he caught himself also starting to like the concept of it little by little as the days went on.

matching with Kiryu ᡣ𐭩 had a more sentimental effect to it. especially since you two were quite picky about it. it wasn’t something you two did often or really planned out. that’s what made the matching heart lockets you got on your anniversary so special. when you opened them up they were customized with a special message you two secretly made for one another on one side and the other side had a photo. Kiryu was a romantic he couldn’t help fidgeting with the locket in his spare time and glancing at the photo of you in it every couple hours. your cheesy smile in it would bring a subtle blush to his cheeks and he would remember the exact moment he first had taken that photo. not to mention it was a huge pick me up booster whenever he felt the tiniest bit down. all he had to do was look in his locket and he would find the motivation to go on with his day with ease.

Togame ᡣ𐭩 found it cute whenever he noticed you begun to copy his style. he found it funny how you began to look like a mini him by stealing his hoodies and shirts. soon enough he started to learn more about what looks good on you and flatters you. he loves how you look in the oversized streetwear style, he thinks you look cool but will never say it to your face in order to keep you humbled. last thing he wants is for your ego to skyrocket and for you to rub it in his face that you look better in his style than he does. even though he knows it’s the truth. anyway if you really think about it, you only look cool because you’re wearing his stuff so he should take the credit for it. however, now whenever he shops he tends to buy two of the same item since he can’t help but imagine how much cooler you’d look with him on your side. so in the end matching was technically his idea and you never caught on to the fact that you two were matching a lot until you started to receive compliments about how cute it was.

matching with Choji ᡣ𐭩 was subtle in a way that no one really even knows or realizes the two of you have matching items. the only ones who know about it are you two and you both don’t mind that. you both have matching items such as plushies, random items, or room decor. you both had a lot of the same interests and would accidentally buy each other the same items for the holidays or as gifts. it was funny as it was never intentional. there were so many times where the two of you would purchase something for one another and had to fight back the urge to keep it for yourself. only to find out that the other got you the exact same thing anyway. you both know each other so well sometimes it felt like you were the same person. it’s surprising how no one has even noticed that you two constantly wear the exact same pair of headphones everyday. yes. you both gifted each other the same style headphones in the exact same color.

[cherryswisherz]

KARMIC BALANCE ✷ CHAPTER III

✷WARNINGS cursing, pining??? idk. mention of the nd game and h*annah h*dalgo

✷NIYAH SPEAKS aye we back! this one is just paiges pob

✦✦✦✦

SENIOR YEAR

We lose to Notre Dame every year. 

Every. Fucking. Year. 

And now that I’m home in Storrs, looking at everyone as they try to mask their disappointment, I feel the loss even more. 

Which is why I’m walking around in the middle of night, the December air biting into my skin. I can’t stop thinking about everything that went wrong. Why everything went wrong. 

I honestly have no fucking clue why, but I know what went wrong. Everyone does. Our defense was lousy, our shots were horrible, we got too tired. I could go on, but that won’t fix anything. 

I find myself at Xavi and Janes house before I realize it. I tell myself that it’s because Yanna’s there, and not because of the wisdom that Xavia seems to have about every aspect of life. 

When Xavia opens the door wearing a smile and a moo moo, I ignore that bubly feeling in my chest and ask to come in. 

Once inside, I see her apartment is almost completely dark. The big lights are off, the living room being lit only by a candle and two lamps in opposite corners. 

“So, what’s up P?” Xavi asks, running her hands down the silk of her moo moo. “It’s almost midnight and you’re usually dead to the world by 9.”

Knowing that Xavia knows my bedtime makes me smile for reasons I don’t want to admit. 

When I first met her, Xavia was like a mystery. She was funny and smart and absolutely fucking beautiful. She’d apologized for making a false assumption about me. It was the first and only time anyone had ever done that and I never forgot it. 

When she and Jane started coming around more, I forced myself to swallow the want I had to learn more about her, to learn from her because I knew that if I’d gotten to the root of who she was, I’d be even more enthralled than I already was at that point. 

Eventually my heart stopped beating so fast around her. I’d stopped avoiding being within 3 feet of her and trained myself to treat her like I’d treated all my other friends. 

Because that’s what she is. My friend. 

It didn’t matter that her not worshipping ground I walked on excited me. It didn’t matter that almost every conversation we had alone rested in the back of my mind at all times. 

Xavia is my friend and that’s all she’d ever be. 

“Yeah I know. I just can’t get the ND game outta my head and I thought Yanna would be here to talk to.”

I’m lying and I know it. Whether Yanna was here or not, I would have found a way to talk to Xavi. I always did. Not because I wanted to be around her, but because she always had the answer to whatever problem that I have. Anyone would do the same if they’d stopped to pay attention when she was trying to get a word in. 

“Oh, yeah, she’s not here.” Xavi pointed a thumb to the back of her house, where Her and Jane’d bedroom’s were. Her locs swayed with the turn of her head. “Her and Jane went to Urgent Care cause she hit her shoulder on the wall and-” She waves her hands anxiously, as if she doesn’t feel like explaining a complex situation. “It was a whole thing. I’m sure you’ll hear about it tomorrow.”

I know I should be worried about my teammate who can’t seem to stay healthy. And I am. I make a mental note to check in on Yanna at some point, but right now, I’m thinking of a way I can stay and talk to Xavi without making it a thing.

“Oh…” is what I came up with. 

“You can talk to me?” Thank. God. “ If you want.”

Of course I fucking want. It’s all I’ve done for the past three years. 

I want to be a better person. 

I want to be 19 again and do everything differently. 

I want to win the championship this year. 

But all those wants are null and void for the biggest want of all. 

I want to get drafted to the WNBA.

And I’ve made  too many shitty decisions to get there to just throw it all away. So what if I’m miserable?

“Uh, yeah. That’s cool.” I play off my desperation and take a seat on her orange bean bag. 

Xavi plops down on the couch in front of me, crossing her legs and folding her hands. All her attention is on me and a part of me feels like I don’t deserve the attention of this amazing woman. But a bigger part is screaming that this is how it should be. 

Me, admiring every part of her, and her, willing and ready for anything I give her. 

Of course, in this situation all she wants is to know what’s on my mind, but I would give her whatever else she could think up. 

“So whatcha thinkin ‘bout?”  She asks sweetly. 

Her voice isn’t obnoxiously high. It’s kinda deep and mellow, just like she is.

“Um… I just can’t get over everything.” I shake my head and look at my hands. Hands that are supposed to get me everywhere I want in life.  “Like, I get why we lost. What we did wrong on the basketball front. But we were off the other day. We’d run those plays over and over again in practice. Studied film. We should have been prepared, but we were just off.  Like no matter how hard we tried, we just couldn’t get there.”

Xavia nods her head like she understands everything I’m saying. 

“Like everything was against you guys?” she questions. 

“No. I don’t think that anything was unfair. I think that our all just wasn’t enough.”

“Well, I know you can’t speak for anyone else, and I’d never ask you to. But why do you think you were off that night?”

She sounds like a therapist. The kind that isn’t just trying to fix you, but trying to understand you. The kind that hangs on to every word, but not to hold it against you.

“I don’t know. I just kept getting madder and madder and it threw me off. I did everything I was supposed to do.”

She looks confused now. “What do you mean ‘supposed to do’?”

“Like everything I thought was right. Everything I've always done.”

“Maybe that’s the issue.” 

Now I’m confused. 

“What?”

Following my routine has taken me and my team to the Final Four, and for Xavi to tell me it’s wrong stings a little. 

“Maybe doing everything you’ve always done isn’t the answer. Paige, you’re a somewhat mature adult. Do you honestly think you’re right all the time?”

What does she mean ‘somewhat’ mature? 

“...No?”

“Right.” Xavi sounds so sure of herself, leaning in and starting to talk with her hands like she does when she’s talking about her coursework or something equally as interesting to her. “It’s impossible to be right in every situation because every situation is different. When you throughout your daily life, do you treat every person the same? Do you go into every conversation with the same mindset, expecting the same outcome?”

I mean most people are the same, so what else am I supposed to do?

“Kinda, yeah.”

“Well that’s no bueno, babe.” She huffs out, pointing at me. Then, she entrances me again with her hands as she speaks. “ Every human is different. They have different pasts, and different views. Even if the difference between one person and another is miniscule, it’s there. And that difference is why it’s so important that we don’t generalize people.”

I know she’s stopped talking but I’m so caught up in her voice, and her hands and her face, and her to contribute to the conversation.

“Are you understanding?” She asks, seemingly genuinely concern with whether I’m comprehending what she’s telling me. 

And the answer is no, I’m not understanding. Whether there’s a differenc eor not, each person want the same thing and should be dealt with the same, based on what they want. 

This is the code fucking live by,a nd she’s sitting her debunking it in the most intellectual, attractive way possible.

“Not really.”

“Okay so like…” She sighs, pauses to think and then continues. “Do you remember when we first met? When I assumed you were a whore like alot of college athletes are?”

The reminder of our first interaction brings a calmness to me. I remember everything abou that night in her dorm. She wore sweats with no bra, and I’m pretty sure she was stoned.

“Yeah of course. You apologized to me that night and it kinda weirded me out.”

“Right.” Xavia snapped her fingers, bringing me out of my memory. “I apologized to you, because I generalized you and made an assumption based on one aspect of your identity. And I think it weirded you out because you’d generalized every person who’d made an assumption about you. I guess it’s rare that people apologize after being an asshole to you.”

It was rare. So rare that she’s the only person who’d ever done it.

“Okay…”

“So. Incourpurating that into basketball. Every team is different.”

I nod my head to let her know I was following. “Of course.”

“Okay and so every player on every team is different too.”

She lost me.

“No.” Now I’m the one leaning forward, talking with my hands. “They all move as a team. Yes, they have differences, but they’re all working together.”

“I see it differently.” She shrugs like she’s the master of basketball and done copious amounts of research on the psyche of an athlet.  “I feel like every player on that court moves individually. Do they play for the same team, and have the same goal? Of course. But they’re all different. They all have different thoughts and concerns and ideas. You said that girl Hannah was the head of the snake, but I think you should see it differently.”

“How so?”

“Instead of thinking of a team as one snake, think of it like… Like cheetahs!”

“Cheetahs?”

“Cheetahs.” She finalizes. “Once the mama cheetah gives birth, she trains her cubs to survive in any situation. To adapt to any surroundings. She teaches her cubs how to kill different animals, to hide, all that. Eventually, the cubs form a sibling group and go out together to execute everything their mother has taught them. Are you getting the analogy?”

When she’s explaining it in laymans terms, of course I get it. She could probably explain thermodynamics to me and I’d understand it fully. Xavia just has a way of making everything in life seem so simple. It’s wonderful, really.

“Yeah. Like the coach is the mother, the players are the cubs.”

“Right. But each cub is different. There’s a more dominant one, there’s submissives and then theirs the runts. Each one has to edit their mothers lessons to make it useful to them individually. Does that make sense?”

I’ve decided that she’s blown my mind enough for tonight, once again by being right about everything. So I just chuckle and dismiss the topic.

“How do you come up with this shit, Xavi?”

She laughs like a seductress and leans back on the couch, “I dunno. I read alot.”

You read alot? Reading alot has given you the ability to break down a sport like you’ve played it your whole life?

“Well thank you for sharing your knowledge with my dumbass, oh wise one.”

I stand up from the beanbag and make my way to the door, ready to take my exit.

“I’m not wise, I just see from a different point of view than you. Sometimes you gotta get outta your head.”

“I guess.” I sigh, then open my arms. “Thanks, Xavi.” 

She steps into me, her head just below my chest and wraps her arms around me. Her body is warm, but the silk she’s wearing cold. She doesn’t hug me tight or aggressively. Just stands there with her arms around my waist. 

It feels terrifyingly comfortable. 

“Anytime P.” she mutters, pulling away and ushering me out of her home. 

The whole walk back, my mind is on her and everything she said. 

How is it that this girl that is the exact opposite of everything I’m looking for, seems to be everything I need?

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[leftoverghosts]

in the valley of shadow

hades!art x persephone!reader. past art x tashi.

"I'd rather hurt with you than be happy with anyone else."

warnings: dark obsessive art ala hades. use of she/her for reader. no use of y/n. not beta read.

nori says: sfw—i know i said blurbs would be nsfw, but obsessive art takes a lot of me!! crazy to get this same quote for him twice, but i had so much fun!!! as always, xoxo.

word count: 2,000?~

You were twenty three, freshly graduated and just beginning to dip your toes into the world of professional tennis. The bright lights, the buzzing crowds, the endless possibilities—all of it felt like a dream. But among all the faces and all the players, one stood out to you like no other.

Art Donaldson.

Seven years your senior, he was a legend amongst Stanford Alumni and seemed to embody everything you strived to become. His confidence on the court seemed unshakable. Yet, there was something about him that held a shadow, a darkness that made you wonder if there was more beneath that perfection his wife demanded of him.

You first crossed paths with him at a Donaldson Foundation event—an annual gathering where up-and-coming talents like yourself were invited to volunteer with children who had an interest in tennis.

You’d always admired him from afar, reading about his triumphs, watching his old matches, and marveling at how effortlessly he dominated the game. But meeting him face-to-face left you speechless. His gaze was penetrating, as if he could see right through you.

"How’s it feel to be the next big thing?" he asked with a knowing smile, his warm voice enveloping you.

It was a simple question, one you could have easily answered thanks to your media training in college. But as you looked into his eyes, something inside you stirred.

“I’m just starting out. Still have a long way to go,” you gesticulated wildly, trying to appear humble.

He chuckled, a sound that was full of harrowing amusement. “We all start somewhere, but not all of us get to where we want to go.”

You smiled nervously, but the words stuck in your throat. He was magnetic. Something about him made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t felt before.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

From then on, whenever you found yourself in the same vicinity as the Donaldsons, Art would make a point to seek you out. Your discussions were never long, but they always left you feeling exhilarated.

When you won, his compliments were overflowing. But when you lost, his analysis of your gameplay felt like a puzzle, filled with subtle warnings. You told yourself it was just his love for the game and his drive to push those around him to be their best.

It would have been easy to romanticize his intensity, to make excuses for the way his eyes lingered a bit too long or how his questions about your career felt overly personal, but you gave him the benefit of the doubt.

He was married, you knew that.

Tashi was always by his side, a constant presence that kept him grounded in the public eye. But there were moments when you could see the cracks in their united front. They manifested in the way he looked at you during the press events, or how he’d make a point of saying goodnight to you in crowded rooms when the evening grew late.

You convinced yourself that it was all harmless. That Art saw something in you, as a fan and a mentor of sorts. A fellow athlete who could understand the sacrifices, the pressures of the game.

He had a way of making you feel desired, whether it was a fleeting touch on your arm or a lingering look that made your heart race. You wanted his attention, and he gave it to you. But you were naive enough to believe it was just admiration.

It wasn't until later that you realized Art wasn't someone who admired from afar— he wanted to consume you.

There was a moment—a turning point—that you would look back on, your heart in your throat, wondering what you’d been thinking.

You were alone in a back hallway of a hotel during a tournament. Tashi was elsewhere, surrounded by other players and the media, and Art had found you, waiting for you just outside the elevator.

“I saw you play today,” he said softly, tenderly moving away the hair from your face. He was too close for this to be considered friendly, but you didn’t push at him. “You have something, you know. Something special.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, feeling your cheeks flush under his touch.

"With the right team behind you, you could be more than just a player," he continued, pressing you against the wall as his voice dropped even lower. "You could be everything. Let me help you."

It wasn’t the words that alarmed you. It was the way he said them, as if he had already planned your future for you. The weight of his gaze felt like chains.

“I don't need anyone's help," you blurted out before pausing to think. “I’m doing this on my own.”

Something shifted in Art's expression, for just a moment, he looked almost vulnerable. He wasn't just the fierce and intense athlete you idolized; he was human. “You don’t have to be alone.” He brushed his lips against yours softly, “I can show you how much more you can be. How much more you can have.”

And that was when it hit you—the real reason you were drawn to him. It wasn’t the tennis. It wasn’t the accolades or the fame. It was that, for the first time, someone powerful had noticed you. Someone who could offer you everything— success, the world, and something darker and more alluring than you ever imagined.

But before you could respond, before you could step closer to the edge of that precipice, a voice called from down the hall, pulling you back to reality.

It was Tashi, her tone commanding, and when Art turned to look at her, there was a fleeting trace of annoyance on his face.

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he offered you a small, almost sad smile, and then turned to walk away.

You stood there, breathless, heart pounding in your chest.

You had slipped from his grasp. For now.

But you knew that Art was a man who didn’t let go easily.

And sooner or later, he would come for you again.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The locker room was eerily silent, save for the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead. Another win on the court meant nothing to you, as the weight of failure in your personal life pressed against your bones. Your racket bag sat slumped against the bench, abandoned like a forgotten piece of yourself. You rubbed at your temples, exhaustion and frustration clawing at you in equal measure.

“You played well,” came a voice from the doorway, warm and unmistakable.

Frightened, you looked up.

Art stood there, leaning casually against the inside frame of the only exit. He was dressed impeccably, as always—dark slacks and a perfectly tailored dress shirt you had given him, made him look more like a businessman than a retired athlete. His piercing blue eyes, with that gorgeous speck of brown, were locked onto you with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

In one hand, he held a bottle of pomegranate juice— your favorite drink.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice clipped, though you already knew the answer. Art was not one to listen to mortal things like court orders.

“I’m your coach, remember?” he shrugged, stepping inside as the door swung shut behind him. “It’s my job to be here for you.”

You stood up, putting the bench between you and the man who you hoped would soon be your ex-husband. “I told you I don’t want this anymore. I don’t want you anymore.”

If anything, your words seemed to amuse him. “You’re upset,” he said calmly, as though addressing a child. “You’re not thinking clearly. I’ve done everything to help you—your sponsorship, your career, your success. That’s all because of me.”

Your stomach turned, upset that you were unable to deny those words in their entirety. “You manipulated me. You isolated me from everyone who mattered. I didn’t ask for any of this!”

“Those distractions?“ Art’s jaw tightened, but his voice remained steady, one of his eyebrows raised in question. “You think they cared about you the way I do? No one else would go to these lengths for you. No one else could understand you like I do.”

“This isn’t understanding, Art. This is control.”

“Control?” he echoed softly, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. He was a man full of contradictions—each calculated move wrapped in a smile. For every decision made without your knowledge, there had been a kiss or a whisper to try and soothe your apprehension. It had worked before, and there was no reason to believe it wouldn't work now. To him, this was a tantrum that he was tired of waiting for you to finish. “Is that what you think this is? No. This is love. Love that no one else will ever be capable of giving you.”

“I’ve heard this before, Art. You’re hurting me like she hurt you.” You did not have to say Tashi’s name to be understood by him. She had been the one before you, the one who had owned him, in a way that still haunted him, even now. The thought of her, the reminder that Art’s heart had belonged to someone else, made a bitter knot tighten in your chest. It wasn’t just about jealousy—it was about the fear that he would never truly be yours the way he had been hers. “You still think about her,” you accused, your voice trembling with inadequacy.

“It’s not her, it’s you,” he replied, shaking his head. “I’m always thinking of you. I’d rather hurt with you than be happy with anyone else.” You sucked in a breath, upset that his declaration excited you and he knew—he knew the power he held over you, and he would never relinquish it.

He had already decided your fate. He was your captor, and you were his prize.

“I’m leaving,” you said, your voice fearful but resolute. “You can’t stop me.”

Art’s gaze flickered, and for the briefest moment, you thought you saw something crack beneath his calm facade. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by a chilling certainty.

“Try,” he said, his lips curling into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. His voice, low and laced with menace, seemed to echo in the space around you. “You don’t understand, do you? This isn’t something you can just walk away from. Not anymore. We’re married.”

The words hit you like a thunderclap, the truth of them shattering the last vestiges of resistance in your chest. Art wasn’t just a man obsessed with you. He was a man willing to destroy everything in his path to keep you by his side. The world you thought you could escape to was gone. You were his wife, bound to him in ways you hadn't yet fully understood until now.

You frozen in place as he took a slow step forward, and watched as his gaze was drawn to the small but noticeable tan left behind by the missing wedding ring on your finger. His brand.

You could sense his anger just by the way his lips slightly parted as he reached for the bottle of juice and unscrewed the cap, taking a slow, deliberate sip before offering it to you. You gaped at the bottle in his hand.

A rush of panic flooded your chest, but before you could speak, Art closed the distance between you. His fingertips brushed against your cheek as he forcefully pulled you towards him, crushing his lips onto yours. The kiss was hard, demanding, as if he were pulling your very soul from your body. His tongue slipped past your lips, and you whimpered, caught in the web of his obsession.

The taste of pomegranate juice lingered on your palate, sweet but tainted, just like everything else Art had ever given you.

He pulled back just enough to whisper, his breath warm against your skin. "We are one. As we were always meant to be."

Your pulse raced, heart pounding, as you tried to regain some semblance of control, but his grip on you was relentless. He wasn’t letting you slip away again, not after everything he’d done to claim you.

And with every second you stood there, you could feel the walls closing in, just like the dark, silent underworld that had already begun to welcome you home.

[weemssapphic]

Split in half

Larissa Weems x f!reader

This is a part two to We're not who we used to be set a few months after that fic, from Larissa's POV. It's just as angsty as part one, maybe even worse. It's inspired by the song Stick Season by Noah Kahan. Enjoy 😅

Words: ~1.5k | ao3 link in title

And I love Vermont, but it's the season of the sticks And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed And it's half my fault, but I just like to play the victim I'll drink alcohol 'til my friends come home for Christmas And I'll dream each night of some version of you That I might not have, but I did not lose Now you're tire tracks and one pair of shoes And I'm split in half, but that'll have to do

-

“Ow - fuck!”

It takes Larissa’s eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness blanketing her quarters. She steadies herself against the little table by the door and squints at the floor as she searches for whatever she’s just tripped over that caused her to ram her hip into the corner of said table. 

Now she remembers - she’d changed her mind about her heels that morning and left the initial pair next to the door. She sighs and kicks off the heels she’s wearing now, leaving them lying haphazardly next to the others.

She walks towards the kitchen, not bothering to turn on the light now that her eyes have adjusted to the darkness. Pain blooms in her hip, growing sharper with each step - she can already feel the deep purple bruise forming across her hip bone. She opens the fridge and stoops down, the bright, fluorescent glow shooting straight through her eyeballs into her already throbbing skull, making her eyes water. The fridge is nearly empty and Larissa groans in frustration as she closes its door and blindly reaches for the cabinets above the stove instead, running her fingertips across the smooth, familiar wood as her eyes adjust again.

Her fingers bump into the little brass handle and she opens the cabinet, pulling out the first bottle she finds. Whiskey. She opens another cabinet and takes out a crystal tumbler, then pads across her quarters to her little balcony, clutching both bottle and tumbler to her chest. 

A chill seeps through her stockings and straight into her bones as she steps outside, and she grits her teeth as she lowers herself onto the oversized pillow she’d taken out here when she first started spending her evenings after work out on the balcony. 

It’s a lot colder tonight than it was those weeks - or has it been months? - ago. Fall is as good as over, the trees barren of their gorgeous red and orange foliage, but winter hasn’t fully started yet either, the first snowfall having yet to make an appearance.

Larissa pours some of the amber liquid into the tumbler, raising it to her lips and tossing it back in one go. It burns her throat and the swift motion smudges her lipstick, not that that matters. It warms her a little from the inside, so she pours herself another.

She supposes she could do something productive, or at least try to distract herself, but there’s not really a point - she can’t read books or watch films or even knit without spending the entire time trying to reign in her wandering thoughts. Even her work is suffering as a result.

She should’ve seen it coming, really, you leaving her. After all, she thinks bitterly, as her thoughts once again hone in on you, she had been rather absent in your marriage. Even when you told her you were moving out, that you were done trying, she could hardly wrap her head around it. Hardly believe it was actually over.

On the day you’d left, she’d woken up to a horribly loud rummaging in the closet. It was a Sunday, and she remembered the pang of irritation that mixed with her confusion, the frustration that you’d woken her early on the only day she ever slept in. She’d remembered readying herself to berate you, tasting the words on her sharp tongue as she’d pushed herself up onto her elbow - the words dying just as quickly as they’d come when her sleep-filled eyes were met with the sight of your half-full suitcase (the big one, the one you used for longer vacations) on the floor in front of the walk-in. 

Between stuffing everything from your underwear to a few framed photos into the suitcase, you’d explained your reasoning rather coolly for someone who usually wore her heart on her sleeve and cried at even comedy films - it had unsettled Larissa to see you so casual about leaving. Perhaps it was due to this that she didn’t say much. She didn’t say any of the things she should have said, any of the things you might’ve hoped she’d say or the things she wishes today that she had said. She’d watched you pack, nodding along to whatever you were saying about divorce lawyers - divorce? - and robotically seeing you to the door. 

Your tires had screeched a bit on your way down the driveway - the sound rings in Larissa’s ear as she tosses back another tumbler of whiskey.

Everything had passed so quickly after that, weeks and months blurring together. She’d signed the divorce papers in what she can, in hindsight, only describe as a fugue-like state, not realizing until much later the full consequences of her actions. And ‘much later’, apparently, translated into ‘too late’.

So I thought that if I piled something good on all my bad That I could cancel out the darkness I inherited from dad No, I am no longer funny, 'cause I miss the way you laugh You once called me forever, now you still can't call me back

One tumbler turns into two turns into three, and then she’s abandoned the glass in favor of drinking straight from the bottle. She pulls her phone out of the pocket of her blazer, scrolling to your contact as if on autopilot and staring at it as if it would suddenly come to life.

You’d forgotten an old pair of sneakers at the back of the closet. She’d told you when you’d stopped by with the divorce papers, and you’d told her to just throw them out.

Just throw them out.

It should be so easy. They’re dirty and they stink and the sole is peeling off on the right one. Every time Larissa sees them, she picks them up and wills herself to walk straight to the trash bin. She picks them up - then puts them right back, next to her own rarely-used running shoes.

Larissa clicks ‘call’. She lifts the phone to her ear as she waits, taking another gulp of whiskey. It doesn’t burn anymore.

Her throat gets tighter with every ring, a thin film of tears beginning to blur her eyes. After a few long minutes, the call goes to your voicemail - which is full - and Larissa’s tears spill over, clinging to her lashes before racing each other down her cheeks.

“Pick up, goddamnit!” she growls, her voice hoarse and wet. She tosses her phone angrily onto the floor beside her, not caring if it gets scratched.

There was a time when you’d have picked up the phone in the middle of a packed movie theater if it was her calling - now she hasn’t been able to get ahold of you since the divorce was finalized. It’s at least half her fault, she supposes, but she’s still angry at you for ignoring her. For leaving her. Even if she seemed intent on driving you away.

It’s getting late. Larissa knows this not because she’s checked the time, or because the moon is already high in the night sky, but because time always manages to slip away from her when she’s sitting out here, and because her ass is numb and her knees hurt from sitting in one position for so long. 

She pushes herself up, a bit shaky on her feet, nearly stumbling then steadying herself against the railing of the balcony. She bends, stumbling again, grabs the whiskey bottle by the neck, fumbles with the tumbler, then makes her way into her quarters, leaving her phone on the floor and the balcony door open behind her. It’s been so drafty in her quarters lately.

The bottle of whiskey is placed on the counter and, as Larissa goes to place the tumbler into the sink to be washed, it slips and shatters, shards of glass flying everywhere. She feels the warmth of her own blood on her finger before she feels the sting of the cut.

“Fuck!” 

A little bit of moonlight is streaming into the kitchen, and Larissa raises her finger into the light and stares at it, watching blood form a large bead on her fingertip, then slowly trickle down towards her hand. She sucks her finger between her lips, trying to stem the flow of blood. The metallic taste mixes with the whiskey on her tongue and, as she stands there in the darkness of her kitchen, she suddenly feels tired, so unbelievably tired.

She wants to call you again. She wants to tell your full voicemail box to go fuck itself, all she wants is to hear your voice. It’s all she wants yet it’s all she can’t do. 

-

And I'm split in half, but that'll have to do

x

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