#because it feels the same just far more intense now. but like what the fuck is it

[enfinizatics]

dear americans,

as a polish queer woman and human rights activist, i know exactly how you're feeling right now and what to expect from these elections. i lived through the 2015-2023 regime of pis, a right-wing populist party that divided families in the same way trump did. i’ve experienced the rise of fascism in poland, the influence of far-right parties like konfederacja, and their “santa’s little helpers”—ordo iuris, an ultra-conservative catholic organization (banned in many countries, mind you) that helped enforce a near-total abortion ban and runs anti-queer campaigns in public spaces. i supported the black protests in 2016 as a middle schooler when they first tried to ban abortion. as an adult, i actively participated in the 2020 women’s strike, running from police tear gas daily after they finally passed the ban. i supported friends who faced charges.

i’ve lived through intense homophobia in poland as a queer teen and adult. i survived the first pride march in my hometown, where far-right extremists threw stones and glass at us. i endured the anti-queer propaganda spread by the ruling party in state-owned media. i survived the “rainbow night,” poland’s own stonewall moment in summer 2020, when police arrested around 50 queer activists following the arrest of margo, a nonbinary activist. i survived the "lgbt-free zones," the targeted violence, the slurs from strangers on the street, and the protests i held against queerphobia. it was hard as fuck, but i survived.

but just because i survived, it doesn’t mean others did. many women died because of the abortion ban—marta, justyna, izabela, dorota, joanna, maria, and many others who didn’t survive pis’s draconian anti-abortion laws. milo, kacper, michał, zuzia (she was 12), wiktor, and other queer and trans kids and young adults took their own lives because of the relentless queerphobia.

despite all of this, our experience in poland can serve as a guide now. here are some tips for staying safe and how we, polish queers and women, organized under the regime:

safety first, always. if you know someone who’s had an abortion, no you don’t. if you know someone is trans, no you don’t. if you know people who help with safe abortions, no you don’t—at least not until you know it’s 100% safe to share. if you are queer or have had an abortion, only share this with people you trust fully. most importantly, not everyone has to be an activist just because they’re part of a minority. if it feels unsafe to share that you're queer, trans, etc., then don’t. it doesn’t make you any less queer.

use secure, encrypted messaging like signal for conversations on potentially risky topics, such as queerness, abortion, organizing counter-actions, protests—anything that might be used against you.

stay anonymous online. if you want to research or report something without surveillance, do not use regular internet. get a vpn (mullvad is affordable and reliable), download the tor browser (for both onion and standard links), and if you plan to whistleblow, consider using a riseup email account.

organize and build networks. community is everything now. support each other, foster independence, because your government won’t have your back. set up collectives, grassroots movements. create lists of trusted professionals—lawyers, doctors, etc.—who can offer support.

to lawyers and doctors: please consider pro-bono work. this is what got us through poland’s hardest times. your work will be needed now more than ever.

for protests or risky actions: always write a pro-bono lawyer’s number on your arm with a permanent marker.

get to know the anarchist black cross federation and other resources on safety culture: "Starting an anarchist black cross group: A guide"; Still We Rise - A resource pack for transgender and non-gender conforming people in prison; Safe OUTside the system by the Audre Lorde Project;

for safe abortion info or involvement: get familiar with womenhelpwomen.

stay radical, stay strong, stay informed: The Anarchist Library

if i forgot to (or didn't) include something, don't hesitate to reblog this post with other resources.

[sunniques]

— salacious fixation

cw/tw: hoon is mean and manipulative, yandere themes, daddy kink, size kink, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, mentions of previous rounds

minors do not interact. pt2

Sunghoon will be the first to admit that he won’t ever fuck the same person more than two times. It’s an unofficial rule he has, and he’s been able to stick by it for so long because he gets bored so easily. He’s never met anyone who’s been able to hold his attention for longer than a week.

This all changes when he meets you.

The moment he saw you taking shots with Jake, he was done for. Sunghoon felt like a creep for watching you all night, but he was physically unable to look away. Everything about you fascinated him. That night, he was only able to exchange a few words with you, but at the very least he was able to learn your name.

Getting to know you isn’t as easy as Sunghoon hoped. For some reason, you kept an annoying amount of distance from him. You always remained polite and cordial—sweet, even. Yet you always pulled away before he could get too close. It drove him insane and made his fixation more intense.

Finally, Jake let it slip one day that you disregarded him so much because one of your friends had a huge crush on him. Apparently you were a girls girl, or whatever. If Sunghoon were anyone else, he might’ve respected that. But he didn’t. At all.

It’s easy to get your friend to invite him over when you just happen to be hanging out with her. Because your friend is so infatuated with him, she’s quick to let him crash what was meant to be a girl’s night. Sunghoon can tell you’re not happy about it, but as always, you play the part of a sweet angel who goes with the flow.

It makes getting you alone that much easier.

“You’re leaving?” You exclaim, feeling your face heat up when you realize how loud your voice got.

“I’m just going to get some drinks,” your friend assured you, not at all concerned that she’s leaving you alone with her very hot crush. “I know you’re shy, but I won’t take a long time.”

You wonder why Sunghoon can’t go with her, or why she won’t let you leave so you don’t have to be a third wheel. Either way, she makes you promise to stay until she comes back, and you foolishly agree. After all, the liquor store is only thirty minutes away, and she assures you that she’ll be back quickly.

It turns out, it only took ten minutes for Sunghoon to have you naked and spread out on your friend’s bed. You feel like such a nasty slut, but somehow that just turns you on more.

According to Sunghoon, everything would’ve been so much easier if you gave into him from the beginning. Of course, it’s way too late for any of that now. He’s going to have to ruin all of your pretty little holes until he gets you out of his system.

At least, that’s what he thinks until he sinks his aching cock into your needy cunt. Once Sunghoon feels how tightly you’re gripping him, he knows he won’t ever be able to get enough. He’s so nasty, and it shouldn’t get you as wet as it does. However, all of your rational thoughts were shoved to the back of your mind after your pussy got creampied.

“F-Fuck!”

Your wanton cry is loud, rivaling the lewd squelching and skin slapping filling the room. Tears of pleasure stream down your face as Sunghoon fucks his huge, girthy cock into your tight pussy. Your mixed releases are pushed out of your cunt with every rough thrust and drip onto your friend’s bed, but her hot crush is far from done with you.

“S-Sunghoon, please!” You beg through your tears. “More!”

“Who?”

He sounds so mean and ravenous, but that only turns you on more. Your pussy tightens around him as you stain his cock with more of your cream. No one has ever fucked you so roughly before, but you love every second of it.

“Daddy, please!” You mewl into the mattress, face burning at the name he insisted you call him. “Fuck me harder!”

Sunghoon smirks as his large hands grip your ass to spread you open for him. You feel so hot and tight around him that he never wants to stop fucking you. After this, he’ll keep using you over and over until you’ve milked every last drop of cum from his balls.

“God, you’re fucking needy,” his grip is bruising. “Bet you love daddy stretching out this tiny little cunt, huh?”

You nod even though it feels like he’s splitting you in half. It hurts so good, and you know that you wouldn’t stop even if your friend were to walk in on you two right at this very second.

“Can’t believe this cute little pussy is taking my cock,” Sunghoon groans as he helps you bounce back on him. “Thought I’d need to train you a little more. Guess you were just desperate for some cock.”

You moan into the sheets, too fucked out to care about anything except the cock drilling into you and the hot guy it’s attached to.

“You’re so pretty, angel,” Sunghoon coos as his heavy balls slap against your pulsing clit. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Sunghoon groans in satisfaction when you squirt all over his cock. He licks his lips as his hips start to snap. You’re a fucked out mess underneath him, trembling on his cock from absolute pleasure.

“That’s it, baby. Get your friend’s sheets all dirty. Filthy fucking girl.”

All you can do is moan like a slut as Sunghoon fucks you like you’re his personal fucktoy. Part of you wants to finish before your friend gets back, but the other part never wants him to stop. Any guilt you felt has melted away. In a way, this was all her fault for not letting you leave when you first wanted to.

“Fuck. I’m gonna cum again,” Sunghoon roughly kneads your ass before he roughly slaps it. You jolt and cry out. “You want that, baby? Want me to fill this tight little cunt?”

“Yes, daddy!” You moan, as you deepen your arch. “Cum in my slutty little pussy. Want it so bad!”

With those needy words, Sunghoon shoots his hot spunk inside you. The loud moans you let out can be heard by your friend as she unlocks the door to her apartment, but Sunghoon only encourages those pretty noises as he fucks his cum deeper into your pussy.

[extervus]

OK I exercised by taking a walk through nature. Now what

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

28 / 1.7k / soap soulmate au, part 5

...

Soap stares at his name where it's inked across your skin. You should be his enemy. He's sitting across from you, your interrogator in this dimly lit weapons closet. You refuse to look at him. But his gaze bores into you anyway, intense on your eyes, your lips, the cuts and bruises on your face. He wants you. But he can only have you once you've given him the information Captain Price needs.

"Tell me where Alejandro is," he says. "That's all you need to do."

A muscle in your jaw twitches when he mentions Graves' name, but you bite your tongue. You won't let him shake your resolve like he did in Las Almas. You should've killed him on sight.

"What Graves is doing to Alejandro--you know it's wrong." Soap’s gaze is steady. You're so close. He wants you so badly it hurts. "He's not a good man.”

"You have no idea what kind of man he is," you say.

"I know exactly the kind of man he is," he growls. "I saw what he did to the people in Las Almas. He called them dirty cops and had them executed when they said they didn't know anything. Innocent people. In front of their families. Their children." Soap's hands curl into fists on the table between you. "He's not the kind of man who deserves your loyalty."

Your cuffs clink as your arms flex against the chair. "You wouldn't understand."

"You're right. I wouldn't." Soap's knuckles pop, his voice low and dark. All his life he's waited for you. Now Graves--fucking Graves, who betrayed Soap and his team and tried to murder them all--is somehow the one keeping you from him. "I don't understand what you see in that bastard."

You say nothing, eyes trained on the far wall.

Soap's shoulders tighten. "You're just a tool to him."

"I’m a soldier. I choose to follow orders. So do you.”

"You're following his orders. You think that makes you a soldier, being a weapon? No. Makes you a damn dog."

You say nothing.

Soap grips the table until it creaks. "You think he cares about you.”

"It doesn't matter if he does or not."

"It does so bloody matter. You’re no’ some pawn he can just throw away." God damn you. He wants to grab you with both hands and shake you. To hell with this interrogation--he's got half a mind to lock you down somewhere padded until you get it through your skull that you're not worthless. He scowls at you. "You're better than this. You have to be."

Cold irritation seeps through your mask. "Am I?" Soulmate or not, he doesn’t know you.

At the look on your face, Soap's scowl deepens. He's going to kill that bastard, and he's going to do it slowly. "What about Graves is more important to you than the innocent lives he took? Does that mean nothing to you?”

"Orders are orders."

Soap's voice drops to a dangerous pitch. "Look me in the eye and say that.”

You don’t. You tell yourself it’s because he has no power over you. He can’t tell you what to do.

Soap crosses his arms. "'S what I thought. You're bluffing."

"I'm not."

"Bullshit. Graves is nothing but Shepherd's lapdog. Gettin’ paid to commit goddamn war crimes.”

"Shut your mouth," you snap. "You have no idea what happened--"

You stumble on the next syllable and go silent, realizing suddenly that you're looking him in the eye.

Johnny's a man of impulse, and it takes all the self-control he has to keep himself in place the moment you lock eyes. The pull he feels to you right now is overwhelming. You're in reach. He leans forward. Those brilliant blue eyes of his see all the way down into your soul. They’re just the same as you remember--eerily vivid, pupils blown, with his jaw set hard.

"What happened to what, darlin'?"

You shift, skin prickling. You want to cross your arms over yourself and clap your hand over the soulmark on your neck. "You don't know what happened in Al Mazrah."

"You were ambushed."

You nod, remembering that night of the mission. You've seen your squadmates die before. It's a hazard of the job, part of being a mercenary. But that night--seeing so many Shadows gunned down before they could so much as draw their weapons--it still haunts you.

"Shepard didn't know. It wasn't like we-- it was supposed to be a simple transport mission."

"It was a black bag op."

"That's what Shadows do. We take missions people don't like. Someone has to step in where you military dogs won't."

"Where was Shepherd when it went tits up, hm?" Soap's lip curls. "No air support on an illegal op. He left you to be killed. And now he needs someone to blame. It's not gonna be him taking that bullet. It's gonna be you."

"Captain Graves can handle it."

Soap lets out a rough sigh. Your insistence on Graves is rubbing him raw. You could have died on that op two months ago. And then what? He'd have never met you, only found your name later in stone on some memorial somewhere. The thought makes his chest go cold and his blood run hot. It could still happen. If he can't tear you away from this bloody mercenary work, you'll never be his. Christ. He can't let that happen. He won't. You're not going back to the Shadow Company. He'll tear Graves into pieces before he lets that happen.

He fixates on your soulmark again. Why can't he focus on getting the information Price needs? All he can think about right now is the scab on your lip, the way your pupils dilate when you look at him. Your body wants his even as you're spitting venom. The fire in you matches his own, and he wants more.

"Graves isn't here," Soap tells you. "And I'm not takin’ chances. You’re not going back to Shepherd, and you’re sure as hell not going back to Graves. You're mine."

You pull on your cuffs, hating the way the possessive note in his voice makes your stomach flip. "You don't get to decide that."

"Neither do you.”

"Isn't a matter of choice. It's a matter of what you’re gonnae do about it."

You swallow and watch his gaze track down your throat. He's close. When did he lean in? Why aren't you pulling back?

No, you tell yourself, you’re not scared. You’re in control. You lean a millimeter closer. "You can't keep me here."

His eyes brighten, gaze so intense it warms your skin. "Careful, darlin'. You don't want to throw down that gauntlet."

"And you expect me to tell you whatever you want to know? Fuck my career, fuck my squadmates?"

"If you weren't so damn dense, I'd--" He mutters another string of curses in that thick Scottish accent, standing from his chair and pacing the tight room. "You don't understand what I'm offerin’. You don't need them. You have me an' mine."

He circles around to your side of the interrogation table and kneels next to you, his expression an open plea for you to listen. You stare down at him with your heart suddenly in your throat. You can't backpedal. You can't look away.

He searches your face. Even roughed up, even pissing him off, you're beautiful. Damn it, he's going to do something stupid if he doesn't control himself.

He keeps his voice low and even. "You were expendable to them. You're expendable to Graves. You're no' expendable to me." He reaches up to you, and you go still. His hand is hot on your skin. His grip is surely strong enough to break bone. But only his thumb drags along your lip. His eyes follow the motion. "Your loyalty should be for people who care about you. I'm on your side, ya wee shite. Just tell me how to get to Alejandro and I'll get you out of here. I'll make sure you're safe. That's all I need to know."

You stare down at him. Your heart beats in your ears, and his pulse hammers with yours. You can feel it through his thumb against the sensitive skin on your lower lip.

Johnny wants you so badly you almost give in. He thinks he's telling the truth--that he'll protect you. But he doesn't know any better. You're not who he wants you to be. You're not soft. You're not good. Why does he act like he can see something redeemable in you?

Being his soulmate doesn't guarantee you a goddamn thing. Promises don't afford you any more protection than you've already given yourself. You know that very well. People aren't reliable. Soulmarks don’t fix everything. They’re just ink.

Whatever he sees when he looks up at you makes something cold and sharp settle in his chest. His throat constricts. He's pushing, he knows he is, and it's the wrong move with you. He's never been this desperate for anyone.

"Darlin'. Don't do that. Don't shut me out." His voice wavers just like his resolve. He'd protect you to his last. You refuse to see that, and he can't make you.

You look away, pulling away from his hand. "I don't trust you."

Johnny's stomach drops, and he digs his fingers into the metal chair to stop himself from digging them into you.

You want him. He can see it in the set of your shoulders, how tight you hold yourself when he's close to you. You want him despite yourself, and you still refuse. It doesn't matter how rational a decision it should be to accept his help. There's something else happening in your head that's keeping your walls up, and he's starting to realize it's not just Graves. It can't be.

He watches you for a long moment. He doesn't want you to hurt, but he's not stupid enough to believe you'll soften up and come around with time. You're a soldier.

Finally, Soap stands. If you don’t tell him what he needs to know, you’ll remain a hostage, and won’t be able to have you. He won’t accept that.

"Fine," he says, pushing his way out the door. "We’ll do this the hard way."

...

← previous part / [part 5] / next part →

more Soap / masterlist tag

[bluejutdae]

• best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Minho x you

Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin

genre: friends to lovers

warnings: asshole date, nothing happens but reader thinks her date might follow her home

This night has been terrible so far. Your friend convinced you to go out with one of her colleagues to get over your crush for Minho, and you knew it was pointless, but she insisted so much you have lost the will to fight. So you wore a nice dress and a minute before you left the apartment, the guy texted you saying there was a change of plans and to meet two hours later and at a different location. Is the dating scene like this for everybody? You haven’t dated anyone for a long time, a bit because of how things ended with your last boyfriend but mostly because of the raging (unreciprocated) crush for Minho.

Minho’s now one of your closest friends, but you never actually gave up on your feelings for him. It’s almost comfortable, safe in a way, to love someone knowing things won’t change but won’t end either.

But for the sake of shutting up your friend, you are now in a very shitty situation. The guy is pretty, you’re mature enough to admit that, but he’s a major asshole. Even ignoring the last minute change of plans, the fact that he arrived 25 minutes later and apparently the new location is a nightclub. His hands have been on you the moment he introduced himself and the more you try to put some distance between you two, the more he’s all over you. You could just leave, that’s true. It’s also true that this guy is very set on never leaving your side and he’s so pushy you’re certain he wouldn’t hesitate to follow you home.

You wonder when Minho is going to be here so you can at least leave the club and have him keep you company, when you feel a hand grabbing your wrist. You turn to find the hand holding you belongs to Minho himself and he’s looking at you with a surly expression, teeth clenched and a frown between his eyebrows. “We’re going home.”

His voice is cold and firm, you’ve never heard him speak to you like that. Your date notices the scene and turns to Minho. “Woah dude, she’s mine tonight.”

Minho’s cold stare rests on the guy and at the same time your friend makes a step to place himself between you and your date. “She’ll never be yours, not tonight, not never. She belongs to me. Dude.” The last word was spat through Minho’s teeth, mocking and a bit cruel.

Words die on the guy’s tongue when Minho gets into his face and says something too quiet for you to hear.

A moment later he’s gently pushing you away and through the crowd, towards the exit.

“Well, that was intense,” you joke when you’re safe on the sidewalk.

“Don’t you ever put yourself into a situation like this. Ever again.” He’s on your face, almost screaming the words at you, anger contorting his face.

You can understand he was worried, but you don’t like the way he’s talking to you.

“Ya, Minho! Do you think I wanted that?” You raise your eyebrows. “I didn’t call you so you could scold me! I called you because I trusted you to help me, I know I was in a shitty situation!”

“And yet you still got into this situation!” He rebuts, and in this moment you hate him a little.

Why is he judging you like this? Why is he blaming you? Sure, you were a bit too naive but it’s not like you consciously decided to put yourself in a potentially dangerous situation.

“This clearly wasn’t what I expected.”

“No? You’re the one who decided to go to a club with a man you didn’t know. And you came alone! Was bringing a friend too easy?”

“Fuck you, Minho!”

You stalk away, towards the direction of the bus stop. Why is he mad at you now? He’s never been mean or cruel to you, despite what lots of people say about him, he’s a caring friend.

You can hear his footsteps getting close and you almost laugh at the thought that comes to your mind: you are always so focused on him, you can now recognize his footsteps.

“I parked in the other direction.”

“Then go the other direction. I don’t need you here. Sorry I bothered you. I won’t be your problem anymore.”

“You are my problem.”

“Oh, so I really am a problem to you.” You can believe him. All this because he had to come get you? You didn’t think it’d be such a hassle.

“Yes. You’ve been my problem since I met you.”

“You’re being so fucking cruel tonight, Minho.”

“I am not- can you stop walking?” He asks, sounding exasperated. You stop and face him, one hand on your hip and your lips pursed in disapproval. “So you can tell me more about how I’m a problem?”

“I didn’t say a problem.”

“You said exac-“

“I said MY problem! Emphasis on my. Because you’re not other people’s problem. And I don’t want you to belong to other guys, don’t want them to call you theirs! I want you to be mine.”

You stare at him for half a minute, silent and still. Putting aside the fact that he’s repeating the fact that you’re a problem, you try to read between the lines.

“Is this a fucked up way to tell me you have feeling for me?”

“Yes.”

This is ridiculous. Really ridiculous. Your crush has feelings for you. And the most backwards way of confessing. Well, considering he is Minho, it’s pretty in character for him. Still ridiculous, though.

“I didn’t know you decided to go on dates.” He says it like a second thought.

“I didn’t.”

“You were on a date.”

“Doesn’t mean I decided to go on dates.”

“Means exactly that.”

“Jesus, Minho. Can you ever drop something?”

“Not when it’s about you.”

This asshole. How can you find his otherwise annoying answers amusing?

“My friend insisted so much that she wore me down, so I accepted this date with her colleague. So, as I said, I haven’t decided to go on dates.”

“Good.”

“You can never be normal, uh? Always with a weird answer.”

“You like weird.”

“I do.”

“You’re normal. I like normal.”

He likes normal, and he likes you. And he tells you so in a Minho way at least another ten times in the following minutes, during your way home.

You say goodbye and you’re about to get out of the car, when he puts his hand on your arm, an hesitant expression on his face. “No more other guys, right?”

You smile softly at him. “No more other guys. There hasn’t really been another guy since I met you.”

His smile is all you need.

[sassatoru]

Hi!! I don’t know if your 2k event is still open but could I get daisies with lace? Anything with Erik please I am craving more Erik content maybe something with dofp Erik cause he comes off as very cocky in that movie and I love a man who knows he could make me fold <3

EGOIST

pairing. erik lehnsherr x fem!reader

a/n. this was supposed to be short but yeah

warnings. SMUT

“go fuck yourself, erik.” you scoffed, moving past him. you don’t far because he’s pulling you back into him.

“i have you for that,” he replies, gripping your jaw, forcing you to look at him. cold eyes meeting yours, he seems so dull at times, you can’t tell a single thought behind those eyes, but that’s his intention, isn’t it?

you try to shove him back but he’s having none of it, only pulling you closer. “don’t fight me, you know you won’t win.”

you hated that he was so sure of himself, that he’d win against you. truthfully you hated feeling weak, inferior to him. you weren’t a weak mutant, your mutation was relatively powerful.

but erik was so much more controlled, he knew his limits, he knows he has no limits.

his eyes trace down your body, he’d shown up in the middle of the night. surprisingly charles didn’t know he was here, but then again charles was just getting back on his feet — metaphorically of course.

“why’re you here?”

“i’ve come to take you home.” he sounds so sure of himself, like he knows you’ll follow him even though last time you didn’t. but things were different now, no?

“home?” you laugh bitterly, restraining yourself from slapping him across the face. “this is my home.”

“with charles?” his smirk drops, eyes narrowing at you.

“charles didn’t abandon me to go on some murder spree, did he?” you snap back at him, and he flinches, his facade crumbling.

“i didn’t abandon you.” he hisses, gripping your chin harder. “you had a choice, me or charles.”

“and i’ll choose charles again.” it hurt more than you liked, to say that to him, his grip falters but he doesn’t pull away. he knows you’re only trying to scare him off.

“besides, you had a choice too. yourself or us, no surprise what you chose.” you mutter, you see a flicker of guilt in his eyes.

“i never meant to hurt you, never you.”

“but you did.”

“i did.”

you don’t know what changed but he kisses you. trying to convey a message he can’t speak an i love you without words. you seem to get because you kiss him back with the same intensity.

then you’re in your bedroom again, charles fast asleep down the hall. erik seems to like the thought of his old friend knowing you’re his again.

“i missed you, us.” he murmurs into your ear, pulling your clothes off and kissing down your throat, tongue darting out every few seconds to lick your skin.

“say it back. tell me you missed me,” he demands.

you’re naked, you realise, and he’s staring down at you like a starved man seeing food for the first time in years.

“i missed you too, erik.” you whisper and he melts, the arrogance fading away, fingers gripping your thighs tightly.

“i don’t want to wait,” he mumbles, shedding his clothes too.

“you’re mine, aren’t you?”

you’re not sure how to respond and his hand is around your throat, “say yes.”

“yes.”

he grins, that toothy grin he gives when he gets what he wants. “good girl.”

erik is a taker, less a giver. but he decides to give tonight, its been ten years after all. he can spare a little nicety for your sake.

he doesn’t prep you though, he’s waited long enough. he’ll make you cum instead, tell you about the house he has too, later. the sweet stuff can wait. he needs you right now.

erik fucks you like a man starved. eyeing you in ways that make you fluster and try to hide, though there’s nowhere to go when you’re stuck beneath him. he seems to like you there, angling his hips to fill you all the way.

he groans into your ear, asking — begging — for praise. for you to tell him how good he is, how good he makes you feel. that only he can make you feel this way.

and you go along with it, feeding his enormous ego more and more, for each syllable that leaves your lips he fucks you harder. he likes the feeling of superiority, a flaw that bleeds into the bedroom too.

you cum, again and again. until it’s enough for him. he needs to know that he’s still good enough for you, what better way than reminding you that he can fuck you like no other man ever will?

then, finally he cums too. releasing with a subtle moan into your ear, his hips stutter against yours. eyes falling shut as he collapses on top of you.

you’d have thought he were dead with the way he lay so still, the only indication he was still with you was the feel of his breath, the rise and fall of his chest and the subtle twitch of his fingers.

you lay there, under him. you let him breath, you feel him relax until moments later he’s at it again. his fingers on your clit.

“give me one more.” he mutters, nipping your earlobe and you gasp. pinned down under the weight of his body, unable to do anything but lay there and take it, take what he gives you.

“erik,” you whisper, gripping the tuffs of his hair tightly, you try to rock your hips but he’s heavier, his softened cock still inside of you. though its not nearly as soft as it was moments ago.

“you’ll give me another.” he says, doesn’t questions because he knows you will. “tell me i make you feel good.”

“you do,” you comply, he needs this, you think. needs you to need him. your head rolls back into the pillows, nails scratching down his back at the overstimulation. he groans into your ear when you tighten around him.

“always make me feel so good, erik.”

“tell me you love me.”

you hesitate, he waits.

“i love you,” and you do. you love him despite wanting to kill him ninety percent of the time these days.

“i wonder how you ever survived without me.” he mutters, his thumb rubbing your bud faster, until you’re gasping for air, eyes screwed shut.

“aww,” he coos, mockingly, you note.

you pay him no mind, focused on reaching your end. “erik,” you whisper.

“i know, cum for me, hase.”

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[yurilover000]

pt. 3 to my angsty loser!ellie thingy 𝜗𝜚

pt.1 pt.2

nsfw! ellie cries lol, it’s kinda sweet? giggly sex at first, boobie sucking, ellie is kind of a weirdo idk… she makes out with your pussy, oral(e!receiving), fingering (e!recieving), squirt alert!, ellie cums way too fast, tribbing, desperate ellie like damn shes genuinely tweakinf. this is lowkey so nasty idk wut came over me

this is kinda long im sorry… AND NOT PROOFREAD im too lazy for allat. forgive me for any typos i will not be fixing!😊

daily click don’t buy tlou palestine mp

she had no fucking clue what to do. maybe she could pull her pants up and push herself through the tiny ass window above your shower? leave and block your number, move towns, and change her name. maybe that would work.

she shamefully pulled her sweatpants up and wiped her wet fingers on the fabric, then hid her face in her hands. what the fuck was she gonna do now? she was so sick, so perverted. all ellie could do was imagine you in your room right now, feeling so betrayed by your closest friend for being so perverted in the safety of your own home.

ellie was secretly praying to die right in this moment. she’d die happily, if zeus decided to strike her down with a lightning bolt and disintegrate her, right on your tiled floor. why was she like this? she loved you so much, she couldn’t help shoving her hand in her pants at the sight of you. but in a sick way, it wasn’t from lust.

it was from love.

ellie told herself she had some sick masturbation problem, and she probably needed to be put on some medication for being fucking insane. she just couldn’t help it. your kindness made her heart swell so much that it made her horny, in the weirdest way.

ellie had gotten horny from other things before, sure. but that’s all it was. lust. you, you made her horny in the same way that you made her tummy get butterflies. she just wanted to love on you. she had so much love and affection to give, the only way to release it was through taking care of herself, shamefully.

which is what led her to be in the predicament she’s in right now. she swore she’d never masturbate again, after this.

after maybe 10 minutes of sitting in silence, she decided to leave the bathroom. no use in staying there forever.

the walk down the hall to your room felt so suspenseful and wya too fucking long. maybe it’s because her steps got slower the closer she got.

she had already composed what she was going to say to you. “I don’t know what you saw, but it’s not what it looks like.” and go from there. But the second she entered through the door and saw you sitting on your bed, looking up at her with the most intense look in your eyes, all that went out the window.

“i am so sorry.”

she mumbled, her throat having this large, suffocating lump in it from the urge to cry. before you could say anything back, she spoke again.

“i’m so fucking sorry, i don’t know what i was thinking. i— im so fucked up i know, you didn’t deserve that—“

she continues on, her hands gripping so tightly on the bottom of her hoodie, to the point her knuckles turn white. she doesn’t even realize the tears that spill down her face, not until the look on your face changes. your eyebrows raise, and you look almost like you’re pitying her.

“els… stop that. it’s okay. you’re fine.”

you say, standing up and getting right in front of her. you almost wanted to say sorry for intruding on her, but honestly— what the hell was she doing that for in the first place? you didn’t pry, only wanting to calm her down.

“i thought we could laugh it off. yknow.. like something we could look back on and smile about. no need to cry.”

you say softly to her, using that gentle voice you had whenever you wanted to be sincere. you even go as far as to wipe some of the wetness off her cheek with your thumb.

you were so good to her. she should be relieved to hear your response, but she’s not. it only makes her more frustrated.

“i can’t.”

she looks down at the floor, unable to look you in the eye.

“can’t? can’t what?”

you’re confused, why can’t she just move on from it? you really wanted to bury this memory and stay the way you were.

“i can’t move on.”

she blurts out, a few stray tears still rolling down her cheeks. you just stare at her for a moment, and then it clicks.

“oh.”

you knew exactly what she meant by that. the poor girl, she had her feelings for you all pent up inside of her for god knows how long. you felt terrible, for making her feel even worse about this whole thing. but at the same time, you felt unreasonably giddy.

the fact that ellie, your very bestest friend, had such a big crush on you that it brought her to tears? how flattering is that? you always had a little thing for her, but you brushed yours up as some silly friend crush.

but her tiny confession made your heart pound like nobody has done before.

you grab her hands and lead her to your bed, sitting her down in front of you. you were gonna set this right.

“ellie, why didn’t you tell me?”

she looks at you as if you were dumb. why in the hell would she ever admit her undying love for her best friend?

“because you’re… i don’t fucking know! you’re my best friend nd’ i didn’t wanna mess things up— n’ you have those stupid fuck buddies of yours and—“

oh, the fuck buddies. you now realize why ellie was so quick to leave your home that day she showed up unannounced. the poor baby probably had her feelings so hurt.

“you know, there’s a reason i never actually end up dating them, ellie. that’s all they were to me. they didn’t really make me… feel.”

you say, wiping the tears off her cheeks with one thumb. the way she looked at you made your heart melt.

“..huh? feel what?”

she raises an eyebrow, completely missing what you’re saying. you laugh, covering your eyes for a moment. you forgot you’re talking to ellie. you kinda have to spell it out for her.

“dude. i’m saying that you make me feel.”

she stares at you blankly. she really is doesn’t wanna assume, too afraid of embarrassing herself. you sigh.

“fuck, ellie. i like you too.”

you’ve never seen the girls eyes get so wide. is this even fucking real? ellie couldn’t believe her reddened ears. she doesn’t even have the capacity to feel embarrassed anymore. all she feels is absolute, genuine shock.

“are… are you sure?”

she asks quietly, sniffling a bit. the girl’s nose was still running from her humiliating breakdown in front of you. you almost get pissed at her stupid question.

“yes? the hell?”

you narrow your eyes at her, giving her shoulder as slight shove. she grunts and shoves you back, playfully.

“i was just making sure! i can’t tell if you’re fucking with me.”

“why would i be fucking with you? i’m not evil, ellie.”

she just shrugs, and lets out a slight giggle. she smiles a bit, wiping her damp, sticky face. god, how you loved her smile. it was the sweetest thing ever. both of you giggled for a minute, laughing at the absurdity of this whole thing.

after a few seconds of comforting laughter and smiles between the two of you, you realize ellie isn’t gonna make a move. of course she isn’t, even after that confession. ellie would never make the first move, no way in hell. so, you lean in and give her a quick peck on the lips, less than a second long. it caught her completely off guard.

her eyes widened so much, and her eyebrows raised so far up. you literally saw her cheeks redden, like you two were in a movie. she couldn’t stop herself from beaming at you. a large, toothy grin right that made her cheeks hurt. she didn’t even say anything, just grabbing the sides of your face and bringing you in for a kiss again.

she kisses so hard. her lips push against yours, you could feel her smiling against your mouth. she pulls apart for a second, just looking at you. then, she moves right back in.

the kiss is softer this time, more passionate. in ellie’s mind, she was gonna do this right. she’s gone over in her head thousands of times what she would do if she got to kiss you, to make love with you. she couldn’t mess this up.

you two make out for a bit, the smacking noises from the kissing makes your head feel fuzzy. you’re still pretty wet, from the kissing and the sight you saw earlier. after you pull away from her lips for some air, you give her this look. you want more.

“is.. is this okay?”

ellie asks, slowly kissing your neck and stopping just to look at your reaction. you smile and nod, finding her mannerisms to be too fucking cute. she was so eager.

ellie was in heaven. your skin tasted so good, and you smelled like you. her favorite scent. she peppered kisses over every square inch of your neck and shoulders, her hands resting on your hips. she didn’t dare move your top though, too scared to initiate it.

you slowly moved her shaky, clammy hands to the bottom of your little top, letting her grab it and guiding her hands upwards. you whispered to her in a reassuring tone.

“els, it’s okay.”

she just looks at you, pupils blown and nods. she slowly pulled your top off and over your head, letting your tits spill out right in front of her. of course she noticed you weren’t wearing a bra the second she came over, but it still took her breath away.

“holy fuck.”

she muttered, staring right at your tits. they’re better than she imagined. and she imagined them to be the most perfect tits ever. she couldn’t help herself, poor baby. she just had to lean in and take one of your nipples into her mouth. her left hand flew to your other breast, kneading the soft flesh.

the quick action made you gasp lightly, letting out a tiny whine at the feeling of her teeth nipping at your skin. she was tasting you. you felt her warm face press against your skin, as if she was trying to suffocate herself. you got a bit worried, so you tapped her cheek.

“e-els, you gotta breathe—“

you were cut off by her lips popping off your breast, a string of saliva connecting your nipple to her lips. she murmured a quiet “fuck me,” and immediately went to your other nipple, repeating the same motion.

your eyes almost roll to the back of your head. how the fuck was she so good with her tongue? the way she eagerly licked over your nipples until they hardened in her mouth, nipping at them softly. literally eating your fucking tits right in front of you.

“you’re so fucking beautiful. so so beautiful.”

ellie mumbles to you, forcing herself to get off your boobs. she could spend the rest of her life right there, but there was more to tend to. her hands went to the hem of your shorts, looking at you for permission.

as much as you wanted to say yes and let her do whatever the hell she wanted, you wanted to see her even more. you tug lightly on her hoodie, giving her a gentle smile.

“take this off first?”

say less. say fucking less, is all ellie thought. she stuttered out a quiet “okay, okay,” and nodded, messily pulling her hoodie off of her. you giggled as it got stuck on her head, and it made her giggle along with you. neither of you could stop laughing at any little thing the other one did.

you sighed at the sight of her in her sports bra and sweats, but you wanted that shit off too. ellie wasted no time either, immediately pulling off her sports bra. you didn’t even get to admire her beautiful tits before you saw her pulling her sweats off and kicking them to the side, leaving her in her spongebob boxers. they had spongebob printed all over them.

“interesting fashion choice,”

you said through a laugh, and ellie just smiled awkwardly. she would’ve chosen a different pair if she knew she was gonna do this. fuck her stupid past self for buying that pack of spongebob-themed boxers at spencer’s a few months ago.

“god, don’t look.”

she muttered, moving closer and kissing you again. you kissed back softly, still giggling a bit. nobody made you laugh as effortlessly as she did. her thumbs hooked around the soft fabric of your shorts and panties, pulling them down in one go.

all the words ellie wanted to say died in her mouth. she laid down between your thighs and was face to face with your pussy. your pussy. she thought she was going to faint, she swore she felt her vision going.

gorgeous, that’s the only word to describe you. you were absolutely soaked, your slick making your puffy pussy lips shine and look tantalizingly supple. your swollen clit, and those gorgeous folds. somebody pinch her.

the scent of your arousal filled her nostrils, and she moaned. a deep, guttural moan from the pit of her stomach, just by smelling you. your cheeks were so warm, as you lifted your head to peek down at her. you were gonna say something, but your throat closed on you the second her lips touched your cunt.

this, this was new. ellie had her nose and mouth shoved deep into your cunt, your wetness and warmth englufing her. you expected to feel her tongue push out her lips and onto you, but no. the first thing you felt was her inhaling. her nose sniffed your pussy so deeply, you fucking heard it. you looked down, confused, seeing a half-lidded ellie groan as she inhaled your scent. you didn’t say anything, literally just watching. nobody’s ever gotten off to your scent before, like ever. but shit, it turned you on way too much.

she mumbled something incomprehensible against your pussy, then slowly, languidly, started lapping at your cunt. her tongue pushing through your dripping folds and collecting every single drop of slick you had, and fucking swallowing it. swallowing after every couple of licks. you moaned, because what the actual fuck.

how did she make this so fucking hot?

it felt so good, but it wasn’t enough to make you cum. it was too slow. your hips greedily moved and pushed against her lips, but she didn’t increase her pace one bit. she was clearly doing this for her own pleasure. too pussydrunk to care. her eyelids were so low, but you saw her staring at you the entire time she ate you out. like clockwork, her tongue dipping into your hole, drinking you up like you were liquid gold.

after hearing enough of your desperate whines for more, she slowly moved herself up, the lower half of her face was completely drenched. she kissed the soft mound of your cunt, then up your tummy, through the valley of your breasts, and finally slowly kissed your lips again. tasting yourself on her tongue made you feel brain dead.

“eat my pussy, please…”

she murmured against your lips, giving you the tiniest peck on your mouth after she spoke. since when did she get so bold? it made you embarrassingly wet.

who were you to say no to her?

you simply nodded, and gently pushed her to the side so she could lay down on her back. you immediately got between her legs, as she planted her feet on the mattress. shit, she was so eager.

she lifted her butt and chuckled quietly as you pulled off her silly boxers. once they’re off, you’re met with the most beautiful sight. her auburn bush, decorating her cunt so delicately. it made your mouth pool with saliva. her pretty, red and needy clit poking out, just begging to be touched. she was so wet. you don’t think you’ve ever seen a cunt dripping this much before. she was already clenching in and out softly, drops of arousal leaking out of her and forming a tiny droplet on your bedsheets. you could’ve came from the sight.

“how long have you been wanting this?”

you ask her quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to her clit. her hips bucked into your face, and you smiled.

“ssss—so fucking long. needed you from the start… fucked myself to you s’much…”

she just kept spilling her guts to you, just trying to get you to put your fucking mouth on her cunt. your fidgety, nervous ellie that you knew turned into a completely shameless slut for you.

“yeah? you could’ve told be earlier, els.”

you tease her lightly, and she just whines desperately. you decide not to deprive her any longer, and lick a long stripe up her soaked pussy. she groans, hands flying to your hair and gripping it. your tongue licked over her clit, making her hips jolt upwards and further into your face. you had her a mess, babbling anything through grunts.

“mmh, so good…”

“jjjust like that, fuck me…”

“i-i love you. love you s’fuckin much,”

you kept sucking on her clit, letting her hips grind against your lips to her hearts desire. your left hand went to hold hers, your fingers being gripped so tightly that you felt your knuckles pop.

your right hand went straight to her pussy, unlatching your mouth from her clit so you can gather some wetness on your fingers. she groaned, and you slowly pushed in your middle and ring finger once they were slick enough. your lips went right back to her clit, sucking and licking on it again.

you got a good two pumps into her cunt before you felt them being squeezed tightly, and her voice suddenly turning high pitched and whiny.

“oh fuck!!— m’cuh.. cumminggg…”

she said quite loudly, and before you could even register what she was saying, you felt a large spurt of liquid splash onto your face. you slowly kept pumping your fingers, taking your mouth away as she literally drenched your entire face with her very theatrical squirt.

she squirted on you after only a minute.

you blinked, slowly pulling your fingers out of her and letting her catch her breath. once she regained most of her sanity from that, the humiliation set in.

she wasn’t supposed to cum that fast.

“oh shit, i’m sorry. i didn’t think… fuck.”

she said a breathlessly, looking down at your drenched face. she was so embarrassed, cumming pathetically fast. she wasn’t even properly fingered and she already made a mess all over you and your poor bed. but honestly, you didn’t care.

“ellie. that was probably the hottest thing you could’ve done.”

you smile at her, sitting up and wiping your face a bit, licking the residue off your hand. you give her a soft kiss on the lips, getting ready to settle next to her. but ellie has a different plan in mind.

“wait, i wanna make you cum.”

she’s shy with her words, as if she wasn’t slutting herself out for you less than a minute ago. she sits up, not letting you turn down her offer. she wants to make you feel good so bad. so, you let her do her thing.

but when she situates herself between your legs once more, lifting your right leg over her shoulder and kissing your calf lightly, you speak up.”

“oh, els. you’re not too overstimulated for that?”

you protest lightly, not wanting her to push herself. she shakes her head, not wanting to back down from this. this is what she’s wanted for so long. to make love to you, in the most intimate way possible.

“let me do this for you, please.”

her voice is soft and desperate, practically begging you. how could you turn down that offer. you smile warmly at her, and she takes it as your green light. she whispers a tiny “i love you” before lowering her sopping cunt and slotting it right against yours.

euphoric. mind fucking blowing. both you and ellie gasped at the sensation. your sticky, warm pussies pushed up against each other felt so good. you let out a slightly strained moan, and ellie slowly started to move her hips in a rhythm against yours. poor baby couldn’t even focus on her overstimulated clit— she was desperate to make you cum. and it felt way too good.

“oh, right there.. so good ellie.”

you let out a string of praises to her, and she just kept moving. the sloshing noises of your cunts mashed together was mind numbing. ellie definitely wanted to cry.

the way you two made love was so intimate. she felt so connected to you, no words could describe it. she started at your face with a fucked out expression, continuing the movement of her hips.

“gon…gonna cum, els…”

you warn her, and she keeps going. her hand grips onto your leg so tightly, fucking her cunt onto yours so deliciously.

“i know baby, i know. m’close too. gonna cum with you, okay?”

she rambles, voice unstable and shaky as you both reach your breaking point. you nod and keep whining broken parts of her name, your nails digging into her forearm.

with one last thrust, you two cum basically at the same time, your cunts leaking onto each other. she keeps moving her hips slowly until the overstimulation sets in, which forces her to pull away from you, her weak body plopping right down next to yours.

both of you lay in silence for a few moments, just enjoying your post-orgasm bliss. ellie’s hand snakes back over to yours, and your fingers immediately intertwine the second they touch. she looked at you with all the love in the world. and of course, you did the same right back at her.

she was still your best friend though, so you had to push her around just a bit.

“so, you wanna tell me why you own spongebob boxers?”

ellie smiles and shoves you lightly. yeah, she was so in love with you.

Ok baiii i hope u guys liked it! :3 i can’t tell if im satisfied with it but i tried… sending love xoxo

taglist: @lil-elliesgf @a-little-bit-of-everybody 🩷

[simonbrain]

hi sorry i was the one who asked about piss but YAY SAFESPACE!!

ugh like.. just imagining that it isn’t even you peeing that is most erotic (it is erotic but not what strokes their ego most) it’s more so the power play between you and whoever keeps your panties hugged right up against your clit. rubbing the little button till you eventually fall apart, but it isn’t arousal that slicks your lips. and your partner, usually so sweet is now the complete opposite, scolding you for wetting yourself as if it wasn’t his doing. you’ve made a mess of yourself and him, so why don’t you get on your knees and clean him up.

sorry for the long thing but this has been plaguing my mind for a while

cw: piss kink 🔥🔥🔥, dubcon

writing this with simon in mind but—

thinking about how selfless he is when it comes to your pleasure, how giving he can be, because in his mind nothing can compare to unravelling you until you're too boneless to even string together a sentence. he thought he had already seen you at your highest peak: the teary eyes, the drool that trickled from your open mouth, the incoherent babbles. he had even managed to make you squirt once—the excessive warmth around his cock felt rewarding, had him fucking into you harder just to see if he could get your sweet cunt gushing around him again.

you're squirming more than usual, unable to listen to his gentle commands to keep still. the position is a little odd with you lying on the bed while he sits upright between your legs, but you can't even begin to care about how dizzy you're getting without proper head support when he's stroking your puffy clit so well, soft pants leaving your lips with each taut circle you receive. your approaching orgasm feels so much more intense than usual, and you slur out that you're close, so so close, pleasepleaseplease—

the first spurts that trickle down to your ass makes you freeze because the feeling is wrong. it's not the beginning of an orgasm but rather the relief that comes from emptying your full bladder, and you immediately go to grasp his wrist, but the bastard shakes you off and slips his hand down your panties.

"simon," you gasp, mortified by how he's still going even as a small stream begins to seep through your underwear and down onto his sweatpants. the second it started, your control went out the window, and it doesn't help that with each thrash you make, the pressure against your clit grows firmer, more purposeful. it feels good, relief and shame flooding you. "simon, stop—"

"look at you, pissin' all over yourself like an untrained pup," he tuts, shaking his head to really emphasise his disappointment, as if he's not about to burst in his damn sweats just from watching you struggle. "fuckin' filthy."

it's not difficult for him to push you to the brink of tears, to see those pretty eyes leak while your cunt shares the same sentiment. he should feel bad about the way you're snivelling out apologies, feel guilty for pushing you so far out of your comfort zone, but there's an awful little itch in his brain that's being soothed by your indignity.

when you attempt to squirm away, the harsh smack that lands dead centre of your cunt makes you cry out. as a result, everything beneath you gets drenched, and simon thinks he likes this a lot—being selfish. it's not a sin to indulge in his own greedy desires, is it? to push down on your bladder and coo if you have any more for him, and throb in his soaked pants when you give him a few more pathetic spurts before you're finally empty.

no, it can't be. especially not when he's so kind all the time, when he places you and your pleasure above everything else. doesn't that feel good, letting go for him? even if you shake your head no, he knows the relief that's flowing through you. the soft moans leaving your lips and the little jerks of your hips give you away.

looking down at the mess honestly almost finishes him off because fuckkkk, he should've had you sitting on his face instead, should've made you ride his tongue until you couldn't hold it in anymore. the thought has heat flaring up all over his body once more, the desire to taste you rolling over him like great, clashing waves. "look at this mess, baby, you fuckin' soaked me; think we need to look into buyin' some plastic for the mattress, aye?"

the look on your face has his heart melting and his dick twitching, embarrassment painting your cheeks red. "it's not my fault!" you whine, trying to shove him away like an angry cat, yet all simon can think about is how fucking cute you are like this, hissing and snivelling like you weren't just humping his hand. (you were trying to get away from him, but it's not like you were given much of a chance to. what an asshole.)

"well, i'm still a mess," he huffs, gesturing to his lap. "won't you clean me up, pet? s'the least you could do."

yeah, he thinks as you reluctantly position yourself between his legs and pry his sweats down to lap at his cock, your grumpy expression having absolutely no effect on him other than making him want to pinch your cheeks. he's definitely indulging in this little kink with you more often. hopefully you won't notice if he begins reminding you to drink water more frequently than usual.

[inhunenthusiast]

After recovering (barely) from this scene, I think it’s time I talk about it too.

Now, first of all, can we all agree that this is like THE most toxic yaoi coded scene ever? I don’t even know where to start…

Gihun being in absolute despair (it’s so horrible to see him like this, even though we all knew this was coming…) and begging to be killed, while Inho is eagerly watching him, gulping down his whiskey in one go while he looks absolutely emotionally wrecked.

It’s the fact for me, that Inho didn’t even bother to freshen him up or clean the blood off his hands, he just stayed in the exact same state where he left off in the rebellion.

Now, if we think back to the last scene between Gihun and Inho, where Inho was so obviously hesitant when Gihun offered him his last ammo, we can only imagine in what an emotional turmoil he must be right now. Killing Jungbae was definitely something (also stated by LBH now) that Inho will 100% regret, because he knows exactly he took Gihun’s last closest friend and his last connection to the person who he was before with it.

Inho is in a deep state of denial at the moment, trying to put on a poker face and not letting himself feel. What’s so funny to me is that he’s trying to trick no one but himself in this moment, as he’s completely unwatched and alone. Drowning his second thoughts and feelings with some luxury alcohol. Not even enjoying and savoring his whiskey like he always did before.

Inho expected to feel victory from this, to finally feel satisfaction from seeing Gihun break. Knowing that he doesn’t, feeling that he doesn’t, makes Inho frustrated, he doesn’t understand or wants to acknowledge it. He already is so deeply attached to Gihun and is keeping him alive because he’s far beyond the point where he would still be able to kill him. He so badly wanted Gihun to proof HIM wrong. Seeing Gihun like this, the slimmer of hope he had again because of Gihun’s determination to end the games had vanished just within.

All he feels now is numbness and eternal loneliness.

Let’s not forget, that right before he had people around him that treated him with kindness, that saw an ally in him and trusted him. Especially Gihun, who he bonded and grew closest with the most. Now Inho has gone back to his Frontman position, sitting back in his shithole after 3 whole days in which he could finally feel human again.

This is just so fucking depressing and is breaking my inhun heart entirely.

But it also makes me more convinced with this pairing than ever, because this brings their dynamic and Inho’s feelings for Gihun to a whole new level and turning point.

This is just the beginning of the season, so the things that will unravel in the process, will be even more intense.

[jaehyunmirae]

fuck around and find out | l.hc

you brought up the topic to your best friend, haechan, so flippantly that he wanted to know if you were really serious.

because if you were, he wanted to know if you want to try it now.

"you're a fucking liar."

haechan threw his pillow at you from across the bed, laughing awkwardly. he only laughs like that when he's nervous.

"is that a challenge?" a glint of mischief flashed across your eyes.

you started crawling towards haechan, then took his phone out of his hand and placed it on the nightstand. positioning your knees in between his, you gently placed your hands on his thighs.

it was obvious you were slowly testing the waters, afraid to ask why he hasn't stopped you yet.

sure, you've thought about what it would be like to hear those pretty moans and string of curses out of his perfect pink lips. those were harmless fantasies, buried deep inside your dreams. but right now, your actions moved faster than your mind did, and the excitement only tells you to keep going.

there's no coming back from what you're suggesting. not when you can feel his hand creeping up your inner thigh, his thumb swiping dangerously closer and closer-

"don't start something you're gonna regret," he stops his hand from moving further up.

you lowered your torso, the heat of your core made contact with his thigh, "shut up- you're just scared you're gonna lose the bet."

"this is a bet?"

"i'm telling you. i'm gonna win-"

"-my god, you're so confident- it's almost absurd."

haechan adjusts his position to pull you closer to him, his hands firmly placed on your waist. he takes his finger and places it under your chin to lift your face.

"it doesn't hurt to try," you looked straight ahead, falling deeper into his darkened gaze.

"you can't make me cum just by grinding," he shook his head, laughing.

this time you knew it was genuine. a part of you took an offense for his disbelief, but you were far too competitive to pass up the opportunity. a few more buttons to push and you've got him.

haechan lets go of you and ran his hand over his hair. he's a few weeks overdue for his usual haircut but frankly, you like it a little long like this. the other night you dreamt of grabbing a fistful while he's eating you out, giving you that extra edge—only possible when he kept his hair long.

"give me a chance, babe."

without warning, you took your hands off haechan's legs and dragged them up his back. your fingers interlocked around the back of his neck, keeping your smile sickeningly sweet as you sensed his breathing quicken.

"no penetration?" he pouted.

"no," you kissed his neck, barely whispering as your lips met that sensitive spot under his ear, "but if you're a good boy for me, you can put it in later."

"-fucking tease."

"you started it."

haechan responds to your kisses by groping your ass, each squeeze increases in intensity. his fingers inched closer to your clothed pussy, gradually getting wetter every second. unsure if he was holding himself back or enjoying the slow pace, you grew frustrated.

you were supposed to rile him up, not the other way around.

haechan can hear the desperation in your voice. the moans you were holding back, the soft little sighs barely escaping your lips that immediately rushed to his cock. he knows the game you're playing and soon you'll realize, you picked the wrong one to mess with.

you never intended to let out an embarrassing yelp when he lifted you up from riding his thigh onto his dick. without giving you a chance to react from the sudden contact, haechan sneaks his hand under your shirt, overhwhelming you skin to skin.

"shit-" you groaned, grinding on his cock mindlessly.

each movement your body made automatically followed one after the other, paying no attention to your initial goal. it's amazing how his hips blurred every thought in your brain into oblivion.

you can feel his smirk against your skin, he's kissing you in the same places you were teasing him earlier. if he felt this good without even entering your aching hole, you don't even want to start thinking about how good his cock would feel pumping in and out of you.

"you're still down to find out?" you asked, a little out of breath.

"i can't believe it," haechan chuckled.

he's absolutely amused at how you still found the time to be so cheeky while you were rocking back and forth on his cock, succumbing into a writhing mess, falling apart.

"come on, uh-"

when he picked up his speed, you knew you were fucked.

"all this fucking time- suppressing how much you wanted me, you little slut. let's see who's gonna cum first."

[pedriosofia]

CAR, HECTOR FORT. ﹙001﹚

➤ Summary: You have a fight because of his jealousy, so he gets stressed out with you in the car.

➤ Warning: SMUT +18, Unprotected sex, start angust, Cute ending, violent sex. Toxic.

➤ Author's note: Translated into English, meaning there may be spelling errors.

Hector didn’t like the feeling. A warm knot in his stomach, like something was out of place. The party was still going on in the background, with colorful lights flashing in the garden of one of his teammates’ houses, but to him it all seemed like a blur. His eyes were fixed on her—and the guy she was laughing with.

He was one of her friends from college. Handsome, confident, cool. His hand would brush her arm a little too much whenever he laughed at a joke. Hector knew the look of an interested guy—because he’d looked the same way. But what really irritated him was that she didn’t seem to make an effort to pull away.

She was wearing that tight black dress he loved. She knew the effect she had on him. And now, in this moment, she seemed to be throwing it in his face. Like she was teasing him.

When she pulled away from her friend and turned, she found Hector leaning against the wall, arms crossed, jaw clenched. His gaze was dark, hard.

“What is it?” she asked, frowning.

“You’re having fun, aren’t you?”

"Like this?"

“With him. Laughing at his jokes, pretending not to notice the way he looks at you.”

She snorted.

“Hector, he’s my friend. That’s all.”

“Fucking friend,” he snapped, pushing himself off the wall and walking toward her, his body tense. “He wants to fuck you, and you know it. He’s loving the attention.”

She crossed her arms.

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Then stop acting like you’re single.”

The silence between them grew heavy. She stared at him defiantly. He stepped closer, the tension between them almost palpable.

“We’re going to talk,” he said firmly. “Now.”

He grabbed the car keys and pulled her by the hand, not giving her any room for argument. She went, out of pride and anger, but also because she wanted to understand how far he would go with this.

The silence was thick inside the car, broken only by the sound of the engine. Hector drove fast, his jaw still tense, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. She stared out the window, but she could feel his gaze burning into the side of her face from time to time.

When he stopped on a more deserted street, far from the house, he turned off the car with a sharp click. He turned to her.

“You like to tease me, don’t you?”

She turned her face slowly, her eyes burning.

“I don’t have to walk on eggshells because you’re insecure, Hector.”

He laughed humorlessly.

“Insecure? Do you think that’s it?”

“I think so. Because I didn’t do anything wrong. I just talked to a friend. If you see that as a threat, that’s not my problem.”

He licked his lips, staring at her with that intensity that always came before he lost control.

“Do you want to see how far I’ll go?”

She didn't answer. She just challenged him with her gaze. And that was enough.

Hector leaned over the console and kissed her hard, his hand going straight to her thigh, pulling up her dress. The kiss was hot, angry, full of everything he couldn't say. She responded with the same intensity, digging her nails into his arm, pulling at the hair on the back of his neck.

“Is this what you want?” he whispered between kisses, his lips trailing down her jaw, biting the skin down to her neck. “To drive me crazy? To remind me that you’re mine?”

She gasped when she felt his hand between her legs, firm, determined. His touch was urgent, possessive. He knew exactly how to tease. And now, he made sure to make it clear who was in charge here.

She squirmed in the passenger seat, trying to maintain control, but his fingers were already sliding firmly up the inside of her thigh, pushing their way in with authority. The car was dark, stuffy, the windows beginning to fog up with the difference in temperature between the inside and the world outside.

Hector pulled the back of her seat hard, reclining it all the way back, making her body slide a little. He straddled her with one knee on the seat, his eyes fixed, wild.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered, his voice low and filled with more than just lust. It was control. A warning.

She hesitated, just for the teasing, and saw his eyes grow even darker. He dug his hand into the base of her neck, squeezing lightly.

“I said... open.”

She obeyed. Slowly, defiantly, but she obeyed. And he smiled sideways, satisfied.

“That’s the way I like it.”

While the hand on her neck kept her there, submissive, the other slid between her legs with a precision that set the rest of her body on fire. She moaned softly, trying not to scream, but he leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear.

“Shout to me. The car is ours. The night too.”

She moaned louder, the sound muffled by the heat of the moment, and he bit her jaw lightly as his fingers delved deeper. She trembled, arching against him, and he held on tight, as if he owned her every reaction, her every breath.

“Only I can make you tremble like that. Speak.”

“Only you,” she gasped, her eyes nearly closing with pleasure.

He removed his fingers and licked them slowly, his eyes fixed on hers.

“You will prove it to me.”

In one swift movement, Hector unzipped his pants, pulling the fabric just enough. Gripping her thighs tightly, he positioned himself between them and thrust into her, deep, angry, needy. The bench creaked beneath them, the leather slipping with sweat from their skin, and her moans mixed with the wet, rhythmic sound of his movements.

His hand returned to her neck, squeezing a little tighter now, but not hurting—just enough to show her that she was his. That he could take her to the edge and bring her back.

“No one else is going to touch you. Ever,” he growled, his hips thrusting hard. “You’re mine. Understand?”

She tried to respond, but all she could do was moan, her eyes watering with the intensity. He leaned in closer, pressing his forehead against hers, keeping his grip firm on her neck while his other hand gripped her waist roughly.

“I fucking love you,” he said through gritted teeth. “That’s why I’m like this. Crazy. Possessive. Addicted to you.”

The climax came like a rough wave. She writhed beneath him, gasping, her muscles contracting around him. He lost himself with her, slamming into her hard one last time, hissing a husky groan against her sweaty skin.

They stayed like that for a few seconds. Panting. Silent. The only sound was their hearts beating fast in their chests, still processing what had just happened.

He gently removed his hand from her neck now, and kissed her there, like a silent apology. The anger was gone. All that remained was that intensity that always connected them, even in the worst moments.

“No one will ever love you the way I do,” he murmured, resting his forehead against hers.

She ran her fingers over his face, feeling the stubble, the sweat, the weight of the moment. She knew it was true. And even if she wanted to, she couldn't escape it.

“I’m yours,” she replied, her voice hoarse.

He smiled. A small, satisfied smile, and kissed her slowly this time.

Do not copy or translate. Copyright @pedriosofia on Tumblr!

[thewalrusespublicist]

Paul and Linda Interview from Hellllllll

@slenderfire-blog as the patron saint of good sources sent me this interview and I thought I would write it up as it gives a worrying insight into the famed idyllic marriage and Paul’s mental state at the time.

Reader, it was not idyllic and he was not doing well.

Disclaimer: For context, this interview is in his Broadstreet era aka the grief/midlife crisis/I cant have a meltdown if I’m making a film period. I fully believe that Paul was having an extended emotional crisis/breakdown post John's death/successive unresolved and badly handled traumas. (As I was saying to @slenderfire-blog, let's just say if he feels like crying every damn day about John in 2021, imagine how it was in 1985.) So yeah Paul is having a time and I look forward to McCartney Vol 3. for potential confirmation and illumination on this.

At the same time JESUS FUCK PAUL THIS IS TERRIBLE.

Like so bad, bad to the point I now feel like contemporaneous Peter Cox account is 1000% more credible as this is essentially the PR version of what he said. So let's get into the greatest hits:

The happy, definitely-not-in-trouble couple

They do seem to adore each others company, be locked in with each other and Paul does rely on her a lot for support and approval:

As they talk, Paul constantly squeezes Linda’s arm reassuringly, strokes her hand or looks to her for approval or agreement whenever he makes a point. The two are inclined to talk at once or to finish each other’s sentences. At times, the link is so tight, they seem almost like different aspects of one person.

Though at the same time they both describe the relationship as 'rather volatile' and full of arguments where they go and sulk in different rooms. They lightly play it off but then Linda says a bit too seriously that shes usually the one who gives in first :/.

Paul built the house they live in and are sort of obsessed with cosplaying living the 'peasant' lifestyle with no help save one housekeeper Rose who is from Paul's bachelor days and the occasional babysitter (as far as I'm aware this is true).

The marrying thing in 68 was so intense he even asked lil HEATHER to marry him what the hellllll (of course he wasn't serious but it does feel like another way of indirectly pressuring Linda to commit). He also kept asking Linda until she gave in.

Random swipe in the baby name department at Zowie Bowie, lmao not friends with the Bowies then (good thing Duncan Jones happens to agree).

They romanticise the bickering and volatility as being like passionate young lovers

“My parents were married for 25 years and they were like young lovers,” says Linda. “Paul’s parents were the same. If you’re lucky, you get that in life. You see, those are the kinds of things that matter to me—not the diamond necklace.”

Paul:

Paul is clearly not okay and seems to be regressing by trying to recapture his childhood through his current situation. Throughout the interview Paul keeps going back to his parents marriage and his childhood as the ideal frame of reference. This is pretty standard but Paul takes it to the extreme of this meaning no friends, family only and the wife do all of the labour.

This (save the misogyny) is a far cry from his 60s revolutionary kick but I can see how this happened in the wake of the Beatles split, the trauma and complex grief from John's death and the press. In response and defense to the criticism and hurt, Paul seems to have retreated wholly within himself and his family sphere and is coercing Linda into fulfilling the role of the wife within that. Take for example, his portrayal of the housework and why Linda should like to do it:

“Linda really doesn’t like housework,” Paul explains, “because when she grew up, her family had maids and she wasn’t taught to do anything. But it’s something I’ve tried to tell Linda about because in the kind of family I’m from, housework is considered a pleasure—the smell of ironing and the laundry. Where I’m from, once a week, the women would sort of get the laundry out and smell the washing and feel it and see it and iron it all, and they’d be chatting or listening to the radio. It was like a peasant thing. It was an event, like treading on the grapes.

It's bonkers and infuriating and at first I was like I DONT KNOW PAUL IF YOU WANT THE PLEASURE OF SMELLING DETERGENT SO BAD YOU CAN DO THE BLOODY LAUNDRY. But then you realise how Paul connects it with comfort, especially with comfort after a bereavement:

“Growing up in Liverpool, that was always there for me. Even after my mum died, my aunties came around religiously every week and cooked and cleaned the house and did the laundry and provided that kind of atmosphere for us.”

It's romanticising the poverty he grew up in but also signifies to me how much it's a coping mechanism. He wants Linda to do the laundry and have that idealised maternal domestic atmosphere as in his head if you have that then you can carry on even in the face of cataclysmic loss.

Denny Lane's comments about Linda being like a mother to Paul feel really pertinent here. Reading all this has kind of reinforced to me this idea I've had for a while that Linda's maternal attributes was one of the foundational pillars of Paul's attraction to her and an essential part of their marriage. In another interview I'll post another time, he says they never went on holiday without the kids, with them taking tiny Heather on their honeymoon. It wasn't just tours, the kids really did go everywhere with them when they could and they made sure the children's bedrooms were just next door to theirs so they could be there all the time. It's great, wonderful parenting but also with the genesis of their relationship it's really hard not to see Linda and the promised family as the replacement to fill the hole from the Beatles. Not saying that he didn't go on to adore them and them be the pinnacle joy of his life but yh ... once you see it it's hard not to unsee. (Also the thing I've always been too scared to say/wild speculation again I don't know these people ... but I think they would have always had these problems until Paul actually reckoned with his mothers death/other traumas.)

Thinking about it all as well, it must be so hard to essentially cosplay the culture and background you grew up in with wealth and class separating you from everything you used to intimately know

Aggressive optimist Paul telling a very different story here (is he more honest here, more depressed, or maybe somewhere in the middle?)

“I’ve got all these contingency plans. I tend to look at the worst side of things. I’ll say, ‘If they turn us down, we’re going to do this.’ If anything hurts me, I want to fight it—so it doesn’t hurt me again.”

Nothing to add just ... ouch.

Reinforcement of John refusing to let Paul hold Sean because Paul 'didn't know him' ... which yh that is some bullshit its a baby. Paul goes onto mention how John wasn't great with babies as he had no experience whilst he had and somehow makes it borderline a competition lmao.

HALFWAY THROUGH I REALISED THIS WAS THE INFAMOUS PLAYGIRL 'JOHN SAID JEALOUS GUY WAS ABOUT ME' INTERVIEW. I NEVER REALISED LINDA WAS THERE.

Not him essentially saying 'in hindsight maybe Linda needed a lot of lessons' for Wings and admitting he just wanted her there. They both seem to accept it as something that wasn't fair to expect of Linda with no training.

He does this embarrassed little giggle like 'oh I may be a chauvinist YES YES YOU ARE SORT YOURSELF OUT.

Linda ohh my GOD Linda girl

She has rings around her eyes from exhaustion

Gets up at 7am to do the breakfast every morning despite going to bed late

Said she didn’t want to get married again initially as she had been controlled by men all her life until then

Says her kids are her best friends and that she never had a friend until she moved to Arizona later on (this is interesting to me that both Paul and Linda both saw themselves as 'loners' in childhood even though interviews from people in Paul's childhood repeat that he was popular. Maybe this was a narrative in their marriage or maybe Paul always felt internally lonely).

Qualifier here: I also don't think the best friend thing is true, there are a few people that pop up over the years who say they were very close to Linda and one did a lovely interview with Paul post Linda's death. I think the whole 'family is all you need schtick was part cope and part PR.

From apparent tradition Paul says that he doesen't tell her how much he's worth and their money situation as 'his dad didn't tell his mum' (even though his mum was integral to financially supporting the family may I remind you Paul). Linda girl listen I can make you happy I can give you a good life and treat you to nice things come with me Linda-

Theres one point where Linda PANICS because Paul mentions the supposed socialist uprising potentially taking all their money because HE WON'T TELL HER WHAT THE FINANCIALS LOOK LIKE. THIS FUCKER (also socialists Paul you're a northern liberal get a grip you class traitor)

They both romanticise living frugally with Linda not buying any nice fancy things ... its hard not to remember Peter Cox's account of Linda asking to borrow money when reading this :(((((

Linda's idea of a luxury holiday is not having to cook and clean and she can have fun :( Paul then interjects with 'yh that's great for a bit but not all the time as isn't it nice to have the family all in the kitchen!!' I'm sure Linda would agree if you actually helped Paul.

In summation: he needs help and a slap, she deserves a statue but would probably prefer a sit-down. Thank god there’s a lot to suggest that Paul has improved massively when it comes to his view on women and labour (wouldn’t have married a working businesswoman if they hadn’t) but this is still a difficult window into how things were in the 80s and the life that campaigners like Yoko were fighting against.

[minisugakoobies]

Hello 💛 can i ask story for Hongjoong with 'what if I hurt you?' and 'this is a one time thing'? 💛💛💛 thank you

Anon, I'm so sorry this took forever - I had it written but I didn't have the time to post it - but you're not here for my excuses, you're here for some Hongjoong. I hope you like where the prompts took me! 💕

Pairing: Vampire!Hongjoong x Reader (AFAB) Genre: smut, established relationship, Vampire!AU Rating: M (18+) Warnings: unprotected sex, biting, drinking blood, Hongjoong overindulges a little but reader is okay, aftercare Word Count: 896 words **********

Hongjoong sits beneath you, admiring your kiss-swollen lips. He loves the dark stain that still clings there, a stark contrast against the paleness of his mouth as he pulls you closer to kiss you again. You’ve already left your mark all over his face, but he’s eager for more.

His tongue slides over yours with urgency, and you moan, lips parting to let him explore, digging your fingernails into his shoulders.  You’ve been riding him for a while now, fucking slowly with lazy rolls of your hips, and he’s starting to get twitchy. His thighs flex with suppressed energy, the tension in his legs evident as he holds himself back. 

He does this every time the two of you are like this. It’s impressive, really, his self-control - the way he keeps himself in check at all times, even in his basest state. Even if you wish he’d give in and let go for once. 

You break away from his kiss and lean back. Once Hongjoong’s gaze is locked on yours, you tip your head to the side. Immediately his eyes are drawn to your exposed neck, just as you knew they’d be. 

“Please,” you whisper, “please, Joongie.”

He shuts his eyes and groans. Doesn’t need to ask you what you’re pleading him to do, because this isn’t the first time you’ve had this conversation. “Baby, I’m - mmmmm - I can’t.” 

You rock back and forth, breathing deep through your nose for a few seconds before you speak. “Yes, you can. But more importantly, you want to.”

This is where he tells you again for the nth time that he can’t bite you, can’t drink from you, because he can’t risk losing control. Except tonight, he changes the script. 

“What if I hurt you?” 

“You won’t,” you reply, trying not to get too excited, trying not to leap at the first sign that his resolve might be slipping. “I trust you. Please. I wanna feel what it’s like - with you.” 

Being bitten by a vamp is a euphoric experience, especially if there is a bond between the vampire and its prey (or partner). At least, that’s what you’ve been told. Hongjoong has so far refused to indulge you in finding out.

“Just a taste,” you say, and Hongjoong hums in response, staring at where your pulse pounds beneath the thin skin of your throat.

He runs his fingers lightly over your neck. He’s weakening. His nose nuzzles beneath your jaw as he takes a lungful of your scent. There’s a low rumble, a growl trapped in his chest. You can’t stifle a whine, and that pushes Hongjoong to make up his mind. 

“This is a one time thing,” he intones seriously, and you nod but he stops you with a hand on your cheek. He kisses your neck once, twice, and then there’s a sharp sting and then -

And then there’s nothing but bliss. Every beat of your heart sends his venom surging through your veins until your entire body sings with a hazy pleasure. Hongjoong’s cock throbs inside you as he laps up his first taste, and you cry out, surprised by how quickly you come, and how hard, the intensity blanking out your mind.

Your limbs are too loose and heavy to support. You melt against your lover as he drinks from you and fucks you at the same time. Each stroke of his cock prolongs your ecstasy, and you float along on an infinite wave, barely aware of the life flowing from you. 

Your pussy clenches and clenches and Hongjoong groans loudly.

“Babe - baby,” he sputters, but that’s all he says, distracted by the blood trailing down your collarbones, desperate to lick up every drop. His hands squeeze your thighs while he empties himself deep inside your womb.

You whimper, burning alive, intoxicated by the pain and the pleasure. Hongjoong doesn’t release you, hasn’t gotten his fill, and as he swallows another mouthful, it briefly occurs to you that this could be your last moment on this earth, lost to your boyfriend’s insatiable desires. But just as your lust-addled mind has dimly accepted your fate, Hongjoong lets out an agitated grunt and tears himself away. 

He wipes an arm over his lips. Now they match yours, you think dazedly.

“Baby? Ah, shit.” 

Hongjoong cradles your face, thumbs stroking over your cheeks as he tries to make sure you’re okay. You can feel his gaze on yours, but you can only focus on the crimson smears around his mouth. 

“Are you okay? Say something.” 

You manage a weak, “Something,” and Hongjoong laughs, more out of relief than amusement. He kisses your forehead, then your nose, and your lips, before bowing his head over your neck again. 

When his tongue swipes over your wounds, coating them with healing saliva, your climax finally crests. You sigh, and slump further against him, succumbing to sudden exhaustion. It’s the human body’s normal reaction to the loss of a vampire’s venom - the crash after the high. 

Your eyes refuse to stay open, not even when you feel the wipe of a cold wet towel over your warm skin. When Hongjoong settles into bed next to you, you turn, and nestle up against him, humming as he slips an arm around you. 

“Told you,” you whisper. 

He laughs again, this time full of joy, and kisses your forehead. “Gloat tomorrow. Sleep now.” 

[livelaughlovesubs]

I need more Boothill... Maybe just taking orgasm after orgasm after orgasm... Mommy kink even...?

WAIT HUUUH?? BAE, YOU ARE REQUESTING SMT FROM ME? I’m fucking honoured I could cry also you are a switch? >:0

Anyway, hope this is to your liking <3

Dom!reader x sub!Boothill

Warning: mommy kink (boothill calls reader mommy), handjob, dacryphilia, praise kink, soft dom

His once cold metal arms were wrapped around your neck, holding onto you as tightly as he could. Legs spread as far as he can while he squeezed his eyes shut, unable to handle the overstimulation your touch brought him. “Too.. too much~” The male groaned into your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin. All you did in response was coo at him, whispering gently, “you are doing great, my love.” Each time your hand pumped up and down his sticky length, he could feel his body overheating and going feral. As if all of his systems shortcut, he felt how his limps went weak, at this rate he can barely hold on to you any longer.

Your hand was all dirty with the lube as well, smiling at him as you continued the same movements you’ve been repeating for the last hour. Up, down, up and down… just like that, a steady rhythm that made his mind go blank. You adored this man with all your heart, the only thing you want for him is eternal happiness and satisfaction. In your opinion, it was a blessing that you can make him feel good like this, make him whimper and cling onto you. “So good and so pretty for me, my baby.” A soft chuckle left your lips, eyes filled with adoration scanning over his mechanical body. He really was beautiful, every side of him, from his adorable personality to his looks. You swore to yourself that you’d always love him, his past, and his future. A future where you hope to be in the picture as well.

That lovely gaze of yours didn’t escape his sharp senses, those very loving eyes were what caused boothill to fall for you. He found comfort in them, solace and peace. It was indescribable. The moment you look at him with such tenderness he haven’t felt since centuries, he crumbles like sand with water. Somehow, you were able to make his nonexistent heart beat, causing him to year for you. All he could do was thank the aeons for granting him this comfort, since you reciprocated his feelings he tried so hard to suppress. “S-stop it with those uHhm~ dadgem compliments…” The cyborg scoffed, biting his bottom lip to keep his moans in check.

“But you deserve them, sweetie, and it’s only the truth. It’s what I think about you.” You mumbled against his head, using your free hand to stroke his long hair. “I really adore you.” You added after seeing his ears redden. Sometimes he thinks you are an angel, because of how nice you are, yet other times you were straight up the devil’s incarnation. Whenever you’d tease him until he’s whimpering and humiliated, that is. “Still.. stop it.” Boothill insisted, he felt way too embarrassed and aroused by just some praises that it was hurting his ego. His hands were bawled into fists behind your neck, sometimes when it got especially intense he’d also scratch your back.

Instead of nodding along, you just smiled again, picking up your pace on his length. His body has been warmed up by your body heat at this point, that’s how long you two have been going at it. How many times has he cum now? Since there are no physical signs of him reaching his orgasm, you could only guess from his other body languages. If you guessed rightly, it’d be three times already. When you suddenly started going faster, the cowboy cried out, pressing his face further into the nook of your neck as he begged incoherently, “please please please.., no-no more, mommy..” If it weren’t for his inability to, he would have cried from the excessive pleasure.

Poor boy was panting and gasping the entire time, mouth hung agape because he got no time to close with from all the moaning. The ecstasy was too much, way too much to handle, to the point even his fake thighs shook uncontrollably. How was it even possible for him to feel anything below his neck? He doesn’t know. He also didn’t know if this is a blessing or a curse since, fudge, you are driving him insane. “Hngghh… I can’t I can’t..! Ah, ahhH- mommy, please…” Boothill whined again, he was such a mess now, all due to you, only for you.

“Shh, it’s alright baby. I’m right here, mommy here with you.” You reassured him, kissing his forehead gently. The warmth of your lips was the last straw he needed to spill over the edge, eyes rolling back as a chocked out moan escaped his throat. “UghH- uhmmHg..!!” All of this was too much for him, he could feel new electricity crashing down on him in waves. Then a sudden sharp pain coursed through your body. His fingers dug into your back, crawling at your skin again, leaving behind new scratch marks. You bit his neck to bear the sensations, drawing out another pained groan from the boy, “ugh-nnNghhHH~..!”

After calming down a bit, you kissed his face. From his cheeks to his nose and lips, leaving behind little pecks for him to enjoy. “So good for me, my good boy.” You praised him again, ending with him turning his face to the side and avoiding you. What an adorable thing he was, of course you didn’t mind his bratty behaviour, instead you laughed before teasing him, “did you enjoy it? I mean, you even started calling me ‘mommy’.” Immediately the blush previously pestering his cheeks returned, and he yelled out a ‘fork you’. Once again you giggled, kissing the tip of his nose again, then saying, “aw, I thought it was very cute though.”

Never would he ever admit to have done something so.. embarrassing yet cute. Boothill thought this was finally over when you suddenly started rubbing his tip again, causing him to let out a squeak, “aghNhh..?!” You looked at him with expectant eyes, asking him, “what, you didn’t think I was done already, did you?” Right after you finished that sentence, you started jerking him off in the earnest again, and he moaned through gritted teeth, “nGHhhh~ fudge… please spare me, mommy~~ ♡”

[erwinsvow]

there is nothing in this world that rafe cameron loves more than a sundress.

correction—that used to be the case. there's nothing in this world that rafe loves more than you in a sundress.

what had started off as a small preference, usually just joked about and then forgotten until the next sundress season started, had now turned into a full-blown obsession.

rafe stares, though he really shouldn't—mostly because he looks like a complete creep with his gaze locked on you all the time. even when you're just a few feet away, his eyes are burning holes through your body, especially when you're in one of those dresses.

he stares at the hem, how it floats around your thighs when you walk and brushes gently against your skin. doesn't that bother you? he thinks to himself, fully knowing how sensitive that part of you is because usually he's the one touching you there. you squirm when his fingers trace behind your knee and up your thighs, but the dress doesn't seem to do anything like that.

he stares at thin straps, sometimes hastily tied into a bow resting on the top of your shoulders, other times skinny little things that he thinks he could rip off with a little tug. he wouldn't even have to put much strength into it, it would probably tear away from your dress at the first pull. he can't—of course—you love your precious dresses too much for that and he's thinking these thoughts at the dinner table in front of a whole restaurant, but the thought still lingers.

other times it's the way the straps have slid off your shoulder, resting around your arm until you bring your fingers to lift it again. and even then, it just falls again at the next jostle of your body.

like now, when you're shopping for something new and rafe's following right behind you. there's a shopping bag in one hand that you won't let him hold, and your purse on the other arm, and everytime you try to browse through a rack, the strap falls down.

you give up after the next few times, letting your bare shoulder face rafe while you try to find a new pair of jeans from the options in front of you. when you pick up a pair and turn to rafe, you find he's already staring.

"rafe?" you ask, not sure exactly what he's looking at you so keenly for. "do you like these?"

you hold the jeans out to him for an opinion, though you know what'll he say—that all of the ones on the rack look the same to him.

but he doesn't say anything. still staring at you with an intensity you don't understand, your boyfriend's eyes briefly flick from the jeans back to you, and then to your shoulder. he reaches out, fingers brushing your skin, and your head turns to follow. he picks up the fallen strap from your arm and brings it up around the curve of your shoulder until it's secured once again.

"oh," you say, turning to rafe with a smile. your face feels surprisingly hot. "thank you."

"yeah," rafe mutters, looking back at you while you turn—a little confused—back to the jeans on the rack.

it's not just the straps, either, it's all of it. the pretty colors that make your skin glow, some of the floral patterns he's engrained into his memory from looking at for far too long, even the way the dress sits on your body.

but more than that, it's because he knows exactly what's underneath these dresses and what's waiting for him.

he knows all of it—miles of smooth skin, curves that are made for his touch, the places where the two of you fit together like pieces of a puzzle. staring at you now, mindlessly sifting through the clothes without a second thought or even an understanding of what exactly is running through your boyfriend's mind, you wander over to other dresses.

there's more of the same—skinny straps and short, flowy skirts. each one you hold up paints a vivid picture in his head—how easily he could lift it up to your hips, how the fabric would look bunched around your stomach while he holds you in place.

he does that a lot—keep you in your little dresses while he fucks you, sometimes out of impatience, sometimes out of the sheer desire to watch your body sweat and strain inside the material until he eventually gives in and rips it up.

yes, rafe loves your sundresses.

"pink.." you say, holding up one dress with another sweet smile, snapping him out of his thoughts instantly. "or white?"

both look similar—the pink is smaller, maybe a little more snug on you, which is an appealing thought. the white is looser, but with the little straps he likes so much, the ones he can untie with one tug and reveal your tits in one go.

"hm," rafe says, as though he's actually considering it. he leans in a little, and you keep smiling, eyes a little big, waiting for an answer. but you don't get one, just rafe taking both hangers out of your hand.

"no, i didn't mean-"

"i know. c'mon, kid, let's get outta here."

"rafe, i just want one-"

"well you're gettin' both."

a little pout takes over your features—you don't really mean it, he knows, since two dresses instead of one is nothing to complain about. instead he knows you feel bad about it. but to you, rafe is nothing if not generous. he turns back, clutching both of your new dresses way too tightly in his fist.

"how 'bout.. you get both, and you thank me at home? huh?" your pout replaced with a smile, you nod at rafe while you lead him to the check out counter.

he stares at the back of your dress while you walk away. too distracted again, he stays in place, watching.

"rafe? are you coming?"

"yeah, kid. comin'."

[internalloops]

DA:TV rant … if you are of the mind that BioWare can do no wrong /its games can be criticize or if you truly enjoying the game and are loving everything that you’ve seen so far this post is not for you. Please move along and if you don’t want me showing up on your feed please block me.  I will not be engaging with any fan that will not allow me to take up space and vent my feelings on the disaster that is this fucking game.

*Also a lot of spoilers!!

.. it’s horrible, like I knew I was going to be disappointed but holy fucking shit …

I’m about to finish act one and .. they destroyed their entire lore … BioWare destroyed their ENTIRE lore /world build of Dragon Age

Minrathous has NO SLAVES !!! They are briefly talked about via shadow dragons but they’re are none visible at all in the city ( but they have the animation to give a poor person “fake money” )

The qunari who literally fought and tried to kill solas in trespasser have been turned into mindless brutes who willingly joined the evil gods … because they command dragons ?

The blight except for one mission is harmless. They purposely turned it into a bio weapon and then (besides the dark spawn spawning from it like something out of an MMO) due to *plot armor, no one actually contracts the blight ???

The black chantry minus one building that you go through in a side quest doesn’t exist? No chantry members , no talk of the black divine ..

Dalish are all engineers now and part of the veil jumpers ( which should not exist lore wise) and all elven magic has been converted into cyberpunk technology and artifacts. Very little talk about their oppression and they are all very willing to drop all their history , even their distrust of solas , to flight the old gods .

Varric Has been demoted to inspirational speaker and narrator he has no other role and the entire team acts like he died , even when he’s in the room with him ( I think BioWare actually planned to kill him but then chickened out ) and is a husk of his former self

Same with Morgan , you can’t interact with her at all and she’s given the same mysterious background as flemeth ( the theory that she carries mythal spirit is very strong right now )

Lyrim potions don’t exist, in fact lyrim doesn’t exist at all besides the dagger. All magic has turned into technology, and if you play as a mage mana just has an automatic replenish rate /cool down effect that you can level up.

Evil gods go back and forth between an actual intense adversary and threat to the world, and a typical Disney villain.

These are just the few I can think of off the top of my head, there is so much more than this …

The game can literally be summed up as Mass effect andromeda x2 with God of war animations and marvel style writing ( not the avengers I’m talking about the recent shit)

Also for the people who want to kill solas or simply dislike him, the game pushes a sympathetic view of him on you ,even your companions who outrightly want to kill him will feel sorry for him. And I’m saying this as a solavellan fan. Yes they’re options to be mean to him and antagonize him, but you won’t get anyone agreeing with your actions ,at best they’ll be neutral about it. Now this might play out differently for those who picked the “chooses to stop him “ option , but for those who’s inquisitions wanted to save him but they wanted their rooks to hate him … you’re not gonna be happy about what you get ..

The only thing that keeping me playing is the reveal of history of ancient elves and Titans and solas’s story. And Assan!! Assan can do no wrong !! Everything else is a slog to get through.