#cheap brand but I love it anyway

[bibleofficial]

it’s me & my faggoty ass scrunchie against the world

[thebookishwallflower]

Made my first batch of henna and am doing some tattoo style designs!!! So excited to have art on my body again :}}}

[humbuggered]

"WE'VE HAD TO SAY A LOT OF STUFF

WE THOUGHT WAS FUCKING OBVIOUS

LIKE YES, IT'S OK TO PUNCH NAZI'S!" -Cheap Perfume, It's Ok /lyr

fuck nazis, the pathetic sacks of human shit /srs

FUCK NAZIS

[milkmily]

Eat, Bath, Maybe me?ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙──────────────────────────

Mr. Crawling x Reader

Smut cuz I can and I want him. Also because this fanart really inspired me a lot heheheh. I went to the ER today guys 🥲 I was in sm pain. I have gallstones. Yay. So fun.

Art by:@/Tado25

Living with Mr. Crawling came with its ups and downs. After living with him for a while, there have been some changes to your day to day life with him. For starters, coming home after a stressful day at work/classes and met with loneliness was met by his giggles. He crawls to you and hugs your legs as he says, “You back.” As he pulled you down to him so that he could kiss you.

Your bed at nights no longer felt super Lonely and cold. You'd be met with small giggles and his big hands running through your hair or your Body.

And well, your sex life changed too. Mr. Crawling really really likes to make you feel good. At times, his pleasure is pushed behind just so he can make you feel good after a stressful day after work/classes. Or in general any day. He sees you tensed up after work and he pulls you down for a kiss, and soon it just turns into your pants down as his face is in between your legs eating your pussy out as he holds your legs up and apart to prevent you from closing them. He sees you sitting down watching TV and he's in-between your legs making you cum already for the 3rd time with his tongue.

But most Of all he just really loves to feel you wrapped up around his cock. When you are sleeping he gently is tugging at your panties and begging for you to let him. Or he's humping his poor boner on your ass as you sleep. And of course, you always help him when you can. A thigh job, a tit job, a hand job and a blow job. But your pussy is always available for him. And he knows that already.

Now some of the downs are when he keeps waking you up in the middle of the night to his giggles and touches. Also when he tried to cook for you, he almost burned down your apartment. Anddddd people now think your apartment is haunted because they hear giggles and random sounds inside your apartment when your neighbors know that you are living alone.

But honestly you don't mind any of it. You just like that Mr. Crawling is there with you. Per usual, you walked back to your apartment after class. You were pretty stressed up already since you had just finished a test and all you thought about was what the hell would your score be. Thankfully, work gave you some days off to study and for your exams. You open the door with your key and are greeted with a giggle. “Hi Mr. Crawling.” You say as you take your shoes off and look down. Your eyes go wide and gulped. “You home.” He spoke. Why are you so shocked right now?

Well, he's wearing an apron. Only an apron. “you want eat? Want a bath? Maybe…” he crawls closer to you as you froze there, heart beating fast. He hugs your legs as He looks up at you. “Me?” He asked and giggled as he tugged at your skirt. You looked away and sigh. “Bath.” You say. He giggles and crawls to the bathroom. You catch your breath as you hold tightly to your shirt. Holy shit.

You walk into the bathroom and are met with a bathtub filled with water and some random soap. You looked down and saw a whole empty bottle of your favorite and brand new bubble bath. Oh God. You hear Mr. Crawling giggle as he gently splashes the water. Who cares, it's cheap soap anyways. You stay to take off your sweater when you feel his hand pull down your skirt. He grabs your panties and pulls Them down. He brings his face closer to your pussy lips and sniffles. He pressed a kiss on it, making you shiver. “Good.” He says and helps you out of the rest of your clothes.

In the bathtub, he was massaging your shoulder, making you moan and groan at the feeling of his hands on your shoulders. His hands would move from time to time to cup your breasts and pinch your nipples and massage them. But you didn't mind, you loved it. His lips would meet your neck and leave gentle bite makes On your neck.

Once out of the bathtub, he helped you dry up and put on your comfortable baggy and long gown. You sigh, feeling super satisfied and happy. “What is there to eat…?” You asks softly as you walked out and Mr. Crawling crawls right beside you. At the kitchen you are met with some messy dishes. “Hmm…” You start to wash them and clean the counter. Mr. Crawling looked at you but he wasn't grinning or giggling like he always does. He seemed…guilty. You come back home from a stressful day and have to clean? That was his mistake. “Me sorry.” He spoke and you shook your head. “It's okay.” You smiled as you cupped his face. He leans on to your touch and smiles.

“How about you help me?” You say and he tilts his head. “You help me?” And he immediately nods.

But honestly the food waited. As you were cutting up some carrots Mr. Crawling took advantage of the gown you had on and went inside. He pulled your panties to the side and rubbed his nose and sniffled. “He-Hey stop! You'll make me cut myself.” You say and jump as you feel his tongue slide between your folds. You let out a shaky sigh and brought Your ass out more to give him more acces. You could hear him giggle before he brought his lips to your clit, sucking and licking it. You closed your eyes as you moaned and tried your best in cutting up the carrots. But the way his tongue licked and his hands held tightly to your thighs. He moaned as he tasted your wet pussy and stuck his tongue in. You jumped and moaned, the knife now on the table, long forgotten alongside the carrots.

Your legs were going weak as he kept flicking his tongue on your poor clit. You hold onto the counter and whine as he pushes his fingers inside of you. So long and nice, they always always made you feel good. He always made you feel soooo good. “Mr. Crawling m- ah fuck like that. Please.” You whined and he continued to push his fingers in and out of your pussy, your juices leaking down to his face. Honestly, you've gotta get used to his cold touch. You don't scream every time he touches you with his big cold hands. They are something you are used to and his coldness always makes you Feel 10× better. You lift up the gown to see him eating your pussy out, so concentrate on you.

You pushed his head away, earning a whine from him and a small frown. You smiled at him and looked down to see the very huge tent he had that his poor apron Did a horrible job at hiding. “Stand.” You say and point at him. “you stand.” He doesn't really like standing up in front of you. He’ll do it when you aren't home. He's scared that you'd get scared by his height. but as you lift up your pretty gown and lean on the counter ass out, he couldn't help but do as you say so. And God, he is tall. He lifts up his apron that was covered with his precum. You could feel his long cock on the back of your ass and you push yourself More on to him. He whines and grabs your ass.

You were way too short for him to reach. He groans as he tries to position his cock to your aching pussy. You gasp as you were suddenly lifted up by him and put your knees on the kitchen counter. Your eyes go wide as you feel him shove his cock inside, the stretch making you moan.

He whimpers and whines as he pushes his hips back towards you. You moan as your eyes go wide. He looks down at your ass and holds on to it as he squeezed. “Hmpt- good?” He asks and you nod. “Good.” With tears in your eyes. He was a bit worried and tilted his head. “You not good?” He asks and you shake your head. “You just feel really good Mr. Crawling.” You whined. “Me good. Really good.” You repeat and moan as his hips move again. He groans and starts to quicken his pace. He whimpers and whines as he moves faster. You were holding on To the end of the counter as your poor cunt got pounded. You felt so good holy shit. His cock had you forgetting everything and anything.

You covered your mouth as you remembered your neighbors but he pushed his hips harshly, making you moan loudly. He moved his hands to cup your breast as he kept pounding on to you. Your eyes roll back and moan. His cock made your pussy feel so good, skin slapping and his cock wet and covered with your pussy's cream. You couldn't last Anymore and come on his cock as you scream. Your eyes rolled back, yoru back arching more as you cum. But that didn't stop him. He kept thrusting and thrusting, making you whimper and whine. “W-Wait- Oh my god!” You moaned.

He pulled away and giggled as he Panto and saw your pussy juice dripping.

He pants and turns you. You whimper at his touch and he lifts you up, pinning your back on the cold wall. Without needing his hands, he pushed his cock right back into your cunt with a thrust. Your back was on the kitchen wall as Mr. Crawling pounds Your pussy, his hands lifting you up as he pounds and groans into you. Your eyes rolled back as he kept fucking you. You couldn't even speak. All you were doing was moaning and screaming. Your hands holding his shoulders to support yourself.

He lifts your gown up to show your pretty bouncing tit's. He groans and brought one to his mouth as he fucked you. Your poor tit had bites and hickeys all over them. His thrusting was becoming sloppy. Without even telling him, you cum once again on his cock. Your body felt super sensitive and all of his thrust made you cry. Soon, he thrusted one last time into you harshly and came inside of you. He groans and whimpers and pulls out. His cum dripped out of you onto the floor. He nuzzles His face on your neck and whimpers. “Me like you.” He says in-between pants.

“like you.” You say back.

Heyyy @cyberzombi3

😝 gimme

honestly i love you all sm lol like omg omg❤️❤️

I have so many random body parts and souls too.

[janitorhutcherson]

Marked Only for Me (Olderbf!Mike Schmidt NSFW)

hii!! okay, i have never written smut before, so i am begging you all to plz be patient with me! this is very long, so my apologies.this is a part of my olderbf!mike series, so hope u guys likeee. also, for this let's make the assumption mike went to college and all of that before his security jobs. he just had burn out and was there, hence why he's working for a major company with what would be little experience. anyways, lmk what u think!

summary: mike comes home and needs to blow off some steam

warnings: nudity, sex, name calling, hair pulling, choking, marking, possessiveness, an implied free use situation, fluff at the end!!

word count: 2,925

nsfw after the cut!!

You were sitting at the kitchen table doing homework in the home you shared with your boyfriend, Mike. You're 20, a couple of years into college, drudging through math problems that make your head feel like it's sitting inside a frying pan. You had to admit this wasn't your ideal way to relax after a 10-hour shift at the bookstore you helped run. Things had been hectic with Black Friday, your store doing a special sale where everything was 50% off, and bookworms were coming out of random corners to fill their already overflowing shelves for cheap. Of course, being younger, you were the one who had to do the grunt work, carrying piles of books to and from inventory, dealing with the more demanding customers as your older coworkers would tell you that they "just couldn't handle kids these days" and that it'd certainly be better for the younger one to do it. Luckily, though, Abby was at a friend's house, meaning you didn't have distractions. You were as focused as could be with a cup of coffee beside you, the sunlight that was once beaming through the cracks of the blinds now completely gone. You were focused, your brain functioning as much as it would with the problems. Things were quiet.

...That is until Mike stormed in. He was frustrated, angry, an invisible red-hot aura beaming off him. His hair was messier than it typically was. The softness in his eyes was instead replaced with a cold look. His eyebrows were furrowed together on his forehead, his jaw sharp and defined as he gritted his teeth. Although this wasn't common, it wasn't necessarily rare either. Mike worked for a publishing company as a marketing manager. He'd gotten the job after a few months of hard work to make up for the slack on his resume after working at the mall and the pizzeria. He moved up the ladder quickly, his company admiring his friendly attitude and his somewhat shy but personable behavior. He loved his job much more than his past ones. He felt happier, got more time off, was less stressed, and was definitely safer. Even with that being said, sometimes shit just pissed him off.

Today's big issue was a meeting with his marketing team, which also involved the big guy over his head. He felt like he was criticized, demeaned, dragged through the mud, and all in front of the team he was supposed to be respected by, listened to. On a typical day, this might not have pissed him off so much. He might've mentally plotted the demise of his boss, but he wouldn't have caused the outburst he did at work, and today had been particularly awful. He'd been late, burned his breakfast, knicked himself while shaving, and even gotten into what he considered to be a little fight with you the night before. Even though you'd both settled the argument, made up, and kissed before bed, he had been thinking about it all day. He'd then spilled coffee on his brand new tie, leaving a stain, and then... that happened. Mike snapped. He yelled at his boss, showing his ass in front of everyone, causing a meeting in his boss's office to end with an inevitable write-up. 

Now, he was home, trudging in all his bad energy, disrupting your study time. You couldn't even be frustrated with him, his demeanor proving he'd obviously had a bad day. You went to stand up to greet him with a hug, a kiss or two, but before you could, Mike stormed over to you, grabbing your arm harshly. You gasped, slightly thrown off by his sudden actions. He pulled you closer to him, his eyes locked on yours and his breath heavy against your neck.

"What the fuck, Mike?" you said, your eyebrows furrowed as you stared into his cold brown-green orbs.

"Listen to me," he grunted, his voice low and gravely. "I have had a very, very bad day, and I need you to be a good girl for me, okay? I don't want no shit, no back talk, you'll listen to what I say.. do you understand?" 

His hand still gripped your arm, his fingernails digging into your skin. You could feel yourself starting to drip, your panties feeling damp against your skin as your body buzzed with excitement. All you could do was nod your head, your eyes locked on his as they clouded over with lust. Mike snapped his fingers in your face, looking at you from underneath his eyebrows. 

"Use your words," he demanded. 

"Yes sir, I understand," you stuttered out, your cheeks flushing red. Mike's face was now pleased, his entire demeanor softening a little. His hand stayed wrapped around your arm as he tugged you into the living room, pushing you roughly onto the couch. You huffed from the impact, your eyes widening as Mike dropped to his knees before you. He slid your sweatpants off, prying your knees open to reveal your see-through pink panties soaked beyond belief. His eyes were hungry, his mouth open, almost drooling as he looked directly into your eyes. 

"All for me, babydoll?" he teased, his hand sliding in between your legs as he drew small circles around your clothed clit. You nodded your head as a whimper escaped your lips, the aching in between your legs only growing worse.

"What did I tell you?" he said, his words sharp as he smacked the inside of your thigh.

"Yes sir," you corrected, your words wavering after the impact from his hand. Mike nodded, satisfied with your answer, as he slowly slid your panties down your thighs, wasting no time. You gasped once again as the cold air hit your wet cunt. Mike exhaled sharply, taking a moment to admire you in front of him. His eyes trailed up to your pathetic look, your already-glazed-over eyes, down to your barely clothed chest, only a sports bra covering your breasts he loved so much, then down to in between your legs, where you were so wet, and all just for him. His lips trailed up to your tummy, sucking on the skin in different areas, from above your abdomen all the way up to right below where your sports bra stayed, purple marks forming.

He then dove in without hesitation, his large hands gripping your sides as he leaned in, moving one hand to take his index and middle finger to spread your pussy lips. His mouth instantly attached to your clit. You yelped as you bucked your hips forward, his lips meeting the sensitive area. Mike pinched your thigh, a sign to quiet down until he said to do otherwise, two of his fingers reaching out to be shoved into your mouth.

“Suck,” he demanded, his fingers going as far back down your throat as they could. You did what you were told, sucking on his fingers and drawing your own circles with your tongue. His tongue drew tiny and slow circles against the set of nerves, your hands reaching down to tangle in his hair from desperation. God, he loved eating you out. The way you yelped, quivered, shook underneath him, your hands tangled in his hair to keep yourself from going over the edge. He fucking loved it, you were the perfect cure to his anger, calming, something he could take it out on in a productive way that made everyone feel good. Your whines were suppressed as you bit your lip, your teeth digging into the softer skin. Mike pulled away for a moment, his eyes locking with yours once again as he admired your face, your now swollen lips.

“You know what, baby? Be as loud as you want for me now, princess,” he mumbled, going back to attacking your wet cunt. Slurping sounds filled the living room mixed with your moans and whimpers as his tongue slid up and down your slit, his lips wrapping around your clit to suck as hard as possible when his tongue wasn’t fucking inside of you. He moaned against you, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. His cock was rock hard inside of his work pants, his own face flustered as he rocked back and forth against himself. His tongue continued to lap at your clit as he slid two of his large fingers in and out of you, your walls clenching around them. You could feel yourself drawing close and Mike could tell. Your thighs attempted to clench around his head, but before they could his calloused hands pried them open, holding them apart. Just as your eyes began to clamp shut, your thighs shaking as the knot in your stomach started to untie, Mike pulled away. You gasped as he slipped his fingers out, furrowing your eyebrows as you stared at him with an angry glare. He chuckled as he stood up, raising his eyebrows up and down as he leaned down, his hand lifting your chin up.

“Poor baby, was all ready to finish for me, hm? You were gonna be ‘Mikey’s little slut,’ weren’t you? That’s what you tell me you are, right? My little slut?” he teased, no remorse behind his eyes. You huffed, punching his arm before crossing your arm, too out of it to say anything from the knot that remained in your stomach but too angry to take initiative.

“Awh, don’t be mad, princess,” he snickered, shaking his head as he leaned further down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “You really think I’m done with you?”

With that being said, Mike pushing you back on the couch. His right hand held you down as his lift struggled to unbutton his pants. He pulled his pants down, letting them fall around his ankles as he yanked his boxers off, his cock springing out. He stepped out of them, letting you go for a moment to unbutton his shirt before tossing it off as well. Mike then looked over to you, leaning forward, ripping your thin sports bra off of your chest, your breasts now exposed to him. He licked his lips, excitement overflowing his body. He crawled on top of you, attempting to make the two of you fit on the couch. His mouth attacked your nipples, biting and gnawing at your skin. His mouth moved up to your neck, sucking and prodding and biting until purple marks were left all around, ones you were all too aware would be impossible to hide later on. He moved down to your chest once again, marks all across your collarbone, your tits. Mike’s hands gripped onto your neck as he sat up, looking into your glossed over eyes. He pressed his lips to your ear, a soft kiss against your earlobe.

“’M about to fuck you so hard you see stars,” he said, his voice causing prickles to cover your skin. Then, without hesitation Mike slammed into you, his pace staggered. Your moans were as loud as could be, the sound of skin hitting against each other and the echoes of both of your voices filling the living room. His thrusts were sloppy as he felt himself starting to get close to the edge, his hands pushing your hips down and into the couch. Your entire body sunk into the cushions as he used everything in him, his cock abusing your poor cunt. You swore you saw stars until you felt his hand gently smack against your cheek, your eyes averting back to his gaze.

“You’re gonna look at me when I fuck you, princess,” he growled, his hand sliding up to your hair as he tugged. You grew close, clenching around his length, your thighs starting to shake. Your core was threatening to come undone.

“Fuck, Mikey, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum,” you whimpered out, closing your eyes as your head leaned back against the side of the couch.

“Cum for me, baby,” Mike stated. You did as he demanded, finishing around his cock as your liquids gushed against him. His thrusts grew sloppier before he pulled out, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“You’re such a good girl, you know that baby? You did so good for me, listening to what I said, letting me use your pretty cunt,” he stated, his thumb caressing your cheek. He then resituated, pulling you off the couch, pushing you onto the ground. You were now in the same position he was in earlier, completely fucked out. Your lips were dull from exhaustion, your cheeks red and your hair knotted in certain areas. Mike’s cock was directly in front of you, his hand guiding for you to suck on him. Your lips wrapped around his tip, the tip of your tongue licking his slit. You worked your mouth down his length, licking the sides. Mike’s moans became frantic, desperate as your mouth worked its magic. His hand tangled in your hair as he pushed your head up and down, thrusting up into your mouth.

“That’s it, baby, feels so good,” he grunted. With no warning, Mike pulled out, spilling his load all over your face. He twitched, his moans loud and low, your tongue stuck out to catch his cum. His body laid against the couch, feeling heavy as his head leaned against the back of his couch. A tired grin was on his lips as you also smiled up at him, licking yourself clean. Mike looked down at you, a chuckle releasing his lips. It was obvious all of the tension and anger was gone, as his once cold eyes were once again the soft loving brown they used to be. He looked at you with adoration, always amused by how gorgeous you were even after rigorous activity and getting your face painted.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, picking you up bridal style as he leaned down to kiss you, not caring about his own load that was now on his face. He sat you down on the bathroom counter, grabbing a washcloth out of the cabinet, running it under warm water. He started to wipe away all of the liquids covering your face, pressing kisses to your skin here and there, looking your body up and down as he admired all of the marks he left.

“You always know how to make me feel good and how to take care of me after,” you croaked out, your voice laced with exhaustion as you smiled. Mike smiled back at you, his hand tenderly touching your cheek before pushing your hair behind your ear.

“I love you, of course I want to make sure ‘m taking care of you,” he said softly. His lips once again pressed against yours. “Thank you for letting me… you know.. blow off some steam,” he said, wiggling his brows.

“Of course, honey. I was worried, though. Is everything okay? Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, leaning forward as you slid off of the counter, grabbing a new washcloth and beginning to wipe his face with it as well. Mike sighed, shaking his head as he looked at her with sad eyes.

“I just- I got into it pretty badly with my boss at work and got criticized, I felt like a wounded animal, like I had to fight. I’m so used to having to fight that I don’t know how to shut up and listen,” he mumbled. “It was so bad, Y/N, and I got written up after that awful day I had this morning… I just.. I don’t know. I do know I feel better now, and would feel even better if we cuddled for a bit and then went out for food?” he suggested, spilling his thoughts to you. You giggled, nodding your head as you reached up to press a kiss to him. You dragged him into your shared bedroom, the two of you cuddling up together under the blankets. You turned to your side, your eyes locked with his.

“I love you, Mike, so much. And I’m so, so unbelievably proud of you. Thank you, for always making me feel good too, for taking care of me, for being such a good brother to Abby, just… thank you,” you said softly. Mike looked back at you lovingly, his appreciation for you apparent.

“I love you, princess, you don’t even know how much,” he mumbled. His eyes were heavy. He leaned over and set an alarm for an hour from now, the two of you planning on a night of dinner out and grocery shopping. He curled his arm around you lazily, your body limp and exhausted against his as you yawned.

“Oh, and baby?” he asked. You hummed, lifting your head to meet his eyes. “Wear a crop top when we go out, I want everyone to see you all marked up.” You giggled as you laid your head down, drifting off to sleep.

When you two went out, you did just that, wearing a cropped scoop neck shirt with a low-rise flowy skirt. He showed off any marks you’d left, too, your possessive boyfriend holding you close anytime someone’s eyes linger too long. Mike was strange, possessive, and sometimes a little of what most would say was unsettling, but to you, he was the love of your life, the man who made you feel good, the one who fucked you until you couldn’t think. You loved him, and you always would, blessing you with a lifelong supply of angry sex and aftercare cuddles.

[copperbadge]

This is not to sniff at packaged food in any way, because cheap, uniform, nutritious, premade food is important and necessary. And despite what your local tiktok orthorexic may tell you, packaged food is still capable of providing solid nutrition.

That said, I've been making my own bread for about twenty years, and for the last ten or so it has often been easier to make bread than buy it, solely because I don't need to leave the house to do so, and I live alone so a decent loaf can last me a good ten days. Being able to make ones own bread in this modern era is a product of privilege -- the resources to buy the ingredients (especially high quality flour, not cheap), the time and space to bake, the stamina to knead or equipment to make kneading easier -- my breads improved a lot when I got a good stand mixer, and those aren't cheap. But also, to make a decent edible boule you can get by with flour, water, yeast, salt, and time. Throw in a little oil and you can make pizza crust; add in kneading and a bit of sugar and you have bagels.

It did somewhat change how I eat, because homemade bread is often a little difficult to make a sandwich with, but I was never a huge fan of sandos anyway. These days I often don't even make loaves -- I make rolls or bagels, or flatbreads.

But all of this is to say that because I'm now accustomed to eating my own bread, which is necessarily small-batch and produced without stabilizers that make commercial bread so soft and uniform, I am starting to struggle when I do buy bread because the flavor and texture often feel off. It's not that it's objectively bad food, but it's very different from what I'm used to, which is unpleasant. I've been aware of the issue for a while but previously even if the bread wasn't as good to me as my own, it was edible and convenient, so it was fine. Making your own hot dog buns is a pain in the ass.

I just bought a loaf of Italian bread, reasonably fresh, a brand I used to eat regularly, because I wasn't feeling up to baking anything. I've been making toast with it mostly. But yesterday morning -- admittedly while dealing with some nausea -- I bit into a sandwich I'd made with it (cashew butter and strawberry jam) and thought, "this feels like eating upholstery fabric."

I haven't been able to eat any more of it since. The soft, dense texture, the specific preservative flavor, the mouthfeel. I tried to eat some toast just now and had to spit it out because it felt like buttered brocade and I started to gag. I'm kind of mad about it, honestly.

The bread won't go to waste -- if I can't eat the rest of the bag I'll dry it out and crush it for breadcrumbs for fried chicken or a panade -- but it's both sad and funny that I have functionally baked myself into a corner where packaged bread is no longer even an option.

It feels like I'm becoming one of the middle-aged eccentrics I used to know when I was a kid -- older people or couples in my church, sometimes parents of my school friends, who were just kind of oddballs, hippie leftovers, what I still think of as Berkeley Weirdos (affectionate) even though Berkeley has long since gentrified. The lady who didn't have a functional oven or stove because she ate raw vegan or the family that converted their old station wagon to biofuel but kept the rear-facing back seats with no seatbelts and would give us death-defying rides to the community pool in them. I'm already growing my own basil because I eat an unlikely amount of pesto for one person. My signature potluck dishes are kiwi dip or egg-free meringues.

I don't mind, exactly. I loved the Berkeley Weirdos and the community they built for us kids. But it's definitely not a place I imagined ending up.

[lazyalani]

| Michael Kaiser × F!Reader

| open ending, bittersweet, mixed signals, situationship, mihya doesn't know what to do, reader just wants him, oh shit toxic, a rollercoaster, impulsive writing, ooc, might be bad but might be good, fast pacing, idk, not proofread, wushu angst

| You're losing me

| Blue Lock Masterlist

| Main Masterlist

and i wouldn't marry me either

The clock read midnight yet here you are, still awake. It wasn't like it was uncommon for people to stay up so late, anyone could stay up all night watching tiktoks and reels, or playing games. It was just that you weren't exactly doing any of those, here you are, watching the ceiling, waiting for him. Always just waiting.

It's always like this, a never-ending cycle of cursing him, but then waiting, and then cursing him again, but then when he comes knocking again, you open up.

You've always been someone reliable when you're asked questions, especially ones about that bastard. Why is Michael Kaiser so good at soccer? Talent. Why is Michael Kaiser so popular with girls? Genetics and Money. Why is Michael Kaiser always on the news? Arrogance. Why does Michael Kaiser always has a say on something? Ego.

Why does he come to you instead of heading to his oh-so luxurious mansion he flawnted with his huge ego along with the piles of money on his account? That one, you couldn't answer.

You swear under your breath when you hear a knock.

And yet you let him in anyway.

a pathological people pleaser,

"Mien leibe, how are you, love?" He says with that sickly sweet smile on his face as he enters and puts his coat and training bag on the couch, a routine you've gotten used to.

The routine also included you just melting into his arms as he sinks in into your bed, enjoying a few moments of his ego ranting and then falling into silence before falling asleep.

But not today.

"Michael, why don't you go home for today?" You say as you turn your back on him, busying yourself with the fridge to avoid his stare.

He laughs and sits down on the couch. "Oh? What's this all of a sudden?" He crosses his legs, spreading his arms on the backrest.

You grip a drink on your hand, still having your back turned. "Just, you should go home."

Because the routine also included him leaving before you wake up, without anything, a note, or something to hold on to, and then proceeding to live out his career, his life, where you couldn't be, where you don't belong. Soccer, victory, celebrations, promotions, advertisements, brand deals, partnerships, modellings, media. Models and media.

who only wanted you to see her

You didn't even know where you stand in this glorious life of his. Why is he even here with you? Why is he sitting on this cheap couch instead of his throne like home? Why does he come to you instead of those models the media claim to be his girlfriend that changes every brand deal and sponsorships?

Why you?

But then it's hard to divert and change your thinking because it changes to Why doesn't he stay here with you? Why doesn't he say a word when he leaves? Why does he even leave? Why does he only come at night? Why does he not clear things up in the media? Why do you even want him to clear it up when you have nothing together? Why is he with those models?

Why not you?

and i'm fading thinking

do something, babe, say something,

He laughs it off. "I'm already here, you want me to leave again?" He snorts.

It wasn't his fault you were so insecure. It wasn't his fault you were being selfish. It wasn't his fault you were being demanding. It wasn't his fault you're assuming things. It isn't his fault because you knew those peaceful nights would eventually come to an end.

But then again, you were tired. So be selfish again, and so you want to stop and rest. You didn't want to play this mind game anymore, it was draining.

You can't fight a losing game. But it was humiliating to think that you were the only one fighting, just to still lose.

Somehow, you knew deep inside he had reasons. Reasons only the closest to his heart would understand.

This empire he was living in was something he built from a rock. The lavish and luxurious life he lived now was something not even the sun and moon could offer him, because this was a result of his blood and sweat. Nothing could ever come in between him and his most treasured gold, his empire, he cannot afford to lose it now. Not when he endured so much just to get to the top. You knew that.

And you were a threat to that.

You were something forbidden. A normal nobody who stood nothing against the world he belonged. You would ruin his image. You would ruin him. He cannot afford to have you. Not fully, atleast, which leads to your current, toxic situation.

lose something, babe,

risk something,

He can't bring himself to choose, huh?

Then you will decide for him.

A few moments of silence passed by, you let him process and sink that you were serious.

You hear the couch squeak as he switches his position on the couch, you finally turn to face him.

His arms propped on his knees as he leans forward, staring at you, as if discerning and trying to read your expression, your mind.

"Mien leibe," He slightly moves his head to side. "you should rest."

You let a smile slip as you stare at him.

He was always the same. Silky blonde with streaks of blue at the end, tattoo on his eyelids, the charismatic aura around him, handsome face, striking features, attractive body and voice. You never questioned how you fell for him. Because you knew who he once was behind the elegant facade. Before the money. Before the fame.

But it seemed like this was the life he was meant to live. This was the life he deserved. And this life didn't have you in it.

Putting down the drink, you approached him and bent down infront of him, cupping his face with your two hands and caressing his cheeks with a smile on your face. "Mihya, you've always been handsome, hm?" You slightly turned his face to sides, as if inspecting him. "I've always, liked your eyes." You whispered, voice almost too quiet. "The fire inside them never seemed to burn out."

His face hardens as he grips your hands and suddenly stands, pulling you up with him as he drags you to your room. "You're sleepy, love, let's go to bed." He says, face hard as stone, his grip hardening each second.

You stick your feet to the ground to stop you both. "Mihya, I'm tired."

"I know, that's why we're going to sleep." Before he drags you again, you hold his hand that was holding your other wrist.

"Michael, let's stop."

you're losing me

He chuckles humorlessly. "The only thing that needs to stop is your rambling, mien leibe. You're just tired from work, come on, let's sleep." He tugs again.

"Michael, I love you."

He stops and laughs emptily again. "Mien leibe, why are you doing this?"

"Mihya, I love you."

He shakes his head, eyes burning.

You cup his face again and press your foreheads together, his forehead on top of yours. "My precious Michael Kaiser, I love you."

You felt a tear drop on your cheek, but it wasn't yours.

Your heart contracted painfully seeing his red stained eyes.

"Why are you crying, my love?" You wipe away his tears with a smile.

"What are you saying all of a sudden?" He touches your hands on his cheeks.

"Is it wrong to say it infront of the one I love?"

"Stop saying that."

"Infront of my love?"

"Mien leibe, stop it."

"I love you, Kaiser."

"Stop it."

"Mihya, I—"

He grabs your shoulders and looks at you. You can't seem to read his expression. Is he mad? Angry? Sad? Disappointed? Furious?

"What will it take for you to stay?" The shake in his voice betrays his hardened face.

You shake your head. "Michael..."

"Do you want me to spend the day with you? Do you want to go out? Do you want to watch movies and eat all day? I'll fucking clear my schedule if that's it."

You kept shaking your head, tears falling with his.

"Do you want me to get on my knees and beg?"

You let out a sob when he drops on his knees and hold your hand.

"Stand up, Michael Kaiser!"

"Don't do this to me, mien leibe." He presses his forehead on the back of your hand. "Please..." He whispers against it. "I can't lose you. Not you."

"But you can't lose everything either." You say, dropping on your knees with him.

choose something, babe,

i got nothing to believe

You craddle his face with your hand.

"Please don't make me choose, I can't... I can't... I can't..." He kept shaking his head and repeating the same words.

Your heart contracted again at his desperation.

"I can't do this without you, mien leibe, but I don't want to go back anymore. I don't want to go back there anymore. Don't do this please, please, please, please..."

You were the only reminder of his past that he couldn't throw away. You were the only one who knew the real him. You were the only one who's genuinely proud of who he's become. You were the one thing no one could ever take away from him. But not if you were the one solely and willingly going away.

"Look at me, Michael. Are you not the greatest in this world? You've been strong, you can be stronger than this. You can be greater, even better, you don't need me. You never needed me, Mihya."

No, you were wrong. He thinks. But he can't get the words out his mouth. So many things circulating in his mind, he cannot even think anymore.

"You don't have to choose, Michael." You kiss his forehead. "I'll choose for us."

He stands up and leads you in the room, this time, you come with him. He lays you on top of him, enjoying a few moments of silence just like before.

You bring your face up from his chest to look at his face.

It was scarily devoid of anything, but the gentle hand on your hair calmed you.

Your rose up from his chest and brought your face above him, arms pressed on he sides of his head.

He stares up at you, fingers combing through the locks of your hair falling down, acting like a curtain, still devoid of any emotion.

You press a kiss on his lips, he presses you down further to prolong it.

"Once you've decided to settle down and finally have your peace, Michael..." You whisper against his lips.

He blinks at you, face still empty.

"Find me in the future, and maybe, maybe, we wouldn't have to be in another life."

[johnskleats]

Azula would have lost the Final Agni Kai no matter what. Here's why:

Azula is insecure. That's why she takes cheap shots. She did it with Katara, and she did it with Aang in CoD, AND she did it with Iroh striking him with lightning. One could even argue that her behavior in CoD foreshadows some of what happens in the Agni Kai, where in CoD, Katara fights Azula, and Zuko saves her, whereas in the Final Agni Kai, Zuko fights Azula and saves Katara. It's a little mismatch of dynamics.

Azula cheating (constantly), is a staple of dishonorable behavior, which I think is interesting.

We see her "play with her food" like a cat, with the Dai Lee and other opponents she encounters. She tricks them and manipulates them and there's no threat. Killing Aang with lightning was SUPREMELY stupid on her part, and she wouldn't have done it unless she was cornered. She didn't even stick around to make sure he was dead or have any of them followed-- because she was scared. Zuko NEVER flees in fights out of fear. He doubles down like a lunatic and tries to get himself killed instead. Azula is not willing to risk her life, and that's why she's a worse fighter. The insecurity gets to her head and she psychs herself out

Azula has a lot of fire power (lol), but Zuko has the heart and commitment to see actions through to the end. That's why he would have won, had Azula not cheated.

By the end, they were evenly matched in firepower anyway. They did the Raging Line of Flames Competing Colors thing and met in the middle, and stayed there. That's how animation tells us about their ability.

Azula's seat of power in her firebending is spite and fear. She's not even mad, bro.

Zuko's seat of power, at the end, is light and life and love. One is a powder keg that runs out after you blow it up once, and the other is like an oil fire in a parking lot. There's essentially infinite fuel there.

Zuko would have certainly outlasted her. And did, if you think about it. Because she panicked.

Azula's entire persona is a mask, just as Zuko's bravado and pettiness in the first season was a mask. (Funny, that he can only be himself when he's hidden the scar with the blue spirit mask, therefore freeing himself of the shame and the mark that brands him as a villain)

They show us that Azula's mask is not only slipping, but cracking, crumbling in the mirror scene. That's why it's there: to show the audience that all of her running has finally caught up with her.

This world that Azula created has been a sham from the beginning. Castles in the sky to make up for what she lacks: love.

Which is why she would never win against Zuko if they both reached their full potential, as they did during the comet.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Package Delivery (Vox x Reader)

CW: Roleplay, Electric stim, Blowjobs, doggy style, p n v sex, she really corny porn dialog, oops I spilled a little angst Rated: Adult Summary: After working too many late nights and canceling too any dates, Vox decides to make it up to you with an unplanned surprise. New desires are unlocked and explored as two lovers who’ve been apart for too many nights fall back together. 

What’s more romantic than a stiff, cheap VoxTek delivery uniform and a new work laptop, anyway? 

Vox stood in the hall, laptop box tucked under his arm. The hallway was deserted, just as he knew it would be. The electric doors wouldn’t open for anyone trying to come into this hall. Not that many did. Most of the residents of this wing worked in the offices in other wings of the tower. 

Not you though. You worked from the comfort of your apartment most days. It was a unique privilege, one you had only been able to half heartedly argue against being granted. 

You rejected the offers of moving into his penthouse or a nicer apartment. You rejected the offer of an easier job or just not working at all. In truth, Vox liked that about you. You loved him, not his money, his status, or his power. 

Him. 

That was something he had never found in life. In hell, he thought, finding such a love was even less likely. Yet, here you were. You had shown up in his life looking for a job. 

Your disarmingly sweet smile was unphased by his attempts to gain ownership of your soul. Soft shell covered a steely core and a mind that was as smart as a whip. Vox owned the souls of the vast majority of the employees of VoxTek, but not yours. 

Overtime, things had shifted from trying to buy your soul to trying to earn your heart. It had snuck up on him, catching him blindsided as casual conversations between meetings gave way to movie nights in your modest apartment. 

And then something shifted. A friendship became more though neither of you had been brave enough to call it what it was. That was the first time he had almost fucked it all up. He had wanted to shelter this thing he had with you, keep it locked away in the apartment’s safety. 

And then you said you wanted more. He almost ran, thought about it. He thought about pretending he hadn’t heard you. Hell, for a bit he pretended, but then, he stopped pretending. 

Being with you was heaven in hell. It was a refuge in a sea of meetings and cutthroat business deals that often ended with a throat cut. Again and again, he was sure he fucked it all up. How patient could you be? How long would you wait? How many sorries would you accept when meetings ran late or dates got canceled? 

Vox pulled at the starchy white shirt, brand new and fresh out of the employee storerooms. Everything he wore was, from the jacket that wasn’t quite wide enough through the shoulders for him to zip it up and the slacks that fitted just a little looser than he had his tailored. Even the shoes he wore were standard VoxTek delivery uniform. 

One deep breath later and he was rapping his knuckles against your door. He could have placed his hand against the lock pad and opened it. Hell, he was wired into every aspect of the building. He could have opened it with a mental twitch of his fingers. Instead, he knocked again.

“Coming,” your voice was muffled, coming from deep inside the apartment.

“VoxTek delivery.” Vox called out, shifting the soundwaves of his audio outputs slightly.

“Okay,” you called out from the other side of the door, slipping an oversized sweater over the spaghetti strap tank top and shorts you had been wearing. The clingy clothes left little to the imagination, but they were comfortable for lounging in, keeping you cool so you could avoid running the air conditioner more than you had to. “Be right there!” 

There was a tump as you stubbed your toe on an end table. You had moved it, thinking the new location would look nicer and all it had done was look wrong and cripple you three times that day alone. 

“Fuck!” you yelled, voice carrying through the door to the delivery man outside who was surely being entertained by the fiasco unfolding inside the apartment. It didn’t take detective work to put together the events. The table rammed into the wall and the vase of dried flowers fell over with a thud. “Shit, damn.” 

The knob rattled as you grabbed it, standing on one foot and rubbing your toe with the other hand as you opened the door. Vox quickly muted himself as he watched you, head downcast, with your hair falling into your eyes as you checked your foot for blood. He couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from his chest, silenced to preserve the surprise of his presence. 

“Sorry,” you said as you set your foot back to the ground, eyes trailing up the long legs of the delivery man. 

So many in hell were frankly offensively tall. As Vox watched your eyes trail up his form, he turned his sound back on, controlling his laugh. He stood with his back straight as your eyes made their way up. Now that he had his laugh, he was ready to commit to his bit. 

“Vox?” Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of your boyfriend, dressed in the handsome uniform of a standard delivery boy with a brown laptop box tucked under his arm. 

“Ma’am,” he tipped his head to you as his smile grew wider. “I’ve been sent to set up your replacement laptop.” 

“Oh?” You couldn’t help the smile that spread on your face. This was a side of Vox rarely seen by anyone else. He was charming, that was well known. What you knew that few others knew though, was that Vox had a goofy side to him. He was a dork who loved comfortable clothes, trash tv, sharks and doing whatever he could to make you laugh. 

“May I come inside and begin the setup process?” Vox asked, doing his best impersonation of how he expected his employees to behave. 

“Be my guest,” you stepped aside, holding the door open as Vox walked inside. He carefully toed his shoes off as he expected his employees to do when entering a home, though he knew most didn’t bother. 

Your eyes ran over his back, taking in the charmingly poor fit of his clothes as he set the box on the counter, next to where your dead laptop sat. He opened the box and unpacked the shiny blue tinted laptop you knew damn well wasn’t standard issue. 

“I need to plug this in.” Vox turned to you, holding the plug in his hand as if he didn’t know where you always had your laptop plugged in. “Where would you like it?” 

“Oh?” You were enjoying how committed to the bit Vox was. It made you want to see what it took to break his resolve. What would it take to break the character he was playing. 

“Do you… do you have a lot of things you need to plug in?” You asked, voice turning sultry as Vox’s eyes widened. He knew that tone, it was one he was hoping to hear but thought he’d have to work a bit more for. 

“A few things, Miss,” Vox said as he turned to face you. 

You stepped up at him, running your fingers up the stiff shirt sleeve before pointing at the plug in down by the ground. “Right there.” 

“Oh?” Vox rose an eyebrow as he leaned down, bending at his waist and knees to plug the charger cord in. “This will need to charge shortly before I begin the setup process.”

You were closer to him as he stood, soft sweatshirt brushing against the stiff shirt he wore. “Really?” you whispered. “Is there anything else you need to plug in? Perhaps someone else that needs charging?” Vox’s screen glitched, bars flashing for a moment before he was back in control. “Oh, I misspoke- I meant to say, ‘something’.” 

“I do have a plug that needs a receptacle,” Vox hated the line as soon as he said it. It was cheesy and lame, something straight out of one of Valentino’s lower budget pornos.

The lameness of the line didn’t stop the smile that spread over your face or the laugh that bounced around the room. You were delighted with his little game, just as he had hoped you were. It made you happy, and you played along. Vox couldn’t have asked for more. 

“Do you?” you tried to sound sultry, voice struggling to manage it as you giggled. “I may have a receptacle for it.” 

“Is that so?” Vox turned, facing you as he wrapped an arm around your waist. It was a break of character, but he had been wanting to touch you since he had left the apartment days ago. 

“It is,” you nodded syllable, hands resting on his chest. “But I’m not sure if it’s the right receptacle for your plug. Would you be able to take a look and tell me?” 

It was Vox’s turn to laugh at the absurdity of the line before tightening his grip on you, lifting in his arms. “I’ll have to give it a through exam while the laptop charges.” 

“That would be good.” you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, resisting the urge to rest your head against the hard plastic of his case. “If you just help me into my bedroom, you can examine it there.” 

He carried you to your room, setting you on your feet as he reached the bed. His lips hit yours as he dimmed the brightness of his screen. Vox knew you didn’t like the brightness up when he had his face so close to yours. His fingers ran over your skin, reaching under your sweater to lift it up and over your head. 

“We have to hurry,” you whispered as Vox kissed you again. “If we don’t, my boyfriend could get home.” 

“Oh?” Vox asked, fingers pulling the strap of your tank top down your shoulder, urging the neckline down to expose one of your braless breasts to his touch. 

“Oh,” you arched into his touch, “you wouldn’t like that. He’s- he’s a powerful man.” 

“Should I be sacred of him, Miss?” Vox leaned down, running a tingling tongue over your exposed nipple. Claws pushed your shorts down, knowing full well you wore nothing under them. 

“He’s your boss,” you gasped as electric lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth. “But today I- oh, fuck-” you moaned as fingers slipped through your folds. “Today I want the delivery m- man to plug in and charge me up.” 

“I can do that, miss.” Vox said, pushing you onto the bed. 

“Wait,” you said as he went to remove itchy stiff shirt, “Wear it,”

Vox laughed, “You like the uniform?” 

“What girl isn’t a sucker for a man in uniform?” you teased, pulling him to you by the standard issue VoxTek belt made of low quality leather. “And I’m not going to get fucked by the big, bad CEO of VoxTek.” 

“You’re not?” Vox watched, blue light from his screen washing over your hands as one worked his pants open. As your hand gripped his cock through the stiff fabric of his pants, caressing him as he sucked in a shaky breath. 

“Oh no,” you blinked up at him as you worked his cock out of the poor fitting confines of his pants, “my boyfriend is down in the corner office, third floor, working so very hard and surrounded by his shark tanks. He works so hard.” You squeezed his shaft, emphasizing that your boyfriend was indeed working hard at the moment simply to keep his screen from glitching. 

“Big boss leaving his gal all alone?” Vox choked out as you scooted toward the edge of the bed, slipping down to the floor. Big bright eyes looked up at him as you knelt, hands resting on his thighs. 

“He is,” you said, locking your lips, “letting me drain my batteries.” 

Vox couldn’t help the laugh that he barked out, but it died quickly as he was lost in you. It was his intention to tease you, play a game before going back to work. You had flipped the script on him, taking control and now he was the one struggling to keep up.

“But you have a charger for me, don’t you?” 

You wrapped your hand around his shaft, stroking the dark blue length of it. He was always heavy in your hands. Leaning forward, you traced the prominent vein that ran along his length. The thin, velvety skin allowed the bright blue glow of the biomechanical blood flowing through his system to shine through. It provided you an easy roadmap to follow with your tongue. 

“Yes, Miss.” Vox struggled to breathe as you traced your tongue over the head of him, mouth open and hot breath washing over his sensitive skin. He was throwing already, twitching in your hand. “Do you know where to plug it in to-” his screen glitched for a second as your eyes flickered up, watching him as you ran your tongue over his slit, “to plug it in?” 

“Like this?” you asked as you leaned forward, wrapping your lips around his head and sucking him in. Opening your mouth, you fed his cock deeper into the cavern of your mouth before wrapping your lips around him again. It didn’t take long for his shaft to be lubricated enough with your saliva that you could eagerly bob up and down his length. 

You moaned as he hit the back of your throat, taking him as deeply as you could. Each bob of your head had your breasts swaying, the bud of your exposed nipple catching Vox’s eye. 

All things considered, you and Vox had moved slowly in your relationship. Your sexual encounters had all been fairly tame. It wasn’t often you sucked on his cock, let alone with such showmanship and eagerness. Things had been tame, sweet between you. 

Reaching up, you gripped your breast, letting your fingers frame your nipple as you spread your legs. He couldn’t see the folds of your cunt or the way it glistened, but the way you moved your hips, rocking them slightly against nothing but air suggested it. 

You felt him twitch and grow on your tongue. Each bob of your head pulled him closer to his orgasm as he watched your hand make the scandalous run down your body and toward. 

“Fuck,” Vox groaned, fingers itching to dig into the hair at the back of your head and shove your mouth down over his cock, nestle your nose against his base and fuck into your mouth until he reached his finish. That was too rough for you, his darling, but fuck, the way you looked at him when he was so close, then let him fall from your lips made him want to. “Fuck, doll.” 

“I don’t think the plug is working,” you said, licking your lips as you looked up at him. “I don’t think it’s charging me up. Could it be the wrong place to plug in at?” 

“Fuck, babydoll,” Vox’s heart skipped a beat at her commitment to the bit. He wasted no time pulling her to her feet. “I guess we should try putting the plug in a different spot, shouldn’t we?” 

“I think we should,” you said, turning to rest your back against his. Long arms hooked behind his thin neck. The curve of your ass pushed into him, grinding the wet length of his cock. 

“You going to bend over for me?” Vox asked, reaching around to pull the other strap from your shoulder, letting the clingy black tank top fall below your breasts. They were heavy, full and plump in his hands, just the way he linked them. “Bend over so I can plug in?” 

“Yes,” you breathed, bending forward over the edge of your bed. The position put your cunt on display for him. Puffy folds glistened with the wetness that was pouring from your opening. Any other time, Vox would feast on you. He would drink from you like a man starved. 

Instead, he simply lined the head of his cock up with your entrance. He pushed inside, moving slowly as your unpropped opening quivered, slowly spreading to swallow the lightly glowing, bright blue tip of his cock. He would light you up from the inside out. 

“Oh,” you moaned deeply as your body slowly spread over him, “Oh, fuck, Vox- you’re so-” 

“Vox isn’t here, remember?” Vox laughed as he pushed forward, moving deeper and deeper while your body trembled with the stretch of him. “I’m just the delivery guy.” 

“Fuck, so big.” You moaned, the game momentarily lost to you as he nestled the head of his cock against your cervix. Then he pushed deeper, pushing your cervix back as he forced you to take that last half inch of his length while you chanted that he was too big. 

He knew your body would adjust, muscles pulling the canal to be deeper for him as you grew eager to have him inside you. It was just a matter of encouraging your body to shape itself to him. 

“Do you feel it?” Vox asked, grinding his balls against your cunt as he nestled deep inside you. “Feel anything charging up?”

“Fuck,” your elbows struggled to support your weight. He pulled out slowly, letting his cock drag lazily through your folds. “Fuck, I think I do.” 

“I’ll make sure you do,” Vox promised, thrusting hard into her. At first, he kept his pace slow but forceful. Each thrust of his cock sent his hips into your ass with a thump, rocking your body forward against the bed. Large, strong hands wrapped around your waist, claws clicking against eachother under your abdomen as he pulled you back against him to meet each thrust. 

Each thrust came a little faster than the last. Vox listened as your bodies made music together. Gasping moans fell from your lips to mingle with the groans that slipped from his throat. The slapping of his wet balls against your dripping cunt set the beat to the carnal song you were playing together. It was his favorite duet. 

“Fuck, fu-fuck,” you cried out again and again as his hand reached up your chest, using the globe of your breast as an anchor to pull you back against him. “Faster.” 

“Are you charging up?” Vox whispered in your ear as he pulled your back to him. Your feet hardly grazed the ground, body supported by his hands on your torso and the powerful cock thrusting into your sopping cunt with a squelch.

“Yes,” you answered, “Please, fuck. Vox, I’m close.” 

The coil inside you was winding tight. Your legs trembled as they sought anything to brace against, to use as leverage to spread themselves wide and finding nothing. Vox shuffled one foot in front of the other until your knees braced against the bed. It wasn’t doing much to support your weight, but your legs spread wide, knees resting on the bed to hold them open. 

“You wanna cum?” Vox asked, electric tongue running up your neck, leaving a expanding trail of electricity. It ran down your shoulders, static charge dancing over your nipple. Vox watched the blue sparks of electricity dance over the bud, causing your cunt to clench painfully tight around him.

“Please,” you begged, back arching into the electric sensation. Not once had vox used his power on you during your encounters. You knew he could command electricity, often lighting candles with blue sparks or leaving roses made up of dancing static on tables. “Please, Vox- Please, I’m so close.” 

“Not Vox,” Vox answered, hand running down your abdomen. He supported most of your weight with the hand gripping your breast, nipple caught between knuckles. It was painful and yet the pain was far from a distraction from the pleasure Vox’s thick cock gave you as he thrust harshly in and out of you. “Just some delivery boy, fuckin you while your boyfriend works.” 

Reaching down, his clawed finger carefully caressed your clit. Your core squeezed him so tight that each thrust into you was almost painful, skin being pushed back even with the oozing slick around him, running down his balls and dripping onto the stiff pants hanging low around his hips. Your slick gathered in the white starched fabric of the shirt too, turning it soft and translucent in places. 

“Going to cum on the delivery man’s cock?” Vox asked as your body tightened, each breath having to fight its way into your lungs. 

“Yes, yes- please,” 

“Come on then,” Vox moaned, letting static seep from the tips of his fingers and run over the sensitive nub of your clit. “Come on my cock.” 

You did, body shaking in Vox’s arms as you screamed his name. Each wave of convulsions gripped his cock, pulling him deeper than he all but threw you to the bed. In all the times he had made love to you, he had fucked you, never had he felt you cum this hard. 

He braced himself against the mattress, hand still between your legs as he stroked your clit, sending static over the twitching bud, prolonging your orgasm. Tears ran from your eyes and drool smeared from the corner of your lips onto the bedspread as he wildly fucked into your hole.

It took less than a minute for him to reach his own finish, dragged over the edge by your walls, which had yet to still. He had fucked you through one orgasm and right into another, keeping the static stimulation on your clit as you struggled to breathe. 

“Fuck,” Vox roared, voice more garbled and glitched as he fucked into you with bruising force, hand leaving your clit to grip your hip. He used your waist for leverage, pushing you back against him painfully as he fucked his cum deep into you, riding out the waves of his orgasm as yours finally faded. 

Vox fell over you, narrowly avoiding smacking the back of your head with his bezel. Both of you gasped for air, twitching where your bodies remained connected. Cum dribbled out from your hole, Vox’s softening cock not able to continue to keep you plugged. 

“For the record,” Vox said as he pulled your back to his chest, shifting so you both laid on your sides. “I really was only planning on delivering the laptop and spending time with you.” 

“We spent time together,” you said, cunt still twitching violently around his soft cock. “We’re still spending time together.” 

“I’m sorry I’ve been working so much,” Vox braved saying, finding bravery in the post orgasmic bliss and knowing your back was to him. “But I’ve got a chunk of the afternoon off.” 

“I think you just made it up to me,” you laughed lightly, mind still floating on a cloud of endorphins. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” Vox whispered, ignoring the way his neck ached from the angle it was forced to sit at to compensate for the wide screen. “I promise, after this deal, I’ll start taking more time off.” 

You knew he wouldn’t. There would be another deal. Something else. Vox loved his work and while it hurt, you loved that about him. You were an independent woman. You could be on your own while he was busy.

You could make this work. It could work. 

You hoped it would work.

“I love you, Vox.” 

“I love you too, Babydoll.” Vox said, and you almost asked him if he loved you more than VoxTek before deciding you didn’t need to ask. It wasn’t like you didn’t already know the answer, anyway. That was okay, though. You could be second best to the company, couldn’t you? 

You could. 

You loved Vox enough to be his second love.

Right?

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers!

[revoevokukil]

Ciri's Trilogy

Ever since The Witcher 3 was published, concurrently with which I first read A. Sapkowski’s works, I have wanted a trilogy of games about Ciri. Any fanfiction would do, including CDPR’s one. Fanfiction, because I believe Sapkowski wanted to leave Ciri’s future open to the imagination of everyone. It’s part of her charm—she gives hope that anything at all can happen. Hence, in all honesty, I just wanted to continue imagining her story: beyond the end of Lady of the Lake, beyond the end of The Witcher 3. I want to read more about Ciri. Period. Consequently, I am now elated, but also terrified.

I don’t take issue with Ciri, the witcher, I take issue with Ciri having gone through the Trial of the Grasses. I hope CD Projekt Red will change their minds about this, or at very least makes it work differently on Ciri—the Child of Destiny—than on other witchers. For starters because, as Geralt notes in Sword of Destiny, the witchers believe the Child of Destiny would not need the Trials. Ciri is special. She is a mutant carrying the blood of elves, mutated in conjunction with the human genome. Elder Blood, witcher-trained, magic-capable, princess, heir of an Emperor & descendant of another such beyond the stars, prophesised mother to another even more powerful mutant saviour, if not a saviour of elves herself. She is extraordinary; she does what witchers do despite of it all, despite not getting or needing the mutations.

’What can you know about saving the world, silly? You’re but a witcher.’

But now she is just… also one?

The sceptic in me says the only reason they went for Trials for Ciri was to keep it close to how the gameplay holds up. To have a "witcher-eyed", female protagonist upholding their brand. So it could be about potions and signs additionally to what Ciri would have had by default → oils + magic + Elder Blood. I would like for them to give us witcher Ciri, but book-Ciri - a witcher girl setting off after monsters while remaining herself, with her own struggles and unique perspective on the universe. This here feels more like a PR move, and I don’t like it in the grand scheme of things; even while seeing a rough and capable Ciri tickles my heart in a special way. There were other ways to gamify her abilities; they are giving her magic use anyway, after all. It feels a little cheap. In fact, I can see how Elder Blood—Ciri’s uniqueness—is precisely how CDPR can handwave away the Trials, but isn’t the “cosmetic” aspect of it exactly the point? It makes the decision hollow, a ploy, but if you were to give this decision depth then you would run the risk of overstacking your protagonist and forgoing the spirit in which her character was conceived and relates to witchers and the world.[^1]

Moving on. This was the only part that I did not like and, as ever, there are ways of writing yourself out of this. (I dearly hope they have writers who love book Ciri.)

A few years have passed since the end of The Witcher 3 when The Witcher 4 begins. Witcher Ciri wants to be the hero. She has always wanted to do the right thing; she is always picking sides. She is young, she is idealistic, and she is furious. It’s what seems to unite the Ciri in The Witcher 4 with her at the end of The Witcher 3.

"She's almost obsessed with the way she lives. There are some moments where you have to go with your heart instead of always going with the calculated calls. And this is what I love in Ciri. She's less calculating, following her heart, her passion, her gut feel.” - Source

In both the published and draft endings to The Witcher 3, Ciri chooses potentially fatal, self-sacrificial “rituals” for the greater good. She chooses; you, the player, cannot do anything about it. (In the drafts you could, but it turned out to be a bad decision.) In the trailer though, it seems like Ciri is almost running away from herself, or something else, by the way she dives into this life. This intrigues and has storytelling potential - getting what you have always wanted is one of the most dangerous things in the world.

The world and people keep disappointing her, however, and, as the monster used in the trailer not very covertly insinuates: “fate cannot be changed”, "you weren't supposed to come back.” In this sense it almost feels like The Witcher 3 should have been Ciri’s story from the very beginning, because they are revisiting important beats from it and, after only a few years, are likely to handle loose threads. Ciri’s struggle is with having been born to exceptionality, to a destiny larger than life, yet desperately trying to make it smaller for the sake of her soul.

The insinuation made about Ciri’s life through Mioni—the peasant girl offered in sacrifice to a local “God” for the greater good of the community—is not subtle. This is Ciri fighting off the echo of her own story, trying to change such fates in principle. For Mioni, if not for herself. Saving her from being ritually sacrificed—as in prophecies. The monster she faces, by the way, preys on trauma. No subtlety here, whatsoever.

“At first glance, it seems that it is just the flower that is floating on top of the water,” says Kalemba of a cleansing sequence in a bathtub. “But the fun fact is that this is a very Slavic kind of flower. This is a special flower that people in the medieval era were using in special moments to defeat evil. It is very symbolic. Every single frame here is very meaningful.” - Source

But the world and people keep disappointing; Ciri's good deed goes unrewarded, and Mioni dies anyway. Because in principle the Mechanism is set up in a certain way and it is running and it is not easy to grind it to a halt without casualties. How much then is Ciri ready to sacrifice if she is wont to pick a side and fight no matter what? Such questions, I intuit, may become relevant later in her trilogy, but the seeds are sown. Because frankly, in the trailer, Ciri comes off as in The Tower of the Swallow: she has figured out philosophy. It’s a little naive and lacking in experience, seeing the world narrowly, focusing on her truth. It’s very youthful. It’s also—curiously enough—backtracking from the end of The Witcher 3.

What happened in-between The Witcher 3 and The Witcher 4, and, overall, the books and the games? I predict that in Ciri's first solo they may be doing a parallel in the spirit of Lady of the Lake’s ending - Ciri running away from herself/past/failure while attempting to build a new life. It's relatively safe, it's solid. Additionally, in CDPR's original concept for The Witcher 3's "witcher ending," Ciri was meant to experience a profound disillusionment with the witcher's path. After facing the harsh realities of the profession, she would abandon it entirely, choosing instead to traverse the universe in search of ways to atone for running from her destiny—a destiny that demanded she use her extraordinary powers for the greater good of many beings across different realms. It’s possible a double-bottom is hiding in plain sight.

I hope they will explore a truly morally ambiguous Ciri, letting her be messy and problematic rather than simply heroic. I hope they address her past experiences with nuance, not shying away from the ugliness. I hope they let her get drunk in her obsession with the witcher life for a while, break hearts, slowly begin stitching her own back together perhaps. I hope they navigate into the heart of her magic, touch the painful humanity within without forgetting that she has an origin story already, and dare to explore her as Her.

Footnotes

[^1]: I am also sure they go through with the plot where facing the White Frost has locked or seemingly robbed her of her Elder Blood abilities, for better or worse. And since this is going to be a trilogy I will further bet she will get those abilities back as the stakes for her climb higher and higher toward the end game. The other pathway would be that she starts out as having it all, so to speak, and ends up with nothing at all (but we did not see her blink here, I think, so I doubt this); finally "normal." At whatever cost. Narratively in a computer game, for a character who is the Grail, THE person who could do it all, this sort of shuffling makes sense. You can keep the gameplay fresh.

[knife-dad]

Thrifted fashion tips from me, a peer reviewed fashion girlie, and 3rd generation thrift shopper:

Take a look at the tags on your favorite clothes and look for items with a similar fabric blend (I love rayon and linen myself) and don't forget to look at the care instructions! It's good to know what kind of effort you'll have to make to care for vintage clothing before you buy it. I tend to pass on things I know I won't be able to clean properly.

Take a look at the brands as you shop! In this case, it's not about looking for high-end brands, even though those do end up at the thrift on occasion. This is about finding brands you consistently enjoy wearing. For example: I know I tend to like Sag Harbor skirts. They aren't highly sought after by resellers, but they're sought after by me! If I find one, I know it will probably be a regularly used part of my wardrobe and is therefore a good investment.

Don't worry about trends or seeking out high value items. The thrift store is NOT a good place to try and stay on top of microtrends- none of that stuff will hit the thrift until the trend is over anyway. It's also almost never worth it to compete with resellers for the "good" stuff. In my experience, the items that are meant for you will be there if you are patient.

The thrift store is a great place to start when you want to experiment with new styles! You can find something relatively cheap that's outside of your comfort zone without feeling guilty if you have to donate it later. And if you end up really loving a certain style, you'll know what to look for when you shop for new clothes at regular stores. It's also a great way to get familiar with brands from big box stores without paying full price. If you know what you like from the thrift, it makes regular shopping easier.

Basically, shopping at the thrift store is all about looking for hidden potential. Just about anything can be styled in a fun way, if you think outside the box. If you want fun clothes for thrift prices, you're going to have to be willing to spend time on sifting through many things that are not your style in search of what's right for you. You'll need to get creative- it helps to have basic mending and jewelry making skills, so you can confidently adjust things to suit you.

That said, it's important to be considerate of other shoppers: I know thrifting is kind of a trend right now, but there are a lot of families for whom it isn't a trend but a necessity. While you're shopping, try not to shop too far outside your size range. Resizing a fun piece here and there isn't bad, but it's good to make sure you're not taking useful children's and plus sized clothing from the reach of people who need it.

And most important of all, have fun!

[gayestcowboy]

fantasy dildo recs please? im trying to find one that isnt like $100 but is still good and reputable and wont fill my body with microplastics. ive been looking at neotori and they look great but;; the price;;; anyway yeah recs please?

hi! i have a lot of information for you.

first off, my specific recommendations of fantasy toy shops i’ve bought from or know to be reputable: uberrime, wandering bard, twilight meadow creations, strange bedfellas, pleasure forge, pp sculptors, batbites, xenocat artifacts. all of these shops have toys under 100 usd. uberrime especially has a huge selection including non-fantasy, realistic, and dual density. my top 3 fantasy toys right now are TMC’s ambrose (mini), wandering bard’s shadow demon (x small), and uberrime’s ardor dragon (small). highly recommend ambrose to transmascs with bottom growth. also it looks cool as fuck. mine is bright green and yellow.

second, this google doc is a masterpost of fantasy and fantasy-adjacent sex toy companies (created as a list of alternatives to bad dragon) and is organized quite well, and includes some shops to be wary of. it was last updated in 2022 so it’s outdated, but it’s massive and still quite useful. safe fantasy toys dot com also lists body safe toy companies, although you should still check reputability of the company before you buy (some of the companies listed on the site should still be avoided for various reasons— try cross checking with the google doc, browsing reddit, etc). all of the specific companies i recommend in this post use platinum silicone only, but if you go searching for other toys make sure to avoid jelly and other porous materials because they cannot be sanitized properly and will store bacteria. just like with piercing and body jewelry (another one of my special interests lol), it’s always better to pay more for safety when it’s something going inside your body. reputable stores will always list the material, and tend to have pages on their sites with even more specific information on their silicone. shipping also affects the price, especially international shipping.

also, when youre shopping for fantasy toys, make sure you check the sizing. smaller toys are frequently under 100 usd. many fantasy toys tend to be quite large anyways, especially knotted toys (many small knotted toys still have diameters of 2”+ which is usually too large for me personally. for reference i think the average human penis is somewhere around 1.5” diameter.) there’s so much diversity in fantasy toys that you will probably be able to find toys that fit your desired length/girth and are still classified as small and therefore less expensive. if you’re new to fantasy toys or have trouble with insertion (or even just have an average sized vagina/rectum), small fantasy toys can be cost efficient and accessible and more fun than more standard toys. many stores will also sell b-grade toys at a discount for minor cosmetic flaws that don’t affect usage. also, there’s a pretty big market for secondhand toys/dong sales on twitter, reddit, etc so if you’re willing to buy secondhand, that can be more cost efficient. quality silicone toys can be properly sanitized by boiling and other methods. for more cheap options— good glass toys can frequently be under 50 usd, and are easy to sanitize. also, tantus isn’t quite a fantasy brand, but it’s very high quality and has some great toys on the cheaper side (i love the tantus magma). and if you want a really good cheap vibrator, the romp hype is amazing and only 35 usd.

i am by no means an expert, just incredibly autistic, but i hope this helps! i’m always happy to try answering questions about sex toys!

[mxtantrights]

Omg, girl!! Im the one who requested the "enemies" to lovers with Jason Todd one, and GIRL. I loved it. Was better than i was expecting. Please, write part two!( kiss scene? Hehe)Or a whole Bible if you want. Honestly, i only said a "quick" one because i was trying to be polite, didn't want to push or anything lol.

Anyway, thank you for writing my request!!

thank you soo much!! <333 this is a second parter to this post, but it can be read as a stand alone. hope you enjoy it as much as I liked continuing it!!

The kiss happens in two parts. Not to say that you can carefully dissect it into two parts, but that the kiss almost happens once and then it finally does, kind of.

Once when the two of you are on mission. In a slimy dive bar in some redacted location. You've been following your mark all day and ended up here. He's slinging back cheap shots of an off brand liquor as you and Red watch from the roof of the place.

He's been followed all day and hasn't made you once, which is a good thing. Or a bad thing. So you and Red decide to switch it up. There was no need to drag it out any longer. You could confront him and get the info you needed.

That was the plan.

Until the two of you were about to corner your mark. You were waiting on the street and Red was on the other side of it. It was going well until all of a sudden he met up with a familiar face. Falcone. Red pulled off his side of the street quickly and met up with you.

He doesn't say much. He doesn't say anything at all as he takes your arm and drags you around the wall of a store. You have half the mind to question him but you don't. Until he starts taking off the bottom part of his mask.

You try to stop him, but he crowds into your space. He whispers a very clear apology for being too close to you. And then he explains that him being here, would be a dead give away to Falcone. He might blow up whatever plans he has.

Both of you can hear them walking your way. And the only thing you can think of is apologizing to Red before fitting his fcae right into your neck. In the darkness of the night no one can really see his helmet. Or both of your suits.

They walk by without any second thought to the two of you. And you wait about five seconds before telling Red he was okay to pick his head up from your neck.

The drive to he motel was awkward to say the least.

The second time is when you're in the middle of changing in said motel. It's the last night of the mission. You're just about ready to go home to your comfortable bed and front door that has more than one lock.

Red is in a room on this floor. But the two of you haven't run into each other outside of your masks. It's weird. Like weird as in, it probably should have happened by now, but it hasn't. You think to yourself maybe the universe isn't ready to answer that question yet.

With a towel wrapped around your body you're about to start changing into your sleep wear when you hear something odd. A pop coming from outside. Then another one.

You grab your firearm and go over to the door. You look through the peep hole and see nothing. But you know you heard something. So you open the door , just to peek your head out. And at the right time too.

All of a sudden you see a tall man, white streak of hair, coming your way. He's wearing sweatpants and a black muscle tee. Once he makes eye contact with you, he starts running your way. You don't have time to close the door before he's standing in your face begging you to kiss him.

He's out a breath, and he's practically begging at this point. You're not about to kiss a random man. But when you hear the following footsteps you know he is in danger.

So you agree. And this guy apologizes to you in advance as he leans you against your door and cradles the back of your head with his hand. You almost sort of melt into the kiss. Just for a second. only for a second actually.

Because you realize, the way this man just apologized for what he was about to do, is the same way Red apologized to you the other night. And your brain feels like it's on fire because you realize this isn't some random man. This is Red.

This is Red and you know what he looks like. And he definitely knows it you because your'e the same person he saved in the alleyway in Gotham. Coincidences like that don't happen. Especially when you kind of hinted at it with the first word you said to him as a civilian.

🏷️ @12134z03

[makeyoumine69]

Blood Sweat & Tears

— PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: It doesn't matter how far this man can go. You are ready to surrender to his possession because you are his obedient little girl.

— WARNINGS: Period sex, hurt/comfort, blood kink, oral (f), fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, possessive behavior, body worship, hand jobs, marking, teasing, dirty talk, Praise kink, Mild Degradation kink, pet names, dumbification.

— WORDCOUNT: 4k

— A/N: Thank you so much for your patience, I hope you like it! Many thanks for an amazing GIF by @nikolatexla!

— LINKS: [MASTERLIST] 🪓 [support]

It was a busy day at the Bellagio, the most famous and well regarded casino in Las Vegas. Shamelessly, rich people gambled here and there, not caring how much money they would win or lose. The chin-chin of the glasses mingled with the flirtatious laughter of beautiful girls whose short dresses were too seductive and all the guys around couldn't hide their hungry eyes.

Patrick Bateman loved to play roulette, it was his favourite gambling game. With a smug look on his face, he sat near the table, smoking an expensive cigar and holding you possessively by your waist as you rested on his lap.

With a haughty grin, Patrick took a chip and brought it to your lips. "Come on, darling. Blow on it."

"Do you think it will bring you luck?" You asked, a little skeptical, but did what he wanted nonetheless.

"I always feel so lucky when you're around." He winked at you, giving your bum a light pinch that made you giggle in embarrassment. "Let's see what we got."

Although you didn't know the exact denomination of the chips, you were sure that it wasn't cheap, so you  got nervous when the roulette began to spin. Your eyes followed the small ball as it spun around in circles, and when the ball stopped in the red 7 slot, you heard Bateman's happy voice:

"YES, BABY!" He smooched your cheek before clapping his hands and urging you on: "Always bet on red, honey. Always."

"Wow," you smiled at him and took a sip of champagne, when suddenly you felt his big palm cupping your butt. "Hey, gentleman. Watch your hands!"

"Or what?" Patrick chuckled, pulling you closer as he puffed on his cigar. "I'm on a roll today, sweetheart. You know what that means?"

For a moment, you just stared into his hazel, magnetic eyes, and when he noticed your intense gaze, Bateman beckoned you closer so he could blow rings of smoke right against your half-open lips. 

"God, you're so beautiful," Patrick murmured, stroking your chin and tilting your head to the side to admire the view. "My lucky charm."

Oh, Bateman could be such a sweet talker sometimes.

Rolling your eyes, you let him cover your lips with his plush ones, but when his wet tongue began to explore your mouth, you heard someone's irritated voice:

"Hey, young people, this is a casino, not a brothel, maybe you need help getting yourselves a room?"

You and Patrick immediately turned in the direction of the owner of the voice to see an old man smoking a cigar of the same brand as Bateman's. When he noticed this he became even angrier.

With an arrogant grin, Patrick puffed on his cigar and growled through clenched teeth: "Maybe you need help keeping your mouth shut?"

"Patrick!" You tried to calm him down, but he just shook his finger at you before turning back to the stranger.

"I'm enjoying my girl, and you don't have one, maybe that's your fucking problem?" 

"Take it easy, gentlemen." One of the securities warned as he came across your table. "Otherwise I'll have to escort you out."

"You should throw these two idiots out for indecent behaviour!" The old man continued to inflame the conflict, causing Bateman to clench his fists and making you fear that he would crush the man's skull. 

"Patrick, don't!" You lean on his broad shoulders, fumbling with the soft fabric of his pinstriped jacket. "We're leaving soon anyway!"

"You're just an old faggot whose destiny is to jerk off for the rest of your miserable life!" Bateman spat in the old man's face.

The growing tension between them was starting to really concern you, so you pressed a hand to your temple nervously, feeling the vein pulsate under your touch.

"Enough, please!" You didn't give up trying to cool this argument down, but the situation seemed to finally get out of control when the man got up from his seat and rushed towards you. "Patrick, NO!"

Shocked, you saw your beloved  standing in front of you, instinctively trying to cover you as your safety was his number one priority. In the next second, a tall security guard came between Patrick and the old man, shouting:

"HEY! CALM DOWN!"

"YOU LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT!" The stranger yelped and tried to hit Bateman, and that was his biggest mistake, because the next moment Patrick's firm fist slammed into his confused face like in a slow motion film.

Frightened, you hysterically put a hand over your mouth, suddenly becoming hyper aware of your heart pounding painfully against your chest. "Stop! Please!" You repeated over and over, ignoring the sharp pain that coursed through your lower body. Anything you said was useless at this point, so you just gasped and blurted out: "I'm leaving!"

Biting your lower lip nervously, you spun around and made your way through the countless tables towards the exit, trying to ignore the curious eyes that only left you when you finally made it to the hallway.

Only then did you hear Bateman's worried voice as he rushed down the stairs after you:

"(Y/N), baby! WAIT!"

His words made your heart skip a beat, but you kept moving, stifling a sharp gasp. It was only a matter of seconds before he caught you in his strong arms, and no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, you couldn't. So you stopped and looked at him as he gently cupped your face.

"Darling, I'm sorry it turned out like this! But that bastard, he—"

"You could just have ignored him!" You interrupted and tried to move away, but his firm grip didn't allow it.

"He dared to say something when I was just enjoying the night with my lovely girl, how could I just ignore him?" Patrick tried to peck you on the nose, but you turned away. "Oh, come on, don't be like that! What can I do to make up for this little accident?"

"Just take me to the hotel, please," you breathed out and he finally let go of you. "I don't feel well, Patrick."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing serious." You pressed a hand to your stomach, feeling the unpleasant tingling again. "Just a little headache from the stress, you know?"

Bateman sighed deeply, feeling a little sad. It was probably the first time in his life that he actually felt guilty.

Later, you found yourself crying on the large balcony of your shared hotel room, and even the amazing view of Vegas at night didn't help.

Just as you were about to return to the living room, you heard the door slide open and saw Patrick's slightly grumpy face. 

"I've been waiting for you for almost 20 minutes, are you OK?" His sudden question took you by surprise.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine! I was just... I was just admiring the view."

"Aha, and the view is so fascinating that it made you cry?" Bateman stepped closer to you without breaking eye contact. "Don't try to fool me, darling. What happened?"

You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment, but when his warm, large palm touched your cheek to wipe away your shimmering tears, you nuzzled into it, because it was exactly what you needed right now.

"Patrick, you scared me, I was so nervous that..." You hiccupped and swallowed your tears.

"That I was going to kill that guy?" He chuckled a bit strangely.

"WHAT?!" You gave him a confused look. "No! I was afraid he would hurt—"

"You?" He interrupted, caressing the back of your neck to calm down your nerves. "Darling, no one will ever touch you with a finger. I've told you so many times and—"

"Stop! It's not about me! It's about you!"

Patrick narrowed his eyes and frowned a little in confusion. "What do you mean? My behaviour scared you?"

"I was afraid for you, Patrick!" You blurted out, salty tears running down your cheeks again.

A shadow of disbelief crept across his perfect face. "You were afraid for me?" He repeated, chuckling. "'Sweetheart, you—"

"No! Don't say anything!"

"Shhh." Patrick murmured in your ear, stroking your shoulders gently. "It's OK, love. It's okay." His reassuring tone and warm embrace comforted you, but you secretly wished for more. 

"Patrick…" You gasped as he suddenly attacked your neck as if he could read your mind. "Just... don't do that again."

Bateman only whispered some romantic nonsense, his strong hands were already groping your bum, and you instinctively arched your back towards him for closer contact. Possessively, he left a noticeable red mark on your cleavage, and when he heard your obscene moan, Patrick couldn't help but grin and mutter under his breath:

"Mmhm… what a naughty little kitten." A long lick across your cheek and then a sensitive bite on your throat made you squirm, but he held you tight. "I want to fuck you right here."

"Pat!" A muffled whimper escaped your shaky throat as he pressed you against the balcony railing and spread your legs with his knee. "Wait!" 

Only after kissing you hard on the lips did he stopped and allowed you to speak.

"Why? What's wrong?" He asked, giving you his most seductive glance.

"We can't do this," you were a little afraid of his reaction, but you decided to be honest with him, just like he asked you to the other day. "I'm... I'm on my period right now."

You lowered your eyes as you said this, but he immediately lifted your face by the chin and made you look at him. "Baby, I'm absolutely fine with that."

"But..." You tried to protest, feeling a stabbing pain in your lower body. "I don't know if I'm okay with this...

Patrick snickered and traced a finger along your slightly wet cheekbone. "I can ease your pain," he pecked at your temple, then moved down to the sensitive area around your ear and mused. "If you let me. Will you let me take care of you?"

Trembling, you clung to the railing behind you to cope with the rapidity of your heartbeat. "Right here? Are y-you sure? What if someone sees us?"

Amused by your innocence, Bateman shook his head quickly and looked at you from hair to toe. "Then they are lucky to see such beauty like you. Now open your legs for me, sweetheart."

Damn, the power this man had over you was overwhelming. 

Without breaking eye contact, you leaned against the railing and did as he asked, pulling up your black skimpy dress. 

"Fuck, I love it when you're so obedient," Patrick licked his lips briefly as he looked shamelessly at your mound. "I love everything about you, actually."

What a devil. So smug, but insanely hot.

With a sly grin, Bateman knelt beside you, and the next moment you had to stifle a nervous sigh as you felt his plush, warm lips on your leg. Inch by inch he worked his way up to your thigh, looking at you from below, his brown eyes glowing brighter than the Sun itself. Gulping, you tried your best to relax, but when he was about to push your panties aside, you stopped him with a nervous sigh.

"Sorry, I can't!" 

"(Y/N), dear," You could feel how needy he was when he cupped your thigh, nuzzling against it and planting little kisses. "Just let it go. I got you."

Although he allowed you to close your legs, his large palm was still between them, ready to slip under your underwear at any moment.

"Don't you trust me?" His sudden question made you lose orientation in space.

"Yes! Of course I do!" You said without hesitation, running your fingers through his coiffed hair, making it slightly dishevelled. "I just don't feel comfortable with it…" 

You expected him to be angry at your refusal, but instead he just planted a sloppy kiss on your pubic bone. Then he grinned at how cute you sounded when he did things like that.

"What can I do to make you more comfortable?" His slightly pushy tone sent shivers down your spine.

Humming to yourself, you paused for a moment to consider his words, doubting that he would back down from his urge to fuck you. It seemed like not even your periods could stop him.

"Can we do it in the shower…?" You asked and saw his smile widen. "But first, I need some time to myself."

"You can have all the time in the world, darling." Patrick pinched your ass before adding: "But only until I get bored."

You didn't say anything back because you knew it was rather unreal to outsmart him in his own game. Carefully, he stood up and watched you go out from the balcony, and the look he gave you when you decided to turn around was so fucking savage.

In the shower, you closed your eyes from the soothing sensation of the warm streams of water outlining the curves of your beautiful body. Damn, it was so relaxing that you didn't even notice Bateman standing in the doorway, admiring the view and undressing lazily, unable to avert his hungry gaze.

"Mmm, what a view." He sneered in a raspy voice, and you immediately turned around to see him completely naked.

Swallowing hard, you watched his cock bob every time he moved, it was huge and veined, it sent shivers down your spine, it made your inner walls clench around nothing. You found yourself trapped in a cage with a wild beast when he joined you, because now you couldn't run away.

Patrick closed the distance between you a little too quickly, causing a loud wail to escape your mouth. He kissed you roughly, consuming all the little pathetic sounds you made, especially when his sneaky hand slid down your belly to your juicy pussy.

"Mmhm!" You murmured in the kiss as his tongue playfully teased yours, his strong arms were wrapped around you like tight ropes.

"Baby," He exhaled through his inflamed nostrils from how fucking hard he was. "You smell so good."

"I love you." It was all you managed to say, and these three words were enough to make him growl in ecstasy.

And then you had no choice but to claw at your own palm as the sensation of his strong tongue drawing invisible ornaments along your abdomen was too much to bear. Bateman knew it before you even tried to pull away, so he gripped your ass as tightly as he could, forcing you to open up for him. The moment his mouth locked onto your swollen clit, you seemed to stop breathing and lose your ability to speak. Patrick made a guttural sound from the taste of your flavour mixed with your blood, so he continued to suck on your sensitive bud with his eyes closed. 

"Ahhmm, Patty!" You were now literally sprawled against the wall of the shower, your hands desperately sliding along it in search of support.

"Mmmm, I can eat that pussy forever." He said briefly before draping your leg over his broad shoulder for better access to your soaped slit.

For a brief moment Patrick looked longingly into your eyes and stroked your inner thigh before he suddenly thrust his pulsating tongue into your hot, feverish cleft, and that sensation was wholesomely mind-blowing.

"OH MY GOSH! OHH MY G-GOSH!" Your loud scream surely could be heard from outside the hotel room, but you didn't care. "Pat-Patrick!"

The running water drowned out the dirty slurping sounds Bateman was making as he devoured your sweet little pussy, along with his wild growls, which you could barely hear, but they sounded so fucking animalistic. At one point, you found yourself balancing on the edge as his tongue played with your throbbing tip, and it felt almost electric. You grabbed his head and brought it even closer to your pulsating pussy, moaning lewdly.

"Mhmm— yeah, give me more…" He grunted before cooing at you. "Such a needy girl... your voice is so sweet, just like your tight little hole."

You were about to pass out from the sheer overstimulation when he began to lick your cunt more and more fiercely with each second, pumping his thick cock all the while. And not to mention the mind-numbing view when you dared to look down to see his handsome lower face smeared in a little bit of your blood.

"Please, t-this is too much!" You almost screamed, feeling your legs getting weak. "Mmmm— my GOD, I'mma cum, I'mma cummm!"

Patrick chuckled softly before letting the surging lust overtake his mind, and before he even realized, his thin fingers were already inside your clenching pussy, bringing you to one of the most intense orgasms you have ever had, all that while he continued to swirl his tongue around your clit.

"Ahhhh! Patrick— mmhm!" You clung to his shoulder and nearly broke in half from the violent tremors on your body.

"Just like that, darling. Keep showing me how good I make you feel." Bateman mumbled, licking your blood from his lips as his fingers kept stimulating you to prolong your climax. "Good girl!"

Dazed, you almost slipped down the wall, but he caught you and pulled you into a passionate kiss. The metallic taste on your lips made you moan into his mouth, and he used that moment to grab your hand and wrap it around his cock, forcing you to stroke it at a steady pace.

"Feeling better, babe?" He towered over you, his hands resting on the wall on either sides of you.

"Yes..." You closed your eyes because you couldn't bear the way he looked at you; his devilish and slightly mocking grin humiliated you. "Thank you, Patrick."

"Fucking hell. You're so sweet and innocent." Bateman couldn't hold back a laugh, but then he moaned, his dick throbbing in your grasp. "C'mere, honey."

"What are you doing?"

He didn't answer, just lifted you up with ease and opened the shower door. Everything that happened next was so intense that it reminded you of some of your wild dreams that you always kept as a secret from Patrick, but after the events of that night, you would probably tell him about them.

Breathing heavily, you lay on the pile of white towels that Patrick had dropped on the floor to make you more comfortable, as he was going to fuck all the pain out of you. With no hurry, Bateman kneeled down in front of your open legs, then placed them on his shoulders and kissed your ankles.

"I hope you remember that I love you too." He sneered suddenly as he pushed himself inside you. "My little girl... mmm-mine, only mine!"

A slow thrust, then another, but deeper. 

"P-Patrick!" You sobbed as he pulled you up a bit to pound you harder, rolling his toned hips against yours, and it felt so fucking good. "Kiss me! Aww... please, please, p-please!"

Patrick could swear he was about to lose it right now, but he gathered all his will into a fist and tried his best not to cum just from seeing you so vulnerable and ruined beneath him. Damn, you were whimpering so loudly and so pathetically from the way his beefy cock was brushing against your soft inner walls, that he had to hang over you and shush you with his mouth.

"Argh... is this too much for you already?" Bateman looked down at where your bodies were connected — the blood on his cock was driving him crazy, but he couldn't stop mocking you. "Do you want me to stop?"

Fucking bastard!

"N-no! Don't... awwww!" You stammered when he nibbled at your neck, thrusting hard and deep into your dripping womb. "Don't stop!"

"Holy fuck, you're nasty!" He murmured into your ear before tonguing it. 

As soon as Patrick hugged your shoulders and put a hand under your head, you hid your face in the nape of his neck and shrieked as his pounding became faster and sloppier. Your sweaty bodies slapped against each other, filling the bathroom with vicious sounds, and there was nothing left for you to do but wrap your legs around his loin, drowning in an ocean of pleasure every time the tip of his dick hit your cervix.

"A-awwww! Pat...mmm-Patrick!" You whimpered against his bloody lips as he lowered himself to kiss you.

Bateman growled into your mouth when you cupped his toned ass, encouraging him to go deeper, so he settled on his knees to fuck you hard into the floor with his full weight.

"Mmmhm… your pussy is clinging to my dick so greedily! F-fuck!" His hoarse voice only added fuel to the fire, you could feel the pulsing tension in your lower abdomen again.

"Pat..." You stammered as your legs started to shake. "Patrick-mmhm ahhh!"

"What?"

"C-cum… cum inside me..."

Patrick laughed before he gave you several  deep strokes, pressing you closer to his body and enjoying the way you moaned under his massive muscles. "Ask me nicely, baby." 

"P-please!" 

"What are you mumbling?" He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes, while his other hand was buried in your hair.

"I want your c-cream, ahhh… PLEASE! Fill me up until I… I'm so full! I BEG YOU!" You were on the verge of tears, your trembling little form was ready to explode in the next vivid orgasm.

Grinning, Patrick clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Jeez, you're such a slutty girl, begging me to fill your tight hole with my cum... mmhm... today's your lucky day..."

With a low growl, Bateman suddenly pulled out of you and turned you on your side, bending your legs and pressing them together. Feeling dizzy, you didn't even want to look at him, knowing you couldn't bear how fucking savage he looked now, the sight of his huge dick covered in your blood awakening something absolutely primal in him.

"Don't you dare beg for mercy, bitch." He blurted out through his gritted teeth as he thrust into your abused cunt once more.

You had to cover your mouth with one hand as his muscular hips slammed into your fragile frame. Moaning, Patrick pinned you in place, gripping your ass and thigh, and doing his best to make the tension on your cervix unbearable. You bit your finger as you arched your back, convulsing from the multiple waves of pleasure that seemed to pierce through each pitch of your body. Patrick didn't stop drilling into your feverish slit, enjoying how dumb you looked with your eyes rolled back in your head.

"Look at you!" He snarled as his dick throbbed from the overwhelming sensation of your clenching pussy. "S-so fucking overwhelmed, mmhhm!" Bateman paused again, throwing his head back and growling loudly as he finally allowed himself to peak. "Arghhh, FUCK!"

Bateman was absolutely brutal with the way he dug his fingers into your soft skin. Later there would be bruises for sure, but at that moment you couldn't bring yourself to care as the feeling of his warm seed spilling into you became the final drop for your mind to collapse. 

By the time Patrick stopped moving, you were completely numb. When you tried to move, you felt his dense cum flowing down your hips. You didn't even tried to resist when he possessively spread your legs to smeared the mixture of his cream and your blood all over your mound before hanging over you and making you suck on his fingers. Closing your eyes, you moaned at the salty taste and cleaned his digits with your tongue.  No matter how far he could go, you would submit because you trusted him. 

"Good girl." Bateman purred after you finished licking his fingers. He then pressed a soft kiss to your temple. "Why didn't we do this before?"

"Don't even ask." You laughed, looking up at his flushed face.

"I'm not going to leave it like this, darling." He covered your mouth with his, moaning softly at the taste of himself on your lips. "From now on I'm going to have a calendar of your cycle because I enjoyed this too much."

Holly shit.

I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[ceilidho]

I’m so sorry I was rewatching superstore and coworker!Soap has been imprinting into the folds of my brain with a branding iron.

anyways. That one scene where Jonah and Amy have that back and forth with the mannequin except it’s coworker!Soap and reader

Your coworkers have a running joke that the mannequin who’s molded to be a typical ‘handsome man’ looks exactly like Soap. They even stuck his spare name tag on the cheap clothes you can’t imagine would be worth displaying. Even at a store like this. You stupidly point out the joke to him as you’re walking by to distract him from asking you out to dinner for the umpteenth time.

Soap being the absolute freak he is takes it for a challenge and assumes you did it. He also decides to ‘get you back.’ Only…

yeah, he buys a sex doll that looks identical to you. Shows you a picture of it with your uniform and name tag how’d he even get those? Sat on his bed.

when you mention how creepy as hell it is his only response is “Got ye back good, hen.”

I love his creepy ass sm

the idea of Johnny ordering a custom sex doll meant to look like you and then taunting you with it, like bringing it into work just to shove it in your face and then laugh, “gonna have soooo much fun with this lass at home” is going to send me into the stratosphere

[gayfromusa]

Climbing Partners

[ Art from ksk199999 on DeviantArt, story by me ]

Brandon and Jordan (both 21) had been climbing buddies for about three years. Jordan always wanted a higher, tougher climb, and Brandon was always went along. Brandon loved the time he spent with his buddy, but wasn’t always enthusiastic about traveling so frequently to the mountains each summer. While he enjoyed the challenge, sometimes he just wanted to relax in the sun for a week instead of busting his ass climbing as a vacation.

On one sunny summer day at Brandon’s apartment pool during their breaks from college, Jordan asked Brandon about going for another climb.

“Hey man, how do you feel about going for a climb this weekend?”

“That sounds like a great time, but why don’t we just chill by the pool this weekend? I’d love to just hang with you. We can totally go on a climb next weekend though.” Brandon responded.

While his request was very reasonable, Jordan still couldn’t let go of the idea of reaching a new death-defying height and seeing the incredible views. Jordan made his point known to Brandon, “Dude, there’s always more time to relax, we won’t always be able to climb. C’mon, let’s do it dude.”

Just before Brandon could say something, he got a spam on his phone reading, “Buy now! The brand new Size Gun uses atomic energy technology to transform the size of those around you, to any height within the range! Only $50! Get it before the price goes up!” He showed Jordan before he tried to delete it.

“Dude, look at this bullshit!” Brandon laughed.

Jordan smiled, “Imagine if that was real dude, we could both have the weekend we want.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you could relax all day by the pool, and I could be shrunk to make you the size of a mountain. Honestly the view of your apartment complex would be spectacular from a new perspective.”

Brandon started thinking. It was Tuesday, he just got a bonus from last week’s paycheck, and Jordan was absolutely right. He honestly was excited at even the possibility of a real man being the size of a toy in his hand. “You know, what if this thing is legit? There has to be some sort of legal thing preventing them from selling this, so why not try and get my hands on it before they get caught? And honestly it’s so cheap for what it’s offering.”

“There’s no way though, right?”

“I don’t know man, but even if there’s a small chance, I’d bet something for it. Let’s see if this is real.” Right then, Brandon clicked the link and ordered the product. He put priority shipping on it. “It’ll be here Friday. If this thing doesn’t work, then we‘ll spend Saturday climbing and Sunday relaxing, deal?”

“Dude, I’m so in. This could be sick.”

——————

Friday came and a package arrived. Brandon spent the night figuring it out and texted for Jordan to come over the next morning for a surprise.

On Saturday, Jordan knocked on the door of the apartment, and Brandon opened. “Is it real dude?!” Jordan asked with excitement.

“Well come inside and see!”

Jordan walked in and closed the door. Brandon led him to the living room where on the table sat a sci-fi-looking gun of sorts. “How does it even work??”

“Well I tried reading the instructions to find out, but they were in Chinese. Found a YouTube video where they basically said they can’t release how it works due to it being such a new technology. Anyways, it only works on biological matter. It’s not able to make anyone taller than their normal height, unless someone else is shrunk, then the height can be transferred to whoever. The limit on shrinking is currently an inch tall. It’s also supposed to make the person a bit more durable than you expect since it makes them more dense, but the guy said to still be extremely careful if ever handling a shrunken person.”

“One inch seems a bit tiny for climbing you, maybe we could do two inches instead?”

“Yeah sure, but don’t be shocked if you get there later.”

Jordan laughed off that last comment, “Dude I am so excited. I’ve kept on thinking about everything ever since earlier this week. Can we test it out?”

“Yeah man! It connects to my phone, then I have to make a profile for you. I made one for myself already. I’ll input your height and scan you with the gun. I hope you’re chill with it man, you have to be naked for the scan.”

Jordan nodded his head.

“Alright go ahead and strip.”

Jordan blushed slightly while he awkwardly got naked. He heard Brandon say it only shrank biological matter, so he’d be naked when he shrinks anyways. He really did want a climbing challenge, and only brought up this idea as a joke. Now that he is about to actually be able to do this, he started thinking about Brandon’s body. Brandon stood at a good 6’0”, and Jordan at a below average 5’8”. Brandon had impressive muscles, and occasionally Jordan wished he could feel them, but always wanted to respect Brandon and never asked.

But now Jordan was going to feel Brandon’s muscles up close, for maybe even a few hours. Even more pressed in his mind was Brandon’s specific features he might get to climb on. His feet, his pecs, his biceps, and maybe even other parts of his body. Thinking about all this gave Jordan a boner that he didn’t even notice, and he was already in just his underwear.

“You excited for today lil’ buddy?” Brandon smirked.

“I-“ Jordan blushed a bright red.

“Hey dude it’s alright, to be perfectly honest, I haven’t gotten the thought of you as a living toy out of my head”

“Oh, uh.. then let’s do this.” Jordan nervously took off his underwear.

Jordan, fully nude, stood before Brandon. Brandon pointed the gun and a fast burst of light emitted from it. Brandon set it down, while Jordan clothed himself.

“Why are you getting dressed? Your clothes won’t shrink.” Asked Brandon

“I wanna feel them get bigger on me.” Jordan said.

Brandon chuckled a bit, “Fair enough I guess.”

Brandon looked at the app on his phone. Jordan filled his profile for the app. He input his height, weight, sex, his feet size, then left blank the desired height spot for Brandon to fill out.

“I wanna start by just making you just slightly shorter, just to see if it works, how does 5’0” sound to you?”

“I mean 8 inches seems like a lot, but yeah let’s do it!”

Brandon once again pointed the gun, he pressed the trigger and the light flashed. No sounds or anything.

“Did it work?” Asked Jordan.

“I think so.. it’s not supposed to be instant, but shouldn’t take too- oh there ya go.” Brandon noticed Jordan’s eyes shrink down a bit.

Jordan felt a sensation through his body. His previously snug shirt and shorts now a bit loose. “Holy fuck dude it worked!!” Jordan reacted.

“Damn dude, my shorty got even smaller.” Brandon jokingly smiled.

“Dude I wasn’t short before. 5’8” isn’t short.”

“Maybe, but an angry 5’0” sure is cute.” Brandon began to laugh a little bit started messing with his friend’s hair.

Jordan’s face got a bit red again, then he pushed Brandon’s hand off his head.

Brandon didn’t say anything, just smirked and started inputting stuff into the app again.

“Hey! What are you doing now?”

Brandon pointed the gun and fired the silent blast again. “Made you small enough so you can’t fight back.” Brandon smiled.

Before Jordan could do something, he felt the sensation and this time got a bit dizzy. He fell back a bit, then his shorts fell down his legs and he tripped on them “What the- how big am I now?” Sitting with his butt on the ground, Jordan looked up and saw a staggering figure. His friend seemed more than twice the size of a normal human. He began to cower a bit as Brandon’s hands reached down.

Brandon laughed at Jordan’s choice of words as he crouched down and helped the little guy up. “You’re 2 feet small now.” Brandon laughed once Jordan was on his feet, seeing the huge oversized shirt on his friend was hilarious. He snapped a picture then removed the shirt from Jordan. “There you are again! All your glory. Still excited I see.” Brandon poked Jordan’s dick, Jordan tried to fight Brandon’s hand again but ended up pushing himself back more than doing anything to stop Brandon.

“I- I’m so sorry Brandon,” Jordan tried his best to cover the hard-on, “This is all so new to me, and seeing you so huge is kinda turning me on. We can stop if you want to, I don’t wanna do anything you’re not okay with.”

“Well I saw your hard dick earlier too bud, I kinda figured this was turning you on. Now that you’re tiny I can say that this is also really hot to me. I’m not gonna stop, no matter what you’re going down to two inches.” Brandon said with a hint of seriousness that hadn’t been there before.

Jordan was shocked. Brandon was speaking with such authority over him. He felt like a child, any sense of control was lost in that tone. A fear set in, he was at the mercy of this man. There was nothing he could do to stop his friend if he wanted to. Thankfully he didn’t want to.

Brandon shot the gun at Jordan one final time, then Jordan passed out.

——————

After what seemed like hours, Jordan woke up. He was outside, laying on a cloth surface of some sort. It was hot outside, around 80 degrees Fahrenheit, so still pretty bearable.

Jordan sat up and looked around. He was on a humungous beach towel that was flat on the ground. He looked up and saw Brandon laying back on a pool chair in just his swimsuit. He was sound asleep with his hands behind his head, feet on the ground touching the opposite end of the towel.

Jordan grew excited, it was time to climb his friend. The moment he’d been waiting for. He began to run to Brandon’s right foot, realizing the distance, he slowed to a better pace.

Jordan had never in his life imagined a foot this massive. Size 13 was big, but it had never seemed this big. Still, once Jordan reached the foot he realized he could at least climb onto the foot with relative ease. The smell was prominent, but Jordan didn’t think it smelled bad by any means.

He paused though, and decided to explore the foot a bit before venturing upwards. Starting with the pinky toe, Jordan compared his own body to it, roughy half his size. He was amazed at the size. Moving to each bigger toe, Jordan found the sizes so hot. Reaching the big toe, he laid down next to it for a moment. It was bigger than he was. He stood up and bent over onto the toe and spread his arms, feeling the massive toenail. He then went to the side of the foot, and positioned himself under Brandon’s arch, nuzzling into the soft skin a bit, and noticed that Brandon was a bit sweaty already, just from laying in the heat. Jordan didn’t want to leave, but he decided to keep going before the sweat got too much worse.

Jordan got up and walked back to the pinky toe to climb onto the foot, and crawled his way towards the leg hair. The hairs didn’t contain a lot of traction, so Jordan had to sort of wrap one around his hand and pull himself up little by little. Getting past the knee, Brandon’s thigh was much easier due to the less harsh angle. It was still tough, but not as difficult.

He then reached the next challenge of his journey, Brandon’s swim shorts. They were made of a waterproof material without a lot of traction for the tiny man to grab onto, so Jordan decided to crawl under the shorts. What was one more detour? The man was seemingly sound asleep, and seemed pretty comfortable with Jordan’s hard-on earlier, so why not stop by and see Brandon’s beast for a moment?

Jordan slipped under the shorts and made his way towards it in the darkness. Before that, there was a sort of net/mesh barrier he needed to get through. Managing to push it up and squeeze underneath, he was safe from falling because of the barrier. The overwhelming musky scent of Brandon’s cock began to hit, it put Jordan into a horny state of mind. Climbing over just a bit more, he bumped into the semi-hard anaconda. Pausing for a moment to reflect on what he was doing, he continued. Jordan began to nuzzle up against it, and attempted to reach his arms around, but was far too small to reach around the girth. Still he tried to squeeze. It began to grow a bit harder from the sensation he was giving it, that’s when Jordan backed off and decided to keep going.

Climbing upwards a bit more another issue arose, the elastic band around the swim shorts were skin tight to Brandon’s waste. He went in arms and head first and tried to army crawl under the obstacle. It took a few minutes but eventually he crawled up the other side, revealing a glorious landscape Jordan rarely got to see; Brandon’s beautifully toned and tanned abs.

He paused to catch his breath, and at the same time turned around. Jordan saw the whole apartment complex’s pool space. Given it was a nice weekend day in the middle of summer, there was actually quite a few people. Some families, a lifeguard, and even some pretty big guys, all enjoying the pool and the sun. Thankfully Brandon picked a spot away from most people which wasn’t by the edge of the pool. He was the only person in this corner. Seeing all the ginormous people going about their day, not realizing a tiny person was climbing the man tanning in the corner, was intriguing.

Jordan wondered to himself if Brandon was going to grow him back after this. The way Brandon seemed so eager to have power over him made him wonder if he should climb down now and try and find someone who would certainly help him get back. Then Jordan realized, these people might not see him, they could crush him and just think he was a bug. But even if he found someone who wanted to help, Jordan couldn’t grow back without the mass stored in Brandon’s machine, and without Brandon’s app. Brandon had all the power, even if Jordan was in someone else’s hands.

He turned back to the giant he was climbing and accepted his fate, feeling someone content. Brandon would certainly grow him back, he beat himself up mentally for considering that Brandon didn’t have his best interest in mind. After all, Jordan asked for this. Besides, Brandon’s abs were hot. Jordan climbed up a bit onto his friend’s belly and laid there for a moment. Spreading himself and feeling the muscles. He then got up and kept going.

Knowing his end goal was the top of Brandon’s head, Jordan realized he could never climb straight up Brandon’s neck, he’d have to climb onto his biceps and forearm to reach Brandon’s head. But now Jordan felt he needed to hurry, if Brandon woke up, Jordan would certainly fall flat onto the concrete below.

But Jordan couldn’t help himself when he reached Brandon’s pecs, again he laid down for a moment then spread himself out between them. His mind going back and forth, Jordan got up and kept going. Finally being able to stand when reaching the collar bone, Jordan moved pretty quickly towards the bicep. He laid against the muscle for a moment, feeling it with his arms spread yet again, and then his footing slipped.

Jordan fell what felt like almost ten feet, but was actually just down to Brandon’s rank armpits. Definitely no deodorant used today, not that Jordan was complaining. He had caught himself using the armpit hairs. And used the same strategy from before, and began to wrap his hands around the hairs to secure himself and climb up. He made his way up and this time didn’t fondle with Brandon’s ginormous arms this time, and instead kept climbing.

Using the last bit of his strength, Jordan finally reached the end. And laid on top of Brandon’s head in relief. Immediately, Brandon’s massive hand made a move to scoop Jordan. The hand enclosed around him and Jordan could barely move. He struggled for a bit but gave up upon realizing Brandon was up and walking, likely back to the apartment.

——————

Brandon opened his hand and placed Jordan on the desk in his room. Jordan collected his composure to the best of his ability and stood up and watched Brandon.

Brandon walked around the room a bit, picked up an old pair of socks off the floor and placed them in the laundry. He then took off his swimsuit, this time turned around revealing his muscles butt to Jordan. He threw the swimsuit into the laundry then turned and went to stand at the end of the desk. Jordan while on the desk was eye level with the head of Brandon’s dangling cock. His dick now appeared much more massive when it was freed from its mesh cage.

Jordan stared at the dick in front of his face for a moment, then began to lean his head back to look up at Brandon. Brandon was looking down at him with a pondering look in his eyes.

“Just so you know, I was awake the whole time.” Brandon stated.

“So you almost let me fall off your bicep??” Jordan seemed shocked. Why wouldn’t Brandon save his friend?

Brandon replied, “You caught yourself, I almost flinched, but I’ve seen your reflexes before and knew you could handle it. But regardless, do you remember the other parts of the journey?”

“The uh- oh, um..”

“It seems you rather enjoyed my feet, my abs, my pecs, my biceps, and not to mention my eight inch cock. I’m glad you took a fascination to me.”

“Wait, why are we in your room? Are you going to grow me back?”

“Not today. We said the weekend, remember? I want to play with you since you got to play with me.”

“Brandon, I-“ Jordan was shocked. He was reminded of his powerlessness from Brandon’s tone of voice. He had never seen this side of Brandon before today, and felt completely helpless to do anything besides comply. His dick got hard again.

“Jordan you are enjoying this more than I am, let me have some fun, okay?” Brandon left the room for a moment and returned with the gun, “To be honest, I wish I could make you smaller than an inch, but it’ll have to do.” The light flashed and Jordan felt himself dwindle down even tinier.

Brandon picked up Jordan with a hand that now felt twice the size. Brandon sat down on the carpet of the room and opened his hand and smiled.

“You are so cute, I’m so glad we did this.” Brandon said with a bit of a smile.

Jordan felt uneasy and turned on at the same time. He didn’t want to be like this tiny all weekend, but that thought started to fade when Brandon set him down. He tried to figure out where for a moment, but then realized he was laying between Brandon’s feet that were placed together. Brandon winked at Jordan then closed his feet softly.

Jordan could opened his mouth a bit and could taste the sweat from the gargantuan feet. Brandon slowly rubbed his feet back and forth a little bit, which caused such a pleasurable sensation for Jordan that he began to moan. Brandon heard the moans and stopped, picking out Jordan from his feet and bringing him over to his armpit.

“You know, I probably could have saved you now that I think about it, my armpit is pretty soft and could have protected you pretty well. Hope you enjoy bud.” Brandon said with a smirk.

Jordan was placed in Brandon’s pit once again, this time when Jordan grabbed the hair from the pit, Brandon closed his arm shut. The smell was ten times more potent, and the feeling of being enclosed under such a monstrous bicep was magnificent. The heat, sweat, and pressure only added to the experience. He had never felt more comfort, safety, vulnerability, and helplessness all at once. It was wonderful.

Jordan expected this to only last a minute or so, but instead it went on for ten or fifteen as Brandon walked around with Jordan before he could finally breathe normally again. He was plucked out of the pit, now smelling like it from the sweat, and held in front of Brandon again.

“I hope you enjoyed, I think I felt you ejaculate almost as soon as I closed my arm, but you’re still hard. Guess you wanna keep going.”

Brandon then brought his hand with Jordan in it down to the his dick. Without hesitation, Brandon grabbed his cock with the hand he was holding Jordan in, and began to masturbate. The cock was fully erect already, and Brandon slowly moved his hand up and down with Jordan being used as a sex toy.

Brandon then stopped for a moment to set Jordan down onto the desk once more, before continuing to masturbate at an increased speed and harder grip. Jordan sat watching the event transpire, only realizing a second before the climax what was about to happen as Brandon came all over Jordan’s helpless body, knocking him down. Brandon moaned as he released the cum.

He grabbed Jordan and brought him up to his mouth where he licked off the cum from Jordan’s back, then his front. The mouth and tongue were so huge to Jordan, and he could hardly process what was happened as he was receiving a sensory overload. When the second lick happened, Jordan came again.

Jordan was set on the desk once more as Brandon sat down in his chair and looked at Jordan. Brandon was smiling and had a look of glee in his eyes, “That was amazing, thank you for coming up with the idea for this weekend. I’m so glad I have you.”