#donate your spare phones

[onbreakreadlastpost]

Change a life in Africa by donating a phone today.

Help rural African communities by donating a phone and giving them access to education, finance, and markets.

If you have any old or spare phones you aren't using or don't need, consider donating them! It's a good way to prevent e-waste as well!

[mide404]

Greetings,

A life lost and dreams destroyed, a smile gone forever, and a joy shattered and torn apart by war. My family has become immobilized, helpless, with no options or means. Here, where war has imposed its burdens on what's left of my family, we are forced to live what we cannot bear to live and endure what we cannot possibly endure. We are living torments harsher than the harshest prison tortures, crying over the thresholds of our far, destroyed home, our paradise that slipped through our fingers, the dearest thing stolen from us by this war.

Here, my little sister describes her suffering living in displacement camps, and this is what Alaa told me during a phone call:

"We have become nothing, without a home, without shelter. I live in a cramped space surrounded by nylon that doesn’t protect you from the summer heat or the winter cold, doesn’t provide privacy. Here, where there’s no privacy at all, you don’t have the basics of life even for an animal, so how can humans live here? Imagine, the details are painful, crushing. There is no space to sit or sleep, no room for rest or deep breath. Life here is impossible by all measures. We are now living the impossible, forced, with no one to look at us with compassion or mercy, no one to support us, as if everyone united to torment and oppress us.

Streets you've never seen, know nothing about, in a place you only knew by name. It's as if the earth isn’t the same earth, nor the sea the same sea, nor even the air the same air. It feels like you can't breathe here, like a fish taken out of water, not dead but the water is far away, struggling with its soul, unable to escape. You walk like a lost person who doesn’t know their destiny in a maze, not knowing its beginning or end, thrown in the middle without a word, no hand extended, no cries heard.

I can't describe what we are living through, even the pictures didn't move anything, as if everyone is in a coma, no one sees, hears, or speaks. Death has become our greatest wish, and daily we pray for God to take us to His side and spare us from the cruelty of His servants. Is there a way out for us? 😔💔 I don’t know."

Please donate if you can and share our story widely as you're able to🙏🙏

[destroyingangelneveragod]

Do You Have 5 Dollars to Spare Today, and Have You Donated?

LAYLA'S FAMILY IS IN SEVERE NEED OF SUPPORT.

Layla reached out to me to ask to make a post because her campaign needs donations badly. She is 7 months pregnant but doesnt have enough food to eat, putting her pregnancy at risk. She also has no money for clothes for her baby, and no money to get all of her family food, her daughter diapers, etc. On top of that, she is homeless and her phone is damaged. Please help her and her family if yoy can. She has been vetted by association by my dear friend @bilal-salah0 ❤

Vetted by @bilal-salah0

The Campaign is Linked Below. Please tag of you donate to encourage friends to, and schedule this post a few times in your queue.

[paper-mario-wiki]

Blankets prices are high In tents My child + my wife + my mother + my sister and her three children, and I think the cost is also high I buy something every now and then But I cannot juggle between buying food, buying clothes, buying medicines and blankets You understand what I mean now. Blankets cost at least $80 if available in the market. Regular quality

Post anything that helps you donate. You are more knowledgeable This is the last donation I received

Blankets costing $80.

You must understand everyone, this is why you are receiving so many messages from Palestinians. Mohammed is one of so many people who are freezing right now while the imperialist colonialists haphazardly dropping bombs to cause as much destruction as possible.

If possible, please consider donating and sharing. There are days that go by without interaction, and it can become very easy to sit in their tent, refreshing their phone, desperately waiting for the next person who can spare $5.

Any amount, no matter how small, means something big. Please don't forget that.

[jmtorres]

doomscrolling is not activism

doomscrolling is not activism

doomscrolling is not activism

"don't look away" is a meaningless phrase. who are you benefiting by inundating yourself with misery porn?

DO something about things you care about. Go to a protest for something you believe in, if you can. Donate money to a cause if you have it to spare. Volunteer your time to help people if you have the energy. Write a letter to your political representatives if that's something you can do. These are meaningful ways to try to make change in the world.

And then? don't feel bad about insulating yourself from horrible news. Don't make yourself look at images that make you feel sick. Don't read endless things that depress you. Because frankly it gets harder to actually do the more you doomscroll. Reading constantly about things you can't change because they're happening at a systemic level or on the other side of the world is paralyzing. It makes you less able to help where you can.

I'm not saying be willfully ignorant. I'm not saying pretend horrible things aren't happening. I'm saying don't destroy your mental health going in-depth and cycling through horror after horror on your phone. I'm saying there is no virtue in making yourself experience other people's traumas because mere awareness is not activism. you inflicting suffering on yourself is not activism.

doomscrolling is literally sapping your energy and focus away from doing anything useful to help other people. you can burn yourself out without ever lifting a finger by exposing yourself to all the bad news in the world and who does that help? no one.

[sweetreveriee]

WILDFIRE AID RESOURCES MASTERLIST

these are all the places ive found helping those affected by the la fires. please stay safe everyone <3

______________________

FREE THINGS:

Planet Fitness Offers Free Things (ends January 15)

Form To Get Free Temporary Housing From AirBnB (space limited, eligibility criteria required)

List of Restaurants Offering Free Meals (updated January 9)

______________________

UPDATED MAPS:

CalFire

Watch Duty

______________________

INFORMATION:

List of Updated Info

Spreadsheet of Resources (by location and type of aid)

If you have anything to add to the list linked above, comment here

______________________

SHELTER:

If you need shelter, text "SHELTER" and your zip code to 43362 for nearest open shelters

open shelters:

Arcadia Community Center – 375 Campus Drive, Arcadia, CA 91007

Ritchie Valens Recreation Center – 10736 Laurel Canyon Blvd., Pacoima, CA 91331

Pan Pacific Recreational Center – 7600 Beverly Blvd., Los Angeles, CA 90036

Westwood Recreation Center – 1350 Sepulveda Blvd., Los Angeles, CA 90025

El Camino Real Charter High School – 5440 Valley Circle Blvd, Woodland Hills, CA 91367

Pasadena Civic Center – 300 East Green Street, Pasadena, CA 91101

Pomona Fairplex – 1101 W McKinley Ave, Pomona, CA 91768

YMCA of Metropolitan Los Angeles - locations unaffected by fire are open and providing free childcare to those who need it. also offering evacuation sites, temporary shelter, basic amenities, and showers.

for updates and locations click here

______________________

TRANSPORTATION:

CalTrans Updated Road Closure List

Fare collection suspended at Metro through January 9. A list of updates and changes that occurred because of the fires and winds can be found here.

Lyft is offering two free rides of 25$ each (50$ total) for 500 riders using code CAFIRERELIEF25. offer ends January 15.

Uber is offering a free ride of up to 40$ for those who use code WILFIRE25 in the wallet section of the app

______________________

ANIMAL CARE:

List of Shelters (check capacity and availability)

______________________

MENTAL HEALTH:

LA County set up a 24/7 hotline to help with anxiety, distress, and grief. Call (800) 854-7771.

______________________

WHAT TO PACK:

remember the six p's:

people and pets

papers, phone numbers and important documents

prescriptions, vitamins, and eyeglasses

pictures and irreplaceable memorabilia

personal computer, hard drive, and disks

plastic (debit, credit, ATM cards) and cash

what to put in your "go bag":

face masks/face coverings

three-day food supply (nonperishable)

three gallons of bottled water per person

map marked with AT LEAST two evacuation routes

basic first aid and medical supplies

sanitation supplies

toothbrushes, toothpaste, hair brush, deodorant

period products

prescriptions and medications

a change of clothes (bring AT LEAST one warm coat)

spare eyeglasses or contacts (if needed)

extra set of car keys

chargers for your devices

cash, credit/debit cards, traveler's checks

flashlight

battery powered radio

EXTRA BATTERIES

(copies of) important documents such as birth certificates, passports, insurance, a list of emergency contacts and phone numbers

your wallet (ID CARD)

food, water, and meds for your pets (checklist here)

a can opener

not necessary but you might want to bring:

valuable items that can be easily carried

family pictures that cannot be replaced

blankets

more than a day's worth of clothes

important school supplies (for students)

books

trophies, medals, certificates, awards

pens and paper

self defense tools (pepper spray, pocket knives, etc) (NOT ENCOURAGING VIOLENCE. FOR SELF DEFENSE ONLY)

extra shoes

fuzzy socks

non-essential hygiene products

gum/breath mints

ALWAYS PREPARE BEFOREHAND. EVEN IF YOU ARE NOT DIRECTLY IMPACTED, THE FIRES CAN GROW. KEEP YOUR BAGS IN THE CAR SO YOU CAN EVACUATE QUICKLY IF NEEDED.

______________________

WANT TO HELP?

Best Friends Animal Society

LA Fire Department (donations sent directly to first responders)

LA Food Bank

LA Works

MusiCares

Salvation Army

Santa D'Or (in need of fosters for displaced cats)

Silverlake Lounge (also offering a communal gathering place)

Sweet Relief Musicians Fund

Dream Center (in need of volunteers + non-perishable food items)

The Red Cross

We Are Moving the Needle

World Central Kitchen

United Way of Greater LA

As of January 9, the Westwood Recreation Center and Pan Pacific Park are at full capacity and not accepting additional donations. Check with all organizations by phone, text, or email before donating if possible.

______________________

IF THERE'S ANYTHING I MISSED OR MESSED UP PLEASE ADD IT OR LET ME KNOW SO I CAN FIX IT. REBLOG TO SPREAD AWARENESS!!!!!!!! stay safe everyone

[eyadkhalil]

My name is Iyad Khalil, a 24-year-old Palestinian from Gaza. My life has been a constant struggle, marked by harsh conditions beyond imagination. Born into a poor family, I was the eldest of my siblings, which forced me to leave school at an early age to help my father provide for our family.

Our family consisted of eight members: my father, my mother, my brothers—Mohammed (22 years old), who suffers from paralysis, Ahmed (20 years old), and Mahmoud (15 years old)—and my sisters, Hiba (18 years old), who is deaf but excels academically at a national level, Batool (12 years old), and Farah (7 years old). We lived in a small house with my grandparents. We barely managed to survive, but being together was all that mattered.

In October 2023, our lives changed forever. During that dark month, Israel launched an unprecedented campaign of genocide against Gaza. It was not a war—it was a massacre targeting children, women, and the elderly without mercy. On October 7, an airstrike hit our home, taking the lives of my father and my brother Ahmed. Our house was reduced to rubble, and my family was torn apart.

The only ones left were my mother and my remaining siblings, who were forced to flee northern Gaza under a hail of bullets and relentless bombing. They carried their grief and fear while walking through roads littered with the bodies of martyrs. I stayed in contact with them over the phone, hearing their trembling voices as they told me, “We are running from death only to face death again.” I felt utterly powerless, far away from them in a foreign land, unable to protect them. My mother walked through this hell with my sick siblings, trying to mask her fear to reassure them, but the pain in her voice shattered me.

They moved from one place to another, only to end up in makeshift tents in southern Gaza, in the Mawasi area of Khan Younis. They now sleep on the ground and use the sky as their only shelter, on the shores of Gaza’s sea. But even the tents were not spared from the bombardment. Last night, airstrikes targeted and burned the tents. My mother and siblings were injured in the attack. My sister Hiba, who is deaf, and my brother Mohammed, who is paralyzed, are now in critical condition. Heavy rain pours down relentlessly, flooding the torn tents, as my mother sits under the rain, desperately trying to shield her children from the cold. Meanwhile, I am here, far away, helpless to do anything.

My mother tells me that my younger siblings shiver from the cold and hunger, with nothing to sustain them or warm their fragile bodies. My 12-year-old sister Batool sits beside my brother Mohammed, trying to comfort him, while seven-year-old Farah cries in fear and hunger. This scene plays vividly in my mind, breaking my heart as I imagine their suffering and my inability to help them.

October 2023 was not just a month; it was a testament to the genocide against my people. Thousands of families were bombed, thousands of lives lost, and thousands more are now enduring hell—under rubble or in burned-out tents. My family is one of those families, and my innocent siblings are victims of this unimaginable nightmare.

Mohammed’s and Hiba’s conditions are deteriorating rapidly. Urgent action must be taken immediately to save their lives. They need urgent medical care, and delaying it will only cost us their lives.

I appeal to your kind hearts: please, help me save my family. My sister Hiba requires immediate medical attention, and my brother Mohammed needs continuous care. My mother and siblings desperately need a safe place, far from this inferno.

Do not leave us to face this fate alone. Every donation can provide us with a chance to live, a chance to save lives that dream only of living with dignity.

Please, be the hope we no longer have.

Attached are medical reports documenting their critical health conditions. Kindly take the time to review them.

Iyad Khalil,

[chrissv4mp]

october 27

"please, bi—billie..! so.. mmh, gonna cum." you murmur, trembling beneath her relentless touch as your head falls back against her shoulder, moans shaky and falling right into her ear. billie just giggles softly, eyes darting to her phone that was the only source of light in the room. she left a wet kiss on the side of your neck, tongue drawing a stripe up to your jaw before she gave the livestream her full attention, your pretty pussy being the only thing they could see right now. she watched as her own fingers pumped in and out of your wet cunt, thumb rubbing tight circles on your swollen bud.

the comments flood in rapidly, multiple donations of large amounts of money coming in every other second with all different types of messages. they were going by too fast for either of you to read them, though. until a larger donation came in and stayed on the top right for longer than the rest. billie's free hand came up to tilt your head forward, letting you see the own donation for yourself, "melissa t. sent $300 to keep edgin' you, mama." she snickered, but your stomach only dropped, a low whine emitting from your throat as you bucked your hips, shaking your head.

her hand left your chin, instead going to grab the phone and move it right in front of your face, tears streaking down your cheeks, lips pouty and stray hairs sticking to your sweaty forehead and neck. your whole body trembled as you struggled to read the donations through teary eyes, a relieved breath leaving your lips as a $400 donation came in just to see you cum. billie's eyebrows raised in surprise, a short gasp coming from her part as she spared you a glance, "really wan' her to cum, don't you guys?" she asks rhetorically, biting her lip as her fingers quicken their pace.

the comments only come in quicker, small donations being unnoticed in the huge sea of larger amounts of money. another donation came in, probably twice the amount that was just sent in, "$850 sent in by—holy shit." she stumbles over her words upon seeing the name, eyes widening and hear fluttering, "by none other than madison b... to make you cum." she whispers, her smile only growing at the new knowledge that madison, one of your closest friends, was watching this. billie's eyes snap back to you, fingers moving faster and deeper in your needy cunt, "even mads is watchin', babygirl."

"please mommy, please!" you cry out, slurring your words as you buck your hips against her fast-moving fingers, her phone catching the way your eyes roll back as you bite your lip harshly. your back arches away from her body, her fingers curling against your sweet spot and almost making you cum without a proper thank you. her fingers halt to a stop, setting the phone back down and zooming out so your viewers could see both of your bodies and faces, "where's your manners, mama?" her fingers tap against your abdomen, making your body shake momentarily as you beg quietly.

you fist at both her shirt and the sheets, head hanging low and eyes barely staying open as you try to look into the phone camera, body shaking weakly as you finally utter those two words that would grant you euphoria, "th—'ank you, mm.." your words are quiet, and you're sure the phone speaker barely picks it up, but billie takes it anyway. her fingers slam into your pussy at an almost animalistic pace, thumb circling your clit faster as her eyes carefully examined your facial expressions and your body language.

her eyes take one last glance at her phone, an evil smile taking over her once sweet face as her fingers slow to a stop inside of you. your thighs tremble around her torturous hand, crying out loudly as you throw your head back against her shoulder for the millionth time that night. she'd been edging you non-stop for the past hour and a half, and all because of the stupid fucking donations, "finneas o. sent in $1000 to keep edging you," she ponders for a moment, head turning back to you with a mischievous smirk on her face, "our friends love you, sweet girl." she giggles and shrugs her shoulders, and by the look on her face, you know damn well things won't go your way tonight.

KINKTOBER

@mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livialifesblog @devynscomet @her-favorite @cannibalsclass @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @hrtsdollie @zayluvss @xoluvx

[plasticfangtastic]

Dairy Girl

A Homelander X F! Reader fanfic

A/N: I am still working on my other projects but I just wanted to write something fun and light to get me back into writing. I hope y'all enjoy this short little piece, btw i aint got no kids so i have very little idea how milk banks work, this will be a 2 or 3 part story.

Synopsis: In order to provide a constant supply of fresh breastmilk for Vought’s number one hero, Vought has had to get quite nifty in order to prevent this secret desire out the press and the public– you have unfortunately discovered the truth.

Tags: Stockholm Syndrome, abusive dynamic, Homelander being Homelander, dub-con, dark, mild smut, breastfeeding kink, kidnapping, child-death mention tw, cheating tw, set in s4 but canon nothing, slow burn.

Word Count: 3K

Part 1– Heifer

Such a small box, smaller than a shoe box, just big enough to fit its contents with enough space for his ghost to move. You stared at the small box as its buried in the family plot… you never thought of visiting this place to ever bury the last shred of happiness you had left, his body was born weak, so small you wonder if you’d given birth to a child or a chick, 2 months ago you had come home to find your now ex in bed with his ex, he had turned this betrayal on its head and blamed you for it, something about your lack of desire lately, about how your pregnancy had given him amounts of pressures he'd never agreed with, talking endlessly about his needs and how much you’d ignored him.

Whoever this man was, you didn’t recognize him.

Time blurred into nothing but disconnected colors and shapes, all you know was that the stress and anguish lead to this.

A box under soil.

Days passed and in your empty apartment, surrounded by all the stuff you bought you stood in front of the sink, throwing a bottle of fresh milk down the drain feeling tremendous guilt, the doctor said you would dry out soon enough but your breast had swollen so much your bras no longer fit– even the spare ones you bought just in case they’ve grown a size too big from what you expected, you booked an appointment with your doctor hoping they could give you whatever cocktail of drugs to dry you out and save you from the pressure and pain in your chest, it had been nothing but a passing message from a worried neighbor who had stop by to give you some mail that had been sent to them by accident when she mentioned her daughter-in-law had donated her excess milk after her little one refused to latch, she gave you the name of the charity and after much thinking you gave in, you lost your baby but there was some woman out there who could end up experiencing your same grief if their baby starved to death, yours simply born too small and weak to hold your finger for very long.

It felt good, you met the women running the charity and even some of the faces of the women you helped, as you delivered your frozen packs to the women’s clinic where the charity operated, it helped you heal, it gave your pain purpose, but as the months faded behind you a part of you worried about how much you keep producing, less than before but still too much, yet you keep going knowing it would end soon enough. 

Perhaps somebody in the clinic or the charity had dropped your information to these people but you'd received some mail regarding some research trials Vought International was running and how they needed some donors to drop fresh samples, in their pamphlet they offered to pay a decent amount--your divorce had been costly plus having to move to a new place and breaking your previous lease had left your bank account quite dry, this was cheap money, you had given your milk for free, you looked at the few pouches you had collected for next week's drop you saw a wonderful opportunity to make some quick cash.

You went to the Vought Clinic and saw a few other women filling up forms, reading old magazines or dilly-dallying on their phones until some nurse called their numbers, you filled the medical form, waited less than half an hour before your number was called, brought into a small bleach scented room, the nurse read your form and told you she would take a blood sample, a doctor came in, reciting whatever script he’d been given about what this project was, giving you big words you had no interest in, this was about providing better milk formulas closer to natural milk than anything currently in the market apparently, thanking you for your donation, he looked at your form smiling as he saw your inked words.

“You're still producing 4 months after…” The doctor handed you a disinfecting wipe and a freshly steamed breast pump in a silver tray– we just need two samples, please press the alarm to let us know you’d finished, then follow Nurse Potts to the front counter to sort out your payment.”

It had been an awkward experience, but there you were 300 dollars richer, you probably should’ve read those papers a bit closer before signing but money was money and you were told to come back if you could.

You did it a couple times for 2 months, much like a man donating sperm for pocket money or plasma to pay the rent.

That was the first mistake, you headed home and woke up the morning after wishing you had stayed out for an extra hour or two, perhaps caved in to your friends pressures and tried going back to dating (after all your ex was whoring himself all across the lower east side without moral qualms) or hookups so you would had gone to a different address, maybe you should had taken a taxi instead of taking the train and walking home.

Regardless you woke in some strange empty room, the only thing beside your person was a pair of pale pink hospital gowns, grippy socks, clean underwear and a pair of thick large towels, you screamed and banged on the door for an ungodly amount of time but nobody ever came, you stayed alone in that room for what could have been 12 hours or more… maybe less… who knew it was all too much, suddenly a sharp sound cut into the silence a note had been slid under the door, you rushed to the note.

It was instructions, they wanted you wearing their clean clothes, you could not leave the room unless you did so, and as much as you hated the idea, you wanted to get out so badly, you knew if you wanted to escape your only chance came in knowing your surroundings, you begrudgingly and tearfully changed, waiting until anything changed– the doors hissed opened, a woman in a sharp cream coloured suit stood there with clipboard and an armed guard, at the sight of the heavy looking gun– you froze.

Then you took the first step towards hell.

You knew the following things: You lived in some basement area– there were no windows, only elevators. You weren’t alone, there were other women here and they made sure to keep your interactions at minimum no doubt to keep all of you submissive and not getting any ideas, sometimes familiar faces will fade and you could only speculate nightmares. Lastly… your purpose, the reason you were trapped here in the first place was… to lactate.

A plucky little thing that stayed optimistic despite your shared horror called herself a ‘Heifer’ she wasn’t wrong… you lived in a small cell where everything had sat on top of each other feed to keep fat and producing milk much like a cow, whoever developed this diet knew of all the ingredients known to help production, and you knew there were putting something else in the food for your breast begun to feel uncomfortable, for a little while you thought you could fight it by starving yourself, then two men with guns came into the room and told you to eat or else.

The time you spend outside this microflat hong-kong style cell was in the milking room and the shower room, you were ordered to stay clean and quiet, at least in the milking room you had some television and could spend time with the other women, but they keep you isolated, you could do very little, sometimes music would play and a book would be dropped with your food but your happiness wasn’t priority, you had to fill a quota.

After a couple weeks of this you simply accepted defeat, too many guns… not enough spaces to run, and nothing to come home to… a man that wanted to sue you for more feeling as if the judge had been unfair, a pestering family who acted as if they had been the only ones who experience loss, an empty cot you still hadn’t gotten rid off and piles and piles of bills, in this quiet cool room you had spend endless hours thinking, you didn’t love your job, you had been distant from most of your friends and you could only imagine that they assumed you had run away or killed yourself after what happened nobody could blame you.

Existing for the sake of existing until you could figure out what to do next.

“Good Evening… I’m glad you’re eating so well” The lady you met the first day said as the door hissed open, she watched you like a hawk as you process this sudden interruption, clutching at your paper thin blanket, you looked at the floral fabric in her arms and the clipboard under her arm– I need you to sign this before you’re allowed upstairs”

“Am I being let out?” You said anxiously, no way it could be that easy you thought.

The lady let her smile waiver, looking at the unseen guard then at her wrist watch as she handed you the clipboard.

“Your performance might determine how soon you'll be release…”

“You assume I won’t go to the police…”

“That wouldn’t be wise Miss L/N but we assure you that you’ll be sufficiently compensated for the inconvenience.”

You wanted to yell, but a voice in the back of your head thought of this but nothing but pageantry, you were dead either way, but perhaps this could be your opportunity to escape, whatever they wanted to do now meant being outside of these buried walls, you signed the sheet without thinking, briefly considered stabbing the bitch in the eye but is likely they would turn you into swiss cheese before you even took a step too close, she took the paperwork from your hands and in change handed you a long sleeved dressed straight out of the mormon section in target, she closed the door and you dressed up.

The halls looked so odd when you didn’t wear your prison clothes, the other few doors housed sleeping and bored girls, your plucky friend hidden behind one of them, the new girl hidden behind one of them and the girl you seen before in the milking room once hid behind one of them.

They took you to an elevator– it was old box, if you had to guess by the button’s design maybe built in the late or mid 70s, you never left their side until the elevator closed before them, the box moved slowly, a dingy silver box with low honey coloured lights, so dim… and you were alone, as the light chime as it went up you felt your entire being sink into your stomach, your heart beating so fast you were sure you were gonna have a heart attack before the doors opened once again, swallowing dry spit, your eyes opened so wide it hurt.

Quiet… it was so quiet when the doors opened, you expected something else, something menacing… something frightening– not an old house, an old house in the middle of some evergreen forest, everything screams old, untouched, museum like, like it's meant to present this idea that somebody lives here but not really, despite it being an elevator hidden behind a bookcase, you take a few cautious steps, your naked feet bury in the plush carpet, there’s bird singing outside and the sun is so bright and warm it hurts your eyes, the cool tones gone and this feels like a bad dream, pinching yourself but you’re awake, tragically awake, a weird wiry smile creeps on your lips, an almost laugh escapes your lips before you can feel tears burning your eyes.

“Hello…?” You ask and you don’t know why.

As you venture into the living room, hands firm against the tacky dark pink wallpaper, you found old floral couches that matched the drapes and despite how old school it was it had a charm to it.

Then you saw him.

Perusing the VHS collection filled the entire bookcase on the wall, just rows and rows of VHS boxes, some plastic and some cardboard, the TV boxy and just as antiquated but who cared— he was there.

You ran before you even realized you done it, crashing into him with desperation, tears staining your cheeks and you could barely breath as you tried so hard to speak.

“Homelander please help me!! I’ve been kidnapped!! Please!!” You cried, pulling on his suit– please!!”

Those endlessly blue eyes more poison dart hide than veronica flower bush the more they stared at you calmly, his lips into a thin smile and his hand thad taken your wrist inflicting just enough force to keep you firmly in his grip… to show you how he wasn’t an ordinary man, he looked at you as your tears changed meaning as if you were the most unfortunate creature he’d ever seen, his lips parted just enough to show those sharp canines that had looked so charming in sidewalk posters, now you could sense their presence squeezing at your jugular.

“You are so much prettier in person, Y/N.” His voice is disturbingly soft and calm, intimately quiet as he takes a whiff of your neck, moving you to make it easier, his free hand creeped towards your hip– I was so glad when I saw your picture and you weren’t hideous.”

Trembling against him, a nonexistent cold draft blew against you, your whole body shivering and covered in goosebumps.

His eyes fixated in your breast, mouth agape as his tongue dared to lick his lip, watching you like a starved man at a las vegas buffet, his hand slithering upwards, you know where this is leading, you can’t stop crying but you can’t scream either, you're just there as his hand avoids your breasts and creeps towards your back and presses your bodies together.

“I’m so glad you signed that sheet, I was getting sad endlessly waiting for one of you to agree to the deal” He says quietly, you stare at him and you realize you should’ve actually read that stupid sheet– why so scared? I ain’t gonna bite.” He bites the air as a joke and you could tell that that single bite could have torn your finger off cleanly.

His eyes shift to your clinging fingers that stayed so stiff against his padded suit, you stopped squeezing at him now they rested limp against him.

“Let’s watch a movie…” 

It’s an awkward dance concluding in sitting down on a couch, its surprisingly soft and you’re sinking on the cushion while your mind dissolved in the sky, the coffee table had a humbled spread of snacks, pizza and milkshakes, not once did you notice, you stared at him clutching at your dress as he picked something out of the shelve, watching as his hand worked the VHS player, the clicks and whirling all you could focus on. He sat beside you as the speakers began to play the included trailers, he took the drink urging you to do the same with a menacing look, filling you with incomplete thoughts as you obeyed.

Malt vanilla marinated in your tongue, you had a terrible thought.

‘Milk’ 

You were there to provide milk… to whom? Why just milk? You thought they would sell your body or your organs, experiment on you but… they wanted your milk, but who was buying it? Who was drinking it? Where did it go? You stared at the pretty blond whose arm kept your shoulders still, you saw the news– you’d known he had a child and who knows with whom but his kid was old enough to not need it… was it for him? You thought… thinking of it as ridiculous until you remember how 20 minutes ago  he was staring at your tits as if he was malnourished, you looked at his lips pursing as he took a long sip of his milkshake and wonder if that was milk… from a cow… not a heifer like you.

Homelander smiled at you.

“I don’t like ‘The mothman prophecy’ , never been a Richard Gere fan” he said casually.

“He was really good in ‘Pretty Woman’ . This one is okay…” You looked at the screen your voice so stiff– what’s going on…? Mr. Homelander… I…"

“Shhh… watch the movie” He leaned against you resting his head on your shoulder– you tasted the best… every batch perfection– such delicate custardy taste… So this is what we are gonna do… I’ll keep you in this floor so you’re not so bored ."

You swear he’s purring as he rubs himself against you marking you as much as he was making himself comfortable.

“There’s cameras everywhere… The glass is bulletproof, doors won’t open without a fob and code, and there’s no phones or internet, but if you do manage to get out of here just be aware I’ll know.” He said such terrible things as if it was nothing– if you tried to off yourself there will be 3 armed guards and nurses here in less than a minute but if you behave I promise you– you’ll be allowed out, but only if you gain my trust.” He looks up at you as you focus on those thin lips of his– there’s no kitchen but your meals will be delivered… if you want anything just tell the camera over there.”

He pointed at the corner tucked in between two VHS tapes was a small camera.

“I like you Y/N you're cute… you’ll behave for me, right?”

You nodded, too afraid to disagree.

“Now… let’s finish the movie… I actually like this part”

You stared at the pizza box, you could at least tell that the pizza was from an american restaurant, which made you feel safe ‘Select Pizza and Grill” said in the box and you knew you were somewhere in Pennsylvania, far from your apartment in Clinton Hill.

You looked at your boobs feeling his piercing gaze on them, you started drawing lines connecting weird things together, back when you were donating your milk, girls joked about people buying for medicinal and fetish purposes, this spelled itself out for you.

Maybe you could get out of here… but you had to do something weird… but as you heard the birds outside and the warm light peeked into the room, you realized maybe you could leave… no you’ll leave, you’ll go back home and you would find a way to ruin this man and those bastards beneath you, you’ll get them out too, so you took one courageous breath and forced a smile on your dried lips.

“You really liked it?”

“Huh?”

“My milk…” You mumbled– you know I never tasted it myself but am glad to get a review.”

“It’s really tasty” he bites his lip.

Your hand plays with one of the buttons on the dress.

“It hurts a bit… I usually get asked to pump around this time… dunno if you know this but it's a bit painful when they get this swollen.”

The look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know and as you leaned away from him pulling on buttons with slightly trembling fingers, you watched him follow your movements like a snake chasing prey.

“Would you help me out, mister superhero?” Is not flirty but is slightly playful and you’re surprised that you can lie that well, he’s so shameless as he shakes his head enthusiastically, mouth opening for you– please don’t bite.”

He gasps as you let him see all that he’d wanted from the get go, why he put you in that box, why you ended up in this place for.

His body was lighter than you thought as he sunk against you-- eyes closed, body limp against yours, he made the softest sounds it put you at ease somehow, for a moment you saw a very small being latched on your chest, you’d only experienced it once before, and it was seared into your mind as a painful yet tender memory, so you close your eyes dreaming of a fantasy far removed from this peculiar reality, half lid eyes found a man so blissed out your lips curved, this was unbelievable, the world most famous supe keeping you hostage just so you could indulged him.

But you knew now… that this was your way out.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Brat Hours

You dramatically react to an issue involving your friends and so Billionaire Entrepreneur, Lanniscorp CEO Tywin Lannister takes your phone, makes you an offer that makes you panic, then fucks your panic away.

Modern!Tywin Lannister x Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, crack fic kinda, implied sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamic, age difference, pwp tbh, smut (bdsm, brat/brat tamer, daddy kink, degradation kink, bondage [belt], teasing, edging, fingering, piv, mild spit kink, dumbification kinda, breeding kink, cockwarming, biting, marking), fluff, etc.

A/N: im so down bad for this old man that the plot ends at 1k 😀 cross posted on ao3. Please consider donating €5 to Rital's GoFundMe, so that she and her family can evacuate Gaza.

Tagging: @ceoofyearning sabi mo tag kita wag mo ko block

Tywin Lannister lifts his gaze from his computer screen, eyes narrowing at the sight across the room. His desk is positioned in front of a window that looked out to the large expanse of the Casterly Rock estate. Directly in front of him, laid upon his massive bed, there, I sprawled, squealing into a pillow, wallowing in the velvety sheets.

He leans back into his leather office chair, stretching out an arm. He rests his palm on his oak desk, "will I be hounded for concert tickets to some smelly half-wit vocalist's concert again?"

His stubbly jaw clenches as he awaits a reply. He gets none.

I throw my phone onto the pillows and stand. I start pacing around the bed.

Tywin calls my name.

It does not register. I jump back into the sheets and continue to scroll on my phone. After I yelp and sit up, I flinch when he calls my name sternly.

Tywin shakes his head and sighs. He raises a hand and beckons me over with two fingers.

I chew my lower lip and rub my thighs. My skin is cool to the touch, as I only had booty shorts and an old band tee of The White Walkers on. Tywin hated it.

I sluggishly walk over to him, dread lumping in my stomach as I take in the old man's expression. "I didn't do anything wrong," I pipe up.

Tywin turns his chair to the side, anticipating my arrival. He spreads his legs, giving me perfect view of his well-ironed, grey dress pants. He opens his arms out for me, and I gratefully take my seat on his lap, my bum on one thigh and my legs in the middle of his. He links his hands together, resting them on my hip bone, "then who would cause a troublemaker so much trouble?"

I drop my head and peer up at him through my lashes, unable to fully meet his gaze knowing what I would have to say to him.

I nestle my face into his neck. One hand sneaks its way around his back, the other fondles with his white dress shirt. I undo two buttons as I take in his rich, earthy scent.

Immediately, he understands what is happening, "speak, girl, even if it's petty."

"But it's hella petty."

Tywin sighs and tries to look at my face. He cannot, so he instead turns his chair back to his computer and pulls us closer to his desk, "I cannot help you if you do not tell me what ails you."

I scowl when his hands leave me to go back to typing on his keyboard. I pull away from the comfort of his shoulder to show him my displeasure.

He ignores me.

My pout exaggerates, "nooooooo."

"No?" he spares me a raised eyebrow, "so you want my attention?"

I furrow my brows and cross my arms, "no."

"Funny," he looks back at his computer, "I was certain you'd sooner perish than be rid of it."

I sound off, offended and annoyed.

He clicks on his mouse, then scrolls through his emails.

I shoot him a nasty look.

He mumbles whilst reading the text on his computer screen, momentarily making a face because of whatever he reads.

My annoyance festers.

He begins to type his response.

I grumble, "Tywin."

He continues typing.

"Tywin," I groan and whine, "I want your attention."

He leans back on his chair again, hands coming down to his armrest. We stare at each other for a moment, I knew, because he was waiting for me to take it down a notch. He tilts head, "sit properly then, girl."

I make an annoyed sound, tightening my lips.

Tywin acknowledges the challenge and simply squashes it, "will you really make me repeat myself?"

I scoff, "I don't even like sitting on your lap."

He chuckles, deep and gutteral, annoyed and amused at once. It makes my stomach do flips. He motions with his pointer, "then get off."

I growl and straddle his lap, sitting on him 'properly'. I wrap my arms around him and nuzzle back into his neck, "stop telling my what to fucking do."

He nostrils flare. His thorax emits a low hum. He scratches his nails on my back then digs one hand into the roots of my hair. He tugs my head back, forcing me to turn to him, "watch your mouth, else I'll put it to good use-"

"Try me-"

"-I'll make you record the Lannister jingle for me."

My eye twitches. I pull away and sit up straight.

His expression shifts, knowing how much I fucking loathe his company's stupid-ass jingle. My lips curl in disgust, "yuck, the fu-- the... heck."

Tywin's lips curl slightly upward. His one hand rests on the curve of my bum, the other rests on my cheek. He swipes my lips with his thumb then brings that hand opposite the other, "filthy girl."

I scowl again.

He leans on his headrest and shakes his head, "will you speak, or shall I return to Mr. Baelish and his Vale proposal?"

My brows relax at the mention, "he's proposing something in the Vale?"

"Mmm. Undoubtedly a plot to get a promotion," he says, swiveling to reach out for his keyboard.

I swat his hand and place it back in my side.

Tywin looks back at me.

I growl and brush my hair back in annoyance. With a deep sigh, I cross my arms, looking down at my lap. I feel him looking at me, so I toy with his belt to distract myself from his scorching gaze.

He does not appreciate it, "behave."

"I ammmm."

He does not respond.

I sigh again and finally look up at him, "you know that show I watch?"

He places his hands on my thighs, his large, warm palm heats up the area, "the ghastly one about looney blondes?"

"Mmm."

"Yes. Are they finally cancelling it?"

I turn to his chest and trace the opening of his shirt with my fingers, "opposite actually. They renewed it and my moots are killing each other."

I look up at him when he does not respond.

"Online friends," I correct and drop my hand.

He furrows his brows, "so? Let them die."

I inhale deeply, "Tywin-"

"No," he raises a finger, "I understand these online friends of yours mean something to you, but if they are causing you to scream and roll around the bed over an idiotic programme, then you're more simple minded than you've let on."

I scoff, "why not just call me a slur?"

He slips a hand underneath my shirt, rubbing my sides, "I will never understand why such an exquisite creature finds such entertainment in something so dull anyway."

"Hey, it's not that bad, plus I'm only watching the show for Smith Matthews."

He hums, "and what shall we do with the people vexing you over that show?"

"They're not vexing me, they're destroying themselves over opinions on fictional characters and started bringing personal agendas into it."

Tywin watches as a line forms between my brows.

"It's seriously making me anxious because, oh my gosh, it's not that deep," I sigh, resting my hands on his shoulder.

He stares at me for a moment, "show me."

Without another word, I stand up, get my phone from the bed, and sit back down on him. I open my app and begin to drone about the details of the drama.

"Which user is doing this again?"

I show him my screen and he takes my phone, staring at my following list as I explain what happened, "--and then she was like, 'no fucking way' then posted this whole-ass thing about-"

"I've blocked them," he hands me back my phone.

My soul escapes me, "w h a t?"

"I believe the feature was created precisely for moments like thi-"

"DID YOU ACTUALLY?!" I gasp, "OH MY GODS, OH MY GODS--"

Tywin watches as I frantically look through my phone. My expression drops and my heart races as I swipe the screen, seeing that I, in fact, was now following significantly less people. I frantically unblock them.

"TYWIN, YOU BLOCKED PEOPLE NOT EVEN PART OF THE-"

"Enough!" he grabs my phone and chucks it onto his desk.

I stare at him and clench my jaw. My adrenaline is pumping, and so I take it out on his arms, squeezing his biceps until he groans and grabs my hands.

"Your calamity is imagined," he mutters. He rubs my shoulders, "do not waste your time on people you'll not even meet."

"IT'S NOT IMAGINED!" I shake my hands, "IT'S REAL TO ME!"

He flinches at my shriek. He releases me and sighs.

"You can't just do stuff like that!" I whine, feeling my eyes water, "this is like if I went through your emails and deleted the ones that annoyed you."

He purses his lips. He takes a moment before sighing his response, "so? What would you have me do?"

I glare at him and scratch my eyes.

"Hmm?" he shrugs his leg, nudging me on his lap, "is all that's left? For you to cry about your digital pals?"

"grAH! It's not like I can just follow them back and say someone took my-- no wait... I can just say that!"

Tywin raises his brows as I turn to take my phone. Before I can do anything though, he shakes his head, "I thought interacting with them 'freaked you out?'"

"Yes, but I can't just-"

"I'll have their accounts suspended." 

I raise my brows as he turns to his desktop.

"What's that app called? I'm sure it will be easy to get someone to-"

"No-- honey, that's so dramatic," I place my hands in his chest.

He turns to me with a raised brow, "now it's dramatic?"

"You're talking about suspending accounts just because!"

"Because they bother you," he rebuts, face dead serious.

His deadpan makes my stomach roll. I gulp and feel my heart race.

"Besides, what's one more bloody email to me when I've gone through hundreds?"

My breathing begins to grow heavy, but no longer because of my internet dilemma.

He averts his attention to his computer, "now tell me the name of that stupid app."

I take a deep breath and chew on my lip. I place my phone down and slump as I look at him, "you like me so much you'd waste your time on this?"

If it was possible, Tywin's deadpan drops even more. 

I lick my lips and hold back a laugh, momentarily grinding down on him.

He turns to me.

I mutter, "my stomach feels fuzzy."

"Because of your internet issue?" he leans his head back.

"Hmm... and cos I like how much you like me."

I catch the slight glimmer in his eyes, though he tries not to betray his deadpan.

I sniffle for effect and shrug. I rub our noses together and bite my lower lip, "Mr. Lannister, do you have a crush on me?"

His brows quirk and he is unable to conceal his chuckle. He breaks into a groan and rubs his hands up my back, "what irritating creature you are."

My breath hitches as he leans in for a kiss. It was a chaste one, one that meant to show affection or even soothe. In truth, it was slightly surprising, considering his affections were mostly tangible. I pull away to giggle at him and grasp his cheeks, "you like annoying girlies?"

"Careful now, girl" Tywin narrows his eyes, "I enjoy you, but be careful."

"Mmm," I nudge his face with my nose, "and how would you like to enjoy me, kitty?" I bring my hands to his belt.

"Gagged."

I chuckle as I undo his buckle, "but milorddd--"

He gruffs.

"--I want you to use this on my wrists."

Tywin draws a deep breath, "the brat wants to be bound, does she?"

I nod slowly and pull his belt off. I hang the black leather on me like a scarf and grab his face, kissing him greedily. I shift on his lap and grind down on him. I chuckle when I feel him hardness through my shorts.

"Where do you want to enjoy me, daddy?" I mutter before licking a stripe up his neck.

He groans, "on my desk, whore."

He doesn't have to tell me twice as I shove his things out of the way to make room for myself on the surface. I lie on my back, curling my legs up as I excitedly loop the belt.

"On your belly," he commands.

"Nooo," I whine as I willingly trap my wrists in knot I prepared, "wanna see you. Wanna see you get tired as you fuck me."

Tywin grabs his belt and tightens my bounds, "filthy brat."

I giggle then huff as he yanks my arms up and positions me on his desk. He pushes the hand that held my bound ones above my head and looks down at me. I stretch my legs and wrap them around his waist, "love seeing your face when you come in me, daddy."

"Mmm," he leans and grinds down on my steadily dampening core, "you like seeing me use you like a clock sleeve?"

My breathing strains. I nod with enthusiasm, "all I'm good for."

He hums again, deeply pleased. He grinds rougher into me, causing me to shift from my spot. He grabs my thigh with his free hand and repositions me, "you know your place-"

I grind my hips, meeting his rhythm.

"-yet you somehow believe I should reward you for being a whore," he mutters, stopping his movements.

I make a sound at the lack of friction and seal him tighter around my legs.

"So audacious in your need," he digs his fingers into the garter of my shorts, "beg for it."

"Please," I lick my lower lip, "I need you-- need you to fuck me- use me like toy-"

"Desperate hussy," he pulls my shorts down.

Just as he said, I desperately wiggle to help him pull my shorts off with one hand. He chuckles and sinks his face into my neck, taking in my scent then nipping my skin.

"Let's see how desperate you are," he whispers hotly against my ear.

He rids me fully of my bottoms. He fastens my legs back around him then grinds down into me once more. The friction of his pants on my bare cunt makes me hiss. I moan and throw my head back, adjusting my hips until it feels good. The sound that leaves me when he rubs me the right way is nasty.

Tywin simultaneously moans and sighs. His nails scratch up my thigh and he squeezes my hips before continuing the travel to my breast. He pushes my shirt up and kneads my fleshy lumps. He hums in approval when I arch my back.

"Please. More," I whimper, looking up at him.

He tilts his head, "more what?"

"More you," my hands begin to strain as I overcome with the need to touch him.

He senses it and tightens my bounds, making me whimper. He renews his grip on my wrists then brings his other to inspect the building mess between my thighs.

I moan when he rubs my clit. He pulls back and inspects my arousal. He wets his two fingers with my slick before sinking into me. I whine at his prodding, jaw hanging low, hips grinding into him, "Tywin."

"So soft," he pumps his fingers into me, "so fuckable."

My stomach tightens at the wet sounds of his ministrations, and in turn, I clench around his fingers.

He moans my name, making my stomach flip. He rubs his palm into my clit, "your cunt's hungry for my fingers."

I moan, needing more friction. I pant like a depraved animal, "more, fuck, please."

Tywin basks in the way he makes me tick. He tunes in to the sounds I emit as my folds leak more and more.

I whimper when he pulls out and brings his fingers to my lips. Without any thought, I dutifully clean them, lapping evidence of myself off his digits. I graze his skin with my teeth as he pulls out with a pop. He chuckles, "dirty work for a dirty girl."

"Yes, please, I'm a dirty girl."

I yelp when he grabs me by the throat and pushes my head back. He does not choke me per se, but there is pressure in his hold. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, "again, you think you deserve a reward for being a harlot?"

"No, daddy," I whine, "being a needy whore doesn't win me prizes."

"Mmm," he trails his hands back down to my breast.

"But it does make your cock hard," I sigh as I roll my hips.

This sets Tywin off. It's a visible change. He proceeds to rub my clit to prove a point, and clearly the point is to make me writhe and come all over his desk.

I moan unabashedly, something he's always loved about me. I whine his name and chant agreements, encouraging his finger fucking. I roll my hips and arch my back even more. I throw my head back and feel my neck strain as I chase the building pleasure he was supplying.

And I really shouldn't have been surprised, but he stops just as my orgasm was dawning.

I look at him, teary eyed from the loss of my incoming high. I pout and whine.

"Beg."

"Please, please,  I wanna come, baby. I need it. I need it, I want it."

Tywin teases me with his thumbs.

I let out a strangled moan, feeling my body quake, "mmm-- daddy, please. I need you! I need you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me with your fingers, with your cock, oh- fuck- want you to come in me and spit in my mouth and ruin me."

Tywin groans and shakes his head, "you truly are a depraved little whore, aren't you?"

I moan and nod, "yes. Yes, I am. I need it so bad, daddy, it hurts. My pussy needs you-"

He grabs my jaw, squeezing it to keep it open, "you want my spit in your mouth?"

I nod rapidly and stick my tongue out.

"You will not get everything that you want, slut," he says, releasing me to undo his pants with one hand.

I pant as I watch him free himself. When he does, my cunt quakes in anticipation, aching to be filled. I spread my legs, bringing my knees to my sides. My brows furrow in concentration, "please, please, please, I need your cock. Use me, please. I need you--"

My words are cut off by him finally driving into me. I squeal in excitement. I groan and tightly grip on the belt as much as I can. He thrusts into me with little regard for anything but himself. He gets lost in his thrusts. He presses his hand into my inner thigh and pushes my leg down. He pulls the belt on my wrists and pistons harder.

I cry out in approval. I mumble incoherent words of praise and encouragement in manner that scratches my throat.

Tywin eventually releases his hold on my bounds in lieu of rubbing my clit. At the same time, he thrusts slower and deeper, making me throw my head back in pleasure.

"Fuck! Just like that. That feels so fucking good, mmm fuck-"

He drags out his cock even slower, withdrawing until he's nearly out then sinking back in till his stones hit my ass. His deft fingers, wet with my lust for him, rapidly rub my clit in a fast and delicious pace. I squeal when he sporadically slaps into me, only to draw back out in a languid manner again.

My eyes begin to water and my belly trembles at the ministrations.

I whine on beat with his thrusts when he grabs my hips with his large hands and plunges deep, bullying my cunt with short and shallow shoves. My breathing is loud and hard as I wrangle out of my bounds, dying to touch him as he makes my pussy flutter. Seeing this, Tywin growls and pushes my hands back down, "stupid whore. Lay down and take it."

I make a squeaky noise, "wanna touch you- needa touch you."

"Were you not the one who asked for this?" he groans through laboured breath, "are you so dumb fucked already you've forgotten?"

I squeal and feel my breath get knocked out of me when he returns to a more brutish pace, holding me down by my decolletage. My body jolts on impact, in turn, making the desk creak and the objects upon it jostle. My salivating mouth chokes out a response, "no-- wanna to- wan' touch you, da-" I whine, "please."

"Greedy come slut."

I let out a broken moan, "lovie, please- please. Wanna touch- wanna pull you close--"

"I'm inside you," he chuckles darkly, one hand tightening around my throat.

The lack of oxygen and his thrusts make me see stars.

The next moment, he begins to fuck me slowly again, grinding into me in a moderate tempo. He stuffs his thumb into my mouth, effectively muffling my whines. I haughtily suck on his finger. With the new found quiet, the wet slapping and thrusting was now audible to anyone earshot. The sounds makes my belly wild with lust.

"Look at you," he mumbles as he does just that. He looks at me as I suck on his thumb and mewl; he watches as his cock disappears into core, my puffy lips parting with every thrust, "so eager for my seed."

I pathetically sound off at the idea, rolling my hips as I did.

"Shall I put an heir into your belly, pet?" he releases my wrists, bringing the now free hand onto my stomach, "my pretty girl."

I gag at the idea, nibbling down on his thumb as I desperately wiggle the belt off my hands. Tywin ignores me as the fantasy of fucking me pregnant clouds his mind. His breath strains as he rubs a side of my stomach, "though, I do like painting your skin with my seed."

I whimper and furrow my brows. I choke on his thumb as I mutter, "no, inside. Inside, please!"

Tywin is snapped out of his fantasies and pulls his thumb out of my mouth. He tilts his head as he watches me struggle out of the belt, "oh? You think you deserve that?"

I make a frustrated sound as I free myself from my bounds. All the while, Tywin uses his wet thumb to slowly draw circles on my clit.

I gasp when I finally manage to shrug the belt off my wrists.

Lost in the thought again, Tywin continues with his steady and deep pistoning. He imagines how my body might change to accommodate his child, how my belly will grow, how my breasts will heavy, how my slick will sweeten. He hums and curses under his breath. He doesn't actually want an heir, he doesn't think, but gods fantasy of it all.

"Need it," I whimper, reaching out to him. I grab his dress shirt and scratch the sides of his ribs. I lick my lips and debate ripping the his shirt open, but don't want to deal with repercussions of flying buttons nor what he'll do to me for destroying his shirt. I hastily unbutton his top and rub the expanse of his chest. My hands run up to his neck. I massage his shoulders and pull him close, lifting my head up to kiss him.

Tywin leans down, lips finding my own, but just before I can deepen our kiss, he pulls away and clutches my jaw, "I asked if you deserve it, my stupid fuck-toy," he rests his forehead on my temple, "not if you need it."

As this point, his movements slow then cease altogether. I whine in protest.

He clicks his tongue and rubs my thighs, "use your words, darling."

I continue to whine as I scratch as his nape. "I deserve it," I stretch out, peppering kisses all over his face. He leans into me. I lick his lower lip, " 'm a good girl, officer. So good."

He groans when I begin to roll my hips again. He grips the curve of my ass and shakes his head, "your whorish nature proves overwise."

"Please, please, please--"

"Will you cry to me about your woes and then cry again when I take action?"

I rapidly shake my head, "never. Never, lovie."

Tywin hums and rubs his nose on my cheek.

"Please," I beg, "please," I urge, "please."

He kisses my jaw and begins to move again. I squeal in relief and nip at his ear.

"Since you asked so nicely," he mutters, propping himself up on his palms.

I shift my weight on my elbows and chase after his mouth. I give him messy kisses and make it a point to catch his lips between my teeth at least once. Though normally, he would see this as an act worth punishing, in the moment, he did not care. He, quite frankly, loved the neediness, not that's he'd say that out loud.

Tywin loses himself as he bucks into a thorough pace. He plows into me with enough force to make his desk squeak and thud in protest. I meet his movements with the grinding of my hips and wanton pants. Amidst all the sensations, I feel my climax quickly drawing near.

"Yeah, baby, so good. So good."

He grunts as he squeezes the flesh on my hips. He pushes my knees back with one hand as the other rubs down to the small of my back, "you like that?"

I claw at his shoulder, dig my fingers into his nape, and rapidly nod, mumbling in mindless agreement. He huffs, looking down at me in self-satisfaction, wholly enjoying the reaction he was garnering. He spectates the wet slapping of our skin and the shuddering of my belly. He rubs circles on my clit.

"Fuck, Tywin."

He hums, "such sweet sounds."

I drop my head back.

"Prove your obedience then. Come on my cock."

I whimper his name out repeatedly and chase my incoming high.

Tywin pounds into me with more vigor, rougher and harder and more desperate.

I feel my belly begin to tighten. I howl and pull him close. I bring my mouth to his neck and graze him my teeth. I sigh and lick his skin before sucking the area, "give it to me, gimme, baby-- need it, need'a-"

His mouth finds mine and we share a heated kiss. He pushes me flat on the desk, hands on my shoulder and hip. He grips me tightly as he stokes the fire building inside him. He flicks his hips at a desperate pace and his expression displays his single-mindedness: his brows furrow, his jaw drops. My own face makes known how intoxicating it all was. Much as I wanted to watch him come, the twitch of my features prevent me from doing so, and soon enough, my eyes screw shut to focus on my pleasure.

Tywin's nails bite into my skin, and with two strong, distinct plunges, he grunts and releases his lustful heat. He continues to fuck me through his peak, and I feel him throb as he sighs deeply in ecstacy.

Quickly after, I let out a throaty squeal as my body breaks into burning bliss. My spine twists and my thighs shake as I feel my come spill down my ass onto the wood supporting my weight. I heave heavily through my open mouth and squeeze the arm pushing my shoulder down with both my hands. I lick his fingers as I grind into him, riding out my climax.

He begins to falter moments later. I wrap my legs around his waist and seal him in place. My body buzzes as he caresses my neck and rubs my lips with his thumb.

Breathlessly, he praises, "good girl."

My belly tingles and my eyes open to his look of bliss. I lick his thumb then kiss it, pulling his hand off me to then kiss his palm, "thank you, daddy."

Tywin takes a couple open-mouthed breaths as he examines me. He kneads my exposed breast then rubs down my belly. He licks his lips, evidently satisfied. I whimper as I push myself up and bury my face into the crook of his neck. I sneak my arms underneath his open shirt and pepper kisses on his skin, licking, nibbling, and doting on him.

He's accustomed to how I get after a good fucking, and though his sigh was that of content, it was also something else. He places his hands on the curve of my hips and nudges me with his nose, "I have work to do, needy pup."

I bite his neck hard enough to make him react. He calls my name out as a warning. "Wanna stay like this," I whisper hotly against his ear.

He sighs again as my lips kiss their way to his. He knits his brows but returns my affection.

I drape my arms over his shoulders, one hand combing through his white hair, "don't want my old man to be cold."

Tywin makes a disapproving sound at my feigned concern. He rolls his eyes and I simply giggle, knowing even in his annoyance, he'd let me have my way. "You will not distract me," says the man with his serious Lannister™ voice.

I am immensely undeterred and overly confident in my post-sex state, and so I stick my tongue out through my teeth before shaking my head. He sighs yet again, shaking his head as he tries to push me off. I whine and scowl in offense, tightening my arms and legs around him. The man knows it's futile, and yet he continues to push me back, as he also knows he will let himself get distracted once this work stokes his ire.

Coming to terms with his defeat, he stops pushing me off. I pull my lips into a pleased smile and look at him.

He raises his brow and warns, "you will not speak a word unless spoken to."

My stomach rolls at the severity of his tone.

"And you will not complain about how I'm ignoring you, nor long it's taking me to complete my work while you are nestled on my lap."

I chew my lip and tilt my head, "can I complain if I'm off you?"

"Yes."

I nod, "okay, kitty meow meow, sit down on your chair then."

Tywin's brow quirks.

I blink expectantly, "come on, honey. With all the exercise we do, I'm sure you can manage to get us on your chair."

He glares at me, but I simply do not care. I grin and rub the line between his brows.

With a grunt from him and a giggle from me, we end up on his chair. I kiss his cheek and rub his shoulders, "good boy."

He ignores me and rolls his chair towards his desk with slight difficulty. He arranges his things and wipes down the wet blob on his desk with a tissue, "dirty temptress."

I chuckle and rest my head on his shoulder.

We both know Tywin Lannister would never donate to charity 🤢 be better than our old man, and please consider donating €5 to Rital's GoFundMe if you enjoyed this fic.

[genericpuff]

Hey y'all, this is a very heavy post to write, but one of our beloved community members and iconic panel editor @theweeklynark has recently had their home devastated by Hurricane Helene. Phone reception is incredibly spotty for them at this time so communication is difficult, but they've put forward some donation links in their bio, both to support the relief efforts that are working hard to help the victims of this tragedy, as well as help their own family so they can get back on their feet.

(^^^ full list of donation links, just tap right!)

(^^^ their GoFundMe; they've requested that people prioritize donations to the relief efforts to help their community at large, but whatever people can spare afterwards should go here !!!)

I cannot even begin to imagine how horrifying this situation is for all the people who have had their homes and way of life destroyed by the current onslaught of hurricanes. All the photos that TWN has shared of what's become of their home in the wake of Helene are like something out of a nightmare and it breaks my heart to see a fellow community member living it with each passing day. I truly hope their situation improves as soon as possible and that they never have to live through such an astronomically devastating event like this ever again.

So please, if you're able, consider donating to any of the above organizations / collections, every little bit helps. If you can't donate, then please share this post, more visibility means it can reach more people who can. Thank you 💖

[nova-is-a-writer-now]

Highway Heat

Summary: Your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere and the trucker you flag down offers more than just roadside assistance.

A/N: Lord oh lord… I tried to be good i swear, i really tried to behave. The thing is my sweet beta reader @hautecouture02 requested a little roadside encounter one shot with Joel, specifically asking for FLUFF, and i swear on everything holy I tried my best to keep it PG… but sometimes things don’t go as I planned. So here, take this absolute filth of a one shot that’s little more than PWOP. ENJOY!!!!

Warnings: As previously stated, this is pretty much PWOP, Trucker!Joel i know nothing about trucks lol, maybe some dub!con at first but the internal dialogue shows hella consent, groping, fingering, a bit of praise and a bit of degradation, pet names like so many of them im not gonna list them all almost too many pet names if you believe in such a thing, grinding, oral male receiving, deep throating

Masterlist

You’re a good person—hell, a great person even. You give your spare change to homeless people, you donate to the puppy shelter every once in a while, you hold your friend’s hair back when they’re throwing up in the back of the club. You’re definitely not the type of person who deserves to be stranded in the middle of nowhere, sweating buckets despite wearing nothing but a spaghetti strap tank and the tiniest pair of shorts you own. This feels like some kind of cosmic punishment.

It is, undoubtedly, the worst possible time for your car to stop working. You’d been putting off the usual checkups on your car for months, knowing full well it was overdue for an oil change, a tire rotation—or whatever men who know their way around a toolbox always say. Your ex used to handle all of that for you, always acting like it was his job to make sure your car ran smoothly. He was that kind of guy who would go out of his way to make your life easier—didn’t mean he was above cheating though.

So now, you’re stuck in your geriatric Honda Civic, the AC busted and the engine refusing to start.

After a few minutes of trying to will it back to life, it’s clear you’re stranded.

You step out of the car, and the heat hits you like a goddamn slap to the face. The road’s deserted, no signs of life for miles, and of course, your phone has no signal. Perfect. Just fucking perfect. You glance down the road, hoping for a miracle, when you spot the rough outline of a truck—a big one, maybe a sixteen-wheeler—coming up in the distance.

Relief washes over you for about two seconds before your brain kicks in, running through every horror movie scenario. But it’s not like you’ve got a buffet of options, so you throw up your hand, waving the truck down as it rolls closer.

It’s a beat-up old thing, paint chipped and covered in dust, but it comes to a slow stop right behind your car. The door creaks open, and out steps a man.

He’s tall, broad, with a face lined with age and tan from long days under the sun. The net cap he wears lets a few of his longer dark curls peek out, the front pieces overpowered by graying hair. He sports a faded plaid shirt and jeans, a pair of well-worn boots kicking up dust as he steps toward you. His dark, intense eyes size you up like you’re part of the landscape he’s used to navigating.

“You alright there, sweetheart?” His voice is deep and gravelly, but the drawl is the star of the show, thick and sweet like honey.

You clear your throat, trying to keep your frustration in check. “Car broke down. Won’t start. No service either.”

He nods slowly, like this is exactly the kind of situation he expects to find out here. “Well, good thing I’m passin’ through.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes a little at that, but desperation makes you bite your tongue. “Think you could take a look?”

He stares at you for a moment, long enough that you wonder if he’s going to offer any help at all. But then he lets out a low sigh, scratches the back of his neck, and walks over to your car, popping the hood like it’s second nature.

For a while, there’s nothing but the sound of him tinkering under the hood, the occasional grunt or muttered curse as he checks things out. You stand there awkwardly, feeling the heat bearing down on you, watching as beads of sweat gather at the back of his neck.

Finally, he steps back, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Shit’s runnin’ on fumes. When’s the last time you had it serviced?””

You shift, feeling stupid. “A while. My ex used to handle it, and, uh… I’ve been busy.”

He gives you a look, something between amusement and pity, before shaking his head. He leans against the car, arms crossed. “I can tow you to a shop in the next town, but it gon’ be a ride.”

You blink up at him, surprised at his offer. “You don’t mind?”

“Nah,” he says, with a shrug, “I’m headin’ that way anyway.”

He moves back to his truck, grabbing a few chains and a tow hitch from the back. Within minutes, he’s hooking up your beat-up Honda Civic to the rear of his truck, working with the ease of someone who’s done this a hundred times before.

“You sure this is safe?” you ask, watching him as he tightens the last chain.

“As safe as it’s gonna get,” he replies with a shrug, brushing the dust from his hands. “Ain’t no mechanic shop out here, so this’ll do ‘til we get to the next town.”

You hesitate, then eye him. “You’re not gonna, like, chop me up and throw me in a ditch, are you?”

He chuckles at that, a nice gravely sound. “If I was, don’t think I’d tell ya, sugar. But no, I ain’t in the business of chopping people up.”

You look at him for a bit longer before sighing. “Fuck it, let’s go.”

He turns, heading back to his truck, his broad back facing you and making it a hell of a lot harder to concentrate

“Name’s Joel, by the way,” he says, glancing back over his shoulder as he opens the passenger door for you.

“Thanks, Joel,” you say, stepping up into the truck’s cab, the cool air from his AC hitting you like a blessing. Maybe your luck hasn’t run out just yet.

You sink back into the seat as he climbs up on his side of the cab, letting the icy air wash over you. There’s something else prickling at your senses though—something that has nothing to do with the temperature. It’s him.

Joel’s glances are obvious, a little too long, lingering like he’s sizing you up. Normally, it’d make you roll your eyes, maybe even tell him off. Old guy like him eyeing you up is nothing you’re unfamiliar with. But today? With the way your body feels sticky and tired, and the way the breakup has left you all out of sorts… you’re almost enjoying it.

You’ve been craving attention and the shitty one night stands with guys from dating apps have done nothing to satiate that need. It’s been months since anyone has touched you and that rational part of your brain that would be yelling at you to be aware of the sleazy old trucker who just picked you off of the side of the road is sounding real quiet right now.

“So…” His voice pulls you from your thoughts as he shifts in his seat, resting one hand lazily on the wheel. “Where you headed?”

You hesitate, eyes on the road ahead. “Just… trying to get home.”

He hums, slow and deliberate. “Home, huh? Got anyone waitin’ on you there? Boyfriend?”

The word slices through you, sharper than you expected. You tighten your jaw, glancing out the window. “No. Not anymore.”

Joel makes a sound, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. “Well, ain’t that a shame. Pretty thing like you, all alone.”

You should hate the way he says it, the way his eyes flicker toward you like he’s just waiting for an opening. But instead, there’s a strange warmth pooling in your stomach, your pulse picking up in a way you’re not proud of. You shift in your seat, crossing your legs like it’ll somehow tamp down the growing tension in your body. He doesn’t miss it, his smirk growing a little wider.

“That line work on most girls?” you quip, trying to keep things light.

Joel chuckles, the sound low and dangerous. “Depends on the girl. But you look a little… flustered.”

Your cheeks heat up, and it’s not just the sun this time. “I’m not flustered.”

“Sure about that, darlin’?”

You glare at the open road, biting your lip as you try to ignore the way his words are messing with your head—and your body. It’s been way too long since anyone’s looked at you like this. Really looked at you.

The silence stretches out as the truck rumbles along the deserted road. You try to focus on anything but the tension in the air and find it’s impossible. His presence feels inescapable, it fills the cab wrapping around you, pressing down on every nerve.

“You never told me,” Joel says after a while, breaking the quiet. “Where’s home?”

“Texas,” you say quietly, your voice a little steadier now. “But I’m not in any rush to get back.”

“Family trouble?” he asks, his eyes flicking toward you again.

“Something like that,” you mutter. “It’s complicated.”

He hums in response. “Don’t I know it.”

You shift in your seat, crossing your legs, catching Joel watching you out of the corner of his eye. His gaze lingers a little too long on your bare thighs, and there’s a flicker of something dark passing over his face, but he says nothing.

You want to ignore it—God, you should ignore it—especially since you’re stuck with him for a while longer. But the rising heat in your body and the quickening pulse beneath your skin make it hard to think straight, harder still to make good decisions.

So you bite.

“You gonna keep staring, or is this part of your charm routine?” You cock a brow, trying to ignore the way warmth crawls up your neck.

A slow smirk curls at his lips, but he doesn’t look away. If anything, he leans in closer, his hand resting just near your leg, making the air between you buzz. “You think I’m layin’ it on too thick?”

“Little bit,” you quip back, though your voice betrays you with how soft it comes out. You bite your lip, trying to stay sharp, but his eyes flick down to the movement, and the pulsing need low in your stomach tightens. “It’s not working, though.”

His smirk widens, like he’s enjoying this far too much. “Funny. Seems to me it’s workin’ just fine.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the way your heart races when he shifts closer, his fingers brushing against your leg. The touch is light, almost casual, but it’s enough to send a shiver racing up your spine, your breath catching in your throat.

“You can roll your eyes all you want, doll. It don’t change the fact I can see what you need, clear as day,” he purrs, his voice dropping lower.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” you snap back, though your words lack the heat you want them to have.

“Little bit of attention.”

He reads you too well. It drives you insane. “I don’t need anything from you. Just get me where I need to go.”

A quiet chuckle rumbles from his chest. “That so? ’Cause the way you’ve been shiftin’ in that seat says otherwise.”

You bristle at his words, but the truth sticks like a thorn. There’s a reason you haven’t told him to stop, a reason you haven’t shut this down. You’re tired, frustrated, and the way his eyes keep grazing over you… you can’t stop wondering how easy it’d be to let him pull you under, to let him take all your worries away.

“You’re losing it, old man,” you shoot back, even though you know it’s a losing game. He sees right through you, but that doesn’t mean you’re gonna make it easy.

“Am I?” he purrs, his hand sliding up to rest fully on your thigh. “So, you don’t want me touching you like this, darlin’?”

The way he says it—slow, deliberate, laced with that sweet, thick accent—it’s all innocence, even though everything about it screams otherwise. You know you’ll be hearing that “darlin’” in your head later, when you’re playing with yourself.

You smirk, giving him a little more rope. “I didn’t say that.”

He hums, eyes flicking between the road and your legs. “And I’m guessin’ you wouldn’t say a word if I moved my hand higher, would you?”

Your legs part just slightly, almost like an instinct. Barely noticeable to anyone else. But not to Joel.

“Look at you,” he drawls, a shit-eating smirk spreading across his lips. “Already makin’ it easier for me.”

You’re about to fire back, ready to keep this banter rolling, when his fingers slide higher. A soft sigh escapes your lips before you can stop it.

“You ready to stop actin’ up, or we still playin’ cat and mouse, pretty girl?” His eyes lock on yours, dark and unwavering.

Your pulse quickens at the challenge in his voice, your breath catching in your throat. His fingers are still on your thigh, warm and rough, and it’s messing with your head. You know you should stop this now, make him pull his hand back, but you’re not sure if that’s what you want.

“I’m not acting up,” you murmur, trying to hold on to some sense of control, even though his touch is making that damn near impossible.

His grin widens, like he’s got you exactly where he wants you. “Mhm, sure you ain’t.”

You glare at him, but it’s weak. Pathetic, really, and the worst part is he knows it. He knows how to get under your skin even though he has known you for half an hour, knows exactly what buttons to push to unravel you just enough to keep you hanging on.

“I mean it,” you snap, though your voice wavers. His hand shifts slightly on your thigh, fingers curling just enough to make your stomach twist into knots.

“I wanna believe you,” His voice is low, a quiet rumble that vibrates through you, all the way down to where you’re aching for him to touch you. He leans in a little more, so close now that you can feel the heat radiating off him, smell that familiar scent of worn leather and something dark and intoxicating. “But you keep lettin’ me touch you. Kinda sends a different message, don’t you think?”

Your heart’s pounding in your chest, the steady rhythm of it loud in your ears. You don’t know how to answer, don’t know if you want to answer. Every rational thought in your head is telling you to stop, but your body isn’t listening.

Instead, you shift slightly, your leg pressing into his hand, just enough to encourage him to keep going. His eyes darken, and a slow, dangerous smile tugs at his lips.

“Thought so,” he mutters, and then his fingers start to move again, sliding higher, testing the boundaries you haven’t set.

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the sigh that’s clawing its way up your throat, but it slips through anyway. He hears it, of course he does, and the satisfied gleam in his eyes makes your face flush with heat.

“You wanna tell me to stop, now’s your chance,” he murmurs, his voice soft but carrying an edge of challenge, like he knows damn well you’re not going to.

His gaze shifts between the road and you and it almost seems like every time those eyes are back on you they become darker.

You glance at him, your heart in your throat, and there’s that flicker of hesitation—you should say something, should stop this before it goes any further—but the way his fingers are brushing higher, dangerously close to the ache between your legs, makes it impossible to think straight.

So you just meet his gaze, and you don’t say a word.

His smirk grows, and his hand drifts even higher. “Good girl.” This time he fully gropes your thigh, groaning like he’s been waiting to unleash this. “You wanna take these off for me, sweetheart? Let me give you as much attention as you want.”

He must have some psychic hold on you because you follow his instructions with no hesitation this time. Your fingers eagerly unbotton your shorts and pull the zipper down, lifting your hips to shimmy them down.

He looks at you for a lot longe than he should taking into account he’s currently driving a beast of a vehicle. “Lord above… you’re a sight and a half, darlin’”

He goes back to massaging your thigh, making circles with his thick fingers, going each time higher. Once he reaches your panties he stops and just rests his hand there, right at the edge of where you want him most. His fingers teasingly brush the fabric, enough to make you gasp, but he doesn’t go any further.

“You’re gonna have to ask for it,” he rasps, his voice thick with something darker now. “Tell me what you want, pretty girl.”

His words are like a key turning in a lock, and your resistance crumbles. You can’t deny it anymore, not when his hand is right there, so close to what you need, your entire body burning up under his touch.

“Joel…” you whisper, your voice almost pleading now, barely more than a breath.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his hand pressing a little more firmly, his fingers tracing along the outline of your heat through the fabric. “That’s what I wanna hear.”

Your breath stutters, and your hips shift on their own, pressing into his hand. You’re barely hanging on, the tension between you two crackling like a live wire, but he’s still holding back, waiting for you to give in completely.

“Please…” you finally manage, the word spilling out before you can stop it. It’s humiliating and liberating all at once.

“Please what?”

You let out the shadow of a moan. “Please touch me.”

Joel’s hand slips under the fabric, his fingers finally finding your core, and the groan that escapes him sends a shockwave of heat straight to your core. “Good girl,” he breathes, his voice like gravel as his fingers start to move in slow, torturous circles.

Your head falls back against the seat, a whimper escaping your lips as he finally gives you what you’ve been craving. “Jesus, Joel…”

“Feels good, huh?” he rasps, his eyes flicking from the road to you, watching the way your body reacts to every touch, every motion of his hand. “Told you I know exactly what you need, baby.”

You’re melting under his touch, your body humming with the pressure of his fingers moving against you, his voice guiding you deeper into the haze of pleasure. You’re not even sure what’s more intoxicating—the way he’s touching you or the way he’s talking to you, that low, commanding tone unraveling you completely.

“That’s it, sweetness, grind on my fingers, make that little pussy feel good” Joel growls, having a harder time keeping his eyes on the road now.

“Fuck… that feels you good da-“ you stop yourself before you’re able to finish the word. Your ex didn’t like you calling him that, so you usually kept that particular kink under wraps, but something about Joel is making it surface back up.

He looks up at you, pupils blown out. “Say it… say wha you wanna say baby.”

You lose all restraint and moan loudly. “It feels so good, daddy.”

“That’s right, babygirl.” He moans “Daddy’s fingers make your pretty cunt fucking drip don’t they?”

His words send a wave of pleasure through your body, a mixture of shame and intense arousal surging in your chest. You’re too far gone to stop now, letting the haze of lust pull you under completely.

“Yes,” you whisper, the word slipping out like a confession. “So fucking wet.”

Joel’s fingers move faster, rough and skilled, coaxing you into a rhythm that has you arching your back against the seat. His other hand grips the wheel tight, knuckles white, and you can tell he’s barely hanging onto his self-control, but that only makes it hotter.

“Jesus, you’re a fuckin’ dream,” he growls, voice thick with desire. “Been wantin’ to ruin you since the minute you sat your pretty ass in this truck.”

The vulgarity, the way he talks to you—it should feel wrong, but instead, it’s like gasoline thrown on the fire already burning inside you. You grind down harder on his fingers, chasing the high he’s offering, the tension building fast in your core.

You glance over at him, his jaw tight, eyes darting between the road and you, and there’s something so filthy about the way he’s trying to keep it together while driving, the way his control is slipping. You want to push him, make him lose it completely.

“You’re losing it too,” you pant, breathless, pushing your hips into his hand. “Can’t even keep your eyes on the road, can you?”

His gaze snaps to yours, dark and predatory. “Careful. Keep talkin’ like that, and I’ll pull this truck over.”

The threat in his voice makes you shiver, heat pooling low in your belly. You’re right on the edge, your body strung tight as a bow, every nerve lit up under his touch.

“Do it,” you challenge, voice breathless and wrecked.

Joel’s eyes flash with something dangerous, his hand gripping your thigh so hard it almost hurts. Without another word, he swerves the truck off the road, gravel crunching under the tires as he pulls into a secluded spot off the highway.

Your heart is pounding, adrenaline mixing with the arousal as he throws the truck into park and turns to face you fully. The look in his eyes is feral, like he’s done holding back, and you brace yourself for what’s coming next.

“Such a little attention whore, baby,” he growls, unbuckling his seatbelt with one hand, the other still teasing you between your legs. “I’m all yours now.”

In one swift motion, he pulls you onto his lap, your thighs straddling his hips, the weight of his hard length pressing against you through his jeans. He is big, a lot bigger than you expected and it makes your mouth water,almost like your body is showing you how badly you need him in a million and one ways.

His hands grip your hips possessively, eyes locking with yours as if daring you to make the next move.

You don’t hesitate. You grind down on him, both of you letting out low moans at the contact. The friction sends sparks flying up your spine, and you can already tell this is about to be the kind of reckless, dirty, no-going-back encounter you’ve both been craving.

Joel’s hands slide up your back, fisting in your hair as he pulls you down to feast on your neck. His lips trail down, biting at the sensitive skin there, and it’s too much, too intense. You feel like you’re going to combust right here in his arms.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he mutters against your skin, one hand slipping between you to push your panties aside, his fingers slipping through your slick heat again. “Filthy little slut, letting a stranger put his fingers inside you. Gonna make you come so hard you forget your own name, pretty girl.”

Your hips buck against him, the promise of release so close you can taste it. “Fuck, Joel, please…”

“Try again. You know better.” his tone is firm and commanding, all the previous playfulness gone.

“Please daddy, let me come”

“That’s it,” he groans, his thumb circling your clit with just the right amount of pressure, pushing you right to the edge. “Come for me, darlin’. Let me feel this tight little whole clench on my fingers.”

The way he says it with such authority, has you unraveling in his lap, your entire body trembling as you come hard against his hand. Your vision goes white, pleasure crashing over you in waves as you grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

Joel watches you, his eyes hooded and hungry, soaking in every second of your release. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers until you’re shaking from the aftershocks, your body limp and boneless against him.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and satisfied as he finally pulls his hand away, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste you. “Tastes even better than I imagined.”

You’re still catching your breath, head buzzing from the intensity, but the way his hardness presses against you makes it clear you’re far from done. It’s not like those other times when finishing a guy felt like an obligation, when the effort barely felt worth it because they didn’t take the time to get you there first. But Joel? Joel made you come so hard you can’t help but want to return the favor. It’s not a chore—it’s something you crave.

“My turn,” you murmur, fingers already working at the button of his jeans.

His grip tightens on your hips, eyes darkening as he watches your hands move, but there’s a flicker of restraint. “Don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart. Can’t have this beast of a truck just parked in the middle of the road.”

You shift back onto your own seat, lifting your leg off his lap to give yourself the space you need. The desire to make him feel just as wrecked as you burns in your chest, so you lean down, your gaze steady on his as your fingers trail lower.

“You can drive,” you say, voice low, teasing. “I’m not stopping you.”

Joel’s eyes flash with something dangerous, his jaw ticking like he’s fighting with himself. For a second, you think he’s going to tell you to stop, but then he huffs out a breath, shaking his head with a low chuckle. “You’re trouble.”

You smile up at him as you feel him start the engine again, your hand slipping lower, teasing him through his jeans.

Joel’s breath hitches as your fingers brush against him, a low growl vibrating in his chest. His hand tightens on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as he tries to focus on the road, but you can tell he’s losing the battle.

His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he tries to keep his cool, but you can see right through it. The way his body is responding to your touch, the way he’s barely holding it together, it only spurs you on.

You undo his jeans and pull the zipper down, feeling the heat radiating off him. His breath stutters, and his hand slips to grip the side of the seat, trying to ground himself as you free him from the confines of his jeans.

You wrap your hand around him, feeling how hard he is, how thick, and the groan that escapes his lips sends a thrill through you. “Fuck,” he breathes, eyes flicking between the road and you, his control slipping more by the second.

You lower your head, your lips grazing his tip, and Joel’s entire body tenses. His hips buck up, instinctively searching for more, and you can’t help but smirk as you take him deeper into your mouth.

“Holy shit,” he groans, his voice rough and ragged, his hand instinctively flying to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. “You’re gonna get us both killed.”

But even as he says it, there’s no hint of him wanting you to stop. He keeps urging you on in slow, measured strokes. The tension in him is palpable, and you can feel the way his control is fraying with every flick of your tongue, every inch you take him deeper.

His breathing grows ragged, and he glances down at you, eyes dark with heat and disbelief. “You’re so pretty with a fat cock stuffed in your mouth baby, look at you ”

You hum around him, the vibration making his hips jerk again, and the low groan that rips from his throat sends a fresh wave of adrenaline coursing through you. He’s unraveling, right in front of you, and you’re loving every second of it.

You pick up the pace, your hand working him in tandem with your mouth, and Joel’s growl turns guttural, his grip on the wheel tightening. “Right there, darlin’ girl, don’t stop…” he hisses, head tipping back slightly as his hips move in time with your rhythm, chasing the release that’s so damn close.

His eyes flick between the road and you, pupils blown, struggling to stay on course even as his focus is being torn apart by you.

“Fuck, baby… I’m not gonna last if you keep—” He cuts himself off with a harsh groan, his hips bucking again, muscles taut and trembling as he loses the last shred of his composure. He’s completely at your mercy now, and it’s making him wild, his control slipping fast.

You don’t let up, your hand dropping lower to play with his balls, and he’s right on the edge, teetering dangerously close. His breath comes in ragged bursts, and his body tightens under you, his hips jerking harder, more desperate now.

“Where do you want it, baby?”

Instead of answering you take him deeper down your throat, your nose burrowing in the dark curls at the base of his cock, his smell so musky and intoxicating it makes you dizzy.

“Shit, shit—” Joel’s voice is a strangled growl, and then you feel him pulse in your mouth, a low, guttural moan tearing from his throat as he finally comes undone. He’s barely holding onto the wheel, the truck swerving just enough to make your heart race, but it’s clear he’s past caring. He spills hot and hard into your mouth, the sound of his release drowned out by the pounding of your own pulse in your ears.

You keep going, milking him for every last bit, until he’s trembling beneath you, his breathing ragged and uneven. When you finally pull away, he’s still gripping the steering wheel like it’s the only thing anchoring him to reality.

“Holy fuck,” he mutters, his voice rough and wrecked. His eyes flick down to you, wild and wide, before darting back to the road. He lets out a breathless, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “Best hitchhiker I’ve ever picked up, that’s for damn sure.”

As if on cue, the truck finally pulls into the shop, the hum of the engine fading, the weight of what just happened still hung thick between you two. Joel cuts the ignition, his hand lingering on the key for a beat too long, like he wasn’t quite ready to step back into reality. He realizes his now soft cock is still out and starts to zip himself back up.

You try to gather yourself, smoothing your clothes and brushing a hand through your hair as if it’d erase everything that had gone down on that highway. You can tell it’s gonna stick with you for a good while longer though.

Joel clears his throat, glancing over at you with a look that was somehow both satisfied and conflicted. "Well, we’re here," he mutters, but his hand was already fishing in his back pocket for something. "Here." He hands you a crumpled business card, his name scrawled across it with a number underneath. "In case you run into any more car trouble or, y'know... anything else."

The corner of his mouth twitches, like he knows damn well this had nothing to do with the rugged old thing and everything to do with the heat still simmering between you. You take the card, trying to hide the smirk tugging at your lips.

"Thanks," you reply, pocketing it casually, though the way your heart raced gave you away. "For… you know, all of it."

He just gives you that signature look of his—half-smirk, half-smolder—and with that, you slide out of the truck, legs still feeling like jelly as you walked away. You didn't even need to turn around to know his eyes were glued to your retreating figure.

[paleprincessturtle]

harvey fic request! :) maybe they get in a spat about harvey getting jealous or a miscommunication but then they fix it and then super fluffy

Hiiii!!! Thank you so much for the request and I'm so so so so sorry it took so long for me to continue writing here. Life been tough but here I am. Enjoy❤️

The Greenest

When Harvey received a phone call from Mike, he was happy, to say the least. But upon hearing what he had to say, Harvey sighed. There was this charity in Seattle, and both Mike and Rachel invited him. Harvey dodged the question by saying that he had to ask his wife. It wasn't that Harvey didn't want to donate his money for a good cause, but he rarely spent time with his wife now. He just wanted to stay home and do absolutely nothing with his wife in his arms. He could just write a check for it and make up some excuse later.

Harvey got home to Pink Floyd blasted through the house. He couldn't help but hum along with the song. It would be useless, he thought, to call out for his wife. He found her in their bedroom, a few dresses draped on the bed as she stood in front of her kingdom of shoes. "Are we going somewhere?" Harvey asked casually as he took off his suit. She jumped at his voice, eyes wide. "You scared the living hell out of me," she said, reaching for her phone to turn down the volume of the speaker. "Well, I suggest you shouldn't give your husband a spare key, then." Harvey rolled up his sleeves as he observed the dresses. "We're going somewhere?" Harvey asked again. "Oh yes! Mike and Rachel invited us to this charity gala. It's for abused women and children. Can you imagine?" Harvey watched as his wife's face scrunched in sadness. He swore this woman wouldn't even hurt a fly. "It's in Seattle?" Harvey asked again as she earned an eager nod. Well played, Mike, Harvey thought. Going straight to his wife. Well played. "We sure can come, yes?" Harvey looked at his wife, knowing damn well it wasn't a question. He nodded and smiled. 

Harvey's favorite thing to do whenever he went out with his wife was to watch her get ready. He watched his wife put on matching underwear in black, all lacey. He stole a glance at his watch as his brain raced at the possibility of tempting his goddess of a wife for a little fun activity. "Don't think about it, Harvey." His wife scolded him as she watched him from the unreasonably huge mirror in their hotel room. "Think about what?" Harvey asked, pretending to be clueless. "Think about taking off my underwear, bending me over, having your way with me, being late, and what excuse should you give Mike for being late?" Harvey smirked at the sultry way his wife said it. "We've been in this dance before, Harvey. I will not fall for it again. Now, why won't you be a nice gentleman and zip my dress?"

"Jeez, Harvey. Didn't you arrive at the hotel yesterday? This whole thing started an hour ago!" Mike scolded Harvey, who gave him a knowing look. "Seriously?" Mike gave him a disgusted look, and not long after, his wife came along. Mike hugged her and thanked her for coming. He then managed to explain this charity he and Rachel are now part of. He also said it would be good for the charity to know two successful New York lawyers are here, siding with the charity. It just meant more money for the charity. Which was great.

Not long after, Rachel came, and she gave them brief hugs. She managed the whole event, so Rachel was running around as she made sure that nothing went awry. The three of them were having a good time. They talked about what was going on in their lives. Harvey probably would have to admit that this wasn't an entirely bad idea to come. Mike nudged Harvey, "There, that's the city attorney. Let's put that pretty face to good use." Harvey looked back at his wife, signaling for her to come along. "I need to go to pee; I'll look for you later." Harvey smiled at her as he followed Mike.

Harvey just realized that his wife was never to find him. It had been 20 minutes; surely she didn't need that long. Harvey tried to look around. He squinted his eyes at the sight of his wife, who happened to look way too comfortable with a man he had never seen before but was somewhat familiar. A man her age. Harvey frowned as he hurriedly excused himself. He made a beeline to where his wife stood but slowed down his pace when he was near. "Oh Jackson, you know how it is in New York," Harvey heard his wife laugh not long after. "Well, then maybe you should consider moving here." Before he could hear what his wife's reply would be, Harvey stood beside her, an arm wrapped around her hip. Harvey didn't miss the way this Jackson guy's eyes followed where Harvey's hand rested. "Won't you introduce us, sweetheart?" Harvey asked a rhetorical question. She sensed something wasn't quite right with Harvey's attitude. "Jackson, this is Harvey, my husband." Harvey extended his free hand. "Harvey, this is Jackson ...." Before she could finish her sentence, he jumped in. "I'm her ex-fiance," Jackson said, shaking Harvey's hand. Harvey gave him a curt smile. "Who would have thought that Harvey Specter is your husband?" Jackson said to her, but his eyes never left Harvey's. Again, before she could say anything, Harvey said, "What can I say, Jackson? I'm immaculate, and my wife has an immaculate taste." They looked at each other for quite some time, trapped in an uncomfortable silence as the two men tried to intimidate one another. Harvey then remembered that he once went against him in court. Harvey won, of course. "Well, it was nice to meet the two of you," he was about to leave when he stopped in front of her, "especially you; I'll give you a call when I visit New York." Before he left, he touched her bare arm. And Harvey was seething. Harvey took her hand to make them face-to-face. "What the fuck was that?" Harvey said, his jaw tightening. "What the fuck was that? What the fuck was what? I was just trying to get him to donate, Harvey!" Harvey scoffed, "By flirting with your ex-fiance, who suggested you move here?" She looked at him, exasperated. "We're going back to the hotel," Harvey said quietly. He took her elbow as he guided her out of the crowd. "Harvey, we are invited here to help them raise the donation," he said, shaking his head. "We're going back to the hotel." Harvey's voice left no room for argument. Before exiting the venue, she caught a glimpse of a confused Mike. She shook her head in silence before Mike became out of view. 

The two of them were silent during the ride back to the hotel. "We're back now at the hotel, happy?" she said sharply as she took off her heels. "We could've helped more if you weren't being so childish and being all jealous!" She raised her voice, both hands on her hips. She looked at Harvey's back, and he poured himself some scotch. "If you weren't flirting like a high school girl, we would still be there." Venom laced his voice. He turned to face his wife. "Do I need to pack your things and send them here so you can get back with Jackson?" His wife shook her head in disbelief at his words. He finished the glass in seconds, opened the door, and slammed it hard. She sighed and prepared herself a bubble bath. There is no use in arguing with him now.

She woke up with the curtain open. She squinted her eyes. She was greeted with the sight of Harvey sitting in a chair just beside the bed. "Hey, sunny," Harvey said softly. She didn't say anything or react; she just stared at him. "I'm sorry," he said genuinely, she could tell. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did; I'm really working on my issues. She nodded, she knew he tried. "Did I hurt you?" he asked as he took her hand in his. He did so as if he might break her, so gently. "You did," she answered quietly. "I'm really sorry," he kissed her hand softly. "It's okay, Harvey. Just try to work on yourself harder, okay? I'm here ready to help if you need anything, but no more lashing out," she said as she caressed his cheeks. Harvey leaned into the touch and closed his eyes. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" Without answering, she moved over and signed for Harvey to lay beside her. 

[neotrances]

hi my names tyler, im a autistic black trans guy escaping an abusive household, im remaking this post bc it’s gotten long and donations have mostly stoped

TLDR: my homophobic mother who is verbally physically and financially abusive kicked me out of the house, i cannot go “home” ever as i’m in the process of cutting ties entirely, she has attempted to kill me multiple times and has threatened to kill my pets, something she has done in the past, as of may 15th she’s called all of my family members and have gotten them to turn on me bc of not wishing her a happy mother’s day, the last time we spoke in person threw my belongings (as well as my cats) into the street and threatened to harm me if i return / call the cops, she is incredibly violent, homophobic, transphobic, and mentally unstable and i want to go no contact

i’m staying at my partners parents house but this is not permanent stable housing, i have two cats staying in the room with me and my bf, im looking to find stable housing in the bucks county, Trentons border or north east philly areas, i can afford up to 1k in rent but would prefer anything lower / roommates to split rent for a place near those areas

all money I get will go directly into my savings and will be for paying rent and application fees, i have a steady money flow but i don’t want to risk getting evicted if i find a place, if you know anyone that can spare housing or who is looking for a roommate near these areas please reach out to me i’d really appreciate it, i don’t have many options, i just want to get my life together and be free of my mom so anything at all helps, the gofundme can be spread on its own, i’ll try to update it or this post as often as i can, i just spent about $200 on a new phone today as my mothers been cutting my service on and off despite me paying my own phone bill and i’m trying to make sure her and my family can’t contact me anymore, below are other ways to donate if needed, thankyou for taking the time to read / spread this

paypal + venmo

last updated october 14th, here’s a link to my most recent dono post, i have a depop in my pinned on my blog, thankyou for any support given

[mangocheesecakes]

Updates on the Munir family at last!

Finally, Layla has gotten in touch with them and confirmed that they are alive and are trying to get settled in Al Mawassi. Yousef also responded to my message just now confirming that they are in Khan Younis, and that the situation there is very hard as it is almost a desert and there is no water or food. When I told Yousef that I was glad that I finally got to hear from him after so long, he shared that he has to walk 2 hours(!!) to get internet.

As Layla said in her story, they now need to raise money so that they can get the Munir family esim-compatible phones so that they will be able to connect with each other better and give updates about their situation. The amount they are aiming for is $1,200.

If you have any money at all that you can spare, kindly please consider sending it the Munir family's way. Here is @mohamedmoner1994's gofundme:

And here is @yousefmoner's

Some kind people have been donating to Mohamed's link but the donations are still coming in very slow, and with Yousef's the last donation was 2 days ago.

As of writing this post,

Mohamed is at: £6,531 / £45,000

Yousef is at: £2,991 / £50,000

If you are unable to donate, please keep reblogging Yousef and Mohamed's links, and share it on your other social media as well if you can 🙏

[arinzu]

My Headcannons for bllk characters💋

Part 1 l part 2

Shidou, Sae and Kaiser

💗💗💗

🪳Ryusei Shidou🪳

✿His favorite painting he made was sperm cells swimming towards the egg cells.

✿Middle Child vibes, has a older sister and a gen alpha brother.

✿Was once very emo

✿Makes traditional Japanese painting and donates to the art club since he thinks their chill asf

✿Learned how to do makeup from a website that has too much virus.

✿Very chill outside the field

✿Likes traumatizing children, once a kid came to him and ask 'how babies were made', that kid was his brother.

✿Knows almost every gen alpha or gen z slang known to man.

✿I genuinely think (even if this is canon) he has a room dedicated to sae's passes to him at the u20 vs bl11

Boyfriend Headcannons🪳

♡Your display name on his phone is my pookiebear💗, Cockroach junior🪳, My babagrill💕.

♡Paints you and him kissing under the moon om a bridge.

♡Call him my one and only demon and he'll go feral or just wear he's jersey.

♡If anyone is making you uncomfortable he'll buy a bat and swing that bitch like no tomorrow.

♡Writes a cheesy love poem and reads it out loud to the bllk CCTV that is broadcasting live.

♡If you guys cuddle he'll kiss your collarbone or forehead if you're not ready.

♡Once wore a fairy costume with you for Halloween.

♡Doesn't get why you're insecure about your body, in his eyes you're divine, your perfect and he is lucky to have you by his side.

♡You thought he was into sae until he confess his love to you in the weirdest way possible (he said be my egg cell to my sperm BLA BLA BLA...)

♡Always tries to make you feel love even if it's weird, just know that he loves you no matter what happens

Sae itoshi💋

✿Gives judgemental stares/side eyes to his questionable fans, it's bcuz y'alls Kinda weird...(Some y'all gotta go)

✿He isn't a massive tsundere he's just stoic like that.

✿He got traumatized(prob not)by seeing one of his questionable fans made of him and shidou (hint it was a fanfic)

✿Owns a few Spanish and English dictionary and regularly reads it.

✿Still has a photo of him and Rin somewhere in his place.

✿Has a big ahh tv in one of his rooms to watch horror movies if he had any free time to spare.

✿Almost flip off Luna when they were practicing on more than one occasion.

✿On his childhood he found a stray cat and fell in love with it, sadly he never saw that cat again after he was famous.

✿Wants to file a restraining order against some of his fans, didn't because of his manager.

✿Goes to the internet only for browsing for fights.(he uses a anonymous acc)

Boyfriend Headcannons.

♡Isnt possessive nor protective since your an adult with your own life, and since he knows that everyone knows your his and his yours.

♡Blow him a kiss or any sort of affection to him when he's entering the field, he doesn't want he NEEDS it.

♡If any of his fans are harassing you don't worry since he got bodyguards surrounding you.

♡He loves you deeply and if the media questions that he'll have no problem with clearing up the confusion.

♡Beach dates!

♡Even he might not look like it, he loves your affection, it clings to him like a bug so show him affection.

♡Please do wear his jersey or any of his merch... He wants everyone to know that your his lover.

♡If you cheat on him he'll cut you in half (totally not from who would you choose? Check it btw it's in one of the endings)

♡Cuddle with him, spend some quality time, or just watch his matches he will be so happy.

♡He might not be the best lover you'll have but he'll be the richest one you'll ever have.

Micheal kaiser💠

Half of these are angst and most importantly from his childhood🙂

✿He isn't actually as cocky as most of his teammates think he is, his just hiding that pathetic boy in him so people wouldn't try to use him.

✿Doesn't want to go to therapy since he'll lose out on training that might end up in him going to jail.

✿Hated those kainess shippers on the bllk tv.

✿At one point, somewhere he actually liked ness not romantically but liked as a human, that quickly change.

✿Loves stray animals he often tries to feed them food.

✿Still keeps the blue rose gifted from his mother, it's sacred something he would never give to someone else.

✿When he's about to sleep he has the sudden urge to piss.

✿Has a notebook to talk shit about people.

✿Gets awfully quiet near a store he had stolen from.

✿Vibes with any music genre unless it's about abuse.

Boyfriend Headcannons.

♡Spoils you rotten and buys you expensive things especially with things he wanted as a child.

♡Gets really mad if you gonna ask him when can you meet his family, it's before he told you his past.

♡Whenever he remembers the past he'll snuggle with you until he falls asleep hugging your waist.

♡I REPEAT THIS AGAIN wear his merch, jersey, and buy his plushies he loves to see you with them.

♡If you give his merchandise too much attention, he'll have no choice but to hide them (time to time destroy it)

♡He thinks your the angel that save him from that horrible nightmate.

♡Is probably using you to stop the nightmares.

♡You and his teammates have a somewhat civil relationship, but with ness he actually adores you.

♡Makes you and him matching bracelets or any type of accessories.

♡If you're a questionable fan, he'll give you the side eye once or twice a day.

That's it y'all I totally didn't upload this by accident on more than one occasion.... BUT FORGET THE ANGST AT KAISER

TYSM for reading!