#endowment assurance

[sawruhh]

okay so

[tanvi-financeblogger]

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[beatrixstonehill2]

"This is..... so much more thrilling than I ever could've imagined! I think I'm beginning to sympathize with women who drop everything to become trad wives or porn stars. Kidding...... maybe. As you all know my team were tasked with moving to South Africa for a five-year archaeological expedition, I guess you could say. My team are all women, and we were warned that the customs in this region of South Africa are very relaxed toward women. Almost like the deep south in the US right now. I told them we'd be pretty far from major population centers and it shouldn't be an issue but..... that was apparently wrong information.

We arrived and saw our lodging was right in the middle of a charming small town near the quarry my team intended to study. Immediately we were met by local guides who gave us the rundown. We'd be driven into the city twice a week for major shopping, otherwise we'd stay in this town. We were checked out by a local doctor, who had us strip naked, asking us about our sex lives, history of partners. The man laughed when we all said we slept with under ten men each, handing us our own vial of fertility drugs, assuring us that number would get higher very quickly.

Our guide told us to be respectful and not spurn the curiosity of locals, especially the men, in both the city and the town we'd be calling home for five years. Immediately, upon waking up the next day, a group of fishermen, all in their twenties and thirties came upon us. They were some of the most fit, chiseled men I'd ever laid eyes on. All of them wearing only shorts, their heavy erections visibly pressing against the fabric. We said hello, and before we knew it we were being passed around like mere toys. I guess the rumors of a certain group of men having large endowments is..... very much true. I'd never been fucked so hard in my life. Most men I've slept with were so clumsy and afraid to do anything I might deem offensive. These men did not care one bit about my pleasure, or even my safety. They were studs in the truest sense! We were fragile mares, helpless like maidens as we were held down and brutally fucked for hours.

When they finished, our holes flooded with what had to be a liter or more of semen, we looked at each other, and despite having been essentially gang raped, we all agreed it was the most thrilling, glorious sexual experience of our lives. So, spurn we did not! All of us made sure to wear skirts and dresses so our holes were readily accessible for the locals. Needless to say the constant sexual intervention has delayed our expedition quite a bit. We've all lost tally of how many men have fucked us. Thousands, by my estimation, and it's wonderful to know I'm so sexually experienced now! I very quickly stopped seeing it as rape, more so I was fulfilling my womanly duties to the local men. I daresay this is how humanity fared for thousands of years before puritanical religions ruined everything.

We've been here a year and four months. We're all five months along with our second batch of children. These pregnancies are looking markedly larger than our first. It's so exciting to see our wombs expand so quickly. To our surprise the men did not simmer down whatsoever as we became immensely pregnant with at least triplets. On the contrary, the larger our uteruses stuck out, the more men would rush over to ram their shockingly large cocks into us. It's incredible to realize what my body was always capable of! I always treated sex so daintily, soft and erotic, come to find out my body was capable of being forty weeks pregnant, my womb filled to the bursting point with four kicking, ten-pound children, as dozens of men pound away at my swollen, dilated sex. My body has taken so well to this I feel like I'm finally achieving its true purpose. Seeing my body endure so much sex, cocks forcing their way into my holes so large they're less fit to impregnate a girl than scramble her innards.

It's naturally grinded our professional affairs to a halt. But I don't see any of us complaining, in fact I'm looking forward to getting so pregnant I might lose the ability to get up and walk, like many local girls. It's positively thrilling to consider I might be little more than a bed-bound, fuckable womb in a few short moths, my sex wettens are the mere thought. The quarry has been there for hundreds of thousands of years, I'm sure it can wait. Until then, I think I'll ask that local doctor to increase our fertility drugs, on a scientific level I'm morbidly curious to see just how many kids can fit in my womb. It's so exciting! I'm hoping I be filled with over twenty, imagine, all those men pounding away at my poor body, as I stare at my towering belly, pinning me down, an entire classroom of children writhing away inside me. Such a thing..... would necessitate repeat testing for many years to come. Not sure we'll be making the five-year deadline. But that's fine, I don't mind calling this place home far longer."

[choerypetal]

Distraction / Coriolanus Snow

Summary : Coriolanus and You are both selected as mentors, and let just say that he whenever you feel a little too 'sociable' he gets distracted and would make sure to who you belong to.

Enjoy! (English isn't my first language, so I apologize for any mistake)

To ascend to the role of mentor demanded a blend of finesse, charisma, and an unblemished demeanor, qualities reserved for the privileged echelons of Panem's chosen. The revelation of one's inclusion wasn't a mere announcement but a unstable pause, a stillness punctuated by the resounding utterance of names until, unmistakably, yours found its place on the coveted list. 

Now, endowed not only with the prestigious title but also the requisite capability, you navigated the ensuing challenges with a sense of latent assurance. Throughout the process, an uncanny awareness gripped you, a conviction that Coriolanus’ watchful gaze bore into your very essence. An enigmatic conflict brewed within him, an unspoken desire for your exclusion even as he showered relentless accolades upon you. 

In the covert depths of nocturnal meetings within his private sanctuary, his expressions wove a tapestry of profound admiration and genuine regard. Strikingly absent was any semblance of feigned surprise at your nomination, suggesting an anticipation of fate's alignment. "Y/N, step forward." Your name resonated with a meticulous pride in the legacy of your family, prompting you to descend gracefully along with your peers. One by one, individuals were chosen to assume the pivotal role of mentor, all for what ultimate purpose? The perilous pursuit of victory in the Hunger Games.

Coriolanus, in stark contrast, observed each nuance of your demeanor. Whether it was your poised rise from the chair, the exuberant cheers of your friends celebrating your selection, or the unmistakable pleasure tinged with a touch of envy directed toward the other male. You consistently confided in Coriolanus about the depth of your friendship with this individual. However, despite your forewarnings and the reassurances delivered in your angelic voice, it appeared that these declarations did little to prevent Coriolanus from appreciating in disgust, the subtlest of gestures exchanged between you and your friend in that crucial moment—a simple yet profound hug.

As the ceremony drew to a close, Coriolanus lingered at the entrance, anticipating your emergence. A fervent desire to claim your attention exclusively simmered within him, yet he judiciously postponed exploring those emotions, allowing you the space to break free from the throng. The spotlight gravitated toward the newly appointed mentors, Coriolanus included, but he deliberately sought the sanctuary of distance and its attendant consequences. 

In the midst of joyous embraces shared between you and your chosen classmate, the vibrant hues of your smiles illuminated the tableau. When your eyes inevitably locked with Coriolanus's, a fleeting yet authentic smile on your lips wove a narrative of a carefully crafted excuse, suggesting an impending meeting with an urgency that, beneath its surface, concealed the true intention of drawing near to Coriolanus himself. "And I pondered, how in the world could I ever be chosen." You remarked with a momentary pause, a self-assured smirk gracing your features as you finally drew close to Snow. To this, Snow responded with a mirrored smirk, acknowledging. "Told you that you'd be selected. Can't say I was mistaken this time."

Flashing a subtle eye roll in response to his confidently asserted demands, you couldn't help but be amused by the way he carried himself. Not to mention, he felt the need to remind you of your privileged status as one of the select few chosen to be a mentor. Although you managed to conceal any traces of pride on your face, there was something intriguing about Coriolanus's sudden actions. The casual brush of his fingers against your waist, coupled with the assertive manner in which he approached you, conveyed a sense of control that he seemed to have gained from observing the ceremony. Despite the unexpected nature of his behavior, you didn't appear irritated; instead, you willingly let him take charge. 

Breaking the silence, you interjected with a pause, shifting your gaze momentarily from Coriolanus to your friend, who had earlier hinted at a noticeable intimidation for Coriolanus. Returning your gaze to Coriolanus, you added. "You know," With a slight emphasis. "If you continue with this overly protective demeanor, you might end up making the poor thing even more uncomfortable." The emphasis on the 'poor thing' became more pronounced as your full attention returned to Coriolanus.

"When do I ever come across as too cocky?" He inquired, arching a brow in a way that seemed designed to make you feel diminutive compared to his self-assured demeanor. As you observed him, you could have sworn his smirk subtly grew in response to the effect he was having on you. Moreover, he didn't shy away from expressing his desire, doing so with a degree of sophistication that bordered on subtle affection. If the dynamics of your relationship were as apparent as he made them seem, you might have suspected he was merely engaging in this for amusement. Consequently, he left you with no choice but to respond to his probing question. "I am genuinely surprised that I can endure such teasing." You replied, somewhat taken aback by the unexpected turn of the conversation.

As the room gradually emptied, you sensed Coriolanus' breath drawing nearer to your skin. His warm presence had a dual effect, both intimidating and strangely comforting, especially when his arm casually encircled your waist, indicating no intention of letting go. His gaze softened as he noticed the subtle glimmer in your eyes in response to his proximity, even though you hadn't consciously tried to make it obvious. "You know, you look oddly beautiful today." He remarked. Stepping back slightly offended from his comment, you decided to play along in this familiar game that invariably concluded with a well-timed kiss between the two of you. “You don’t look bad yourself.” 

In that moment, you experienced the gentle touch of his lips effortlessly gliding across your skin. Starting from your neck, his plush lips skillfully caressed and sucked at your soft flesh, leaving marks that would need to be concealed for the coming week, if not a few months, should he persist. Instead of dissuading him, you found yourself suggesting he continue, and he did. His free hand roamed down your entire body, drawing you closer to him. "You are mine," He asserted relentlessly, repeating the declaration without warning, as his lips now yearned for the connection with yours. "Mine until the end." He proclaimed with a conviction that left no room for doubt. 

"I am yours." Your voice whispered softly, almost like suppressed whimpers escaping your lips as you endeavored to keep any audible sounds at bay. The awareness of being in a public space heightened the need for discretion, as the uncertainty of potential intruders loomed. "Yours until eternity, Coriolanus Snow." You added. His smile widened, and amid the kisses, you felt his teeth gently sinking into your bottom lip, eliciting more of those restrained whimpers and a silent plea for him to continue. "We should be careful not to get caught." You reminded him, although his affections only intensified, fueling a growing desire for more. "Who cares if someone sees us, sweetheart," he dismissed, his words brushing aside any concern for discretion.

"I do." A voice, familiar yet elusive in its identification, caused both of you to freeze in place. Coriolanus' grip on your arm tightened, the intensity more pronounced this time. He refused to release it, his brows furrowing in anger. It was evident that the intrusion had upset him more than either of you could have anticipated.

Volumnia Gaul fixed her gaze on both of you, her eyes piercing and unwavering. A pause lingered, seemingly devoted to contemplating the fate she had in mind for the two of you, not to mention devising a fitting punishment. Her reluctance to do so was palpable, considering your shared reputation as the Academy's top students and mentor. "Dr. Volumnia Gaul..." Coriolanus broke the silence with his response. In his defense, given the way he had left you in a state of supplication and submission, you found yourself rendered in silent, unable to offer any immediate rebuttal. “I can explain.” 

"No need for it." She remarked, despite being well aware of the relationship dynamics between you and Coriolanus. While part of you yearned to inquire about the how of her knowledge, the weight of Gaul's reputation, coupled with her own legacy, left you feeling restless and apprehensive. The fear of inviting punishment held you back from probing further. However, to your surprise, Gaul chose not to impose any retribution. "Just be careful next time, especially you, Snow." She cautioned, emphasizing the importance of discretion in your interactions. 

As her figure faded from view, you raised a skeptical brow in response to her remark, a shared laughter ensuing from the peculiar conclusion it left. "What did she mean by 'be careful'?" An undercurrent of concern swept through you, but Coriolanus reassured you with a gentle caress on your face, assuring you that everything would be okay. "Nothing, I suppose. My distraction just makes me a little too vulnerable at times." He confessed. Observing him closely, you tilted your head with a smirk playing on your lips. "And..." You paused for a moment, carefully choosing your words. "Am I the distraction?"

“You are.” 

[emotionally-cuckolded]

A cuckold's shame

You knew how anxious your wife was about this night going well. You had worked hard all day to make sure the house was clean and to make all the preparations for dinner, and for the special guests who would be arriving at any moment.

Your wife's boyfriend and his parents were coming for dinner. This would not be the first time your wife had met them. In fact, her boyfriend had first introduced your wife -- his "girlfriend" -- to his parents about two months ago, and your wife and his mother got along really well and even had gone shopping together a couple of times -- just the two of them. And his father really liked your wife too.

The only issue was that they knew your wife was married to you, and they were concerned about their son having fallen in love with a married woman.

Your wife had assured them a couple of times that you were nothing but a small-dicked loser cuckold and that you posed no competition for her boyfriend. But still -- they wanted to meet you -- to judge for themselves.

As your wife saw her boyfriend's car pull into the driveway, she reminded you of what she was expecting of you. She had instructed you to meet them at the door, to thank them for coming, and to assure them yourself that your wife's boyfriend was now the only man your wife loved and that you accepted that he could please her in ways that you never had been able to and that you were actually grateful that she had found a man who was so much more of a man than you are and that you accepted that the two of them are now a couple and you would never do anything to interfere with their romantic relationship.

You went downstairs and did exactly as she had told you to do, then showed them in and brought them drinks, just as your wife arrived and went immediately to her boyfriend to give him a deeply affectionate hug and kiss and then she sat with him while you stood at the ready to bring anything else that anyone might want.

After a short time, the four of them sat down for dinner -- which you served, but did not partake of yourself -- your role was to serve the meal but not to be part of the group eating at that time. It was obvious that your wife's boyfriend's parents were impressed with how obedient and subservient you were and how much more you were acting like the hired help rather than like a husband -- and they were impressed with how much your wife TREATED YOU like the hired help and how obvious it was that she had no respect for you as a man. At one point, the mother laughingly said to her husband that she had never seen a man who was quite as big of a loser as you seemed to be.

After serving the four of them their dessert, and while you were in the kitchen beginning clean-up chores, you heard your name being called by the mother. You quickly went back into the dining room to see what she wanted. Your wife had mentioned, before they arrived, that you might be asked to actually show her boyfriend and his parents how poorly endowed you were, and so it was not a complete shock when the mother said directly to you that she understood that your "manhood" was more boyish than manly, and she would like to see if that was true.

Even though you knew this might happen, it still made you feel about as humiliated and ashamed as you had ever been in your life -- to have to stand there, right in front of your wife's boyfriend's mother, removing your pants and underwear to show her (and the others) how boyish your penis really was.

As you removed your underwear, all four of them began to laugh, and you could see both parents looking at each other with looks of surprise. Obviously, however small they thought you might be, you were even smaller than they actually expected.

Through her laughter, your wife's boyfriend's mother then asked your wife "does that little thing even work?". Your wife laughed again, and said that it did, although not well, and that you played with it constantly "so apparently he likes how it feels when he rubs it". Your wife then decided to show them how much under her control you were, so she told you to lay out some newspaper on the floor, then to kneel down and start to play with yourself. However, she also told you that you would not be allowed to "finish" unless her boyfriend's mother said you could.

And so -- in front of the four of them, who obviously all found the situation hysterically funny -- you laid some papers on the floor, then knelt and started rubbing yourself. As you did, you heard the mother comment again on how small you are, now noting that even when you're excited and hard it was no more than about 3 or 4 inches at most. "No wonder she cuckolds you" she laughingly said as you continued to stroke yourself.

As demeaning as the situation now was for you, you still quickly realized that you were getting very close to an orgasm, so you looked up at the mother to ask if you could keep rubbing now to completion. She said -- no -- and told you to stop rubbing. But she also told you to stay in position, and then a minute or two later, she told you to start again. It was then hardly any time at all before you were once again asking -- actually, now, "begging" would be a better descriptor -- for permission to complete.

But again, the answer was no. But now, she also told you to crawl over and to kiss the toes of her shoes while continuing to beg for permission. This was, without question, the most humiliating and demeaning and emasculating experience you had ever had -- whimperingly begging the mother of your wife's boyfriend for permission to rub yourself to completion while kneeling in front of her on newspaper.

Finally, when you really had reached the point of begging tearfully, she gave you permission, and you rapidly "made your little mess" (as she described it) on the newspaper on the floor while the four of them watched and laughed.

By then, as you cleaned up after yourself by rolling up the pieces of the newspaper that you had made your little mess on, it was obvious to your wife's boyfriend's parents that you truly were a cuckold loser who could never be anything like a threat to the romantic relationship between their son and your wife. For your wife, that meant that the evening had been a huge success.

[tightjeansjavi]

The Menu | Part 2

“like an angel to me”

A/N: so I think this is the fastest I have ever written something in awhile! Every time I think there’s no possible way for me to want Joel even more, I surprise myself with something like this 🥴

~word count : 5.3k~

Pairing | dark! Joel Miller x f! reader

Summary: after showing up to Joel’s apartment late one night, he gives you exactly what you’re seeking.

Warnings: dubcon/teetering on noncon (the lines are pretty blurred but I just want to be safe) coercion, manipulation, mind games, degradation, a sprinkle of misogyny, possession, ownership, dominance, humiliation, reader goes from being a dom to a sub real quick, brat tamer, praise kink, size kink, blood kink??, spitting kink, unprotected PIV, rough sex, breeding kink, creampie, light spanking, oral (male receiving) little to no foreplay, some aftercare??, Joel is an asshole, delulu! Joel, cockslut, whore, bitch, are all used. Age gap, Joel is in his 40’s reader is in late 20’s, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is Angel, this story might not be for everyone, and that’s okay! Please heed the warnings! If I have missed any, PLEASE let me know. +18 minors dni!

The last thing Joel Miller expected you to do was laugh. Not just giggle, or a snicker, no. It was a full on wheezing laugh.

“Oh my fuckin’ god. You’re not actually serious, are you? Wow, is this supposed to make my panties wet or something? Cus’ it’s sure doin’ the complete opposite!”

His face turned beet red all the way to the tips of his ears. The glass that was clenched firmly in his fist was on the verge of shattering. Guess he couldn’t handle his fragile ego being busted open, huh?

“Y’think you’re so funny, huh?” His confidence was wavering on thin ice as he reached for the bottle instead.

“Oh, yeah. I think I am absolutely fucking hysterical. What? You don’t get your dick wet enough around here as it is? Oh, shit! Is it because your dick is small? It’s alright, Joel. Most women don’t care about size anyway.” You were smirking through your teeth as you sipped away at what was left in your glass.

The glowering man sitting across from you took one harsh swig from the bottle before he cracked his neck to the side. “I get my dick wet around here plenty. Thank you for showin’ some concern though. Ain’t you just a real peach? Why even mention my dick size, huh? Ask any woman around here and they’ll all tell you that I am well endowed.” He nearly growled as he slammed the bottle down along the coffee table.

“Geez, don’t go and get your panties all in a twist, Miller. I have no interest in knowing anything that has to do with you dick, I assure you. God, I swear all men, even after the world has gone to shit, are the same. Y’can’t handle someone busting your ego? Well, aren’t you just some delicate fuckin’ china.” You scoffed and placed your glass down on the coffee table like a dignified person.

Oh, you didn’t just bust his ego, you shattered it right down to the core. He could handle some bruising, sure. But god, if he didn’t want to tear you into two right now—

“Maybe I shoulda let those men in the alley fuckin’ tear you apart, since you think this is so fuckin’ funny. D’ya have any fuckin’ manners at all?! I risked MY fuckin’ skin to save your own and this is how you’re gonna act?!” His voice boomed through the thin apartment walls. He expected you to cower. To profusely apologize for poking the angry bear. Instead, you stood your ground.

“Maybe you should have! You could have just minded your own and let them fuck me up, but instead you what? Wanted to be the hero?! I never asked you to come and rescue me, Joel! Y’want me to say thank you? Fine. Thank you oh so much for saving me, Joel Miller! How can I ever repay you?” You mockingly batted your lashes, followed by an eye roll as you rose to your feet.

“Yeah, well, next time I ain’t gonna be there to save your skin! So, why don’t you jus’ go on back out into the streets, and see what happens!” He shook his head tightly as his jaw clenched like a fist.

“Great! That’s the best news ever because like I just said, I never asked you to rescue me!” You yelled exasperatedly as you made your way over to the door. Your head still throbbed, and your nose felt like a million tiny shards were digging into the flesh, but you’d much rather spend a night in lock up than another minute with this man.

“Great! Jus’ be on your way then, girlie!” He grumbled through his teeth.

“Oh, and Joel? For the sake of all the women in the QZ, why don’t you just keep your dick in your fuckin’ pants.” You gave him the middle finger before yanking his apartment door open. “Do not fuckin’ follow me home.” Was the last thing you said before you slammed the door behind you on the way out.

“Oh, don’t you worry! I ain’t gonna follow your bratty, disrespectful, no good—” he was cut off by the apartment door swinging shut so hard, it nearly fell off the hinges.

For good measure, the brooding bear got up from where he was sitting and locked the apartment door just in case you thought about coming back. Not that you were going to as you were already halfway across the QZ street heading home.

Joel Miller did not see you again for what felt like months (not really. He’s just a bit dramatic is all) when all in all reality, it had been two weeks to the date. He thought maybe you had died, or worse; He thought that maybe there was a chance that you got infected. Good riddance.

But then Tess told him that you were in fact alive, but avoiding him.

Joel knew why of course. He was quite the dickhead during your last interaction. Tess couldn’t really blame you for wanting absolutely nothing to do with Joel Miller ever again.

Business carried on like usual on their end even without your addictive charm in the mix.

You fucked a FEDRA soldier for extra ration cards just out of spite, and to get Joel Miller’s stupid face eliminated from your brain permanently. If you ever ran into that man again, you wanted to be smelling of another man’s cum just to rile him up all over again.

You wanted to crawl right up into his skin. Cover him in welts and hives to drive him mad. Hell, you wanted to poison him and leave him without the antidote. Fuckin’ Joel Miller and his stupid Texas twang and those piercing brown eyes and massive hands.

Perhaps that’s how you found yourself outside his apartment door late one night searching for a vice to be filled again.

You knocked once, then paused and knocked twice.

This is fucking stupid. What the hell am I doing?

When you heard no immediate answer from the other side of the door, you assumed that he wasn’t home and proceeded to turn on your heel to walk away—

The door squeaked open as Joel Miller's head appeared from the doorway.

“Fancy seein’ you here tonight, Angel.” He rasped deeply. You couldn’t even see his face yet, and you just knew he had a shit eating grin plastered on it.

“Miller.” You acknowledged him with a tight nod when you finally turned to face him.

He was leaning against the door jamb with his arms crossed and brow raised curiously.

“And what is it exactly that you're showin’ up here for?” He knows, of course. He’s known for awhile, but he wants to hear you say it first.

“Somethin’ that I heard you have to personally ask for. Somethin’ that isn’t advertised on your little menu here, Joel.”

his lips curve upwards in a wolfish grin. He cocks his chin to the side as his broad arm comes to rest along the chipped wood on the doorframe.

“Was wonderin’ when you’d finally give in, Angel.” He rasps. Thick and deep. His words hang heavy in the sultry air.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at his response as you crossed your arms against your chest. “Okay, well, you don’t need to be all mysterious about it. Now, can I come in, please?”

“I see you're still at it with being a disrespectful brat, huh?” He pushed himself off the side of the doorframe so that you could make your way inside. The door was pulled shut behind you with a soft woosh of air.

“Yep, and I all I could think about these past few weeks of you fuckin’ the disrespectful brat right out of me, Joel.”

I fuckin’ knew it.

“Oh, I see. So, that’s what you’ve been up to all these weeks is thinkin’ about me?” He awaited your answer with a bated breath.

“No.” You deadpanned with a faux sigh. “Was too busy fucking a FEDRA officer for some ration cards. Didn’t have enough space in my brain to think about you setting me straight.” You teased with a smirk playing on your lips.

His fists clenched at his sides as his jaw tightened. The thought of you fucking another man, let alone a FEDRA officer?

“Hmm. Is that so? Well, I think you’re lyin’ through your teeth right now, Angel.” He wasn’t about to let you get under his skin that easily.

“Me? A liar? Oh, I’m truly wounded. C’mere, Joel. I bet you can still smell him on me.” You purred softly.

His eye twitched as he imagined you screaming another man’s name as you rode his cock—

He took a few steps towards you and backed you right up against the countertop. He dipped his head down towards your face as his hands came to rest along either side of the cool countertop. His nostrils flared as he inhaled your scent with his nose pressed deeply into the clavicle of your throat. “Did ya fuck him before you showed up here? Answer me, Angel. And y’better tell the truth.” His voice dropped an octave that shamelessly sent a pool of arousal dripping through your panties.

“Mhm. I fucked him before I showed up here. His cum is still inside of me, Joel. Y’gonna fill me up too?”

His teeth grazed the spot where your neck met your collarbone as he dragged his hot tongue across your skin. “S’that what Y’want?”

“Sure.” You shrugged almost disinterested.

“That ain’t how this works. Y’tell me exactly what it is that you want from me, and I deliver. Y’got that?” He asked you sternly as the bridge of his nose dragged upwards across your throat.

“Ah. So the women you fuck tell you what they want, and that’s all you do to them? Well, where’s the fun in that? Seems kinda boring to me, Joel.”

“Y’don’t like my rules, then y’can fuckin’ leave. That’s how things work around here, baby. So, I’ll ask y’again, what do you want from me?”

“Hold on. Hold on, cowboy. Pump the breaks. What if the thing they’re requesting is something you’re not interested in? You still do it? What about the things that you want? Ain’t that important in all this?”

“God, you’re annoyin’, y’know that? Can you just answer the goddamn question? I ain’t have all night.” He grumbled impatiently.

Then you did something that neither of you expected. You reached your hand up between your nearly touching bodies and grabbed ahold of his jaw tightly between your fingers and forced him to look directly into your eyes. “No. Fuck that. The world has gone to shit and you’re not thinkin’ of your own desires? Man, don’t you wanna be in charge for once? You think I’m so annoying and nothin’ but a disrespectful brat? Then show me what you do to women like me. Put me in my place, Joel.” You challenged him.

It was as if something inside of him had snapped. Maybe you were right. Maybe he oughta put you in your place after all. Why only be half in charge of how things played out, when he could take the whole cake himself?

“Alright. We’ll play the game my way then.” He chuckled darkly as his knuckles turned stark white from how hard he was gripping either side of the countertop.

As soon as you went to open your mouth, one of his hands clamped down instantly as he leaned in close. “Startin’ with shuttin’ this smart fuckin’ mouth of yours up. Yeah, ain’t so tough now, are ya Angel? Didn’t think so. Now, I’m only gonna ask you once, alright? Get. On. Your. Fuckin.’ Knees. Now.” He commanded you.

You dropped to your knees like an obedient dog on a leash waiting to be rewarded with a treat.

“Wow, would ya look at that. Guess the bitch can be obedient after all.” He chuckled.

Your eyes narrowed slightly at his new demeanor. You weren’t one for teasing, and right now Joel Miller was testing your patience.

“Don’t go lookin’ at me like that. You’re the one who showed up at my door, remember? This ain’t goin’ fast enough for you? Well, we’ll just see about that.” He tsked under his breath as his hand moved from your mouth to resting along your jaw.

“Open.” He commanded you as he applied a bit of pressure to either side of your cheeks. When you obediently opened your mouth, he praised you. “Good girl.” Followed by a light loving slap to your cheek. “Now, the way I see it is that you have three holes for me to fuck.”

His grin intensified when your eyes widened at his suggestion. It wasn’t that..you were afraid but if he wanted to fuck you in the ass at some point, you’d need to be ready for him.

“Oh ho ho. I see. You ain’t ever done that before? Hmm. I’m surprised that a mouthy bratty whore such as yourself hasn’t had a cock in her ass before. Well, maybe we’ll save that for another time.” He leaned down so he was closer to your face as the blunt ends of his fingernails dug into the skin on your cheeks. His lip curled up into a snarl as his pupils darkened. “But then again, I am supposed to be puttin’ you in your place. Ain’t I, Angel?”

Tears began to spring along your waterline from how hard he was gripping your face. Maybe you were biting off more than you could chew. “You’re hurting me, Joel.” You gritted out as a few tears leaked down your cheekbones.

“Good.” “Now I have your full attention. That’s very good, Angel. Look at you bein’ a good girl with your listenin’ ears. Now, if I do remember from our prior interaction, you assumed that my dick was small. Ain’t that right?”

You nodded meekly.

“Ah ah ah. Words, Angel. Use ‘em. I ain’t into silence. You speak when spoken to. Y’got that?” He squeezed your cheeks tightly as tears continued to roll down them.

“Yes sir.” You squeaked out.

He loosened his grip on your face, which in turn allowed you to relax your jaw. “Where were we? Ah! Right. The part where you assumed that my cock was small. Right before you called me some delicate fuckin’ china. So, how about you see for yourself.” He gestured to the growing tent in his jeans. “Don’t be shy now. Go’on and see if the women in the QZ are jus’ sayin’ horse shit about my size.”

You swallowed the lump growing in your throat as you felt his eyes burning holes in your skull from how harshly he was staring you down. Your hands quivered under his gaze as you reached for his belt to undo it.

“Don’t act so nervous, Angel. It’s just a cock. It ain’t gonna bite ya.” He teased with a chuckle. You could visibly see his hardened cock twitch under the confines.

You undid his belt before looping your fingers through the faded fabric and tugged them down swiftly over his ass and thighs.

You saw the sheer size and the girth of him through the tight fabric of his briefs as his own hand reached down to palm himself through the fabric.

“Holy shit.” You whispered in awe as your jaw fell open.

How in the hell is that supposed to fit?

He seemed to be reading your mind as his hand that was palming himself reached for your own and placed it under his. “We’ll make it fit, baby. Don’tcha worry your pretty little head about that. Although, maybe now is a good time to take back that little comment you made, hmm?”

Your own fingers dragged across the stiff outline of his cock as your eyes flitted upwards to meet his gaze. “I take it back.”

“Take back what?” He pressed.

“Sayin’ that you probably have a small dick.” You spoke quietly through the thick rising tension between you.

“Atta girl. See, that wasn’t so hard, huh? Still need’ya to take it out for me, Angel. Gettin’ awfully painful for me.” He hissed between his teeth when your hands finally grasped the waistband of his briefs and tugged them down. His cock sprang up freely against his taut stomach. The tip was gleaming with a bead of precum that was weeping from the slit.

“Well, it ain’t gonna suck itself, girlie. Get to it” he gruffly requested as he placed one hand along the back of your head and nudged you forward towards his cock.

For a brief moment you thought about just biting his dick off right then and there. Sorry, the voices. You just didn’t want to seem too excited. The FEDRA officer you recently fucked had nothing on Joel Miller’s cock. That was for damn sure.

Your glassy eyes stayed locked on his darkened ones as you stuck your tongue out and gave the tip of his cock a light kitten lick. He must have not been too pleased with it because his grip around your head tightened as he yanked your head upwards.

“Suck now, Or you ain’t gettin’ shit in return. We clear?” He asked you sternly with his eyes narrowed into slits.

“Crystal.” You mumbled in response before wrapping your palm around the base of his length and gave it a few slow tugs. When you finally obeyed, and he felt the wet heat of your mouth engulfing his weeping tip, his shoulders slumped as he inhaled a shaky breath.

“Shit—yeah. There ya go. See, that ain’t so hard? Fuck—that’s good, Angel.” He praised you from above as his hand loosened its grip around your head for a millisecond.

You relaxed your jaw on instinct to slowly inch your mouth further around him. The girth of his cock was stretching your mouth further than it had ever been stretched. Drool mixed with precum dribbled down your chin as fresh tears sprung to your eyes. You truly weren’t sure how you were supposed to fit all of him.

Joel didn’t want to admit it outloud, but seeing you sitting so pretty on your knees, mouth stuffed with his cock, and little tears leaking from your watery eyes, he never thought you looked so beautiful.

“That’s it, Angel. Relax a little more. Convince me that you’re actually enjoyin’ this. C’mon. Ain’t you a bit of an actress after all?” He chuckled.

Your hands found purchase around his bare muscular thighs as you tried to push yourself back for a gulping of air. Joel didn’t allow you the pleasure however as his hand was still firmly holding your head in place. You let out a sound that was nothing short of frustration before the tip of his cock pressed against the back of your throat, igniting your gag reflex to kick in.

Joel loved it.

His eyes rolled back when your throat clenched around him like a fist. His nails scraped lightly at your scalp as he threw his head back. He had received many blowjobs in his lifetime, but most women couldn’t take him all in. But once again, you proved Joel Miller wrong.

Feeling rather pleased with your work on him, Joel finally allowed you that breath of air that you so desperately needed as he removed his hand from your head. You immediately pushed yourself back off his thighs as his cock slipped out of your mouth with a light pop. You coughed a few times, gasping as a string of saliva hung from the tip of his cock all the way to your lips.

Before you could fully recover, his warm calloused palms were wrapped around your forearms and yanking you up from the faded tile floor hastily. He proceeded to wipe away your tears as his cock, still very much hard, twitched between you.

“Remember, Angel. You’re the one that showed up to my apartment like the cheap, bratty, beggin’ whore that you are. You asked for this. Y’wanna leave? Doors right there. I won’t stop you.” His thumb brushed the spot just below your eye.

You shook your head immediately. If it wasn’t for the constant tingle that simmered between your thighs, you probably would have hightailed out of there.

His smirk was nothing short of proud as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Very good, Angel. Very good. I’m testin’ you, and you’re passing with flying colors. Got your listenin’ ears on and everythin.’ Y’know what happens when you’re a good girl? Y’get rewarded. And I’m feelin’ mighty generous..so in the next five seconds you’re gonna take your pretty ass on over to the couch, you’re gonna strip down and bend over the side of it. Y’got that?”

You nodded as your hands already dropped to the hem of your shirt, fingers playing with the frayed ends. “Yes, sir.”

He patted your cheek affectionately before he stalked off to his room. You could hear him counting down from five as you scrambled to discard your shirt and tug your jeans down over your thighs. Your pulse quickened as you made your way over to the couch and bent over the side of it. You shouldn’t have felt this excited, but Joel Miller truly did bring the inner whore in you out to play.

His footsteps were heavy and audible just as you were reaching for the waistband of your faded panties to drag them down your legs.

“Ah. I’m sorry, Angel. Was five seconds not enough for ya?” He tuts softly under his breath. His footsteps hold a slight swagger as you feel the heat of his body simmering on your bare skin. His hand rests along the back of your thighs before slowly dragging upwards. He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh as your covered pussy clenches around air. “Didn’t give ya enough time to take these off, hmm?” He hummed under his breath as he dragged his thumb across your covered core, applying the tiniest of pressure.

“Joel,” you whimper with a sharp breath when you the pad of his thumb pressing against you. “I’m—sorry, sir.”

“Sorry?” He sounds slightly confused at your apology. You can’t see his face, but you imagine his head cocking to the side as he gazes down at you like a starved man salivating at the wet patch that pools in the fabric of your thin panties. “Honey, this ain’t nothin’ you gotta be sorry for.” He reassures you as his head dips down.

You can feel his wiry, coarse beard scraping gently at the base of your spine. His lips on your searing skin are wet, hot, and inviting as he begins to leave open mouth kisses all the way up to the spot between your shoulder blades. You feel both of his massive hands prying your cheeks apart, followed by the slick length of his cock sliding through your covered folds.

He grunts directly into your ear as the sheer mass of his body conceals you like a cloak. He’s so fucking big. It's suffocating, almost. Being enveloped by a man such as him. Your thighs rubbed together to relieve the ache between them.

Can he just get on with it already?

“Now, Angel. I’m gonna fuck this pretty little cunt of yours till your legs shake. Till that stupid FEDRA officers come doesn’t even fuckin’ exist anymore. You’re gonna scream my name, and you’re gonna let every single one of my goddamn neighbors in this shit hole apartment know jus’ who’s fuckin’ you so well. Hell, maybe even that FEDRA fuck will be able to hear you from outside. You’re gonna scream and cum, like the dirty, obedient, little cockslut that you are.” He growled before bringing his palm down against your ass with a harsh, stinging slap that sent your back arching.

“And maybe, if you do as your told, and you milk my cock fuckin’ dry, I’ll treat you like a princess. Food. Shelter. A cock to keep you warm at night? Soft touches. Kisses. The comfort that I know you so desperately fuckin’ seek. All of that, and more can be yours, Angel. You jus’ have to be good and do as your told.” His teeth scraped the outer shell of your ear before he bit down on the thin skin harshly between his teeth. His thumbs looped between the waistband of your panties before he yanked them down to your ankles swiftly.

“Joel, that’s not what—” you tried to speak and get a few words in. But this was his show, not yours.

“That’s not what, Angel? That’s not what you want? Oh, please. Let’s not start this off by lyin’ to me. You showed up here tonight because you were seekin’ somethin’ I offered. I know how that brain of yours works, little girl. Y’sure can run that mouth of yours, but you and I both know that you’re fuckin’ helpless. Those men in the alley would have killed you if it weren’t for me. They would have torn you to shreds had I not stepped in. Say it, Angel. Say that I saved you.” He snarled unkindly as his freehand slipped around to your mouth. He pressed a kiss to your throat, right where he could feel your pulse quicken. “Spit.” He commanded you.

You shamelessly spit of glob of saliva right into the palm of his hand just like you were told.

His annoyance was prevalent when you didn't bother to answer his demand for you to admit that he saved you. Your blood was pumping in your veins and your heart was beating because of him.

You felt an unpleasant chill roll down every vertebrae in your spine when he didn’t praise you for spitting into his hand like a good girl. You tried to turn your head to the side to see what exactly it was that he was doing, but he didn’t give you that satisfaction. Oh, no. He wasn’t going to give that to you.

You went to open your mouth, to tell him just what he wanted to hear, but your words were muffled as he shoved your face right into the couch cushion. His hand encaged your head while the other slipped back between your nearly connected bodies. He used your saliva as lubricant as he fisted the heavy weight of his cock a few times.

Your body lurched forward when you felt the head of his cock pressing into your glistening hole. He was barely notched inside your cunt, and you were already trying to crawl away. He was too much.

He tuts with a disappointed sigh, shaking his head tightly. “Y’wanted this, remember?” He almost sounds pitiful. Almost. “Can’t exactly fuck this tight little hole if you ain’t holdin’ still, Angel.”

“Joel—it’s too. Fuck. It’s too much.” You whine pathetically as your nails dig into the worn fabric on the couch cushions.

“Too much for a fuckin’ cockslut like you? Shut the fuck up and take it.” He hissed between his teeth. “Just fuckin’ relax and quit bein’ so stiff. I’m tryin’ to make this an enjoyable experience for the both of us!” He snapped cruelly. He dropped his hand from around your head and opted to wrap his arm around your middle, yanking you back against his hips as he sank further into your heat.

“Actin’ like your pussy doesn’t want this, baby? She’s huggin’ me so fuckin’ tight already. She’s pullin’ me right on in. S’like she’s takin’ my cock fuckin’ home.” He groaned deeply as he bottomed out. Filling you to the fucking brim. His cock felt like it was splitting you in two, right down the middle. His chest was firmly pressed down against your back as he rolled his hips forward.

A strangled moan crawled up your throat as you found yourself fucking yourself around his cock. Showing him that you could in fact play the role. Be the actress. Milk him dry just as he requested.

“Joeeel.” You moaned wantonly with your cheek pressed firmly against the scratchy fabric of the cushions. Your tears had long since dried in a salty cavern along your cheekbones.

“That’s it, Angel. That’s a good fuckin’ girl. See, I told you I can fuckin’ treat you well.” He grunted praisingly as his lips found their way to your neck once more. He sucked, licked, kissed on your sweat-slicked skin as he pulled his hips back before jutting them forward once more. He set a deliciously deep and urgent pace as he fucked into you. “Don’t think for a second that I’m—-fuckin’ lettin’ you off the hook so easily, Angel. Y’still gotta tell me who saved you. Who saved your fuckin’ life!” His teeth grazed the thin, breakable skin along the column of your throat. He bit down harshly, drawing blood to the surface as he sucked on the entry wound that he created. A marking of dominance. Possession. The carnal need to own you.

The coil in your stomach tightened and pulled as your orgasm quickly approached. You liked it. You liked being fucked like the cockslut that you truly were. With each harsh thrust of his hips, the weight of his balls slapping against your skin, you cried out his name in a cock-drunk stupor.

Joel. Joel. Joel.

“Not the FEDRA officer fuck, right? Did he fuckin’ save your skin?! Huh?! No, Angel. He didn’t. Bet he woulda taken the opportunity to kill you, Angel. I bet they all fuckin’ would! Every last goddamn rotten, son-of-a-bitch sick fuck left in this shithole would jump at the opportunity to spill your blood on the streets below, Angel. Not me! Not Joel. Why do you think that, Angel? Why do you think I’d never let anyone hurt you?”

Your pussy clenched down around his cock as your strangled cries fell freely through your parted lips. Your back arched to meet his relentless thrusts.

“Because—because you own me, Joel!”

Maybe it was the endorphins coursing through your veins. Maybe it was the way Joel Miller’s cock continued to hit the spongy spot inside of you with every heavy thrust of his hips. Maybe it was the way he spoke to you. Or the way his body shielded yours with sheer strength. Maybe it was everything combined. In your cockdrunk haze, you wanted to be owned by this man.

“Yes, Angel. That’s right. I do fuckin’ own you. I own your body. This pussy. That smart mouth of yours. I own the come that drips between your thighs. I own your screams. I own your thoughts. Your feelings. Your likes and dislikes. I own every fuckin’ part of your being.” He growled possessively as his thighs and yours began to quiver. As his cock began to twitch, and your tight cunt began to pulse like a heartbeat.

“You own me, and I own you.”

He didn’t disagree. He didn’t argue as the cries of his name falling from your tongue mixed with his own heavy grunts.

Angel. Angel. Angel.

As he shot hot ropes of his seed into your fucked out hole, you milked him of every last drop, and as he slipped out, you could feel a mixture of his and your come dripping down between your thighs.

You could feel his heartbeat against your back as his breaths came out as hot puffs across your clammy skin. His cock softened against his thigh. Glistening in yours and his come. Your eyes fluttered shut as the post orgasm haze swept over you.

You felt two strong arms gently pulling you up as your head fell back against his strong shoulder. He held you securely against him. All you could hear was his heart beat and your intermingle breaths.

“Did you really go and fuck that FEDRA officer before you showed up here, Angel?” He asked softly while the pads of his thumbs rubbed soothing circles against your hips.

“No.” You admitted. “I didn’t.”

banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤍

[moncharrow]

hii!! i saw you were taking requests so can u write an knight!ellie x princess!reader period piece?

it was never meant to be

a/n: thank you for the cool request! i don't know how i feel about this- never wrote for this time period before. it was a fun learning curve!! i hope you enjoy it. requests are open <3 please. please. tell me. smut or fluff or angst idc

-content/warnings: 1.8k words, fem!princess!reader x knight!ellie, arranged marriage/political marriage, mentions of reader having to marry a man, slight angst? happy ending though, feminine reader i suppose

You were a goddess amongst mortals, treading the Earth lightly and gracing the barren ground with flowering spring beauty. There was an elegance to your touch. Anyone blessed enough to know you were changed for the better, your kindness and charity caressing their soul like hundreds of dandelion wisps in the wind. Heads turned when you walked down the pathways, villagers hoping to get a glimpse of their beloved princess, to catch her stray gaze as she passed. You were the kind of person who would never be subject to malice; even if someone wished they could despise you, the love behind your eyes would soothe their violent minds. Your soul seemed to be sculpted by the hand of a creator who endowed you with pure goodness.

Ellie’s skin was etched with years' worth of hardship, mental fortitude carved into her perpetually crinkled brow. Dirt caked her bloodstream, poisoning her soul as it moved through her heart. Behind her eyes was no mercy, no forgiveness, only seeking vengeance on some imaginary being that had seen no value in her from the moment of creation. It seems the same deity that sculpted you had been corrupted as it created her, molding her heart of ashes and skin of rotten wood. She was a decades-old shattered, rusty sword thrown into a river. No value. No hope. Only a broken promise of a better future that had been forgotten.

​​But your merciful, generous sight had befallen her by some stroke of luck. You recognized something good within her and gave her the chance she'd always dreamt about. You sponsored her induction into knight training, looking past her fiery faults and into the essence of her spirit, finding a spark of virtue. You tended to it until the ember became a blaze, and Ellie Williams became a force to be reckoned with. Despite the whispers of naysayers around the castle, there was something honorable and just inside her. There would never be enough words in the English language for Ellie to express her gratefulness to you properly. Even if there were, she couldn't string them together- she was never skilled with words. Instead, her every step carried a purpose: to echo your goodness through her actions.

Every so often, she'd find a quiet moment and reminisce upon the years of hardship she'd endured in training. Initially, she'd been one of the weakest pupils, lanky and malnourished but with a lust for improvement. She would cry herself to sleep the first year, and every night, she'd sneak out to see the dear princess, who would hold her and assure her that she belonged. It took time, but Ellie began to believe her. She sought comfort from you night after night, conversation topics turning personal after Ellie’s mental health had begun to improve. You’d talk about nothing and everything: silly hypotheticals, stories of growing up. The juxtaposition between your upbringing and hers was comical, but you both found comfort in learning about each others’ lives. 

When Ellie was with you, she felt like her social status didn’t matter. She was just a girl, and you were just the girl she was in love with. The class difference didn’t matter and neither did the impossibility of being together. Just two girls in love, neither with the courage to admit it. 

The lingering touches turn into shy smiles as Ellie sits in your room. Ornate tapestries adorn the walls and silk kerchiefs cast you in warm golden light- you look like a sun goddess in a long linen dress, your well-manicured hand coming to rest on Ellie’s knee as you laugh at something she said. Her rude humor was a welcome change to the sterility of castle life. You grew tired of the roles forced upon you by your authoritative parents and court, and vastly preferred Ellie’s brash personality. Your parents would have a collective aneurysm if they knew you were mingling with the ‘peasant knight’ (their words, obviously), so the two of you were reduced to sneaking around. 

Ellie’s smile dropped a bit as she felt your touch through her trousers. Her head felt dizzy and she attempted to compose herself, finding it hard to focus when your touch was so delicate and warm. Your call of her name was like a siren song, impossible to ignore its dulcet velvety tones. “Ellie?”

“Yes, Princess?”

You scoff. “Stop with the title. You know I hate it.”

Ellie smiles. A selfish thought crosses her mind- she wishes you were born normal, born in the village like her instead of in an ivory tower. Maybe then, things could have worked out. “That’s why I use it.” You laugh again, and she feels her stomach turn. Why couldn’t you be like me?

-

A week later, Ellie’s thoughts are the opposite. You sit in the throne room, grandiose decor embellishing the great chamber. Lavish royal purple flags and bright maroon banners drop and fold along the walls. Opulent chandeliers of pure wrought iron hang from the ceiling, supporting crystal fixtures through which valuable beeswax candles bathe the room in light. Stained glass rose windows and fleur de lys seem to further isolate Ellie, who stands guard by your throne. Invasive thoughts plague her as she keeps her professional face. I don’t belong here. I never have. I wish I was like you- then I could take you away from here. The thoughts are heightened when she sees the reason the entire town is gathered under the concave.

Four suitors from across the land vie for your hand in marriage. Ellie bites her tongue, her taste buds flooding with a familiar metallic sting. 

They don’t really want you, not like I do. All they want is power. They don’t treasure your time or your kindness. You deserve more. 

She clutches her spear, posture erect, seeming the quintessential knight. Only you noticed how her hand shook with nerves, how she seemed to hold onto the weapon as if letting go would kill her.

Each suitor takes time to introduce themselves. They focus on their own qualities, never talking about why they would be honored to be with you. And they would be. You sit on your throne, deep purple taffeta draping your body elegantly as you cross your legs. Aphroditic, a Hellenistic Roman statue come alive. Romantic, expressive, nymphlike in every way. If you were Euydice, Ellie thinks she must’ve been Orpheus. The anticipation of witnessing you choose your husband (and thus leaving her) was beginning to affect Ellie physically. Her heart felt like it would die in her chest: she swore she felt an arrhythmia. 

First, the suitor from the East describes what he would gift you if wed. As if you would be swayed by material possessions. The suitor from the South notes his conquests. The changes in your expression are minute, but Ellie knows the look. You’re entirely disgusted, and she clears her throat to catch your attention. You look over, the unimpressed look still donning your face, but your eyes light up when you see her. Ellie smiles- a silent reminder: I’m still here for you. It’s like you’re the only two people in the room.

The Western suitor wears his pants inside out, and your eyes immediately meet Ellie’s. You cover your mouth with your hand, appearing classy while chuckling and snorting behind your cover. 

The Northern suitor is handsome and decent, Ellie reluctantly admits. She’s not blind. She hates that she doesn’t hate him. He expresses interest in you and vows to give you autonomy. It’s basic, but more than the others offered. She tries to read your expression and for once, she can’t. It makes her heart drop. 

After every suitor is introduced, you and your court go into the back room to discuss your final decision. The decision that, whomever you choose, will ruin Ellie. She stands guard before the door, straining her hearing to find some clue that you won’t marry these men. She begs silently to whatever immortal being watches over her. 

You haven’t done much for me. I haven’t asked for much. But I’ll do anything to stop this. Please. 

A knock at the door signals Ellie to move away. She takes your hand and leads you back to the throne. You sit, and Ellie has to will herself to let go of you. What if this is the last time she’ll be able to hold you? The thought nearly brings her to her knees. Her joints ache with every step she takes away from you, returning to her post in front of the chancel. Your father stands, his creaking bones the only sound in the room. Everyone holds their breath as he speaks.

It’s detached apolitical jargon that Ellie can barely pay attention to. She thinks that if she doesn’t listen, the situation won’t become real. To her dismay, your father ends his aloof speech and presents you. Sir Williams has never felt so sober.

Ellie watches with wide eyes as you stand. She peers up at you from below the stage, and she can’t help but realize what a perfect metaphor this is. You stand above her, gilded and unobtainable, while she looks up, dreaming of what could’ve been. Of course, she’ll support any decision you make, but she’ll never be happy with it. It seems time moves gruelingly slowly as she awaits your voice. At any other moment, she’d be hanging off your every word, waiting excitedly for what you have to share next. But now, she hopes the words never come.

You open your mouth, words leaving in slow motion. She wants to close your mouth to shut you up and kiss you so hard that you never think about anyone else again. She doesn’t.

“Dearest suitors, I thank you for coming here today. Your travels are long and treacherous and your efforts do not go unnoticed. As noted by my father, I have come to a decision regarding my spouse. I am firm in my choice, as this is the most chivalrous, goodhearted, and impressive person I have met. The only person who understands me.”

Ellie is used to you switching from your formal persona to your true self, but she never gets over it. It’s you, but it’s not you. You stroll along the chancel, in thought, and Ellie takes the chance to admire everything about you as if this is the last time she’ll be able to. Posture, gait, the way you hold yourself as if you’re sure about every action. She doesn’t know you’re terrified beyond belief.

Your finger comes out to point to a suitor. The great hall inhabitants draw a collective breath, Ellie included. You drag your finger from the right side of the stage, passing over the suitors of the East, South, and West. Ellie knows where this is going. Of course, you’ll choose North. He was the obvious choice, and she couldn’t fault you for that. And suddenly, your finger passes by him.

Ellie’s mind races. What’s happening?

Your body turns, and soon, Ellie stares down your hand, furrowing her brow. Her eyes are filled with childlike hope.

“Ellie Williams, if you’ll have me?”

[borbygorlinbbqworld]

A woman weighed down so much by her P cup udders and overdue quadruplet belly that she needs to spend almost all her time in bed, pumping and being doted on and pampered by her husband.

They had been going for so long, you had essentially tuned out the sound of the breast pumps working overtime. Day and night, they did their best to keep you as empty as they could, but despite their best efforts, your massive breasts always seemed almost painfully full.

With the pregnancy of quadruplets that had somehow managed to go overdue, your mammaries had ballooned to unbelievable, mountainous proportions. You hadn't exactly started out small--you had been endowed a perfect pair of perky double Ds--but as your hormones kicked in, they hadn't stopped growing.

A P cup.

It certainly hadn't sounded like a real size, but the woman who had measured you last week had assured you it was. Yet the idea of wearing a bra, let alone of of that size, seemed impossible. Now that your milk had come in, there didn't seem to be a single moment where your breasts weren't leaking rivers.

Not to mention, the added weight of the children and breasts themselves were such a strain on your back; you could hardly get out of bed to use the bathroom, let alone imagine trying to hoist those enormous boulders up.

And every time you did manage to get out of bed, the amount of milk you leaked was absolutely ridiculous. Within five minutes, your once dry shirt was soaked, the milk running rivulets down onto your pants.

As it were, your husband was in charge of replacing the 5-gallon jugs hooked up to your breast pumps every 2 hours. You were clearly unable to work (and he had to take a pay cut to be able to work from home to take care of you), so you both had decided harvesting and selling your milk was the best way to keep food on the table. Due to the sheer amount being sold, he had been able to quit his other job, but distributing the milk in such high volumes was a full time job in and of itself.

It was such a tedious task for him, and you had to wonder if he ever got tired of it. The one time you had asked, he had just smiled, and laid down beside you. Removing the pump from your left breast, he led the teat to his mouth to suckle. It always released such orgasmic endorphins whenever he did, more so when he would whimper or moan as he nursed.

"Honestly," he answered after a full hour on the breast, "I can't wait until you deliver these kids so I can fill you with even more."

---

🐮❤️

[anantaru]

SFW VALENTINES DAY HEADCANONS ୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♡ !

⋆⑅˚₊ including diluc, thoma, kazuha, childe x gn! reader !! — ‧₊˚ ⋅ genre — ‧₊˚✧ fluff, crack, so so soft and sweet, lots of love, cuddling, kissing and all that sweet stuff ♡ ˚ ⋅ event mlist.

⋆⑅˚₊ — DILUC

to the casual eye, diluc gave the impression away to be through and through engrossed and unhurried on his preparations for valentines day to come— it's as if he had a bullet proof plan which he wanted to pursue.

over and above that, he had a habit of wanting to be the host of your celebrations, though you were cordially trying to contribute to the preparations, he had assured you that there wasn't a better way to show you how hopelessly he fell in love with you.

while, well, once you look past the facade he had built in order to fool you, in reality he has been awfully jittery as to what to do, you see, in his own opinion he wasn't the most comical person to be around with, diluc was still unsure on how he garnered you as his significant other in the first place.

sometimes he couldn't understand what made him so special.

you on the other hand did not see him as such, you didn't expect him to change as a person and never wanted him to, ever. your diluc, the man you fell in love with, was a little more reserved— aloof and tends to keep his real emotions hidden to himself and only shares such with people he deemed close to him.

valentines day for you is to be both present and transparent, though he consistently jubilated it with a grand evening fronted to your relationship and to center on what you managed to built over the last year, by the same token it's about being here, together, lastingly in love with each other.

on this fine evening, diluc would host a candle light dinner at his own big mansion, only the best of the best would be bestowed to the table and brought to view towards your person.

in the thick shadows of good beverages (no alcohol, you didn't mind since diluc himself wasn't a big fan of it) and a benevolent composition of close selected music, you had dined away matted by a closed vicinity.

though by the end of it, once the main course was over, you had chosen to take a walk around the imposing mansion, within the confines of the candied scent of afresh ripened grapes, the frigit air winging through your clothes with his large hand snugly situated on top of your lower back.

in his feeling of judgment, you were marvelous— stunning under the forthcoming moon and so very kind, he couldn't wait to spend more of his years with you by his side.

and when diluc turns towards your frame to look at you, you daintily rend him by his belt to have him nigh— he wasn't one to initiate seclusion first and you do not need him to do it, all the greater did you not mind to kiss him yourself, which you then, did.

his calm— yet stepwise inflating breathing, was vaguely lingering around your soft lips as he pulled away, complemented by a possess of his nervous puffs, he's signifying out his words more gently to you when he speaks with a humane red tint on his cheeks.

"happy valentines day, love." and when you smile, he‘s smiling too, because diluc was happy, he didn‘t need more when he had you, "and to many more valentines days to come."

⋆⑅˚₊ — THOMA

in response to thoma, he in all instances, made it a habit of alternating things up each year, effectively, he sought after making it to be as fun and appealing as achievable.

unmistakably for this year you had agreed to participate in gifting each other a present from heart, no expensive jewelry, no exorbitant dinners, no glamorous travels— with this you wanted to show your love in a more personal way. ( .. and your budget was limited)

on the topic of his idea, thoma had actively pondered and mulled about your joyous present for undeviating weeks. on a mini sheet he had written down all the urgent utensils he'd require with the intension of endowing you the most immaculate gift within the bounds of possibility.

first and foremost, he was in countless vital— no pivotal, life changing, conversations with both ayato and ayaka, to that, repeatedly, week in week out. Unmistakably, thoma was aware that he knew you the absolute most, but in spite of that it's unfailingly smart to set aside more ideas.

... well lets say ayato's were, within limits but concerning, yet ayaka genuinely assisted and supported him as much as she could.

when he finished all that, thoma started preparing the gift, the most important part.

initially, he attentively cut out an assortment of little paper sheets where he planned to keenly scribble down all the things he loved about you— doesn't matter what it was and how seemingly gratuitous it was, he put it down.

thoma's eyes were deeply fixed with a bright, earnest tone and on top of that, he now couldn't stop thinking about you, archons, despite the fact it had dreadfully deflected his attention away.

but just a little— a puny treacly thought about how you'd look at him once he's giving you the present, would you like it?

his thought process behind it was cute; given that he has been engrossed with his work at the kamisato estate for the most part, he imagined that if you were to miss him, you could always open one of the little papers and feel at least, a little bit closer to him.

he worked on it all night and by the end of it his hands were deeply hurting and tense from the— take paper, write something down, fold paper, put it in the jar.

speaking of the jar in question, because you had agreed upon spending as little mora as possible, he used an empty pot which had previously jam in it (he personally thought it's a fun little detail) and adequately cleaned it up, silently removed the cover and replaced it with a small cloth— that had a silvery red string securely embedded around it.

eventually, when valentines day idly neared its designated date, the finalized present had been given to you. With a quizzical utterance you peered at the little jar in your palms— honestly all clueless about it, but then you paid attention to thoma, thrillingly swaying in his footing from left to right, he was undoubtedly enlivened and couldn't wait for you to open it, beaming with forged anticipation.

together you were sitting on the cushy couch when you earnestly slipped the silver red string down, looking into the jar, you spoke to him when a hurried realization hit you, "isn't that jar from our kitchen?" he impatiently nods in agreement, unduly proud.

thoma was rather cute, so considerably sweet to you, you couldn't wait to spend more time with him in the future.

when you gaped into the jar, you got greeted by the engaging stickers, listlessly you progressed to take one in between your finger pads, rolling it open in front of him.

your attention was drawn towards the first out of many, 'i love you because ...' and you offered thoma a little embarrassed smile, you were glowing at the compliment, truly, your chest was bubbling with excitement as you fell into his arms, gently kissing his cheeks, once twice, before telling him just how happy he made you.

⋆⑅˚₊ — KAZUHA

what does someone do if they had immediate access to an entire ship, with a teeming fleet, geared up to be operated for their own disposal? evidently, they will use it.

as a result, kazuha had queried (and begged) for captain beidou's approval and to be of help in his personal valentines day plan for this year.

taking into account that he has been into copious amount of places beforehand, it was only natural that this time, kazuha longed to take you with him and enjoy the upcoming special day together in another nation.

while inazuma had its own assets and perquisites, kazuha had ultimately decided to chose mondstadt as your designated nation to be.

you were unquestionably delighted by the idea the second he had presented it in front of you, additionally beidou spoke her blessing to your trip and aided to your enthralling expedition as much as she possibly was able to.

the traveling on its own had been a little strenuous, those two striking nations weren't as close as you thought they were, as one would expect time was passing leisurely when you had arrived after a considerable amount of your spendings on sea.

now, well, there you were— sweetly greeted by the aroma of dandelion wine, the honeyed scent of sweets and candy with the incalculable amount of music reverberating within the broad walls of mondstadt.

while there were many absorbing shops and compelling places to explore— which you had promised each other to do after valentines day, instead you settled to visit starsnatch cliff, undeniably was it one of the most beguiling, fetching spots a myriad of pairs would find themselves in.

while most couples headed home after night fell— along with how cold it had gotten on top of the cliff, kazuha and you weren't going anywhere, not when you journeyed for such a long time.

to speak on how absorbed you were in each others intimate squeeze and how— almost cruelly, slow his lips moved on you when he decided to kiss you, had been all the more impassioned than you imaged it to be.

indisputably it had been frigit in mondstadt, said fact wasn't to be denied, but kazuha's snuggly body abstained from said irksome result.

you had been holding in your breath by how euphoric everything had become and noticed how kazuha's face was greatly dazzling in complete joy and exuberance, time was passing unusually on this night, almost magic like, but that wasn't a bad thing, it's as if the whole universe had aided you in your day.

⋆⑅˚₊ — CHILDE

in a general sense, one might come to the acute conclusion that someone as illustrious as childe himself would spend a grand chunk of mora on his valentines date with you.

in many cases, this can be the truth, however, this year was a little different from any other before.

you see, childe and you had been greatly tied up in work and as his own occupation was a serious one at that, you weren't able to visit him in another nation either way, so for some months you were not even seeing each other entirely— which was visibly frustrating in its own volition.

to say you both have missed each other tremendously has to be a boundless understatement because childe wasn't certain about how on earth he should continue on his day to day life without having you tightly wrapped in his arms at least once, perhaps twice.

in the first instances, childe wasn't sure if he should even voice the idea of, quote on quote, 'skipping' valentines day and persisting at home, maybe you were awaiting more of him and the last thing ajax wished to achieve was to lower any expectations you set for his person.

but then, in a trice, you immediately obliged and told him that it was alright with you, no questions asked, that you understood what he meant and to speak truthfully, tardily spending the day at home should be as much fun as strolling around the freezing town, if not more.

then, while a measureless amount of pairs were going out on well sought out dates and shouldered the intense cold of snezhnaya, you and childe conclusively stayed in, favoring your assemblage without hurrying.

strawberries with a shade of brilliant red were enclosed in chocolate, resting on the drawer next to your bed where you were settled in.

the subtleness of his touches on your back bristled deep into you— while also showing the slight lack of responses and heightened tiredness in your frame. And yet, you didn‘t want it any other way, after some time you realized that it must‘ve been a long time ago since you were capable to speak so carelessly without shouldering any responsibilities.

"i wish we could do this every day." childe hums and pitches his head a little to your side so he could fix his pretty eyes on you, "but then it wouldn‘t be so special." you pointed out with your response being a clear one, your cheeks were fizzed with warmth and settled in a flustering manner.

childe cherished to see you this way— so relaxed and close to him, fuck he missed you so much it almost pained him, no words could describe how much he loved you this moment, that whenever you talked, a feeling of dizzying blessedness would crane his unified frame of mind.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[lihyot-am-chofshi-beartzeinu]

I found an extract from Mein Kampf on the Yad Vashem website. One paragraph in particular stood out to me:

The Jews domination in the state seems so assured that now not only can he call himself a Jew again, but he ruthlessly admits his ultimate national and political designs. A section of his race openly owns itself to be a foreign people, yet even here they lie. For while the Zionists try to make the rest of the world believe that the national consciousness of the Jew finds its satisfaction in the creation of a Palestinian state, the Jews again slyly dupe the dumb Goyim. It doesn’t even enter their heads to build up a Jewish state in Palestine for the purpose of living there; all they want is a central organization for their international world swindle, endowed with its own sovereign rights and removed from the intervention of other states: a haven for convicted scoundrels and a university for budding crooks. - Adolf Hitler, Mein Kampf ("My Struggle"), Houghton Mifflin, New York: Hutchinson Publ. Ltd., London, 1969.

("Palestinian state" of course refers to a Jewish state in the British Mandate for Palestine, which would eventually be named Israel.)

Basically... Anti-Zionist Left 🤝Adolf Hitler.

lol. lmao even.

[ilydeku]

lie close | tanjiro x reader

"You...you want to what??!!" Exclaimed Tanjiro, his expression endowed with disbelief and an undoubtedly hint of want. You lay comfortably in your futon as he stood firmly, well not so firmly, beside you, rewinding the little request in his head that you've so suddenly wanted for. Tanjiro's not one to object to you or anything you ask of him. That being helping you practice your breathing technique, or caring for any injuries you've sustained; actually, you haven't really asked him for any favors at all. He's always been the one to come forward to you with a heartfelt smile. After all, he loves you deeply, in secrecy. But this time, it was different. You coming forward to him? This was new and profound by the light pink dusting across his cheeks.

The room resided in awkward silence, with small wisps of Zenitsu and Inosuke arguing somewhere around the Butterfly Mansion. Your eyes remained steady with his. Behind them kindled a fire, a sudden boost of confidence caving in. Was it the time of night maybe? Or the fact that you two were alone, the first ones prepared for slumber.

Your heart was beating uncontrollably fast, yet you kept a calm composure before him. Though your tenacity was unwavering, you began to wonder if this was the right move. You've carefully read the signs and ensured there weren't no dents or cracks in your lengthful friendship. The timing better be right.

"You heard me, Tanjiro," you reassured calmly, lightly pressing down the blanket on top of you. "I said I want to..sleep next to you tonight." It was almost embarrassing to convey. There was no other formal or better way to say it; snuggle, cuddle, hold you in my arms? Ughh. You prayed that he wasn't thinking about the other terminology.

"But...I already sleep with you, y/n! We all do! Zenitsu, Inosuke, and I..." He pointed to the three empty futons across the room, "...are all right here! Mine is even right next to yours! I could scoot closer if you'd like-"

"You don't get it, do you?" You sat up and took a deep breath in to prepare for the final blunt. "I want to cuddle with you, Tanjiro! I want to cuddle with you, hold you, feel you. I just want to be close to you, Tanjiro...Will you?...Just for tonight?" He couldn't believe the words that came out of your mouth. His knees gave out and plopped down in front of you. He couldn't contain the joyful smile and excitement inside of him. He was avoiding the thought on purpose, uncertain of what you were expecting. He didn't want to assume anything or something that made you uncomfortable. But now that it was made crystal clear, he lay rest assured.

"It can be tonight, tomorrow, the day after that, and forever if you'd like, y/n."

support me? :)

[tanvi-financeblogger]

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[hyvyinjie]

DESTINY.

TW! cursing, death.

angst! centric.

g. satoru x gn. reader.

DESTINY. that capricious force akin to the bittersweet conclusion of tragic fates, had long since wielded its cruel hand.

yet, amidst the delicate interplay of life and death, a singular anomaly emerged—satoru gojo—an irresistibly peculiar being adorned with gifted endowments bestowed by the very heavens themselves.

he, the self-proclaimed harbinger of destiny's blessings, carried within him a profound sense of purpose and significance.

alas, it is a lamentable truth that even the possession of such a grandiose title holds no power to rescue or shield those in need.

forlornly, we witness the bitter reality that the mere proclamation of a lofty designation cannot serve as a panacea to alleviate the trials and tribulations of others.

"don't even try closing your eyes."

young, naive and foolish. the honoured one beseeched, his countenance etched with an unmistakable worry—bereft of the customary shielding of sunglasses that customarily veiled sight of his otherworldly irises of azure.

his resplendent eyes—now bared—gleamed with a mesmerizing confluence of sentiments.

it was an unprecedented spectacle, witnessing him so palpably anxious and emotionally invested.

deep within, he harbored a profound remorse, cognizant of his inability to employ a reverse technique—that elusive skill—to aid you in this despair-induced juncture.

"shoko's on the way. she'll heal you."

"quit being so damn stubborn and listen to me."

he assured confidently, his typical arrogant utterances suffused with both conviction and hope.

yet, as he spoke—it appeared as though he inadequately grasped the gravity of your state or purposefully averted his gaze—fixating instead upon the illusory prospect of an inevitably fruitless convalescence.

no, you’re not dying.

he mindlessly repeated to himself—as if caught in an bewitching refrain that echoed ceaselessly within the chambers of his delusions.

the words—like a hypnotic melody—entwined themselves around his thoughts, weaving a tapestry of false reassurance.

in the grip of his illusions—he clung to this fragile mantra, desperately seeking solace in its rhythmic cadence.

yet, deep down, a flicker of awareness whispered of the truth obscured by his fervent repetitions.

reality—unyielding and immutable—loomed ever closer, despite his desperate attempts to stave it off with a haunting refrain.

with a blend of earnest gravity and feigned jocularity—despite the quivering timbre of his voice—he appended,

“don’t you dare die, or ill never let you live it down.”

his eyes bore into yours with an unwavering intensity that seemed to penetrate the tumult enfolding you—unveiling a vulnerability he seldom divulged to others.

in that gaze, the tenacity of his resolution and the profoundness of his connection to you became palpable—as if the burden of your well-being rested solely upon his shoulders.

“live it down, you say?..”

a desiccated chuckle escaped your lips as the wretch persisted. how imbecilic could this fool possibly become?

“satoru..”

not long after, your body convulsed with a fit of coughs triggered by the mere act of speaking, the fragility of your condition became starkly apparent.

yet, even still—it was unmistakable that he clung to denial, unabashedly rejecting the unassailable truth.

yes, you were dying—indeed, you were teetering on the precipice of demise.

there existed naught but remorse and lamentation.

"stop talking! for fucks sake, y/n—“

he inhaled a tremulous breath, as if seeking composure amidst a tempestuous tempest raging within his soul.

his eyelids clenched shut with an ardent fervor, as though he were frantically endeavoring to elude the clutches of reality in one final, desperate gambit.

“please—just..”

“just listen to me, and do as I say. please.”

with each uttered word, a sense of desolation burgeoned, casting a somber shade upon his countenance.

“y/n..”

yet, these words bore a weight surpassing mere despondency. every syllable dripped with a venomous essence, tainted by a profound self-abhorrence that seemed to turn inward.

it was as though his very voice had transformed into a conduit for self-loathing, a vessel through which frustration and disillusionment coursed.

he berated himself for completely contradicting his egoistical claims.

he despised—loathed himself.

he detested his own folly, castigating himself for what he perceived as a feeble inability to lend aid. the underlying contradiction between his self-aggrandizing proclamations and his actual capabilities stoked the fires of his self-directed animosity.

within the depths of his being, an infernal tempest raged, a battlefield of inner turmoil where he grappled with the demons of self-hate. the echoes of his own voice reverberated, seemingly magnifying the intensity of his internal strife, amplifying the magnitude of his self-loathing.

he loathed the hold you have on him, stirring up a storm of emotions within his being. the turmoil you evoked within him was a source of deep resentment.

but above all else, what he despised the most was the inexplicable extent to which he cared for you.

he despised the fact that, despite everything and anyone else, he couldn't help but like you, adore you, and ultimately choose to love you.

the intensity of his hatred stemmed from the realization that his heart had chosen a path that he had not intended to follow. he resented the vulnerability that loving you exposed within him, and the power you held over his emotions.

in the depths of his inner turmoil, he grappled with conflicting emotions. while he may have wished to resist and deny the depth of his feelings, the truth remained that his heart had made its choice, despite his best efforts to resist it.

this contradiction between his hatred for the circumstances and his genuine affection for you created a profound inner struggle, intensifying his frustrations and exacerbating the complexity of his emotions.

it frustrated him, angered him even, that his emotions had become entangled with your presence. the vulnerability that accompanied this caring, this attachment, felt like a weakness he resented.

in his innermost thoughts, he grappled with the paradox of his feelings. the profound disdain for the impact you had on him clashed with the undeniable truth that his heart held a deep and unexplainable affection for you.

it was a conflict that gnawed at his core, leaving him torn between his aversion and the undeniable pull of his care.

"oh?..what have we here...”

despite the gravity of your state, you conjured the wellsprings of fortitude to articulate phrases—effectively jolting him from his reverie, as he clung to your every word like a vital thread. each syllable echoed with a poignant cough, reverberating through the fragile contours of your agonizing form.

the inexorable verity loomed, an inescapable specter—your grievous wounds would inevitably claim your life, a harsh reality especially within the realm of sorcerers from which there was no evasion.

and so, in a hushed whisper, your voice tapering off amidst another bout of coughing, the violence of it serving as a stark reminder of your vulnerability. yet, deep within, you harbored a profound cognizance of the path that lay ahead.

"satoru gojo... of all people.”

you provocatively taunted, your words imbued with both resignation and a trace of sorrow.

in that very moment, you apprehended the cruel irony of their circumstances, the whimsical caprices of fate that had entangled their lives. the weight of your impending fate pressed upon you, and you couldn't help but ponder if it would elicit any emotions within him.

"--are you going to cry?”

with a subtle curl gracing the corner of his lips, he meticulously observed every movement, every flicker in your eyes, and every breath you took. he made a conscious effort to etch each detail into the recesses of his memory. It seemed as though you possessed an uncanny ability to perceive his emotions with remarkable clarity, despite his best efforts to conceal them.

however, as his expression shifted to one of solemnity, a faint trace of melancholy colored his features.

the question you posed had struck a deeply personal chord within him, one he never anticipated having to confront.

your words resonated within the sixteen-year old male, his unwavering gaze fixed upon yours. a sense of anguish mingled with the realization that you, y/n, had seen through him like an open book.

unable to suppress the tears that welled up in his eyes, he swiftly brushed them away, striving to maintain a composed facade.

"no, of course not.”

his response emerged, delivered with the expected composure and confidence. yet, a glimmer in his eyes betrayed the facade, hinting at an inner turmoil that consumed him.

the conflicting emotions etched upon his countenance, the raw sorrow intertwined with resolute determination, were familiar sights you had come to recognize during your time together.

at the very least, he had been stirred by the irony of the situation. but what lay beneath the surface?

his lips curved into a solemn smile, though his eyes conveyed a different tale altogether.

he couldn't help but smirk slightly in response to your teasing, his unwavering irises never once straying from your perfect ones. how dare you utter such words...

you managed to elicit a smile from him, causing his typically smug facade to momentarily contort into a faint frown, though his expression swiftly returned to its customary coolness.

the gravity of your condition had not escaped the impact it had on the sorcerer standing before you. however, it appeared that the full severity of the situation seemingly had yet to fully dawn upon his young fellow. and with mere moments remaining before your impending demise...

"me? cry—over you? what a joke.”

he retorted, pausing momentarily. his smirk faltered—as if on the precipice of speaking with a tone devoid of jest—as if the barriers he had erected had momentarily crumbled.

"do not flatter yourself. tears may suite me, but I don’t need that amplifying my perfection.”

regardless, his voice remained low and harsh, devoid of the usual playful edge and trademark amusement that characterized his interactions with you.

though the expression in his eyes remained unaltered, a certain stiffness was evident in his speech, as if he were still uncertain where else to direct his overwhelming thoughts and emotions.

as he continued to observe you, a solemnity settled over his previously neutral features. you could sense his burgeoning grief, his thoughts racing against the inexorable passage of time, yearning desperately for even the faintest glimpse of a solution.

his response was a feeble attempt to mask his emotions, his voice quivering, and his eyes still shimmering with unshed tears.

though his words denied it, his body language spoke volumes.

his pretty cerulean irises glistened with unshed tears, his heart pounding in his chest. he had anticipated her demise for far too long, believing he had grown accustomed to it, deeming it an inevitable outcome.

but now, as your final breaths escaped your lungs, the weight of your departure struck him with the force of a thousand bricks, reality seeping in for the first time. he had failed. his overwhelming pride and hubris had blinded him to the possibility of defeat. he had failed his long-time peer—his classmate, his friend.

the weight of failure bore heavily upon him, for he believed he had let down the one person who held the most profound place in his heart—the one he cherished above all others romantically, the soul he held dear.

the depth of his love for you only amplified the agony of his perceived failure. he blamed himself for not meeting the expectations he had set, for not being able to provide the happiness and fulfillment you deserved. the pain of falling short in your gaze was an unbearable burden he carried—leaving him haunted by the knowledge that he had failed the one person who truly held his heart.

"...yes, i am going to cry, you idiot."

contrary to his perception, it was not you who struggled to accept your fate, but rather, it was he who clung to seemingly everlasting denial.

while he grappled with the reality of the situation, you had long since come to terms with the inevitable outcome. you had made peace with the circumstances that destiny had dealt, finding solace in the acceptance of what lay ahead.

the dichotomy between your acceptance and his denial created a rift, deepening the emotional chasm between you.

despite your readiness to face the truth, he remained entrenched in a state of refusal, unable to confront the impending reality.

the exquisite interplay of sentiments, wherein the embrace of acceptance magnified the enigmatic dance between your emotional odysseys, illuminated the paradoxical tapestry of contradictory.

eager to traverse the expanse, he yearned to forge a bridge, yet were ensnared by the magnetic allure of diverging destinies—proximity rendered illusory, a poignant dance of nearness and seeming remoteness.

while your hearts may have harmonized in tempo, the dissonant discord into the fabric of your emotional realms served as a haunting refrain, a vivid reflection to the divergent trajectories of your conclusions.

if only the revered one possessed the authority to sculpt fate with a touch of influence, weaving threads of destiny like a master artisan shaping the sinuous hell of time.

[evillemons]

Which BTS members have the largest dick

I was contemplating whether to post this one or not because it feels almost too invasive, but I think I already crossed that ethical bridge when I made this account. As always, it's all in good fun and never meant to be taken seriously. In order from biggest to smallest. Masterlist here.

*NSFW content*

1. Jin - THE king sized Kim Seokjin. Jin's dick size is equivalent to his shoulder size: uncannily (but not unpleasantly) large. I don't believe for a second that his XL condom scandal was "a prank gift from a fan." He was probably dating someone at the time and it was his personal stash. His endowment is made all the better by the fact that he's so modest and shy - I bet his girlfriends are pleasantly surprised and well-satisfied.

2. V - Leaning towards more average in length, but gifted in the girth department. Like, to the point where it might make his girlfriend sore when they first start having sex. He's pretty damn proud of it too - he directly correlates dick size with being good in bed, which reflects via his sexual confidence.

3. RM - The definition of big dick energy. Namjoon is very confident and self-assured and has nothing he feels the need to compensate for... including his package. He's also a naturally big and tall man, so it's likely on the larger than average size by default. He never has to worry about whether or not he will fill up his woman enough, because he's probably perfectly proportionate and the size of every woman's dreams.

4. j-hope - Relatively average, and the opposite of Taehyung. A little more on the thinner side, but compensated for in length. Still a very satisfying dick that would make a woman happy, especially for those who have a preference for length. And like Jungkook, he has excellent groin strength and knows how to use it well. Might be a hair crooked.

5. Jungkook - Average all around. Not bad by any means, and even if he did lack in size for someone's preference, he would sure as hell be able to make up for it with technique. I imagine it being very aesthetically pleasing too (as in just the right color and shape), just like the rest of him.

6. Jimin - Smaller than average in girth and in length, but proportionate to his body. Nothing extraordinary, but nothing bad either. It would definitely be enough to get the job done and satisfy his partner. He also probably doesn't care or think about it much unless someone were to comment on it.

7. SUGA - I love the fantasy of tiny Yoongi having a shockingly big dick, but if I'm being realistic in my analysis I do think his would be the smallest all around. Only slightly below average in length, but quite thin. Not that a petite man can't have a large penis, but I do think Yoongi's would mirror the rather slim nature of his body. Large balls though.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Confidence Booster

You get advice from Aphrodite on how to feel more self-confident in yourself and get a new outfit, but your lover is quick to assure you otherwise that you have no reason to feel self-conscious.

It had been a rough couple of weeks on your confidence, once again, swimsuit season was upon you, girls wearing bikinis and more risqué looking swimsuits, men ogling, and for flat chested girls like you, it was the envious time of year. You had been feeling a bit shy around your lover, feeling inadequate; he had noticed your change in mood and the slight change in your wardrobe, where you were wearing looser tops, ones that hid your figure a bit more, on top at least. Aphrodite was the one who actually approached you, having also seen the change in your demeanor and had seen your envious looks at her and other, more endowed, women. She wasn’t cruel or teasing in anyway and actually gave me some great words of wisdom that the sexiest thing on women was confidence. If a woman was comfortable in a swimsuit, the air of confidence is what gets men to look at her, not just the half-naked body. She told you to get some clothes, a new outfit that would make you feel confident and to wear it around your lover and see his reaction. You were a bit hesitant at first but wanted to try anything that would help, and you immediately went out shopping.

According to the ladies in the shop, this dress had been dubbed the Virgin Killer Dress, which was a bit intimidating, but once you had it on, you felt so naughty, but at the same time, exhilarated, something deep inside you swelling up and you instantly bought it. Once home, you tried it on again, looking at yourself in the floor length mirror you had in your bedroom, a faint blush on your cheeks but a smile on your lips. You felt so pretty and sexy! For the first time in weeks, you felt confident about your looks, twirling in front of the mirror, before you beamed, your hands on your hips before they smoothed across your belly, feeling the soft fabric, “I wonder what he’ll think about this dress.” Your bedroom door opened, and you turned, eyes wide as your eyes met his own.

-Buddha- He blinked once, then twice, eyes wide, seeing the dress on your thin body, swallowing hard as he saw that your back was bare before his eyes went back to your face that was bright red. You weren’t ready to show him this dress just yet, not mentally prepared, but obviously he was as he quickly entered, stalking towards you. You squeaked, stepping back towards your closet and his hands slammed down on either side of your head, pinning you to the closet door as you looked up at him. His eyes were blown wide, and steam seemed to be coming from his mouth as he smirked, his bright eyes looking at you, over the top of his glasses, “I know we made plans to go out, but I think we’re going to stay here instead.” His wild, almost feral look made your own body grow hot as your breath hitched, his hands going to your shoulders, sliding down your bare back as he pulled you closer, a soft whine escaping you before his hands slid forward, pulling the dress so your chest was exposed, the dress bunched in the middle. He licked his lips like you were one the tastiest treats he had ever seen before he kneeled, grabbing your right thigh before hiking it up over his shoulder as his other hand, his nails, scratched gently down your body from your shoulder, over one of your nipples, making you jolt slightly as he grinned up at you, eyes bright, “I’m going to devour you!” Needless to say, he liked the dress and requested you to wear it more often.

-Hercules- He turned white in shock, eyes wide and jaw dropped, seeing you standing there in such an outfit. Your breath hitched as you faced him, your hands coming up to your chest and he saw the skin of your exposed back in the mirror. You turned a bit shy, seeing his reaction, quietly pondering if he liked it or not, twirling a piece of hair around your index finger, “Do- do you like it?” his shocked façade quickly dropped as he stood up straight, making it look like he was towering over you, shadows covering the top part of his face, but you could see the red glints of his eyes. You felt like a rabbit staring at a lion, as a little squeak escaped your lips. You took a step back and tripped over the shirt you had been wearing earlier, falling back and he froze, seeing a pair of pale pink panties now on full display and instantly he lunged, pinning you to the ground. You didn’t see this side of Hercules very often, as he was usually sweet and gentle around you, but you weren’t complaining as his hands grabbed your hips, moving so his hips were between your legs as he seemed to leer down at you, “I’m not going to be gentle- not today. Not while you look like this.” the smile on your lips betrayed your blush as he could see that you were happy with his reaction as you grabbed the front of his shirt, batting your eyes demurely up at him as he was quick to descend down onto you.

-Poseidon- He folded his arms under his own chest, an eyebrow rising as he took in the outfit you were wearing. It was rather alluring, almost naughty. He approached with a small sound leaving him, one you couldn’t place as he circled you like a stalking shark, looking at your body, making you feel a bit shy. He saw that you were nervous and grabbed your chin, his grip firm but not hurting as he made you look up at him, “Is this what you and Aphrodite were talking about?” You glanced away for a moment as his hand dropped from your chin, moving instead to your shoulder, circling again, his hand trailing down your bare back slowly. The more he saw the more he grew closer to jumping your bones as you answered him, “She told me to get something that makes me feel confident in myself.” Your words surprised him, as your felt his hand still, only for a moment, before he embraced you from behind, one hand sliding across your lower belly to grip the opposite hip while the other trailed up your body to your neck, giving it a soft squeeze, meant to get your attention. He turned you both so you were staring at the mirror, the hand on my hip lowering to grab the end of the dress, pulling it up so he could see the pale blue panties you were wearing, his favorite pair. He hummed softly into your neck before pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder, “I need to show you how sexy you are then, so you never doubt yourself again.” Your breath hitched as he sat down on top of the kotatsu in your room, making you sit on his lap, your legs over his, holding you open so he could see everything in the mirror as he let out a small growl, his hand lowering from your neck and down to your hips.

-Hades- He was on you in almost an instant, pinning you to the closet door, one hand pinning both of your wrists above your head while the other was cupping your cheek, one leg slid between your own, forcing them apart. You were surprised by his forwardness as his eyes seemed to burn into your own, a dark smirk appearing on his lips as his tongue poked out to lick them, “My-my, such a provocative outfit, my little rabbit. Was this what you were talking to Aphrodite about~ to learn how to seduce me?” You couldn’t help but stammering, face flushed which made his grin widen before you looked away, a bit shy before you gave a soft nod, “She gave me advice on what to do to be more confident in myself.” This made him pause, his hand releasing your wrists, moving to your waist to hug you to him as the other cupped your cheek, “Confident in yourself? Did something happen that made you question your beauty?” Your eyes avoided his own, a silent tell for not wanting to talk as your hands gripped his shirt, “My… are you okay that-that my chest is tiny?” The question made him pause before he chuckled softly, grinding his thigh up into your crotch, making your breath hitch slightly but it got your attention back on him, eyes wide, “My silly little rabbit~ your small chest adds to your charm, I can’t see you any other way, but if you need a confidence booster. I’m happy to oblige to show you what you do to me.” his voice dropped in tone, making your voice hitch as his hands were quick to catch yours again, pinning you down once more.

-Loki- He let out a low whistle, looking at you up and down as he approached quickly, taking one hand in his, making you twirl for him, “My-my-my, what a delightful looking outfit~ not really appropriate for what we had planned.” You had made plans to go out together, but he wasn’t supposed to be there for another hour or so. He backed you to your bed, making you sit before he crawled onto the bed to hang over you, forcing you to your back, his knees on either side of your hips as he grinned like he was going to get a special present, “Or was that your plan all along, to seduce me in staying home and making me ravage you for hours?” steam was coming off your face and head from how hard you were blushing, but he relished each shade you turned, as teasing you and getting you riled up was one of his favorite things to do. However, seeing you in such an outfit, and hearing your words questioning if he would like it, made him feel so warm and happy inside, that you did this just for him. He licked his lips again, his eyes narrowing as his hands went to your bed on either side of your head, lowering to where your noses were barely touching, “Not that I’m not happy about seeing you in such an outfit, you don’t have to try very hard to seduce me, Y/N. You could just wink at me, and I’d be more than happy to rail you into the bed.” You let out a squeak which made him grin which grew as a smile appeared on your lips. You had no idea that he was going to like it this much, turning your head a bit bashfully to the side, “But I bought two more in different colors, do you want me to not wear them?” like electricity was in his eyes he seemed to snap, and he pounced with a grin, relishing the delighted squeal you gave him.

-Odin- His dear ravens had reported to their master about what Aphrodite and you had spoken about, it annoyed the Norse god that the Greek goddess was giving you advice that you didn’t need. You were stunning to him, but to hear that you were feeling bad about yourself helped him make his decision that he needed to show you that you didn’t need Aphrodite’s advice. However, standing in the doorway to your bedroom, seeing you in such an outfit, just for him, after he had heard your words, he looked like a wolf ready to pounce, a smirk appearing on his lips and a glint in his eye. You felt a bit embarrassed being caught, as you weren’t ready to show him the dress just yet; you wanted to leap into your closet to get dressed and he noticed the movement and he spoke, “Come here.” You tensed only slightly at his command, recognizing the tone, and you felt your cheeks warming as you approached, your hands up by your chest, feeling a bit shy under his gaze. He leered down at you, “Turn around, show me your dress.” You turned, showing him your bare back in the low-cut dress. He kept having you turn, showing him the different angles of the dress, holding your arms up so he could see the sides. You felt yourself getting hot just by the way he was leering at you, a hungry look in his eye. He pointed to the kotatsu you kept in your room, giving you another command, “Sit and face me.” You did as you were told, sitting on the edge of the kotatsu, facing him as he kneeled, pulling his hair back into a ponytail, “Spread your legs.” Your breath hitched which made him smirk up at you before you followed his instructions. He grabbed one of your ankles before pressing a soft kiss to your calf, “I need to reward the gift you have presented me with.” His other hand slid up your other leg, up to your thigh as he pressed kisses to your other leg, slowly trailing up, keeping his eye locked with yours.

-Kojiro- He instantly turned, a blush on his face, “I’m sorry for walking in on you! I should have knocked!” he had a hand to his face, to keep him from looking at you, but he wanted nothing more to look again and again and never look away. He wasn’t prepared to have your hands grab onto his shirt, making him freeze as you spoke, “I-I wanted to wear this for you, Kojiro. Do you like it?” he turned back, hearing your words, you looked so precious, so innocent, looking up at him, but the outfit that clung to your body made him betray himself as his hands met your hips, before he froze again, feeling your bare back, and he pulled away. You turned, showing him the back of the dress and he slowly felt himself slipping as you continued to act shy, asking him if he liked it. Kojiro snapped as you twirled, flashing a bit of your pink panties and almost instantly he was on top of you, having easily taken you to the ground, one of his large hands pinning your own above your head, making your spine arch a bit, your chest sticking up. He smirked down at you, a feral, wild look in his eyes, “You are playing a dangerous game, Y/N, tempting me like this.” You squeaked cutely before you spoke, looking away, “I wanted to be more confident before I showed it to you.” His free hand cupped the back of your leg, squeezing the fat of your thigh just a bit as he pulled it up around his hip, grinding down into your core which caused a moan to rip from your throat, “Confident you say? Do you feel confident when I’m reacting like this?” You didn’t answer, panting softly and he bucked again, “Answer me!” a breathy moan was his answer as you tried to get your hands free, wanting to touch him. He chuckled softly, his eyes flashing brightly down at you, “Guess I’ll need to prove this to you, so you never have to question your confidence again. Now your endurance, I’ll have you questioning that very quickly.” He grinded again, making another moan tear from your throat as he finally attacked.

-Jack- He was frozen in the doorway, eyes wide as he took in your form in the dress, which barely covered anything, his heart rate slowly increasing. Your inner colors told him you were embarrassed but also happy, seeing him in shock, and what made him snap out of his trance that you put him in, was arousal. You were getting excited about the way he was looking at you. He chuckled softly, loosening his tie around his neck before rolling his sleeves up, as he had removed his hat and coat at the front door, “My dear, you look absolutely delightful wearing such an alluring dress, all for me if I’m to assume?” You nodded softly, a smile appearing, “I did, do you like it?” before you gave a dainty twirl, making his throat clench only slightly before he swallowed hard, his tongue coming out to lick his lips. He lowered his stance only slightly, confusing you as his mismatched eyes met my own, “Make me work for my treat. Run.” He lunged at you, and you were quick to dodge, a squeal leaving your lips as you ran out of the room and he gave chase, finding the hunt sometimes more exhilarating than the reward. This chasing game was nothing new for Jack, it got your blood pumping and made it feel so much naughtier once he caught you, but it felt particularly risqué today, seeing your bare back just out of his grasp. You rounded a corner into the living room, and he tackled you onto the large sofa, a squeal leaving your lips. He sat up while pinning your hands down before he froze, seeing that your sweater had been pulled down a bit, revealing your nipples on either side and he chuckled darkly, lower his head, you could feel the hot puffs of air he was releasing on your lips, “Now then~ what should I enjoy first, hmm?” You let out a small moan at his words, the sound shooting from his brain to his crotch instantly, a groan leaving his own lips.

-Huang- He leaned against the doorway, a smile on his face as he took in your body, “Ooh~ how lovely. Of course, I love it.” the smile on your lips made his heart warm as he stood straight, approaching you, looking almost like a tiger stalking towards its prey. He smirked, seeing you take a step back as his eyes flashed, chuckling darkly, “Ah-ah, no running away~ you’re the one who seduced me, little rabbit. If you run, I’ll have no choice but to chase~” As tempting as that sounded, as you’ve done it before, you hesitated, allowing his arms to hug you to his warm body. He hummed in delight, feeling your bare back and he looked to the mirror, a feral smirk appearing, seeing the naked skin. His hands began to stroke your back, mapping out patterns as his lips met your cheek, peppering it with soft kisses, moving around your face, ignoring your lips as his hands drifted lower, rubbing your hips before he felt the band of your panties. His lips finally met yours, almost ravenously, forcing his tongue into your mouth to play; a tiny moan escaped you and he instantly moved his hands down, leaning over to cup your thighs, pulling you up easily so your legs wrapped around his hips. He was quick to pin you to the bed, looming over you, his hands stroking down your thighs, forcing the dress up a bit before he pulled back, panting softly, seeing the red panties hugging your hips. He smirked, his hands coming to your hips and rubbing upwards, his thumbs finding your nipples behind my dress, making you whine softly as he focused in on your nipples, rubbing the fabric of the dress against them, “I enjoy seeing you completely bare when I make you mine, but I think I’ll make an exception for this dress, since it was all just for me.” You gave him a small smile, happy that he liked your surprise, even though you weren’t ready to show him just yet, as his hands trailed down your body again.

[homielander]

the most interesting character detail about maeve through which i have extrapolated at least half my understanding of her is that she prefers to be called maeve. i frequently see "maggie" pop up in meta and fic as her chosen name, but quite literally nobody calls her that, including (and most significantly) elena. elena is maeve's tether to her humanity and her refuge away from vought, yet even elena only ever refers to her as maeve. (and in season 2, we learn that maeve started dating elena before she joined the seven -- before queen maeve's popularity would have become so inescapable that she would feel compelled to introduce herself by that name.) it's especially notable that in her final scene, maeve refers to starlight as annie for only the second time, but she is still called maeve by both annie and elena.

here's what we know about maeve's life as maggie: she had a rocky relationship with her father whom she doesn't seem to speak to anymore, she's from a "cousin-fucker hick town" as described by homelander -- i can't imagine this place being terribly lgbt-friendly, and she generally lacks connection with anyone she would have known before becoming queen maeve. she doesn't have fond memories of this time of her life, and perhaps that extends to all associations with it, including the name maggie.

i tend to think that becoming queen maeve was, in many ways, self-actualizing for her. the act that garners her national attention and earns her a ticket to vought is a heroic one -- she breaks every single bone in her right arm to save a school bus from falling off a bridge. and i know madelyn says she is responsible for the mythos of queen maeve, but this character was still aspirational, and likely someone maeve wanted to live up to. in any case, this new identity gave her a purpose and tools to achieve it: she wanted to help people! by her own admission, maeve enters vought bright-eyed and hopeful, not far off from annie. (maeve is also one of the only supes in the seven not to know about compound v -- she doesn't strike me as religious but believing she's among the very few born with powers would have strengthened her internal drive to be a hero.)

it's for the same reason that i think maeve actually... liked having powers? of course she says otherwise in her last season, but season 3 maeve is cynical and weary from about two decades of dealing with vought and homelander's abuse. they've used her first as the token woman and then the token gay person of the seven. after growing largely passive to the brutality of the job, the flight 37 incident forces her to confront all of the violence she's witnessed and tolerated. she's given pieces of herself away and she loathes the husk of herself that's left. i don't find it surprising that she would want to relinquish every single connection to vought, including her powers.

assuring herself that she will be better off without her powers comes with an added benefit: she gets to distinguish herself from homelander, who would be lost without his powers. and i think she is eager to make this distinction in her mind because there are some uncomfortable similarities between their initiations into vought. the mantle of homelander allows him to exert agency for the first time in his life, just as the mantle of queen maeve endows her with purpose for the first time in hers. (crucially, none of his current circle call him john, either.) they both enjoy being the most powerful superheroes in the world, the unending public adoration, and (in my interpretation) each other. they're also both overwhelmingly lonely and they know it -- homelander teases her multiple times about how she has no friends with a bit more bite in every passing season, while maeve is keenly aware of his isolation and exploits his yearning for love pretty effectively.

maeve steadily grows disillusioned with her position at vought because she still has a moral code, suppressed though it may be. even so, she nearly relents to homelander's vision: that they will be lonely at the top but lonely together. she's pulled out of her miserable state of inaction by annie and elena. annie reminds her of what a hero should be (what she was, once); elena offers her a way out of vought, serving as maeve's light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak.

she escapes that tower as maeve, not maggie. she rejects homelander's god complex which engenders his cruelty towards regular people and 'lesser' supes -- no one will call her queen maeve ever again, at least -- but it is still important to her to be a hero, and for better or for worse, she found that as maeve. i feel like she'd struggle to exist without her powers (possibly the self-awareness hasn't settled in yet) for all the reasons mentioned above. i like to think that eventually, she'll circle around to helping people and resisting vought however possible -- albeit on a smaller, more covert scale so she can continue living a peaceful life with elena.