#i just found myself getting frustrated over and over again

[mrsstan21]

I Got You

GIF Credit: @fockers-archive

Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: we’re about two months into the new year and they have been the most challenging for me. I wrote this as a way to help make myself feel better and it really did. I hope you all enjoy! And no I didn’t proof read.

Warning: mild angst, mental health challenges, but mainly an amazing boyfriend who’s there for you when you need them most.

Life stresses were the main cause to your emotional turmoil lately. Work had become more stressful, family issues were flaring up, and slowly your mental health was deteriorating. When you were able to be alone, that’s when you broke down completely. Because breaking down in front of others never felt acceptable.

Today was no different, after coming home from yet another stressor of the day, you found yourself trying to start dinner. The task at hand was suddenly more difficult than usual. While you tried to prepare everything, your mind would not shut off. Thoughts from different aspects of your life clouded your mind causing you to feel overwhelmed.

You accidentally forgot to turn down the heat and the water from the pot overflowed. Cursing at yourself you turned off the stove, but heard a loud clatter from behind. Apparently Alpine thought it was a good idea to jump on the counter and swat everything to the floor.

“Alpine!” You didn’t yell at the white fluff ball, but were getting more frustrated by the minute.

As you tried to pick everything up, your phone rang and it was your mother. Acting on impulse you answered and it was a huge mistake. What your mother would classify as “simple chit chat with your daughter” was in reality her dumping all her issues onto you.

“Mom I know you are going through some stuff but it’s been a really tough day and I need to finish dinner”.

You were gentle, but she wasn’t. It was another 10 minutes of her back lashing you before you could hang up. There was that tightness in your throat again and that pressure behind your eyes. Even though you were alone, you didn’t allow yourself to feel anything. You just couldn’t, you needed to be strong.

After taking a deep breath you decided to get a glass of water.

Which turned into the breaking point for you.

After pouring yourself a glass, you were reaching over to grab something when the glass tips over and spills onto the counter.

That was it. Afterwards the tears slowly but gradually began flowing and you sunk to the floor.

You felt as if you could never catch a break and something always has to happen. You felt as if you were suffocating and there was no end to this rut you found yourself in.

With you head in your knees, you felt the touch of cool metal on your arm. Looking up through blurry vision you found a pair of blue eyes staring back at you.

Those eyes that you can stare into for hours. Eyes that make everything else around disappear. And that was the mission of their owners.

Bucky didn’t need to say much in the moment. He was concerned as to why his best girl was balling her eyes out on the kitchen floor, but understood at the same time. He admired your self resilience as it was one of the reasons why he fell in love with you. He was aware of the way you kept your head up when things got tough. He loved that you were a natural go-getter and powered through situations all on your own.

But at the same time, he wished you would let him help. Your independence tended to get the best of you at times, and as much as he’s expressed that he was there to help. You were stubborn. Another reason why he loves you.

You didn’t need to explain what happened, he knows. Bucky flashed you a small smile, while he creased your cheek and wiping away the tears that managed to escape. No words were exchanged as he slowly helped you up, and there was no need. For a small moment you looked up to him, those eyes again silently asked what you needed.

You closed the small gap between you and wrapped your arms around his frame. He engulfed you securing you into his embrace. Your head rested perfectly on his broad, solid chest where you could hear the rhythm of his heart. There you two stood for how ever long it took, and you let the tears flow once again.

Bucky never judged you, and that’s something you loved most about the man who was currently holding you. Because with him you didn’t need to be strong all the time. You didn’t need to be perfect or put up a force of strength. No, when you are with Bucky you can be vulnerable and feel safe to do so. Because with him you feel all the burdens you face just wash away like the sea retreating from its shore.

Bucky was your sea, his hugs and gestures were the calm, soothing waves bringing you back down to touch the sand. And that’s something you appreciate more than anything else.

Not too long has passed and you found yourself grounded. He doesn’t say anything while he carries you to your shared bedroom where he gently lays you on the cool sheets.

By this time your body and mind are exhausted, but at the same time you find yourself much more relaxed. With a kiss to your forehead and nose, he drapes a blanket over you. And you are whisked away into a deep slumber.

Bucky watches you as he retreats from the room. You were finally resting, and now it was his responsibility to ease your worries as best as he could.

He managed to clean up the kitchen and make your favorite meal. He organized the apartment, feed Alpine, did the laundry and prepared lunch for you to take tomorrow.

When you woke up from that must needed nap and saw all the things Bucky had done, you felt like your heart was going to burst. It was those small acts of service that meant the world to you. And for Bucky, he would do anything to help alleviate your worries, because that’s what you do when you love someone. Just as he loves you.

After dinner, you found yourself back in Bucky’s arms and him holding you. There were a million things you wanted to say to him, but didn’t know where to start.

When you faced each other once again, your mind suddenly slowed down. Leaning in, you allowed your lips to touch his. Bucky didn’t hesitate returning the favor, and made sure to tell you all he felt in that moment.

When you two broke away, you found yourself staring once again.

“Thank you” a small whispered escaped from your lips.

He smiled.

“I got you”.

And you knew he always would.

[s4svnn]

Out of bounds . JJK

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; his love subjected you to the true extent of deception, a merciless lie wrapped in the illusion of paradise, until the truth tore it apart - he was always out of bounds.

↳ Jungkook x reader

↳ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: ongoing

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Chapter Thirty Eight

I groaned as I shifted in the bed, my head pounding in a relentless rhythm that felt like it was drilling into my skull. The weight of last night’s decisions hit me all at once, each pulse of pain making the memories more vivid, but also more elusive. It was as if I could almost piece everything together, the laughter and the music and the overwhelming rush of being caught in the chaos of it all, but then it would all slip away, leaving nothing but the thick fog of my hangover. My stomach churned in response, a sickening reminder of the alcohol, of how much I’d consumed without a thought or care.

I turned over, groaning again, trying to find a more comfortable position, but that only made it worse. My head felt like it was full of cotton, my thoughts sluggish and tangled. I rubbed my temples in a desperate attempt to quell the pounding, wishing I could just turn back time, if only to make a few different choices. I muttered under my breath, my voice hoarse from the aftermath of too many shots and too many reckless decisions, "Why the fuck did I drink so much?"

The words felt weak, as though my body wasn’t even willing to acknowledge the regret that followed them. My fingers pressed against my forehead, the motion more out of instinct than thought, as I tried to collect myself. The sick feeling that had settled low in my stomach refused to subside, threatening to make its presence known again, but I clenched my jaw, pushing it back, hoping the wave would pass.

It was at that exact moment that my phone buzzed on the nightstand, the noise slicing through the thick, foggy air. I blinked, suddenly more aware of my surroundings. This wasn’t Kayla’s place. The room, the sheets, the faint scent of unfamiliar cologne—they were all wrong. My heart rate spiked in panic, and for a few moments, everything felt surreal, like I was watching myself from outside my own body. Where the hell was I?

Frantically, I reached for my phone, my fingers trembling as I fumbled with the screen. As it lit up, I immediately saw a stream of notifications—missed calls, texts, a deluge of messages from AJ. I scrolled through them, my stomach turning as the realization hit me.

“Where are you? You okay?” “I’ve been trying to reach you, it’s been hours.” “Call me back now. I’m getting worried.”

Each message felt heavier than the last, and I swallowed hard, trying to push down the unease rising in my chest. With shaky hands, I pressed the screen to my ear and waited, each ring causing a knot in my stomach to tighten further. When AJ finally picked up, her voice came through sharp and frantic.

"Where the fuck were you?" she demanded, the frustration clear in every syllable. "I called like ten times! Why didn’t you pick up?"

I winced, my face flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and guilt. "Sorry," I muttered, the words coming out hoarse. "I... I was sleeping. I didn’t hear my phone."

There was a brief, sharp silence on the other end of the line before AJ responded, her tone still laced with concern. "Are you okay though?"

I glanced around the unfamiliar room again, feeling the panic crawl back up my spine. "Yeah I am but where are you?" I asked, trying to make sense of the situation. I needed something familiar, something to ground me in reality.

"I’m at home," AJ replied, the tension easing in her voice. "Damian hauled us from the club and brought us home."

A sudden, sharp sense of relief washed over me as I sank back against the pillows, letting out a shaky breath. "Wait, Damian?" I repeated, my mind sluggishly trying to catch up.

"Yeah," she continued, her voice softening. "He’s here to visit for a bit and thank god he found us. You were gone, and we didn’t know what happened to you, but he made sure we all got home safely."

I let my head fall back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. "Thank god," I muttered under my breath, my voice thick with gratitude. "I’m just glad you’re okay."

There was a pause on the line before Kayla’s voice piped up in the background, her voice gentle. "How’s the aftermath treating you?"

I let out a long sigh, rubbing my forehead as I tried to focus through the haze of my headache. "Apart from the killer headache and the sickening feeling in my stomach, I’ll survive," I answered, my voice a bit more steady now, though still rough around the edges.

"Good," Kayla replied. "Damian’s friend helped you out, right? He’s a lifesaver."

"Damian’s friend?" I repeated, my brain struggling to process her words.

"Yeah," she confirmed, sounding a little amused. "Damian said his friend took you to the hotel they’re both staying at since you didn’t have your keys, and you wouldn’t tell him my address."

I froze, the weight of the situation sinking in, and my face flushed with a wave of embarrassment. "Oh my god," I muttered, feeling like an absolute idiot. "I’m such an idiot."

Kayla’s laugh was light and reassuring, a sound that made the tension in my chest ease just a fraction. "Don’t worry about it," she said, the teasing tone in her voice impossible to miss. "Just make sure you apologize to the poor guy before you leave. I’m sure he didn’t expect to be dragged into all this drama."

I groaned, but I couldn’t help the small chuckle that slipped out. "Yeah, I definitely will. I’ll see you in a bit."

"Cool," Kayla replied, her voice fading as she added, "See you later."

I dropped the phone down onto the bed beside me, staring at the ceiling as I let everything sink in. The urge to throw up hit me again, much stronger this time, and I quickly grabbed the waste bin sitting conveniently by the bed. The moment I did, everything came rushing up in a violent wave, and I emptied the contents of my stomach, not caring that I had no idea what I was even expelling.

But before I could even breathe again, I heard footsteps approaching—slow, measured. I froze, my heart skipping a beat. I looked up, expecting to see anyone but who I saw standing there in the doorway of the bathroom.

My eyes went wide with disbelief, and I felt my breath catch in my throat as I stared at Jungkook, the shock and confusion momentarily overtaking everything else. "What the fuck?" I blurted out before I could stop myself, the words coming out harsh and unfiltered. My body felt like it was about to betray me again, but I couldn’t make sense of anything anymore.

Jungkook took a step closer to the bed, his gaze soft but concerned. "Hey," he said, his voice low and calm, as if testing the waters. "You okay?"

I blinked at him, the fog in my brain not quite lifting as quickly as I’d hoped. My body felt heavy, and I was still trying to piece together everything that had happened. Slowly, my mind started to catch up, the pieces clicking into place, and suddenly it hit me—he was the one Damian had mentioned. "Wait," I muttered, my head still spinning as I looked him over. "You’re the friend Damian said helped me?"

Jungkook gave a nervous chuckle, his hand moving to the back of his neck as if he were unsure whether to be amused or uncomfortable. "Yeah," he said, a hint of awkwardness creeping into his voice. "You were pretty wasted."

I felt my stomach tighten again, this time with a surge of frustration and embarrassment. I closed my eyes and rubbed my face, putting my hands over my eyes as I leaned back against the pillows. "Of all the people in the world," I muttered, my voice muffled by my palms, "why you?"

Jungkook’s laughter was soft, but there was a real edge to it, like he was caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief. "I keep wondering that too," he replied, his tone playful. "Maybe it’s fate."

I let out a low sigh, the words slipping from my lips before I could stop them. "What a shit fate," I murmured, shaking my head slightly, the weight of everything hitting me again.

He chuckled again, clearly finding some humor in the situation. "Well, you should take some medicine," he suggested, his voice turning a bit more serious. "Your head’s going to hurt for a while, trust me."

The bitterness in my stomach rose again, and I couldn’t help the sarcastic response that came out. I shot him a look and spat out, "Like you care."

Jungkook sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. "If I didn’t care," he said quietly, but firmly, "I would've just left you out there singing on the streets." His eyes held mine for  moment, as if waiting for me to say something, but I didn’t.

I opened my mouth, ready to retort, but the words died on my tongue before they could leave my lips. Instead, I reached over to the nightstand, my movements slow and clumsy, my body resisting the effort. My fingers brushed against the familiar shape of the pill bottle and water bottle. I grabbed both with a trembling hand, quickly uncapping the bottle and swallowing the medicine in a rush, followed by a few deep gulps of water, hoping it would help clear the fog in my head.

Before I could even process what I had just done, I tried to sit up. The world tilted around me, spinning violently, and I immediately groaned, my body fighting against the dizziness that made me feel like I was going to collapse again.

Jungkook moved toward me without hesitation, his hands gently pushing me back onto the bed as he muttered, "Easy, tiger. You’re just going to make yourself more sick if you keep moving around like that. Lay down."

I gave him a pointed look, still too proud to admit I wasn’t in any state to argue, but the dizziness made it impossible to ignore. "I’m not staying here with you," I said, my words barely making sense as I tried to sit up again, but my body refused to cooperate.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, a knowing look in his eyes. "I’m not staying," he assured me, his voice steady. "Don’t worry. You’ll have the room to yourself. Damian’s going to be here in five minutes, so just get some rest."

I blinked at him, trying to make sense of his words. "Damian?" I repeated, confused. "Wait, what—"

"Damian’s staying here too," Jungkook repeated, cutting me off gently. "So just take a nap or something until he comes. Get some rest."

I tried to say something else, but before I could, Jungkook turned away, picking up his jacket and car keys from where they were carelessly thrown on the couch. He glanced back over his shoulder for a brief moment, his gaze meeting mine one last time before he nodded, almost as if to reassure me that everything was going to be fine.

Without another word, he left the room, the door clicking shut behind him as I lay there, still trying to make sense of everything.

A few minutes passed, the stillness of the room broken only by the pounding in my head. But just as I started to feel like I could finally breathe, I heard a knock on the door. I wasn’t sure if it was my mind playing tricks on me, but I called out anyway, "Come in."

The door opened with a soft creak, and Damian stepped inside, carrying a bag in his hands. The smell of food hit me immediately, warm and comforting, and for a moment, I just let myself inhale deeply. It was such a welcome change from the thick air of nausea that had filled my senses for the past hour. My lips curled into a smile without even thinking about it. "You're really here," I said, the words sounding almost like a relief.

Damian smiled back at me, his eyes soft with affection as he approached the bed and placed the bag on the floor beside it. Without hesitation, he pulled me into a hug, his arms strong and familiar, and for a second, I let myself relax into him. "Yeah, I thought I’d surprise you," he said, his voice warm against my ear. "How are you feeling?"

I groaned, the weight of my headache crashing down on me again as I pulled away just enough to look at him. "I feel like shit," I admitted with a grimace. "But it’s really good to see you."

Damian’s smile softened, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked down at me. "You too," he said, his voice laced with a hint of humor. "Just didn’t think it’d be under these circumstances."

I laughed nervously, the sound shaky. "Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t plan on getting that drunk... it just kind of happened, you know? In the heat of the moment."

"It’s fine," Damian assured me, giving me a reassuring smile. "At least you’re okay."

But then my expression shifted, a serious look overtaking my features as something nagged at me. Something didn’t feel right. "So," I started, my tone shifting to one of suspicion, "care to explain why Jungkook was the one who took me home last night? And why you called him your 'friend'?"

Damian let out a long sigh, his shoulders sagging slightly as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. "Well," he began, his voice quiet, "he was actually the one who called me about you guys."

"What?" I asked, my brow furrowing in confusion.

"He found you on the streets and helped you," Damian explained, his eyes downcast for a moment. "Then he called me, asking if I could take you and your friends home. So... if anything, you should be thanking him, not me."

"But how did he know you were here?" I pressed, the feeling of unease tightening in my chest.

Damian hesitated, his eyes shifting uncomfortably. "Well..." he began, clearly nervous about the topic. "We may have made up. We’re back to being best friends again."

My eyes widened in shock, and I couldn’t help but shout, "What the fuck? How much did I miss?" The shock was so sudden that I felt my head spin once again.

Damian quickly shushed me, placing a finger to his lips, and his expression turned serious. "Let’s not get ourselves kicked out just yet," he said softly, glancing toward the door.

I blinked, my mouth hanging open in disbelief, before I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, trying to steady myself. "Sorry, but seriously... what happened to you hating him for being the prick that he is?"

Damian chuckled lightly, but there was a thoughtful glint in his eyes. "Let’s just say we talked things out. I found out some stuff that made me realize that Jungkook isn’t the bad person I made him out to be."

"What did you find out?" I asked, my voice filled with skepticism.

Damian hesitated again, his fingers drumming against the side of the bed, clearly unsure of how to proceed. "I think it’s best if Jungkook tells you himself," he said carefully, his gaze shifting away from me.

I stared at him in disbelief, feeling a wave of frustration rise in my chest. "Damian, not this again," I said, my voice tight. "I thought you were going to be open with me from now on."

"I know, I know," Damian said, his voice soft, yet apologetic. "But this really is something he should be telling you, not me. Please, just... when the time comes, hear him out, okay?"

I crossed my arms over my chest, staring at him, my lips pressed into a thin line. "No," I said firmly.

Damian sighed deeply, his voice steady but filled with concern. "AJ, you know I only want what’s best for you," he said, his eyes meeting mine. "I would never tell you to do something I wasn’t sure of. But seriously... give him a chance to explain."

"Explain what?" I asked, my voice rising, a mixture of anger and hurt. "Why he so happily played with me like I’m some toy, then tossed me aside because Jade told him to? Nah, I’m good."

Damian’s face softened, his expression filled with understanding. "I know the whole situation was horrible," he said quietly. "And it really hurt you... but please, just let him make it up to you."

I narrowed my eyes, my heart racing in frustration. "How?" I asked, my voice almost pleading. "How is he going to make it up to me?"

Damian’s voice was calm but persistent. "Just give him a week," he suggested. "Let him try and regain your trust. If you’re not satisfied by the end of it, he’ll leave you alone forever."

I blinked, my mind spinning at the thought of giving Jungkook another chance. "Really?" I asked, unsure if I was hearing him right.

"Yeah," Damian said with a slight nod. "But you have to let him at least try."

I paused for a long moment, my fingers absently pushing my hair away from my face as I exhaled deeply. The weight of the decision pressed on me, and I felt my gut twist with doubt. Finally, I looked at Damian, my voice quieter now. "One week. That’s all he gets."

Damian smiled, a hint of relief in his expression. "I’ll let him know."

I stared at the ceiling, my thoughts a whirlwind, spinning faster and faster. The room felt small, like the walls were closing in on me with every second that passed. One week. One week to see if Jungkook could prove himself, to see if he could make up for the mess he’d caused. It sounded simple enough, but in my gut, I felt a gnawing unease. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was setting myself up for more pain, but maybe... maybe there was a chance he could actually change. Could he?

Damian's voice broke through my spiraling thoughts as he handed me the bag of food. "Here," he said, his tone warm, yet still carrying that underlying concern. "You should eat. It’s not much, but I thought you could use something to settle your stomach."

I took the bag from him absently, my fingers brushing against his for a split second, the warmth of his touch grounding me for just a moment. I nodded, not trusting my voice enough to say anything more. He stayed silent for a moment, watching me closely, before he gave a small smile.

"I’ll let you eat and get some rest," he said, his voice soft, understanding. "I’ll check in later, okay?"

I nodded again, the weight of everything pressing on my chest. "Thanks, Damian. For everything."

"Anytime," he replied, his smile growing a little more genuine before he turned to leave. Just before closing the door, he paused and glanced over his shoulder. "I know it feels like you’re stuck right now, but you’ll figure this out. Just...don’t be too hard on yourself."

The door clicked shut, and I was left alone again, the silence wrapping around me like a blanket. I set the bag down on the bedside table, staring at it without actually seeing it, the chaos in my mind far louder than my physical hunger. But eventually, I grabbed the bag and pulled out the food. I took a bite, the familiar taste doing little to settle the storm within me.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Jungkook. What had really happened between him and Damian? They’d made up, but how? What had changed? Was it really something that could make a difference, or was it just another attempt to brush the past under the rug? And most importantly—did I even want to give him the chance to hurt me again?

The questions piled up, each one more suffocating than the last.

As I chewed, my mind wandered to the one thing I hadn’t considered: what if Jungkook actually did care? What if there was more to his actions than the way he’d treated me before? The thought was almost laughable, but it hung there like a shadow, refusing to leave. Could I really trust him again?

I set the food down, suddenly too tired to eat anymore. I leaned back against the pillows, rubbing my eyes as exhaustion began to settle over me like a heavy fog.

The room felt like it was spinning again, and this time, I let it. Maybe it would all make sense later. Or maybe it wouldn’t.

I just didn’t know.

Time passed slowly as I lay there, trying to ignore the lingering ache in my head. The medicine had started to take the edge off, and eventually, I felt the nausea start to subside. My stomach settled, the room stopped spinning, and my mind began to clear, albeit slowly. 

I shook the thoughts from my mind and pushed myself up, groaning softly as my muscles protested. My head still throbbed a little, but it was bearable now. After a quick look in the mirror and a steadying breath, I grabbed my phone and quickly sent a text to Kayla: Heading to your place now. See you soon.

The journey to Kayla’s house wasn’t long, but the trip felt like a blur, my thoughts continuing to drift back to Jungkook, to Damian, and to the choices that were weighing on me. Still, as soon as I walked up to Kayla’s front door and rang the bell, I could feel a slight weight lift from my shoulders. I needed to see her, to be around someone who wasn’t a part of all the confusion.

The door swung open just as I was about to knock again, and there she was, standing in front of me with that big, welcoming grin plastered across her face. "Hey!" she exclaimed, stepping aside to let me in. "You’re alive. I was starting to wonder if I’d have to send a search party."

I rolled my eyes, but the corner of my mouth lifted in amusement. "I’m not that bad off," I said, though my voice was still rough from the night before.

Kayla raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying the casual tone in my voice. "Uhuh," she said, crossing her arms with a knowing look. "So, how’re you feeling now? Better?"

"Better, yeah," I said, pushing past her into the hallway. "I’m still a little shaky, but nothing compared to earlier."

Kayla let out a relieved sigh as she closed the door behind me. "Thank God," she muttered, before flashing me a mischievous smile. "So... did Damian’s friend explain what happened last night? I’m guessing you weren’t exactly left alone, huh?"

I froze for a split second, my heart skipping a beat. The memory of Jungkook helping me flooded my mind again, and I couldn't quite shake the image of him standing there, those familiar eyes watching me with something softer than what I'd remembered. "Yeah... about that," I said, my voice trailing off. "Damian came over and explained a few things. But there's still a lot I don’t understand."

Kayla’s curiosity piqued, and she cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

I hesitated, not wanting to dive into the whole mess of it just yet. "I’ll tell you later," I said, flashing her a small, tired smile. "It’s...complicated. But I’m okay now. Really."

Kayla studied me for a moment, her expression a mixture of concern and understanding. She could tell I wasn’t telling her everything, but she didn’t push it. Instead, she gave me a small nod. "Well, I’m just glad you’re here. You need anything? I’ve got leftover pizza—can’t promise it’s great, but it’ll help soak up some of that hangover."

I chuckled lightly at her offer, grateful for the distraction. "I might just take you up on that," I said, finally feeling the weight of the situation start to ease just a little. I needed comfort, and I needed Kayla. It was the one thing I could rely on, the one thing that felt solid.

She led me into the living room, where we sank down onto the couch together, surrounded by the chaos of her apartment—empty coffee mugs, half-rolled blankets, and the usual clutter of a place that was lived in. It wasn’t anything fancy, but in that moment, it was perfect. I leaned back against the cushions, closing my eyes for a brief moment before opening them to find Kayla watching me.

"So," she began slowly, clearly sensing my need to talk, "do you want to talk about it? Whatever’s going on?"

I met her gaze, her expression full of quiet understanding. For a moment, I thought about it. About telling her everything—the conversation with Damian, the talk with Jungkook, and the confusing mix of emotions I was trying to sort through. But I wasn’t ready to go there just yet. Instead, I gave her a small, shaky smile.

"Not right now," I said softly. "But I’ll let you know when I am. Promise."

Kayla nodded, her eyes softening as she leaned over to grab the pizza. "Okay, deal. Whenever you’re ready, I’m here. No judgment."

I leaned back, letting the warmth of her presence fill the empty spaces in my chest. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt like I wasn’t completely alone. Maybe I still didn’t have the answers I was looking for, but for now, being with Kayla was enough.

Well, at least that was the case until my phone lit up with a new message from Adam.

"Is everything okay?"

I blinked, the words catching me off guard. I quickly opened the message, my stomach tightening as I suddenly remembered Adam had texted me the night before. The message before his recent one read, "You wanna go out?” - yesterday at 8:45

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. How could I have been so stupid? I’d completely forgotten to respond to him, caught up in everything that had happened. The guilt settled into my chest like a rock.

Kayla glanced over at me, noticing the shift in my expression. "What’s wrong?" she asked, her voice gentle but laced with concern.

I let out a long sigh, sitting up a little straighter. "Adam texted me," I said, my voice tinged with frustration. "And I completely forgot to text him back. I feel like such an idiot."

Kayla’s expression softened, and she reached out, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Don’t worry, babe," she said with a small laugh. "It happens. He’ll understand. Just explain the situation, and everything will be fine."

I nodded, trying to shake off the guilt. "Yeah, you’re right," I muttered. "I’ll call him and explain."

Kayla smiled and gave me a thumbs up. "Cool. I’ll wait here. Take your time."

I got up and left the living room, heading down the hallway toward my room. The door clicked shut behind me as I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the situation still pressing on me.

I dialed Adam's number, my fingers shaking slightly as I waited for him to pick up. It rang twice before he answered, and I could hear the familiar warmth in his voice, though it was laced with a hint of concern.

"AJ? Hey, you good?" he asked, the relief clear in his tone.

I sighed, leaning back against the door as I gathered my thoughts. "Yeah... I’m good, sorry about not texting back," I said, cringing at how thoughtless I’d been. "Last night... it was a mess. Cyrus, Leah, Serena, Kayla, and I went to the club. We all got really drunk, and I wasn’t in the right state of mind so I completely forgot to respond to you."

There was a long pause on the other end, and I could hear him exhale before he spoke again, his tone softening. "Don’t worry it’s okay. But, uh, did you get home safe?"

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. The relief in his voice made my chest tighten, but before I could even process my next words, they spilled out. "Yeah, Jungkook took me home."

The second the words left my mouth, my heart sank. I slapped my hand over my mouth, as if that would stop the damage. There was a long stretch of silence on the other end, so thick it almost suffocated me.

Adam didn’t speak for what felt like an eternity, and I could feel the tension building with every passing second. When he finally spoke, his voice was sharp, barely contained. "Jungkook?" he asked, his disbelief cutting through the silence like a knife.

I mentally cursed myself, the realization of my slip-up hitting me like a ton of bricks. Of course I shouldn’t have said that. Of course, it was going to make him react like this.

"Yeah," I muttered, cringing at the way my voice cracked. "I was really drunk, and he found me singing on the street. He helped me get home. That’s it."

The silence that followed was heavy. I could practically hear the gears turning in Adam’s head. Finally, I heard him click his teeth in frustration. "You have to be careful, AJ," he said, his tone almost accusatory now. "Who knows what that bastard’s intentions were."

I flinched at his words, guilt spiraling through me as I tried to defend the situation. "Don’t worry," I said quickly, hoping to ease his concern. "He didn’t do anything. He just made sure I was safe. Nothing happened."

Still, Adam’s response was firm, almost cold. "I don’t trust him one bit. And you shouldn’t either."

My stomach tightened at his words, the worry creeping up my spine. I felt like I was trying to justify something I didn’t fully understand myself. "I promise I’ll be more careful next time," I said, trying to reassure him, but it didn’t feel like enough. Not for him. "I’ll be more wary from now on."

Adam’s tone softened a little, but there was still an undercurrent of frustration there. "Just be careful, AJ," he said again, his voice barely above a whisper now. "That’s all I’m saying."

I nodded, though he couldn’t see me. "I will," I promised, my voice barely above a murmur. "I’ll talk to you later."

There was a pause, and then I heard the faint sound of him sighing. "Yeah. Talk soon."

Before I could say anything else, the call ended. The line went dead, and I found myself staring at my phone in silence, my mind spinning. My heart was still racing, and I felt a growing sense of confusion wash over me. What had just happened? Why had Adam reacted like that?

Sure, I knew he didn’t like Jungkook—he’d made that clear a long time ago—but this wasn’t just dislike. This felt more... intense. Adam had sounded more angry than worried or protective. I expected him to be relieved that I got home safely, that I wasn’t in any immediate danger, but instead, he was angry. He didn’t trust Jungkook, which, I understood, but the force behind his words felt different this time.

[veryblushyswitch]

🌲 I can tickle myself?! 2️⃣

Summary: After a long night of clone fights and Wendy plans, Tyrone and Dipper head up to the roof to debrief. However, the two soon make a scientific discovery about clones and touch. 🌲

Switches: Dipper & Tyrone

Author’s Note: Finally got this done my gosh- Hope you all enjoy!! I miss Tyrone so much! 🌲

That was… an interesting night to say the least.

Dipper and Tyrone made their way up to the rooftop hangout spot of the Mystery Shack. The muffled music from the party mixed with the sounds of cicadas and crickets creating a calming white noise. A small breeze created the perfect summer night temperature for chatting with your clone about the nights recent happenings.

Dipper and Tyrone sat on the edge of the roof and swung their legs. Dipper sighed, breaking the awkward silence to talk to himself.

“I can’t believe we blew it.” He hung his head low.

Tyrone brought his hands to his lap, playing with his fingers trying to figure out what to say.

“It’s alright, man. We live and we learn.” Tyrone looked to Dipper, still wearing a frown and hanging his head.

“I mean, you didn’t totally blow it.” Tyrone put a hand on Dipper’s shoulder.

“You made some progress when you just talked to her and didn’t do any of that list stuff.” Dipper recalled the conversation Wendy and Dipper had outside the bathroom.

The moment where two freaks had a small heart to heart. He smiled, but soon frowned again when he thought about Robbie.

“Yeah I guess. I mean do you think we even have a chance with her?” Dipper looked to Tyrone.

“She’s 15, we’re 12, and then there’s Robbie. Stupid skinny-jean wearing jerk.” Dipper and Tyrone simultaneously crossed their arms in frustration.

Tyrone glanced at Dipper again. He didn’t like seeing him beat himself up. At least this time emotionally and not physically like earlier.

“Aww, c’mon, Wendy and Robbie can’t last forever. And who knows, maybe we will get to dance with her one day~” Tyrone elbowed at Dipper’s side in a playful manner. Dipper twitched and found himself snickering at the touch.

“Hehey- knohock it ohohoff!” Tyrone abruptly stopped. Tyrone and Dipper each gasped at the reaction Dipper classic had just emitted.

“Woah…” Tyrone said.

“Did you just?” Dipper stared in disbelief.

“I think I did…”

“I can tickle myself?!” The two said at the same time.

A small blush formed on both of their cheeks. It was no secret that Dipper was ticklish. Extremely ticklish in fact. And you know Mabel takes advantage of that any chance she can. But this, this was a scientific discovery. Just happened to also be a flustering one.

“Mahan, this is crazy! I never even thought about the possibility that one could tickle themselves as a clone.” Dipper exclaimed.

“I know right? I mean, I guess when watching movies about clones you really don’t think of the- AHH!” Tyrone’s arm slammed to his side where a curious Dipper Classic had just poked.

To his surprise and amusement, Tyrone seemed to share his ticklishness even as a paper clone.

“Ha! It works on you too! Interesting.” Dipper excitedly yelled. Tyrone rubbed away the phantom feeling. It was so strange. Yes he was a clone of Dipper who had all of his memories of past tickle fights with Mabel, but since he had only been around for this night, the feeling was somehow both brand new yet nostalgic.

“Yeah, I guess it dohoes- hehehehe! Wahahahait!” Tyrone suddenly giggled when Dipper started rapid fire poking at his sides and ribs. Tyrone backed away from the edge, both in fear of falling and to try and get away from Dipper’s tickling hands.

“Dihihipper! Hahaha! Stahahahap!” Tyrone struggled to stay upright, pulling his legs into his chest to block Dipper’s hands for a moment. That didn’t stop Dipper’s hands from curling into his sides, however.

“No way! This is totally something I gotta test. Plus you so owe me for locking me in a closet earlier.” Tyrone groaned through his giggles. I guess he did try and take over his life-

“Let’s see, do we share the same spots?” Dipper thought out loud moving to squeeze at Tyrone’s knees that were so conveniently positioned right in front of him.

“Ohoho my gohohosh!” Tyrone squealed and kicked his legs. Loud, high pitched giggles filling the night air and causing Dipper to chuckle.

“Seems like we do.” Dipper continued to squeeze and prod. He had to admit, he kind of understood now why Mabel tickled him all the time. His reactions were pretty funny.

While in deep thought, Tyrone took this opportunity to reach out and latch his fingers onto Dipper’s ribs and start scribbling. Dipper barked out a laugh and fell back against the rooftop.

“GAHAHAHA! TIHIYROHONE! NAHAT FAHAHAIR!” Dipper protested. His arms glued against his sides as Tyrone readjusted himself to get a better angle.

“Nohot fair? Dude, you literally just started tickling me right away! Now that’s unfair.” Tyrone playfully shouted before tickling away at his bottom ribs. Dipper shrieked and curled in on himself. Trying his hardest to shield every possible tickle spot they both knew the other could exploit.

“Heh. No wonder Mabel tickles us so much. It’s kinda fun.” Tyrone commented, making Dipper classic blush and shove at his hands when he dug in harder.

“Ohoho my gohohosh ShuhuHUHUT UHUHUP!” Getting teased by yourself was a whole new level of embarrassing. Not only did Tyrone know exactly where to attack, but he knew every thought that could be circulating in his head about the situation. Surely he wouldn’t say more of those things out loud thought right? Right…

“What if Wendy found out we were this ticklish. Oho man, we’d get tickled like all the time.” Tyrone seemed to have a lot more confidence than Dipper- because why the heck would Tyrone say something like that?!

Oh yeah, cause it would make Dipper absolutely melt into the floor as if he were the paper clone who got splashed with water.

“Duhuhude! Ahaha! C’mohohon mahahan!” Dipper switched to covering his now burning face. Tyrone took this opportunity to sneak his fingers up under Dipper’s arms.

“I don’t think we’d mind that much though if she did.” Tyrone smugly chuckled.

Dipper screamed before falling into loud cackles. Thankfully the music from the party was loud too. God forbid someone, *cough cough* Wendy, were to hear him having a tickle fight with himself.

“AHAHAHAHA! STAHAHAHA! NOHOHAHAHA!” Dipper thrashed back and forth. Anything to get away from Tyrone’s tickling hands. Unfortunately for him, he only succeeded in trapping Tyrone’s fingers under his arms.

“Oho my gohosh! Is that how loud we get when we laugh?” Tyrone giggled along. Tyrone went to adjust the way he was sitting when Dipper saw an opportunity. He reached his arms out despite the ticklish feeling and latched onto Tyrone’s leg and tickled. More specifically, he scribbled at that dreaded spot behind their knees.

“AHAHAHAHA! STAHAHAP!” Tyrone yanked on his leg, fingers still tickling away under Dipper’s arms.

“YOUHUHU FIHIHIRST! GAHAHAHAHA!” Dipper shrieked. His arms still hugging his sides as much as they could as he continued to tickle Tyrone.

The pair’s laughter filled the woods for minutes on end. Soon the two eventually gave up at the same time, falling back against the roof.

They both took in deep breaths, bodies tingling. As they stared at the stars, they tried not to think too much about the fact that they had just had a tickle fight with themselves. But honestly, it was kinda fun. And both knew it. All in all, a very… interesting night.

~

Bonus Part: 🌲

Dipper’s 3 and 4 found their way back to the Mystery Shack and happened to witness the end of… a tickle fight? They both gasped and blushed like Dipper and Tyrone had earlier.

“I had no idea we could tickle ourselves. Or that we as clones could even be ticklish.” 3 said, unable to look away from the giggling pair. 4 smirked and glanced sideways at 3.

He quickly gave him a scribble to the side and couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face when 3 squealed and slapped his hands over his mouth.

“Hehey!” 3 reached over trying to do the same to 4. 4 swerved out of his reach and latched onto 3’s sides giving him some ticklish squeezes before running to the woods behind them.

“Gehet bahack here!” 3 yelled to 4. The two’s giggling eventually fading into the distance of the woods of Gravity Falls.

[batfossil-fr]

I’ve been really thinking of reopening my art shop soon… I’ve been taking some practice doodles (hence all the posting lately) while I shake off my rust and I’m finding things I enjoy working on again. I miss trying my hand at more dragons/OCs and colors. my shop’s so broken rn lmao but that’s a problem for a later date it’s just nice getting back into art

[anotherpapercut]

working with children really will make you examine your thought processes and emotional reactions like nothing else. I've found myself being so much more thoughtful in my daily life about how I respond to my emotions and environment, as well as the reasoning behind why others behave the way they do

[sanchoyo]

i start that new job tomorrow 😶 ...

[void-tiger]

Well…if there’s one (1) good thing about having a crush, it’s that when I’m (for the moment anyway) not worrying about the other person’s boundaries and terror about whether I’ve stomped on them or not + my own frustration at how slow things are to just communicate verbally and directly instead of constantly dancing around nonverbal reads (that are two-way, I suppose but still no substitute, can still mean just about anything)…

…yeah. I do let myself be selfish. Acknowledge what I want instead of burying it so deeply away from my consciousness to not “take up space” I suppose. Finally give myself some damn permission to fall in love with another person “despite” being ace, and “despite” being chronically ill and struggling with my mental health.

And what is it I want?

To feel cared for. Cherished. By someone here. To wake up and have someone greet me with a gentle embrace mindful of the constant chronic pain especially in the mornings to not accidentally pinch things, but not treating me like glass, either. To be given autonomy instead of having it taken away—to do things together, FUN things, without being made to feel guilty about that “taking away” spoons from chores or “well why won’t you just work a job then!” but also respecting my need to rest periodically or take a longer rest after the fact.

To feel heard. To trust that there’s love enough for us to disagree and feel angry and frustrated and sad around eachother and with eachother without judgement, without the risk that things are forever one disagreement or misunderstanding away from falling apart completely or worse.

And please tease me. Teasing is a love language just as much as communication and encouragement and acts of service and finally being held. It’s verbal play, and I trust you to not bully me.

And…I’ve shown as much as I can, I think. I know you’re trying to mirror at least some of it. And I think I’m reading you correctly, but I wish I understood why you seem so terrified to talk directly to me.

[the-bluestreak-cat]

My extremely personal red flag is if you’ve never lived independently.

Do not open tags it’s just a personal vent and I hit the tag limit (30) and that’s never happened to me before ajskdlf

[nkogneatho]

— 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐖, 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐍

—characters: gojo, toji, geto, sukuna, nanami, choso

—cw: lactation ofc, fem!reader, nicknames, aphrodisiac (the milk), intoxication, masturbation, semi-public, dry humping.

—a/n: i have officially surprised myself with how insane i can really be. ya gurl so thirsty she created her own universe where men gib milkies 🧍🏽‍♀️

introduction to the universe:

Evolution took place a little differently in this universe. A mutation caused hormonal presence that triggers monthly lactation in men for 3 to 5 days, and it usually starts in their early 20s. It is studied that it does not serve any purpose of feeding like female lactation, but might be an indicator to arousal, and even a mating call due to accurate findings of natural aphrodisiacs in the milk produced by the thin gland located in a breast. It also pains a lot and causes swelling of nipples. While scientific advancements have yet to develop a pill that might solve this problem, the most effective natural method to be proven is letting another person suck it.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

It had been quite a long day at work. You knew you were the last to arrive home when you found his boots messed on the floor.

“Toru?” You called out his name, failed to receive a response. “Toru, baby, ' m home.” The wooden door of the shoe cabinet creaked as you closed it after placing the footwear in their place.

The house smelled…sweeter, felt warmer than usual. Making your way to the bedroom, you found clothes scattered on the floor near the entrance. The door was ajar which means your eyes had quick access to what was happening.

“Fuck! Ah! Ah! Mhmm.” You watched in surprise as your boyfriend kept fisting his cock, but wait. Something was different. You moved closer and found his hands squeezing his tits, milk oozing and drenching his naked body. But his heat doesn't arrive until next week. You thought. It was not uncommon for heats to arrive irregularly. It only meant that his hormone level had increased due to sexual frustration. Your eyes scanned his position, his movements. A hand reaching down to rub the wetness forming between your legs. You couldn't take it anymore.

“Need a hand?” You asked, announcing yourself in the room to let the man know he wasn't alone.

“Oh fuck! I thought I locked the door,” he panicked, yet he didn't remove his from his cock, just another arm covering his chest.

“And deprive me of this treat? I don't think so, baby.” You walked closer until you were hovering over him, kissing softly. Heat always has Satoru acting needy and you knew it.

“Touch me, doll. Please.” You smiled at his eagerness.

“I will do more than just touch.” Slapping his wrist away that were blocking the view of his lovely tits, you pushed him until he was laying flat. Your clothed pussy grinding in his naked cock as you leaned and took one of his nipples in your mouth.

“F-fuck.” he stuttered. “Don't. I am early this month. The flow is too much—ngh—you'll get high.” As if that was going to stop you? You started sucking more aggressively. He was right. The flow really was too much because you found yourself gulping a mouthful of his sweet milk, as your other hand reached down jerked his cock.

“Baby…ah! Keep doing that. I am close.” He is so silly to think he can relieve himself on his own when it never works. “Holy fhhuuck! Gonna c—aahhh!” You watched as he arched his back, white spurts covering your hands and other white liquid wetting your jaw. You sat up, removing your top as you already felt dizzy.

“We're not done, Toru. Wan'you to fuck me nasty while I suck your milk.” And he was hard again at your words.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

You loved spring. It was your favorite season to go out. Not too cold. Not too hot. Just the perfect amount of wind and sun. Apparently, it is also a perfect season for outdoor dates. You and Toji preferred to stay in most of the time but the cherry blossoms were too precious to be enjoyed from your windows or TV screen.

“Toji, you ready?” you asked your husband, packing things in your cute pink purse.

“Uhm, princess? Think we might need to cancel the date.” His muffled voice emerged through the bedroom.

“What?” You yelled as you stomped to the bedroom. “What do you mean we might need to c—oh…" Your legs stopped, body taken aback as you stared at his shirtless body, tone muscles and triceps flexing as he squeezed his tits, squirting the milk out.

“I am over-lactating.”

“What happened to the breast cups?”

“Look at me princess. 'm leaking too much. They ain't gon' hold it. Agh fuck!” He spat angrily as you watched the milk travel down his abs, covering it in sweetness.

“Fuck the date. I have a better plan.” You winked at him.

“Shit. Calm down, ma—ugh. Y'er gonna bruise my tits." You were riding his cock, rocking your body back and forth on his crotch while sucking his swollen dark peachy nipples. Your hands struggled to hold his chest because they were bigger than it, causing your nails to dig into the skin.

“Mmh lvove yvour mwilk shwo mwuch.” Your dirty muffled comments vibrating on his skin.

“Y'er drunk, ma. Ya like to get drunk on daddy's milk, hmm?” He cooed, planting a spank on your ass.

“Lwove it.”

“Hm mhh,” he chuckled. “Nasty fucking girl. Move—ahh! Move faster. Need to cum.” You followed his orders, not looking up once to meet his eyes but busy soaking in the drug and flavor of his milk.

“Ngh—twoji, too much. Wan' a break.” You complained, but he was not going to let you stop. This was your plan after all.

“Nuh uh! Don't pull that now.” He grabbed your ass and started bouncing them up and down. You felt so insides bursting with pleasure, cheeks burning up, eyes rolling back. “Gonna cum, ma. Make sure this pussy drinks all my cum as you stuff your mouth with my milk—gahh! fhuck fhuck! fuuuuck!” He was talking as if you had a choice when one of his hand forced you down on his cock as he painted your hole in his cum, while the other hand pushed your face further against his tits. He watched as milk overflowed from the side of your lips. “Such a good girl f'me. You wan' more?”

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

Sukuna tend to get a bit crazier when he was in heat. He fucked you with more strength, came a lot more than usual. It was hard to keep his mood balanced. You tried to suggest him some diet during those days of the month, but he refused to eat greens. A big man like him fancies flesh. Furthermore, why does he need a diet when he has the most proven effective method?

“K-kuna…agh! Too biiig." You cried. Sukuna had you on top of him, his big body splayed on the king-size bed—that surprisingly was almost the same size as him—your thighs trembling, kneecaps digging the mattress as you struggled to keep hi dick inside. Your head was telling you to get off it. Yet, your tight little cunt craved more of him.

“Hmm,” he chuckled. “Your pussy has a habit of biting more than she can swallow.” His teases were humiliating. Your hands rested on his chest, tongue reminiscing the sweet taste of his milk. Even though you were not completely dominant in this relationship—it is hard to be one when you are dating a man like sukuna—there were times when you initiated the things he would usually pester you about. Your lustful eyes gave him a look he hadn't seen before. Soon, he felt your hands tightening around his tits. Now he knew what you were up to.

“Want a taste, my woman?” All you could do was give a light nod because most of your strength was busy rolling your waist on his cock. “Go ahead. Suck my milk out.”

Without a second thought, you found your lips kissing his puffy pink nipples. You could feel the veins throbbing as you were suckling his juice out. Sukuna's milk was sweet with a hint of tanginess. Nevertheless, you loved it.

“Shhit! Calm down woman. I am not going anywhere.” His words were just background noise to you because all you could hear is squelching of your pussy and your slurps on his tiddie.

“Mmghh! Don't tell me you're planning on getting drunk.” His shoulders adjusted themselves to get a better position. “If you are—fuck. Then don't expect me to go easy tonight.” You unlatched your mouth from him for what seemed like after fifteen minutes to finally speak.

“Want you to ruin my pussy, kuna. Mmh,” you jerked your hips forward. “Want you to fill my mouth with milk as you do it.”

“Get off.” His tone shifted from somewhat sweet to serious. You followed his orders anyway. You both exchanged positions so now he was on top of you.

“My dirty human. Better stick to your words, darling. I am not planning on stopping until you're drenched in my cum and my milk”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

You always knew Suguru's heat cycle. As the days approached closer, he used to become more and more whiny and clingy, arguing with you over petty things. His behavior did a 180° on these days.

Earlier today, you had a discourse over chores. He nagged at how you should keep things in place, or you won't find them when you need it. You understood where he was coming from, but the work had taken quite a toll on you that you barely had energy tonight. He just wouldn't let it go, and you grew more frustrated. You yanked him by his wrist, dragging his giant, muscular body to the shower. And here you were, stroking him off as you nibbled, and suckled on his tits. The continuous pour of warm water stimulating both of you.

“This is what you wanted, right, sugu?” you looked up, chin nuzzling in his cleavage. “Nagging me the whole day. You just wanted your tits sucked.” His brows scrunched together. A large hand approached your face, cupping your cheeks. He had his fingers digging the muscle on your face until they squished together.

“Behave,” his voice stern. “Just 'cause 'm in heat doesn't mean you hold the upper hand, baby.”

“Oh, but I do, Sugu—*spank* Ah! What was that for?”

“For teasing me. I know you love drinking my milk, princess. Get to it 'cause I can't take it nomo.” He pressed your face against one of his boobs, your nose pressured a little above the nipple, forcing the spurts of milk out.

“You gon' let it fall down the drain?” Your immediate action was to cup his tiddy with both of your hands—his chest was too big to use one—massaging all of the juice out. You opened your mouth and let it aim at your tongue.

“Fucking hell! This is why—mmghh easy, princess. 'Tis all sore.”

“I gotchu, sugu.” You eased out the movement of your hands, gently kneading them.

“Fhuuck, yes. Just like that.” Other hand travelled back down, grabbing his throbbing boner, squeezing the base as you squeezed his nipples. Geto planted a kiss on top of your head. “Holy shit. Still can't believe you're mine.” Your lips morphed into a smile, teeth still grasping his nipple. “Look at'cha. My milk's getting your high already.” He picked you up bridal style, your tongue still licking his puffed chest, as he kicked the bathroom door open that lead to your bedroom. “You got your treat. Time f'me to get mine, princess.”

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

Working 9to5, staring all day at a computer screen is what your life had been all about. You switched companies to think you might get something new to do, but to no one's surprise, it was the same. Except, this one man you were crushing on since day one.

Nanami Kento was a gentleman they described in those fairytales. Always so respectful, kind and damn he was a big feminist. Although, with him being the perfect husband material, you were still never going to cross the line because you were co-workers. That didn't mean you weren't allowed to crush.

“And then Mr. Sasaki from HR department knocked the beer over,” your TL chattered. Nanami wasn't the one to gossip, but Sakurako-san was your team leader and older than everyone. She wasn't a bad person but oh boy did she love tea. You fake gasped to give her the reaction she wanted, as you side-eyed Kento who looked a bit uncomfortable.

“Then he had the audacity to—”

“Excuse me,” Nanami withdrew halfway from the conversation he wasn't even participating in much, walking away abruptly.

After a few minutes, you decided to look for him to make sure he was alright. Of course, as a co-worker, you should. Nothing related to the heart eyes you give him, right?

You stomped towards the corridor almost making a left until you heard loud coughs reverberating through the walls of the men's washroom. You swore it was him. Furthermore, you shouldn't have gone in. What were you thinking? It was a men's washroom, for fuck's sake. But what if something happened to him? Sure.

Pushing the door in a hurry, you entered, almost tripping. “Nanami-san—” You did not whether you should be embarrassed, shocked or horrified. Maybe all three.

“Are you okay?”

“You shouldn't be here, l/n-san.” True. But seeing him squeeze his tits, and milking himself down the drain was the sight you were blessed to see. You locked the door behind, the clicking of the latch making Nanami hold his breath, “What are you doing?”

“You're going to let all that milk go to waste, Kento?” His dick twitched. You never called him by his first name, and now you were asking inappropriate questions along with calling him Kento.

“L/N-san, this isn't right—”

“Shhh. Just wanna help you. We're colleagues, aren't we?” He nodded.

Without breaking any eye contact you hopped on the counter, hands reaching for his nipples glistening with milk under the off-white light. You pressed your palm against his chest, feeling the liquid staining it, only starting to cramming the swell more. Kento lost his composure, hands falling flat on the counter, head on your shoulders. Couple of shaky breaths, fading soft moans leaving his lips. Pushing him back for a second to only latch your tongue on the dark pink bud, you were sure you're way past the appropriate relationship of just work buddies.

“L/n—ah! Can I?” He darted his eyes down where the tent peeked out his gray formal pants. You smiled. Knowing he needed friction, you adjusted your pencil skirt, and wrapped your legs around him, boner pressed against wet patch on your panties. Nanami felt like he was in heaven. He started humping against your clothed pussy, being rough contradictory to his gentle innocent touches to you before. But it was only reasonable given the fact that he was in heat.

He never knew the feeling of being milked from both ends, but now when he came, he ruined his whole expensive suit. The edges of the mustard yellow shirt becoming translucent with his milk, with a dark spot on his pants between his legs. He let out a shaky breath, apologizing as he slowly came back to his senses.

“What are you apologizing for? I started it,” you said as you hopped off the countertop. “Let me know if you ever need more help, Nanami-san.” A wink from is what caused his cheeks to turn red. “I'll bring you spare clothes from your desk.”

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

Most lactation in men started in their early twenties. Although, it wasn't unusual for some to start late. There was nothing medically wrong with them. But you've heard things about. How much more it hurts, and how more they leak on their first heat if they do get late.

You've been dating your boyfriend Choso for almost a year now. He hadn't start lactating yet, which is why you researched enough on this topic just in case. Personally, you've never been physical with men when they're in heat. Not because it is not your thing, but your relationships were too short to actually be comfortable in experiencing it. Of course, you would never do anything with Choso at his displeasure just because you wanna try it. You love him too much. But the thought would never leave your mind. What would he act like in his heat? Well, it was your lucky day. Because you came home to a whining lactating man.

“Cho…baby, are you okay?” You rushed to him in concern. Choso was on the bed, hair down with tears in his eyes as he pressed his chest together.

“Babyyy, It hurts. I don't know what is happening.” His hold on your wrist a little too tight. “Fuck. It hurts so bad. Make it stop. Leaking too much and my cock hurts too.” You could hear—feel the desperation in his voice. His cock was on full display as his boxers dangled near his ankles. The swollen tip shining with pre-cum seducing your mouth. But your mouth was needed more elsewhere. You remembered your first sex education class, how men in heat can be relieved if you milk and suck their tits. You discarded your clothes, getting bare and settling on his lap. Your hole rubbing against the body of his shaft as you pressed your tits against his, kissing his forehead.

“Cho shhh. Baby you're fine. You're just in heat. 's gonna be alright. 'm here, okay?” He sniffled as you pampered him. “Gonna take good care of my boyfie.” You left a trail of lipstick stains as you kissed his body, slowly trailing towards the puffy nipples. You looked up at him for consent, only to continue when he whispered a “please”. With your tongue darting out, you soaked in the view before licking a stripe.

“Shit,” Choso cursed. You do it a few more times until you're finally sucking on it like a popsicle. “Fuck. Ah!” It was indeed too much because with only fifteen seconds in, your mouth was already full of his milk, leaking from the corner of your lips. It wasn't a normal amount. But given the fact that it was his first, that too at this age, you brushed it off, focusing back to sucking. You gulped the milk, each sip making you dizzy. It made you grind harder against his cock, moaning along with him. His whimpers making you wet, and his dick enjoying your slippery pussy.

“Wanna cum. Please. Wanna cum, baby.” He begged and you started fastening your pace. The sheets were wet, along with your neck and tits as he shot spurts of sweet milk in your mouth that dripped down your body. Some of it sneaking its way down between his dick and your cunt. You held on to his shoulder, giving his chest a few slaps, making him rut harder against you that the bed started creaking.

“Cumming. Fuck, I am cumming. Ah! Ah! Ah! Ngh—holy fuuuuck!” Your own orgasming cunt could feel his dick twitch as it shot a load out. His hardened nipples turning soft. He immediately cupped your cheeks, pulling you up. “I love you so much, fuck. Thank you.” He said before he kissed you, his tongue lapping against yours, tasting himself on you.

@kiffenisstupid @pastelle-rabbit @lxnarphase @teddybeartoji @rizzmin @yuta-nation @evxelisy @hellkaiserinphoenix @ffsg0jo @princessoflalaland @baekinola @chuuyasboots @cathybarn @togamest @katsukichu @blkkizzat

[dalishious]

The Sanitized Lore of Dragon Age: The Veilguard

Tevinter is the heart of slavery in Thedas. This lore has been established in every game, novel, comic, and other extended material in the Dragon Age franchise to date that so much as mentions the nation. But in Dragon Age: The Veilguard, when we are finally able to actually visit this location for the first time… this rampant slavery we’ve heard so much about is nowhere to be found. It’s talked about here and there; Neve mentions The Viper has a history of freeing slaves, as does Rook themselves if they choose the Shadow Dragon faction as their origin, for example. But walking down the streets of Minrathous, you’d never know. Because Dragon Age: The Veilguard, for all its enjoyment otherwise, has one glaring issue: It’s too clean.

The world of Thedas is full of injustices. Humans persecute elves, fear qunari, and belittle dwarves. Mages of any race are treated like caged animals in most places. The nobility is corrupt. Although, Dragon Age has not always handled these injustices well, mind you. Many, many times I’ve found myself frustrated with moments that just feel like a Racism Simulator. But what makes it worth it, is when you can actually do something about it. These injustices are things that a good-aligned character strives to fight back against, maybe even for very personal reasons. Part of the power-fantasy for many minorities is that this fight feels tangible. I cannot arrange the assassination of a corrupt politician in real life, but I sure can get Celene Valmont stabbed to death in Dragon Age: Inquisition, for example. Additionally, these fictional injustices can be used to make statements on real life parallels, like any source of media. For example, no, the Chant of Light is not real, but acting as a stand-in for Catholicism, through a media analysis lens we can explore what the Chant of Light communicates on a figurative level.

When starting Dragon Age: The Veilguard and selecting to play as an elf – this should be unsurprising to anyone who is familiar with my bias towards them – I was fully prepared to enter the streets of Minrathous and immediately get called “knife-ear” or “rabbit”. But this did not happen. I thought perhaps it was just a prologue thing, but returning to Minrathous once again, there was not a single shred of disapproval from any NPC I encountered that wasn’t a generic enemy to fight. And even the generic enemies, the Tevinter Nationalist cult of the Venatori, didn’t seem to care at all that I was a lineage they deemed inferior before now. This is a stark difference from entering the Winter Palace in Dragon Age: Inquisition and immediately getting hit with court disapproval and insults. Are we now to believe that Tevinter has somehow solved its astronomical racism and classism problems in the ten years since the past game? Or perhaps are we to believe all the characters who have demonstrated Tevinter’s systemic discriminatory views were just lying or outliers? Because it makes absolutely no sense at all for this horribly corrupt nation to not have a shred of reactivity to an elven or qunari Rook prancing around. But here were are, and not a single NPC even recognizes my character’s lineage. And because this is so different from every single past game, it feels weird.

As an elf, you have the option to make a comment about how “too many humans look down on us” in one scene early in the game. You can also talk to Bellara and Davrin, the elven companions, about concerns that people won’t trust elves after finding out about the big bad Ancient Evanuris… but this is presented as if elves don’t already face persecution. It’s all so limited in scope that it could be all too easily missed if you are not paying very close attention, and coming into the game with pre-existing lore knowledge.

All this made it easy to first assume that the developers simply over-corrected an attempt to address the Racism Simulator moments. And if that was the case, than I would at least give credit to effort; they did not find the right balance, but they at least tried. However, the sudden lack of discrimination against different lineages in Dragon Age: The Veilguard is not the only sanitized example of lore present.

In Dragon Age: Origins, Zevran Arainai is a companion who is from the Antivan Crows; a group of assassins. He discusses in detail how the Crows buy children and raise them into murder machines through all kinds of torture. The World of Thedas books also describe how the Antivan Crows work, echoing what Zevran says and expanding that of the recruitment, only a select handful of those taken by the Crows even survive. When you start Dragon Age: The Veilguard as an Antivan Crow, you immediately unlock a re-used codex entry from the past, “The Crows and Queen Madrigal”, that says the following:

“His guild has a reputation to uphold. They are ruthless, efficient, and discreet. How would they maintain such notoriety if agents routinely revealed the names of employers with something as "banal" as torture.”

Ruthless, efficient, and discreet. Torture is banal. This is what the Crows were before Dragon Age: The Veilguard decided to take them in a very different direction. The Antivan Crows in this latest game are painted as freedom fighters against the Antaam occupation of Treviso. Teia calls the Crows “patriots”. And while I can certainly believe that the Crows would have enough motivation to fight back against the Antaam, given that it is in direct opposition to their own goals, I cannot understand why they are suddenly suggested to be morally good. They are assassins. They treat their people like tools and murder for money. Even as recent as the Tevinter Nights story Eight Little Talons, it is addressed that the Antivan Crows are in it for the coin and power, with characters like Teia being outliers for wanting to change that. It makes the use of the older codex all the more confusing, as it sets the Antivan Crows up as something they are no longer portrayed as.

I personally think it would have been really interesting to explore a morally corrupt faction in comparison to say, the Shadow Dragons. Perhaps even as a protagonist, address things like the enslavement of “recruits” to make the faction at least somewhat better. (They are still assassins, after all.) Instead, we’re just supposed to ignore everything unsavory about them, I suppose…

We could discuss even further examples. Like how the Lords of Fortune pillage ruins but it’s okay, because they never sell artifacts of cultural importance, supposedly. Or how the only problem with the Templar Order in Tevinter is just the “bad apples” that work with Venatori. I could go on, but I don’t think I have to.

It is because of all this sanitization, that I cannot believe this was simply over-correction on a developmental part. Especially when there is still racism in the game, in other forms. The impression I’m left with feels far deeper than that; it feels corporate. As if a computer ran through the game’s script and got rid of anything with “too much” political substance. The strongest statements are hidden in codex entries, and I almost suspect they had to be snuck in.

Between a Racism Simulator and just ignoring anything bad whatsoever, I believe a balance is achievable; that sweet spot that actually has something to say about what it is presenting. I know it is achievable, because there are a few bright spots of this that I’ve encountered in Dragon Age: The Veilguard too. For example, some of the codex entries like I mentioned, and almost all the content with the Grey Wardens thus far. It is a shame there is not more content on this level.

Dragon Age: The Veilguard is overall still a fun game, in my opinion. But it’s hard to argue that it isn’t missing the grit of its predecessors. The sharp edges have been smoothed. The claws have been removed. The house has been baby-proofed. And for what purpose?

-----

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[sleepingdiaryzzz]

@errorunfound1

Yandere!neglectful!Batfam x mom!reader

Wayne Manor had always felt vast, but to you, it was more of a void than a home. It was easy to get lost in its endless hallways, in the constant hum of life orbiting Bruce’s nocturnal mission. You married him for love, despite knowing the weight of the life he led. You accepted his scars, his mission, his world. But what you hadn’t expected was how little space there would be left for you in it.

Bruce was always out, chasing shadows, leaving you to navigate a family that seemed determined to keep you at arm’s length. You poured your heart into them—Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian—but your efforts were met with indifference at best and disdain at worst. You had been a mother in every way that mattered, yet the coldness you received in return made your heart ache.

“You don’t have to act like you care,” Jason sneered once when you tried to patch him up after patrol. “We both know you’re just here for him.”

Tim barely acknowledged you unless it was necessary, his head buried in his work. Dick’s smiles, once genuine, now felt like politeness masking discomfort. And Damian, always the sharpest, had no qualms about cutting you down. “You’re not my mother,” he’d said, his words a dagger that twisted in your chest.

Bruce never intervened. When you tried to tell him, his responses were dismissive. “They’ll come around,” he’d say before disappearing into the night. But they never did.

So, you stayed quiet, swallowing the hurt, letting it fester.

One night, you stood in the empty dining room, staring at the cold, untouched dinner you’d prepared. The clock ticked on the wall, counting the hours Bruce was late. Again. You could hear the faint hum of voices from the Batcave below, the family gathered around him while you sat alone.

It wasn’t anger that bubbled up this time. It was resignation.

You left that night, not with a dramatic goodbye, but with a simple bag and a note left on the kitchen counter.

“I love you, but I can’t keep losing myself in a family that doesn’t want me.”

The days without you passed unnoticed at first. Bruce buried himself in his work, assuming you needed time to cool off. The Batkids carried on as usual, their lives too busy to miss the quiet presence you’d once provided.

It was Alfred who noticed first—the meals left uneaten, the flowers on the windowsill wilting. “Sir,” he said carefully one evening, “she’s not coming back.”

Bruce stopped mid-step, his expression flickering. “She just needs time.”

But days turned into weeks, and the absence became impossible to ignore. The manor felt colder, emptier. Jason snapped more often, his temper flaring at the slightest provocation. Tim’s focus wavered, his mistakes piling up in a way they never had before. Damian trained harder, his strikes sharper, but there was a new tension in him, an unease he wouldn’t voice.

“She left us,” Damian said one night, his tone sharp but brittle. “That’s on her.”

“No,” Dick said quietly, guilt heavy in his voice. “It’s on us.”

Bruce found you three weeks later, living in a modest apartment far from the grandeur of Wayne Manor. The door was locked, but that had never been an obstacle for him. He let himself in, his imposing frame filling the doorway as you stood frozen in the kitchen.

“Bruce,” you said, your voice tight.

“Come home.” His tone was soft but firm, the same voice he used to give orders in the field.

Your laugh was bitter, hollow. “Home? That place hasn’t felt like home in years.”

His jaw tightened, the only sign of his frustration. “You belong there. With me. With them.”

“I belonged there once,” you said, your voice breaking. “But I spent years trying to love a family that couldn’t love me back. Do you even realize how much it hurt, Bruce? To be invisible in my own home?”

He stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate. “I didn’t see it. I should have. But I’m here now.”

“Too late,” you whispered, tears spilling over.

But Bruce Wayne was not a man who gave up easily. His hand reached out, brushing against yours. “You think I’ll let you go that easily?” His voice dropped, a dangerous edge slipping into his tone. “You’re mine. You always have been.”

You pulled away, shaking your head. “You don’t love me, Bruce. You love control. You love having someone waiting for you. But I won’t be that person anymore.”

The silence between you was heavy, suffocating. His eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, you thought he might let you go. But Bruce was nothing if not persistent.

“You’re coming home,” he said, his voice soft but unyielding.

Before you could respond, his hand shot forward, pressing a syringe into your arm. The sharp sting was followed by a wave of dizziness, and your legs buckled.

“Bruce,” you gasped, your vision swimming as he caught you.

“It’s for your own good,” he murmured, his arms cradling you as darkness pulled you under.

(A/n: this is why I don't take money 😅 writing shi asf 😔🔥 chat did I cook or am I cooked?)

[gloomwitchwrites]

Locker Room

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, enemies-ish to lovers, sexual tension, arguments, suggestive themes, intimate touching, teasing, dirty thoughts

A/N: For @glitterypirateduck 's Ghost Writing Challenge. I used prompts 43, 97, & 99. (I had so much fun challenging myself to do this all in one go. I set a timer and everything.)

After finding an infuriating note on your desk, you confront Simon in the communal locker room.

Part Two // Simon's POV

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist

Beneath your skin is an inferno.

It’s not the kind that blazes for another, or burns in tandem with a deep yearning. This is just seething anger and blunt frustration.

You’re ready to knock out some fucking teeth.

How dare he? Who the fuck does Lieutenant Riley think he is?

When you return reports to Captain Price, you point out all the inconsistences and errors. The lack of accountability and absolute carelessness has been scratching at you for ages, and this time you had enough. Usually Price shrugs, fixes whatever you’ve marked—to a degree—and then returns them without argument.

This time? Price took one look at them and told you to talk to Simon.

Not a problem. No issue at all. You and Lieutenant Riley have always been on good terms. Sometimes, it’s been more than good. You’ve caught him staring for far too long, or he stands a bit too close as if the two of you are a couple and not coworkers. And while you’ve internalized the fantasy, it’s not like you’ve ever acted on it.

But now you’re just irritated.

You handed over the files yesterday evening, and this morning you found them back on your desk. It’s not the turnaround but Lieutenant Riley’s audacity of placing those files back on your desk with a singular sticky note.

The reports are just fine, sweetheart.

Sweetheart. Sweetheart?

The other day you imagined what it might be like to have the burly, masked man call you a pet name, but this is just fucking condescending.

Your heels clack sharply against the linoleum floor. Perhaps it’s the rage in your face, because every person you meet on your rampage steps out of your way, their gaze averted. Rounding a corner, you exit through a side door and into one of the hangars. A few people glance up, frowning, but return to their job.

Sighing heavily, you approach the nearest person. “Where’s Lieutenant Riley?”

The young man—who looks right out recruitment—glances up. He swallows and peers over his shoulder as if he’s not sure he’s supposed to say. “Locker room, ma’am?”

“Thank you,” you reply sharply, turning on your heel and heading for another door leading to the communal gym.

“But—” he begins, stumbling to his feet as you charge on. “Ma’am! You can’t—”

The door slams shut behind you and you don’t look back.

This is one of several communal spaces. There are the usual training areas on base but there are also a few gyms for those that want to get a bit of extra work in. Every head turns toward you and many don’t look away. This one is just for the men, and you’re the odd duck.

And fuck it. You don’t care. You’re too fucking mad right now to think of anything else but giving Lieutenant Riley a piece of your goddamn mind.

With everything pumping in your veins, the reality of you storming toward the locker rooms hasn’t even dawned. Hasn’t clicked. Fury laces your every step, and even here, where you’re not supposed to be, the men in your path move as if they sense the rage.

When you burst through the door and meet a wall of steam, all the heat suddenly extinguishes. Glancing around, you’re met with wide-eyed stares and surprised expressions.

Keeping your gaze as upward as you can, you clear your throat. “Where is Lieutenant Riley?”

There is only silence. Maybe if you stare at the top of the lockers for long enough, you’ll somehow gather your courage again.

“I asked where Lieutenant—”

“I’m right here.”

You turn abruptly and freeze.

Lieutenant Simon Riley stands before you in nothing but a towel. It hangs low on his hips. Other than that, the bottom-half of his face is covered up by a black mask and his dog tags dangle from his neck. His hair is a wet, tussled mess, and his chest glistens with water like he just stepped out from the shower.

Simon simply stares at you for a moment as you stand in utter silence. His gaze, which is piercing and fierce, slides away to scan the room. He doesn’t have to say anything. The rest of the men in the room grab bags and clothes, rushing to exit through the door you just entered from.

When the last man leaves, Simon rolls his shoulders, straightening his spine. It makes him appear larger, more intimidating, and that one movement draws forth a heat in your belly. This isn’t anger. This is need.

“I know what you came here for,” he says, and it’s so casual a tone that the earlier rage comes rising up.

“I’m sure you do,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.

Simon says nothing. His dark eyes remain on you, unmoving and cold, yet pinning you to the spot as if you’ve been impaled by a spear.

“Are you going to apologize?”

“Why?” he asks automatically.

You scoff. “Are you fucking serious?”

“You didn’t come here for an apology.”

You uncross your arms and hold them out in front of you, bent at the elbows. “The reports—”

“The reports are fine.”

You roll your eyes and throw your hands up in the air. “There are inconsistencies everywhere. I can’t submit them as they are.”

Simon rolls his neck and then strides forward. Instinct has you stepping back, moving away, but you bump into a row of lockers. He doesn’t stop until he’s leaning over you, one large hand pressing into the metal to the side of your head.

“You’re nitpicking,” he replies.

“About lazy writing?”

“Oh, love. I assure you. I’m thorough.” At that, Simon leans in, and your hands rise instinctually, pressing against his firm chest.

Simon’s gaze doesn’t drop from your face. His entire attention is on you and that heat is back, twisting in your stomach, stirring up a slickness between your legs.

“Lieutenant,” you breathe, wanting the need between your legs to leave but also loving how close he is.

Sure, you’re pissed off but my god. The fresh scent of him is intoxicating, and you’re doing everything in your power not to lean in and lick up the droplet of water running along the side of his throat.

“Why did you come here?” He waits a beat, and when you don’t reply, Simon continues. “To argue?” He lightly pinches your bottom chin, his thumb pressing against your bottom lip, dragging it down a bit. You open your mouth involuntarily and Simon makes at sound in his throat that makes your legs weak. “To see me?” He leans in like he’s about to kiss you. “To be alone?”

“I didn’t ask for this,” you whisper.

Simon has you caged in. Pinned. The only thing separating your body and his is that towel.

“Why do you think everyone left when they did?” Simon’s thumb drops away from your lips only to press at the hollow of your throat. “It’s not because you walked in.”

“Why?” you ask, as Simon’s thumb drags lowers over your top to the space between your breasts.

“Because you’re mine. And they know it.”

“You—what?” Without anywhere to go, you can’t escape his intense stare.

“I’m staking a claim.”

“Lieutenant—”

“Simon,” he growls. “Call me Simon.”

“Simon,” you say, and he groans.

His dog tags brush against your fingers. The metal is slightly cool and damp. You curl on finger around the chain, and tug, bringing Simon’s face down to yours. If he can tease and touch, you’re going to do the same. He can’t have all the power.

Your lips brush against his through the mask, and Simon’s eyelids begin to close, revealing his gentle submission in this moment. Deepening the movement, you kiss him as if there were no barrier. This time, he truly groans, and you’d give anything to remove the barriers between you and find out what it’s like to feel him deep inside.

Fisting his dog tags in your hand, you shove him away, but only enough that there is a fraction of distance.

“Fix the fucking reports, Simon.”

Instead of kissing him again, or even touching him, you unclench your fist, releasing the dog tags. Slipping under his arm, you exit through the door and out into the gym, leaving a trail of steam in your wake.

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[maxriss]

✮⋆˙ FOR THE LOVE OF KINDER MAXIS — LN4

College!Lando Norris x Reader / library

Syn. Lando Norris has been sneaking you some sweet treats begging you please to answer his one question — will you go out with him?

It was the morning of a Tuesday, I had a family law class followed by a penology class for the day before getting a break. It was just one of those days where life seemed to be giving me a break from the constant noise and cha—

“Hey love, miss me?” Lando Norris breezed past me, turning around to leave me with a wink. The crinkling of the plastic in my hand suffocated as my grip tightened over the treat he pushed into my palms.

Kinder Maxi.

From across the hall, Lando watched with barely concealed anticipation. “Would you smile this time? Would you—” I stuffed the Kinder Maxi into my pocket without even looking at the note. He groaned, smacking his forehead against the locker. This is getting ridiculous. My smile remained hidden behind my pursed lips.

It’s been the same since last month really, Lando surprised me with kinder maxis everywhere I could least expect it.

It started with the barrage of kinder maxis falling over from my locker with a note —

“U up for dinner? - LN”

Which I crumpled and pocketed with a small smile. Counting the 4 chocolates and looking around finding Lando a few metres away leaning against the pole looking at me. What a sly chap.

The next kinder maxi was on my laptop which I’d left in the library to go get some water. Attached with a note again —

“U can’t ignore me forever. Say yes? — LN”

I sighed at his antics. Although undeniably enjoying watching him deadpan seeing me simply bagging the chocolate and the note. It was cute.

The third kinder maxi hit home. Lando placed it outside my dorm door having knocked and dashed.

“I swear I’m not a stalker. Just very determined. - LN”

My roommate found it hilarious. I found it cute. Again.

Since then it has been bags of kinder maxis — sometimes he’ll even throw in a kinder egg — for me to find them scattered across the area of my existence. He would sneak them into my tote or have them neatly placed on my designated desk or on the hood of my car or in one of my gym shoes or on my doorstep after having rung the bell and run off or throwing it through my window.

My favourite happened to be when he would get slightly frustrated and come up to me himself, hand stretched out with a lone kinder maxi with the same words he’d write on the note he’d stick to the chocolate — will you go out with me?

It’d always end up with me grabbing the chocolate and taking a bite out of it while smiling at Lando from wherever he peeks — and he always does — at me. Leaving him confused. His nose scrunched up comically leaving me in a fit with chocolate down my throat.

This Tuesday tho, after having pocketed the chocolate and left Lando flabbergasted yet again, I skipped to my lecture as the bell rang. I had a sweet treat up my sleeve today as well. I reached the class spotting a kinder maxi on my desk again. How much money does this guy have, I thought to myself. These things weren’t inexpensive. However, I happily grabbed it ripping the cover off as I read the note.

“For the love of kinder maxis woman. I know you like these chocolates. Might as well like the delivery guy. — LN”

What a cute guy.

The bell rang again finishing the lecture, I was up in no time rushing to penology. The lecture I shared with Lando. Opening the door I found him hunched over his desk in a green hoodie, hands at the back of his head as talked away with Max. His laugh was so cute to my ears that I felt like melting right away. Especially when he says “Uh huh”

Lord I’m definitely not your strongest soldier.

Max saw me and nudged Lando who glanced at me as he sat straighter looking at me with hopeful eyes. I decided to sit right next to him today. Surprised the lad. Before he could say anything the professor came in. The poor guy spent the entire lecture shocked and happy. Restlessly fidgeting staring at me and playing with the drawstrings of his hoodie.

It was like watching a puppy trying not to be excited.

The bell rang soon enough and Lando was quick to turn to me. I placed a kinder maxi in front of him this time. He gawked at the chocolate and then at me. He looked up again — his beautiful eyes searching mine. I looked up at him with my face resting on my palms.

Staring at him freely this time letting the smile I would bite on show. Hoping my eyes would say everything I was dying to show him. I beckoned at the chocolate with my jaw pointing at the pink little note I had stuck to it.

Lando slowly reached for it, still not believing this was happening. Picking the note —

“Fine, you win. But only because my self-control crumbled faster than a Kinder Maxi in my hands. Pick me up at 7, loverboy. — Y/N”

Before Lando could react, I closed the distance between us, kissing his cheek as gently as I could — my hands cupping his jaw. Lando was too flabbergasted to respond. He turned his head towards me. A bashful smile adorned his face.

“The kinder maxis are fucking magic.”

reblog and follow <3 all rights reserved ©maxriss please do not copy, save, or translate my stories. this is no place for hate and violence, kindly maintain love and peace.

[unorthodoxfaithxx]

Yandere Ghost Smut

afab reader ; nsfw

“This house is totally perfect! You’ll love it,” is what your realtor told you when they finally found a house within your budget. You loved the aesthetics of historical homes, so when they discovered an older house that not only was in your price range, but had just minor damages, they called you immediately. 

You moved in within the month. It didn’t take long to settle into your new home. There was a room with shelves meant for books, and you spent most of your free time there, enjoying the books from your collection that could rival a library. Sometimes, you would feel a sudden chill in the air when reading, and grow pensive. It would feel like someone was watching you. But besides that, nothing was out of the ordinary. You just assumed you were too stressed out and growing paranoid as a result. Everything was fine.

Well, it was. Until you started waking up with strange markings on your body. You woke up one day in a cold sweat, waltzing into the bathroom to wash your face off, only to find what looked like hickeys on your neck and upper chest area. Weird. Did you have bugs in the bed? Was it an allergic reaction to the new detergent you bought for the sheets? You had no idea. 

You were never able to solve the issue because the markings disappeared within a few hours, and didn’t come back again. Once more, you shrugged it off and assumed nothing was amiss. 

Yet eventually, things got even stranger. Your panties started disappearing one-by-one, and you were sure you hadn’t misplaced them. Specifically, your already worn undergarments would disappear from the dirty laundry bin before you could wash them. What the fuck?

“I don’t know, Mary,” you call your best friend one afternoon, “I feel like this place is haunted. And what’s even weirder is I keep getting these wet dreams…like every night. I’m not even sexually frustrated so I don’t know why I wake up wet or with markings on myself.”

“Maybe you got a ghost fucking ya?” She jokes around and you both get a laugh out of that. But for some reason, the deepest part of your being can’t dismiss that thought. 

You begin to grow paranoid and start searching for any signs in your house that someone else is living with you. You decide to enter the dusty attic, and find rather antique furniture and a box containing a photo of a man and a woman. He was handsome, albeit a little creepy looking, but what struck you as odd was woman next to him. She looked eerily like you. You brought the photos downstairs to do some research on your computer, but alas, found no information on the man or the woman. The only thing you found out was that there was a fire that had damaged the property all too many years ago. You felt the creepy sensation of being watched again, and called it quits for the night, opting to get some much needed rest.

That night, you saw him.

————————————————————

It’s midnight when he appears in your room, watching your beautiful self slumber. You were so perfect, all those years ago when you left him, and even now. He loves the way the sheets drape your body, but slowly peels them off to reveal that you’re in nothing but a bra and panties. There is a slight sheen of sweat on your skin as your eyebrows furrow cutely in your sleep. 

His angel must be having a nightmare, but he can take care of that. Gently, he trails his cold fingers over your curves. He admires your beauty, so happy to see you once more. He can’t wait another minute.

While you’re still on your side, he unclasps your bra, relishing the way your tits fall free without the support. They look so beautiful and perfect, he can’t even begin to describe how enchanted you make him feel. 

You roll onto your back. He slides your underwear to the side, revealing your pretty cunt to his ghostly eyes. With a delicate touch, he rubs your clit in small circles, playing with you. 

You gasp at the touch and he smirks. Your shuffling does little to deter him from his objective.

He’s on the bed with you, intently staring at your lower half. He admires your folds and moves them open and closed with his fingers, revealing a leaking hole that was your wetness. With a gulp, he slides your underwear off you, wadding it into a ball, burying his face into it as he takes a whiff of your scent. He’d be tasting the real thing soon enough. Once satisfied, he pockets your undies for safe keeping. He tilts his head down to your lower body, shifting into a more comfortable position. With a breath of anticipation, he slithers his cold tongue over your vagina, moaning slightly at the sensation. 

He’s been doing this every night he could manifest, and it never got tiring.

This time, and he doesn’t know why, you wake up, staring down at the mysterious man in terror as he laps you up like a man thirsting in the desert. You mean to run but you can’t move. You feel something cold and wet tying your body to the bed. You try to close your legs from your violator, but his icu hands grip firmly on your thighs, keeping them wide open for him to shove his face between. 

Under the moonlight, the two of you make eye contact but he doesn’t stop, instead opting to send you a wicked smile. “Good morning, love,” he says gently from beneath you. “I missed you so, so much. You know that?”

You’re in a state of shock, words screaming in your head but not quite reaching your vocal chords. The only sound you can make is a whimper as he shoves his tongue further into you, his nose rubbing you causing further pleasurable friction. He sucks, licks, and rolls your clit with his tongue. 

Suddenly, he slides a cold finger into your hole and you gasp, arching your back only to be stuck back down again. “Don’t move, pretty thing,” he scolds you. 

“F-fuck,” you finally manage to whisper, heart racing, “Who are you?”

“Someone who’s been watching you for a very, very long time.” He’s stopped licking you, instead moving to pump another finger into your pretty cunt, thrusting in and out at a moderate pace. His eyes show so much love, desperation, and lust in them that you have no idea what to do or where to go. Then it clicks. The man from the photo. That’s who he was. How could that be possible? Was he an actual ghost?

“I’ve been so lonely without you, princess. When you left me to burn, do you know how heartbroken I was? But now you’re back, and we can finally be together again. I’m not letting you leave me another time.”

He now has three fingers inside of you, picking up the pace. The lewd sound of slick fingers sliding in and out of your cunt drives him wild. His face is back between your thighs again, lapping you up and suckling on you until you’re visibly shaking. 

“Aw, sweet girl. Gonna cum?”

You don’t want to, but you feel something hot and heavy coming.

“Shit. Cum in my mouth, sweetheart. Wanna taste everything you got.” He latches back onto you. 

Your stomach drops and you let go, mind very distressed but body obviously in heaven. Your pussy spazzes out on him and he moans as he licks up the mess you leave behind. With a wipe of his mouth he grins, eying you like a rare prize he had just one at the fair.

He grabs onto you, embracing you in a hug you can’t run away from. Seriously, why can’t you move? He notices your struggles and laughs, snuggling into your chest. 

“Ah ah ah, no running away, love. I’ve waited so long for you. You’re not going anywhere.”

He flips you to where you’re face down, ass up. Your vagina is dripping, juices sliding down your thigh. He licks his lips before biting his lower one, admiring the roundness of your ass and your now puffy and pink pussy. 

“Oh, love. You got no idea what you do to me…”

You feel something cold and hard tap the entrance of your walls, and you freeze. Oh god, was he going to fuck you? His hands are on the sides of your ass, but you feel another set of cold hands grabbing your arms, and even another pulling at your tits. You whimper at the overstimulation.

“Enjoy the hands. They’re all me.”

Before you can reply, he’s sliding his dick through your entrance. Your pussy quivers at the sensation and he laughs. “Did you just come from that, love?”

Once you take all of him, he leans forward to whisper in your ear. “I want to hear you moan, sweetheart. Go on, make some noise for me.”

As he’s taking you from behind, a hand shoves its fingers into your mouth, and you gag on it. The sets of hands on your breasts are now fondling them, pinching and squeezing. You’ve never felt so much at once before, and you eventually yield to the pleasure, moaning as he thrusts into you.

“That’s it, baby. Take it. Take it all. You’re fucking mine,” He snarls, and you whine at how hard he’s pounding into you, ferocity now evident in his demeanor. 

You slurp and suck on the fingers, only for it to pop out of your mouth and slide into your ass instead. You cry out at the sensation. A hand is sliding circles around your clit as he fucks you, sending waves of pleasure over your body you’ve never known before. 

“Too much!” You cry, sobbing with pleasure.

He gives you a kiss on the neck. “Almost done, love. Just keep taking it, okay? You’re doing so good for me. God, you’re fucking perfect.” His thrusts became sporadic, and you know he’s close. 

In the end, you come once more, and you feel he does too. When he pulls out, you collapse on the bed, blacking out. Morning eventually comes, and you feel someone is holding you from behind. A set of hands grope your body as you wake up. 

“Morning, love. Ready for round two?”

[fastandcarlos]

Victim Of A Bad Day : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: after what can only be described as a nightmare of a day, oscar ends up coming home only to take it all out on you

Your smile was soft as Oscar walked through the apartment, putting your phone down and rising to your feet. You went over to him, holding your arms out, but Oscar’s head shook back at you. 

“Please, no,” he told you, walking straight past you through the living room and into the kitchen. 

You turned around as you watched Oscar walk away, debating what to do next. You slowly followed behind as you watched him grab a glass from out of the cupboard and fill it with water. Every movement was done with a sigh, thudding around the place like a toddler running around. 

“I’m guessing your day could’ve been better?” You asked, trying to bring a smile to his face. 

You stood and waited for Oscar to acknowledge you, but instead he carried on walking around. His head was down as he moved, his eyes not even looking across in your direction, as if you weren’t there. 

“Oscar, you know I’m here for you,” you told him, beginning to get concerned with his behaviour. It was unlike Oscar to be so quiet, to close off from you and deal with everything all by himself. 

A shrug came from Oscar as he walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, throwing himself down on the sofa. He grabbed his phone, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table, almost groaning when he noticed that you had followed right behind him. 

“So, we’ll just spend our evening in silence, shall we?” You asked, perching on the end of the sofa. 

“Suits me,” Oscar bluntly responded, still staring down at his phone, ignoring the sigh that came from across the room from you. 

Your head shook in disbelief at how cold Oscar was, never had you seen this side of him before. “I don’t know what’s happened today Oscar, but you could try and at least treat me with even the smallest bit of dignity tonight.” 

“Just leave me alone,” Oscar requested, throwing his arms up into the air. “Just because I’ve not come home and thrown my arms around you and talked your ear off doesn’t mean I need constant questions. Just take the hint and give me a bit of space.” 

Your body tensed up at how loud Oscar’s voice was, not quite sure how to react. “You’re not you Oscar, what would you like me to do? Pretend that everything is fine? I didn’t realise that caring about you was such a crime, next time I won’t bother worrying about you.” 

“I don’t need caring for, I haven’t asked you too,” Oscar replied. 

Your eyes widened in surprise at what Oscar had to say, stunned by how blunt he was. Perhaps you had been a little overbearing, but all you were guilty of was worrying about him.  

“That’s fine then,” you told Oscar, picking up your phone and sitting opposite him. You sat back, stretching out across the sofa, deciding to switch off to the fact that Oscar was even in the room. 

His eyes watched you though, shaking his head as you mimicked him. “I don’t ever remember asking for someone to worry about me, you know I’ve survived long enough all by myself.” 

Your heart ached as Oscar spoke, the hurt clear on your face as your eyes flickered across to Oscar. As he met your eyes, Oscar’s frustration disappeared, replaced by concern that he was the reason for your disappointment.  

“I don’t even know what to say,” you shrugged, shaking your head disapprovingly, full of despair. Rising to your feet, Oscar kept an eye on you as you left the room and went into your bedroom. 

Time apart was exactly what the two of you needed as you let the events sink in. You were both full of anger and upset, unable to believe that the two of you could ever have such an argument. It was unlike any other disagreement that you’d had with Oscar, leaving you rather shellshocked as you laid down on your bed. 

You found yourself staring up at the ceiling as you replayed the argument again and again in your head. A shiver ran down your spine each time you heard Oscar’s voice in your head, the resentment and annoyance so clear, somehow you being the reason for it too. 

After a while, you could hear Oscar moving through the apartment, knowing exactly where he was heading. You picked up your phone to make yourself look busy as the bedroom door opened, with Oscar quietly walking in, sitting on the end of the bed. 

You didn’t respond as Oscar turned to face you, laying himself down beside you. His hand rested against your stomach as he tried to get your attention, knowing that he had plenty of making up to do. 

“I’m sorry,” Oscar murmured, “the way I behaved then was completely unreasonable and out of order.” 

You placed your phone down, brows knitting together as you glanced across at Oscar. His heart sunk as he saw how upset you still were, guilt eating away at him knowing it was all his fault. 

“I don’t want to hear it.” 

“Please,” Oscar sighed, expecting you to dismiss him. “I shouldn’t have said what I said, I know that you care so much, and that’s one of my favourite things about you. Having you take care of me is the best feeling in the world, I don’t know what I’d do without you around to support me.” 

As your body turned slightly to face Oscar, you could see a faint smile on his face. Knowing that you were at least listening to him was a start for Oscar, hardly expecting you to fall into his arms and forgive him as quick as a flash, but at least it was a sign. 

“I don’t care how bad your day is Oscar; I don’t expect to be spoken to like that. I was only caring, and maybe I was a little too much, but if you’d have just told me that you needed space then I would’ve known what you needed from me, rather than just being shouted at.” 

“I was stupid,” Oscar told you, “there’s no explanation for it, bad day or not.” 

You could see the effects of the day in Oscar’s eyes, there was barely any colour there, letting you know just how bad of a day he must’ve had. 

“Everyone has good days and bad days,” you whispered, “including me, but yours are not my fault. I don’t want you to shut me out Oscar, I want to be able to help you, even if there’s very little I can do, at least it’s something.” 

His head nodded, pressing a kiss against the top of your shoulder. You were spot on, you were the last person to blame for how Oscar’s day went, you just so happened to be in the wrong place in the wrong time. 

“I’m always here for you,” you reminded Oscar, “it doesn’t matter what’s happened, you know I’m always going to be with you, right?” 

He continued nodding as you spoke. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I don’t appreciate you being with me today, because I do appreciate it, more than anything.” 

“Will you remind yourself of that next time you come home after a bad day?” 

“I promise that I’ll never forget it.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[orchidseason]

dom!caitvi ‹𝟹 how they punish you when you disobey them

caitvi x fem!reader

warnings ‹𝟹 word count 2.6k, FILTH, threesome, bratty sub!reader, impact play (ass, face, cunt), hair pulling (r!receiving), kissing, oral/face sitting (caitlyn!receiving), strap blow job (vi!receiving), strap in v (r!receiving), orgasm denial, derogatory, modern!au, allusion to more sex

You went to the club they’d specifically told you not to. You went with the friends they’d warned you about countless times. You wore that outfit they said you shouldn’t wear in public. You went against every command they’d ever given, sneaking out while they were asleep, fully aware you’d be in a world of trouble if they ever found out.

What brought it on? A bratty streak, perhaps. Or maybe a desire to see the frustration in their eyes—to watch as they looked at you with disdain. It ignited something inside you, something like adrenaline.

It was around two in the morning now—not that you were aware, too consumed by the way time flew when you were having fun. Too much fun, really; you almost forgot that tonight’s escape was strictly forbidden. The lights blinded you, and the music had surely blown your eardrums out—but you hadn’t stopped smiling. The bodies pressed around you, the heat building up and leaving a shiny layer of sweat on your skin as you danced in circles. The rhythm of the bass was distracting, almost a blurring vibration from the object buzzing on your side, tucked inside the waistband of your skirt. Took until you walked away from the dance floor to grab a drink of water that you were aware of your phone ringing. 

Once glance at the caller receipt and a chill runs down your back. Caitlyn Kiramman. 

The call rings through and just then do you notice the amount of times she’s called you–they’ve called you. You feel your heart race, gripping your phone tight as you move your way through the crowd to step somewhere quiet. With a quick sigh, you pick up when they call again.

You lean against a wall, breathing in a deep sigh, the weight of your decision finally hitting you.

You hit the green button just as it rings again.

"Hey, Cait," you say, your voice unsteady, even to your own ears.

"Are you aware of the time?" she says, her voice icy—too controlled. Too calm. A cold shiver runs through you.

You glance at your phone again. 2:36 a.m.

"I—" Your words catch in your throat, your heart racing with a mix of guilt and the adrenaline still humming through your veins. The excitement of the night is quickly replaced by the heavy weight of reality.

"Do you realize what you’ve done?" Caitlyn’s voice is the sharp crack of a whip, yet it carries a sense of something darker—a warning wrapped in cool detachment. You can feel the weight of her gaze even over the phone, the silence between her words stretching like a promise of something you’re not sure you can handle.

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “I didn’t—"

“I know,” she interrupts, her voice like ice, but there’s something dangerous beneath it. 

The intensity in her words hits you like a punch to the gut, the reality of the situation fully crashing down. You’re no longer in control—Caitlyn is. You had your fun, and now you’re in for it.

"Look outside," Caitlyn commands, her voice steady but with a bite of authority that sends a shiver down your spine. "I have someone waiting outside for you."

Just as she’s said, your eyes glance outside the windows and there lies a car–the driver inside already making eye contact with you. Your stomach twists, the adrenaline from earlier now mixing with a rush of guilt. You knew this would come—knew the price for your defiance was inevitable.

"Now, before I have to come get you myself," she adds, a thread of danger lacing her words. The message is clear: she’s over it–and you’re sure Vi is too.

Taking a deep breath, you head toward the exit, your mind already racing with what’s to come. You don’t want to face either of them, but it’s far too late to turn back now. No worded apology will fix this.

The closer you get to the exit, the heavier your steps feel, as if the weight of your choices is pressing down on you with every movement. The music from inside the club feels like a distant echo now, swallowed by the pounding of your own heartbeat. Your mind flashes back to the night—your defiance, the rush, the adrenaline that now feels like a distant memory compared to the looming consequences you’re about to face.

You reach the door and step outside into the cool night air. The car is parked just a few feet away, the engine idling as the driver remains silent, staring straight ahead. The man sitting in the driver’s seat doesn’t need to say anything; you can tell from the way he’s watching you that Caitlyn’s already made it clear what he’s here for.

The car door opens for you, but you hesitate for a moment, glancing at the club one last time. You could run. You could try to get lost in the night, to make a break for it and leave everything behind. But deep down, you know better than to think you’d get away that easily.

With a resigned sigh, you step into the car. The door shuts with a soft thud, and the man pulls away from the curb without a word. The city lights blur past, and the car moves through the streets with an almost eerie quiet. The tension is palpable, and you know it’s only a matter of time before you reach them. The silence feels suffocating, the weight of the situation pressing down on you from all sides.

Every minute that passes is another reminder that you’re out of control, and the reality of what you’ve done is starting to sink in. They may not be here right now, but you know they’ve already made sure you’ll pay for this. The man driving doesn’t say a word, but you can feel the gravity of the moment in the way he steers the car, his focus unwavering.

It’s not until the car slows down that you realize where you are—outside your place. He opens the door for you, wishing you a goodnight before he drives off. You take a breath, trying to shake off the buzzing energy from the night, but it’s not quite as easy as you thought. You may have snuck away tonight—may have done what they told you not to do just to get a rise out of them—but now, stepping into the house, you can feel the weight of that decision hanging over you.

The living room comes into view, and there they are. Caitlyn’s lounging on the couch, perfectly poised, effortlessly elegant, head resting on her hand. Next to her is Vi—arms crossed, leaning casually against the wall, eyes glinting with something darker. Caitlyn looks up as you step in, her eyes immediately locking with yours and raises an eyebrow–Vi following. This was the moment you’ve been waiting for, this is what motivated you to have done the things you’ve done.

Caitlyn doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything at first, but her eyes never leave yours. The silence stretches, and for a moment, it feels like she’s waiting for you to speak first. To admit what you’ve done. But Caitlyn never rushes. She waits for you to come to her.

Vi, on the other hand, doesn’t have the patience for silence. Her arms uncross, and she steps forward, her eyes narrowing. “You think you’re clever, huh?” Her voice is low but sharp, full of frustration. She’s angry—so angry—but there’s something else in her eyes too. Something that only makes her more dangerous. "Sneaking out. Breaking the rules. You really thought you could get away with that?"

You meet her gaze, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Maybe I wanted to see if you’d catch me."

Vi’s jaw clenches, and for a moment, it looks like she’s about to step forward and do something—anything—but Caitlyn’s eyes flick to her, and Vi freezes. Caitlyn doesn’t have to speak. She doesn’t need to raise her voice to get people to listen. Her eyes look back to you, “get yourself to our room.”

It’s all she says, and now she waits for you to scurry away like the little mouse you were. And you do, one foot after another you make your way down the hallway. You know what to do once you’ve walked in, but instead of doing it–you make one last taunt by keeping the skimpy skirt and off the shoulder shirt outfit on. You hear them talking outside, hushed whispers–one sounding like a melody, the other sounding frustrated–heated. Ten minutes later and they’re entering the room, your body shuddering under their roaming eyes.

“Firstly, you remember your safeword–yeah? Repeat it to me.”

You pick at your nail, “red.”

“Secondly. Repeat all the ways you’ve disobeyed so you’re aware of why this is happening.”

Vi walks off for a moment, walking into the walk-in closet while Caitlyn stands there waiting–eyes steady on you.

“I snuck out, I wore a skimpy outfit, I went with friends you don't like, and I went to the bar you told me not to go to.”

Caitlyn hums, “how we’ve decided to punish you is as follows. One, you won’t be coming tonight. Two, you will receive ten slaps to your cunt. Three, we will be using you until we feel you’ve learned your lesson. Understood?”

You nod and Caitlyn’s quick to grab your jaw tight–pulling you to face her directly–a gasp leaving you. 

“Answer me” she says cooly.

“Yes,” you say, hands coming up to hold onto her wrist, “yes, I understand.”

Vi walks out then, strap settled on her waist. She maneuvers you onto your back, pushing your legs to either side of you–your short skirt riding up and revealing you bare to her. A huff escapes her at the sight, “such a fucking whore.”

She brings her hand down on your thigh, grinning at the gasp you let out. Her length slides between your thighs, rubbing just right on your clit. 

“I bet your cunts still molded to this dick,” she whispers, watching as you clench around nothing each time she slides her length past your hole and up to your clit. You grip the bed sheets, rolling your hips. Her hands come to grip your waist, holding you still. 

“Nuh uh, none of that.”

She moves her length away, her hand replacing where it once was–fingers circling your clit. Whines spill from your throat, pleasure building before she snaps her hand right down onto your cunt. All that pleasure slips away, the feeling now burning. Your eyes snap open, looking up at Vi. 

She’s rubbing your clit again, “count. What number was that?”

“One…”

She cracks her hand down again. “Two...” And again. “Three–!” And again. “F-four–!” Repeatedly until she's reached ten and your cunt’s swollen and red. She spreads your folds, “fuck–look at you. Turned on by that?”

You’re panting on the bed, chest rising and falling–happy you got that out of the way. Behind your head you hear the bedsheets rustle before Caitlyn’s straddled right over your head, glistening cunt right over your face. No words spoken as she grabs your hair and jerks your head forward onto her. You understand, licking a stripe up her–hearing her moan above you. It’s then that Vi pushes in, her length spreading you out wide. You momentarily stop eating Caitlyn out to cry out as she slowly drives each inch in. Caitlyn’s disapproving of you stopping, so in response she lowers her hips to push herself against your nose and lips again.

Vi takes notice and slaps your ass, “don’t get lazy. Eat her out.”

Your tongue works on her again, your moaning vibrating against her clit just right. Vi’s now nestled in you, grinding her hips up–tip of her pushing against that spongy part, the one that lets you see stars. With Vi fucking into you, and Caitlyn rubbing her wet cunt all over your tongue–you’re in heaven, mind floating away. You may have enjoyed the club for the time being, but this is where you feel you belong. 

Vi sets a pace, one that could be described as rough–bruising. It repeatedly hits that spot, one time you swear you saw white flash in your vision. You try your best to be consistent with Caitlyn, but at this point you just have your tongue spread–letting her work you how she wishes. She reaches her edge first, body suffocating you for a moment as she comes–thighs shaking on either side of your head. When she sits up, you gasp for air–sputtering on your moans as Vi continues to use you like a rag doll. She looks down at you, sweat trailing down her abs. She’s fucking you so good you’ve forgotton it’s a punishment and you weren’t allowed to come. 

She watches as your face begins to contort, and hears the way your breaths get higher pitched. Caitlyn does too and she angles herself–hand gripping your face to turn towards her. 

“Need to come don’t you, mm? Want to so badly? What is Vi fucking you so good?”

You nod at everything she’s saying and she connects her palm to your face–not too harshly but enough that it stings. She’s quick to grab your face again, forcing you to look deep into her eyes.

“Answer my questions, tell us. Or are you too much of a cock slut to think right now?”

You shake your head, “no! No, it–ah shit! It feels so good... thank you..”

Vi only hums in response. Caitlyn lets go of your face, rolling her eyes, “she’s too fucked out to give a good enough answer.”

She rests her hand on Vi’s hip, pressing a soft kiss to Vi’s cheek, “you can stop now, she’s had enough.”

Vi looks to Caitlyn, almost a little confused, “but I’ve just started–”

“I have other plans.”

Vi responds, pulling her length out despite your small protest. Now at this point your mind’s fuzzy, subspace having taken over–too consumed and focused on pleasure. All of what was bratty earlier is gone. And they know that. Caitlyn’s expression is amused as she speaks to Vi again, “have her suck you off. Do so until she’s teary eyed, letting you use her however, mm?”

Vi nods, leaning down to grip your hair, repeating to you, “hear that?”

You nod, “yes... yes, I heard her.”

“Then get on your knees.”

The blanket falls with you as you slide your body onto the ground, far-away eyes looking up into Vi’s. She slaps her length on the side of your cheek, chuckling at how your bottom lip lowers just slightly. 

“You get dicked down for four minutes and you’re already a mess,” she comments, teasing her tip between your lips.

Your eyes shut when she slides it all the way through, tip hitting the back of your throat. Already tears spring to your eyes, hands gripping at Vi’s thighs. Vi holds onto your hair tightly, moving your head up and down on her length–face fucking you. It’s absolutely hot. 

Caitlyn watches it from where she’s settled herself on one of the single-person couches in her room, watching the endeavor with a gleam in her eyes. The sounds of you swallowing her length, choking on it occasionally are the only sounds in the room–and it’s what the two of them want. For you to hear how embarrassingly whorish you are. 

Vi pulls you off her length with a harsh tug on your hair, and you look all the more wrecked. Your eyes are blotchy, lips red, tears trailing down your face, chest heaving air. Vi looks back to Caitlyn, “what do you think?”

Caitlyn hums, “no. not yet.” 

After a quick little kiss session, Vi leaning down to meet your lips for a bit–her length is being pushed right back between your lips, hips continuing their pace all the while Caitlyn’s lip quirks from where she sits.

caitvi x reader masterlist