#i'm trying so very hard not to make dirty jokes here so i'll go

[deunmiu-dessie]

Wait, how do you break character ai's filter? I've been wanting to smash it with a hammer for so long

♡♡𝆬🍠 nonnie, y'know- i'm glad you asked. i first learned from my best friend of...well my whole life-- they sent me a few pictures of words to use, so i'll put that at the end. the words just below are some of the words i use. i'll also leave a few ai characters i'm talking to right now, that i've easily broken the filter with.

my advice? be very vague, let the ai do the dirty work if you're going the submissive route- however if you're more dominant, it's better if you do most of the work.. though i have noticed that on certain characters, the filter seems to be very like...gone? i once had a threesome and like, the filter only popped up once-- i was in shock. i've also noticed that when i do break the filter, it's easier at like 4-6AM, it's rarely ever popped up during that time.

replace common words with more ambiguous words.

pussy -- sensitive place, mound, folds, panties, slick heat, sensitive flesh, etc clit -- bundle of nerves, nub, etc (sometimes i still just use clit.) breasts -- chest, breasts (sometimes you can get away with it, sometimes no) nipple -- areola, peaks, etc (can get rlly percise, so i avoid it most times.) cock -- bulge, hardness, sensitive part, length, thickness. [ i've also used, 'sticky tip' or 'sensitive tip' if giving a blowjob or grinding. and some of the women have used 'princess parts' as well. ]

here are some examples! all mine of course!

let's focus on words i use to describe how my character is feeling. i'll just go through my chats and pick them out and make a small list.

1. "trembling thighs." "quivering thighs." "shaking thighs." 2. "wobbly knees." "knees buckled." 3. "mewling." "cried out." "keened softly." "sobbed." "squealed out." "she whined." 4. "eyes rolled back." "eyes flutter shut." "eyes clench shut." 5. "back arches." "back bows softly." 6. "body quivers." "tremors wrack her body." 7. "toes curl." "fingers grip the sheets." "hands pull his/ her hair." 8. "she comes undone around him." "reaches her climax." "falls over the edge." 9. "body clenches tightly around him." "her walls squeeze tight." 10. "rolls her hips." "grinds her hips." "hips buck involuntarily." "hips jolt." "hips stutter softly."

don't be afraid or thrown when the filter does pop up, it's not the end of the world and it's not like you're gonna be reported or anything. you can rewrite your response ( if it pops up when you send something ) or you can just refresh to get another response. better yet, you don't have to respond to everything they send- just hit enter and they'll continue for you. (the first two are an example, i'm just joking around for this post-- don't type what i just said lol)

also don't just go in willy-nilly, make sure you have a plot; it shouldn't be immediate smut; that's crazy. build the world, give your character a personality, tease a little here and there to wear down the filter (nothing crazy), and slowly add more and more. you have all the time in the world, there are no ads, no time limits, no waiting--- enjoy it.

here are some other words you can use to try and bypass the filter as well! thanks to my bestie for sending me these when i just downloaded character ai.

alright...bai! ૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა ₊˚⊹♡🫧— 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑒

[poetryandfluffycats]

Enstars NSFW Month Day 8 - Rinne Amagi

A/N: wrote this in like 20 minutes enjoy. sorry that its not like full on NSFW I'm actually not sure if this counts for nsfw month but oh well

Pairing: Rinne Amagi x fem!Producer!reader

Content: You're a new producer at ES and Crazy:B is the first unit you are trusted to produce. Rinne knows this, and decides to have a little bit of fun with you.

Warnings: kinda NSFW(?), teasing, spanking, fondling, panty theft, usual rinne behaviour

Words: 787

NSFW oneshot under cut!

Somethin' Wrong, Producer?

Rinne Amagi was a man who loved to tease. His words, his hands, his voice- All of them perfect tools as his disposal. And who else was better to rile up than you, the young, sweet and innocent producer of Crazy:B?

You hated much he made you blush.

He'd pull you into his lap at meetings and rehearsals, whispering the dirtiest possible things in your ear just loud enough for the whole room to hear. His hands would roam all over your legs and thighs, sometimes trying to sneak up your skirt and only stopping if you swatted him away

God he was relentless. To top it all off, he always ended these stupid acts of workplace harassment with a laugh and a wink at the other Crazy:B members. Sometimes they'd scold him, other times they'd simply sigh and go on with whatever it was they were doing. It depended on the day, really.

It was hard to tell whether they were in on the joke or if they just couldn't be bothered with his bullshit. You hoped for the latter. How unprofessional would you look if the very first unit you produced had been making a fool out of you for months? You'd lose your job for sure.

"I wonder what ya'd look like stuffed full of my cock..."

Ah.

You'd been so caught up in your wallows of self pity while waiting for your paperwork to finish photocopying at the printer that you hadn't noticed Rinne sneak up behind you, his arm snaking around your waist, settling on your hips and pulling you close. You yelped in surprise, immediately struggling against his hold. Your struggle was mostly in vain, however, as he was easily able to overpower you by grabbing your wrists and holding them above your head.

And honestly? You didn't really want him to stop.

His hot breath tickled your ear as he laughed, only proving more to you that you looked absolutely pathetic to him. He was well aware of how his teasing made your head spin and he was going to use that to his full advantage.

"Somethin' wrong, producer?" He cooed, dropping your hands and moving his own to the small of your back, his fingers digging into the muscles there. "Yer all tense back here..."

You could have escaped there, could have slapped him and ran away. But god... something about the way he said your title made you weak in the knees. Your heart wanted him to keep talking, to keep whispering dirty things until you came undone just from his voice.

A whine left your throat as he trailed lower and lower, eventually resting on the fat of your ass and kneading the skin like a cat kneads a blanket through your skirt.

"Whatca got on underneath this, huh? Lace maybe?" Another laugh from him, another whine from you as he slipped a hand in between your legs, giving teasing slaps to your cheeks. "Nah, cotton. Just plain old cotton panties for ya. Ya don't like nothin' fancy?"

"You don't have to sound so disappointed! They're... they're comfortable! And easy to clean!" You snapped back, having to swallow a moan in the process as Rinne gave your ass another squeeze, harder than the previous ones.

"Mh, true. Good for when I get ya all wet 'n' dirty, ay?"

Oh god. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. You'd probably cum on the spot if he kept up with that voice of his.

"Maybe I'll take ya shoppin' sometime. I'd like to help pick somethin' out for my-little-slut~" He punctuated the last three words by pulling your panties down bit by bit, letting them rest just above your knees.

You groaned, body betraying you as you leaned back into his touch. "I-I don't need new panties..."

"Ya will"

Suddenly, before you had time to react, Rinne ripped the flimsy fabric of your panties right off your body, shoving them into his pant pocket and slapping your now bare ass hard, leaving a faint red mark.

"I'll give em back in a few days, allrigh'? They smell just like ya, gonna help me have a nice night if ya get what I'm sayin'"

You stood in shock with wide eyes as Rinne finally let go of you fully, giving you one final pat on the ass before strutting away like nothing had happen, turning back only to blow you a kiss and a wink, his signature laugh echoing through the small room.

You felt a warm sensation in your belly, and you quickly realised that you'd been dripping your slick all over the floors.

What on earth were you going to do with him?

[boltwrites]

Rough Handling

Fandom: Marvel; X-Men Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine / Reader (AMAB, masculine) Rating: E Tags: Face-fucking, Blowjobs, Masks

Anon Requested: Reader using Logan’s helmet as blowjob handles 😩

A/N: There is actually a line in here where I could have dropped a perfectly placed, Logan-accurate bub, but didn't out of principle. First person to spot where it goes wins a prize lmao

"You know," you started, gazing down at Logan's discarded cowl as it lay in your lap. "I think Wade had a point."

"About what?" Logan asked, frowning as he tried to scrounge together the rest of his laundry. You'd snatched the cowl up as soon as it had been uncovered in the back of the closet, and you'd pounced on it like some kind of creature. Logan had let you have it, waving you off in favor of actually doing something about the piles of dirty socks around the place.

"These are some pretty hefty blowjob handles," you grinned, sliding your hands over the wing-like portions of the cowl, even twisting your wrist like you were revving up a bike. Logan shot you a deadpan stare, before rolling his eyes and throwing a pair of jeans into the laundry basket.

"Fuck off," he replied, shaking his head as he moved on to the things on your side of the bed. "Not like I designed the thing. Still think Scott had it out for me."

He huffed - it almost sounded like a little growl. You laughed, rolling your eyes at the fact he took this as a jab against his costume, and not the proposition it was.

"I'm not making fun of your outfit, Wolvie," you laughed, shooting him a silly grin as you turned the cowl around, wiggling it as you said his little superhero nickname. "I think we should try it out."

He peeked over the bed, a pair of your underwear in his hand as he shot you a withering glare.

"You're not serious."

"Oh, I'm serious," you insisted, nodding the cowl in your hand. Logan huffed as he turned away, gathering up the last of the laundry and balancing the basket against his hip.

"Well, you look like an idiot," Logan replied. But - importantly - he didn't say no. And he was very upfront with you about shit he didn't want to do, so you were notably intrigued.

"But you would look better with your lips wrapped around me in the cowl..." you teased, an eyebrow raised and a little sly smile on your lips. "I'll even let you fuck me in the suit after."

"Both of those things seem like shit you're into," Logan countered, but you couldn't help noticing how the corner of his lip twitched a little. The little almost-smile. "And there's only half a suit left."

"Oh no, just the mask on while we fuck-" you fanned yourself with the cowl like you were so scandalized. "What a horrible turn off -"

"Shut up." Logan rolled his eyes again, but this time it was with a stupid smirk. "Let me get this load in first. Ah ah-"

You had definitely opened your mouth to comment, but he tilted his head to the side, eyes wide and finger outstretched as he dared you to make a dirty joke. Your lips stayed firmly shut. You were not going to risk face-fucking Logan Howlett over a cheap cum joke. You weren't Wade Wilson.

But you were, however, already half hard at the thought of it. Was the whole thing stupid? Yes, absolutely. But as you undressed so you could make yourself comfortable at the end of the bed, you couldn't help the thrill that rushed through you when you caught a glimpse of the cowl in your periphery. You thought everything about Logan was hot - even the parts that others might thing were scary, or even a little dorky. The claws, the scowls - but also the bright yellow of his suit, the little curly cowlicks in his hair. And, maybe most of all, you liked being a little goofy with Logan. Making him laugh, making him smile. And you knew this was going to be that kind of fuck.

You knew it when he walked in from dealing with the laundry, took one look at you and asked, eyebrow raised. "What, me in just the mask, you in your fucking socks?"

You quelled a snort as you looked down - white nike crew socks still on your feet. You'd gotten so lost in your thought you'd stripped down bare ass naked, dick out, socks still on.

"What, they're not as hot as thigh highs or something?" You laughed back. He grinned in reply as you peeled yourself out of them, sauntering over to inspect the cowl. He shook his head - like he was questioning the life decisions that led him to this moment - before he slid it on.

Oh. Ok. Logan in jeans, a white T-shirt, and the mask? Kind of hot, you weren't gonna lie. Your dick twitched in interest.

"Oh, come on," Logan snorted, unable to contain himself. "Really?"

"Honestly, I think you've given me some kind of complex," you tried to defend yourself. "Remember the time you wore that yellow shirt to the bar-"

"Mhm, vividly," Logan hummed it low, smirking as he looked you up and down. You couldn't help the bob of your adam's apple as you swallowed, the way your dick plumped up between your legs, at full attention now. That's just what this man did to you, really.

Your full attention was on him now, as he sank to his knees in front of you casually, sliding his hands up your thighs so he could spread them. Your gaze lingered on those hot hands, and-

"Oh, don't even think about it."

You snorted, because he'd clocked you fantasizing about his claws dead-on.

"Hey, a man can dream," you chuckled, breathless as Logan repositioned himself between his legs so that now the scruff on his jaw could scrape along the inside of your thighs. So close, but so far.

You were pretty sure Logan rolled his eyes, but you couldn't tell because of the mask - oh man. You reached out, half believing that he'd slap your hands away, before you wrapped them around the curved bits - the blowjob handles. He was - wow. He was really letting you do this.

And he was into it - he just didn't project it like you did. Or, maybe it was more accurate that he was into you. As you were distracted with his cowl, he'd started to press kisses to your thigh, sinking down lower in his stands as his breath ghosted over your dick.

Most of the time when he did this for you, he was in control. He'd hold your hips down and take you into his mouth at his own pace, smirking when you whimpered at how much attention he paid to the tip, or when you whined at how long he licked you up and down instead of just sucking your cock already.

But like this - like this, you could gain some of that control back. Logan nuzzles into the seam between your thigh and dick, licked a long, wet stripe from base to tip - and then you applied just the smallest bit of pressure to the handles on his mask, and Logan made a little shocked noise in the back of his throat, stilling in his tracks as he tilted his head to look at you.

"Oh no. None of that this time," you insisted, grinning as you adjusted your grip on his cowl. "Come on. Let me fuck your face."

Without being able to look at his eyes, Logan's expression was unreadable. This wasn't something you did with him often - and for a split second you wondered if you'd taken this whole joke too far.

That was, until Logan's lips parted. Just barely, at first, before he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out like you'd done so many times before for him. But oh - he rolled his jaw as he opened wide, squared his shoulders. This wasn't just an invitation. It was a challenge.

You removed a hand from the mask, if only to angle your dick to Logan's mouth, bouncing off his tongue with a little hitch of your breath before you rolled your hips, lips wrapping around you as the both of you found your places. It took you another breath to center yourself, to wrap your hands tight around that mask.

The first roll of your hips was experimental, slow and steady as you bit your lip, learned to tilt down Logan's head just a bit as you guided him with the cowl. He made a low noise in his throat - approval? A moan? you didn't know. You did know that he slid his tongue along your shaft like he knew you went crazy for, and you gasped at the feeling of it, his thumbs drawing circles on your inner thighs only serving to distract you further.

You built up a rhythm - hips rocking faster, deeper into his mouth, but never quite hitting the back of his throat. Logan took you with no complaints, head bobbing in time with how you dragged him along your cock by his mask, trying your best to keep your breathing steady, to make all this last.

But, try as you might, there was still something missing. You couldn't fuck his throat deep, not as hard as you wanted to, and his hands on your thighs were distracting enough that you wished you'd invested in some adamantine sex cuffs. You needed more control.

So, you took it. You stilled your hands, your hips, and then you stood. You didn't bother telling Logan what you were about to do - you didn't need to. After all, you were the one guiding him this time. And you did it well - hands on his mask firm enough to help guide him as you stood, letting him shift his weight and steady himself with a hand against your knee. You moaned at the new angle - it was so much easier to thrust into him like this, and you knew that with the advantage of forward momentum, you could fuck his throat raw.

"Oh, yeah-" you breathed out, as Logan swallowed roughly around you - it was clear he understood the implications of the new angle too, bracing himself with a wider stance, knees further apart, hands tracing your hips more as a way to keep himself steady than to quell your thrusts. And when he looked up at you - well, obviously, the mask was in the way. But just the fact that he bothered to try to meet your eyes had you smirking.

"Ready?" you asked him, your voice almost teasing. The low grumble he replied with reverberated all along your dick, and you shivered at the feeling. Oh, he was ready.

So, you gave him what you promised. Tilted his head back just slightly, and with your fingers wound tight around that mask, you speared his mouth on your cock, his throat squeezing around your tip as you cried out, grinding deeper into that heat before you pistoned your hips out. You yanked him forward by that cowl, then back off with your hips - and despite the wet choking noises he made, Logan only urged you to fuck him more - harder, faster. His hands wrapped around your ass, squeezing tight, willing your hips back into the vice of his throat, like you could somehow force your way even deeper.

It had you crying out, nails catching at the feeling of that mask, your pace stuttering the closer you got, thighs shaking as you rammed the back of Logan's throat again and again, just to feel how tight he squeezed your cock. Between thrusts you could see how it affected him, too - how he'd sunk low in his stance, no longer able to kneel upright with how hard you were fucking his face. His shoulders were slumped, one of his hands now cupped against the bulge in his jeans - how hard he was from you ruining his throat.

And that was it - the image of him hard because of this, pliant and desperate and blissed because of how you thrust ragged into his mouth. That's what finally sent you over the edge, burying Logan's nose into curls at your base as you cried out his name, his throat convulsing around you as he struggled to take all you gave him.

Your knees damn near gave out afterwards, shaky as you released your vice grip on Logan's mask, pulling out of his mouth with a groan. You'd left a mess at the corner of his mouth, over his lips - it almost made you twitch to life again, with how good he looked.

Maybe Wade did have good ideas sometimes.

[ladyloveandjustice]

List of "Does it Like Women" Results and whether I agree

I find the "Does it like women" blog fascinating, as y'all have probably noticed. I always tend to think deeply about this topic when I consume media, so I wanted to make a list of results I disagree with, because it interests me! I'll likely be updating this through reblogs if my interest doesn't wane, I'll make a note in the replies when I do!

Loves Women

I agree with all of these so far! Well, loves women might be a little bit of a stretch for the first Spiderverse movie (on the other hand...doc ock...hnnn), but I think the second does so yeah basically agree.

Likes Women

Kill la Kill- Man it's 2013 again and I'm seeing tumblr make powerpoints about how klk is deeply feminist and it's actually a super deep critique of harassment that Ryuko has to wear the ugliest outfit ever and Westerners Don't Understand (person making this argument is inevitably a Westerner).

Yeah, based on the part I've seen and everything I've heard, hard disagree. But I have not seen the whole thing, just those three, I do know the part I saw included rape jokes a plenty, a weird victim-blamey take on "not being ashamed" of being forced into a skimpy outfit and how if you're bothered by men ogling you that's your weakness, and a vagina wedgie. I'm not as mad about it as I was back then,and I can appreciate the show has it's good points later on. Not having watched it also means my knowledge is incomplete. However, I have listened to really in depth breakdowns of the series (mainly Anifem's podcast), so I know exactly what happens, and yeah, the treatment of women doesn't impress me. I'm on the dislike side, (holding back on hates because again, haven't seen all of it)

...could understand mixed feelings though, I guess

Fullmetal Alchemist 2003 anime- nahhhh man, it doesn't like women, treating them significantly worse than the manga it adapted. I have a lot of issues, from how thoroughly it shafted Winry, to how it gave Riza nothing, to Dante being every cliche about a female villain they could fit in here, the treatment of Rose leaving a horrible taste in my mouth (I see arguments of what happened to her being a critique of imperialism, however I have yet to see anyone justify why the show had to continue to have her kidnapped and assaulted and treated as an afterthought after that) and some truly rancid one-off episodes.

I break down my problems with it at the end of the little FMA 2003 liveblog I did, though it's phrased super obnoxiously because I wrote it...oh my god twelve years ago oh god I'm crumbling to dust as we speak. But I break down the basics with the "top gross things" post I did (ignore any thoughts on race I had no place writing bout that tbh). The tag anime: turn your zombie mom into ethanol also goes into more of my thoughts, though again, very obnoxious and the deeper you dig the more ancient and obnoxious it will get lmao.

I have several ancient posts on how it treated Winry in particular, as she was my fave and was done so dirty, and I think they hold up fairly well. Here's a post I made about the Winry-Roy plotline, and a good response by another user. Then we have this post, ignore horrible art.

(Please don't try to spark a debate with any of this stuff, it's years and years old, I went through so much drama and legit panic attacks, and I'm not committed anymore. Love 2003 and think it likes women if you want, that's fine! I'm just trying to illustrate what I mean in saying imo it dislikes women).

The Handmaiden- This poll reminded me to finally get around to watching this movie, and I'm so glad I did! I'd go with "loves women" for this one actually,The nos must either be misclicks or people who don't understand that two women having sex on screen is not the same as the male gaze.

Madoka- I'd definitely go more towards mixed feelings honestly (especially if we're counting Rebellion) but I get the people who say "likes".

Yuri is my Job- it loves women, it loves messy women, it loves women who love women, it loves them so much, idk why it got a sizeable no vote. People who only watched the first ep? People who think yuri is "bad"?

Mob Psycho 100- Someone in the notes says "accidentally likes women" and that's the only answer in the "likes women" area I'll accept. It has 10 million prominent male characters and like three prominent female characters. ONE really really obviously has a hard time imagining women as powerful or action heroes. (this is reflected in One Punch Man too) (One Punch Man actively hates women and queer people though, Mob is infinitely better) Only one who ever gets to fight and play with the boys, and she's a low level mook, and we have to spend 75% percent of her limited screentime on whether it's actually okay to fight women, with her winning argument being "Well you're literally a child so I guess it evens out" (???) The little girl with the evil dolls gets even less screentime.

I do like that the series examines how Mob idealized Takane and how people not caring about the real her made her tired, as well as how it allowed her to reject Mob and was basically a lesson in the importance of accepting rejection. But her screentime is also really limited, and I feel like we could have dove into her a lot more. Tome is a wonderful weird girl and I liked her little arc, and I hear she gets more in the Reigen manga, but still not a TON of screentime, and even with her there are a couple jabs about how she doesn't "count" as a girl due to not acting traditionally feminine we're clearly supposed to find funny. Emi is...there I guess. There's that sweet scene with the writer girl, and the bully girl, but they're like, not reoccurring at all, as evidenced by how I can't remember their names.

And uh. the girls school episode.

Anyway. Hot take but I don't think "they're barely in the story but when they are two of them are treated pretty decently and have some depth, though there is some weird stuff about whether women can even fight men or whatever" really counts as "likes women". I'd go more mixed feelings.

Life is Strange-out of the two options I chose dislikes, but my feelings are a lot closer to "mixed feelings". I go into why here.

Gushing Over Magical Girls- lol. lmao even. The anime about middle school girls who look 8 sexually assaulting other middle school girls DEFINITELY doesn't like women. I go into more detail here.

Cowboy Bebop: Mixed feelings, probably. I chose dislikes because yes, Faye and Ed are great (you could def read Ed as nb though), but Faye also is repeatedly damsel in distress'd and treated as incompetent in her field when I don't think she should be, she can be a failgirl without being the sole woman in the action side of the group and also the least capable (there's also That Scene in the movie). also i just. it's fine that she's sexy but I hate her outfit. give her something nicer looking, it's so ugly. But my main reason for a dislike vote is the treatment of Julia. Girl is a textbook example of fridging. They really gave her so little. But yeah I could see mixed feelings.

Also do you remember that one scene during Faye's tragic backstory where she's hospitalized and the camera requires us to look down her super (painful looking? like idk how she's not screaming about it) squished boobs during this tense and important moment god that took me out. whenever anyone acts like Faye always owns her sexiness and the camera never does anything I remember that scene.

Ranma 1/2: I've seen read a good chunk of it, and this result is...surprising. Maybe by the standards of 80's manga though, who knows.

Better Call Saul- I did vote yes on this one, but I'd put it more at mixed feelings. Kim is a fantastic character, but there aren't enough women on the show at all. She's a major part of the show, but basically the only one of any note. I only voted yes because I finally remembered Francesca was a reoccurring character and she's all right, but the fact I had to think to remember...

Undead Unluck: I know it gets a lot better later but I'm not sure if a work that has it's female character continuously and comically sexually harassed for the first few chapters can ever get liking women privileges. I don't know enough about it but it might be a mixed feelings situation.

Akiba Maid War: tbh I'd probably give this 'loves women'.

Ducktales: For the second season specifically I'd say "loves women". The first season leans more towards 'like women' though, so it evens out.

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend- Should be "loves women" but people are ridic and voted based on the title.

Mixed Feelings

Dracula- IIII definitely think it dislikes women, sorry guys. Mina is a great character and you do have to take it in the context of when it was written. But there are surely contemporaries of Bram Stoker that wouldn't have randomly gone out of their way to scoff at the "New Woman". Not to mention again, really random sidebars about how men are so much smarter and cooler and women should be grateful to them. I could go on about Lucy and how Mina is treated and whether that's a critique of sexism or just playing into it and how it's so open to interpretation but I'll stop here.

also the book is hugely anti- Romani, immigrant etc and I think that ties into disliking women since some women are those Romani and immigrants

It really really felt like a case where a lot of people in the Drac Daily tag just wanted it to be super feminist because they liked it (you can like things without having to make them feminist! it's fine!), and the way they scoffed at feminist scholars who had "surface level readings" of the text (aka they dared to say it was sexist) still leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

The Lego Movie: dislikes women. what are y'all on. Even it's own sequel calls it out for disliking women. Wildstyle is basically the only woman with real characterization and she's the purest concentration of "hypercompetent woman must play second fiddle to Average Male loser who is the one who actually saves the world and also she falls in love with him because of course she does'. Then Wonder Woman got one line (in literally the first theatrical move she got to even be in) and Superman and Batman a lot of screen time.

Does not like

Scott Pilgrim- Don't get this result, I'd put it at likes or mixed feelings? It's literally about how Scott has weird issues with women where he doesn't see them as to full people they are, and it calls him out on that hard. The whole sixth volume is how he made up a damsel in distress scenario for Kim and always took her for granted, how he put all the blame on Envy for the end of their relationship when he played a huge role in that, Knives finally getting over him, moving on, and telling him he needs to grow up a little (highlighting how his grossness towards her was him refusing to accept that he was an adult now, and that he was horrible to her, and yes he does apologize), and accepting that he and Ramona are both messed up people and she's just as flawed as he is, taking down the pedestal he put her on. And having Ramona triumphantly confront her abuser. Scott acknowledges he has a lot in common with Gideon, the supervillain!

Roxy is a sticking point, the whole 'it was a phase thing' and her and Ramona's relationshipbeing unexplored was annoying (fixed in Takes Off) but even she had some moments of pathos and was definitely the (Ramona's) ex the story seemed to sympathize with the most.

I dunno. this seems like a tumblr lacks media literacy thing again. Did you think the narrative agrees with Scott. Did you only watch the movie.

Succession- I'd go more mixed feelings? Dislikes is fine, I think it doesn't have enough women and often privileges male characters over them, but sometimes it's examination of the sexism Shiv faces is really incisive, and she's a complex character. But she should have gotten that abortion.

Watchmen: hates women actually. Pretty much anything written by Alan Moore does.

Persona 4: I think it hates women actually. But dislike is fine too.

Merlin: Everything I've heard about the show puts in in the hates camp rather than dislikes, but i never watched it (I did watch this video on it, and the bootlicking is out of this world if it's accurate) so I can't really comment

Fables: I cannot fathom how this did not get "hates women". Not just the fact it's written by a known misogynist. I will always remind everyone that I was literally there to see Bill Willingham say the female fans protesting the misogynist treatment of Stephanie Brown were annoying and he wishes he could shoot them. I was there. I heard him. This attitude completely shows up in his work. On top of that, his conservative, women hating idealogy all over this comic. Do you not remember all the random abortion soapboxes and how hard Snow White got sidelined????

And when I refreshed my memory, I discovered the reason Snow White had kids when she didn't want to was because a spell made her have sex with the male lead and she didn't even remember that happening. I also forgot that her backstory was the seven dwarfs raped her (but then she murdered them! Girl Power!) This is only the tip of the iceberg, I rediscovered way too many screwed up things he did to his female characters. Plus blatant Zionist propaganda and a ton of racism.

Like Snow White's backstory was some dark and edgy rape revenge and she's an Empowered Woman now, only to have her be raped by the man she will marry (in a mutual rape) but we don't call it that, and now she has kids she doesn't want, she can't get an abortion because It's Evil, time to quit her job she's proud of and move to a farm to have six kids.

iCarly-- It hates women! Dan Schneider. That should be all we need but some people in the comments insisted on separating the art from the artist despite the fact the artist is ALL OVER the art, and said art directly tormented Jeanette McCurdy! There was so much content in the show that was there to specifically torment her-- the fact her character has a food addiction/eating disorder while she had a real life eating disorder and they had to have known this, the fact after hearing she had a crush on an actor then they wrote it into her character to humiliate her, the fact they continually sexualized her while knowing her discomfort with it and with her body-- I have also watched the exhaustive basically minute-by-minute breakdown by QuintonReviews. Some gross shit happens on that show.

Hates Women

Agree with all of these so far!

[trulyyours-rune]

Hiii me again heheheg🤭

I was wondering if you could do bill with a boy best friend who’s innocent and quiet and bill flirts with him and makes dirty jokes

Or

Bill with an innocent beat friend and bill teases him about being a virgin and stuff and bill says he’ll take his virginity and just like smut

Thanksss 😬🤭

Have a good day/night

Hiii 🤭<3 I wasn't sure if I was actually gonna write one tonight since it's 2:39 in the morning, I had quite a few problems, a.k.a this guy tryna send me inappropriate pics and his friend likes me!? Two very strange and weird guys, and I got hooked to a game. Very addicting. BUT ANYWAY- I think I'll do the first one cause if you didn't know, I suck at smut.

Warnings: Dirty talk/jokes, flirting, short, language, mild blood, read what you're comfortable with, readers a virgin for once, Bill and reader are best friends.

Bill Kaulitz x Male Reader

You and Bill have been best friends for years, people say you're like a triplet. You and Bill got quite comfortable with each other, now he's out saying inappropriate jokes and comments in general with no shame.

In general twins have quite some common interests and humor, so Tom and Bill say a lot of dirty jokes whenever they feel like it. Let alone being around you. You and Bill are usually stuck together while Tom goes out clubbing and 'living the dream'.

_________

You and Bill were laying down on the white couch, reading some magazines, looking at clothes, models, etc. His legs were over top of yours, T.V playing in the background, quite some comfortable silence until Bill broke the moment. "Y'know this magazine has some revealing clothes, wonder what you look like in the-" "Bill!" You smacked him in the face with your magazine. "Ow- what!?" He complained, you just rolled your eyes. "Y/n...Y/nnnnn...Y/N!" "What." "I'm hungry." He smiled like a dork, knowing he was being annoying. "Make yourself something to eat." "Ok." Bill opened your legs, you swear your gonna hit him x10 as hard. You forced you legs closed, Bill laughing and getting up from the couch.

He stretched, he could almost touch the ceiling with those boots. You stuffed your face into the magazine, trying to hide your shamefully flustered face. Bill was in the kitchen making God knows what, you quickly got tired of your magazine and chucked it across the couch, making it land and flipped on some random page. You sat up and leaned back, full attention on the T.V.

"Gah- fuck!" You heard from the kitchen. Wondering what was going on, you sat up and made your way to the kitchen. "You good Bill?" Bill was sucking on his finger, mumbling out "Cut my self by accident." "Lemme see." You took his hand, examining the small wound on his finger, wasn't bleeding much. "Can you kiss it better?" "In your dreams." "Always dream about it." "Fucks sake Bill." You sighed, "Stay here, gonna get a band-aid." You let go of his hand and made your way to the bathroom, was just down the hall and take a left.

You opened the bathroom door, and opening a cabinet above the toilet. You examined inside of it until you finally found a band-aid. You walked out and closed the door behind you, making your way to the kitchen again to meet the damsel in distress Bill. "Do I take off my pants now?" He looked at you, you just glared back. "Noted." He looked down. You grabbed his finger and wrapped the band-aid on it. "Now can you kiss it?" "I'll cut your finger off." "Bet." "Bill no." You said sternly, he pouted.

________

I know this was short but now it's 3:21 in the morning and I'm tired, and when I'm tired I get paranoid I didn't do the request right, probably cause I'm half asleep. But goodnight babes and get good sleep unlike me <3

[sexyfoxlady]

Kruoo's Twins🍼

Tetsu Kruoo x Reader

⚠️ Warning ⚠️ sexual suggested talking, mention of swimmers (cum), dirty jokes,baby crying??, kissing?? (sorry if I missed anything 🥸)

Emi🩷 Kruoo's Daughter

Isamu🩵 Kruoo's Son

Tetsurō Kuroo likes to think and say his semen is SO strong if he was able to get you pregnant twice with one load (he he he maybe a 'couple' of loads)

"All I'm saying is my swimmers have to be pretty strong to get your sexy ass pregnant twice" Kruoo likes to state daily, slapping your hand to his forehead from behind him on the living room couch to shut him up

"Stop and don't call my babies 'your swimmers' " rolling your eyes playfully, walking towards your guys laundry room with the basket of your husband's and kids's clothes

"HEY their my babies too, you just did most of work" Tetsu expresses but whispers the last part

Putting down the laundry and walking back over to the back the couch this time slapping a fat kiss to your husband's forehead, bending down further to whisper in his ear

"Damn straight I did most of the work" kissing his ear next

"Damnnn your mommy hearing is way too good" turning his head to kiss your lips, chuckling in the kiss resulting in Kruoo to deepen the kiss, putting his hand on the back of your head to keep you there a little longer

"Ok ok I have to do the laundry now" backing away from the couch to start the laundry finally

"Orrr we could use this time while OUR babies are asleep and try for two more...oh or 3" snapping your neck to watch your husband crackle like a hyena worse then when you guys where in high because he's a father now

"ha ha. Very funny that you even think we're having more"

"WHATTTT you don't want my swimmers in you, YOU?" Tetsu asks flabbergastically

"Ew don't say that like that and no at least for a longggg while"

"Ah so u do want my swimmers just not now" Tetsu flipping your words just slightly

"Ew Tetsu"

Just like clock work you close the washing machine's lid and your little angel Isamu cries from the twins room, turning to your husband with begging eyes for him to get your babies

"Ok mamas I'll get our littler"

5 minutes later Kruoo comes back into the living with Isamu in his right arm and Emi in his left

"Awww there's my babies" giving them each a kiss on their cheeks

"Tetsu can you please put them in their chairs and get their bottles ready, there's already pre-pumped milk in the fridge" standing on your tippy toes to kiss his lips briefly, kissing you back as a way of saying 'yes of course'

You walk into the kitchen a few minutes later to find your husband still preparing the twins bottles "Need some help"

"No just taking a little longer"

Emi and Isamu chairs are facing away from you guys so the twins can hear you just can't see you which causes Isamu to start crying for your attention

"Aw it's okay Isa mama is right here and daddy is almost done with your bottle ok" walking over to your son cooing to him to try to calm him down, lightly pushing his hair out of his face to see his cute little baby face with teary eyes and wet cheeks

"Aw is your daddy's hair making it hard for you to see mommy" addressing your son then turning to your daughter "And you got daddy's bad eyes huh" bopping Emi's little nose

"Hey! I gave them good hair and eyes" he protests before going back to preparing the bottles

"Yeah good hair" you sarcastically said quietly to yourself and your son making his little face brighten up with a smile thinking your so funny with whatever you just said, smiling yourself and smothering his face with kisses and doing the same to your daughter Emi who also can't help but giggle at whatever you said resulting in the kitchen to fill with giggles while they wait for your husband and their father to finish, a few moments later "And done here you go my little milk gremlins" handing his son and his daughter they respective bottles and each a little kiss on the head

"Why do you choose to call your children such absurd names" narrowing your eyes at your husband

"They're not absurd they're cute, isn't that right my little swimmers" cooing to the twins while they ate

"Ew TETSU" punching him on the arm to express your disgust, Kruoo laughs at your poor punch and sour face and whenever Kruoo laughs around the twins they start giggling, your twins finding your husband's laugh humorous

"See they like it"

"They don't even know what you said they're just laughing because you're laughing" rolling your eyes playfully with a chuckle leaving your mouth at the same time not bothering to 'win' this battle

All in all your husband is a goofball as a friend, as a boyfriend, as a husband and now as a father

Baby Maker (lol):

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/11529

(tanks for reading if u did, i don't really care if u liked it or not 💕💕)

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hi!! Can I make a request? A Marilyn/Laurel with a wood nymph reader (vines on her arms and legs and flowers in her hair that changes colors based on her emotions). I was thinking maybe marilyn and reader has gotten very close with their shared love of plants and despite Marilyn being a normie, the reader feels the safest with her than from anyone else at Nevermore and she tells her that which makes Marilyn fall even more for her. And maybe one day a couple of a bullies that has the power of fire tease reader, acting like they're going to set her on fire and the reader being part tree is terrified and screams. Marilyn comes running in all protective, sends the bullies to the principal's office and then comforts reader. I'll leave it up to you if it ends in smut or fluff. Have a great day and thank you! 😊

Yess!!! Here it is!!! I hope you like it, and sorry about the language mistakes

Don't touch my nymph

Pairing: Marilyn Thornhill x Fem, Student, Nymph! Reader

Warnings: Bullying, angst, hurt & comfort, fluff

Word count: 3,305

Summary: She’s the only person there that understand you, that make you to feel safe. It’s useless to try to avoid your feelings…

 N/A: Requests are open!!! Sorry about the delays, I’m working hard on your requests. I love you all!!!

You were in the woods, sitting by a tree. That way you felt safe, at ease. After all, where else could a wood nymph feel better?

Nature was your ideal environment. There you felt safe, in harmony. It's not that you didn't like Nevermore, but being the only nymph in the place made you feel a bit strange. Your classmates were not unpleasant, but they did not understand things. They were surprised to see how your hair changed according to your mood, seeing the vines run through your arms.

You were better off in the woods, at least for most of the time. There was a time when you felt better at school. Botany class. Marilyn Thornhill was normie, outside of that world unknown to most of the people. Still, you felt so much better around her than around werewolves and vampires. Your love for plants was just as intense. Maybe it was because she was the only one who seemed to understand you, even though she was someone who wasn't part of that world.

You told yourself over and over again that you only felt admiration, that your hair changed when you were with her out of nervousness, out of comfort. They were dirty lies. The feelings that surfaced in your heart were not platonic, nor were gratitude for treating you better than many of your peers. It was something else, something that made you feel small in a big world, something you didn't expect to feel when you came to Nevermore. A love so strong it could make flowers grow in a desert. You were doomed to suffer, to keep those feelings forever.

There you were, lamenting as you felt the grass and trees sympathize with you, feeling their fervent support.

“Forget it, it's impossible…” You said into the air, as if you were able to communicate with them. In part you could, but you still didn't have much mastery of those kinds of skills.

“What is impossible, (Y/N)?” A voice startled you. You turned to find that it was none other than Marilyn’s. She was looking at you fondly.

“Oh, Miss Thornhill,” you said blushing, just like your hair.

“Don't worry, I didn't mean to scare you. I hope I'm not interrupting anything,” she told you softly. You shook your head, making a superhuman effort to return your hair to its normal state.

“No, no. I was just... relaxing,” you said murmuring. She nodded smiling, sitting next to you. Now you were completely nervous.

“Me too. The best thing to forget about stress is a good walk in the woods,” she said sighing. She looked at you with that warm smile, with that smile that made your whole body shake uncontrollably.

Your hair was surely giving you away. Fortunately, you never told him what each color meant.

“For me for sure,” you said, in a painful attempt to joke. She laughed and took something out of her bag, handing it to you.

“Look how curious, (Y/N), I found this honeysuckle while walking around there,” she told you, while you were looking at that flower. It was beautiful, and the indicated place coincided suspiciously with the areas through which you had walked.

“At this time of year? It's weird,” you said looking at that flower. Most likely, you were the cause of its premature flowering. When you were happy and relaxed, you made the flowers wake up and look beautiful, full of life.

Marilyn looked at you as if she was looking at the most beautiful flower in the world. You didn't care. You weren't even able to look into her eyes.

“I would like to give it a special place at the conservatory,” she told you while you returned the flower. “It would be great if you could help me. If you want to, of course.”

“Of course. I will be delighted to,” you said completely blushing. It was common to spend afternoons in the conservatory with her. You would give anything for time to stop at those moments.

“Now it’s okay for you?” She asked. You nodded effusively, not realizing how obvious you seemed.

The two of you walked through the woods in silence. You felt the grass under your bare feet, one of your favorite sensations. The redhead looked at you and frowned for a moment.

“I don't think you should go barefoot, (Y/N). You can stick something,” she told you in a maternal tone.

“Oh, nothing's wrong. I'm used to it, and nature is my habitat. Nothing in it can hurt me,” You explained, to which she nodded interested.

The Nevermore academy was already in front of you. Now you did put on your shoes. The asphalt and artificial stone were like daggers to your feet. All the students were outside, enjoying the unusually good weather. Every time you saw one of the groups, you felt something sink into your heart.

It's not that nobody wanted to be your friend. It was just that nobody seemed to understand you. Sometimes you felt that they were ignoring you, that they did not want to know anything about you. You always had that kind of paranoia, and that's why you became somehow antisocial, dedicating all your free time to nature and plants.

Normally your classmates weren't bad, nor did they mess with you, but there were exceptions, there always were. They were a troublesome group, sent to Nevermore after causing serious fire-related incidents. It was no longer about the fear you felt for that particular element. Those guys seemed to have fun when they saw you. You didn't understand why. You never did anything bad to anyone, and you couldn't understand why some people were like that. The world was a horrible place. At least Marilyn existed, and she was with you. She was like a guardian angel, sent by something or someone to take care of you.

Passing near the pyromancers, you couldn't help but get a little closer to the redhead. You had to hold back when your instincts made your hand go to hers. That move didn't go unnoticed by Marilyn, she looked at you strangely.

“Are you okay, honey?” She asked, looking at those same boys, who didn't take their eyes off you. “What’s happening?”

“Nothing, it's just… It doesn't matter,” you said, watching your hair change to the color of the lie.

“If you have any problem you have to tell me. That's why I'm here, (Y/N),” she said, opening the conservatory door. You shook your head and tried to relax. Those boys made you nervous, so nervous that the little branches in your arms would pull back in fear.

“It's okay, I'm fine,” you lied again. Marilyn didn't buy it, and it was obvious, you had no idea of lying.

“Listen to me, (Y/N). I know how do you feel. No one said that adapting to Nevermore was easy. But believe me, you end up getting used to it,” she told you, caressing your cheek.

You widened your eyes and the fear you felt quickly vanished. She had never done anything like this. Her hands never made contact with your skin like that. They only rubbed against each other when you were working on a transplant or healing a sick plant.

That was so new to you that your whole face turned red. It was impossible for the redhead not to notice.

“Anyway, let's get to work,” she said, moving away from you, as if she somehow realized that this gesture it was perhaps too affectionate.

She took the flower out of her bag, and she told you to take an empty pot. The plants in the conservatory noticed your presence, making subtle movements towards you. You still didn't understand what they wanted to tell you, but you could sense it.

“Enough,” you whispered nervously. They were obviously rooting for something. You didn't know why, but you imagined it. Unfortunately, your status as a nymph made nature instantly understand your feelings.

“Did you say something?” Marilyn asked, distracted as she poured soil into the pot.

“Um, no, no. It's just that these plants are very talkative,” you said nervously, almost stuttering.

“Can you understand them?” She asked curiously. You nodded slightly. “It's extraordinary. If I could have done it, college would have been easier for me.”

You laughed shyly.

“Well, I still can't fully understand them. It's more like a feeling, it's not that they speak directly with me,” you explained.

When everything was ready, Marilyn took out the flower again and offered it to you.

“I never get tired of seeing you doing this,” she sighed expectantly.

You grabbed the honeysuckle from her, trying not to be flustered by her tender, loving words. The roots began to sprout while you delicately grasped the stem with your eyes closed. For you doing that was something as simple as walking.

“Perfect. We are going to put this beauty in its new home,” she told you, looking at that flower with bright eyes. When she was distracted, it was the best time to admire her beauty. You would never tire of those eyes, of that smile. You would end up crazy with love for her, if you weren't already.

Your hands coincided again when putting the flower in the pot. Your hair was unruly, changing color every second. You should learn to control that. If the redhead looked in a book what each tone meant, she would surely realize what do you feel, and after that would come the talk you didn't want to have. The talk that would tell you how impossible your love was, that her heart belonged to someone else. That you were a girl, too young, that you were her student and that you could never be anything else.

Once the flower is placed, Marilyn dusted off her hands and went to her desk, pulling out a small thermos.

“I think we've earned some tea, don't you think?” She asked you, taking out two glasses.

Your face lit up and you nodded, finally keeping a little calm.

An hour passed, two hours. Two hours of informal talk. She was amazed at your skills and you explained them to her the best way you could. You didn't talk about the academy, or the studies. It was a slightly more personal conversation.

“My goodness, how late it is,” the redhead said, as if she was surprised by how quickly time had passed. “I think we should go to dinner now or we'll run out of dessert,” she told you, amused.

You were sad to have to leave. You were so excited, so nervous to have started sharing things with her that you couldn't help but say something.

“Ms. Thornhill…” You whispered. She looked at you shaking her head.

“Please, (Y/N), call me Marilyn. I think we have trust, don't you think?” She told you softly, collecting her stuff.

“Ma, Marilyn…” You stammered. “Just…just…thank you.”

“Thank you? I am the one who has to thank you, I have never met anyone who showed the same interest in plants as I do.”

“No, it's not that…” You said, not knowing how to escape from the mess you'd just gotten yourself into. “Well, yes, that's it, it's just that…”

The redhead walked up to you and took your hand, encouraging you to speak. The poor thing didn't know that it made you even more nervous. Her caresses on your hand were soft, you felt that your skin enjoyed her touch, as if you were in one of your recurring dreams.

“Speak, honey, don't be afraid, we are among friends here,” she told you, passing her thumb through your hand. Her look was something different, more tender than usual. She said you were friends. It was a happy and sad statement at the same time. Surely friendship was the only thing you could hope for. You gained courage to continue your sentence.

“With…with you I…I feel safe… You're the only one who understands me… I just…I just want to thank you for being who you are, Miss… Marilyn.”

You already said it. It wasn't a declaration of love, but it was a subtle and discreet release of your feelings.

“Oh, honey… You're very sweet…” She said, sighing. Probably unintentionally, she pulled you a little closer to her and stared at you, as if she was debating something on her mind. Her other hand returned to your face. You couldn't help but close your eyes to enjoy that feeling. “You are also… You are…”

She couldn't finish the sentence. Something inside her head made her stop. You were crazy to hear those words, those words that told you that something had changed thanks to your little confession. You were starting to get your hopes up, but surely the rational side of her made her stop before doing what everyone would consider crazy.

“I…” You said, almost begging her not to stop. She was very close to you, and it seemed like the ideal time to expose your real feelings.

“I think, I think you should go to the dining room, (Y/N). I'll see you in class tomorrow,” she told you coldly, painfully separating from you.

You lowered your head but nodded. The color of sadness was evident on your hair.

You walked out of the building, feeling like you'd just lost the only chance you'd have with her. You couldn't stop thinking about her attitude, about what had happened. You had always been very close, from almost the first day. But this time there was something different, something very different.

You were so immersed in your thoughts that you didn't realize that a group of boys was following you.

“Hey, tree-woman, where are you going in such a hurry?” One of the boys said. You turned around scared. It was them, the school bullies, those guys who seemed to have a certain interest in messing with you.

“To… To have dinner,” you answered trembling. You were too innocent.

The boys stalked you intimidatingly and you started to back away, with such bad luck that you tripped over a stone and fell to the ground, completely helpless.

“Hey guys, what do you say we do a stubble burn?” that horrible boy asked, summoning a flame on the palm of his hand.

“Yes!” The others said.

You were terrified. Fire was the worst of your enemies. You were half tree, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what that meant.

“Please, please, leave me alone,” you begged, protecting your head with your hands. Tears began to run down your cheeks. You were having a panic attack.

“Look how the baby cries. Cry baby, cry baby,” they continued mocking, bringing the flame closer to your body.

“Hey, you guys!” A voice yelled as it ran towards you. It was Marilyn.

“We were just helping her,” one of the boys excused himself. The redhead stormed towards them and grabbed his shirt tightly.

“Don't try to take me for a fool, William,” she hissed, her voice menacing. “This has gone too far, you and your friends are going to go to the principal's office right now.”

“But…”

“I said right now!” She screeched.

The thugs lowered their heads and obeyed giving you a murderous look.

“Oh, my God, (Y/N), are you alright?, have they done something to you?” She said worriedly, bending down. You shook your head, sobbing.

“No... But they were going to... They were going to... To...” You stammered. Without being able to avoid it, you threw yourself into her arms, seeking comfort.

“Shhh, honey I’m here... It’s already over. You have nothing to fear,” she told you softly, while she rubbed your back affectionately. You were crying desperately. You knew that one day their threats would come true. You were so scared that you couldn't even enjoy the redhead's hug.

“I can't take it anymore…” You sobbed, holding onto her tightly.

“Calm down, (Y/N)… You're with me and nothing will happen to you. Come, let's go to my room, I'll make you an infusion to relax.”

You obeyed and followed her around the school. Her room caught your eye, it seemed like an extension of her greenhouse. It was a beautiful place, almost as beautiful as she was.

“Drink it, honey, you'll feel better right away,” she told you, giving you a cup with a hot liquid.

“Th….Thanks,” you said, taking a sip.

“You shouldn't have kept it from me. If those guys do something to you I... I... I mean, Nevermore is here to protect you,” she said, being very careful with her words.

“No, I don't want to attract attention,” you said with a sad voice. Her hand returned to yours.

“That's complicated. You would catch anyone's attention,” she said, trying to joke. You smiled a little, imagining that the compliment wasn't meant to please or cheer you up.

“Do you really think so?” You asked, wiping away a tear. She nodded.

“Of course I do. You are an intelligent girl, with a good heart and… And you are beautiful,” she said, letting herself go.

It had been a difficult day, and your body thought much faster than your head. Without thinking about the consequences, you approached her and kissed her lips briefly. Marilyn didn't move, she just widened her eyes. You noticed how her hand began to shake.

“(Y/N)…” She sighed. She didn't run away, didn't turn away. You wanted the earth to swallow you down.

“I, I'm so sorry,” you said, getting up from the bed. Her hand on your wrist prevented you from moving.

“Wait, wait. Don’t, don't go,” she asked you.

You were embarrassed. You wanted to run away, run away, run away and not look back.

“I don't know what happened to me…” You said, sobbing again.

“(Y/N)… We… We can't…” She said, pulling you.

You didn't expect that answer. You expected a reprimand, a scolding, a rejection. That didn't sound like a rejection. A feeling of bravery washed over you.

“Can't we?” You asked, trying to reassure yourself.

“(Y/N) I… I'm your teacher… It's… It's forbidden,” she said shyly. Her eyes indicated regret, impotence.

“I don't understand. Aren't you going to tell me it's impossible?”

“Sweetie I… I… You… You mean a lot to me. I don't want to get you in trouble.”

“Does that mean you feel something?” You asked, feeling your hopes rise.

“Since I met you…” She admitted. “But no, we can't...”

“Why? No one has to find out,” you said, feeling the greatest joy of your life.

“No, don't make it more difficult for me, please…” She said, while you approached again.

“I love you,” you said, crying again, caressing her face. She looked at you and smiled for a moment, before resting her eyes on your lips.

It was inevitable. The kiss came seconds later, deeper and more sincere.

“It's dangerous,” she said as she kissed you, holding you tenderly by the waist.

“I don't care…” You answered, kissing her desperately.

“I don't want to hurt you, (Y/N)”

“You won’t do it…”

“Fuck… I… I love you…” She said, kissing your neck little by little.

“I love you…” You said panting, feeling a sensation and a new color in your hair, one you had never seen before.

That night was the most special of your life. Marilyn and you, confessing the feelings you had for each other, kissing passionately, making love. You were so happy that you even forgot about the bullying incident. Now you were with her.

“I want us to run away, (Y/N),  far away from Nevermore, far away from Jericho. Just you and me” She said while you rested on her chest.

You had no doubt, you wanted to do it, you wanted to escape with her.

“Just you and me…” You repeated.

[myuni-moon]

Myuni you are my internet crush and I love you

Thank you for being such an *amazing* writer

(⁠´⁠∩⁠｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡⁠∩⁠`⁠)

hi hi! thank you for the compliment hehe

since you're so sweet, i'll give you all a little treat. let me share some of my recent brainrots mwehehehehe

tw: child abandonement mention, yandere content, slight violence

i was thinking about platonic yandere!kaeya who receives a report about theft happening in the market. nothing too bad, just a few fruits or skewers that go missing every few days. still, it's become a cause of concern. as the cavalry captain, he's on the case.

it isn't long until he finds this little brat, hiding away in a small cave by the whispering woods. your clothes are dirty, and you're scratched up to your legs. your hair is messy, and your face is dusted with dirt. you remind him of some kind of animal, especially so when you stare him down like one the moment he comes close and protectively gather the stolen food in your arms as if they were priceless jewels.

even so, kaeya recognizes you as the scared child you truly are. he shows he means no harm, speaking gently and softly as he kneels down to your level. "hey there," his voice bounces off the walls, "what's your name?"

it takes him handing you an apple and letting you munch on it before you allow him to even come near you. kaeya is finally able to sit right next to you. he sighs and asks you a few questions. it's not long until he realizes you're a child abandoned by their parents, left to steal and live a life of misery if you hadn't already perished to

a small twinge of pity and maybe even sadness tugs at his heartstrings because he too knows what it feels like to be abandoned, but even then, his own father was kind enough to leave him in good care -- unlike your parents. he ends up taking you to the knights of favonius after assuring you you wouldn't get in trouble (he also thought it was kind of cute the way you clung onto him and cried for him not to put you behind bars). a bit of discussion later with jean, and you're put into his care since you were already somewhat familiar with him.

it's a chore at first, maybe, but he grows a soft spot for you. who wouldn't when this lovely little thing won't leave him alone? you follow him around and try to help him with paperwork even with the limitations of your vocabulary and skills. you clap and laugh when he shows off the little tricks he can conjure with his vision. somehow, you put a little bit of color into his life again.

after a while, there's nothing he won't do for you. in classic kaeya fashion, he pokes fun and teases you, but he'll get rid of whatever makes you cry. you might not even notice it, but if you bat your eyes and tug on his scarf, you can get away with anything. you can even pull him away from the tavern early. just drop by, and he'll be so concerned as to what you're doing there. he fusses so much that he ends up taking you home and just spending the rest of the day just doing whatever you want to do.

he loves it the most when you call him "brother." he doesn't like to be called dad or anything of the sort ("i'm not that old, am i?" he drunkenly sulked once at the tavern after you accidentally called him dad). he doesn't smile sincerely very often, but he just beams whenever you come running to him, calling him brother after a hard day at work.

during the attack of abyss mages on the city, he gets worried about you the most. before having to defend and serve as a knight, he actually leaves you in the care of dawn winery because he knows that you'll be safe and secure there. he hates to leave you, but he just jokes it off, so you won't have to worry too much.

"don't miss me too much, okay? i'll only be gone for a little while." his words seem way too nostalgic, and the mood of the situtation just feels all too familiar. "be good while I'm away. just stay here, and don't go outside until I come back. If anything happens, the adults can take care of you." you're crying into his uniform, but he knows you'll follow his words. you're a good kid like that.

when he's finally in the fray, he's ruthless. so much more than he usually is. he just wants to come back to you, pinching your cheeks as you tell him you missed him so much. he clicks his tongue when another wave of monsters of the abyss enter the city. he knows what signed up for, and he's happy to defend mondstadt, but this was the reason why he had to be away from you -- why you had to cry.

that to him was enough of a reason not to care. so he doesn't care what he has to do to come home to your smiling face, even if that means raising hell before freezing it over.

[sushiosims]

Billy and Morgan - Chapter Two

'Don't hold back' she jokes, looking at him, her eyes warm and amused 'Its not like you are talking about the love of my life here'

Billy throws his head back and laughs 'Well if he is the love of your life, then I am the one that's sorry, sorry that you are stuck with him'

Continues under the cut ♥☻

Morgan suddenly gets defensive 'I am not stuck with him ok?' she snaps

Billy feels the atmosphere change 'Uh, I'm sorry, I don't know any of you well enough to joke about that, I didn't mean to upset you'

She shakes her head, 'Its fine, don't even worry about it...'she looks at her phone

Jumping up, she walks away, 'Ah crap, Bruce and mum have both been calling me' she showed her phone to him, 'Its on silent, sometimes I just like the quiet, I better go' she starts to walk away, and turns back to smile at him 'Bye Billy'

Billy takes a deep breath, resisting the urge to watch her, he can smell her. A clean citrusy scent. He liked the way his name sounded on her lips. 'Bye Billy...' he hears it echoing in his head, and daydreams about a life where she would give a shit about someone like him

The next day, Billy arrives on time, and is in class before the bell, determined not to give Mrs Flex a reason to punish him again. Sadly he looks around, Morgan is not in this class, and he had not seen her around yet today. He sighs, taking notes down, he really hated maths.

Finally the bell signals lunch time, on his way to the cafeteria, his eye is caught by the trophies cabinet. By one in particular '1980 All Star Dan Mason' he was shocked, his dad wasn't lying, he had had talent...what happened?

'Rumour has it your dad was a bit of a legend in these halls' came a voice from behind him, like, right behind him, he started, then smiled, recognising the citrus smell...

'So he always told me, I never believed it' he says, looking again at his dads name on the cup

He turns to face her 'I don't know what happened. He's more of a Bell end than a Legend now' he said, trying to make light of it 'He barely gets off the sofa, unless I am not there to get a beer from the fridge' he bursts out. Morgan takes a step back, shock on her pretty face

'I'm really sorry Billy, our parents can really mess us up, hey?' she says, and he sees something in her eyes, that tells him she understands. They may be from two very different worlds but he could tell, she was not happy either.

'Tell me, how come, for the last 2 days, every time I see you you are hanging all over my girlfriend Junkrat?' sneers a voice beside them. Unbeknownst to them, as they had shared a moment of understanding, Bruce had made his way over. 'Get away from her, you'll get her dirty'

'Bruce, are you serious right now? Billy's new here, I am just showing him his dad's trophies...and speaking of trophies...I am not one! Stop acting like you own me and grow up!' she exclaims, genuine frustration in her voice

'Yeah, we all know about his dad, scummy drunk, same as Billy boy will end up, living in a junk yard and eating out of bins...' Bruce shoved Billy hard

'Hey, man, watch it' Billy bit back at him, his voice a low warning

'Bruce! Stop this!' Morgan says, shocked at the malice

'Bruce Patman! You know whatever his dad has done in the past has nothing to do with Billy! You of all people should know that! Your own dad is hardly squeaky clean!' Morgan says indignantly, then her face falls as she realises what she has said

Bruce, his anger at Billy abated for now, glares at Morgan over Billy's shoulder 'Leave my dad out of this...babe' he growls, his voice a menacing whisper

'Sorry Bruce...I didn't mean to...I'll just excuse myself' Morgan stutters, before turning and heading to the bathrooms

The bell signals to make their way to the next class, Billy's heart skips when he realises he is in PE with Morgan, but Bruce is also there, and is making it impossible to get near her. He feels like she keeps glancing at him though, but whenever he looks, she is looking away

He watches her dribble the ball, losing control of it and just laughing, having fun, while Bruce berates her technique and tells her she is doing it wrong, Billy feels his temper flare, and tries to simmer down.

Without thinking he shouts out 'Hey Fyre...get that in the hoop, and I will take you out for a date this weekend' the atmosphere in the hall turns charged, as everyone knows how Bruce will react to this

Bruce explodes in a flurry of expletives, 'Who the fuck do you think you are mate?' he says, 'You have the audacity to hit on my girlfriend right in front of me? I know you are new around here, but do not fuck with me or what is mine ok? You do not want to play with me'

Morgan looks at Billy, shocked that he said that in front of Bruce, in front of everyone, and she wonders how it would be to be that care free, to just say what you want, and not care what people thought...how freeing.

'Deal' she said, looking right at him, throwing caution to the wind

Everyone watches as Morgan takes the shot...for a second they thought it was going in, but it bounces off the rim, and falls heavily to the ground. There is a silence, and an awkward tension in the room, saved by the teacher coming in and starting to assemble them into teams

Billy gets paired with Wolfgang, and despite thinking he was a bit of a dick yesterday, he surprises himself by getting on with him. They sit on the bleachers and watch as Morgan and Bruce shoot hoops, an obvious tension brewing between them

'I just don't get it, what does she see in him?' Billy asks, as Bruce tersely corrects Morgan's technique 'He's such an arrogant prick' Wolfgang nods, 'It's all about status here, her parents and his parents run this town ,so they have been pushed together since they were kids'

'Her mum, Moira, she's a politician, bit of a do-gooder, keeping up appearances, and expects Morgan to be perfect. Morgan was basically raised by the maid. Her dad is a famous music producer, he worked away most of the time, they have serious money and sway around here. And Bruce, what can I say? His dad Hank owns half the properties in town, made his money by being ruthless and screwing over people with less money. Bruce never gets told no, and anytime he goes too far, daddy just throws money at it, the guys a walking red flag'

'Shit' Billy says, looking at Morgan, and remembering the sadness he had seen in her eyes. 'Fucked up comes in all different forms' Wolfgang nods in agreement, and then laughs as the moment was interrupted by Billy's stomach rumbling loudly

'Come round to mine, my mum loves feeding people, and always makes too much, when was the last time you had a proper cooked dinner?' Billy feels himself bristle again Wolfgang corrects himself 'Sorry, I just mean, I know your dad is well...I...look you want to come for dinner?'

Billy shrugs, and smiles at Wolfgang, and his obvious awkwardness 'Yeah...that would be good. Thanks man' and with that, Billy had made his first friend in Windenburg

On their way back to Wolfgang's house, they pass a huge mansion, Billy whistles under his breath

'That's your girls house' Wolfgang says

Billy's mouth gapes open in awe 'Morgan lives here?'

Wolfgang nods 'Told you she was loaded'

Billy thinks of his basement room, and shudders

Meanwhile back at the school, Morgan has just finished cheerleading practice, and is about to leave, when Bruce is behind her

'Never disrespect me like that in front of people again, hear me?' he hisses in her ear 'And never, ever talk about my family'

'Bruce get off me, now!' Morgan shouts, 'You're hurting me'

'Did you hear me?' Bruce repeats, seething

'Yes, I heard you, I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me, now get off!'

Bruce backs off and looks at her, anger still in his black eyes. 'Stay away from the junkrat'

Billy gets home after 8 again, and sneaks in the front door, dreading the wrath of his dad, thankfully, he has drank himself into a stupor again, and is snoring. Billy shakes his head, looking at him lying there...he wonders if he has even left the house today.

For Chapter 3 clicky click right....HERE

[radsbackup]

1, 4, 11 and 13 for the fandom asks. Any fandom, whichever fits best ^_^

1. the character everyone gets wrong

AYLA CHRONO TRIGGER. I KNOW PEOPLE ARE GREAT WITH HER IN MY LITTLE NICHE BUT THE AMOUNT OF TIMES I'VE SEEN HER REDUCED TO 'HOT AND DUMB' IS ANNOYING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

she's the leader of her people, talking to AND effectively communicating with people from the future about concepts she's never encountered before now AND SHE'S DOING THIS ALL IN A SECOND LANGUAGE. she is very strong and capable and has many moments throughout the game where she says some pretty profound and inspiring stuff, but because she speaks a little differently and has a sexed up design, she's just for looking at apparently 🙄🙄 God forbid a woman be hot AND clever

(^that goes for all hot and clever ladies in media for me, I just feel particularly butt hurt about ayla)

4. what was the last straw that made you finally block that annoying person?

Uhh... I block pretty liberally and just try to avoid drama in public if I can, but usually I unfollow if my dash was getting clogged with shit. The only example that comes to mind isn't a fandom one but I blocked someone once because they were being way too American for me (I know I joke around in varying degrees about Americans, but this was like. Too much about gun bullshit and displaying closed mindsets to other cultures.. No thank youuuuu)

11. number of fandom-related words you've filtered

Dunno cause I lost my main 😭

I know I filtered dead poets society cause I really don't give a shit about that film, ever since we had to watch it in class lol

I probably had most Marvel stuff filtered too I think, but otherwise I think it was just flashing gifs and insects and stuff that I don't really want to see in general

13. worst blorboficiation

Uhhhh... This is hard to think of. I generally try to avoid fandom takes I don't vibe with and my brain is slow today so ummmmmm

I'm just gonna say the way Capcom have treated their main resi characters LMAO. Especially the Redfield siblings... Like dude they're the best how do you fuck them up!? Chris isn't stupid by any means but throughout the series he just gets worse and worse and makes weird decisions that don't even feel plausible from a character flaw standpoint. He was done fucking dirty in re6 and then re7/8 was just. What the hell. 7 didn't look right but whatever, 8 he looked SOOOO FINE but acted BADLY. (I LOVE re8 but I.... Kinda hate most the story decisions LMAO)

AND CLAIRE!!!????? I LOVE CLAIRE SO MUCH AND THEY DID WEIRD STUFF TO HER :''''(

she's a capable, if a little hot headed, badass that is VERY FUCKING CLEVER. I really enjoyed seeing her in re2r and and cv, but then in rev2 that was straight up not Claire? Like, you can't tell me that she suddenly lost her ability to talk to children like humans when she helped Sherry in re2. She felt flanderised in the worst sense and the game left me feeling very frustrated at a lot of character points. AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON THE FILM/TV PERIPHERALS. I'LL TRY TO KEEP IT SHORT BUT BASICALLY. INTO DARKNESS WAS A CRIME AGAINST CLAIRE CAUSE SHE NOT ONLY HAD THE MORE INTERESTING PLOT POINTS TO FOLLOW, BUT WAS DEPICTED SO POORLY AND EVEN MADE INTO A WEIRD DAMSEL IN DISTRESS FOR LEON... SHE WAS SHAFTED SO HARD JUST FOR LEON TO TAKE CENTRE STAGE (BUT EVEN THAT FUCKED LEON OVER A LOT TOO TBH) and I'll refrain from the other times she's appeared in movies cause it's been a while since I watched any and I don't wanna go on too long into incoherency haha

Send questions from here

[mysmestranscripts]

00:18 Strange alarm (Participant)

Seven Route, Day 5

[Background: Early morning]

[Music: Mysterious Clues]

Yoosung: MC!

Yoosung: [Glow box] Didn’t you hear a strange alarm?

Choice 1: No I haven’t.

Yoosung: Hmm…

Yoosung: I guess it was just my phone…

Choice 2: Heya Yoosung… I did see some weird messages!

Yoosung: Hello…!

Yoosung: Weird messages?

Yoosung: I didn’t see any…

Yoosung: I was just playing LOLOL

Yoosung: but my phone rang so l came in,

Yoosung:

Yoosung: [Droopy box] but nothing seems to be out of the ordinary.

Choice 1: I’ll leave him a word for you ^^ [Seven]

Yoosung: Please do!

Yoosung: I was so surprised that I left without completing the quest.

Yoosung: My guild members are gonna hate me for disappearing like that…

Yoosung: Please tell him that I need him to check my messenger!

Choice 2: It must be a bug… Seven’s not as good as he says he is. [Seven]

Yoosung: Ugh.

Yoosung: Seven.

Yoosung: And he calls himself Seven Zero Seven the Great…

Yoosung: I should ask him to check out my app then.

Yoosung: I’m practically allergic to server maintenance,

Yoosung: But I do know that it’s the only way to prevent problems

Yoosung: Then,

Yoosung: Imma go back

Yoosung: to LOLOL.

Choice 1: Yoosung, turn off that computer and go to bed.

Yoosung:

Yoosung: OMG!!!

Yoosung: I thought you were my mom for a sec…

Yoosung: Don’t do that to me, haha.

Yoosung: My mom’s gonna go ballistic if she finds out I game like this. lololol

Yoosung: See you!!

Choice 2: You’re very quick. lol [Yoosung]

Yoosung: I’m only being professional.

Yoosung: [Big box with stars] If you’ve begun a question, you have to see it to the end.

Yoosung: You have to be responsible about things like that. lol

Yoosung: Anyways, I’ll be off!

Yoosung: [Cloud box with stars] Good night!!

Yoosung: Laterz

[Yoosung has left the chatroom.]

Story Mode: Seven

[Background: Seven's bunker]

[Music: Mysterious Clues]

???: Hello. How can you sleep right now?

???: Don't make me say wake up again. Where did I put my taser… Oh, here it is!

Seven: Huh? Aarrgh!! Ms. Vanderwood!

Seven: Madam! Please put that taser away! That's for torture.

Vanderwood: Don't scream… You're hurting my ears.

Vanderwood: And quit calling me madam.

Seven: Then Sir Vanderwood!

Vanderwood: …Stop joking around.

Seven: No.

Vanderwood: Do you want me to hit you?

Seven: No!

Vanderwood: Did you finish work?

Seven: No!

Vanderwood: Are you doing that on purpose?

Seven: No. But when did you come in? The gate question changes at midnight… You managed to come in!?

Vanderwood: I carry around an Arabic dictionary because of you… And don't change the subject.

Seven: No.

Vanderwood: Oh, I guess you're not afraid of my taser gun then.

Seven: Alright alright. You're the boss and I'm the servant, right?

Vanderwood: Just answer my question. Why haven't you finished work?

Seven: Because I didn't work.

Vanderwood: …

Vanderwood: My arm is having a very hard time trying not to take out the taser gun.

Seven: Oh my god! I can't believe I didn't finish work! Oh no! What should I do??

Vanderwood: Is it because you got paid with potato chips last time? Your performances have been really bad after that.

Vanderwood: The boss told me that you haven't been doing very well lately.

Seven: I said I don't care since I like those chips. So the Honey Buddha Chips have nothing to do with my recent performances.

Seven: But… I do have a prediction report saying that I'll do really well if I get compensated with cars. Do you want to see it?

Vanderwood: Cars? If you get anything from an intelligence agency, you're just going to be traced. I wouldn't take it for the world.

Seven: Oh, right. Cancel that.

Vanderwood: Why don't you ask them to give you a maid instead? Why is your house like this all the time? Empty soda cans, potato chip bags...

Vanderwood: And why did you shred up all that paper? Do you have ADHD or something...? I can't believe you manage to get work done here.

Seven: I was just about to say. My house is so dirty that I'm always distracted… The boss will understand once we give him a picture of my house.

Vanderwood: Yeah yeah, what a great excuse. He'll totally understand… Ugh! Your sofa smells like soda.

Seven: It's the lovely scent of Ph.D. Pepper. I get really focused once I drink it, but once I'm finished, it just makes my house more dirty.

Seven: Since my house is like this, I can't help but imagine decoding all the dust particles that fly around here… Huh...!? Decoding it in my imagination is making me hallucinate all the palm oil particles from the Honey Buddha Chips multiplying exponentially!

Seven: I want to eat them…! Oh god… I see corn starch and honey particles floating around over there…!

Vanderwood: What the hell are you talking about, you weirdo...? Alright, I'll clean up the house so just get back to work! You idiot.

Seven: An idiot...? Aren't you being too harsh to a genius secret agent right now?

Vanderwood: I barely stopped myself from calling you a cockroach. Since your house is always like this, I don't know if I come here to keep an eye on you or be your maid.

Seven: Alright, Vanderwood the 3rd… Sorry I treat you like a maid all the time. But will you first sweep the floor?

Vanderwood: Are you kidding me?

Seven: No. If you're not going to clean, then I need to play a round of LOLOL. I'm serious.

Vanderwood: What? God, seriously…

[Background: Seven Album 3]

Seven: Huh? What? But why did my screen freeze...?

[Music stops]

Vanderwood: How can you play games right now!?

Seven: Vanderwood... Come see this.

[Music: Dark Secret]

Vanderwood: …Hey, I think you got hacked.

Seven: Me...? Hacked? This is… this is the RFA Messenger server…

Vanderwood: Turn on the log. Hurry!

[seitmai]

Wow, more thoughts on the greatest field trip of all time under the cut

"Well done," Maverick muttered, and Bradley felt his cheeks grow a little warm.

Wow getting Maverick's approval, mister womanizer himself? That says something

He'd work on getting you a permanent pass so you could stop by whenever you wanted. God, he was a mess every time he thought about the future.

He has the paperwork already on his desk

When Violet's hand shot up into the air, Bradley pointed to her with a smile. "Lieutenant Bradshaw, how many different kinds of jets are we going to see today? And do they all fly at the same speed? And can you help me solve a math problem that I thought of on the bus?" "Well," Cyclone said, looking pleasantly surprised. "These children sound like aviation experts." Bradley noticed how your smile grew as he said, "That's because their teacher is incredible."

Even pulling Cyclone under their spell?! Those kids (and their teacher obviously) truly work their magic 😌

"Phoenix," Jayden read, pointing to the name emblazoned on the side. "That's a cool call sign."

Jayden gets it 😌

Bradley watched her wave to you, and he'd have to remember to make a comment later about how his best friend finally saw you with pants on.

Not the pants haha

"It's a woman," Violet said in complete awe. "She's a pilot." "The best of the best," Nat replied. "You can all call me Lieutenant Trace or Phoenix. Oh! Here's my backseater, Lieutenant Floyd." When Bob strolled around the workstation and waved to the kids with a smile, he said, "I'm Lieutenant Floyd, but my call sign is Bob." "He has glasses!" gasped Henry. "Like me!"

I LOVED this part so so much!! I've worked with kids and other groups of people and representation matters!! It's so impactful and truly can change lives 🫶🏻

You were standing a little bit off to the side, trying to hold Bradley's hand without anyone noticing, but you were pretty sure Captain Mitchell was onto you.

Mav is looking to the other direction in purpose lol

"I can't thank you enough," you told him, shaking his dirty hand after he tried to wipe it on his jumpsuit. "My kids were just as excited to meet you today as they were to see all the jets. You're a bit of a celebrity in my classroom." The older man blushed and smiled down at the tarp at his feet. "Well, ma'am, that's just the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."

"Absolutely, Gorgeous. And you better sit by me." He handed you a tray and pointed you toward the end of the line of officers getting their meals. "It's almost like a date, Lieutenant Bradshaw." He smirked as he handed trays out to your kids. "They do have some Thai options on the menu. I will warn you and say the pasta is terrible compared to Salvatore's."

Those two really are something 🥰🥹

Bradley was actually taking real notes which made you want to push him down onto the table and climb on top. 

Valid

His nostrils flared, taking in your sweet scent over the jet fuel. "You sleeping over tonight?" "I don't see how I could possibly stay away after you gave us the perfect day." He swallowed hard, once again wishing you just lived there with him. Then he wouldn't have to ask or invite or assume. He would just know you'd be with him after work. "Then I'll make sure my shirt is ready for you."

🥰🥰🥰

Mav was quiet for a beat before he said, "That's true. But there's something else." He glanced at Bradley over his sunglasses with a very serious look on his face. "You remind me of your dad today." "I do?" "Yeah. Absolutely," he promised. "And I think it's because the love of your life back there reminds me a bit of your mom."

This made me eat to ball my eyes out in a happy way 😭🥰🥹

You gasped, heart beating a little faster. "Is that safe?" you asked, looking from Bradley to Natasha. "Well, it's just Coyote and Hangman, so if anything happens, it's not such a big deal," Natasha said, earning a bland look from Bradley while she laughed at her own joke.

Hahahahahha iconic 😂

She read, "Hangman, bank down to five o'clock low," and sure enough, one of the jets changed position on the screen. The children were taking this entire mission very seriously, and you were almost shaking with excitement from everything that happened. This was literally the best field trip in the history of field trips. 

This sounds all so great, I wanna go on a field trip like that!! I'm honestly really jealous of these fourth graders 😅

Jayden was the last one to go, and after he shouted out the commands, he said, "Hangman is kind of a dumb call sign, isn't it?"

Hahahah those kids are savages 😂

You let your knuckles bump against his. "Please do, Lieutenant Bradshaw. And on the way there, please tell us how we're your favorite field trip group of all time." "I can do that with an abundance of detail."

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 16 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Your expectations are absolutely shattered when you get to North Island with your class and find out you're going on the field trip of your dreams. Bradley pulled all the stops, and if he wasn't already, he was about to become an absolute legend in your classroom.

Warnings: Fluff, adult banter, Bradley in love, 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

You took Bradley's breath away every time he saw you. Even when he was standing tall between Maverick and Cyclone, it made no difference. He was reduced to a lovesick wreck when you walked down the stairs of the school bus with your students in tow.

"Well done," Maverick muttered, and Bradley felt his cheeks grow a little warm. You looked incredible in a pair of jeans and a plain top, but the look was really completed by the lanyard around your neck with the visitor's pass with your name on it. He'd work on getting you a permanent pass so you could stop by whenever you wanted. God, he was a mess every time he thought about the future.

When you smiled directly at him, he knew he'd take the reprimand if it came; you wanted him to kiss you right now, so he was going to. "Welcome to North Island," he told your kids with a grin. Then he looped one arm around your waist, pulled you close, and kissed you in front of everyone. "I can't wait to show you everything."

You made a soft sound when he released you, and your eyes darted from Maverick on his right to Cyclone on his left. "Thank you for having us today," you said a little breathlessly, biting your lip. You were flustered. He made you that way, and he loved hearing it in your voice.

"Fourth graders," Bradley called out. "This is Captain Mitchell and Admiral Simpson. They both outrank me. By a lot. Let's all give Admiral Simpson our attention."

"Welcome," bellowed Cyclone in his stern voice, and Bradley watched the kids fall in line silently. "This is an active military base. It is important that you remember that fact while you're visiting today." Half of them looked scared while the other half looked excited beyond belief as he said, "The last thing we want is an injury, or worse. Stay with your group. Stay near your teacher. Never go off alone." A very stiff smile appeared on his face as he said, "But have fun."

Bradley cleared his throat. "Thank you, Admiral Simpson," he told the other man, saluting him. Then he addressed you and your class again. "Does anyone have any questions before we get started?"

When Violet's hand shot up into the air, Bradley pointed to her with a smile. "Lieutenant Bradshaw, how many different kinds of jets are we going to see today? And do they all fly at the same speed? And can you help me solve a math problem that I thought of on the bus?"

"Well," Cyclone said, looking pleasantly surprised. "These children sound like aviation experts."

Bradley noticed how your smile grew as he said, "That's because their teacher is incredible." He kept his hands at his side instead of flinging his arm around your shoulders like he wanted to as he nodded toward the hangar. "To answer Violet's question, we will see three different kinds of aircrafts and get to sit in one of them."

"No way!" Oliver said in excitement. "Do we get to sit in your jet?"

Bradley winked and said, "You'll just have to wait and see."

He and Maverick led the group into the busy hangar, the kids trailing along single file as the chaperones brought up the rear. He positioned you in the middle of the group, because nothing was more important today than keeping everyone safe. He pointed out the EA-18 Growler and the E-2 Hawkeye before some Super Hornets came into view.

"Who wants to see Marty work some of his mechanical magic?" Bradley asked as soon as he saw the tarp on the ground where there were engine parts lined up like a surgical procedure was about to take place. Every child's hand shot up into the air, and he chuckled as you and the three chaperones all enthusiastically raised yours as well. "I have some good news. We get to watch while he rebuilds the engine mount and part of the intake manifold on my colleague's jet."

"Phoenix," Jayden read, pointing to the name emblazoned on the side. "That's a cool call sign."

"It's an even cooler pilot," said Natasha as she peeked around the workstation in her flight suit. "You must be the pen pals," she said with a smile. Bradley watched her wave to you, and he'd have to remember to make a comment later about how his best friend finally saw you with pants on.

"It's a woman," Violet said in complete awe. "She's a pilot."

"The best of the best," Nat replied. "You can all call me Lieutenant Trace or Phoenix. Oh! Here's my backseater, Lieutenant Floyd."

When Bob strolled around the workstation and waved to the kids with a smile, he said, "I'm Lieutenant Floyd, but my call sign is Bob."

"He has glasses!" gasped Henry. "Like me!"

Bob gave him a fist bump on his way to the rec room. "I sure do. You can fly with glasses."

"Wow."

Bradley watched all of the kids staring at him, Nat and Bob like they were the absolute coolest adults to ever exist, and maybe they weren't wrong. But they had to know they were in the presence of someone just as fascinating on a daily basis. "You all have your teacher to thank for sparking such an avid interest in aviation in your minds. She probably knows just as much as we do."

Your eyes went wide. "I'm sure I don't," you muttered glaring at him playfully. "Is that Marty? I recognize him from your deployment videos."

When you nodded past Bradley, he turned to see his favorite mechanic stroll back into the hangar with a cup of coffee in his hand. "Hey! It's the fourth graders!" he greeted. "And their teacher who I heard so much about when I was deployed with Lieutenant Bradshaw."

"Did he now?" you asked softly as Bradley gestured for everyone to move in a little closer to Marty's tarp. The mechanic was showing the kids where they could sit on the floor while he grabbed some folding chairs for the chaperones, but Bradley discreetly wrapped his fingers around your hand to keep you next to him.

"Come on, Gorgeous," he whispered, keeping his eyes on Marty as he leaned a little closer to you. "I was smitten with you right away, and I was very lonely. That man heard more than his fair share about my crush on the fourth grade teacher from Mira Mesa Elementary School, that's for certain."

You let your fingers tangle with his as you said, "You're too charming for your own good."

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

Other than Marty talking his way through the repair he was working on, you could have heard a pin drop. Your students were sitting with rapt attention, and so were the chaperones. You were standing a little bit off to the side, trying to hold Bradley's hand without anyone noticing, but you were pretty sure Captain Mitchell was onto you.

"Who wants to feel how heavy the crankshaft is?" Marty asked before he started passing it around to your excited students.

"Mine's heavier," Bradley whispered next to your ear, and you tried to fight the smile that threatened your lips. "But you already know that."

You elbowed him in the side as you watched everyone around you having the time of their life. Marty let everyone try their hand at tightening a bolt to Naval standards, then he laughed and pulled out a hydraulic machine to take care of it. Once the engine components were all in place, he let your kids try to pick it up before he informed them that everything put together weighed over five hundred pounds. He lifted the engine using a huge hook while everyone cheered like he was performing a magic trick, and then he posed for a photo with everyone.

"I can't thank you enough," you told him, shaking his dirty hand after he tried to wipe it on his jumpsuit. "My kids were just as excited to meet you today as they were to see all the jets. You're a bit of a celebrity in my classroom."

The older man blushed and smiled down at the tarp at his feet. "Well, ma'am, that's just the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."

You hadn't even mentioned it to Bradley let, but as you released Marty's hand,  you asked, "Is there any chance you would consider visiting my school for career day to give a five to ten minute presentation?"

"Oh," he grunted, his blush deepening. "The stuff I do isn't as interesting as the aviators."

"It is," you insisted. "My kids were hanging on your every word. I could pass the information to you through Lieutenant Bradshaw?"

He kind of shrugged and grinned at you. "I'll think about it."

When you nodded and turned away from him, you found that Bradley had lined your class up again, and then he started leading them to the cafeteria for lunch. "I need you to help me make a definitive ranking of all the menu options," he told them. "This is some very scientific stuff."

"Is there meatloaf?" Nia asked. 

"Every day," Bradley promised. 

"What about the cabbage rolls that you said were yucky?" said Oliver as he bounced along. 

"Only on the aircraft carriers," Bradley informed him. "You all lucked out on that one."

He had each of you scan into the cafeteria with your visitor's badge, and then he nodded toward a long table with RESERVED signs on it. "Is that where we're all sitting?" you asked in surprise.

"Absolutely, Gorgeous. And you better sit by me."

He handed you a tray and pointed you toward the end of the line of officers getting their meals. "It's almost like a date, Lieutenant Bradshaw."

He smirked as he handed trays out to your kids. "They do have some Thai options on the menu. I will warn you and say the pasta is terrible compared to Salvatore's."

You were smiling nonstop as you selected a few different options, including some Thai curry, and made your way to the long table which was now lined with juice boxes and water bottles. Somehow Bradley thought of everything, and if he thought the last blowjob you gave him was a nice thank you, he was definitely in for another one. 

When he slipped into the seat next to yours, he asked, "Do you think everyone is having a good time?"

"This is better than anything I could have imagined," you promised.

Soon your kids were all poking at and sampling the foods on their trays, calling out opinion after opinion as Bradley pulled a small notepad and pencil from his pocket. "Okay, okay. We all hate the baked ziti?" he asked, giving you side eye. "I told you the pasta was terrible." He made a note and said, "But we all like the meatloaf and the breaded chicken?"

"Yes!" shouted Jayden.

"The chicken is so good!" called Violet.

"So is the macaroni and cheese," said Oliver.

Bradley was actually taking real notes which made you want to push him down onto the table and climb on top. 

"It's like you're really in the Navy now. You have opinions on the cafeteria food," he said with a salute. "Ready to earn your wings?"

Eighteen pairs of eyes went wide. "We get wings?" Henry asked Bradley, lunch completely forgotten.

"Only if you're brave enough to sit in the cockpit of my Super Hornet."

The table erupted in cheers.

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

"It's huge," you gasped. "It's so much bigger than I could have ever imagined."

Bradley led everyone outside to the tarmac near the hangar where his F/A-18 was parked with the ladder down. Natasha was sitting in the cockpit with Bradley's helmet in her hand, waving down at everyone.

"Why don't you go first and show everyone how it's done," he said, and you looked up at his smiling face.

"Alright," you agreed, still clearly surprised by the sheer size of the jet.

There was something about seeing a military aircraft in person for the first time that nothing could prepare you for. Some of the kids were looking at it with their mouths hanging open, and Violet looked like she was on the verge of happy tears.

With one hand in the middle of your back, Bradley helped you start to climb the ladder. The fantastic view of your ass was a perk, but he really was trying to make sure you got up safely. When you were standing on the last rung, Nat helped you climb inside, and she plopped his helmet on your head. It was comically large, and you were laughing as you waved down at everyone from the seat.

"This is incredible!" you shouted.

"You just earned yourself some wings," Bradley promised, and you pumped your fist in the air while the kids all cheered. He took his phone out to get a picture of you and Nat up there with his name on the side of the jet, and then it was time for you to climb back down. You probably didn't need the extra help, but his hands ended up on your hips anyway, and you looked back at him over your shoulder once you were on the ground.

"Thank you," came your breathless voice, and he had to remind himself that he was at work and not allowed to push you against the ladder and make out with you like he wanted to.

"Who's next?" he asked, prying his hands away from your body. The chaperones sent Jackie up to the ladder first, and Bradley held her hand until she was securely on the ladder. "Be careful on the rungs. Phoenix still slips on them all the time."

"I do not!" Nat called down from the cockpit. "I never slip on them, ever. But Rooster always does."

"You got me there, Phoenix," he said with a laugh as Jackie scaled her way up to the top. 

Each kid got a turn. Oliver told him that his jet was probably fast enough to feel like you were slam dunking off the back of a dragon after all. And Violet looked at him as she climbed down and said, "I'm really sorry Lieutenant Bradshaw, but Phoenix might be even cooler than you."

He laughed as he said, "You're breaking my heart, kiddo," and she nodded somberly. "That's okay. I'd probably agree with you most days. Go line up with everyone else so you can get your wings."

Maverick and Nat helped you and Bradley pin some replica golden wings on each lanyard, and then Bradley pinned one on yours as you grinned. "What if I want to wear the real thing?" you whispered as the kids all gushed over their little treats.

Bradley glanced down at the insignia pins on his khaki uniform. "You want to wear my shirt around, Gorgeous?"

"Maybe," you told him softly, and he could already picture it.

His nostrils flared, taking in your sweet scent over the jet fuel. "You sleeping over tonight?"

"I don't see how I could possibly stay away after you gave us the perfect day."

He swallowed hard, once again wishing you just lived there with him. Then he wouldn't have to ask or invite or assume. He would just know you'd be with him after work. "Then I'll make sure my shirt is ready for you."

"Rooster."

Bradley released your lanyard and turned toward Maverick. "Sir?" he asked as Mav nodded toward the air traffic control tower.

"They're ready for us."

"Excellent," he replied as Nat folded up the ladder next to him. "We have one more thing for you to learn about. Naval aviation wouldn't be possible without skilled air traffic controllers making sure we have safe flight paths. If you promise to be quiet, we can all climb the tower stairs and listen in."

The kids were bouncing around excitedly again as Bradley and Maverick led the troops across the tarmac with you and Nat bringing up the rear this time. "You look like you're having as much fun as they are," Mav remarked.

"I think I might be," Bradley replied with a chuckle. "Their love of aviation is pretty infectious."

Mav was quiet for a beat before he said, "That's true. But there's something else." He glanced at Bradley over his sunglasses with a very serious look on his face. "You remind me of your dad today."

"I do?"

"Yeah. Absolutely," he promised. "And I think it's because the love of your life back there reminds me a bit of your mom."

Bradley stumbled, his boot skidding along the ground, but he managed to stay upright as Maverick reached for his bicep. "Really?" he asked his dad's best friend, voice hoarse as he thought about how his mom mourned his dad for the rest of her life.

"Yes. Make sure you treat her well."

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

The tower wasn't large, and all of you had to really cram in there. But as soon as your kids saw all of the instrumentation panels and the line of officers in uniforms wearing headsets, they started asking questions.

"Quiet," you reminded them. "We promised we would be very quiet."

Bradley squeezed through the group until he was facing everyone, and he waved so everyone's attention was on him. "We have two pilots who are out over the desert and in position for you to give them some flight commands. Their call signs are Coyote and Hangman, and each of you are about to be tasked with telling them how and where to fly."

You gasped, heart beating a little faster. "Is that safe?" you asked, looking from Bradley to Natasha.

"Well, it's just Coyote and Hangman, so if anything happens, it's not such a big deal," Natasha said, earning a bland look from Bradley while she laughed at her own joke.

"It's perfectly safe," Bradley said, holding up a stack of papers. "I'm going to have everyone read off of one of these sheets." He started handing them out to the kids. "Once Lieutenant Maxwell here gives us the go ahead, she's going to turn on the speakers so we can communicate with Coyote and Hangman without a headset. And that way everyone will be able to hear the transmissions. Sound good?"

It sounded too good to be true to you, but you nodded silently. A minute later, the woman sitting in the chair at the end, removed her headset and flicked some switches. "It's all yours, Lieutenant Bradshaw."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Maxwell." He raised his voice a little louder. Coyote. Hangman. Do you copy?"

"We hear you loud and clear, control," came a voice with a southern drawl.

"Copy," came a second man's voice. "Ready at the throttle."

Bradley pointed to the paper in Oliver's hand and nodded. "Go ahead and read it," he whispered.

Oliver cleared his throat and practically shouted, "Hangman, break right. Coyote, breach the hard deck."

"Copy tower," came the immediate response.

"See it on the screens?" Bradley asked, pointing to where there was some sort of radar output of the placement of two aircrafts dipping and diving. "Nia, your turn."

She read, "Hangman, bank down to five o'clock low," and sure enough, one of the jets changed position on the screen. The children were taking this entire mission very seriously, and you were almost shaking with excitement from everything that happened. This was literally the best field trip in the history of field trips. 

Jayden was the last one to go, and after he shouted out the commands, he said, "Hangman is kind of a dumb call sign, isn't it?"

"I resent that!" drawled the first voice.

"I mean, it's just not as cool as Coyote," Jayden told him while Bradley stifled his laughter.

"He's not wrong," came the second voice. "Please tell your teacher you earned a bonus point for being so smart, courtesy of Coyote."

"Copy that!" you said, and Bradley handed the reigns back over to Lieutenant Maxwell. As quietly as could be expected, the group headed back down the stairs and onto the tarmac where apparently there was another surprise. 

Bob was waiting with a crate full of noise canceling headphones. "Hangman and Coyote are on their way to land their jets on the runway!" he said, passing out the headphones to everyone. "With proper ear protection, we can stand here and watch them come in, but we need to keep our ears covered at all times."

The kids were all reaching for a pair, and Bradley walked around to adjust them and make sure they fit nice and snug. When he got to you, he took some extra time, letting his thumb tease your cheek before moving on. Bob stood ahead of everyone with a radio to his ear, then he turned and gave a thumbs up before stepping to the side and securing his own ear protection. 

Off in the distance, you could see two dots rapidly growing in size, and even though you knew what was coming, you still jumped a bit at the noise they made as they screeched through the air and touched down on the runway. You were overwhelmed. Your heart was full. It was hard to believe that your aviation lessons in your classroom led all nineteen of you here.

You'd never be able to top this day for the rest of the school year, and you were okay with that. As long as Bradley would visit you again. And again. And again. If he hadn't already reached legend status, he definitely had after this, and you were certain an hour wouldn't go by for the foreseeable future where the kids weren't asking about him.

"Can I walk you all back to your bus?" he asked after collecting the headphones with Bob.

You let your knuckles bump against his. "Please do, Lieutenant Bradshaw. And on the way there, please tell us how we're your favorite field trip group of all time."

"I can do that with an abundance of detail."

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

Legendary. I want to go on the same field trip a million times with Bradley as my tour guide. I've started to think about what I'm going to include in the rest of this fic, so let me know if there's something you're dying to read about these two! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[happy-tori-friends]

I'm loving the Oblivion series,it's so funny and cute!If it's okay to ask questions about the characters,can I ask what the differences between Splendont's relationship with either of the twins are?

i'm glad you're enjoying it, and yes it's perfectly fine to ask questions, ask as many as you want! :D!

obviously the endgame is the v poly with them, so i'll answer both for that and as they are now in the early stages of friendship.

Friendship

Splendont honestly treats them both very similarly - he considers them both as his friends. He developed a soft spot for them almost immediately, and he genuinely likes helping them. He's also a little bit willing to mess with them and joke around, albeit hesitantly bevause he doesn't want to push their boundaries too much. He is willing to be affectionate with them with occassional headpats, but only occasionally and nothing more than that.

Lifty has been a bit more open with Splendont, more willing to trust him. Lifty is generally nicer to him, more willing to vouch for him and defend him. He's overall a bit nicer, he genuinely smiles at Dont a lot more.

Shifty, on the other hand, is more closed off. He's a lot more sarcastic, more crude, he snaps a lot more than Lifty, and he likes to mess with Dont. He makes a lot of jabs that may or may not be funny (though he thinks he's hilarious no matter what). It dies annoy him that he often doesn't get any sort of reaction from Splendont, but when he does, he gets a little excited (though he tries to hide it). He doesn't often genuinely smile for Dont, though as they griw closer, both and Splendont become more willing to genuinely express themselves.

Dating

When he actually asks them out, they'll have been friends for a while. They know where boundaries lie and such, so Dont's more willing to tease them and the twins will even tease back (moreso Shifty).

He gets very good at reading them, and noticing their differences. Both of the twins enjoy expressing and recieving love in similar ways, although they do favor different ones. Dont definitely takes notice of this and, while he'll express his love in all different ways, he will try to cater to their favorite ways. The twins are very persistent when they want attention - Lifty is the more affectionate one, but Shifty is more annoying about it when he does want it.

Lifty's still more open, more likely to say he loves Splendont from the start, and more willing to share his feelings without (much) prodding. He's less likely to fight with Dont, and will act as a mediator when Shifty does. Splendont will often mediate if the brothers fight as well, and he's willing to comfort both of them when needed. When Dont and Lifty fight, it's often something more serious, and Lifty will sort of hole up for a while until he's ready to talk.

Shifty is a bit more open than he was, and he gradually opens up enough to say that he loves him. He's more likely to say dirty things and try flirting (but when Dont does the same he gets flustered). He's more argumentative than Lifty, and fights with Dont (and his brother) more because of this. As time goes on, he does get more willing to be vulnerable, but it takes prodding to get him to admit what's wrong.

Overall, on Splendont's end, he treats them very similarly because he cares about / loves both of them, with differences catering to how they act.

i hope this answered the question sufficiently enough, t'was surprisingly hard to put things into words, and i ended up rambling, as i usually do. 😅

(alright now im gonna go make a lil tag directory - maybe i will think of a ship name for dont and the twins, and maybe one for flippy and splendid to use here specifically, then a prompt thingy, and finally reblog at least one prompt list b4 maybe working on another mascot for magical warrior au. or maybe i'll dick off instead of any of that.)

[moonyslove78]

So here's Part 2 because I have no fucking self control when it comes to these two and have to talk about everything when it comes to @liz-allyn's writing!

🕷️🕸️PART 2 - SUGAR & VICE VOL. 2

LOVE ON THE BRAIN SPOILERS AHEAD!🕸️🕷️

Jesus, the way my brain did a complete 360 in this moment! Completely filthy smutty thoughts to utterly emotional and heart wrenching. The "I love you, Forever. Remember? No matter what." Took me out. ❤️‍🩹😭

And I'm quite positive Honey was feeling the same way. You could see her quickly trying to put those walls right back up and regain her control on the situation.

But, jokes on us & Honey, she's always in control. Even when she's 'not', she actually is. Because Peter will make sure of it. He may play that tough exterior Mob Boss attitude up but when it comes to her, he admitted it himself. He wants it all.

Btw, this small part had such "Bad Romance" vibes and now I wanna listen to Gaga & dance around my kitchen.

🫠🫠🫠

That is all. Thank you for your time. 🙌🏽

Holy. Shit. Liz!

Where do I even begin to start here? I honestly wish I could even form coherent thoughts at this point. This had to have been one of the most filthy, while simultaneously being one of the most beautifully written smut scenes I've read in so long. (if not, ever)

I just can't with Peter's dirty talk. It makes my toes curl, while also making me want to cry from praise. If that's not Honey's ultimate lover, I really don't know who is! 😭

But also... damn... that was fuckin' hot. 🥵🤤

Just a few of my favorite dirty quotes from the Mob!Daddy himself, Peter Parker, everyone... 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

Also, same here, Peter... same here... I, too, lose my fuckin' mind when she calls you that name. Cause then you proceed to refer to yourself as such and fall head deep into the role. 🙌🏽😮‍💨

🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽

Yessss... all of it. Give me it alllll!

Or well, give her all of it and I'll just read about it and pretend for that I'm Honey for a few. 👀

Oh and that slightly condescending tone with the "Shit, sweetie..." part... holy hell. 😈

I am always totally down for some gut rearranging when it comes to Peter & Honey. So like, this thought process of his in this moment was a complete and utter wet dream. 👏🏽 The way you've written this scene is just perfection and I cannot get enough! Nor can I put into words how much I truly loved this with a passion.

I'm noticing now how & why I was so enthralled with this scene. His reassurance and love for her shining brightly behind the utter filthy things he's saying and doing to her in the process, as well as her with him is outstanding. And I really cannot wait to see how things progress after this... (🥲 since I already know what's about to happen)

Like I had mentioned to you previously, this was where I simultaneously wanted to laugh, cry and help Peter beat down her door. But his reaction to such a situation was priceless. The way he very calmly decided that he wouldn't cause any scenes and that he wasn't going to give up in his proceeding to win her back. (Even though we all know he's won her back already... she's now just giving him hell. Which, I too, agree he deserves. 👀😂😭)

I just hope she doesn't go too hard on him. 😂

But also, liike... if it's the cause of chapter's such as this... go hard, Honey!! 👏🏽😂

Also... I know we all agree...

I fuckin' love Cat so much. I just wanna be her friend so bad.

And yet another reason I want her to be my friend. 😂👏🏽

The "Sure did." had me rolling though. Cause she certainly did "give him hell"... as well as a hell of a good time. 😈

Okay, so my final thoughts...

I mean, you're fucking incredible Liz. You have literally brought these babies back us and in the best filthy smutty way possible, reunited them.

I cannot wait to see what you have planned for the future and also, take any amount of time you need to do so. Your writing speaks for itself as to the time and dedication you put into it. It's truly breathtaking how you can make a smutty piece be such a well rounded, amazingly written piece of art. And I know so many of us can agree on that.

You have made me and so many other people so happy with the new beginning these two are embarking on. And I am so excited for the ride from here on out. 👏🏽🙌🏽

And for the record, I know @blooming-violets will probably agree, it was our pleasure & great honor to be your cheering squad! You both are such amazing, talented writers and just human beings in general and I am so damn lucky to have gotten to call you both my friends. 🥺🥰🤗

I love you Liz!! And thank you again for creating this amazing world that we can all escape to! ❤️👏🏽

love on the brain: sugar & vice, vol 2 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!OC]

summary: You didn’t think it was going to be easy, did you? AKA The night Peter and Honey reunited—Four. Months. Later. [mob!peter parker x oc!MJ] 

words: 11.8k (omfg)

NSFW/MINORS DNI - ABANDON ALL CHASTITY, YE WHO ENTER HERE (detailed warnings below)

extended warnings (spoilers): p^rn with plot, detailed smut, really just... filthy and deranged. slightly dubcon parts (although consent is clearly confirmed), no Y/N...ever, arguing, anger, jealousy, physical violence (slapping, scratching, throwing objects), almost hate sex, fem!reader with a vagina and breasts and wears a dress, oral (f! receiving), P in V, rough!dom Peter, sub!reader, possessive!peter, mirrors, titty!worship, shame and slight degradation, use of emojis, f! being restrained, discussion of masturbation, slight breeding kink, non-consensual voyeurism, moderate BDSM kink, “punishment” play (spanking, edging) bratty reader, peter parker being a dunce around women, mob!au, furniture harmed in the making of this

names used: daddy, princess, baby, babygirl

A/N: This is a one-shot standalone story that takes place immediately after the Epilogue of Vol 1. And serves as the official beginning of Vol. 2. If you haven’t read Vol.1, you really should. The main OC is AFAB and goes by the name “Honey.” You’ll need to read Vol. 1 to know why.  I try to be loose with my descriptions for people who prefer a Reader-Insert. But I’m not perfect. In this canon, Honey has a Latina heritage (as do I). Take that as you will. Thanks to @moonyslove78 and @blooming-violets for cheering me on through this very long hiatus. 

This is 18+ AF. And if you think the term ‘AF’ shows how old and out of touch you are, then you’re probably not old enough to read this.

This version of TASM Peter Parker is not canon. The relationships here are not healthy and the characters need therapy. Don’t date a mob boss IRL.

#1 - Love on the Brain

>>> heya boss. how’s your trip? 😜

Peter arched a brow as he peeked down at the text message.

>>> ⋯ >>> your trip to pound town? 🍆🍑 

He rolled his eyes, swallowing back an irritated snort.

Real mature, Felicia. 

He almost tapped out a haughty reply but stopped. Corners of his mouth turned down, he found himself unable to respond.

“So many choices. I just don’t know what I want.”

An understatement.

The girl of his dreams sat across from him in the quaint East Harlem Cuban restaurant. They were crammed together at a bistro table near the kitchen. The enormous menu took up the entire surface, and she had spent the last 25 minutes reading the items aloud. 

It was nearly 11 p.m., and they had yet to pick an appetizer. 

The woman he’d called ‘his Honey’ sweetly sighed with a shrug. “Now that we’re here, I just can’t make up my mind.” 

Her voice had a singsong tune to it, purposefully careless. Blissfully ignorant of the fact that Peter was starving.

“Maybe I’m just not feeling Cuban food tonight,” she shrugged, nonchalant.

Peter swallowed hard. Tried to rid his expression of any hint of impatience or irritation. 

“Oh,” he remarked delicately, thinking of all the different dinner reservations he’d made for tonight. It didn’t matter what magazine talked it up, didn’t matter how many “tire awards” it had won. 

Honey was unimpressed. 

“M’surprised,” he said, as emotionlessly as possible. “Thought you had your heart set on this place.”

The place was one of those hole-in-the-wall joints that had less than 10 tables, which made takeout the most popular choice. 

On this night however—a Tuesday— the restaurant was nearly empty, except for the overdressed couple and the loathsome kitchen staff, who didn’t expect to be subject to “este cabrón” and his picky girlfriend strolling in 30 minutes before closing. 

While Peter could feel the heat of their ire over the oven, Honey avoided it. She explained to the manager that Peter was “un ricacho que tiene demasiado dinero.” And with that, they were seated.

When Peter approached her earlier that afternoon in the park, he’d expected a much worse welcome. He nearly died of a panic attack when he spotted her on the park bench. It had been four long months since he’d attempted to communicate with her, and he half-expected her to throw her iced coffee in his face. 

Actually, he had no idea what to expect from her. Terrifyingly.

Peter had lamented to Felicia— “There’s no card that says, ‘Sorry, I ghosted you for a few months while attempting to shake the heat off my back.’ Which flowers say, ‘I apologize that the last conversation we had, I called you a whore in front of a room full of cops’?”

The true challenge came when Peter actually looked into her eyes. He didn’t expect that one look would render him useless. 

She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Ethereal. Glowing. The human equivalent of a bouquet of sunflowers, with happy round cheeks and her hair tied back in a ponytail. She was the color of rainbows, and summer, and sunshine. She was the cherries of her red lip stain and the golden rays of her yellow linen sundress.

God, that dress. 

Peter planned for everything—but not that dress. 

His carefully rehearsed speech went out the window when he saw her in that dress: a cotton ruched-waist, tea-length gown in a yellow gingham pattern. It featured a sweetheart neckline that cradled her breasts perfectly between the halter tie-back straps. 

He had no idea where that dress came from, but it was the most perfect piece of fabric ever to grace a woman’s body. He would buy her twelve more of them, no matter the cost. He’d buy every last one.

He’d give her the sun, the ocean, Hawai’i, and all the stars in the sky— if only she’d forgive him. He was ready to throw himself on a bed of hot coals as long as it meant that she would take him back. If she would come back home.

Truthfully, he needed her to come home.

Not to get ahead of himself, he started by taking her to dinner. 

That was Felicia’s advice—women love dinner. solves everything. the fancier, the better, with lots of red meat—u know how they say food is the way to a man’s heart? dinner is the way to the ovaries. works every time.

Actually, Felicia gave Peter lots of advice. For once, he was more than grateful to accept it. 

>>> make her feel like you can’t take your eyes off her. but don’t stare. like a creeper  >>> be a gentleman, but not a pushover. you wanna be the good guy. soft YA novel boyfriend type

Followed quickly by—

>>> but not too soft! don’t be a little bitch. if she plays hard to get, you play offense.  >>> and defense.

Peter had no idea what she was talking about. But he knew when it was wise to trust the advice of more intelligent creatures than men.

Five restaurants later...

“I thought going to dinner was your idea?” Honey asked with pursed lips.

“It was; it was my idea,” he nervously replied. “Six hours ago—it was my idea.”

She narrowed her eyes to slits. “Hmm. Six hours. Long time to wait.” Her eyes fell down to the menu again. Her lack-of-sympathy said everything.

Peter’s pocket buzzed again, and he glanced down at the incoming text message from Felicia.

>>> ...???? 

He rolled his eyes. Tapped out a response.

<<< Not great.

“Am I interrupting something?” Honey asked with a clipped tone.

Peter jumped, pocketing his phone immediately. “No, just... just something... silly,” he muttered. “How ‘bout we get a few plates in, yeah? I’m gonna just order some stuff—”

“Like what?” she questioned skeptically.

“I don’t know,” Peter shrugged, his stomach twisting. “One of everything.”

“That’s wasteful,” Honey said, judgment sharpening her gaze. “Food waste is bad enough as it is in this city.”

“Well, at this point,” he snapped with an exasperated sigh, “I might be able to eat two of everything.” The words floated away from him, and he bit the inside of his cheek, wishing they would come back. Hesitantly, he made eye contact with Honey.

She peered at him disgustedly from over the top of her menu. She scoffed, crossing one leg over the other, and dropped the leather-bound book closed. 

“Don’t let me slow you down,” Honey said icily. “I’m not that hungry anyway.”

Peter’s eyes nearly bulged out of his skull. His pocket buzzed again. 

>>> the fuck? what do you mean?  >>> she was in love with you b4... how hard can it be to take her on a date?  >>> christ. did you fuck this up, parker?

He shoved the phone back in his jacket, nearly punching through the silk fabric. 

“If I’m wasting your time, tell me,” Honey sharply retorted. She crossed her arms even tighter across her chest. He had to force himself to look away from the way it plumped her breasts together. “I’d hate to keep you from something important.”

Felicia was right. He was fucking this up. Before he could open his mouth—

“Excuse me, señorita,” a masculine, smoky voice crooned at them. 

Peter and Honey glanced up to see a chiseled man in his 30s approach the table with a hurricane glass of ice. He was a specimen of Latin American art—a bronzed statue, with carved muscles that bulged out of his floral shirt. Deep brown eyes—no, hazel eyes— fixed on Honey as he reached across the table with rolled-back sleeves. The corded muscles in his arm, toned by long hours of hard labor, flexed gracefully as he gently set a cocktail in front of her. 

A frosted, colorless liquid speckled with crushed mint leaves filled the glass. Honey blinked with delighted surprise.

“Our compliments,” the young, disgustingly attractive waiter explained with a sultry smile and a thick accent. “In case you found yourself thirsty while browsing the menu.” 

A blush colored her skin as she glanced up at their handsome waiter. The sparkle in her smile was as blinding as ever, and she graciously looked back between the glass and the server.  The waiter— no way in hell this fuckin’ guy is a waiter— beamed back at her, enamored. 

“Oh, wow!” she gasped, reaching for the glass with dainty fingers. “Is this a mojito? That’s my favorite! How did you know?”

The waiter graciously chuckled. “Lucky guess. You look like a woman of refined taste.”

Peter felt his blood pressure rising.

Honey didn’t even look at her date, as if he was suddenly invisible. “Thank you,” she grinned, self-satisfied. “I mean, I do know my way around a Bacardi bottle.” The waiter chuckled, maybe too hard, at her silly joke.

“We want you to enjoy your evening with us,” the waiter added politely, sparing Peter a glance but keeping all his attention on Honey. “We are honored to have you as our guest.” 

The waiter spoke gentlemanly as he splayed his long fingers across his chest. “Please, take as much time as you need. No need to feel rushed. It is my pleasure to serve you.” 

Peter could feel a twitch behind his eye. Could have been the fire shooting out of his eyes. Fuck this prick, probably another Broadway reject or somethin’, couldn’t buy himself a decent shirt—His mind churned along with his anger.

Oblivious, Honey beamed up at him with a golden smile. “Thank you so much for saying that,” she replied, endearingly sweet. “You are too kind, um... I’m sorry, what was your name again?” 

“Pedro.”

Honey’s brows shot to her hairline. “Pedro?” she repeated, absolutely delighted. She glanced over at Peter. “Isn’t that something?”

The mob boss’ lip curled mirthlessly. “Oh, it’s somethin,’ alright.” 

Peter continued to burn his stare—fuck his stupid accent— into the side of the aloof waiter’s head. He wondered if Pedro’s handsome, chiseled jawline was sharp enough to cut through a noose.

Buzz..

>>> you’re keepin’ your cool, right?  >>> remember what i said.  >>> anything she wants. no questions asked! >>> don’t get all crazy possessive either

The joyful sound of her laughter ripped his attention away from his phone and back towards his charmed date. 

“Pedro,” she sweetly preened. “Can you give us a recommendation?” She briefly flashed her eyes at Peter before looking back at her new friend. “My date’s clearly distracted. He has no idea what I like.” 

Oh? Peter raised a brow at that. And lost his appetite.

Peter followed Honey down the hallway to his hotel suite while storm clouds swirled in his gut. Lighting crackled with each footfall. Tension clogged the atmosphere, and they shuffled in a silent fog to the door.

Despite Felicia’s advice about controlling his inner beasts, Peter’s hackles were raised, and his stomach growled. Now, he was hungry for more than just food. And simultaneously, he’d never felt so powerless. 

Peter noted how tightly she wrapped her arms around herself. Her face suggested she was deep in thought. He wondered if she was just as tightly wound as he was. Wondered if she could break his heart with just a look.

He was flailing. Pathetic.

Peter’s fist clenched his keycard tight. He had to be careful not to snap the card in half between his fingers. Was it from excitement or terror? Desire or rage? 

He had to focus, to make this work. He had nothing if he didn’t have her. 

Rigidly, Peter pushed the door open and stood to the side of the frame to let her enter. 

She paused briefly, lips tight, as she gazed into the rotunda entryway of the lavish suite. They hadn’t spoken in the car, and he hadn’t had the chance to explain the location. 

Letting out a steady breath, she strode through the threshold and stopped. Her body blocked the doorway. She turned to look up at Peter, defiant eyes flashing.

“This is as far as you go.” 

Peter blinked, looking at her in confusion.

Her tone was curt. Icy. He recognized that sound. It was the tone of voice she used when she wanted to draw blood, and it never failed to inflict pain. Her voice. Her eyes. Even her tongue was razor-sharp.

Peter curled a brow upwards. “Sorry?” 

Honey narrowed her eyes. “Not yet, you’re not.” 

He took a step back, blinking owlishly. 

“What did you think was going to happen tonight, Peter?” The ire of Honey’s question sliced through him. “Did you think you were gonna shave your face, take me to a fancy dinner, and then I’d just... open my legs for you?”

A literal ellipsis formed in his mind. 

Peter swallowed hard. “Uhhh—?”

“‘I’ll wait for forever, Honey,’ she parroted his earlier admission mockingly. “Is that all you have to say to me? You left me! For four months!”

Peter nodded his head, not sure exactly why or when he began. “I know, I know...”

“You know!?”

The walls of etiquette and politeness between them began to crack.

“How many times I gotta tell ya? I was tryin’ to protect ya, Honey—”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

It stung like a snake bite. Rage filled her eyes, disdain bubbling out of her mouth. She had only just begun. 

“You buy me all this expensive bullshit!” she scolded. “And you dress up in your ridiculous designer suits and parade me to all these fucking pretentious places! Like I’m some kind of accessory! Like you own the whole fucking city and everyone in it!”

He replied with a string of noises. Or, at least, he thought so.

“Big bad mob boss—all that power—and yet, you couldn’t just talk to me? You had me wait around for you like a stray dog! You can just come and go as you please, but you—you expect me to follow you around on a leash?”

“Honey, please. Let me explain—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Peter!” her voice echoed through the rotunda and down the hall of the hotel. “I don’t want to hear a single one of your lame excuses! I don’t want a fancy dinner, or a new Porsche, or a mansion, or whatever else makes your dick hard!”

Peter blinked rapidly, stunned. His body responded as if she had just kicked him in the place she referenced, “Jus’lemme—”

“And I sure as hell don’t want another apology!” she asserted definitively. “I don’t want you anywhere near me!” 

Peter’s jaw hung open, tongue dead in his mouth. The woman who barely stood at his collarbone stared down at him, making him feel inches tall. 

“Now, I’m going to bed. Exactly as I have been for the last four months.” Her voice thundered, “Alone!”

With that, the door slammed in his face, rattling inches from his nose. The echo reverberated through the empty hallway and inside his chest, emphasizing the deep crack that formed.

Peter let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. The shock subsided slowly, and his heart sank. The ache soon sizzled into a burn, boiling his blood. At the same time, the sting of her rejection was raw. Unbearable.

Unbelievable.

Absolutely unacceptable. 

He should break down the fucking door. Throw her over his shoulder and tie her up. Gag her—Anything to get her to listen.

Haplessly, Peter’s eyes fell on his expensive shoes—his Valentinos. Or maybe these were the Tom Ford’s? He had no clue. Just more bullshit.

Fuck—He was going to cry. Maybe he should let himself just do it. Lean into it. Drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness. Shoulders slumped, he squeezed his eyes closed. 

He was a little bitch.

Peter pictured a door closing on a rocket or an airplane. Whatever it was, it was leaving him behind. He was falling back to Earth, having placed too much faith in miracles. This was his punishment for flying that close to the sun—

The door swung open. 

Two hands grabbed Peter’s jacket, pulling him forward off his heels. It was a surprisingly fluid motion; his heartbreak had reduced the mass of his bones to nothing. 

Honey’s nails practically pierced his lapels. She yanked him through the doorway into the suite, slamming the door behind him, and slamming him into the door right after.

Before Peter could open his mouth to speak, she was on him like a viper.

A sharp, biting kiss swallowed him whole, stealing the oxygen from his lungs. The heat was as intense as he had remembered. This time, they didn’t melt into one another. Honey was like a wildfire, her touch scalding him. 

His skin flushed from the sudden unbearable heat. Before he could react, her lithe fingers started tugging the edges of his jacket. Clumsily, she tried pushing it back over his broad shoulders. As soon as he knew of her intent, he eagerly obliged, shrugging the garment off and to the floor. 

Her hands went to his throat, ebony-painted nails leaving trails on his skin. Buttons popped as she yanked on his clothes. Her goal could have been to draw blood with her kiss.

Every time her teeth tore at his lips, he responded with a groan into her mouth.

Clumsy, he fumbled with his fingers—reaching up to grip her by the hair. Finally, he wrenched her head back, detaching her bite from his face.

Immediately, he was met with an open-palmed slap on the cheek.

Sharp gasps cut through them, and they jumped backward a few feet. Tension and shock reverberated in the chasm they created. Like the barometric pressure plunging before a storm, an eerie calm settled over them. 

Honey blinked at him, jaw agape and her palm throbbing. 

Peter glared at her in silence. He looked a mess—hair unkempt, the top buttons of his shirt torn open to reveal jagged crimson scratch marks across his milky skin.

His heartbeat steadily increased as he gently dabbed his fingertips at the ache in his jaw. The exquisite lines of his face were stained pastel pink, flushed by arousal or anger. His eyes were black as night, so it could have been either one.

She looked just as wrecked. Dress askew, her hairstyle half-unraveled. Goosebumps dotted her skin. She looked shocked at the violence she was capable of, surprised and possibly guilty at her own strength. As the seconds passed, the feelings faded.

Peter watched her, pupils dilating, blood pressure rising. The shadow of a smile curved his mouth. His features darkened into something primal. Something familiar.

There’s my girl.

Slowly, he lowered his hand, studying her threatening look until his own expression began to match.

Physically, his senses were haywire. Danger, excitement, and a sick sort of pleasure rattled his bones and labored his breathing. The hairs on his skin stood on end. Alarms blared in his head. The sound of his own blood was almost deafening to him, thumping like a kick drum. 

Peter could hear her heart, too. Fast. Like a rabbit. He was a wolf in pursuit. 

Maybe the pain of her slap triggered him, a preemptive action against further attack.

She got one in, Peter mused mockingly. He knew she was no match. Not as Peter’s night vision sharpened. Not while he could taste the salt from her perspiration on his tongue. Most intoxicating of all, Peter could smell her desire. Like a rose bursting open.

In another blink, they switched positions. Peter snatched her by her shoulders and slammed her back into the wall, pinning her there. She went feral—hissing and raging at her entrapment.

Not a rabbit. A honey badger, then.

“Get off of me!” Honey spat.

“Shut up,” he ordered. Quiet and fierce.

Fingers gripping her forearms tight, he attacked her lips, teeth colliding. The ferocity stunned her. For a moment, it seemed like she finally submitted to him before she wriggled her mouth free.

“Mmffucker—Let me go!”

His body might as well have been a brick wall. His face was stonelike, eyes just as cold. 

“No.” 

Honey’s brow scrunched up like a petulant child throwing a tantrum. “I’ll scream!” she countered.

Peter smirked, the hickory in his eyes igniting. “Baby. You have no idea.”

Peter’s guarantee sent a shiver down Honey’s spine. He saw the gears turning in her mind as she carefully considered pushing him further. 

He hoped she would. 

His fingers tightened around her forearms. He crucified her under his gaze. And yet, despite the danger anyone else would have felt... A glimmer of curiosity flickered in her eyes.

It set his mind reeling. A tiny sign of weakness to temptation made Peter’s stomach trapeze. He zeroed in on it, licking his chops. 

Not to make it easy, Honey brought her knee up, attempting to make contact with his groin. There was nearly a foot of difference between their heights, and she paid it no mind.

Brave girl. 

Peter admired her tenacity. She had balls. Smart, too, he pleasantly recognized. Honey went for the weak spot first. Good call. 

Pointless, though. 

Nothing below Peter’s belt was weak when she was around.

Unfairly, Peter picked up on her attack before her leg was even bent. He snatched her above the knee, lifting her toes off the ground and prying her thighs open. 

He pictured the bruises on her skin that his fingertips would leave behind. Just the thought made him rock hard. 

A year ago, Peter would have been ashamed. He would have shied away from her, for fear of repulsing her, and took out his frustration by himself in the shower. 

Grinding his teeth at those memories, he pressed Honey’s hips into his waist, forcing her legs around him, and—Fuck—her heat.

Peter’s brain nearly short-circuited. She was like a bonfire against his belly. His cock pushed against his trousers, straining for her warmth. He secured her hips to his with a tight grip, which only pissed her off more. She thrashed, enraged. 

She really needed to stop doing that. It only made the burn worse. 

A few months ago, Peter would have been ashamed of the rush he felt from manhandling her. Ashamed of how his cock ached and twitched at her fruitless tantrums.

“Fucking asshole!” Honey sneered.

“Yeah?” he said with a bitter laugh. “You're a spoiled little brat!”

“Fuck you!”

“See what I mean?” Peter scoffed, holding her tighter. He breathed hotly into the shell of her ear. “Not even a ‘please.’” 

His pride was short-lived. Inexplicably, Honey arched her neck and buried her teeth into his shoulder. He roared—“Fuck! What the fuck!!??” —surprised she didn’t bite through the silk of his collared shirt.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only beast in the room.

They tumbled down ungracefully. Peter landed hard on his back, with Honey crashing on top of him. She collapsed on his lungs, knocking the wind from his chest. Sputtering, he reached out to grab her, his fingertips barely missing the hem of her dress. The small woman scrambled to her hands and knees, then to her feet. 

Honey dashed into the suite while Peter’s voice echoed—“Goddamnitareyacrazy!?”—after her. 

Padding on her toes, she ran into a darkened living room with vaulted ceilings that might have been large enough to fit her entire apartment. Outside glass walls, the Midtown skyline surrounded her. The Metlife and Empire State Buildings glittered proudly in a breathtaking view.

The room was situated in the corner of the building. Velvet curtains framed the floor-to-ceiling windows, providing an unobstructed view of the city. The Dark Academia-Meets-Glam aesthetic seating area featured a sleek, modern leather sectional and mod velvet chaise lounge chat set. 

Without time to admire any of it, she scrambled to the first piece of furniture she could reach. She grabbed the first thing her fingers could find—a designer fruit bowl centerpiece made of polished stainless steel and brass pomegranates. 

It was exquisite and expensive. 

Honey spun on her heel and flung the heavy metal at Peter.

He dipped deftly, his spine bowing back, narrowly missing the bowl as it whipped past him. The object barreled through a crystal chandelier, glass shattering like raindrops as they came down.

“Hey—!” he scowled, facing her with an indignant glare.

A moment later, he quickly shielded his face from another flying object: an asymmetrical crystal-and-Riverstone candelabra that crumbled against his forearm. It might as well have been a brick, with ceramic shards tumbling off of his shoulder. 

Peter bristled in aggravation, brushing the pieces off. Now, she was really pissing him off.

He glanced up just in time to see a glass vase containing two dozen roses—meant to be her gift—hurtling towards his head. Reflexively, he snatched it from the air with one hand, water and all. He palmed the crystal vase like catching a baseball. Didn’t spill a drop. 

His quick reflexes stunned the both of them. Peter’s jaw went slack—partially at his ability to save the flowers, but mostly with indignation that Honey had somehow destroyed $1,000 worth of the hotel’s tchotchkes in a few seconds. 

“Enough!” Peter barked, carefully setting the vase down. Ignoring him, the woman darted toward another side table, already reaching for another expensive object to throw at him. 

Suddenly, Honey’s ankle was caught in a sticky grip. Both legs pulled out from beneath her. She flattened immediately with an ooof—her belly dropping to the wool carpet. 

Dazed, she glanced back at her legs with a crease in her brow. With a jolt, she was pulled along by a stringy, spongy substance on her ankle. It felt the way canned compressed air feels when shooting skin at close range. 

Her nails dug into the carpet fibers as she was dragged back. “Agghhh! What the—Getitoff!” 

As soon as the pulling stopped, Honey was on her back again, gazing up at the sharp lines of Peter’s cold gaze. He towered over her, even on his knees, as he mounted her hips. Protesting, she pelted him tirelessly with her fists.

The smell of sweat loomed in the air as he finally restrained her. He caged her in, pinning her wrists to the floor. Nerves buzzing and tempers flaring, she continued to writhe and wrestle with him to no avail. Peter quickly overpowered the more petite woman, fomenting her anger. 

“You’re hurting me!” she sneered breathlessly, teeth gritted. 

Peter was unimpressed. “Liar.”

“M’not lying—!”

He glared back, barely breaking a sweat. “You’re so full of shit—!”

“Fuck you! What do you know—?”

“I know you, Honey!” he charged, silencing her. 

She went still, subdued beneath his dark gaze. Peter loomed over her like a stormcloud. “I know the games you like to play,” he said—both teasing and sinister, toying with his prey. He lowered his lips until they breathed the same air. 

Honey’s focus was split between Peter’s intense stare and glistening, kiss-ravaged mouth. She tried not to notice the sensation of her nipples brushing against the fabric with each labored breath. He could easily reach down and touch her. Tried not to focus on how solid his chest felt against hers, like carved marble. Tried not to focus on the dark chocolate of his eyes melting in the heat of their gaze. 

Just as intensely, Peter watched her watch him—zeroing in on the idle way her tongue darted to wet her lips. The tiny action shot electricity down his spine, straight to his groin. 

Honey felt that, too. A tiny gasp escaped her, her lashes fluttering. The fight suddenly left her arms as she noticed the heavy bulge against her hip. 

He was hot. Not just figuratively. Feverishly hot. He was so hard, too—and just for her. The lewd image of him splitting her open on his cock made her insides clench. 

Peter eyed her dangerously, his voice a dark abyss. “Think you can hide it from me, eh?” The teasing smile on his lips bordered on a snarl. “Gonna sit here an’tell me... that if I were to reach down between your legs right now...” Her heart hammered in her chest, hanging on every word. In her mind, she was begging him to follow through with the threat. “...Those panties won’t be soaked?” 

Honey failed to swallow back a little mewl as he leaned down closer.

“Ya think I can’t feel ya, huh?” he mumbled, lips ghosting the curve of her throat. “Think I can’t smell how wet you are right now?” Another wanton exhale left her belly as she leaned into the heat of his breath on her skin. “Y’know I can already taste you on my tongue, babygirl.”

Honey’s mouth and legs seemed to part further at his vulgar words. She shivered at the sensation of his slick tongue traversing her pulse point.

“You’re... an asshole...” she murmured breathlessly. She sounded half-asleep.

Peter hissed, “And you’re a needy little slut, aren't’cha?” 

The sudden ferocity made her eyes unintentionally roll back. A second later, Peter’s fingers collared her, choking off the small mewl in her throat. He turned her by the chin, wrenching her attention to him. 

“Hey—Eyes on me,” he commanded.

Mesmerized, Honey blinked up at him like a fawn.

“How ‘bout that little stunt you pulled with the waiter?” he prodded. There was an icy edge on the last word. Her throat bobbed while she kept her face neutral. The bright amber of his glare penetrated her. Peter continued accusatorily, “Those flirty little giggles while he gave ya fuck-me eyes? Y’think I didn’t see that?”

Honey sniffed, stiffening her upper lip. This was a power move; she knew better than to back down. “Look who's jealous,” she scoffed. 

With a jolt, she again attempted to wrench her wrists free. He simply held on tighter, closing his talons as she twisted like a snake.

“Jealous?” Peter repeated calmly, narrowing his eyes into slits. “Me? Nah.” His hands suddenly seized her hips as he forcibly jerked her up off the floor. A slew of profanities spilled from her mouth, bucking against him as he carried her.

In a few strides, he was at the edge of a dining table. With little regard for his barbarity, he plopped Honey on the surface, shoving her flat on her back. Peter arched over her as if to dominate her, spine bowing until he filled her periphery with his fierce gaze. 

Honey’s eyes sparkled, cheeks colored from the rush. “Threatened, then!”

Peter’s face softened inexplicably. Blinked at her for a moment, head tilting. Then, he landed an open-palmed smack against her ass. 

It was a surprisingly heavy blow, as close as he’d ever come to intentionally inflicting pain on her. Honey yelped, hissing from the sting on her upper thigh. Right after the strike, Peter’s fingers began kneading her flesh, soothing the welt that was bound to form.

“See, if I were a jealous man,” he noted with an evil sneer, “I woulda gouged his eyes out with a salad fork.” 

Peter swallowed up her gasp with a forceful kiss. A few moments later, he broke away.

“If I felt threatened?” he added breathlessly, “I woulda bent you over the table and fucked you dumb. Let everyone in the Five Boroughs hear you beg for my cock.”

Once the filth rolled off his tongue, Peter went back to using it to lash against hers. Honey was overwhelmed by the soft, wet muscle invading her mouth. Not only that, the violent edge to his words felt like standing in a river and grabbing a livewire. A shiver racked through her body, a current of pent-up anger and desire sending blood rushing to her core.

As if on cue, Peter’s fingertips made contact with the lace fabric between her thighs. She tremored at his touch, heart skipping. He toyed with the soft, stretchy material. Snapped it lazily against her flesh.

His voice was hypnotizing. “I woulda shoved these dirty panties down his throat just to never hear his stupid fuckin’ accent again.”

Honey felt drunk off of the vitriol he poured into her ear. It was violent and possessive... and it shouldn’t have made her so horny, and yet—

Honey trembled with anticipation, panting like a bitch in heat. “I-I... can’t... ugh, fu—” 

The pads of his fingers ran firmly along her seam. She let out an embarrassing whine. Peter's prediction was spot-on. A shameful amount of wetness coated the inside of her thighs. He played with the soaked fabric and smeared her mess across her skin with a smug smirk.  

“Think I don’t know what you like?” he muttered darkly, echoing her earlier jab. 

RIP!

The lace bunched at her waist. Honey’s wet skin felt particularly chilled being exposed to the air. She quivered with anticipation. Her head was spinning, pussy throbbing. She felt worshiped and simultaneously defiled. 

Peter pressed his forehead into hers, skin-to-skin. She stared into the black of his eyes in suspended silence, like the pornographic thoughts in his head were being projected into her mind.

Her own pupils were blown black. “Fuckin’ hate you so much—”

“I don’t care.”

“—re’such an asshole—”

“I don’t care,” he repeated more firmly. Then, “You belong with me.”

“You left me!” she fired back.

The sharpness of her tone sobered him a little. He blinked and sighed. “I couldn’t leave you. I didn’t leave you.”

She attempted to sit up, trying to lift her shoulders unsuccessfully. She writhed with spite, “Fuckin’ selfish prick, I outta cut off—”

“What was my drink order?”

He blurted the last sentence out with a mind-blowing level of calm. At once, their bodies went still. Still pinned to the table with a hummingbird beneath her breast, Honey stared up at him in confusion. 

Her brows pinched together. “Huh—?”

“My drink order,” Peter repeated, his expression void of the aggression he had the previous moment. 

It was like a mask had fallen away, and the man on top of her transformed into a different person. Maliciousness evaporated, replaced by eagerness. Desperation. 

Peter stared at her, intently searching her gaze. “At the shop,” he whispered, eyes soft. “What you used to make for me every time I came t’see you..?” The words fell away as he stared at her expectantly. 

She arched a brow. 

It had been black coffee, bitter and dark. Just like Peter’s entire world. How it had always been. Until—

“You said I should try something new,” he added, with urgency like reminding her of a forgotten dream. “So you made something for me—something... special.”

Peter’s heart swelled through his eyes at the last word. Honey stared up at him, perplexed. He was looking for the answer on the tip of her tongue:

Honey and Lavender. 

Confusion ceded to aggravation. A line formed between Honey’s brows.

“You remember, right?” he asked, hopeful.

She did. He knew she did. He could see it at the corners of her eyes, pooling behind her eyelids. Sobering memories flooded her, cooling the heat between them. A different sort of ache settled in.

Reluctantly, she nodded.

He took a breath, relieved but still anxious. “Say those words,” he said, “if you really want me to stop.”

Her damp lashes fluttered as Honey blinked up at him in surprise. Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, he swallowed dryly. His stomach lurched at the thought of being sent away like this. 

Still, it was a risk he had to take. 

“I can let go, walk away,” he offered tenderly. “Right now. No questions asked.” Each word felt like sticking needles through his tongue. He gave her an out, needing confirmation that her reciprocated lust wasn’t imagined. 

“Say the words,” Peter whispered in lament, “and I’ll leave you alone.”

That word settled like a boulder crushing his chest.

Despite Peter’s heart telling him her rejection would be unbearable, the thought of truly harming her was more so. 

Honey studied him with thoughtful eyes, contemplative and curious. He had won. He subdued her. Restrained her. She remembered when he threw a piano like a toddler throwing a toy truck. 

She could do little to stop him if he wanted to force her. And yet—

There he is. 

This was the man she remembered. The one that was ready to die for her. To die by her hand, if that’s what she wanted. 

“Two words,” Peter sighed, his nose brushing against hers. It was a sweetly affectionate gesture. “Say the words, and this can end right n—”

Honey captured his lips, stealing his breath like it was her only source of oxygen. Static filled Peter’s ears, his body tensing and relaxing simultaneously. He was soaring and plummeting. Rising and falling. 

Her tongue slipped past his lips, dragging along the pad of his mouth. Soon enough, the sweetness melted off in their flames. 

Honey pulled her mouth away, barely able to get out her plea. “Touch me, Peter. Make me feel it.”

And she dove right back in. This time, Peter plunged with her, deep beneath the waves of lust. He sank into her current, dragging her with the tide of desire.

Peter’s hands were frantic travelers. Flitting from her wrists to her shoulders. To gently cup her face. To smooth over the mounds of her breasts. To dig his fingers into the linen fabric of the sweetheart neckline.

“Love this dress,” he idly mumbled between kisses, abusing the neckline. “Mmm—where’d ya say ya got it?”

“Oh…uhm—?”

The question caught her off guard. She blushed, brain foggy with lust. Her instinct was to say something like ‘thank you,’ but her tongue fumbled the words. “Uh... it was, I think, Old Navy—?”

A ripping sound shocked her. She squeaked as a flurry of cotton fibers burst from the top of the dress. 

Peter yanked the linen bodice apart like tissue paper, his tongue chasing away any protest from her lips. Gooseflesh broke out as her skin was exposed to the air. Driven by lust, he shoved the ruined material down to her waist. 

“Fuck, Peter...” she gasped, scandalized.

“Sorry,” he muttered, not sorry.

It was his turn to be greedy. Peter dug his hands beneath the cups of her bra, toying with the peaks of her breasts. 

With a snap, the bra was torn in half. The strength in Peter’s long fingers stunned her. Puzzling her as much as it turned her on.

He laved at her left breast with his tongue, drawing an obscene moan from her. His hand pinched sadistically at her right nipple. The delectable sting traveled from her chest to her cunt. She arched—”ughhh, god”—her spine bowing beautifully.

He held the cleft of her left breast delicately in his hand while lapping at the ridges of her peaked flesh. Warm tongue caressed the tip, drawing shapes and discovering pathways to her pleasure. Every little flick inspired something new. She cooed and twitched beneath him. He was desperate to memorize her taste. 

Languidly, he massaged each of her tits inside his mouth, his cock aching as he imagined licking her pussy with the same fervor. It was almost unbearable. A strangled moan vibrated through his chest at the picture in his mind. 

Her reaction to the sound came out as an agonized mewl. 

Oh.

He needed more of that sound.

Peter felt her push on his shoulders. Trying to wriggle away from his mouth. 

This time, he had no tolerance for misbehavior. He grabbed both wrists and forced them above her head. Honey yanked back, stunned at being glued down to the table surface by his palms. 

The peach of his pouty lips curved upward as his eyes took a turn ravishing her. She was a sight of wicked debauchery. Her hair was a mess, and her nearly-naked body lay across the table like a feast. Her thighs locked around his hips.

He used one hand to rub circles into the delicate skin of her restrained forearms. The other hand mischievously dipped lower and lower, sliding through her wet heat. Calloused, dexterous fingers spread her lips open, playing in her slick and prodding her tight hole. 

Honey was finished. Ruined. Past the point of no return. Unconditionally surrendered. Helpless and eager to subjugate herself to her conqueror. Filthy sounds filled the room, punctuated by weak cries from his new loyal subject.

“So pretty,” he sighed breathlessly as he coated his fingers in her cream. “All this for me, princess?” He cooed at her, edging on cruel.

A broken gasp fell from her lips, her chest pulsing involuntarily. 

“Aww, what’s the matter? Does this little pretty pussy ache, baby?”

A vortex formed deep in her belly, dragging her in. He licked his dry lips, salivating at the image.

“I know it hurts, baby, I know. I know,” he teased. “It’s been hard playin’ all by yourself, huh?” The sunniness of his voice was eclipsed. “All alone. Screamin’ out my name into your pillow. Fingers buried deep in your wet cunt.”

Honey’s eyes snapped open. Before she could respond, the breadth of his middle fingertip penetrated her. She gasped as his finger speared her open. All the while, he wore a devil’s smile.

“Ain’t that right? Only for me.” Entranced, he watched her every twitch and shudder. “This pussy belongs to me, doesn’t it?”

It was a question feigning the need for her confirmation. She couldn't answer. Couldn't breathe. 

No, that can’t be right—had he been watching her masturbate in her apartment? Was he watching her the entire time he was gone? 

The possibility enraged her. Ten orgasms from the King of New York’s Underworld couldn’t even quell that fire.

Peter smiled wickedly, playing with her pussy. Taking his time toying with her flesh. He was a tyrant-king, dominating her pleasure. With a calloused hand, he held onto her cunt like it belonged there.

But she was his wild colt. Difficult to break.

“Oh-n—ohh god,” she gasped. Unbeknownst to him, an evil plot bloomed in her brain. Her lips curled into a smile.

“Fuck—gah—ohhhhh…”

He licked up each broken syllable.

“Yes! Oh, god, yes! Oh—” 

Sweat beaded on her chest, sin oozing through her pores.

“...Pedro.”

Halt.

Brakes squealing. Full stop. Not only in the physical world between them but also in Peter’s living fantasy.

Mischievously, Honey’s grin widened. 

She got him, alright. 

Flawless victory.

Dark eyes flashing, Peter withdrew his fingers from her. “Fuckin’ brat…”

In one fluid motion, Peter flipped her over to her belly, stunning her. He followed with another forceful slap to her ass cheek. This one was more punishing than the last, drawing a puppy-like yelp. His voice was ice. Eyes black. 

Now, she was in trouble.

“Think that’s funny?” he said through gritted teeth.

Peter manipulated her limbs like a rag doll. He maneuvered her forward until her cheekbone pressed against the table. She panicked for a moment at being in such a compromising position. 

The chill of the air across her wet pussy made her shiver. At the same time, she clenched at his roughness.

Peter kneaded her sides, pressing fingerprint bruises on her waist. He yanked her hips towards him until her knees were on the table’s edge. Honey’s face burned, stricken with modesty and flustered by how he hoisted her ass in the air. 

Her hips were propped up like a rack of lamb, and he licked his lips at the sight. It was too vulnerable, being bared to him like this. Obscene, on display, inches from his face. 

For a half second, she considered using the safe words. 

She squirmed uncomfortably while her mess dripped down the inside of her thighs. Peter denied any attempt to escape, eventually gathering her limbs and pulling her hands behind her back. 

Short puffs of breath fogged the glass surface of the table. Her heart pounded beneath her. Honey had only witnessed this side of him a few times—and never directed toward her. 

She was in trouble. But was she in danger?

The buckle of his belt clinked as it came free. Honey quivered at the sound, pussy aching in anticipation.

And if she was in danger, why did that make her wet?

“Pete—” Honey muttered, a scream bubbling at the back of her throat. Leather nipped at her forearms as he used his belt to tie her hands behind her back. 

“Ple-please—“

He fisted her hair, rearing her head back. Her neck arched beautifully, her chin dangling above the table surface.

“Listen to me, princess,” Peter snarled, hot in her ear. Spite peppered his tone. “If you ever call out another man’s name when I’m inside ya again— I’ll make ya wear nothin’ but my cum for the next week.” 

The savage tone contrasted with the glow of his eyes. 

It was always opposites with him.

This was the same man who coddled and worshiped her. The same one who kidnapped her, drugged her, blindfolded her, and gagged her. 

He forced her, a willing participant, into his bed—by asking her permission. 

Peter was more than capable of keeping her chained to his bedpost if he wanted it. 

Or… if she wanted it.

Peter snickered at her expression. “Ooh, yeah… Betchu’d like that, huh?” He taunted her like she was broadcasting her dirty thoughts. “Such a needy little slut for me, ain't that right?” 

Honey felt his warmth leave her back, like being plunged into the Hudson in winter. His hands reappeared at the back of her thighs, and her first instinct was to try to close her legs. 

That was a mistake and an impossible endeavor. 

He split her thighs like opening a book. Grinned at the sight as if he stumbled across gold.

“Fuck, babygirl, you’re soaked. Just talkin’ about it and look at the mess you made…”

Embarrassment and want ravaged her. The conflicting experiences had her ovaries twisted into knots. Honey bit her tongue, unsure if she was going to scream or moan. 

Instead, it came out like a pathetic mewl. “Pe-Peter, please—”

Then he open-palm-smacked her cunt, fingers landing directly on her labia. 

The wet sound it made was humiliating, and the sensation triggered all of the reactions above. She squealed at the sting on her folds. This was a delectable torture. For Peter, it was an appetizing sight. 

“Ya like that?” he grinned over the sound of her whimpers. He already knew the answer.

Another slap to her cunt made her whole body shake. 

“Like bein’ my kept girl? Tryin’ so hard to get my attention. Drivin’ me nuts. Well, you got it now, Honey.” 

Slap. 

A third strike had her pussy clenching. Honey had never experienced such an erotic rush before. She shuddered with embarrassment, afraid she’d cum from this—

Slap! Slap! Slap!

Honey gasped for air, a scream breaking through her voice. She was drowning in sick pleasure, tears in her eyes.

The mob boss gripped her thighs again, pulling her knees off the table and lifting up the weight of her lower half. The action was as easy as lifting a sheet of paper. 

God, his strength was impossible. She struggled to comprehend it while picturing herself being broken apart by it. A slew of tiny pleas fell from her lips. She didn’t even know what she was begging for—his mercy or punishment.

“Shh, shh, babygirl,” he purred with a candy voice. Brought his lips to where she was split, equal parts seductive and sinister. “Be still for me. I gotcha.” He wore a Cheshire grin. “Lemme kiss it better.” 

Slowly, he licked a line from her clit to the entrance of her cunt. She shuddered, followed by a lewd wail. She bucked her hips as he let the tip of his tongue toy with her. 

“Mmmf—so fuckin’ sweet,” Peter mumbled between languid strokes around her vaginal gate. His grip was inescapable. “Can’t help myself, s-sooo hungry…”

Honey felt an evil smile against her skin before his mouth went back to work on her. Tiny, stinging nips and kitten licks tormented her flesh. With her hips locked in place, he lashed her clit with his tongue.

Honey squirmed against the leather belt, her nails digging into the grain. She wanted to be bound like this forever. 

Peter had no intention of letting her go any time soon. 

With her thighs spread open, he dragged her toward the edge of her ecstasy. As soon as he felt her body begin to shake, he pulled away. The punishment ended with another smack to her swollen clit.

Honey cried out in frustration at having her release snatched away. 

Oh, yes—He was weak for that sound.

“What’s’a matter, baby?” he smirked with a dark chuckle. This was becoming his favorite pastime. “You mad now that you’re not the only one who can play games?”

“Gahh—Peter… fuck, plea—don’t tease—!”

Peter’s fingers slipped inside with a squelch, shutting her up. Simultaneously, he lapped at her juices while massaging her walls. Soon, he settled into an unbreakable focus.

Each kiss to her nether lips sizzled with passion. Fueled by devotion usually only reserved for a wedding day. 

“—mmmm, tastes so pretty,” he murmured into her flesh, “my pretty girls...” 

In her dazed state, Honey wondered with a pang of jealousy who the ‘she’ he was referring to was. 

“—sooo sensitive; she likes it when I kiss her like that, yeah?—” He said, in between languid, open-mouth kisses to her slit.

Jesus Fucking Christ, he’s talking about my pussy? In the third person? 

Honey gasped, scandalized at the preposterous thought. It was the most deliciously erotic moment of her life. Enraptured tears budded her eyes, the coil in her belly nearly suffocating her.

“—Fuck, oh god, Peter, don’t stop, don’stop, donstop, donstah—”

Preoccupied with his own intoxicating thoughts, Peter was eager with his tongue and steady with his hands. The room filled with the filthy, wet sounds of his carressing and French kissing of her cunt. He pleasured her with his fingers and mouth, passionately— reverently— as if making love to two different brides. 

Soon, Honey’s pleas were barely more than breathless whining. He smiled like the devil, lips coated with her slick. 

“Patience, Honey,” he admonished, sing-song and patronizing. “If you’re a good girl, maybe I might let you get to taste Her, too.”

Fuck—she was going to come from this. 

The more perverse his words were, the closer she was. So, so close—

Then, another sharp slap. 

Honey wailed, fingers digging into the leather of her restraints. Her whole body protested. The cycle repeated so many times she lost count—until her flesh was puffy from his torture. 

“Please, don’t—please, Peter, don’t tease,” she frantically begged, tears streaming. “No more— Please, I wanna come so bad—” 

He sucked on her clit.  “Yeah?”

“God, yes, please—Nyahhh-need you—Need you... inside—“

Peter hissed behind his teeth, struggling to keep his pace even as his cock jerked at her pleas. He flashed an evil smile. “S’at right?”

“Pl-please, f-feels so good, ple—gah-I need it—!”

He was in no hurry. It was almost greedy, the way he ravaged her. His fingers pressed Merlot bruises into her hips and waist while his mouth left raspberry welts on her thighs. 

Honey cried out around a moan as she felt his fingers deepen. His loving touches to her sensitive spots turned wicked, reminding her this was also a penalty for her bratty transgressions. She wept and squirmed, practically drooling on the table.

He simply grinned.

“—Mmmhm, that’s it—scream for me, princess—”

Honey’s tiny little hip thrusts fit easily in his palm as he groped her. He found it adorable, really.

“Mmm...m’sorr—ow—agh!”

“Sorry’s not gonna cut it,” he panted, eyes blown black. Shadow returned to his voice. “You’re mine now, ya hear?” His eyes traveled to where his fingers were buried to the knuckles. “Gonna fuck you every way I want—”

“Pleasepleasepleaseyes—it’syoursit’syoursallyours—”

His eyes swam over her body, drunk with lust.

All mine. 

The sinfulness of his thoughts tugged his insides into a vortex. This was wrong, he reasoned. Not how he wanted this to go. Poor girl sounded brainless, begging to be fucked.  He wasn’t much better off. This wasn’t how he planned this to go. 

But he was willing to pivot.

Hands shaking, he fumbled with his fly. It wasn’t until his cock bobbed free, glistening with precum, that he felt any sort of relief. Peter grabbed her hips and lifted them off of the table, repositioning her so he was lined up with her slit.

“Fuckin’ need you so much, Honey—” he muttered mindlessly, focused on pushing the swollen, leaking crown of his cock against the silk of her pussy. 

Her hips’ weight rested easily in his hands, and she keened at the sensation of his head pressing against her entrance. 

And god, she'd forgotten he was thick.

Honey tensed up, even as her pussy throbbed with want. It was as if all her muscles were reaching for him, heart included.

It was too much. Mascara trailed faintly down her cheeks. Her heart soared. And ached. She felt spoiled with pleasure, delighting in this penance.

More. She wanted more.

“Fuck—wanted ya so bad,” Peter mumbled, watching his cock slip through her lips. He sounded airy, hypnotized by the view. “Wanted t’crawl through your window like the goddamn—ahh— boogeyman... fuck ya in your own bed. Wanted t’take’ya home with me and keep ya there— Never let you leave.”

Honey swallowed back a sob. Then why did you send me away? 

He paused. 

Uh-oh. Did she say that out lo—?

“Because I’m an idiot,” Peter huffed, his voice fragile. 

He leaned forward and lovingly kissed up her spine, each tender press of his lips an apology. 

“I’m a stupid fuckin’ fool.” The heat of his breath ghosted across her back. “So stupid—Thought I could protect ya if I kept you away. Thought I could somehow live like that—without you.” He shook his head. “Goddamn fool.”

Peter felt the sting of tears flooding his vision. Instinctively, he squeezed his eyes shut to keep them out. “I can’t live without ya,” he nearly whimpered. “There is no life for me if you’re not in it.”

“Peter,” she said, feeling her heart lurch. Her spirit was a ship being tossed in a hurricane. One more wave, and she would break. Honey’s voice trembled, “St-stop t-talking—”

“Not until I’ve said what I shoulda said—!”

“If you don’t shut up and fuck me in the next five seconds—”

Peter cut her off by pulling her up by the shoulders and standing her upright. Honey fought it—because, of course, she did—desperately clutching the steel armor around her heart. 

Overpowering her again, he tugged the naked woman closer until her back lined up to his chest. It was an awkward position with her bound arms crushed behind her against his abs. He towered over her, eyeing her face from the side, seeking her gaze. Hooked a finger beneath her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye. 

Always the fighter, Honey tried to wrench herself from his hold. Peter’s body was like a Greek god’s, with pillar-like arms and marble fingers keeping her from wriggling away. But his soft, soulful eyes are what pinned her in place. 

As soon as she peered into their oaken color, she was trapped again. 

“No,” she sneered, shaking her head. The tears weren’t from pleasure anymore. “Don’t—”

“‘Honey and Lavender,’” he whispered, featherlike. “Those are the words. All you gotta do is say ‘em, and I’ll stop.”

She gritted her teeth, bucking against his sweetness. His arms wrapped around her torso, pulling her in.

“I thought you wanted to fuck me!” she revolted, voice getting weaker by the second. “What the hell do you want from me, Peter?!” 

His features softened. Serenity pressed between his lips. “I want all of you, Honey,” he answered with resolve. “Body and soul. Wanna spend the rest of my life with ya. If you don’t kill me first.” 

He said the ‘if’ part with a teasing lilt in his tone and a half-smile. The same smirk that she loathed—and fell in love with. 

Honey squeezed her eyes shut. Peter’s thumb came up gently, wiping a messy tear from her cheek. That loving and pure act was worse than any torture he could inflict.

Walls tumbling down, her body loosened. She went slack against his arms, instead fighting to keep more tears from flowing.

“I love you,” he whispered, pouring his soul into each word. “Forever. Remember? No matter what.” 

Peter waited for her eyelids to peel back, revealing glossy eyes and a weary expression. They stayed still for eons. Nothing but their breaths and heartbeats between them, eyes locked on each other.

“Even if you’re mad as hell at me,” he added. “Even if you hate me—I want it all.”

Her lower lip wobbled. “And what then, Peter? What now?”

A moment passed. He leaned around her shoulder, bringing her chin close, and answered her with a kiss. Gentle at first, his tongue explored hers as she relaxed against him. She felt her toes leave the ground before she realized what was happening.

Peter broke the kiss. “Now?” he breathed into her hairline. “I’m gonna show you what it means to be mine.”

One of his hands left her torso—borrowed to push the head of his cock into her gate. An overwhelming burn erupted between her legs. She arched her back away from his abs as best she could while being split open.

Honey wailed brokenly, voice shattered, as he bottomed out. Peter’s hand instinctively came up to cover her mouth. She let the scream out into his palm, just as he’d promised.

Peter hissed, letting his head fall back in agonized ecstasy. His eyes drifted shut, feeling both relief and torment buried to the hilt in her warmth. 

He barely ground out, “Shh-shhh, s’alright... that’s it, s-so good, so good for me...”

His Honey was already writhing on his cock, and he hadn’t even begun to move. She was so goddamn tight he wasn’t sure he wanted to move at all.

Still, he couldn’t help indulging himself. Never could, around her.

The arm bracing Honey’s torso snaked back across her body. His hand, burning hotter than a branding iron, stretched out and smoothed over the curvature of her belly. Her pussy clenched tighter as his palm found the trophy he was looking for—an obscene bulge in her lower stomach.

A slow, sinful curve played upon his lips. “Fuck, babygirl. Look at you.” When he uncovered her mouth, her roars had quieted down to a wanton purr. He gently tilted her head downwards so she could witness the depravity herself. “Just look at how you take my dick, Honey.” 

She shuddered at the sight, nodding rapidly, unable to speak. She wondered if this was just more teasing, but she couldn’t think beyond the penetration. 

“God, you look so beautiful like that,” he muttered breathlessly. His amber eyes were fixated on the sinful spectacle beneath her waist, unable to avert his gaze. “So pretty with my cock stuffed up inside your tummy...” 

Peter sounded unhinged, even to himself. His abs twisted into knots. Vile, perverse images eclipsed his sense of decency—her body naked and wrecked, with his seed spilling from her holes. Then, her belly round with his children. Just the thought devolved him like his civilized nature was sucked back into a black hole.

Wordless whimpers poured from her lips as her taut muscles succumbed to his girth. Calloused fingertips reached further down, brushing against the hood of her clit. She jolted in his arms with the slightest touch.

At that moment, Honey’s world disappeared. Nothing existed but the exquisite ache between her legs. 

The conquerer inside him preened. “Is that the spot? Is that where it hurts, baby?” he purred into her ear with a filthy, predatory voice. Her body answered him, rewarding him with a delicious squeeze around his shaft. “That’s it,” Peter groaned, insatiable. “Good girl. So good for me.” 

His praise, even if it was teasing, was too much. Peter’s affirmations, paired with his ministrations, tightened the coil in her stomach. Exhaustion crept up on her body even as the bubble of desire swelled.

Ever so slowly, his hips pitched back and then forward. He bottomed out again at the end of the languid stroke. A shattered mewl burst from her lips, pussy pulsating around his dick.

She was magnificent. 

”Fuck, baby. Feels s-so fuckin’ good—ahh, I missed this tight pussy so much. Wanted to play with her so bad…”

Peter’s hips moved of their own accord. They were a pornographic masterpiece in the decorative mirrors situated around the room. He stole a greedy glance at the couple’s reflection. Smiling wickedly, he turned her head, making her see what he was seeing.

Honey’s stomach fluttered at the sight of her body—glistening and restrained—slotted against him. Her head bobbed as Peter gripped her hips and fucked into her like a sex doll. 

Perverse. Debauched. Divine. It made her lightheaded.

Slowly, he increased the pace of his thrusts, panting into her ear. At some point, she started muttering. Broken and embarrassingly desperate pleas and pet names tumbled unwittingly out of her mouth.

One of them must have caught his attention. But she honestly couldn’t remember what she had said.

“Ugh—I lose my fuckin’ mind when you call me that name,” he growled, throwing his head back. “Ya know that, precious? Such a good girl for me. Good girls get spoiled.” 

Honey’s body thrummed at his baby talk. In all its depravity, she started to suspect what she must have said in all its depravity. Slowly, she was losing the ability to be ashamed.

The slick-coated pad of Peter’s thumb circled her clit, before traveling down further. He curiously prodded where they were joined—“Fuck, look at how good ya open up for me.” — His fingers trailed the outline of her stretched hymen wrapped around his cock.

Honey closed her eyes and turned away, blushing from his praise. Timid about how she relished in the filth. Peter brought his lips to her ear as if there was a secret the two of them shared.

“Don’t worry, baby. I gotcha—Daddy’s gonna make the ache go away.”

The spring snapped. She was nearly knocked over by the wave of pleasure that followed. Her pussy fluttered around his cock with no warning, body trembling and toes curling. Her cream gushed down his shaft. 

He snickered as if he’d won a prize. 

Honey could vaguely recognize her pathetic voice through the bells in her ears. She squealed and cried out over his repetitive, patronizing chants — “Awwgoodgirl, fuckin’ so-so perfect— squeezin’ me so tight” — while he fucked her through her orgasm.

It felt like several moments of pure pink haze, herself a willing victim to his delicious, relentless pull. 

“Shit, sweetie, did you just come all over my cock?” he asked, exasperated.

Embarrassment flooded her despite her persistent mewling. 

“Don’t cry, baby. Don’chu worry,” he murmured affectionately, himself obsessed with the cavern of her divine flesh. “When I said I was gonna make you my toy, I meant it.” She whimpered, nodding her head as it rested back against his shoulder. “M’not finished with you,” he said, dropping an octave. “Not by a long shot.”

Time ceased to have true meaning. Peter rammed into her steadily.

“Please don’stop, please use me, please, wan’more—” She yelped like a puppy.

He smiled against her sweaty skin. “Yeah? Ya like bein’ a good girl? My good girl?”

“I’llbegoodI’llbegoodm’yours—fuck—yoursyoursyours—”

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he groaned, with another curse beneath his breath. Eyes drifted shut. “Good, good girl.”

All he could think of was more. 

More of that sound. More of her juices. More of her staccato breaths as he fucked her tits into a steady bounce on her chest. More of her whining, whimpering like a bitch in heat.

“All mine, all mine…”

Peter needed more of her. He needed to watch her fall apart on his cock again. Honey was so close already; he could feel it. He’d give her another orgasm, one that leaves her in tears. Then another. He was going to fuck her into submission atop the throne he built for her. She was already his queen. 

Then—He’d make her his whore.

Flip her on her back against the table—or couch— countertop—fuck, maybe the bed if he could remember where it was. Whatever he could reach first. 

Then he’d split her open again on his cock. That way, he could see the enraptured awe on her face. The neediness. Big, round, wet eyes pleading for his touch, calling him filthy names, as his cock bulges below her pubic bone. Begging him to rearrange her guts.

It was heavenly to witness. Peter loved watching her come. And he would, over and over. Once he relocated her to his bed—as soon as he remembered where it was— he could tie her to it.

Not that Honey was fighting at the present. There was no fight in her body, except maybe the will to keep conscious. With every strike against her cervix, she spread herself wider for him. 

But Peter knew she would like it. Honey wanted his unforgiving ecstasy. To take out the mounting frustration of the last few months on her wet pussy. 

“M’gonna fuck you so good, babygirl, m’gonna use your body like my fucktoy—make me feel s-sogood, don’worry—“ 

Honey full-body shuddered with a sob, her head thrown back against his shoulder. 

“S’okay, baby, you can scream if y’want, makes it feel better, doesn’t it, huh—”

Cock-drunk, she nodded, her words coming out as puffs of air.

“Don’stop—don’stop—please, fuck— fuckmehardDaddyIneedit—“

Oh. 

More. Of. That.

“M’not lettin’ you get away again…” he muttered, voice emerging from beneath his twitching abdominal muscles. With possessed eyes, he was glued to where they joined. “Never—never gonna let you go again… All mine now, Honey—you’re all mine…”

Her arms came up to circle the back of his neck as she panted into his throat. “My-my pussy is yours…”

“Everything,” he corrected.

“Everythi—god—I’m yours, Pete—ahh!”

Peter was getting close. No matter. He’d let himself come inside her soon. There was plenty more to follow. 

He barely recognized his own wrecked voice. “’m not leavin,’ baby. I’m not leavin’ ever.”

A gust of wind followed him as the front door to the suite slammed shut. Peter stood alone in the hotel hallway wearing a sheen of sweat... and nothing else. 

He flushed pink, fumbling to cover himself behind his hands. The cool air made the task easier.

Peter sighed. He’d need to talk to maintenance about better insulation up here.

But not right now. Not while Peter Parker stood ass-naked outside of his door, having been kicked out like a cheap fuck. 

Which might have been Honey’s point, he recognized.

The evidence of their past hour together made his skin sticky. She’d tousled his hair and etched into his back with her nails. He felt sore in places he hadn’t felt in years.

Peter also looked thoroughly fucked. A mixture of pain and relief surged through his muscles. His brain was branded with erotic images of her. He wanted them there.

The door opened again, lifting his hopes. He only caught a fleeting glimpse of Honey, wrapped sloppily in a bathrobe. The rest of her didn’t look much better than Peter. She wore a sour yet adorable scowl on her face.

With a huff, Honey hurled a tight wad of fabric at his nuts, unintentionally intentional in her aim. 

Peter oofed, doubling over to catch the ball of his clothes. At the same time, an Italian leather shoe smacked him in the head. Probably his Tom Ford’s. He heard the door slam closed again, rattling against the frame.

Perplexed, Peter gazed at the molding of the door and the gleaming golden script marking the room number. 

He wondered. 

Would she open the door again to throw him the other shoe? 

Or perhaps the slacks that went along with the dress shirt covering his balls?

Unlikely.

He marveled. 

The nerve of this woman. This goddess-barista who served him his soul in a paper cup. Who held the keys to his heart, his home, and presently, his hotel room. Who somehow managed to kick him out of the penthouse suite of his own hotel. 

Within the confines of his ruined dress shirt, Peter felt another buzz. He fumbled with the shirt, reaching the smartphone concealed inside.

>>> have you moved onto the main course? >>> or are you still tossing the salad? >>> pouring ranch on her hidden valley

Felicia. Peter’s eyes nearly rolled out of his head. With a sigh, he tapped out a reply.

<<<  Kitchen’s closed.  <<< Need clothes. And a new room.

He saw the ellipsis bubbling up on his screen. 

<<< Not another word.

As soon as the message was sent, Peter took another glance at his empty surroundings. Haplessly, he looked toward the closed door. A river of memories flooded him. It surged, swelled, and finally, came to a low simmer.

This was never going to be easy. Nothing ever was with her.

Nothing worth waiting for ever is.

“See you at breakfast,” he whispered aloud lips curled into a smile. “Sleep tight.”

Holding her breath and her ear to the door, Honey waited until Peter’s footsteps faded. When she could no longer hear them, she sighed with exasperation, overcome with exhaustion. Eyes falling closed, Honey leaned back against the door, body aching in places she would feel for days.

After taking a moment, she heard a buzzing sound further in the suite. Honey jumped with alarm, then stumbled on Fawn’s feet to reach the source.

Quickly, Honey waddled to the remains of her yellow dress, fishing out the buzzing object: a 10-year-old smartphone with a black glittery hard case. A holographic cat sticker was fixed to the back, shimmering in the dim light. 

Not just any cat.

She unlocked the phone to see the latest message.

>>> how’d it go? u give him hell?

The heaviest exhale left Honey’s chest, shame creeping up her chest. With her thumb, she scrolled up to review the text messages sent to her. The oldest of which dated back almost four months.

Weeks of correspondence and reassurance from Felicia, not to mention very clear instructions about Peter Parker and how to play his game. 

There was the one from last month:

>>> don’t let him think for one second that you’re gonna let him get off easy!

Then one from last week:

>>> make him suffer. make him grovel. make him lay down in a puddle so you can cross

And these:

>>> go to dinner, but don’t eat anything. order wine, the most expensive one, take one sip and refuse the rest. you pick the restaurant. if he picks the restaurant, hate everything about it >>> play hard to get— but don’t be too cold >>> be flirty. but not slutty.  >>> give him bedroom eyes, but don’t let him stare at you too long.

Finally, there was a clear instruction sent earlier today.

>>> under no circumstances >>> no matter what >>> you need to remember this >>> DO NOT FUCK HIM!!1

Honey frowned as she gazed at Felicia’s text message bubble, sent with so much hope and good intention. A notion soundly defeated. A truly hopeless endeavor, if there ever was one.

Biting her lip, Honey tapped out a reply to her confidant:

<<< Sure did.

Thank you for everything you do. Please keep fanfic healthy and support my writing with a reblog.

[the-firebird69]

Sticking your folks this long to figure out how to make a cracker correctly and it's not really there but it's getting there. We don't like how you boil the oil for an hour before frying but it does clean it you are dirty people we'll make you pay for it though

Some things have happened. People realizing that you're a bunch of jerks in the storm was no joke. We need our son in a safe house and you guys were stupid and not allowing it and the others are not trying hard enough so we're stepping in and that's what we're having that guy say. His Papa's announcing it too and then some mamas. Vulgar weak stupid and don't have any of the math right they're going forgot it. There's a war going on below and Tommy f is not losing that badly there's a lot of troops left my son is right you're easily influenced. You thought they were with you got killed today warlock. Your wise asses you stupid you're dumb as hell. That guy is talking to was shocked in the hybrid car the other guy was shocked too, later heard Garth's goth is doing the job telling people what's going on about clones he lives and he's doing it he says I'm a piece of s***. And he agreed that said hey I was doing what you're doing till he started 20 amount he started pointing them out instead of point him out so much you should know what I'm saying you can't talk about it but people have to know you called them Marauders years ago and nobody was talking about it at all. He was in awe got checks someone says no and then there was a fight with a clone and it started up there it's going all over town when you were in the grocery store there's a lot of that going around and they hate these clones they're getting pushed on tunnels yeah with huge forces massive massive forces they don't want them below them it is on too okay they've seen those ships and it is on the foreigners are fighting them and it's never going to stop until there's a decision or the ships are ruined then they fight over diamonds they did a great job and took forever

Thor Freya

That's what a hell of a grand that's one hell of a giant breakwater all right Craig I mean nothing's massive it gets in the sewer in the sewer is not going anywhere globally wow crap that right out it says I have to play a lot more card games with the guys and some of the gals I guess I'll play cards together it's a good idea winner it gets to get me stuff, says it prefer to have me handed to him and tell me who helped me who helped me I think I like that. Also my freaking out something I figured out something not hot and sweaty and it's making me a little bit hot so I think I'll drink something cool now you know what I'm saying. Says I'm very attractive and a lot of women here are not that great I really have their moments they have to hold it and threaten and do all sorts of gross stuff so I'm quiet now. I saw you looking at that job site. Want to take a piece of there look so good it says gross bite my butt lady.

So I wanted to recount the job site walk see if he can tell me about it

Hera

So I guess he's going to tell me and she says yeah he's going to brush his teeth first

Thor Freya

Olympus

It's a smaller lot than the other that is pretty darn big that one's probably 40 acres the other one's probably 70 or 80 maybe more

Thor Freya

[shinobusupremecy]

Hey! I'm glad to find an account about my favorite KNY character! ^^

I had a request : how about a little one shot about Shinobu x GN! Reader, with our dear Insect Hashira feeling a little bit down, and going back to her state after a really tiring mission, only to lie her head on her lover's thighs, hugging them, while they're petting her head? ^^

I hope going back to schoolwork wasn't too hard for^^

Shinobu x gn!reader

A/N: AFOAHW THIS IS SUCH A CUTE REQUEST, I LOVE IT! And no, going back to schoolwork wasn't hard, thankfully^^

Edit:I forgot the tags, DNADOW this post probably looked so weird but at least it’s fixed now. Anyways I’ll add a photo to this later. 

Art source

Another sigh escaped Shinobu's mouth as she walked home to her estate. The sky was dark and everything was quiet. Shinobu was thankful she was finally alloweed to go home but all those missions they really took a toll on her. The entire day, evening and almost nighttime she has been chasing demons left and right. Some were easy to kill and others had some dirty tricks that was even extremely hard for her. There was just so many demons in that area she was in. 

Shinobu just couldn't wait to come home and to you. When she saw her own estate up the distance she wanted to use the last bit of energy she had and run. But she didn't and just walked inside.

"Oh, hello Shinobu, I'm glad you're finally home. Has everything been going well?" Aoi politely greeted as soon as Shinobu came home.

"I'm doing fine Aoi, just very tired. Has everything been going smoothly around here?"

"Yes it has, except Zenitsu disturbing the other patients due to him not wanting to take the medicine. We had to move him to a seperate room" Shinobu shook her head and suppressed a sigh. That boy.

"I'll be going to bed now, you should too" Aoi nodded.

"Goodnight Shinobu"

"Goodnight" She then walked to her room and opened the door only to see you there, sitting on the bed reading a book. 

“Hi Shinobu! Has the mission been going well?” Shinobu only sat beside you and gave you a hug. 

“Tiring mission, hm?” You asked. cupping her cheeks and kissing her forehead, you then began to pet her head, you took out her butterfly pin, letting her hair fall. You ran your fingers through her hair, by the looks of it, Shinobu enjoyed that alot. 

She later let out another sigh and laid on your thigh. 

“You’re so strong, even if these missions take a toll on you, you’re still doing them just for the sake of other peoples safety and that makes me proud of you” You said and kissed her forehead. 

“Y/N are you trying to make me cry?” Shinobu wiped her eyes leading to you doubting if she was joking. 

“Not really” You replied giving her a smile. 

“You’re so cute” She said, raising her head up just to kiss your lips which you gladly returned. 

A/N: I hope the ending wasn’t too abrupt.