#idk i just wanted to write a little something

[always-just-red]

Oh I forgot to add 😭😭😭 be it fluff like jelly sylus but fluff maybe he trying to make the mc jelly too ? I’m going wild with ideas, I will be quiet

(Part 1 of ask) FINALLY finished this fic oh my goshhh I've loved it so much but writer's block was my constant companion for this one 🫠 Thanks for your patience!! Sy is jealous but I'm still pushing my 'Sylus is the softest man alive and would die before hurting MC' agenda, so I had to get a lil creative! Hope I've pulled it off idk 😭😭

Be Mine

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: Sylus is getting a little tired of sharing you with the other men in your life (and he doesn't mean Luke and Kieran 🙃)

Genre: lil bit of angst, comfort and fluff

Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, jealousy, other LIs mentioned, brief allusion to Raf's self-harm tendencies, cheating mentioned, some intimacy & kisses-- more soft than spicy!

| Word count: 4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Sylus has spent centuries waiting for you, so he’s going to give you another minute.

Patience is not a virtue; it’s an old acquaintance he greets with a false smile whenever he’s forced to pass it on the street. Sometimes outside your building, whilst you’re chatting with a neighbour from the apartment above yours. Sometimes when you’re running late from a doctor’s appointment.

Patience has been cropping up a lot these days and gods, he’s sick of its face. Even now, it sits with him at this table for two as he sips at a glass that’s almost empty. There’s poetry in stalling, in savouring what’s left, especially as a waiter hovers anxiously nearby, anticipating the need for yet another refill (it would be the third).

Dregs of blood-red wine swirl with solemnity. Sylus is a patient man, a man who waits, but he doesn’t want to be. He wants the reward of it: the pot of gold at the end of that insipid rainbow. Hasn’t he waited enough?

He lifts his drink to his lips again.

“Sylus!”

They curve as he swallows the final drop.

“I’m so sorry,” you stammer, flinging yourself into the seat across from him so quickly that he’s cheated of the chance to rise and help you with your chair. “Sit back down,” you usher, because he had made a start on it, “really, Sy, I’m so, so sorry. Things at work just got crazy, and I—”

“You don’t have to explain, sweetie,” he smiles as he signals the waiter. He’ll have that refill, now, and he orders your favourite drink as you shrug off your coat and fumble with your bag, looking for something. “I’m more than familiar with the Association’s… dedication to a cause.”

You glance up with an amused smile. “We’re keeping you on your toes, huh?”

“Mmm. There is one hunter who’s proving to be a real thorn in my side.”

“You on top of that?”

“Most evenings, yes. Some mornings, too.”

You poke your tongue out at him. You’ve retrieved a compact mirror and you use it to study your dishevelled reflection. “Is everything all right at work?” he asks as you fuss over your hair.

“Yeah,” you puff. “Long story.”

“We have time.”

With a warmer smile, you stash your mirror away and sequester your bag by your feet. “You sure?” He gives you a look. “Fine,” you chuckle. “Basically, Xavier forgot to write up some reports. He’s been away on an ultra-secret, special mission or whatever—” you tap your nose conspiratorially— “which I didn’t just tell you, okay? But yeah, the reports weren’t done, and they were due tonight, so…”

Sylus raises an apathetic eyebrow. “He asked you to help?”

“Begged me, more like.”

Of course he did. The waiter arrives with your drinks and Sylus has never been gladder for a distraction. His mouth is full of pettiness, bitterness, so he drowns it with wine. You could have called. Texted. “So kitten’s been playing secretary, hmm?” he goads instead.

“That would imply kitten could keep track of time,” you pout, “so no. And speaking of playing a part—” you poke his nose— “you’re allowed to be mad at me. I should have called you. Texted. So let me have it, yeah? I feel bad enough already without you being all… perfect.”

You’re only teasing, but Sylus doesn’t feel perfect. He’s thinking about you working late with your partner, laughing at his jokes, poking him with your pen to keep him from falling asleep on his paperwork. He smirks, regardless. “What if I want you to feel bad?”

“Oh, gods,” you slump forwards, face-down on the table. “How long were you waiting?”

“Years.”

You fake cry into the tablecloth. “Don’t, Sy. Just tell me the truth. How bad was it?”

“Really, years,” he insists again, folding his arms on the table and sliding forwards, too. His chin is resting on his hands, and he blows at the top of your head. “Look.” Your face lifts so you can peer at him. He pinches his hair. “I’ve even gone grey, see?”

You sit up the tiniest bit more and your noses are almost brushing. “It looks nice,” you whisper.

“You think so?”

“Mmm. Suits you.”

Your eyes are every gem— every jewel in an illicit auction Sylus has to steal away from the rest of the world, because something that pretty just has to be his; it will find no worthier home than his hands. His devotion fills vaults. Aren’t they spilling with emeralds, rubies, sapphires, diamonds— those reckless imitations of your gaze? No-one else could deserve them, adore them like he does.

And they’ve nothing on the real thing.

Someone clears their throat and Sylus tracks the noise begrudgingly. The anxious waiter is back, clutching menus this time. You sit up fully, laughing to break the tension, and sure enough, Sylus feels less like hurling the man through the nearest window.

He’s still thinking about it though. He tells the waiter as much with a smile, and the menus are passed over with shaking hands. When Sylus says, “thank you,” it sounds like a bomb, ticking.

“Play nice,” you tut, once the waiter’s cleared the blast radius.

“Sweetie, when do I ever not play nice?”

You blink back at him disbelievingly. This should be good. “How about the time that you—?”

A familiar ringtone interrupts you, and your eyes widen in apology as you grab at your bag, rifling around for your phone. You find it— check the call and decline it— but relief is hiding, refusing to set foot on stage. Not yet, it confers to Sylus darkly, because it knows what comes next.

“Do you need to…?” he asks anyway.

“Nah, it was just Rafayel. Thanks, though.” You set the phone down. “Where was I?”

“You were about to tell me what a terribly bad man I am, sweetie.”

“Right!” you giggle. No, not yet. “So how about the time that you…” The phone rings again. You check it. Decline it. “How about the time that you—ugh!” It’s ringing again.

Sylus taps a finger on the table, impatiently patient. You can’t mute the wretched thing: the next call you miss would be a Wanderer, tearing through an orphanage or the like. It’s the reason you check, even when there’re no orphans at stake— just a pest of an artist with too much time on his hands.

Except… “Oh,” you say, glancing downwards, “it’s Zayne. I should probably—” Sylus gives a half-smile of blessing, but you weren’t waiting around for it— “hey, Zayne! I can’t talk right now, unless— Raf? What the hell? How did you get Zayne’s phone?”

You pull yours away from your ear as a string of whines come through:

“— ignore my calls, don’t even text me to ask what’s up, and then pick up his call right away? You hate me, right? Just say that you hate me, cutie.”

“I don’t hate you, Raf.” The phone is back to your ear. ��I’m busy. Now seriously, how did you get— oh, hi, Zayne. Why is Raf…?” Sylus can hear a deeper voice answering your questions. “He’s at the—? Shit, is he okay? Ugh, tell him I can hear him. Tell him I know he’s not dying.”

You meet Sylus’s eyes as conflict erupts on the other end of the call. Sorry, you mouth as static filters through, interspersed with broken words and curses. The doctor’s voice prevails. “Yeah, Zayne,” you speak back to it. “I’ll call Thomas, get him to pick him up. Mmhmm? Oh!” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I forgot, he’s at that stupid art thing. Look, maybe later, I can…”

The artist’s shrill tone is protesting.

“I know it’s my job, Raf!” you counter. “But gimme a break, please. If it was any other night, you know I’d be there. Of course I wanna be there! But I can’t—”

It’s just a slip of the tongue— words you don’t even realise you’re saying— but Sylus still feels his heart sink. He hates it. A heart is so difficult to argue with: it’s long gone before you can talk any sense into it. He stands from the table, those priceless eyes of yours pursuing him. When you tilt your head, he musters a smile, then a weak excuse: “I’m just stepping outside for a moment.”

You nod, a follow-up question on the tip of your tongue, but then there’s a voice in your ear again— two voices— and you’re you, so of course you listen.

…

Sylus waits on a bench outside the restaurant, closing his eyes as he waits for his heart to come back.

It’s only been a few minutes. He’s thinking about your eyes, your nose and lips— an inch from his— and how he should have closed that gap before it grew treacherous. Shouldn’t he be done with this? This… longing? You’re his. You’ve told him you’re his, over and over again, but he finds himself needing to hear it once more; the ghost of your voice is starting to lack persuasion.

He is yours without exception, but you? There’s always a caveat. I’m yours, Sylus. But only so long as the city is quiet. I’m yours, Sylus. Until someone else calls. The door to the restaurant opens— he can hear it— but he doesn’t open his eyes. He wants to pretend.

I’m yours, Sylus. No caveats. No exceptions.

“Sylus.”

He swallows the dread in his throat.

“I’m sorry,” you entreat softly. His eyes open, and you’re wearing your coat, holding your bag. “I have to run to the hospital— it’s this whole thing. Raf, like, passed out or something. He’s not been eating again. Zayne said when something like this keeps happening, it’s a sign that… yeah. He just… needs someone. And he hasn’t got anyone else, you know?”

“I understand.” You’re worried about your friend. That’s all it is.

Why can’t he believe that’s all it is?  

You come over and sink down on the bench beside him, looping your arm through his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Don’t you know that he’s afraid? That a selfish, spiteful part of him wants to hide you— with the rest of his treasures— away from the light, so he can love you in the dark?

There’s a sigh as you lean against him, savouring his touch like the wine one swirls in a glass when their thoughts are elsewhere. It’s gone in a mouthful; you check your watch, and he hopes it’s bitter.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

No, he would rather be sweet for you, but look at you— making him lie. “I’m okay,” he says, and it doesn’t have a drop of conviction. He’s tired of philanthropy.

…

“What are you gonna do? Come on, tell us. Tell us! What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know, Luke. Give me a second, okay? Jeez.”

You literally just got here. Your pace is brisk and the night air still clings to you— you shed a layer of it by peeling your arms out of your coat. Luke and Kieran are close behind, keeping to your heels like terriers hoping you’ll trip with a plateful of food. They’ll take even a crumb at this point.

“You gonna fight him?” Kieran nudges, but your lips stay tight.

“Oh, you’re so gonna fight him,” Luke takes away from the silence.

You don’t know what you’re going to do. You’ve reached a decadent lounge, lavished with black and gold, and you throw your coat over the arm of a chair before starting to wrestle off your combat boots. You’ve been off work for hours, but it doesn’t feel like it. One call-to-duty after another; first the hospital, now this.

Mephisto caws in greeting from a nearby perch. “I’m not gonna fight him,” you say as your second boot drops with a clunk. “I just need to—”

“Say no more,” Luke cuts you off. “We want in.”

With a tired sigh, you gaze up at the twins at last. Kieran is readying a fist: punching his hand softly, the beak of his mask low and threatening. Beside him, Luke swings a baseball bat over his shoulder. He didn’t have it a second ago. Where did he even—?

You put your hands on your hips. “You guys got a death wish or something?”

“Yes!” they enthuse together, nodding excitedly.

You haven’t got time to ask. Your focus drifts to Sylus’s bedroom door, where music is leaking with honeylike light. You can’t count the number of times you’ve fallen over that threshold, exhausted— always slightly broken. You want to crawl into cool silk sheets and a warmer embrace, but there’s one small problem.

The text that had brought you here, anxious and out of breath:

Boss is with someone.

“What’re you thinking?”

You’re closer to the door, now, and Luke’s whisper makes you jump. You spin, twisting the bat from his fingers and pushing him back until the tip is pressed to his throat. “Get back,” you hiss, before levelling the weapon at an encroaching Kieran, “both of you.”

Luke leaps behind his brother— swinging him between you for protection. The baseball bat stays hovering, and Luke peeks over Kieran’s shoulder, swatting at it like an indignant kitten.

“Stop it,” you scold, poking back at his hand and his masked face. “Begone!”

“Yes, boss!” Kieran goes to move, but Luke is holding him in place. He’s dragged backwards: a human shield until they can both scurry around the turn of a corridor.

You smile fondly. You forget, for just a moment, that you’re alone and full of uncertainty. The song in the next room lulls, at its inevitable end, and then you can’t forget. You’re stood in silence, staring at a door you’ve never had to knock before. Another song starts up.

Whatever this is, you can handle it.

You use the baseball bat to tap against the dark wood. “Sylus?” you call.

He makes you wait. You can hear him, moving around— unmistakably taking his time— but you don’t mind. You’re running scenarios through your head. Is he in on this, too? Or…?

He opens the door and oh, he definitely is. His silk robe hangs haphazardly over his figure, one side threatening to slip from his shoulder and the belt dangerously loose at the middle. A flush is tinting his face, spreading down through his neck, past his collarbone and lower, you think, but you’re trying not to look.

“Sweetie,” he purrs in the way that tells you he’s up to no good, “what a pleasant surprise.” His eyes flit downwards. “And you’re armed, too.”

There’s a breathlessness to the observation, and your ability to breathe briefly eludes you as well. His hair is damp and unkempt, his skin warm, his gaze hot. Is this a test? It feels like a test.

“Are you alone?” you snap, because he’s clearly put some thought into whatever it is, and you’re a good sport, so you’ll play along.

“No,” he says, but then: “You know you’re always with me in spirit, kitten. Even if not in—” another downwards glance— “body.”

“Sylus.”

“Mmm?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time.” You catch his chin with your free hand, forcing his gaze back to your face. “And I want a real answer.” He swallows thickly. “Are you alone?”

His submission is fragile. He lifts his hand, wraps his fingers around your wrist like a reminder of the fact. “Careful, sweetie.” His grip tightens as his voice drops. “Think about what you’re asking.”

“I know what I’m asking.” You snatch your hand free and step closer. “Get out of my way.”

Sylus narrows his eyes, but soon relaxes. He sweeps a hand through his hair, chuckling as he obeys— moving aside to let you past. You storm through, looking over every visible inch of his room. There’s nothing to see, of course. No clothes that aren’t yours pooled over the floor. No lover wrapped up in his bedsheets.

“Just what exactly are you looking for?” he asks smugly behind you.

“Save it, Sylus.” Your pretend patience is gone. “The twins told me everything.”

So you start searching more strenuously. You make your way over to his bed, baseball bat slung over your shoulder as you check behind the far side— even stooping to peek under it. You open the wardrobe. Nothing. Use the baseball bat to push back the curtains, letting in more blood-red moonlight. Nothing. You huff in frustration.

“You know, don’t you?” Sylus says quietly.

He’s leant against the doorway, arms crossed, and you spare him a glance. “Know what?”  

“That there’s no-one here.”

It sounds like defeat. “I’m taking this very seriously, actually,” you dismiss as you roll open the drawer of his bedside table, where no-one is hiding. You move on to even more absurd places: lifting flowers out of their vase to glance about inside it, peering into the horn of his vintage gramophone.

You’d hoped your antics would elicit at least a short laugh, or a scoff of amusement. There’s nothing, though, so you plonk onto the bed— defeated, yourself— and look to the man as you set your weapon down.

He looks back with an insincere smile. “How did you know?”

“That you weren’t really with someone? Because you’re you, Sylus. The key to a good prank?” Your fingers twinkle in the air beside your head. “Believability. Besides—” now a forefinger taps at your temple— “nothing gets past this.”

“Your ego?” he guesses with a smirk that is sincere, if nothing else.

“My brain, Sy.”

“Ah.”

Your ego— tsk. Your feet are dangling from the bed, playing with a slipper they’ve fished out from underneath it, and you have half a mind to launch it at him. This doesn’t feel like one of your usual games, though, and you’ve had a whole ride through the N109 Zone to figure out why.

“I really hurt you, didn’t I?” you speak like a confession, staring down at the floor so you don’t have to meet his eyes. “That’s what all this is about, right? You wanted to get back at me for dinner?”

“No, I—”

“I get it.” Your feet find the second slipper. “I do. I mean, it was a really shitty thing to do— walking out on you like that. Especially after you waited for me. You went to all that effort, and I— ah.” You’ve toed one of the slippers out of reach.

“Allow me,” comes a voice that’s suddenly close. Sylus’s figure looms over you before he’s crouching, kneeling by your feet. He still looks like a mess of sin, but he’s gentle as he retrieves the slipper for you. Removes your socks for you. Slides a slipper onto each of your cold feet. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he mutters.

You let out a sigh. “Sylus.” You’re scolding him, and he gazes up at you, his eyes garnets of adoration only you could afford. “You can tell me anything, you know.”

“I know, sweetie.”

“So why won’t you tell me how you feel?”

He sits back on his knees, his thumb drawing circles on the inside of your ankle. The ministrations are mindless, and so are his words: “How I feel is not important.”

“Of course it is!” You pull away from him. “Don’t say things like that.”

“But I thought I could tell you anything, kitten.”

It’s a nick from a blade that could do much worse; he wants you to feel how sharp it is. His smile is a warning and he’s waiting for the hunter in you to strike back, because violence is what you’re good at. What you’re both good at. It hurts, but it’s easy.

You shift forward on the bed. “Sylus… you don’t need to protect me. Not from you. Not from anything you feel. I want you to be happy, to tell me if you’re unhappy. I don’t need you to—” your fingers skirt over his chest and you falter inexplicably— “to sacrifice yourself for me.”

Sylus looks down to where you’re tracing the shape of his heart on his skin. He lets out a long, beleaguered breath, then leans closer to you, his head turning away as he settles it on your lap. Your hands find his hair instinctually, threading through it in slow, meandering motions.

“I want you to be mine,” he admits on another sigh.

He can’t see you smile, but he’ll hear it in your voice: “I am yours, Sy—”

“No— just mine.”

He won’t make it a demand. Even asking you nicely has him breathless and still, like the drawn-out pause of a finished symphony. Your hands stop moving, out of respect for the quiet. You’re remembering the times you’ve been late out of your building because you’d stumbled into Xavier in the lobby. The doctor’s appointments that always overrun, and Rafayel’s ‘emergency’ phone calls.

“Come and sit with me,” you mumble, patting the bed beside you.

When Sylus does, it’s with the same reluctance a cat surrenders a sliver of sun. Lazy and listless— still warm from the light. The bed sinks under his weight and you turn to face him. His robe’s collar has fallen further, so you hook a finger under it to draw it back up to his neck. Then you straighten the lapels, smoothing them over distractedly.

He’s watching your face, not the movements of your hands. Your cheeks feel warm. “I was speaking to Rafayel earlier, and we—”

A groan, and Sylus is no longer at your fingertips; he’s flopped down backwards on the bed, his hand over his face. You can’t help giggling— you’ve broken the big, bad boss of Onychinus, it seems. Is that all it takes? You grin as you lie down with him, settling on your side, propped up on an elbow. He doesn’t stir when you fix a few stray strands of his hair.

“We talked about boundaries,” you continue. “How I can’t be on call twenty-four seven, and how he’s going to take better care of himself, so I don’t have to be.”

Sylus has moved his hand, ever so slightly.

There’s more: “I’m gonna call in sick to work tomorrow. I made a deal with Xavier, that’s why I stayed late today. He’ll cover for me.” You shift closer. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I know I can’t always be with you, but I am always thinking of you, I promise. You’re always with me in spirit, Sy, even if not in—” you press a quick kiss to his chest— “body.”

He chuckles at the words, or maybe the touch tickled.

You grin down at him. “I’m yours. Say it.”

“I’m yours.”

“No! Ugh, just—” Smart-ass! You flick his forehead as he laughs quietly. “Not the words ‘I’m yours’, say that I’m—”

His hand is at your face, pulling you in so he can kiss you. It’s slow and it’s patient; he’s taking his time, and you won’t slip away. You can feel his smile. “You’re mine,” he murmurs when he finally withdraws. One more kiss, lighter, on the tip of your nose. “Just mine.”

Always. You let him pull you into an embrace, snuggling into his warmth like you’ve been wanting to from the moment you last left it. You can hear his heartbeat beneath the lullaby of his breath. “Sy?” you whisper.

“Hmm?”

“You look really hot when you’re pretending to cheat on me.”

He scoffs, but a yawn comes before his response. “Don’t get any ideas, kitten.”

Your quiet is pensive. “I have this lunch with Zayne later this week. I really should text him to find out—”

The grip around you constricts, and a voice is in your ear, soft and possessive:

“What did I just say?”

[meanbossart]

So I've noticed you've been getting a lot of asks along the lines of "how do I make good porn like you?" and I just thought to add in my two cents, and if you agree with what I'm saying perhaps you could publish this and it might help others, if not feel free to just ignore xD

So first of all the fact that you're also a horror/gore artist adds to your skill, there's a lot of overlap between erotisim and horror in artwork because it involves being extremly familiar with anatomy and how the body moves, and in art, like a lot of things, you needs to know how something works before you know how to break it.

People also really don't appreciate how difficult horror is as a genre, it's not enough to draw someone covered in blood holding a knife, it's mood and lighting and expression, and these are also transferable skills to erotica as so much of what sells an image as erotic is everything happening around the people involved. Colour choices, the lines around the eyes, how you depict the shine of their sweat and saliva, all these little things are part of the greater whole.

Finally, I think when it comes to improving your craft when it comes to depicting erotica is that you have to make peace with the fact that the physical act of sex is wierd and gross when you look at it objectivly. You're in wierd, undignified positions, there's a lot of mucus involved, you're sweaty and red-faced, and if you're looking at it without your brain swimming in sexy hormones it's just kinda rediculous. I think once you get over that hump of "no, I have to try and make this as pretty and aesetic as possible" and reach "okay, sex is wierd and ugly IRL" you're able to start creating things that feel more real and seemingly paradoxically become able to create things that people find arousing, because it reads as 'true' to them.

Your art is beautiful and erotic because I can believe that these guys are sticky, covered in sweat and working hard to bring each other pleasure.

Like, IDK that's how I ended up being a fairly decent erotica author, you let go of the dreamy hollywood version of sex and embrace something a bit dirtier and closer to life. If you draw enough silly 'O' faces you'll eventually find one you like!

Anyway, I hope someone finds this helpful. Also the picture of Astarion with Cazador's skull is my new favourite, the way he's pushing his thumb into the eye as the head burns in the sunlight and the blood drips down is just... so powerful, I wanna print it out and stick it in my BG3 scrap folder xD

A really useful breakdown of what makes compelling erotica and/or effective pornography!

Not a disagreement perse, but I just want to clarify to anyone reading this that being familiar with horror and gory art isn't a necessary step in this process - it just so happens to have a lot of skill-overlap, like eyesofthrone said, making the transition from one to the other easier.

Thank you for doing this write-up, and I'm extremely flattered if you or anyone reading this finds my saucy art especially compelling for any of these reasons!

[creolefatu]

Crash Out

***After thinking you were out with another man, Joshua confronts you only to realize he’s trippin***

This is my first time writing like this please be kind lol hope you enjoy

SO YOU REALLY OUT HERE TRYNNA MAKE A NIGGA LOOK DUMB! the voice on the other end of the phone was Joshua, of course. Over reacting as usual. What did I do now?! I thought as he continued to rant.

Josh idk what you’re talkin about, I’ve been home all day! You always callin with some bs. I responded. When he gets like this it does annoy a small part of me, but damn hearing him all fired up like that made my pussy jump and drip.

So now John just lyin on you? So you callin my brotha a liar now! He ain’t got no reason to lie on you Y/N!

Wtf yo messy ass brotha said now? I swear he always got some dumb shit to say and hear you go blowin my phone up with the bullshit Josh!

Dating a twin is not for the weak! If I’m not caught up in their pranks then it’s their drama or pettiness!

So you ass wasn’t in the mall all hugged up with some nigga in Nike? Cause that what my bro said he saw!

Josh listen to yourself! Do you fuckin hear how you sound? Why in the fuck would I be out in public with another man if ima play you? Especially knowing you have eyes everywhere?! And stop all that damn yellin before I hang up!

You gone hang up on me?! Bet!

I could feel the vibrations through the phone of the low growl in his voice when he said it

Bet!

**boop boop boop** was the next sound Josh heard cause I surely did hang up

Walking around my house in a XXL YEET shirt I heard the familiar sound of a truck engine in my driveway.

Y/N OPEN THIS DAMN DOOR RIGHT NOW GIRL!

He was so damn sexy when he was mad 💦

Josh stop banging on my door like that! You’re gonna break it!

Then open it tf up!

He hit the door again this time I heard the frame crack a little

Ok ok ok just stop beating on my shit!

Josh came in looking around before his eyes settled on me

Bae calm tf down! Look at you, you all swole in the chest!

I’m telling you right now y/k if you lyin to me I swear…

Bae look around… I been here in yo shirt all day taking a lazy day.

You’re right I see the ice cream on the counter, the blankets and the movie goin, it’s just John called said he thought he saw you and I lost it! Idk what I’d do if I ever lost you. Just the thought drives me crazy

I grab his face in both hands, he grabbed my wrist and kisses the palm of my right hand.

You know it does something to me when you get like that bae

I’ll crash out any time, any place over you, and over this

He reached bw my legs and lightly grazed my clit

Damn! You ain’t got on no draws for big daddy Jey?! Let me see!

He lifted my shirt off and began to kiss my neck as he slid his hand below my waist and found my soft pussy lips soaked.

You wet for me too, you like when I get like that over you. You my nasty freak

I’m in heaven, his warm kisses on my neck , his thick fingers working their way into my tight wet pussy, finding my g spot and applying pressure. I wrapped both arms around his neck as my legs begin to give way to the pleasure. He walked me back against the wall and never missed a beat. Fingers stroking me, moving in and out to the rhythm of my heart beat. I could barely breathe

This my pussy? Tell me it’s my pussy.

Yes! It’s your pussy baby! It’s daddy Jey’s pussy

Josh pulled his fingers out and sucked my juices off, then pushed them into my mouth to give me a taste.

I want you to taste why I’m ready to crash out behind you bae

His big hands gripped my thighs and lifted me up, I wrapped my legs around his muscular waist. He pulled his pants down and I could feel his 8in dick pop up and slap my ass.

You feel that? You got me feeling like this

Put it in, please I need to feel you in me

He grabbed the shaft and begin slapping my pussy with the head of his dick. It made me absolutely feral! I begin to grind my pussy against him as he continued to tease me. My pussy dripping with anticipation. Then I felt him press his body against mine as he pushed his thick head into me. I gasped… it was what I was begging for. My pussy gripped every inch as he slowly entered me. Once fully in he griped my thighs to hold me up against the wall. The strokes started off slow, moving his hips in a circular motion. Sending me into another dimension.

This what I been needing. When I’m in you, I know you all mine he whispered into my ear.

I could feel every stroke grow stronger, I clawed shoulders as I was looking to readjust my grip on him. The sound of skin smackin and macaroni filled the air, I gasped as he sped up his pace. I could feel him throbbing in me as he grew harder. The growl he made as he pushed deep into me made me even wetter.

You like how I handle that pussy baby?

Mmhm was all I could say. I couldn’t even talk he had me so gone from the dick.

You gone cum for big daddy Jey? He didn’t have ro say no more. I was already there. But he already knew that. This man knew my body like that back of his hand.

Mmmmhm ahhh fuck! You strokin me so good bae

My body begin to shake and my pussy squeezed his dick and I begin the have the best orgasm anyone has ever given me.

Damn baby you bout to make me cum with you

He pressed me harder against the wall and he bottomed out inside of me. He let out a primal growl that made me want a round 2 immediately. Still holding me up he kissed me wildly and passionately. He lowers me to the floor and we both collapsed into each other arms and onto the couch. As I lay on his chest listening to his heart beat he held me tightly and whispered.

Yeah I’ll crash out a million times a day behind that lil pussy.

And I’ll do the same behind that dick

THE END

[muhlsworld]

CRUSHES

pairing: caitlin clark x fem!reader

synopsis: you thought caitlin didn’t reciprocate your feelings

WARNINGS: angst if you squint and idk what else

you and caitlin had been best friends since your freshmen year in high school. you guys did everything together. whether it was studying together or going on family trips together. you guys were always together. that’s what best friends did right?

she was even the first person you told when you realized you liked girls. and of course she was nothing but supportive.

you both had even decided to go to the university of iowa together.

so here you both are now, your sophomore year at iowa. caitlin had become sort of popular considering her skills but she never left you behind. she still had been glued to your side.

and you had never thought about caitlin as more than a friend but one day during your sophomore year one of the men’s basketball players, connor mccaffery, took and interest in caitlin. and you had this pent up jealousy and you didn’t know why. that was until you came to terms that maybe your feelings for caitlin weren’t just platonic.

you thought caitlin would put a stop to his flirting the second he came up to you guys during a party but she didn’t. she practically encouraged the flirting. and that made you sick to your stomach.

you hadn’t talked to caitlin in about a week. after the party you were trying to come to terms that caitlin doesn’t have the same feelings that you have for her. so you decided give yourself some space from her.

caitlin had noticed that you hadn’t talked to her as much. and she thought you were mad at her but she didn’t know why. she had been going out with connor for the past week.

she didn’t like him or have interest in him but she liked the attention. the image that it gave her. so she continued to talk to him even though he wasn’t the one she wanted. the one she wanted wasn’t even speaking to her. but she paid no mind to it thinking that you wouldn’t like her like that anyway.

it had been a few more days and you still hadn’t talked to caitlin. and she grew tired of it. she wanted to know why you were so upset with her. so here she was now at your dorm knocking on the door.

you open the door and your heart stopped a little. “hi.” caitlin’s simply said. “hi caitlin.” you said as you opened the door and stepped to the side letting her in.

“are you mad at me?” caitlin asked softly and avoiding your eyes. “what caitlin? why would i be at you?” you said softly as well. “you just haven’t been talking to and i thought i did something.” she said now looking at you.

the eye contact itself was enough to make you want to confess your feelings for her but you couldn’t. you knew she liked connor. and you didn’t want to ruin your relationship with her.

“no caitlin you didn’t do anything.” you said staring right back at her. “then why aren’t you talking to me?” she said. and before you could answer she spoke again “and don’t be all dismissive with me. i’m not leaving until you give me the real answer.” she said sternly.

you knew she wasn’t going to let this go. but was this really how you wanted to tell her? no. but you were going to anyway.

“i was jealous.” you said quietly. caitlin looked confused because she didn’t know what you were talking about. “about what?” she asked. “connor.” you said almost immediately.

and then it clicked in caitlin’s head. she smirked slightly but you didn’t catch that. “so you like me?” she said cockily. “look i don’t want this to ruin what we have so-“ you were cutoff as she placed a quick peck to your lips.

“you’re not going to ruin anything.” caitlin said.

“oh.” you said with a slight smile.

A/N: this is my first time writing for caitlin so if you want more just send in some requests 🙏

[ysabelyaps]

Piercing My Heart

⇠✧❀✧⇢

Summary: Se-Mi is your girlfriend and has been begging you to let her pierce you. So for your 2 year anniversary, you decide you’ll finally let her.

Genre: Fluff

Warning: A very sleepy Ysa’s writings

A/N: Guys idek where I’m going with this. Also I hate English, I wish it was my first language bro. Shit would be much easier 💔

⇠✧❀✧⇢

“Happy anniversary my love!!” Is the first noise you hear today, it’s like 7 in the morning on a Saturday. Why is Se-Mi awake at 7 on a Saturday?

“Uh- happy anniversary.. and good morning..” you yawned, it was too early for this. “..why are you up so early..?”

Se-Mi gave you a cheeky grin, one that concerns you as it typically means she’s up to something, but you also love that grin so much. You think it’s adorable.

“Remember how you said I can pierce you today?” shit. You forgot about that. You weren’t going to back out, but why at 7 am? And why is she looking at you like that.

“Yeah..?”

“I’m giving you two options, unless you wanna back out. Another ear piercing, or a belly button piercing. Personally, I think both would look super hot but all up to you. You look pretty now too if you wanna back out”

⇠✧❀✧⇢

For some reason you told Se-Mi you didn’t care and to do what she wanted, was it the sleepiness? Probably. To be completely honest, you were terrified. You got your first ear piercing when you were a baby so you don’t remember it, and you were scared it was going to hurt.

Anyways, she decided to do both, the second ear piercing and a belly button piercing. Would you regret this in the future? Possibly. But anything to make Se-Mi happy.

“Se-Mi if these get infected I swear to god.”

“Yeah yeah I know silly. It wont get infected.” You were holding onto a pillow as you laid on the couch, looking up at her as she prepped her tools or whatever. (Idk what the thingy is)

“Do you know what you’re doing?” She gave you a look. Is that a yes? Finally she was done prepping, “ready?”

“Yeah. Wait- no. Well. No yes. Actually-”

Se-Mi just sat there patiently while she waited for you to figure out what you wanted. She was so patient with you it was so sweet, you loved it so much.

“Okay yes. Is it going to hurt?”

“Just hug the pillow sweetheart.” Se-Mi said as she leaned in towards your ear.

“But what if-“ and you feel a sharp pain in your ear, not that it was too painful but still there. “Ow..”

“You okay?” Se-Mi backed away, looking at you.

“Uh.. yeah. Just hurt a little.”

“If it’s too much I can stop” you shook your head. You promised her she could do this and she was really excited. You trusted her. It would just be a few quick pokes and then you’d be done.

⇠✧❀✧⇢

So, those few pokes resulted in you crying and Se-Mi hugging you. She felt bad even though you insisted it was fine between tears. You just happened to have a very low pain tolerance.

Now you guys were cuddling on the couch with a blanket over the two of you as you were falling asleep again, for a nap. You loved naps. Se-Mi loved watching you nap in the least weirdest way possible.

“Happy anniversary Se-Mi.. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[iiheartarc]

MY TAKE ON THE CAITVI DISCOURSE

total wordcount: 1591

I will say that I've briefly commented on their dynamic in the past, but it was worded really badly so I feel like I need to defend my writing skills a little bit as well with this, but that's just a sidenote. 💀

I think what a lot of people are missing when people do criticise CaitVi is that they aren't necessarily hating on the ship, it's what writing choices have done to it.

I'm not even going to even say I'm a CaitVi hater, I'm not (S1 CaitVi my beloved, you deserved better), but I do think the choices that writers made this season heavily effected how audiences portrayed the ship, even including myself.

Idk I hope this insight might give some people more perspective on why CaitVi became so hated in this season, people rlly need to start looking at both sides and not taking criticism as a personal attack. It really could've been avoided too if the writers had added more time or extended the series onto a third season, but that's another issue on its own.

1. Caitlyn hits Vi

I really don't get why people are so quick to defend Caitlyn on this one, especially considering the amount of hate Vi got when she hit Powder. Are both inexcusable? Yes. But I do think that the situation is a little different when it's a fifteen year old child who had just witnessed the death of her entire family and a twenty something year old woman who took out her anger and grief on the woman she loved because she blocked her shot.

I do think that people also do ignore the immense amount of trauma that Caitlyn suffered at the hand of Jinx, but unlike when Vi 'abandoned' Powder, (again, that's a whole other conversation, we know she was not abandoned), Vi was not that direct source of anguish to Caitlyn the way Powder was to Vi. (Pls lmk if you want me to expand further on this)

Again, not excusing Vi hitting Powder, I'm pointing out the differences.

It's then also incredibly tone deaf when Caitlyn hits her on two more occasions with the same gun, the third time being played off as a joke. It really doesn't come off well, especially when Vi had been a victim of police-brutality even before the abuse she faced at the hands of the enforcers in Stillwater.

And then, even after all this, it's never addressed. It's brushed over, like Vi's entire trauma in the show, the most we get is Caitlyn brushing her hand over Vi's abdomen in the cell scene. Again, can be taken as an apology, but I think that for some very specific things (like hitting your romantic partner), verbal apologies do need to be made in order to communicate healthily and somewhat build a healthier relationship.

I don't really want to talk about the abusive implications of this, because I don't think I'm someone who can talk about it with a full understanding because that's something I've fortunately never been through, but the blatant disregard and shunning of abuse survivors when they pull up the red flags raised because of this is disgusting. In real life, or if it had even been someone else in the show, if the ship had been a heterosexual relationship, people would call Caitlyn an abuser and would be outraged that Vi had been paired with her in the end. But I digress.

1. The cell sex scene

Initially I hadn't been too bothered about this when I had first watched the episode, but when you really think about it, it shouldn't have happened. Hell, they could've had sex in Caitlyn's office and half of the criticism wouldn't have happened, the ship wouldn't be so hated and the fandom wouldn't be half as divided as it is now (from what I've seen).

First and foremost, the cell.

All I can say is wtf. It was such a poor choice it's actually unfathomable to me now. I don't know why the writers thought that it'd be a good idea for Caitlyn and Vi to have their first time in a jail cell, not only the one Jinx had been locked in, but the one Vi had herself been locked in for what we can assume to be hours. The place of her abuse should not be somewhere where the writers could possibly think would be a suitable for a victim to have such an intimate moment with her partner.

Then there's the fact that Vi had looked to have had some sort of breakdown, we see she's sh and there are literal crates in the wall from where she punched it as well as her knuckles bleeding. As soon as she sees Caitlyn, there's a parallel to when they first met, to when Vi is quite literally caged. She's clearly not in the right state of mind, and so when the scene eventually happens it inevitably comes off as wrong because Vi is incredibly emotionally vulnerable in that moment.

"But Vi initiated it!" That still doesn't make it okay. I do think that this also came with an issue of timing, but then again, as I mentioned earlier, it literally could've been in the office as they argued and it would've been recieved so much better then the cell scene was. Vi wasn't breaking down, she wasn't locked in a reminder of the abuse she faced and her sister hadn't just ran off to do goodness knows what (in Vi's POV, us as the audience know exactly what she's about to do). They could've even have it fade to black and cut to the next scene tangled in bed doing whatever they would've been doing in the cell, Vi would assumably have had time to calm down, would be having sex in a warm and safe environment, and guess what? The audience would've been even happier.

Sure there would've been criticism, but Vi could literally save a thousand babies and adopt them all and still face hate, because a lot of the hate is being directed to Vi too because of the situation with Jinx. That, again, is a whole other situation.

3. "Dirt Under Your Nails"

Again, for the love of god, there can be so many takeaways from this sentence but do not be surprised that people didn't like it. I didn't, it made me cringe horribly.

And before people throw 'media literacy is dead', this whole post (practically essay), is analysing a piece of media that I love. To be literate, you can draw different interpretations and conclusions and that's exactly what I'm doing. It's like saying literacy is dead if two people were to disagree on what the meaning of Macbeth's quote 'I am in blood' meant.

I digress.

I think the main issue here is the class difference between Vi and Cait. Caitlyn is from the aristocracy, a direct heir to a position of power in Piltover, while Vi is lower class, effected indefinitely by growing up in poverty. Even though she grew up as Vander's kid, they were still 'scraping for scraps'. The wealth margin between the two is almost immeasurable, and with the difference in money comes a difference in experiences, as we - the audiences - know.

It especially comes off wrong considering the class tensions and political themes heavily focussed on within the first season. The conflict between Piltover and Zaun, the abuse of power and exploitation of Zaunites by both topside and the chembarons, the prevalence of police brutality on the streets of the Undercity. Again, Vi is someone who is directly effected by this, while Caitlyn came into this blissfully naïve. She did learn yes, and in s1 she was so determined to help, but when then this progress reverts into her calling zaunites 'animals' and using the grey as a weapon, it again makes Vi's words feel uncomfortable.

Again, I think this was a massive timing issue, I would've love to see Caitlyn succumb fully to a villain arc. It would've been so interesting to delve into.

I think Vi has always had the image of herself that she'll always be viewed as less by Piltover, that she herself views herself as less. She says it herself to Vander in s1 ep2 while they're on the bridge, "I grew up knowing I'm less than them." So when she then says as her final words in the show, "I'm the dirt under your nails" obviously, that's going to come across as tacky.

People are free to think of romantic connotations for this, I won't stop you, but when you think about how the show was so focussed on class tensions, police brutality, oppression and exploitation, it doesn't come off right. Idk, that's what got me so interested with the show in the first place, the way these themes were explored so deeply but subtly in a way that didn't feel forced, so Vi's words really rubbed me the wrong way.

Conclusion

So I hope everyone that read somewhat gets where I'm coming from, this was my attempt to try and explain what I think needed to be, badly. Again, you can like the ship, I'm not saying I don't, but it also needs to be acknowledged that there is so many things that could've been worked on properly, done properly or addressed properly, and ignoring criticism won't help these issues to be fixed in the future.

Feel free to ask any questions and thanks for reading this long ass rant :)

[daenerys-apolog1st]

I'm gonna be so serious right now, every time I see someone from Team Green say that the show- "favors team black" -I just wanna ask what fucking show they're watching and if they can send it to me.

This ridiculous show has taken like 75% of the shit that happens in the books and either changed it or completely omitted it, all to either make TG seem more sympathetic or TB look bad.

Want some examples?

----------

In the books, Rhaenyra's sons' legitimacy was questioned, but in all likelihood they were 100% legitimate and the "bastard" rumors were mainly spread/believed by TG and their supporters---Rhaenys even had "dark" hair just like Rhaenyra's sons and, if I remember correctly, Aemma's appearance wasn't described but she had Arryn blood which would lend to the boys' dark hair as well.

In the show, they made her sons definitively bastards (at least by blood) and took away how Rhaenys looked in the book, making her have the stereotypical Targaryen features just to make Rhaenyra look stupid I guess.

In the books, Alicent Hightower was 18 years old and willingly went after Viserys because she---like her father---wanted power and wanted her blood on the throne. Viserys, at the time, was like 27 if I remember correctly.

In the show, Alicent is about 15 and is forced by her father to go after Viserys, who seems to be of about 40-50 years of age.

In the books, Alicent Hightower---a grown woman---had beef with an 8 year old little girl for no reason other than the fact that Viserys wouldn't write her off as heir in order to favor her son.

In the show, Alicent hates Rhaenyra because of childhood best friend drama---they made her and Rhaenyra the same age---and the fact that Rhaenyra didn't tell her about having a one night stand, betrayal yada yada, plus jealousy because Rhaenyra is "free" and Alicent "isn't" (even though they have similar power at the time as queen and princess, Rhaenyra just actually utilizes it).

In the books, Alicent has 0 remorse for Rhaenyra's sons dying and TG quite literally throws a party after Aemond kills Lucerys.

In the show, Alicent sends letters to Rhaenyra apologizing for his death and Aemond killing Luce was apparently an "accident" that he kinda feels bad for.

In the books, Alicent Hightower 100% supported usurping Rhaenyra and did it knowingly---she didn't give a fuck about Viserys wishes, her father didn't do jack shit, she just wanted her son on the throne and put him there.

In the show, apparently Alicent was "manipulated" into the usurpation by her father and really thought that Viserys wanted Aegon as heir---his dying wish or whatever---and she thought all the usurpation talk was just...idk a joke or something- (even though this retcon literally goes against what was established in S1).

In the books, Rhaenyra was said to always be dressed in jewels and fine fabrics, remembered for her beauty and how she adorned herself. Rhaenyra was also said to have had multiple ladies in waiting that she was close friends with, including Laena Velaryon and Harwin Strong's sisters.

In the show, Rhaenyra tends to be dressed in plainer or just downright ugly clothes and her femininity is stripped away, meanwhile Alicent Hightower is the one the showrunners decided to give the beautiful detailed gowns to and they allowed her to be feminine. Also all of Rhaenyra's female friendships were removed and tossed in the trashcan so that Alicent was her only friend.

In the books, Daemon really did love Laena as well as Baela and Rhaena. Daemon fought for Laena's hand and literally begged Viserys to let him present his daughters at court.

In the show, Daemon doesn't give a fuck about Laena or his daughters and the few scenes that were filmed that show Daemon being a loving husband/father got cut.

In the books, Rhaenyra, Daemon, and Laena were basically a throuple---they were said to visit each other often, fly their dragons together, and as soon as Rhaenyra heard that Laena was in childbirth she flew all the way to Driftmark to attend to her. After Laena's death both Daemon and Rhaenyra were heartbroken, with Rhaenyra even sitting vigil at Laena's bedside.

In the show, Rhaenyra's relationship with Laena is completely erased. Daemon and Rhaenyra fuck at her funeral.

In the books, Rhaenys is Rhaenyra's number 1 defender and is immediately ready to go to war for her birthright because she understands how she feels and still feels robbed of her own birthright.

In the show, Rhaenys has beef with Rhaenyra when she's a child, criticizes her for going to war when she's older, and only seems like mildly annoyed about not being queen.

In the books, Jeyne Arryn 100% supports Rhaenyra because 1. Arryn on her mothers side and 2. because women need to stick together in this "world of men." Rhaenyra also has support from the majority of the houses and the smallfolk, all said to have marched even after her death to "fight for Viserys' little girl."

In the show, Jeyne Arryn doesn't give a fuck about Rhaenyra and the other houses don't seem to either, Rhaenyra's title as the "Realm's Delight" is apparently just bullshit I guess.

----------

I could go on, but y'all get the point.

The idea that this bullshit "favors Team Black" is ridiculous, and do you wanna know the worst part? They're not even writing the changes well. I think I'd take the changes better if the show were actually written well and fully leaned into them, but instead they're just throwing around half-baked ideas and even going back on things that they already established in their own show!

I mean Alicent was 100% down with usurpation in S1, but in S2 apparently she didn't know? Be so fucking serious 💀

This show is just trying to make money off of some stupid- "choose your side" -marketing scheme and the writing is suffering for it, plus it's just changing the story into something completely different. If they wanted to change it this much then they should've just made an original show or something, because this is getting ridiculous.

[bluemusickid]

ᥫ᭡. ⋆. 𐙚 ˚In The Key of Sin ᥫ᭡. ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

🎀Pairing🎀: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader, Joel Miller x Original Character

🎀A/N🎀: Okkkkk so I had this teeeensy idea brewing since quite some time. It's a bit different from what I normally write, I shall admit. But idk, it's been at the back of my mind since a looooong time. Now this may be a bit OOC for the JM we love and cherish, both HBO and Game versions. But oh well, when my muse strikes, she does so with a vengeance. Also, special thanks to @slimybeth69 , I got this idea after I read a certain chapter of Que Sera Sera (which is an AMAZING story and omfg you guys need to read it LIKE NOW)

🎀Warnings🎀: smut, nsfw, 18+, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (don't be silly wrap your willy), slightt infidelity (yea ik but trust the process), explicit sex, degradation, (mild) voyeurism, breeding kink, minors DNI.

18+ blog, Minors not welcome, you are responsible for your own media consumption. Not beta'ed, any mistakes, grammatical or otherwise are all mine. I post my stuff only on Tumblr and AO3, and occasionally Wattpad. I do not give anyone permission to reproduce, copy or translate my work in any form of media, including but not limited to AI chatbots. If you are found doing so, trust me, I will put my law degree to good use. Likes are welcome, reblogs are much appreciated!

Tiring. That was all that you could describe this day as. Work had been hectic, challenging and had pushed you to the limits of your sanity. All you wanted to do was kick off your shoes, maybe have a beer or two, and snuggle with your husband, watching trashy reality TV; listening to him grumble about how stupid everyone in said show was.

With that thought perking you up a little, you walked into your house, your calves killing you. Surely the person who invented heels is burning in hell right now; you thought to yourself. Dropping your bag unceremoniously on the couch, you took off your shoes and your jacket, making your way to the refrigerator as you pulled out a can of beer, the chilled beverage sliding down your throat, calming down your nerves. Perfect. Just as you were about to take another sip, you heard a muffled groan. Weird. Chalking it up to the random noises old houses often made, you shrugged it off.

But then it happened again. As you stood there, you heard a moan again, loud and clear this time. Hmm, that's strange. Joel said he wouldn't be home this early. Maybe it was the wind or a raccoon or something.

You were about to call out his name when you heard a loud whimper, and the porniest noise you had ever heard. Intrigued, you slowly made your way to your bedroom, ensuring that you made no noise; your form shaking as you saw the door ajar.

Heart racing, you snuck towards the door, till what you had heard finally had visual backing. And there you saw something. Something which would have made a normal person's heart drop into their stomach and their palms to become sweaty. Instead, you felt a flutter twist throughout your body.

You saw a very naked woman on her back, writhing and undulating on the bed, as he, your man, ate her out, and rather voraciously at that. The askew bedspread, the clothes strewn about, the whole bedroom was a damn mess; but all your brain could register was that he ate pussy like a god, hearing her wails reverberate through your marital room.

"Yes, yes...i'm almost there!" she whined, her hips moving against his face. You could see him grinding lightly against the bed, his tongue making the girl grab the bedspread tightly between her fingers. It made your toes curl, a tingle passing through your scalp and all throughout your body.

"'S right, slut. Come on my face. Let me feel that cunt squeeze my damn fingers." Joel grunted, the sound of his sucking breaking the silence of the room.

The next moment, big-tits-long-hair screamed as she thrust her hips up against his face, holding him to her mound, curling her fingers and grasping his hair. He moaned as he held her legs up, his mouth relentlessly licking at her.

You closed your eyes as you remembered how his moan felt against your centre, your panties now drenched. Softly unbuttoning your jeans, you reached inside, touching yourself over your underwear.

This feels so wrong, and yet...

Her squeal made you open your eyes, as you saw Joel roughly flip her onto her hands and knees. You nearly moaned out loud, but bit your lip in the nick of time. He was facing opposite the door and hadn't seemed to notice your presence yet, which you were thankful for.

You saw him, Joel; your Joel, eat her out from behind, as he slowly jerked himself off, no doubt trying to stave off his orgasm.

"What do you want, slut?" he drawled, his hand working himself, slowly.

She said nothing, whimpering as she pushed her hips backwards, towards him. Smacking her on her ass, he growled, "Beg for it."

You swore under your breath, his husky command bringing you to the brink. You watched as she whined out breathily, "Please give me your cock, Mr. Miller. I need it inside me."

You bit your thumb as you watched him rip a foil packet and unroll a condom before thrusting inside her snatch in one move, burying himself to the hilt. She squealed, rather loudly, the sudden intrusion causing her some pain.

"Lemme hear you, lil' girl. Need you to scream loudly 'til the neighbours hear." He grunted through clenched teeth, his hips still flush against her ass.

You watched, transfixed, as he lightly began to circle her clit. Sex with Joel had always been mindblowingly hot, but now watching it, as a third person? It was even better than watching porn.

You watched as he jackhammered her cunt, roughly pulling on her wrists, to go even deeper. She wailed, her thighs trembling as she struggled to hold herself upright. You gasped, watching him push her into prone position, his thrusts never faltering.

This was wrong. It was transgressive. But oh god...why was it so hot? Why did it feel like YOU were the intruder? A sudden grunt broke you out of your reverie as you watched Joel manhandle her to his liking.

You watched the love of your life pound into her with such vigour you feared the bed would break.

"Ohh..ohhhh...god....i'm....cumming..." you heard her keening, her hands searching for something, anything to hold on to as Joel wrecked her, his hips faltering as he too, neared his end.

"Yeah...fuck.....'s it. Come on my cock, want t' feel you gushing around me.." he grunted, yanking on her arm to haul her up on her knees, fucking her with abandon. You doubled your efforts, circling your clit as you slipped a finger inside, muffling your groans as you could feel yourself inch closer and closer to your climax; your pussy getting wetter by the minute.

Her wails, her loud screams, enough to wake the dead resonated through the house. You were half afraid that Mrs. Davis next door would think there was someone being murdered.

You could feel your walls clench around nothing as you saw Joel pull out of her, jerking himself off and groaning as he finished all over her round ass, his hips shunting as he milked out every drop of his spend on her perky butt.

Breaking out of your horny haze, you decided that you'd had enough. You needed to leave before either one of them caught you. Rebuttoning your pants, you quickly exited the house, going for a small walk around the block to clear your mind.

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

Almost an hour had passed since the "incident". You had come back home, thankfully, after the girl had left, and had busied yourself with preparing dinner. As you were slicing the vegetables, you felt his arms circling around your waist, his breath tickling your ear as he slowly ground his growing erection against your hips. Wordlessly, you turned around as he weaved his fingers through yours, the slight pressure a welcome distraction as he pulled you in the direction of your bedroom, seating you on the very bed where he had been with another woman not too long ago.

"So, you were watching." he said, his Southern drawl thicker than usual.

You hesitated for a bit, before nodding.

He sniffled, nodding slightly as he ran his fingers through his beard thoughtfully.

"Was it up to the mark?" he asked, a little shyly, if you could decipher his tone correctly.

Turning your chin up, you looked into his eyes, your lips pursing. Your mouth upturned into a smirk as you looked at the ground with your eyes, your intentions abundantly clear.

He immediately dropped to his knees, between your legs; awaiting your words with bated breath. It turned you on to see him like this; it was always hot when he took charge but it was even hotter when you took charge, which was a rare but delicious occurrence.

"Oh baby." you smirked, as you took his chin between your fingers, slowly caressing his beard with your thumb. "It was so, so good. I nearly lost control and joined you both."

You felt his sigh of relief ghost over your drenched panties, his fingers tightening on your thighs as he looked up, his big brown eyes reflecting his solace.

"So was it a good early birthday present?" he bashfully whispered, his fingers lightly caressing your clit through your panties, his jeans getting tighter by the minute.

Grinning, you ran your fingers through his gorgeous mess of curls, scratching his beard lightly.

"It was amazing. I was a bit skeptical at first, but that was the hottest thing I've ever seen. It was like a porno, except more personal; like it was just made for me." you moaned, as you felt his finger nudge your panties to the side and lightly caress your wet folds.

"What else, baby?" he growled, his fingers becoming more insistent as he plunged a finger inside you, his thumb caressing your swollen nub.

You mewled, dropping down on the bed as you felt your walls clench around him; your orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks. You didn't quite catch what he said to you, trying to focus on his movements.

As you caught your breath, you propped yourself up on your elbows, watching your husband undress with ill concealed lust. He caught your heated look, smirking as he pulled off his boxers, crawling over to you on the bed.

"You didn't answer my question, sweetheart." he drawled lazily, his tongue circling your nipple.

You writhed under him, struggling to answer him. "Are you fishing for compliments right NOW, Miller?" you murmured dryly, your fingers making their way to his hard member.

Joel grinned as he took himself in hand, slowly but firmly pushing inside you, pressing his lips to yours as he swallowed your moan. Fully seated inside you, he waited a moment before pulling out and thrusting back in, a gasp being punched out of you.

He began moving faster, feeling your silky walls encase him tightly as he picked up his speed; your breathy moans and gasps adding to the symphony of your mingled breaths. He looked into your eyes lovingly entwining his fingers with yours.

It was like some unintentional barriers had been broken that night, and a new chapter of your married life had begun. If you thought you couldn't trust Joel more, you were wrong. You trusted him more than anything now and this rendezvous had only strengthened in your mind what you knew all along in your heart; that Joel Miller would do ANYTHING for you, no questions asked.

"Baby?" you gulped, struggling to keep your climax at bay as he pounded you into the mattress.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I want you to come inside me. Put a baby in me, Joel."

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EEEEEEK. I'm going to hide in my corner; I know this isn't a kink many share but oh well, i do (sometimes) and just needed to get it out of my system. Come yell at me or cackle with me in my inbox, feedback is always appreciated!!!!

Xoxox Lexi

[thoughts-i-have-had-in-passing]

I was thinking about how the Trill got like that and have come up with a new (for me, someone else has probably though of it already somewhere) theory.

It has to do with the Guardians. You know, the slightly odd-acting Trill who care for the symbionts. The first time we met one he identified Dax without recognising the host, which means that he could sense not just the presence of 'a' symbiont, but specific symbionts. Dude was clearly a little bit psychic.

The next time we meet one it's because Jadzia has been a naughty host and not gone back to Trill for her Zhian'tara, so he's come to her. Seeing how easily he moves entire clusters of memories like he's playing musical Katras, it appears that to be a guardian you must have some pretty serious psychic ability, which no other Trill who appears on the show demonstrates in any way at all.

So the theory: The hosts used to be prey for the much more mobile and parasitic symbionts, who would stalk them through the marshland by the waters before taking over their bodies and using them to complete their lifecycle or something along those lines. Maybe they laid eggs in them idk.

Anyway, over time some hosts developed a small amount of psychic ability as a warning system, protecting the clan by sensing when the little bastards were coming. To counter this the symbionts got smarter and more adaptable, to which the hosts got even smarter, kick-starting sapience in both species. At which point a proto-guardian detected actual thought in the symbiont and, for the first time ever, reached out to answer.

Tell you what, how about we share? Asks the symbiont, somewhat rattled by this new development.

You can do that? Asks the proto-guardian.

Suuuure, says the symbiont, Don't you want to know what those old markings mean in that cave over there? I helped write them you know.

It goes well, and the over time the symbionts get less mobile and the hosts get more into it, while the Guardians, as per their ancient role, maintain the bridge between them.

[theealbatross]

hi, I just read your sebastian fics and to say I'm obsessed would be underestimated hah

I wanted to ask if you take requests, and if you don't do you recommend some writers who you like or write similar to you?

I do take requests but there's no promises on when I can get on with it, I mostly use it as inspiration to integrate on the WIPS I am currently working on!

PREPARE YOURSELF FOR MY RECOMMENDATIONS:

@applinsandoranges - applin (idk if that's her name I just call her that in my head lmao) is my go to for ANYTHING because she writes SO WELL and has such an extensive collection of work that I know anyone will find something to enjoy!

@anto-pops - anto (again i just call them this in my head idk if this is their name jasdfk) is my go to for ~ spicy ~ content + dark!obsessive!yearning sebastian AND BEWARE IT IS SUPER SPICY SO MINORS DNI

@shadowtriovibes - girrrrrl her masterlist is again extensive and immaculate but you ARE NOT READY for her 'break a sweat' series (cheack out both the version here on tumblr and on ao3) IT IS A MASTERPIECE

@whizzing-fizzbee - MY CURRENT FAVORITE but mostly NSFW so children pls stay away! The 'This is How It Starts' was hilarious and sooo well-written

@callmehopeless - the series 'A Matter of Public Record' deadass had me giggling, swinging my feet A PERFECT COMBINATION OF YEARNING + DUMB TEENAGERS BEING DUMB TEENAGERS + AND ANGST

@choccy-milky - 'THE RAVEN AND THE SNAKE' IS A FANDOM CLASSIC AND I WILL TAKE NO NOTES (clora is my sweet angel baby) plus her art is sooo fucking pretty and hilarious and hot (minors dni i beg u)

@slytherizz - I actually discovered them on AO3 and TRUST I was jumping for joy when I realized she was in tumblr too! Most of her fics are nsfw so again MIND UR AGE!

@writing-intheundercroft - 'This Little Life' series had me BAWLING I love love LOVE her characterization of seb and mc I keep rereading it when I need to cry lol

@jackalope-patronus - they mostly do headcannons and drabbles but they have one shots too and they're perfect all the same!

I probably have more but these are the authors I constantly come back to! If anyone has any more recommendations please feel free to add! I mostly used her/they pronouns so any of the authors I recommended don;t hesitate to correct me if you want it fixed <3

[notebooks-and-laptops]

Okay so. It seems I'm in the minority about not liking the Spike-With-A-Soul plot. I've not really interacted with the Buffy fandom before this so its wild to me this is how people view it. Because the thing is...

Buffy is at its best, always, when it rejects the concept of ontological evil Vs good and of all the shows from that era (charmed is a big one that comes to mind) I think Buffy when it got a few seasons under its belt was one of the best shows at rejecting the ontological evil Vs ontological good mindset despite the fact that it's a monster of the week show. Oz, Buffy, Faith, Spike, Buffy, Willow, Harmony, Xander, Riley, Anya, Warren, Jonathan, Andrew - all of these characters are continuously used to show moral complexity, particularly that goodness is a choice and what does it mean to be a harm to others?

And spike epitomises that. He is the monster who suddenly had to deal with not being allowed to kill people; which led him to form bonds (particularly with Buffy and Dawn, but I'd argue he makes bonds with the rest of the Scoobies bar maybe Xander too) which led him into empathy and trying to do good even when it came at his own expense. There is this lingering question by season 6 with spike; if you removed his chip would he go back to how he was in season 2? Would he kill and maime and torture, or would he make the choice to be good just like the rest of the Scoobies have to do daily even when giving in would be easier.

And I think spike would have a wobble sure, very Anya esque in that regard, but I think he'd ultimately just like Anya NOT find it easy to go back to being 'evil' after having his chip removed even without a soul. And the lore implications to that are FACINATING and way cooler to explore than like. Soul = good, not soul = bad.

And also...I know people are like 'he was irredmiable after seeing red so it had to happen so we could like him again' but uhhhh that's actually one of the reasons I DONT like spike getting a soul. It really feels like the writers wanted a cop out, a way for us to go on shipping and engaging with Spuffy and absolve Spike. See he did a terrible thing but he can still be your pathetic little favourite wet man because we gave him a get out of jail free card! And that's just...kinda nothing to me? I mean sure he worked for that soul, did the trials, but it's not the same as actively having to deal with doing a terrible, unforgivable thing and where you go from there. It's just. It feels so cheap. Like they wanted the 'edgy, brutal' scene but they didn't ACTUALLY want the consequences so oops he's got a soul now don't worry about it he can still be your fav little guy. (And yeah, I mean. I do think the writers would have struggled with spike after seeing red if they didn't do something drastic - but if they weren't willing to grapple with it they shouldn't have done it, otherwise it just feels even more ick to me ya know.)

Idk I like season 7 for what it is but I think ultimately it was a backslide from so many interesting things set up in season 6, even willow kinda goes back to having good Vs bad sides rather than just being a complex individual with capacity for both. And spike is the Biggie for me because I'd have MUCH rather had the plot of 'buffy removes spikes chip and trusts that he's become a better person and doesn't need it anymore' than 'spike has a soul now so he's chill'. Also I think it would have made his plot with the first and potential killing waaaaay more engaging if they hadn't been able to write it off with 'but he has a SOUL now'.

(I think a really interesting plot would have been everyone THINKS spike has a soul even spike but it turns out he DOESNT and what the fuck does THAT mean?)

[gnawingonleonsbicep]

I drew rookie Leon and now I wanna gnaw on him so I have to ramble about him. Sorry I don’t make the rules.

UGH I want to just kiss him all over his STUPID face. Ugh and I want to pinch his cheeks, but I ESPECIALLY want to kiss him and leave lipstick marks all over him.

I’m especially imagining the scenario of the whole raccoon city incident not happening, and he’s just a fairly normal guy. Oh, he’d be an absolute sweetheart, I just know it. I mean, he would be regardless, but in this case he’d be able to be even more of a sweetheart, cause he wouldn’t be going through as much. Poor baby needs a break in canon.

Anyways, he’s a regular old rookie and whatnot, and like he’s going to some sort of like office party or something idk, and he’s like getting all dressed up some, a long sleeved white button-down shirt, dress pants, a black tie, etc etc. just looking nice idk maybe it’s a little less casual. I know I’m the one writing, but don’t ask me okay I just want to kiss him.

Anyways, he’s all dressed up and he just looks absolutely handsome and adorable and ugh you just wanna eat him up. One thing leads to another, and he’s getting smooched all over his stupid face. It’s not your fault, he was just looking exceptionally handsome and you couldn’t help yourself. And he’s a mess cause ugh he’s such a loser and I just know he’d probably be a little flushed cause he’s smitten or whatever. Just a mushy, lovesick daze enveloping him. Anyways, he shows up with lipstick all over his face, but he doesn’t really care cause it’s a sign of how much you love him.

[francisofthespook]

A/N: if you say my little 3am rant, no you didnt. But heres a little one shot thing i wrote last night when i couldnt sleep. I literally wrote this on my phone in my tumblr drafts at 5am and barely edited it so just bear with me okay... This so so stupidly self indulgent idk if this will even interest anyone, but writing it made me feel a little better :'') Would this count as hurt/comfort ? Idk

AUDaryl Dixon x F!Reader

Word count: 1928

Warnings: None fr, just smoking

Setting: AU where walkers never happened and you are Daryl's Neighbor (This isnt the one I had talked about in the tag game). I imagine this with like season 5 ish Daryl.

I made the border :)

“What are ya doin’?”

Daryl walked up to the waist-high chain link fence that separated your yards, leaning on it. You sighed heavily, avoiding his eyes as you ashed your cigarette on the ground.

“What’s it look like.”

You didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but the weight of everything that had been plaguing you the past week didn’t leave you any stamina for pleasantries.

“Woah, okay.”

He held up his hands defensively with a small laugh. Neither of you spoke. He was waiting for you to continue, you were waiting for him to leave.

Daryl stared off in the distance at some dead tree in the back corner of your yard. He knew you, knew you would say something eventually. But you didn’t. He was starting to get a little concerned. In all the years he had been your neighbor, your friend, he had never seen you this quiet.

Usually you loved talking shit with him. Telling him about every little inconvenience that happened that day while you smoked your respective cigarettes. Him, drinking in every little thing that you said, and you, talking endlessly for hours until your boyfriend came home and Daryl would quickly hop the fence and retreat into his house.

“(Y/N), what’s goin’ on?”

He said in a more serious tone, trying to mask the concern that was growing within him. His grip slightly tightened on the fence and the wires dug into his palms as they began to sweat, the Georgia sun beating down hard on his exposed shoulders. “Ya know ya can tell me anythin’.”

“Leave me alone.”

You still wouldn’t face him. He could see your body tensing every time you were reminded of his presence. He could tell you were trying to hold it together, purposely hiding as much of yourself as possible from him. It only made his anxiety grow.

Daryl cared about you more than he’d like to admit. When you and your boyfriend first moved into the shitty house next to his even shittier one, he was pissed, already mourning the privacy his tucked away home gave him. But he was wrong.

It couldn’t have been more the opposite. Your boyfriend was gone nearly all the time, and you were taking classes at the local community college so it stayed pretty quiet. But every evening, after you came home, you would sit on your little patio and smoke for a while until your boyfriend came home, (usually at an unreasonable hour, drunk, and stumbling straight to bed).

Over time, yours and Daryl’s ‘smoke breaks’ started to line up. And it totally didn’t have anything to do with Daryl thinking you were pretty and wanting to eye you as he had his evening cigarette.

It started with just you and him on your respective patios, smoking and not acknowledging the other's presence. But one day, you spoke up. You had asked him for a light, and he wordlessly sauntered over to the fence and held the flame to you as you leaned over to light your cigarette. From then, it escalated.

It was almost routine now, that Daryl would be outside already having a smoke when you got home and finally made your way out. Once he saw you, he would walk over and hop the short fence, and you two would sit together while he listened to you talk about your day. He rarely spoke about his own, he much preferred your dramatizations of shitty encounters with your professors, or run-ins with ex-friends. He secretly looked forward to it every day.

But now you were quiet, and that scared him. Quiet was not a word he would use to describe you.

“Seriously (Y/N), what’s wro-“

“Daryl, fuck off!”

You finally turned to face him, and he almost wished you hadn’t. Black streaks ran down your face from the mascara that had run, dried, and then run again. Your eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, your lips slightly swollen from crying so hard.

The sight of you caused an ache in his heart that hurt so deep, that he had to stop himself from instinctively placing his hand on his chest to check that a hole hadn’t been drilled through it. Without hesitation, he hopped the fence and rushed over to you, kneeling in front of you as you covered your face with your hands.

Smoke curled upwards from the still-lit cigarette between your fingers, and a small tuft of ash fell onto your jeans. He wanted to reach out and touch you, place a hand on your knee, and rub small, soothing circles with his thumb, but he knew he shouldn’t. There was an unspoken line between you two that he never dared cross, no matter how badly he yearned to. But for the first time, he seriously considered it.

“Please, jus’ talk to me.”

He pleaded, his brows furrowed with worry as he looked up at your still hidden face. His hand flinched, he wanted nothing more than to pull you into a tight hug and tell you everything would be okay. He would burn down the whole world for you if he thought it’d make you feel better.

“It’s stupid.”

You said, your hands muffling the words to where he almost couldn’t make out what you were saying.

“It obviously ain’t that stupid if it’s upset ya this badly.”

He spoke in the most gentle voice he could muster.

You slowly brought your hands down, dropping the cigarette onto the concrete and putting it out with your shoe. You still didn’t lift your head, still couldn’t bear to make eye contact with him. You were ashamed of your state, wondering why you even came out here in the first place, knowing he would be out here too.

“Please, yer freakin’ me out”

His voice slightly cracked, and it made your already broken heart crack even more. Daryl was your best friend, kinda your only friend. But you didn’t feel like talking. The hurt you felt encapsulated your entire soul, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to put into words the pain you felt right now, didn’t even want to try.

Slowly, cautiously, you tilted your head up, making eye contact with him for the first time today. The worry that painted his face made you ache. You felt like you didn’t deserve his worry, that he didn’t deserve to have his emotions negatively altered by you. You already felt like such a burden to everyone around you, Daryl was the last person you’d ever want to add to that list. He deserved to be happy, not on his knees in a dither about you.

“I really don’t want to talk about it.” You mumbled.

Daryl knew that whatever it was that had caused you this much turmoil must have been bad. And as much as he wanted you to divulge every little detail so that he knew who or what to take it up with, he respected your boundaries and nodded.

“Tha’s ok. But please, jus’ let me be here fer ya.”

You stared into his deep blue eyes, your own glassing up again, and nodded.

“Okay.”

He gently patted your knee twice, a safe contact, before standing up and dragging a chair close to yours. Pulling his pack from his chest pocket, he brought a cigarette to his mouth and motioned for you to pass him the lighter.

You flicked the metal wheel and held the flame over to him, cupping it so that it wouldn’t go out. He took a deep breath in as the end of the stick cherried, and leaned back in his chair.

“Went to the shop today to get those brake pads I ordered, they were s’possed to be ready today. I get in there and the damn fool at the counter told me they’d been back ordered fer another month!”

You looked over, slightly surprised to hear Daryl talking as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t just seen you at your lowest state. He stared off at the tree line as he continued.

“Then, when I’m on my way home, I get pulled over fer not ‘stoppin’ all the way’ at a stop sign”

His smoke brushed past you as he raised his hand to make air quotes. You realized, that he was trying to distract you by sharing details about his day. You could feel the warmth in your heart ever so slightly starting to fuse just the tiniest cracks.

You held your hand up to cover your mouth as you bit back the smallest laugh.

He grunted, “An’ then I get home and see that Dog took a big ol’ shit on the couch.”

He rolled his eyes and laughed. As much as he normally disliked talking about himself, he would do it until the sun burnt out just to see the small smile that was starting to form on your face.

He went on for a little while, talking about everything from his favorite shirt ripping last week, to the time he and Merle supposedly saw a ‘chupacabra’.

By the time you heard the car pull into the driveway, you had almost forgotten about your own shitty day. Almost.

Daryl took the sound of your garage opening as his cue to head home. He stood up and stretched a little before turning to start walking back.

“Daryl-“

You called out before he reached the fence. He turned his head to look over at you.

“Thank you.”

He gave you a smile smile and a nod before saying, “Anytime. Hate seein’ ya so upset.”

The sun had long set, and you hoped that your dim porch light was dull enough to conceal the blush on your cheeks.

“See you tomorrow?”

You asked, a small part of you worried that he wouldn’t want to hang out with you anymore after seeing how pathetic you were today.

“‘Course”

He gave you one last smile before grabbing the fence and hoisting himself over it. You stood up as you heard the garage door open and close as your boyfriend made his way through the house.

Later that night, as you lay in bed, you thought about what it would be like if Daryl were lying next to you instead of this cold man who barely even spoke to you anymore. You thought about what it would feel like to be held again as you fell asleep, something long disregarded with your current partner.

You felt a small ache for a version of yourself that was living next door with Daryl. Cooking breakfast for him while wearing only his shirt, curling up on the couch with him in the evenings as you watched some dumb rom-com, riding on the back of his bike as he swerved through Atlanta streets late at night.

You were jealous of that version of you, the one that said ‘fuck it’ to everything shitty in her life and exchanging it for a better one, with him.

But you weren’t that girl. You weren’t strong enough to do what it takes to be her yet. But the hope that maybe one day, you could be, was what finally helped you drift off to sleep that night. And maybe if you had known that just a few yards away, Daryl was dreaming about the same thing, it would have given you the confidence you needed to become that girl.

But for tonight, you laid an arms length away from a man you barely recognized anymore and hoped that tomorrow would be better.

lmk what yall think, love you guys <3333

[noirsdoll]

idk if you take requests right now and if you write for daisuke but...big bro!daisuke x lil sis reader smut omgmg its just wont stop going trought my head recently 🙏🏻🙏🏻

oh this is so good... i think he lowkey has a porn addiction LMAO um daisuke would love his little sis more than anything!! so much so that he gets carried away... cw for brother/sister incest and a smidgen of dubcon!!

Daisuke knows you look up to him. That’s why he feels like such an asshole for what he’s doing to you now. 

Sure he’s not the brightest, or the best at anything, really, but you’ve never let that stop you from loving him any less. He’s so grateful he has you. 

In the upcoming days before his departure for the Pony Express, he’s been spending every waking moment with you. He’s going to miss you dearly, so he’s been trying to fill his final days making memories with you.

You just wanted to watch TV with him, sitting up in his lap like you always do, content to feel his skin flush with yours. You move to get comfortable and Daisuke lets you do so with a soft laugh and a ruffle of your hair. 

“You ready?” He asks, hand on the remote. 

You beam and nod. “Keep your eyes on the screen, okay? There’ll be a pop quiz at the end.”

“Can’t be a pop quiz if you’re telling me about it beforehand.”

You roll your eyes in jest. “Okay, smartass. Just shut up and watch.”

But then you start to shift to turn away to face the screen, indirectly grinding yourself against him. And it’s like Daisuke and his dick suddenly gain consciousness together. He’s never looked at you that way but suddenly he is— and it terrifies him. 

Daisuke never realized just how much you’ve grown up. Sure you’re still his little sister, but you’re a woman now. You have curves and tits and— he should stop thinking about this.

Now that you’re both adults, you can’t be so close to him like this anymore. It’s wrong. There’s a threshold you’ve both reached as adults that makes all the cuddling and handholding icky and so far from familial. 

Daisuke should say something, he should say that, exactly like how he just thought it in his brain. His hands move to your hips and dig into the flesh, pulling you to a stop. 

“Daisuke?” You look over your shoulder at him, the corner of your lips sinking into a confused frown. 

He swallows the lump in his throat, the words die on his tongue. “It’s nothing, sis.” Daisuke kisses your temple, and even that feels wrong. 

Surely you can feel it, his cock getting hard against your soft ass, the way his hips are squirming, not to mention how heavy his breathing has gotten. He’s a creep, he’s a creep, he’s a fucking creep. He hates how thinking that only makes him harder. 

He rests his forehead on your shoulder, rocking his cock against you, just barely able to feel the soft press of your cunt through your shorts. Daisuke gasps appreciatively against you. Just one more time. He’s only gonna do it one more time. 

But then you make the prettiest fucking sound as he does it a second time and Daisuke needs more. His stomach curdles but he can’t help himself, so drawn to you and only you. 

“Daisuke? What are you doing?” You ask as his hands creep lower, over your ass, pulling your shorts to the side. They’re hardly shorts, more like panties. You don’t ever wear much around him. 

“Just keep watching. Don’t mind me.” He’s fucking salivating. All the stepsister porn in the world couldn’t have prepared him for the sight of your pussy. Why did you shave it? Are you talking to some guy he doesn’t know about?

You pout. “But I wanted you to watch this show—!”

His dick nudges your cunt and your spine goes straight. You aren’t wet enough to take him yet, unfortunately. He can fix that. How do those guys do it in porn? 

Daisuke spits on his shaft, lubing it up. “Stay still, okay?” 

You try to get away, but he’s holding you against him. “What are you—?! Daisuke, I’m gonna tell Mom—!”

His dick slots into you and he tugs you back into him by your thighs. You gasp in shock, the noise split by a moan as he sinks you down onto him. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice heavy and tainted by lust, “I just needed to know what you felt like.”

He didn’t need to do anything, but it’s hard to face the truth when he just put his dick inside his sister. Especially when he starts to move his hips and it’s practically impossible with how tight you are. You must not want him to pull out. 

You open your mouth to speak, but your words are lodged so far down your throat that all that comes out is a breathy gasp. Your pussy throbs around him. 

You sit there frozen as he fucks you, only starting to relax when he stuffs his hand between your thighs and rubs your clit. His fingers slip a little with how wet you’ve gotten.

“Open up for me, sis,” he begs, “please, fuck— I’m sorry.” It feels like all he can do is apologize.

You moan, throwing your head back onto his shoulder. Your pretty tits heave as you get yourself situated on his cock. “Daisuke, Daisuke—,” 

“Yeah? Is it okay?” He asks. “I’m not hurting you, am I?” That’d be his biggest fear in all of this. Daisuke wants nothing but to make you feel good, even if it’s at a cost to him— it’s the least he can do.

You shake your head, almost fervently, “gonna cum. Please, don’t stop.” Your pussy’s making half the noise for you as he rocks you on his dick.

“Fuck, you are?” Daisuke’s bewildered, he thrusts into you with more intensity. “Wanna see it, please, sis.” He’ll never need porn again with how your moans are so perfectly burned into his brain.

You come apart around him, holding onto him so tight that he swears he might bruise. He gives you a moment to calm down around him, combing your sweaty hair out of your face and kissing your forehead.

Daisuke really didn’t think this through— he’s gonna miss you even more now.

[mooniema]

Can you pleaseee do something with Sae-byeok or Se-mi x barista reader?

Se-mi x reader - hot chocolate with marshmallows

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ｡- ༝ -｡ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

pairing ; Se-mi x barista reader

summary ; on a saturday morning, while you were working as a barista, a stunning woman comes in and you accidently mess up her order

warnings ; shitty writing and she might be a little ooc idk, might delete it later if i get too embarrassed

words:

a/n ; this is my first request so i hope yall like it, I might write the one for Sae-byeok too or/and maybe make a second part on this if its wanted

Men dni

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ｡- ༝ -｡ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

It was a particularly busy Saturday morning and you were at your new job in a café as a barista. It was your third day at work and you still had to bring a routine in doing your. Even though it was stressful and gave you even less free time, you know that you can't mess up, because you need the money to pay at least a part of your college fees, since your family isn't rich enough to pay everything alone.

So now you are here, serving customers during rush hour with a headache from all the noise and a smile on your face so you seem friendly enough.

When you had a moment of peace you started zooning out, looking out of the window to see the mist surrounding everything. No wonder people were rushing in, just looking outside made you feel cold.

A smooth voice interrupted your thoughts. "Hi, I´d like to order something" You quickly looked to see who was talking to you and you saw her. A short haired woman with piercings on nose and lips, which add to her beauty. She has a faint smirk on her face, studying you with her dark eyes and you can´t help, but feel small under her gaze. You quickly stopped staring at this intimidating woman and put on your customer smile. "Oh hi! Of course, what can I get for you?" "A caramel macchiato, please." You nod and point at a table. "Sit down on the table, while I make your order please"

You watch as the woman nods and goes over to the table, sits down and starts looking at her phone. Then you go to make her order and while doing so, your female coworker bumps into you and you land on the ground. "Omg, I'm so sorry!" The girl kneels down, quickly helping you up. "Can you do me a favor and make some orders for me? The guests there next to the door want one hot chocolate, one latte macchiato and two black coffees. Thank you!" You stare perplex as she rushes away through the backdoor to the 'employees only' area and sigh, feeling frustrated at her leaving you with even more work. You look over to the pretty customer from before, who seems occupied with her phone and you lean on the counter trying to remember what she ordered. Fuck, what did she order again? You think to yourself. You go through all the orders you remembered in your thoughts, before settling on hot chocolate. I'm pretty sure, it was hot chocolate... She probably wants to warm up from the cold. Maybe I should ask her again? You quickly shake your head at that. No way, I'm new at this job and this would just show, how unorganised I still am and she looks like she could bite my head off... I'll just make her hot chocolate and if its the wrong order, I'll make her the right order and pay for it and pray that my boss isn't watching.

You start making the hot chocolate and and after a bit you place some marshmallows in it and go to the counter with the cup in your hand, calling the intimidating girl over. You watch as the girl approaches with a nervous feeling in your stomach from not knowing if you messed her order up, but you try to keep your friendly smile. You hand over the hot chocolate. "Here is your order!" You watch as she takes it into her hands, decorated with silver rings and you notice her confused look. "Is everything okay?" "Uh yea, but that's not what I ordered... I ordered a caramel macchiato" You start to feel your cheeks redden from embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, I'll go and make you a new drink" You reach out to get the drink, but instead of giving you it, she takes a sip. "No need to, I'll keep the hot chocolate" You try to insist on making her a new drink, but she just chuckles. "But Miss-, you don't have to drink that..." "No need to call me Miss... My name is Se-mi and instead of apologizing, just make it up to me by texting me later" She quickly scribbles her phone number on a napkin and hands it over to you with the money for the hot chocolate and then walks away, while you stare at her with a flushed and surprised expression. "Bye sweetheart and don't forget to text me!"

I'm so sorry, that this is so bad written and short, but I'm kinda stressed, because of school right now and I kinda rushed this. I might delete this later and maybe rewrite it, if I get inspiration.

[muntitled]

I fear you have written the only age gap sado-masocist daddy dom salesman series we needed.

It’s getting repetitive and lackluster in the tags because you beat everyone to it, which is crazy since your series is well written and engaging. It’s insane how you were able to capture the essence in such short time. The. everybody followed👀 (Leave it to a black woman be naturally talented and set trends👏🏾)

Although you haven’t finished, I’m seeing character growth from the salesman that I have not in other fics. It’s… pitiful; people have had months and yet I see nothing refreshing. They just writing p*rn now, no thought into the matter. I like a little no plot every now and then but we losing recipes. PWP is dying just like it did in visual p*rn. (If you ever seen a 70s-80s film yk🤭)

It honestly feels like they’re playing a game of telephone with your fic😬 I am desperate for something new to read😭 I’m in my 20s but the submissive college girl vs sadistic older man trope can only be done so many times till you wish every girl believed old men had worms.

I don’t wanna see another fic if it’s not yours.

Also I have to praise you for your formatting and tagging because it’s rough in the tags.

Anyway I just wanted to give you your flowers, and I can’t wait for your novel💖

💐💐💐

I LOVE BEING VALIDATED BY BLACK WOMEN RAHHH

Writing this novel is low-key eating my mental health. I have so many questions, like is this a romance? A thriller? Whats going onnnnnn

Idk but I'm trying!

**girl gimme the details on those 70s-80s films you're talking about