#idk if that was my writing tag but it is now

[twist-dg]

Thanks for the tag!

No pressure tags (I’ve never done this before bear with me 😭): @legendary-pancakes, @marsnoodlesoup, @sparkspsps, @wildsage00

Blorbo Poll

Rules: make a poll with five of your all-time favourite characters and then tag five people to do the same. See which character is everyone's favourite.

Tagged by @powersuitup. Probably very predictable picks for anyone who knows me but whatevs.

NP tagging @tweetthang96, @coolnerdyrn, @kayliemalinza, @raaorqtpbpdy, and @thephilosophersapprentice.

[mydarlingclaudia]

every word I meant to say

note : ermmmm hi. don't ask where I went for like almost a month work is eating me alive and I was sad. this was inspired by that the unsent project thing andddd idk if I really like this it's def ooc but I was thinking about it again today and this has been in my drafts since September so I figured why not

wc : 2.1k

tags : @luvrgreyy @clitorphosis @sonya-semyonova

desc : letters that went unsent. kind of unrequited love, angst (???), more Leon focused, re2r!Leon - DI!Leon, fem!reader, ooc, not proofread

"I meant to write sooner, I really did. I know it's been a year, my life is so different now, I don't think you'd even believe me if I tried to explain it. I hope you're doing better than I am, I'm happy you weren't able to move to the city with me."

Leon hasn't written a letter since, what, his first few years in the academy? Maybe the end of his senior year of high school? He can't really remember, but he knows that this letter is important because it's to you, his friend he hasn't seen since the night he left for Raccoon City. This isn't even an actual letter, he's scribbling out what he thinks might be good excuses as to why he hasn't talked to you in a year on the back of pieces of scrap paper he took from the office.

He's supposed to be asleep right now, same as everyone else in boot camp, but it's been a year since Raccoon City and he's wondering if you ever tried to reach him. Maybe you tried to go to Raccoon City to look for him, only to see the pile of rubble that stood in its place, sectioned off by the government. Maybe you thought he was dead, he wouldn't blame you.

You and Leon had stuck together all throughout high school, even managed to stay friends when he went off to the police academy and you moved a few hours away for college. He doesn't even know if your address is still the same, he really hopes it is, there's no phone-books in boot camp if he wanted to try and call you, you're supposed to have your loved ones numbers memorized.

The last time Leon saw you was the night before he was supposed to move to the city, before he got a letter in the mail the next morning telling him not to come in, he really wishes he had listened. You were so happy for him, starting out as a city cop was a big deal and he had worked so hard to get there, you and a few friends had thrown him a going-away-party, telling him not to forget you once he got to the city. Leon couldn't forget you if he tried.

You had talked about moving to the city with him for a short period of time, it was really just ramblings the two of you kept bringing up. "Oh, when we live in the city..." "I can come visit you at work..." "I'll handle dinner, you'll handle cleaning..." Nothing ever really came of those ideas, but it gave him a warm feeling in his stomach knowing you wanted to come to the city with him.

He hopes you’ve been well, that life has been kinder to you than it has to him. Leon hopes you got that job you were gushing about the last time he saw you, he hopes you still think of him on his birthday because he thinks of you often.

He shouldn’t have gone to Raccoon City, he should’ve stayed home the day he left and instead stopped by your house to bother you about going to see a movie. Or he should have taken you to lunch, anything would’ve been better than walking into a city that was beyond saving.

"I’m not really sure what I’m saying, but I know I miss you. How have you been? I hope I’m able to come and visit soon, everything’s been moving so fast, but I’ll figure something out. Maybe we can get dinner, or something. Whatever you want, I’ll pay for it, don’t worry."

Leon's hands shake a tiny bit when he thinks of you, it's that school boy nervousness that movies portray whenever there's a boy with a crush on a girl who he knows is probably too out of his league. You were friends, at least.

"You're done with school now, right?" He knows you are. "I wish I was there for the graduation ceremony, I know your parents are proud. Do you remember my graduation party? Someone spiked the punch and we both ended up passed out in the bathtub at your house, you looked really pretty that night. I hope your graduation was better than mine. This would probably have been better as a phone call, but I don't know, you said letters were always more thoughtful.

– Leon"

–

That letter never got sent. Every letter needs an envelope, Leon just never got around to finding one, but he kept that scrap piece of paper tucked inside his pillowcase on the odd chance that he got his hands on one. He had stricter rules to follow than the other recruits, being legally dead and all.

But even after he got out of boot camp, he kept the letter. It's hidden away in some drawer in his house, he's not sure where, though.

He didn't make it into the army, he's not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but being in the position he was in now wasn't much better. He's stronger now, hardened, more mature.

Leon's written a few more letters to you over the years, ones that still never got sent because he either deemed them unworthy or because he became unsure of himself halfway through writing it. But he hasn't thrown any of them away, he'll send them one day, he swears it.

Leon's not using you as a way of journaling, either, even though he should find some way to actually write down his thoughts to get them out of his head. What he writes to you is mostly memories, telling you that his life keeps changing and that he misses you. He knows you're different by now, too. You're both grown, no longer in high school, no longer in college or the academy. If he could turn back time, go anywhere other than Raccoon City, he would. He thinks that's selfish of him, him not being there would've left Claire and Sherry in that city, but how would he have even known?

"Me again, hope you're doing better than I am." Leon's way with words gets worse and worse by the week, not that he cares. "I met someone who kind of reminded me of you, she's a sweetheart, like you. You'd probably become fast friends if you were ever able to meet."

Leon's not allowed to tell you about his mission in Spain, or about the president's daughter. President Graham is putting more body-guards in place for his daughter once she steps foot in D.C. again, Leon's sure the president considered appointing Leon as one of them at some point since breaking the news that she was going to be coming back home safely.

Leon should stop thinking about you so much, it's not like you were his only friend in the world, you've probably forgotten him, anyway.

"My life is still different, but yours probably is, too. This probably sounds stupid, but I miss being in high school. You probably don't, your mom was up your ass all the time and you worked yourself to the bone. Has that changed at all?

I remember that one year I went to Thanksgiving at your house, your uncles were all drunk and your cousins kept trying to get me to come sit with them, your grandpa was trying to get me interested in football. I haven't had a holiday like that since then, your family was always really nice to me."

He's not sure what to say anymore, these letters always just end up dragging out, but Leon has a lot of memories and he hopes you think of them as often as he does.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited. It's harder for me to get time off of work these days, even though I could really fucking use it. I promise one day I'll come back, it's just not going to be for a little while. Just don't do anything dumb.

– Leon"

–

Those letters he's been writing you have piled up in the drawer of his nightstand.

He's definitely sure that your address has changed by now, you're probably not even in the same state anymore. He could always try to find you on Facebook, explain everything that's been building up over the years in a simple text, but there's still rules he's supposed to follow even in his personal life.

Leon didn't stop writing, though. The letters did eventually get shorter, he's not sure if you like the same things anymore or if you'd even be interested.

He writes now mostly about how different his life would be if he was with you, if he had just asked you out in high school or kissed you the night he was supposed to leave for Raccoon City. It almost feels real to him when he goes to sleep, but that might just be the alcohol numbing his brain, not the dream of you sleeping next to him or the feeling of your breath on the back of his neck, not even the little pitter-patter off tiny footsteps coming from down the hallway.

It does make him feel a bit pathetic, dreaming of a life with someone he hadn't talked to in years. Leon can't help but think of you, he always thought you were pretty, and the past always lives in the back of his mind, but it comes alive late at night.

You're an entirely different person by now, someone who he hasn't had the opportunity to meet yet. You're probably married, maybe you even have a few kids running around, Leon's jealous of that. That could've been him, but it's not. But he's not even sure if you'd recognize each other if you passed by on the street, so is it even worth it to dwell on all the maybe's?

"I'm not sure I'll get to visit you for a while, not without a lucky fucking twist of fate, anyway."

All these letters are starting to sound the same, but Leon clings onto the thought of someday sending them to whatever corner of the country you were hiding in and hoping that there's still room in your life for a stranger.

"Do you still want me over for dinner? You don't know what I'd give to just eat a shitty meal with you right now."

You don't know what he'd give to do anything with you, really. He knows that there's a lifetime worth of things he's missed out on and that maybe every once in a while you think about him in the same way he thinks about you.

"I don't know how to ask this, but are you married? I know you'd look stunning in a wedding dress." You probably are, you're a catch, who wouldn't want to put a ring on your finger? Your husband's probably a better man than he is, too. One who hasn't had years worth of trauma jammed into his brain with the proof of it marked across his body, your husband probably takes you out on a date every week, maybe even surprises you with breakfast in bed and kisses the nape of your neck to gross out your kids. "I really hope you're happy, in my head you are.

I wanted that to be us, I never told you, but I was a chicken-shit kid and didn't know how to say it. You show up in my dreams sometimes, you deserve nothing but the best. I meant to get back in touch with you forever ago, but I think it's probably too late.

– Leon"

–

Two years after his last letter and Leon's still thinking of you, seventeen years after Raccoon City and the image of you sitting across from him for the last time still loops in his mind. He doesn't really remember your voice but he knows that you thought handwritten letters were romantic, and he still reads over the ones he meant to send to you but kept avoiding.

He's done with the letters, hasn't written one in a long time. But he just got back from California and your old favorite song is playing on the radio, and he's remembering how in love he is with your memory.

"I don't know what I'm doing. I'm too old for this and I'm sure you'd tease me if we had somehow kept in touch. I don't blame you if you thought I died in Raccoon City, I hope you're still alive and that life is good to you.

You were always important to me, I think you've given me something to cling to over the years. This letter won't find you and I'm not even really sure if I want it to, but I hope you'd still call me if you were able to. You wouldn't believe the things I've seen, but I'm happy you never got to see them.

Love, Leon

p.s. I'd say I love you but it feels like something you'd say in person"

[dovalore]

sharing literature

first panel: (left and right evbo designs by @cowboyskeletons)

second panel: rightmost evbo by conn1e_ on twt, every other (except the one holding book) by me

[cryobabiess]

CONSOLATIO Emperor Caracalla x concubine!reader

Summary: After a public tantrum at a senator's gathering, Geta sends Caracalla's most beloved concubine to comfort his mad brother. Tags: hurt/comfort, implied/mentioned sex, Caracalla has serious mommy issues, nipple play, breastfeeding :/ (sorry), short fic, Caracalla is obsessed with your big naturals I guess IDK AN: I'm not sure if there's any Otessa Moshfegh enjoyers out there, but this lil mini fic is inspired by Lapvona. Caracalla's man-child vibe reminded me of Merek, so naturally I had to write the most strange and off-putting fic to satisfy my weird-girl impulses. Willing to write more of this if there's a demand for it, so feel free to leave feedback. Enjoy, freaks!

Hurt by his brother’s callous words, the divine emperor Caracalla had fled the senator’s banquet in a fit of rage. It only takes a single tense glance from Emperor Geta for you to receive his silent command to follow after his mad brother. It does not take long to find him.

Like always, he hides away under a golden table tucked in the far corner of the throne room. His sniveling echoes off the tall marble walls. You slowly approach his curled up form, as if not to startle a wild hare.

“Caracalla. You must come out now.” You call his name softly.

“I will not.” He croaks through his tears, turning his back towards you. With a sigh, you sink to your knees, extending your open arms towards him.

You wait for Caracalla to find his sense. After a few moments, He finally turns to you to reveal his face—pale, rosy, and wet.

“Has brother sent you to scold me? I am no child!” Spite coats his words. You smile at the absurdity. He could order your head on a pike if he so pleased, but prefers for you to indulge his brooding. A god-king with the whims of a spurned child.

“No, I do not seek to scold, little prince. Come now, so that I may hold you.”

And with that, the emperor crawls to you.

He settles into your arms and you cradle his torso, the luxurious fabric of his ornate robes pooling at your lap. His cheek rests atop your bosom like a newborn babe—he weeps like one too.

“It is unjust! Brother always has the last word, yet I am eldest!” Caracalla laments, his tears wet the bodice of your stola.

You use your free hand to smooth tendrils of copper hair away from his damp face. A tantrum of this magnitude was not uncommon for the young emperor, though you often wondered how a man could display such behaviors at the age of twenty and one. Caracalla was distinctly tender, despite his blood lust. His ego was delicate, easily wounded by Geta’s pragmatism and rigid sensibility.

“He wishes to be rid of me, I know it.” He sniffles, his hand reaching to fiddle with the pendant resting at the base of your neck. You smile softly despite growing weary of this routine.

“Don’t be without reason, mea dulcis. You are invaluable to Rome and all her subjects. Geta speaks without tact when he is cross. You must know this too, hmm?”

Caracalla thinks for a moment, brows knitting together in contemplation.

“He is unkind. It should have been him to suffer in the womb, not I.”

You can’t help but laugh at his juvenile description of his brother's malicious cruelty. Frustration flashes across Caracalla’s face as water threatens to brim his eyes again.

“Peace, my lamb. No more tears.” You coo, using a thumb to swipe away at the wetness—but it is too late. Your laughter invited a new wave of angry tears. He buries his face in your breasts, jeweled fingers dragging down the fabric of your stola. His mouth quickly finds your nipple. You hiss, resisting the urge to pull him away from your flesh.

It brings the emperor great comfort to suckle you. Geta had explained Caracalla’s affliction once before.

“Our own mother denied him her breast; she believed him to be cursed. Perhaps he held on to that trangression. He called for a wet nurse until the age of ten and two. My brother has always suffered from madness, you see.”

You had taken prior notice of this habit. After he fucks you like an animal in heat, he often drifts back to your tit, lazily sucking and nibbling until sleep takes him. You thought nothing of it until emperor Geta revealed the cause to you.

And though you had no milk to bear, tranquility came over the man as if he had been fed. Eyes closed and breath even, he plays with a tendril of your hair as he rolls your swollen nipple in his hot mouth—lost in bliss. It is odd, but you pity him. With his lips so flush against you and his expression finally at peace, one could forget the madness, the carnage, the rage.

Some time later, Caracalla regains his composure, standing straight with his shoulders back, returning to a proud and stately posture. He crudely wipes the spit from his chin with the back of his hand.

“You will attend to me in my chambers tonight.” He commands before returning to the festivities.

[touchme-teezme]

hi mimi! idk if u take requests but last pick was everything to me like i lovedddd the book that inspired you 😭🥹 can i PLEASE get a san version with the “did you want to watch me burn” poem? just destroy me. my heart is yourssss

This Time.

PAIRING | collegeboy!san x fab!reader

TAGS | arguments, smut with a plot, kissing, oral, angsty unprotected breakup sex, san has great pull out game, and a (sort of?) cliffhanger… again? idk i suck at writing tags and proper endings lolololol

RATINGS | NSFW 18+ (minors pls DNI/if it makes u uncomfortable don’t read it)

SONGS | No One Noticed - The Marías, Not You Too- Dr*ke & Been Like This - Doja Cat

SUMMARY | The breakup for this couple was on the horizon. One of them was in denial, and it’s not you.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you all for showing Last Pick a lot of love & anon for enjoying it. since a san version was requested, here ya go :) lmk which member should be next if you'd want me to actually make this into an angsty atz smut series. kinda like the idea they’re all connected?¿ like a smutiverse… im a little tipsy rn writing this part. also if u catch mistakes, no u didn’t. kk bye love uou

inspired by a quote from Save Me An Orange by Hayley Grace: what more did you want from me? i gave you my heart my soul my body i let you build a home inside of me but you still went to the store and bought a lighter just to set me on fire did you want to watch me burn?

You’re usually an optimist but it wasn’t until San smashed the vase you bought and painted together at that one arts and crafts store that you realized optimism could only take you so far.

A screaming match broke out immediately. Words bounced off the walls, echoing in your small apartment as fingers were being pointed. He followed you around the entire house as you tried to walk away from the conversation, pinging in your ear like a fly.

San gets emotional when he cares. It was the first thing you liked about him when you first started to talk. How nice would it be to be with someone so well in-tune with their emotions that they don’t why away from it?

If only you’d known it would result in this.

The relationship was done for. It had been for a while. He had been far too busy juggling classes, work, and his new friends who seemed to suddenly fill all the time he used to spend with you. You’d barely even seen him in weeks, and when you did, it was like you were fighting for scraps of his attention.

San’s voice cracked as he shouted behind your head. “You think I don’t know I’ve been busy? I’ve been juggling everything, trying to keep it all together, and you—you—think I don’t feel guilty? You want me to just drop everything? Stop hanging out with my friends? Quit school? What do you want from me?”

He was following you now, not letting you get a moment of peace. You forced yourself to focus on the task of cleaning up the shards, trying to block out his words as you looked for the broom around your house.

“Do you think I want this? You think I want to feel like this? You think I want to hurt you? But you keep demanding more from me, and I can’t do it anymore! I can’t just stop living my life to fix yours!”

“Oh fuck off!” You barked back, finally finding the broom that was in an odd spot in your wardrobe (probably because San had placed it there the last time he used it). You were now growing more annoyed.

“Don’t curse at me! Listen to me for goodness sake!”

Your hands trembled around the broom handle, but you marched towards the vase shards and started sweeping, trying not to hear the poison dripping from his mouth. You had given up on fighting—there was no point anymore. He was too far gone, wrapped up in his own world that was so difficult for him to show up.

“You’re too much, alright?” he spat, his voice cracking with frustration. “I can’t breathe, I can’t think. Every time I try to focus on something else, you’re right there, needing something from me. I can’t fix this. I can’t keep being suffocated—“

You dropped the broom.

You turned slowly, meeting his gaze for the first time, and in that moment, you never felt like this about him before.

“Do you hear yourself?” Your voice was shaking, but it was steady, sharp. “In that whole rant you just forced me to hear, not once did you mention us—not once did you mention me like i’m not in this fucking relationship with you! Not once did you mention all i’ve done for you, and the only time you did was to insult me!”

San opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He just stood there, eyes wide, lips trembling.

You stepped forward as if to challenge his speechlessness, your heart pounding in your chest. “What the fuck are you still doing here then?!”

The room fell silent.

And then, out of nowhere, he tried to reach for you.

It was a movement fuelled by panic if he was truly honest, it was a final desperate attempt to fix things without actually knowing how.

He just knew that he had to have you in his arms and you’d melt. His hand caught yours, pulling you closer, but you yanked it away.

He stepped closer, his breath ragged, reaching for you again with a look in his eyes that was pure guilt you knew all too well.

Your stern face broke when he managed to get you in his large strong arms that wrapped around you.

You stood there, shaking, breathing hard, barely able to hold back the tears.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” Your cracking voice was muffled against his hard chest.

And then, in his painful silence, he cupped your face and pressed his lips against yours.

You did not stop him.

In fact, you couldn’t.

His next kiss was more desperate and frantic than the last, like he was trying to compensate for all the times he had utterly let you down.

When he finally found the self control to pull back, both of you were panting, faces flushed, hearts racing. He looked at you with a mix of fear, guilt, and longing in his eyes. He wiped your damp cheeks, cupping the sides of your face.

"I don’t mean to," He whispered. “I-I swear, everything I said, I-“

You shook your head in denial, wanting to just shut him up with more kisses knowing if you both talked, you’d eventually argue.

For once, you didn’t want to fight. If the relationship was crashing and burning right now, might as well get one last lick out of it, right?

Metaphorically, and quite literally.

San groaned softly into your mouth, his hands coming up to tangle in your hair and snake to the small of your back as he deepened the kiss with his tongue.

"You drive me insane," He breathed against her lips, breaking the kiss to look into her eyes.

It was true, you always had, in the best and worst ways possible. The feeling was mutual as you stared back at him.

He couldn't resist your pull, the way you were in the moment consumed him entirely. His hands roamed your curves, and reached down to grip your ass firmly as he walked you backwards towards the couch.

You let out a soft gasp, your fingers digging into his waist as you let yourself get sat down with him positioned above you. His knee perched up right between your slightly parted legs.

The friction his knee brushing between your legs sent a jolt of desire straight to your core. He could feel your pulse quickening, and your breath hitching as he sucked and kissed the sides of your neck.

Your hands slipped beneath his black shirt, seeking for skin. With a slight eager tug, he took it off without any argument, revealing his lean muscled torso that you did not hesitate to touch and admire knowing it was going to be the last time.

Instead of letting that knowledge crush you or him, with a low moan, he just leaned into your touch.

“Tell me to stop…” He breathed out, hands on your shoulders to steady himself. He struggled to maintain control as his arousal throbbed against the inside of his zipper.

“Keep going.” You replied in a husky whisper.

With a groan, he gave in to the temptation. His tongue met yours, as his hands slid down to your chest to cup your breasts through the thin fabric of your top, having to bite back a smirk when your back arched into his technique.

Your nimble fingers freed him from his jeans. Unbuttoning, and then zipping down before massaging his hard on through the fabric of his underwear. A breath of relief escaped his lips when his throbbing cock was finally freed.

He helped you out of your top, watching you stroke his impressive length in your hands from above. His hands glided down your back and unclasped your bra, letting your breast sit in all its glory.

He was going to take care of you first until your mouth engulfed him without missing a beat.

“O-oh my god.” His hips bucked involuntarily forward as your skilled hand continued to stroke, the dual sensations of her and her fingers wrapped around his member threatening to overwhelm him.

San’s eyes rolled back as you took him entirely into your mouth. His body weight leaning on his forearms that were on either sides of your head, holding onto the back of the couch for dear life.

Your skilled tongue and throat working in tandem to bring him to the brink of madness. The wet heat blanketing his aching cock was almost too much to bear, each bob of her head sent him more and more over the edge.

"Oh f-fuck!” His mouth hung open as he fisted your hair and fought the urge to thrust deeper.

A part of him couldn’t make sense why this was happening now of all times. He could’ve just taken your desperation to touch him for granted but something about it didn’t feel right.

With effort and a hell lot of focus, San gently stopped you before he could cum. He stroked the side of your face when you looked up at him confused. He shot one of the sweetest dimpled smiles at you.

Seeing that dimpled smile light up your face.

With a hand behind your head, he laid you back on the couch gently. Your hands politely stayed on your own chest, cupping them as you watched his next move.

In one swift motion, he tugged down your underwear with your pyjama shorts and tossed them away.

One of your legs get thrown over his shoulder, and he used his other hand to part your leg wider. His head moved down to your glistening sex and his tongue licked a strip up your folds.

Air got caught in your throat. You let out a shaking deep breath through your lips. His hand on your thigh moved up to your chest, intertwining his fingers with your fingers against your racing heartbeat.

You gripped onto his fingers every time he’d do something that sent shockwaves through your body either with his lips, tongue or his nose. He kissed your sensitive clit, alternating his tongue between that and pounding into your entrance.

“San,” You whined, which only encouraged him to keep going. You tilted your chin upwards, facing the ceiling as tears began welling in your eyes. Unclear if it was the pleasure or the sinking feeling in the out of your stomach.

Then you felt that body shock again, jolting you as you let out a loud moan.

You met his eyes. Those cat-like eyes staring back at you between your legs with laser focus before lazily shutting when he turned his head to the side to lap up your slick arousal from the inner part of your thighs.

He got up and took off his underwear before hovering on-top of you, centring his hard shaft just past your entrance as he supported himself up by the armrest behind your head.

His chain necklace to drop down and dangle in your face.

He gazed into your eyes, reaching down to rub your slick folds once more. He leaned down to kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips as he readjusted his hard dick between your legs. Your hands wrapped themselves in the dip of his waist as your knees pressed against his hips.

“We can’t keep fighting forever,” You told him in a faint whisper.

Leaning down, he distracted you by capturing your lips into a tender loving kiss to slowly pushed in. He felt your teeth on his lip as your walls adjusted to him.

“I know.” Was all he could murmur against your face as a hand cupped one side of your face.

He kept having your lips in between his as he started to move, his hips rolling in a slow rhythm designed to slowly ease into you. Small gasps escaped your lips and you clutched onto his biceps for support while your neck stretched upwards.

“Baby, you feel incredible.” He picked up the pace slightly, his thrusts growing deeper, and more insistent, as he chased the intense feeling coursing through him.

The way your body clenched around his length, the soft gasps falling from your lips.

With your moans of approval, he seized the opportunity to go even deeper and quicken the pace in your wet welcoming heat. He pulled in your mouth for intoxicating searing kisses he couldn’t get enough of.

“I miss you,” You whimpered out the truth between the kisses. “S-so much.”

He snapped forward with new determination accentuated by the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each other.

He let go of your mouth to focus on your chest. "I'm right here baby." He mumbled over your breasts as he cupped one in his large hands, brushing over your nipples before reaching down to lick.

He alternates between wet kisses and whirling his tongue, aimed to only give you pleasure. In his defence, he hasn't had the opportunity to do this in a while.

You grabbed a side of his face to look into his lustful eyes. “I really did love you.” You breathed out.

“I love you too.” He replied, too entranced by the moment to catch that single word in your sentence.

You crashed your lips against his. The technique of his kissing made you moan loudly into his mouth, and then against his jaw with your eyes shut when he was hitting the perfect spot over and over.

Your body was tensing up tighter and tighter as the pressure of the inside you. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, ready to shatter into a million pieces at any moment.

“I’m close,” San panted. “Come for me. Come first.”

As a result of his husky words, your walls clench around him, and your climax comes crashing in. One passionate thrust as he buried himself inside your convulsing sex, the intense orgasm shook your entire body violently.

While your final convulsions faded, you slumped against the couch, panting heavily. Meanwhile, San rode off your enjoyment only to abruptly slip out of you before blowing a load inside you without a condom on.

He released himself from your legs that were wrapped around him and hurried to your nearby bathroom, his hard-on in his hands.

You lay there in a daze, trying to make sense of everything, feeling a mix of confusion and shame. You covered your face with your hands, desperate to hide from the reality of the situation.

Slowly, you pulled yourself up from the leather couch to sit up, its surface sticking a little to your sweaty skin, before you reached for your underwear lying forgotten at your feet.

You managed to get most of your clothes back on when he returned. The sight of him—his broad athletic build and that confident stride—distracted you just long enough for him to lean down and kiss you, his hands gently resting on the side of your neck.

You instinctively covered his hand with your own, locking eyes with him.

“Are you okay?” His voice was soft.

You stayed quiet for a moment, the weight of his question sinking in.

He kissed you again, his lips warm and insistent, and for a moment, the thoughts swirling in your head began to fade.

Before you knew it, he lowered himself down onto the floor across from you, wanting to pull you on top of him to straddle him.

“Stop. No more.” you murmured, pushing him away gently.

Your heart pounding as your knees pressed against the hardwood floors when you realised you were already sitting on his thighs.

San sharply sighed, a little disappointed, but he didn’t fight it. He let go of his grip on your waist, and you slowly kicked yourself off him.

The two of you lay on the floor, side by side, your breaths finally slowing after whatever that was. The silence between you wasn’t comforting in the slightest.

He reached for his underwear with his feet, slipping it on slowly, his eyes never leaving you. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was going on.

You turned your head to look at him. His eyes turned to the ceiling, his expression unreadable, distant even though he was right there.

“San,” you began softly, your voice breaking the stillness. “I think we—”

His phone buzzed, cutting through the tension, and he glanced at it with another sigh. You felt the moment slip away as he got up and fumbled for his phone left in his pants by the couch.

“It’s Mingi,” he muttered.

“San,” you tried again, your tone heavier this time, begging for his attention. But he’d already answered the call.

You stayed on the floor, your chest tightening as fragments of their conversation reached your ears.

“Dude, what? I’m in the middle of… Huh? No, I haven’t heard from her,” San said, his tone sharp but tinged with concern. “She’s been dodging everyone since that night at Yeosang’s when you wouldn’t shut up about your conquests.”

Your frown deepened as you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch him. His brows furrowed, his full attention on the call like you weren’t even there.

“Well, maybe you should go check on her then,” San said, leaning back against the couch. “What, come over? Her place or yours?”

A pause, then his expression shifted—confusion, followed by clear exasperation.

San ran a hand through his messy hair. “Fine, whatever. I’ll come over later.” He hung up, tossing the phone onto the floor like it had personally wronged him.

“Mingi needs help with something,” he said it like that was enough explanation.

You stared at him, baffled and angry, “So you’re going?”

He turned to you, guilt flashing briefly in his eyes before he looked away. “I don’t have a choice,” he said quietly.

The words hit you like a slap, but what was worse than the sting was the inevitability that this was always how it would be. You, waiting for scraps of his time, his attention. Him, running off to play hero for everyone but you.

“San,” you said, your voice trembling. “You always have a choice. You just never choose me.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” You shot back. “You couldn’t even let me finish breaking up with you before answering his call.”

“What? It’s not like that. This is serious to him—he really likes her—”

“Save it,” you cut him off, your voice sharp. “Since you’re always serious about everyone else, just go.”

He hesitated, his hand hovering near his phone. “You’re being—”

“Go,” you repeated firmly, tears welling in your eyes but your tone unwavering. “And don’t ever come back this time.”

For a moment, he looked like he wanted to defend himself, or to stay, but then he stood up. He pulled the rest of his clothes back on, grabbed his phone, and shoved it into his back pocket without a word.

He glanced at you on his way out, his gaze searching for something, anything, to make this easier. He convinced himself he’d call you tomorrow, that this wasn’t really goodbye like the other times you both have tried to end it. He didn’t realize how serious you were this time.

He walked past the shards and the broom and left. The door clicked shut behind him.

[pedrosgrogu]

Born Too Late - Chapter 8

pairing/au: neighbor!joel x reader // no outbreak

Chapter 7 - Chapter 9 - Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI!! female masturbation, lots of angst, loss of parents mentioned, family issues, lots of tears

Summary: You prepare for Thanksgiving with Tommy and he catches you at an emotional point. Thats what friends are for, right? (1.2k+)

a/n: ok idk how this is gonna go over with yall but be gentle because this came to me in a dream, and through validation from @smellslikenevermore. i really dont have much else to say bc this shit is about to get juicy so buckle the fuck up. leave feedback, i rely on strangers validation because im not normal. xoxox

p.s. there will be another chapter posted at some point today, i just didnt want this one to be like 4k words lol.

Your phone rings, jolting you awake. You spit out a groggy “Hello?”. “Hey pretty lady” soft and southern, it warms you like a physical embrace. “Tommy. It is so early.” you say, rolling over and looking at the clock. “I know but I’ve gotta run to the store to grab some stuff for tomorrow, and wanted to beat the crowds. I was gonna see if you wanted to tag along.” You sigh, throwing the blankets off. “Sarah’s gonna come too if that makes it any more enticing.” he says, laughing.  “Yeah why not, give me about 20 minutes and I’ll be over.” 

You open your curtains, just like you do at the begining of every day. Joel’s are still closed, and have been for weeks now. You remember the first night you moved in and how both of your windows were the focal point of the evening. You walk into your bathroom and turn the shower on, extra hot. The steam filling the room makes you sweat, reminding you of your nights with Joel. Sweaty and suffocating. You strip down and walk to your bedside table, pulling out your vibrator. The numbing vibration on your clit makes you cum almost immediately, and the only noise heard is Joel’s name. Over and over. You cant seem to stop yourself, the relief each time better than the last. Imagining the way his fingers fit perfectly inside you, how his teeth left every inch of your skin nipped with passion, how his voice talked you through every step. Time has stopped and the shower is no longer steaming into your room. Your release on the horizon, you’re seeing stars and imagining every position Joel could put you in- KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. And its gone. As quickly as it came, its gone. You throw your toy in frustration, and throw a robe on. You make your way to the door, opening it to see Tommy and Sarah. “Woah lady!” Tommy says, shielding his eyes. “You said 20 minutes 30 minutes ago, what the hell have you been doin? I tried to call!” he says, making Sarah laugh. “Just wait on the couch. Ill be out in 10.” You say, closing the door behind them and walking to your room. You dont remember hearing your phone ring but then again, you were on a different planet, and time was non-existent. 

Piled into Tommys truck, the 3 of you head to H-E-B. “Alright, I’ve gotta get some beer, some celery, and some bread for the stuffing.” You throw your head in Tommys direction, with a look of playful disgust. “Tommy Miller, how is it the day before Thanksgiving and you dont have the main ingredient for stuffing?” you retort, giving him a light slap on the arm. “Listen, I don’t do the shoppin, blame my brother.” he says. You turn around, looking at Sarah. “And what did you forget?” you say smiling. “I wanted to make chocolate covered strawberries so chocolate and strawberries!” She says excitedly. “That sounds good Sarah! Let me know if you need any help.”  You write 2 lists, handing one to Tommy and keeping one for yourself. He’s in charge of beer and non-perishables. You’re in charge of perishables and wine.

In the store you both grab carts, and go in your separate directions. You grab Sarahs strawberries, Tommys celery, and sweet potatoes for yourself. If theres on thing you can cook, its a mean sweet potato casserole. You head to the alcohol aisle and meet up with Tommy, checking off both your lists. You grab 4 bottles of wine, 2 reds and 2 whites. “Does Joel even know Im coming?” you ask Tommy, watching Sarah grab marshmallows off the endcap a few feet in front of you. “Yeah, I told him.” Tommy says, not saying anything else. You’re trying to gauge his facial expression surrounding the question. “What did he-” “I got the marshmallows!” Sarah says, throwing them into the cart. You leave your sentence unfinished, checking off the rest of the list. 

The ride back is silent, Tommy keeps looking at you like he has something to say but he doesnt. You try not to think about tomorrow, unsure of if being alone is worse than being around Joel. Tears begin to well in your eyes right as you turn onto your street. You force them to stay put, helping Tommy unload the groceries. You help carry everything in with the exception of your things for tomorrow. Walking into the house, you’re immediately paralyzed by the smell, by his  smell. Sarah runs past you, into his arms. “Hi daddy! We went to the store and we got the stuff for my strawberries!” “Thats great babygirl.” he says, kissing her forehead. The tears are back, and theres no forcing them away this time. Your brain is flooded with images of childhood holidays with your family, back when everything was seemingly normal and everyone got along. You feel a tear fall down your cheek as you set the groceries on the island. The same island that he ravaged you on. You look up at him, hoping for any hint of how hes feeling, hoping he’ll pull you into him and wipe your tears, and tell you that everything is okay. But his facial expression is stoic, and he doesn’t move. No sign of any emotion. You wipe your tears and head straight for the door. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow!” you exclaim, trying to hide the pain in your voice. Pulling the door behind you before anything else is said. 

You grab your groceries out of the back of Tommys truck and trudge home. You fucking hate the holidays, they havent been the same in years. You turn the key to open your door, and feel a hand on your shoulder. “Sweet girl, whats goin’ on?” and you lose it. 

You drop the groceries and throw yourself into Tommys arms, sobbing uncontrollably. You hear the glass of the wine bottles shatter. “Shhhhh” he says, one hand holding your head, the other rubbing your back. After a couple minutes, you gather yourself and walk inside, leaving the broken glass on your porch and the groceries on the floor inside the door. 

“The holidays are just hard Tommy.” you say, sniffling. Hes in your kitchen putting groceries away. “Trust me, I know. I aint had a mama or daddy to spend the holidays with the last 10 years. And then Connie and Sarah came along, and then Connie left.” You dont say anything, but assume Connie is Sarahs mom. This is the first time either of the men have spoke about her, at least in front of you. You elaborate on your family as well. About how your father in convinced that your ex was the second coming of Christ, and was the best thing that had ever happened to you. About how it was his way or the highway. About his patriarchal ways in the goddamn 21st century. He sits beside you and just holds you again. Your tears slowly stop, but the feeling of sadness and emptiness still resides. You look up at Tommy and hes staring through you. His eyes a deep brown like his brothers, and before you know it his lips are on yours. And you dont pull away.

[c-cal]

Pretty brunette boy..

Short lil cute fic , first time doing one like this . Ib this fic by @reallife6anoufriev6boy6 ( please tell me if u don't wanna be tagged )

Content / summary : Soft makeout sesh , lil spicy ig ? Idk but it's switch ! Andre and sub ! Cal ( I feel like I'm degrading myself writing this but oh well 😋 ) w a lil bit of grinding and cute aftercare lol

No tq for the actual fic bc uh yeah ?? Idk

"Cal.." Andre spoke softly. His voice like music to Cal's ears. The blonde was kissing up Andre's neck, leaving a few little bite marks as well.

Cal let out a breathless giggle. "Yes..?" He grinned, his eyes buried in Andre's neck, his mouth just visible enough for Andre to see it.

"Fuckk..." Andre trailed off, euphoria washing over him. It felt like nothing could go wrong, like he was complete.

Andre moved his shoulder out slightly to get the boy to look at him. They locked eyes and just stared for a moment. Immersing themselves in one another.

Andre's eyes trailed up and down Cal's body, almost as if he was analysing it. He looked to his eyes, then back down at his lips. They were parted ever so slightly.

"You're such a tease, y'know that?" Andre put his large and veiny hand behind the blonde's ear, moving his hair out of the way and holding the back of his neck.

He quickly did the same with his other hand, pulling Cal in in a warm and fulfilling kiss. Passion was thick in the air as the boys lips met. Andre biting down a little on Cal's lower lip, as a sort of way to "get back" at him for biting his neck.

Cal's hands made their way to Andre's torso and he rested them on his hips, leaning into the kiss the same way a baby would feed from a bottle, bobbing closer and farther.

Andre broke the kiss for a moment, taking off his shirt to reveal his abs and Cal was quick to do the same.

In a moment's notice Andre pushed Cal down to lie on his back, his hands grabbing some of the blonde's hair before slamming his lips onto Cal's.

Cal wrapped his arms around Andre's neck in a criss cross manner, holding him tight in this rough, yet gentle moment.

Andre back tracks and makes his way down to Cal's waist near the top of his jeans. Cal looks down at him with a smirk.

Andre goes up Cal's torso, leaving a trail of kisses along the way. He makes his way to his shoulders, biting down gently, leaving a small hickey. Andre was always scared to bite him too hard, he didn't want to hurt him.

Cal reached his left arm over and grabbed a handful of Andre's hair.

"P-please.." Cal groaned out slightly, Andre knew exactly what he wanted.

Their bodies slam together in a warm embrace, Cal gently grinding down against Andre's thigh whilst Andre gives him kisses and hickeys all over.

"F-fuck...." Cal whined. It was pretty obvious what had happened.

"I-i'm sorry, 'Dre.." The blonde groaned out, his hands now covering his face in embarrassment.

"Hey, hey. It's okay." Andre reassured him.

Cal dropped his hands off his face and sighed.

The boys cleaned themselves up and watched a movie afterwards, Cal sitting in Andre's lap.

"I love you." Cal said softly.

"I love you too, Cal."

———————————————————————————

MWAHHAHAH JM DO PROUD OF THIS ???? y'all lmk if I should do more ^_^ also not my dividers btw I don't remember where I got them but creds go to their rightful owner 👍👍

[1-800-i-ship-it]

OMG WHAT FOR ME Im so honored omggg

TYSM <33

And When You Go Away

Batman and Nightwing did not work together frequently. That wasn’t to say they didn’t see each other. Or interact. It was hard, really, as they both worked with the Justice League now, to avoid the other. Just as it was hard, for Bruce at least, to pretend like they were mere acquaintances. Barely colleagues, hardly friends. Definitely not family. Not since Bruce had messed it all up. It hit him especially hard at times like these, when lives were on the line, and everyone was called to action, and Nightwing stepped up to lead. The way he always did. The way Bruce had trained him to. 

“We need a perimeter here, here and here.” Nightwing placed his fingers on the map, derogating quickly.  “Superman, I need an immediate evac of the West side,” Clark nodded, and was out the window in a flash. “Green Lantern help out with that, Flash, and any speedsters, I need you over in the North. We can’t leave any civilians in danger.” Superman, Green Lantern, Flash, the other speedsters, Wonder Woman, Green Arrow, all the older, more experienced, founders, all nodded, all obeyed his orders.

“Batman,” At his name, Nightwing finally hesitated, slowed, a break in his otherwise perfect mask. “Batman, you and me will defend the front.” He finally settled on, not looking up from the plans. If any other hero caught the repetition or hesitation, they didn’t show it, zipping off to follow their own orders.

Bruce fell into step beside his son Nightwing as he marched for the doors, heading to the front of battle. “I can be somewhere else.” he offered quietly, barely louder than a whisper, definitely not loud enough to be heard above the din of battle and battle preparations.

Still, Nightwing scoffed, charging his escrima sticks with a quick pump of his arms. “Don’t insult me. I can be professional. Besides, it’d be stupid to waste an asset somewhere else.” Bruce took the blows without comment or wince, merely nodded.

Despite the distance, despite their recent… space, it was almost scary how effortlessly they fell back into routine, fighting side by side the way they used to.

Nightwing called out “Back!” and suddenly he was eleven again, bright red shorts on and a massive smile, as he instructed Bruce to bend forward, the way his father had used to, so he could use him as a springboard against oncoming attackers.

It was a testament to Dicks skills that Bruce hardly felt him, a gentle brush of fingertips on his shoulders and then he was gone, soaring over his head, fists slamming into threats, shredding them apart.

The battle was over quicker than expected, and Bruce almost forgot, almost wrapped Dick in a hug, almost joked with him. But the flash of blue was jarring enough so that he caught himself, pulling away.

“Nice work Nightwing.” He muttered gruffly instead, ignoring the way Nightwing arched at the words, chest puffing out, standing taller on instinct, before he clamped it down, slouching once more.

“Yeah. Thanks. You too.” He bit out, before stalking off towards Flash and Arrow, a dismissal that hurt more than Bruce thought it would, after so many.

He slunk off to the other side, helping to tie up loose ends and clean up, before retiring back to the cave. He almost waited, head tilted to listen for the sound of a roaring engine, before he caught himself, slipping off the mask and cape, and draping them over a chair.

“Did you see Master Grayson today, Master Bruce?” Alfred asked, balancing a tray of tea on the table, trying, and failing, at subtlety.

Bruce rubbed his chin, staring at the empty white lenses of the green mask, illuminated in the display case. The light of the cave reflected off the glass, and Bruce swore the red seemed almost… blue.

“Master Bruce?” Alfred repeated. Bruce started, wiping at his eyes as he cleared his throat, turning.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Sorry Alf...” He headed to the table to grab a cup of tea, glancing back only once.

The edges of the mask were crinkled, as though the phantom ghost of laughter still haunted them. “Yeah. I did.” 

@1-800-i-ship-it -you asked for bruce and dick, and you shall recieve! It's not entirely a long fic, or very detailed, but I tried, and was inspired by the song "sunsetz" by cigarettes after sex, i think it really works for Dick and Bruce. Anyway, hope you enjoyed and I made your day at least a lil better :) hopefully at least not worse lol

[mint-fixates]

I want to make an AU where Bill was never evil but his personality is still the same outside of that so the Pines twins show up to stay with their Great Uncle Stanford and he introduces them to his husband who's just. A funky little chaotic triangle creature from another dimension. He gives them deer teeth as welcome presents and both he and Ford (who is extremely accustomed to his weirdness after 30 years together) act like that's a Perfectly Normal Thing to Do. Dipper is LOSING it, Mabel is LOVING it (she makes a necklace and earrings out of them)

[aro-laurance-zvahl]

“We’ve got him, we’ve finally got him!” The captain sounds near hysterical as he heard the news, the right hand man of the local mafia boss had finally slipped up.

Thoughts and possibilities are flooding through his mind, he thinks of how much it would take to make the man turn on his boss. Immunity? Witness protection? Whatever it takes, he thinks they can manage it. Of course he will probably walk back onto the streets, but he’ll mess up again and that time he’ll have nothing useful to follow.

The detective eyed his boss nervously, face twisted in a grimace as he tried to stamp out the excitement, “Sir you must let me finish, you don’t understand-“

“What don’t I understand? We’ve got motive, the weapon, it was even caught on tape! We’ve got him!” The captain waved his hands wildly, desperate to hold on to this piece of hope.

“He said whoopsie, clear as day, before the victim even hit the ground,” The detective averted his gaze as he saw his captain’s face fall in realization, “It’s on the tape, no lawyer worth their salt would miss it,”

The captain’s expression slowly morphed into rage, fists curling before colliding them with the desk, “Goddammit! He can’t keep getting away with this!”

“He’s the best for a reason,” Is the only piece of consolation the detective can offer, but the helplessness to stop this monster still plagued them both.

Curse the cosmic law of whoopsie.

[chitsangenthusiast]

red is to spider-man as pink is to miles, in that pink is the color of: self-expression, confidence, compassion. if you side with miles, if you want to support his growth, you're going to be in pink

that being said...a pink robe can be removed, and pink hairdye can be washed out

[stuckinapril]

I genuinely love not having a crush like I’m not over here feeling physically sick over some mid guy being dry to me I’m literally chilling

[deoidesign]

For my birthday... read my webcomic! It's literally free! (Unless you want books. Those are not free)

It's beautiful, it's gentle, it's funny, they're canonically t4t and gay... And it's about time traveling vampires solving supernatural mysteries!

I've spent thousands of hours writing and drawing it, and it's really good! I'm not biased!

It's on hiatus right now and coming back in 2 months, so it's the perfect time to get caught up

[mattodore]

birthday boy 🎂

[secrescaryat]

// pentiment spoilers (implied ig but still there)

more of these because i was inspired

[harbingersglory]

{☆} characters arlecchino {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader, transfem arlecchino {☆} warnings 18+ content, breeding kink, degradation, stomach bulge, dacryphilia, restraints

"Arle, hah..please. I can't– I can't wait any longer."

The pleading, almost pouty, words had her letting out a deep, husky chuckle as she fiddled with the buckle of her belt, admiring your body as she stepped up to the bed. Her knee sank into the mattress as she knelt down, pressing a placating kiss to your brow and gesturing for you to turn over.

"Come on, dove. Be a good girl, or I'll treat you like the whore you are." Arlecchino clicked her tongue, firmly grabbing your hands and tightening her belt around your wrists, giving the leather a firm tug to test its strength– and to make sure it wasn't too tight. "I'm in a good mood. Don't spoil it by being a brat, little dove."

The pout it drew from you made her grin, canines flashing beneath her lips as she settled in behind you, cupping your ass in her calloused hands with an appreciative grumble. Your panties were already sticking to your cunt, the fabric soaked. She couldn't help but drag one of her digits across the fabric, teasing your folds beneath it.

"Lucky I adore that pretty mouth of yours or I'd have cut out your tongue," She gruffly spoke, her tone neither in jest or too serious– perhaps she would, maybe she wouldn't. She liked to keep you on your toes. "Hm. Maybe I'll use your throat after– shut you up properly. You look so pretty gagging on my cock, you know?"

Arlecchino slid her fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, tugging them down just enough to see your slick cunt, her fingers pulling the folds apart. Fuck, she could feel her cock throbbing against her boxers at the sight– she'd never get tired of it, just like she'd never get tired of using you like a toy.

"But in the meantime.." She finally pulled down her own boxers, her aching cock slipping free and slapping against your thigh– she slid right between your thighs, forcing you to squeeze them together around her. "Fuck, that's it." She growled, pumping her hips a few times before she was satisfied, lining up her cock with your entrance.

She had the decency, at least, to sink in slowly at first..let you adjust to her size for a brief moment before she snapped her hips forward and sank fully into your cunt with a sharp hiss.

Arlecchino typically enjoyed teasing you first, making you practically beg just for her to give you her cock at all, but she had other plans tonight– she wasn't going to waste time playing around this time. Her hand slipped down to your stomach pressed against the mattress, a low chuckle building in her chest at the distinct bulge her cock left. It was a wonder she fit at all– but she'd make it fit even if she hadn't.

"Be a good girl now and don't complain." She grumbled, leaning down to press you down into the mattress with her body, nipping at your ear before she pulled her hips back, hissing at the way you clenched around her in response. She took a moment to sit there, letting you ruminate and squirm at the lack of movement– only to grab a fistful of hair and start pounding you into the mattress before you can even think to whine about her lack of movement.

How quickly, how easily, you turn into a blubbering mess as she uses you like a toy for her own enjoyment. Not that you won't enjoy what she has in plan for you– just maybe not as much as she does. The mental image of filling you with her cum..it drives her thrusts harder, faster. She wants to fuck you stupid with her cock, fill you to the breaking point until her cum pools on the sheets, unable to be fully plugged up. Just the idea of watching her cum dripping down your thighs makes her control slip just the slightest bit.

She's already big enough to bulge your stomach with every thrust, but she wonders if she can push it further.

She certainly wants to, and she intends to.

The fat tears rolling down your cheeks only got her more excited, her hands gripping your hips so tight she can already imagine the bruises in the shape of her fingers against your skin.

"That's it, dove, give in," Arlecchino hissed, a low growl rumbling in her chest as she continued to pound into them relentlessly, her thighs already stinging from the sheer force of it. "Fucking take it, you whore."

Her muscles flexed in faint restraint, the shifting of your arms against her as you nearly screamed at the intense rush of pleasure making her sink her teeth into your shoulder in warning– a futile effort, really, as your body twitched when you came so hard she briefly considered if she had to stop..but you were still moaning even through the tears rolling down your cheeks, rocking back into her thrusts weakly, unable to keep up.

She wasn't too far behind, either. Her teeth dug deeper into your skin, muffling the growl as she plunged into your soaking wet cunt, bucking into you in much shorter thrusts until she finally felt her cum spilling into you. It was almost enough to send her over the edge again– fuck, you were practically sucking her in with how tight you were, squeezing around her cock.

Her head slumped against your shoulder as she pulled her teeth from your skin, taking a moment of respite to catch her breath and let the sting and ache settle in deep– she welcomed it, if anything. But she wasn't done.

She was going to fuck you till you were full– fill you up until she couldn't fit another drop.

For now..she pulled out, admiring the way her cum dribbled out of you. She didn't mind all that much..she was going to replace it tenfold, anyway.

She couldn't wait to plug you up and see you squirm during the meeting tomorrow, full of her cum and unable to find relief– maybe she'd make it a toy, see how long you last before someone realizes what's going on. She was going to enjoy it thoroughly.