#if you read this entire essay in the tags ... girl why

[nereidprinc3ss]

relax

in which spencer helps university student reader de-stress after a particularly exhausting assignment

18+ (smut) warnings: fingering, overstimulation, happy crying, lowkey softdom spencer, slight d/s dynamics, reader is referred to as a girl, ????idk i've never had to tag for smut before lols wc: 2624 a/n: been doing some insane literary cooking. lots of smut AND more fluff in the works (all uni reader... lol... ). idk if i love this but again need to fucking get it out of my word doc so here u go, PLEASE lmk if you like it!!

You don’t even realize the room has gone completely dark until Spencer comes in the front door and flicks on the light. 

“Why did you do that?” you snap immediately, looking up from your laptop screen for the first time in potentially hours, blinking hard as your eyes painfully adjust. Your boyfriend gives you an odd look. 

“Hello to you too...” 

“I’m sorry. Hi. How was dinner?” 

“It was good,” he says, crossing the room to the couch that has been your entire world for the past five hours. You sigh, releasing some of the tension in your shoulders when he leans down to kiss your head and set down a to-go box on the coffee table. “Have you moved since I left?” 

“...no,” you admit, moving your eyes dejectedly to the keyboard.  

“You made progress,” he appeases, leaning over you to angle the laptop upward. Immediately you wrench it away, holding it protectively against your chest. 

“Stop! I don’t want you to read it yet!” 

“I could help you with it though,” he pleads, bracing a hand on the arm of the couch. You look up into his hazel eyes, where he’s definitely playing up the puppy dog factor. His tie brushes your stomach, and he smells like lavender and clove and-- 

“You need to go away,” you realize, snapping back to reality and shrinking into the couch, away from him—trying to escape his all-encompassing sensory presence.  

“Wh- I just got back!” he scoffs, straightening. 

“You’re distracting me,” you accuse, throwing him a baleful look. 

“I’m literally offering to help you.” 

“And I’m respectfully declining because I care too much about your opinion to show you this essay until it’s less terrible. I really just need a couple more hours to finish it, please?” 

Spencer sighs, regarding your pitiful state before moving to sit down next to you. Automatically you move your legs out of the way before settling them in his lap and damn it he’s supposed to be going away. Your iron grip on the laptop involuntarily loosens a little as his hands begin to run back and forth over your legs. No—you must stay focused.  

“Spencer,” you whine, flopping your head back. You let the implied complaint hang in the air. 

“You’ve been writing all day. Your brain is exhausted, and your synapses aren’t firing at a rate that is intellectually productive.” 

“What is the point of having a brain if I can’t even use it half the time!” you almost-shout, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes until you see fireworks.  

The couch shifts and you feel the warm, robotic weight of the laptop unpin you as Spencer lifts it from your lap. “Don’t read it,” you beg, watching through parted fingers as he sets it on the coffee table, and relaxing slightly when he settles back into the couch.  

“Come here,” he says, holding out an arm. Too mentally exhausted to do anything but comply, you pull yourself up just enough to fall into him. Immediately he wraps his arms around you, one hand slipping under your shirt to rub your back in hypnotizing passes. “I think you burnt yourself out,” he mutters. 

You nod into his shoulder, surrendering yourself to his warmth, letting yourself sink into a lavender-clove fog, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into it. The darkness behind your eyes glows an inviting amber, threatening to pull you under...  

But the essay... 

“Stop thinking about the essay,” he demands. 

“But I have so much to do,” you sigh against his jacket, the words coming out muffled. 

“The best thing you can do now is give your brain a rest. I promise you you’re not making that paper any better if you’re exhausted.” 

“I am not exhausted,” you insist, although your eyes are still closed, “I’m just really stressed.”  

Spencer hums, continuing to rub your back.  

“Do you need me to help you relax?” he says innocently. 

Oh? 

One of your eyes opens to peer up at him suspiciously. He sweeps some of your hair out of your face. 

“Because I would be happy to.” A moment passes—him looking down at you fondly; you wondering if you’re picking up what he’s putting down. 

“And how would you go about doing that?” you ask suspiciously. 

“Orgasms reduce tension and stress and improve brain function.” 

Damn. Why did the nerdiest, most un-sexy pickup line ever just turn you on?

You groan, burying your face further into his shirt—mostly to hide any trace of a blush. 

“You know what else would reduce stress and improve brain functioning? Taking an Adderall and finishing my fucking essay.”  

“Angel, you're such a smart girl, and you are fully capable of doing whatever you set your mind to—but I will lock your laptop in my gun safe before I let you look at that essay again tonight.” He speaks so softly, and his fingers are still gently combing through your messy hair... all in all, you put up a good fight, right? Maybe you should just listen to him...

“... fine.” you say eventually, reluctant to give in too quickly even though the idea quickly has filled your stomach with butterflies. 

“Fine?” he says, pausing his motions as you turn your head just enough to look up at him. “Sounds like you don’t really want it, baby. Maybe we should just go to sleep. Or I could take you back to your-” 

“Spence,” you whine, gently grabbing the front of his shirt. Now he’s going to make you beg? As if it wasn’t his idea? Those puppy dog eyes of his are deceiving. 

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” he sighs, hand moving from your hair to your outer thigh. 

“Please?” you whisper, dignity forgotten as you look up at him imploringly. 

“Lean back, sweet girl,” he says, helping you adjust your position til you’re lying against his chest, legs sprawled across the couch. Your head lolls on his shoulder, intoxicated by his close proximity. “Perfect. Such a good listener.” 

Normally, you’d be quick to make a defensive remark, but with the way he’s slowly hiking your shirt up, running his hands over your sides so lightly it gives you goosebumps—you're really in no position to argue. Your eyes flutter shut as his hands grow bolder in their explorations, crossing your stomach, fingers just slipping under the waistband of your shorts and skimming over your hipbones before coming back up. 

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs, and you nod lazily, apparently losing access to your language facilities after running them dry all day. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem good enough for your boyfriend. “Do you remember when the last time I touched you like this was?” 

Through the hazy blur of your exhaustion, you try to think back. Was it... two days ago? Three? More? 

“Almost a week ago,” he supplies the answer for you when you take too long. What? That can’t be right. 

But when you think about it harder... it is right. It was right before finals week started.  

An errant hand straying up your torso distracts you. “Do you remember what I did?” 

You flush. 

“You... yeah,” is the best you can offer, too flustered to say exactly what he did to your body. That stray hand moves over your breast. Your back arches just slightly at the stimulation through the thin fabric of your bra.  

Thankfully, he lets you off the hook.  

“I made you cum three times, right?” 

“Mhm,” you hum through closed lips, tense with anticipation as he finally slides both hands down to your shorts and wordlessly directs you to lift your hips so he can pull them all the way off along with your underwear. 

“You’ve been so busy lately, huh. Working so hard.” 

You unconsciously drop your bent legs open, brain too foggy to be insecure about how utterly bare you are—allowing him to slowly rub up and down your inner thigh. 

“I’m gonna make you feel good, honey. I don’t think three times was enough for such a stressful week.” 

You gasp when his fingers finally brush your clit, whimpering slightly when they just barely skim your entrance before tracing the wetness back up.  

“Give me your hand,” Spencer says, taking his own from between your legs and holding it up. You don’t even think about it, releasing your grip on the arm he now has wrapped around you and holding it out for him. At this point, you’d do anything he tells you to without hesitation.  

He takes the proffered hand, gently guiding it back between your legs. Your fingers meet slick, soft warmth. “Do you feel how wet you are?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe, seeing how your fingers glisten when you pull them away. His remain, running slowly up and down your clit. Your brain seems to be vibrating in your skull as warmth spreads throughout your body. 

“Who’s that for?” 

“You, Spencer,” you whimper. He hums in approval before the room falls into silence as you both watch his teasing intently, your breath baited as you try to be patient. But your body isn’t with the program, you keep twisting slightly, your hips cant upward. “Please, please,” the words escape on a held exhalation as you finally break, arching your back against him as your search for more friction.  

Without warning, he sinks two fingers inside you. The slight stretch after not having taken anything in a week scratches an itch you didn’t even know you had, and you let out a broken moan. 

“I know, honey. You’re so good, I know.” Spencer kisses your head as he speaks over your cry, barely moving his fingers for a few moments while you get comfortable. 

Still you’re not ready for it when he withdraws and pushes back in. 

“Look at that,” he breathes. 

“Oh, fuck,” you choke, watching how your arousal completely coats his fingers as he slowly, slowly begins to fuck you with them. 

Again you feel the vibrations in his chest as he laughs slightly—probably at your earlier insistence that you didn’t desperately want this. The laughter fades as you both become entranced by the sight of his fingers disappearing into you, and your stomach twists with pleasure. His pace remains languid, and he seems to delight in the filthy, wet sounds his hand is producing between your legs.  

“You okay, baby?” he asks after a moment, seemingly snapping out of some trance. 

“Uh huh,” you whimper. One particular drag of his fingers at just the right angle has you dizzy, and then he’s speeding up. Your jaw drops at the change in pace and your hips chase his hand, wanting even more. 

“So pretty,” he mutters as his other hand moves to spread you open.  

You attempt to shut your legs around his wrist, but instead he just ruts his fingers deeper into you, palm pressed against your clit. You attempt to twist away from the extreme stimulation, but he doesn’t allow it. 

“Too much,” you squeak, bucking your hips inadvertently. 

“No it’s not,” he states, like you’re talking about the weather. 

“Spencer, I really c- ah- can't!” 

“It feels like a lot, huh?” he asks soothingly, not letting up one bit. 

“Yes!” you cry, eyes stinging as tears begin to well. 

“You’re okay, angel. It’s just been a while.” 

You are so completely fucked. Each stroke of his hand feels like an electric jolt through your whole body. It is too much, but at the same time, pleasure is pooling deep in your stomach and at the base of your spine and you never want him to stop. You throw your head back onto Spencer’s shoulder, eyes screwed shut.  

“Relax,” he mutters, carefully bearing down the pressure across your waist with his arm to try and keep you from squirming. 

A rhythmic whine breaks through the barrier of your sealed lips as you focus all your energy into taking it, when the all-consuming need to kiss him hits you. You twist your neck to look up at him, observing the furrow of his brow and the way he’s tucked his bottom lip into a bite. Thankfully he notices your movement—his eyes dart from your own half-lidded gaze to your lips and he understands what you want. 

The kiss is messy and the angle is awkward and you’re moaning into his mouth half the time anyway, but it feels so good to have his lips moving on yours that you don’t care about any of it.  

“I—ah,” you cry into him, unable to form a coherent thought as your stomach drops like you’re mounting the peak of a roller coaster. 

His fingers again change their angle and he finds the spot inside you that makes your legs spasm. Attempting to hold in whatever noises you were making is now futile—the whimpers and pants turn to full-fledged keening moans interspersed with taut silences as you fail to breathe properly.  

Your wrench your gaze and lips away from Spencer to watch through a blurry haze the rapid movement of his hand between your bare legs, the way your hips buck and twist and the way your leg bends as he hooks his free hand under your knee and hoists it toward your chest. 

“You’re doing so well, honey. Being so good for me.” 

Moisture spills over from your eyes, tracing down your cheeks and down your neck as you begin to come with no warning and a desperate, broken cry. 

A string of praise from Spencer underscores your pleading moans, but you can’t focus on anything other than the buzzing warmth emanating from your core, the bright, pulsing white that blinds you and the feeling of stardust flowing through your veins. 

Your boyfriend continues pumping his fingers slowly in and out of you for a blissful few moments, before sensing the tail-end of your orgasm and bringing his fingers up to rub lazy circles over your clit. Aftershocks resonate from the hypersensitive area and make you clamp your legs shut around his hand as your toes curl and you attempt to squirm out of his grip. 

“Done! I’m done,” you squeak, rocking your hips back and forth to try and escape his toying. 

“Okay, okay,” he soothes, relieving the pressure of his hand between your legs and moving it to run over your stomach as you come down. 

You lie in silence for a minute, enjoying the liquid sensation weighing down your muscles and basking in the warm afterglow of your orgasm.  

“Shit,” you breathe shakily after a moment. Spencer chuckles. You manage to turn yourself over, laying your cheek on his shoulder and slipping your arms under his waist. He looks down at you as he moves on to massaging your back and bare hips, eyes full of warm adoration.  

“Feel better?” 

You hum an affirmation, wiping your eyes on his shirt. 

“Oh, honey, did I make you cry?” 

You laugh into his chest and nod, a few stray tears leaking from your shut eyes. “It’s okay. Not sad tears.” 

“What kind of tears?” 

“Orgasm tears,” you mumble, a tidal wave of exhaustion you’d been fighting all day finally washing over you. 

“That makes sense. Orgasms can be cathartic or even therapeutic depending on your head space. Major losses and life changes are often associated with sexual dysfunction but the opposite is actually just as if not more common. A spike in libido can—” 

Spencer pauses, looking down to see that you’re either asleep or close to it, and smiles to himself. You’ll probably be mad about it when you wake up, but he had to get you to stop thinking about that paper somehow. 

[luvyeni]

HALLUCINATION ,, 양정인

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ jeongins love for you is too strong …  ヾ

stalker!양정인・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ wc ・ ‎3.6k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

𓂃 🎞️ content warning . . . stalking , delusions , jeongin isn’t well at all , sex ( sorta ) , he’s basically in a delusion the entire time he’s with you THIS IS A DARK FIC IF YOU DONT LIKE IT DONT READ IT

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 just something i wrote because hallucination is my favorite solo off the album …

he loved everything about you; the way you looked, when your eyes would crinkle when you smiled. the way you smelled, like warm sugar cookies or vanilla. the way you dress — god he loved the way you dress, the real low waist jeans that showed off your hips, a small heart tattoo on the left side of them; the shirts you wore that accentuate your curves and lifted your boobs

and his absolute favorite was the miniskirts you wore; he hated when you wore them outside, he hated that the people could see such beauty for free. it made him so mad when you’d bend over and all the boys would eye your ass, it made him want to rip their eyes out. you were his, how dare they objectify you like that — they didn’t deserve to see you all dressed up like that , that should be for him, and only him.

he couldn’t look at other girls; they were like blank faces when they tried to talk to him, their voices all sounding the same, which was annoying and screechy. but not you he, he could listen to you talk all the time, no matter the subject. hated them; all of them. he only had eyes for you, he devoted himself to you. “jeongin what are you staring at?”

he turned to hyunjin, confused. “huh?” he he asked, seungmin scoffed. “you’re staring at her again aren’t you? give it up, she doesn’t know you.” he was quick to fight back. “she does know me.” he said matter factly. “we’ve talked.” he said. “once.” hyunjin replied. “and she didn’t even call you by your name, she called you another guys name because she thought you were him, and now you’ve convinced yourself you’ll be with her.”

hyunjin wasn’t wrong; you hadn’t talked to him since that one time you called him jaehyun, but he could tell right then and there you were destined to be together, and you were gonna be together. “that’s because we are gonna be together.” he collected his stuff, standing up. “you just wait and see.” he walked away. “he does know he can’t just stalk her on social media and from afar right? he actually has to talk to her?” seungmin said.” hyunjin shook his head. “you know how he is, you can’t tell him anything.”

so what he actually never talked to you? how dare they doubt your love for each other. so what if you've never actually talked to him? you said it with your eyes and your body? why would you wear such provocative outfits if it wasn’t for his eyes. you were sending him a message. “excuse me?” he looked up from his phone. “i said are you gonna take my order?” his eyes widened and he was frozen in shock. “oh i know you.” your sweet soft voice. “jaehyun right?” close enough for him. “no that’s not right…” you said, looking at his name tag. “jeongin, hi jeongin.” he couldn’t speak, you were actually talking to him. “are you gonna take my order jeongin or are you just gonna stand there.” he could hear the teasing tone in your voice, indicating you were joking with him. “oh-oh um yea.”

“just two coffees please.” he nodded his head, ringing up your order. “mo-move to that line.” he stuttered. “thanks.” you gave him a smile before walking away with your friend. “jeongin back to work.” he quickly continued his work, smiling to himself … you said his name.

“that was weird to do you know him?” your friend asked as you walked away, you turned back to look at the boy. “im pretty sure i had mistaken him for the guy i bought the essay from.” you said. “i don’t know him , know him.” you said, picking up the coffee. “the way he looks at you is weird.” she said. “oh come on you don’t even know him, how can you label him like that.” you said. “you are so naive.” she said. “it’s gonna get you in so much trouble.” you just smiled. “please what can he do? look how harmless he is.”

if you only knew what a boy with a mind like jeongin could truly do…

as a kid jeongin always had a vivid imagination; like really vivid, while he was watching cartoons, the tiny animations would jump out of the tv and keep him company throughout the day. he parents would always ask him who he was talking to and as a kid he would answer and they thought it was pretty cute — but him saying that at 15 is way different then him saying it at 4. he learned quick to never tell people about his visions unless he wanted to be bullied.

he didn’t see anything wrong with his visions; he’d grown used to them as he got older coming into adulthood, but the world did so he kept quiet — especially when he met you.

“you like me don’t you?” you sat on his bed, wearing his favorite outfit. “you think im pretty?” he sat on the bed, nodded. “of course i like you.” he said. “and who doesn’t think you’re pretty? tell me and i’ll kill them.” you chuckled, reaching up to touch his cheek. “you’re so cute innie.” he loved when you called him that. “i just love you so much.” your hand traveling down to his neck. “yo-you look so pretty.” he sighed, you hummed. “yeah?” your hand landing on top of his hardening cock. “you’re so hard.” you palmed him in your hand. “so big.”

he hissed, his hand covering yours; moving along with yours. “fuck.” he moaned. “your hand feel so good.” he bucked up. “i want you to fuck me.” you whispered in his ear. “don’t you want to fuck me?” he whimpered. “i do -oh fuck- i do so bad.” his breathing heavy. “im gonna cum.” he said. “gonna cum so much.” his voice was strained. “please let me cum.” his hand moving with yours. “cum for me innie.” he gasped out , cumming. “oh fuck fuck fuck.” his legs were shaking; he saw little white dots in his eyes as he came. “fuck yn i love you so much, so fucking much.” he repeated over and over.

*ring* *ring* *ring* his eyes shot open; he was alone… there was no one there in his apartment; like he always was. he didn’t even allow his friends to come over. who the fuck interrupted him like this? “shit.” he looked down, the wet stain in his pants from his orgasm. he picked his phone up; answering it. “what?”

“what the hell were you doing, i have been calling you for 45 fucking minutes.” he heard seungmin said. “45 minutes?” he looked at the clock; had he been in his own head for that long. “i was busy; working on a paper.” he said. “what do you want?”

“yeah whatever, just wanted to let you know chan is throwing a party tonight.” seungmin said. “and since you don’t even let your own friends into your apartment I just wanted to know if you’re coming?” he was about to say no but seungmin beat him to it. “that girl will be here, yn or whatever her name is, maybe you’ll finally grow a pair of balls and talk to her.” the older boy said. “so you coming or what?”

he could finally see you again; maybe even talk to you. “yeah i’ll be there.” he said, standing up from his bed. “then get your ass over here so you can help set up.” and with that he hung up the phone. what was he gonna wear? he needed to impress you. “ugh.” he felt the sticky remnants in his pants… but first he needed a shower.

you didn’t mind a party; it wasn’t your favorite thing, to get blacked out drunk and have a freshman trying to get cool points grinding on you, but you did dabble in them here and there — especially when your friend knew the host. “he’s the ta in my class he’s really cool.” she said as you walked through the party. “is he really, or is it because you find your face in his lap after class?” your friend gasped. “hey i don’t not have my face in his lap after class.” your friend held her chest, before she smirked. “it’s the other way around.”

“bitch.” you both laughed, making your way into the kitchen to grab a few drinks. “told him i was gonna bring a friend, he said he was was bring his friend. he’s around your age, quiet and pathetic.” she said. “you know how you like them.” rolling your eyes. “that isn’t even true.” you took a sip of the spiked punch. “oh please, you want a guy to worship you. this guy will chan said, he said he’s the nicest guy you’d ever met apparently.” she scoffed. “which i think is bullshit because at the end of the day he is a man.” you chuckled, your friend was something else. “well he seems sweet.”

“there you are.” chan greeted the boy as he met up with him. “hey hyung.” he finally made it to the party. “how are you? almost thought you weren’t gonna make it; seungmin said he couldn’t get ahold of you.” he looked around for you. “oh i was working on a paper.” he said; it wasn’t like he could say he was having a daydream of you so vivid he came in his pants, only to be woken up much to his demise. “hey you good? you look tired.” the elder boy wrapped his arms around his shoulder. “im fine hyung, really.”

“good cause i got someone for you to meet.” he really didn’t want to meet anyone new; especially since he was only really here for you; where were you? did you get here yet? he wondered what you were wearing. a dress? pants? — or a tiny skirt that he could easily flip up and fuck you in front of everyone, claiming you; ready to kill anyone who looked at your body. “jeongin.” chan pulled him out of his thoughts. “i said you ready? she’s a really nice girl.”

he couldn’t say no to his hyung; so he followed him. he’d just let whoever it is talk while he waited for you; where were you anyway? “he finally shows up, didn’t know jerking off takes that long.” seungmin said, the guys laughing. “stop it , here they come.” chan said. “hey welcome, im chan.” he definitely didn’t want to be doing this. “im yn.” he whipped around, and there you stood in all your beauty; its like you got even more beautiful since the last time he saw you — which was like a few days ago. “are you stalking me?”

your light hearted smile; made his heart flutter, he almost didn’t hear what you said. “you two know each other?” chan asked, confused. “technically i only learned his name a few days ago, but i accidentally mixed him up with someone else one day.” you held your hand up. “nice to meet you properly.” chan pushed his shoulders; nudging his head towards you. “o-oh h-hi.” he hesitantly took your hand, shaking it. “he’s shy, don't worry.” chan said. “it’s fine.” you said. “do you want to go get a drink with me?” you took initiative, trying to make him less nervous. “go with her, don’t just stand there.” chan whispered. “su-sure.”

“good, come on.”

he followed behind you; you smiled waving at different people as you made your way back into the kitchen. “here.” you handed him a cup. “i-i can pour it.” he said, you nodded, he poured his cup, and topped yours off. “thank you.” you took a sip. “what are you in school for?” this was the longest he ever been in your space; your warm vanilla scent made him feel at ease. “oh um business.” he said you nodded. “im going for children’s studies, i want to be a teacher.” you smiled to yourself. “i love children.” he could listen to you speak forever; in fact he wish he could record you and then that way he could play it all day through his headphones. “im so sorry, i talk too much.”

he shook his head. “no-no i don’t mind at all.” he said, not wanting you to stop. “well thank you for listening to me, most people think i talk too much.” who dared to say something like that about you; he’d kill them. “it’s fine with me.” he said.

he felt like he was in heaven for the next hour; talking to you about everything, you were so lively; the way your hands moved animatedly when you explained something; he became a lot more relaxed as he sipped on his drink. “let’s dance.” you said; you were much more tipsy than he was; but clear headed enough. “oh i don’t really dance.” you scoffed, standing up. “who says.” you fixed the tiny skirt you were wearing, it exposed your thighs, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of them. “please.” giving him your best puppy dog eyes, which he immediately caved because why would he deny you anything. “oh-oh okay.”

he got up, following you to the dance floor. you spun around wrapping your arms around his neck. “is this okay?” you grabbed his hand, putting it on your waist; really low on your waist. “yes.” he sighed softly as you both moved to the beat of the music. “i think you’re really cute jeongin.” you played with the nape of his hair. “i-i think you’re cute too.” your finger traced his jaw. “we could go back to your place?”

his place? what about that room? he could let you see that room… the room he dedicated to you, covered in pictures he took from your social medias, and sneaky photos he took of you hung up everywhere. old tissues and old cup he’d taken when you’d visited to the cafe — and the sweaters, three sweaters he took. how did he get them? he waited until you would get up even for a minute or two , forgotten about the sweaters giving him the chance to swoop in and take it.

he almost managed to find the perfume you wore; it smell just like you, so he sprayed it all over the room, covering it in you; it was your room, no one was allowed to see that room, only him. “my-my place is really far away.” he said. “that’s fine, i can spend the night, right?” he gulped, he could just keep you away from that room. he could just say it’s used for storage. “it’s okay if you don’t want to.” you said. “no-no i do.” he said, you smiled. “let’s go then.” you said. “let me go say goodbye to my friend.” you reached up giving him a kiss on the cheek. “i’ll be back.” watching you walk away.

once you returned; he guided you out of the house to his car, not bothering to say goodbye to his friends, he’d see them when he saw them. the ride back to his was quiet; a comfortable quiet though. he would look over at you and you’d smile back, before looking out the window.

he finally made it back to his place, the two of you making your way to his bedroom, where you immediately kissed his neck. “mhm.” he sighed as you attacked his neck with kisses. “that feels good.” he closed his eyes, allowing you to walk him back until he hit bed, falling down. he laid back , letting you grind down on him. “do-don’t tease please.” he begged, you giggled. “i won’t.” you climbed down , in between his lap. he lifted his hips allowing you to pull his pants down to his ankles. “you’re hard.” you kissed him through his boxers, pulling his cock from his confinements, he hissed as the air hit his cock. “so big.” you kissed the tip of his cock, taking him fully into your mouth. “ah shit!”

you bobbed your head up and down his cock. he gripped the sheets, throwing his head back as you worked down on him, gagging noises. “you’re so good at that.” his hand coming up to your head, pushing your head down. “oh fuck im gonna cum.” he groaned, bucking his hips up. “gonna cum inside your mouth.” he moaned loudly as he shot his load. “ooooh fuck!” he fell back against the bed. he felt like he was floating on a cloud. “you liked that?” he nodded breathlessly. “so much.”

you climbed into his lap, he sat back up, holding you by your lower back. “i want you inside me.” you said stroking his length. “want you to stretch me out.” you pushed your panties to the side, running the tip of his cock along your slit. “fuck sit on it.” you finally sat down on him, engulfing him. “jeongin you’re so big.” you moaned into his ear as you began to bounce on him. “fuck you’re so tight , i dreamt of this.” he groaned. “you’ve dreamt of fucking me?” you moaned. “ye-yeah all the time.”

you didn’t say much else, speeding your movements. “oh fuck , if you don’t slow down im gonna cum.” he groaned; he prayed for this day, the day he could feel you around him, sucking him for all that he’d got. “please cum , i want it inside me.” you whined, he cursed. “fuck im gonna cum.” you moaned out. “me-me too -fuck- lets cum together.” he held your waist tightly. “im cumming!” you screamed out. “jeongin!”

he held you down, letting out a loud moan as he came. “fuck fuck fuck.” he groaned cumming. “oh my god.” he breathed heavily, your foreheads pressed against each other. you smiled, kissing his lips. “you’re so cute innie.”

he woke up the next morning to an empty bed; but he knew someone was there; because of the aspirin on his bathroom sink with a note. he also woke up with a hard on, the night before flashing through his mind in little bits, but just enough for him to jerk off to before class. he quickly go ready, leaving out of his apartment.

the first thing he did was try and find you when he got to campus. “yn?” you turned around facing the boy. “oh jeongin, you’re okay.” you looked really worried. “of course i am why wouldn’t i be?” he said. “you only had one drink I didn’t think you’d basically black out like that.” you said; he blacked out last night? was it after you two had sex? “what time did you leave?” he asked. “right after you past out.” you said. “i didn’t stay long.”

you looked serious so he knew you weren’t fucking with him. “you left right after?” he said. “yeah; i stayed for about 5 minutes, i gave you a aspirin and left.” you said… it felt so real, like he could still feel you on him; he could smell your smell when he woke up in the morning, he could hear you moaning in his ear, telling him you were cumming. “you okay jeongin?” he looked at you. “um yeah.” he said. “you look sick; maybe you should go home and sleep, and this time sleep on your bed and not your couch.”

his couch; but he woke up in his bedroom? “ye-yeah i think i do.” he said really confused, his mind was really foggy. “maybe when you feel better we can actually hang up; this time when you’re sober and not muttering crazy things under your breath.” you chuckled. “oh no what did i say?” he said praying he didn’t embarrass himself. “something about my sweaters smells really nice.” you chuckled, but he was sweating now. “i wasn’t wearing one.”

“did you go into any of my rooms?” he asked, you shook your head no. “no i did use your bathroom, that’s why i left the aspirin in there, i hope you don’t mind.” he shook his head. “we have the same body wash, that's funny.” he cracked a fake smile. “we can we hang out for real?” you asked. “so-soon i promise, I’m gonna go home and get some rest.” you nodded. “i hope you feel better.” you said before giving him a kiss on the cheek and walking away.

he quickly rushed home; kicking his shoes off. he made his way to the living room and the pillows were thrown around like he’d slept on it. “so i did sleep here.” he ran to his room, pushing the door open. his bed wasn’t slept in; he hadn’t slept there, but he woke up in a bed — his room dedicated to you; he b-lined out his room and down the hall to his special room. the door was wide open.

he walked into the room, it smelt like you because of the perfume he always sprayed. the pictures looking back at him as he made his way over to the bed. the bed he kept clean always, messy and unmade. pictures he took now scattered around on the bed — and the worse part , his favorite picture of you. the only picture he had that was up close of you was now on the floor stained in his cum.

he’d hallucinated the whole thing; and he almost gave his obsession with you away. he just never felt something so surreal before… which only proved that his love for you was the strongest it’s ever been; and now that you’ve invited him into your life he can now push forward into making you his. he picked the ruined picture up; his dried cum covering your smiling face — turning him on cause now he has a vision of you covered in his cum. “fuck.”

he could feel himself getting hard again. “innie?” he looked up and you were standing in the doorway with a smile on your face.

girl, you're my hallucination …

©️LUVYENI

[pemiski]

tags Spider-Man! Chigiri x fem! reader, college au, completely self-indulgent

author's note yes this is a repost TT Also yes I'm aware the spider-man trope had been done and redone but for the record I don't care. Happy reading as always

Spider-Man! Chigiri’s never really been one for romance.

It’s not that he hates it or anything; it just doesn’t work. The last time he tried flirting, he accidentally set a girl’s hair on fire. Real flames, with a whole lot of real screaming, resulting in very real trauma. His first instinct was to panic (step one), flinging water into her face like he was trying to baptize her out of the seventh circle of hell (step two), and then panicking again (step three). It didn’t help. It never helps.

The next time, he almost revealed his entire identity as the amazing Spider-Man. Some woman tripped on the sidewalk, and his first instinct was to shoot a web. Mid-air, he realized. No mask, civilian clothes. And so, before he could even think, he yanked it right back. Unfortunately, he did it right as she faceplanted into the pavement, which meant he was now standing there with an outstretched hand, looking less like a superhero, and more like someone who just casually shoved a stranger into concrete.

But that was fine. Romance had never been at the top of his to-do list anyway— not when “stop armed robbery” and “finish the essay due at midnight” are constantly fighting for top priority. Maybe that’s why, at almost 12PM on a Friday, he’s curled up in the library with headphones in and papers spread out like battlefield debris, while everyone else his age is out drinking or dancing or god knows what. Whatever it is, Spider-Man! Chigiri doesn’t want to dwell on it.

And, all things considered, he really doesn’t mind. He likes his version of fun much better. What with occasional roundhouse kicks, busted ribs (not always his), near-death experiences, and the occasional existential crisis at the top of a skyscraper, it’s not as if he was ever bored.

“You don’t seem like you’re getting much done.”

He hears your voice before he sees you: soft, mostly curious, a little teasing— and when he finally looks up, it’s over the rim of his hoodie, eyes widening just slightly at the sight of you leaning over his desk. Shit. Another pretty girl. Just what his social battery needed on a Friday night.

“Yeah, no— I mean. No. I am. Getting stuff done.”

His voice trips over itself like it’s trying to outrun embarrassment, and his hand flies to the back of his neck, rubbing at the skin there like maybe, if he presses hard enough, he can disappear. Or reboot. Anything to erase those last 5 minutes.

He glances back at the mess in front of him, trying to pretend he didn’t just flinch at your smile. There’s one page that looks sort of impressive— highlighter everywhere, neat annotations in the margins, the kind of thing that screams I tried really really hard, please give me a sticker. The rest was, for a lack of a better word, tragic. Abandoned midway through a sentence. One of the pages still has a coffee stain in the shape of his elbow.

Honestly, he should be proud of the annotated one. He was, for a while. But then the clock kept ticking, and he realized he’d been here for hours, and the rest of his work still looked painstakingly empty.

So, no. Not a feat. Not even close.

And yet here you are, looking at him like he might actually be worth talking to anyway.

“It’s about to close. The library, I mean.”

Your voice is easy as you nod towards the mostly empty library, save for you, him, and some guy who’s definitely going to find himself locked up in here if he doesn’t wake up soon. It’s casual, as if it’s not slowly derailing every single one of his thoughts. He blinks up at you, still halfway stuck in the mental purgatory between should I respond? and is this a trap?

“So, if you want to,” you continue, “I know a spot that doesn’t close until much later. Y’know, so you can… get your stuff done?”

You giggle as you recall his little white lie from earlier, and Spider-Man! Chigiri can’t help but feel like it’s unfair. Like the universe handed him the definition of pretty and then asked him to form coherent sentences.

Oh, good lord. Please. Please, for once in his miserable little romance-free life, don’t let him screw this up.

“Are you gonna be there?”

It comes out a little too fast and a little too eager for it to be considered like genuine flirting.

And then, the regret. It’s immerdiate. His neck heats up like he just ran a mile and his ears are definitely red; almost the same shade as his hair. And here you are, still across from him, and you just smile. Sweet and unbothered, like this is the most natural conversation in the world.

“I don’t know,” you tease, head tilting slightly. “Do you want me to be?”

Oh. Oh.

He stares. You’re flirting with him. And it’s not sarcastic or cruel or accidental. You’re actually doing it, on purpose. That realization alone is enough to set his brain into full lockdown.

Now or never, his inner voice whispers. This is his chance.

“I, um. I— yes. You, um. Are—”

He gives up halfway through. The words tangle like shoelaces, and he swears he can feel the embarrassment rippling through him.

”I’ll take it as a yes?”

“Yes,” Spider-Man! Chigiri finally says, albeit a little breathless.

God. Fighting crime is so much easier than talking to girls.

I am fighting this shadowban with my heart and soul. If reposting a thousand times is what I have to do I WILL DO IT

@pemiski 2025 - all rights reserved. I do not authorize any reposting translating or modifying of my content on any platform

[moonstandardtime]

i've been using tiktok a lot the past few months, since my irls use it and i'm bored. here are some things ive noticed

(disclaimer: this is influenced by the tiktok algorithm, obviously. it is also influenced by who i follow on tumblr. i personally don't post on tiktok, but aside from that i use the two platforms pretty similarly and interact with the same type of content.)

(another disclaimer: this is entirely for fun and to provide a new perspective. be nice.)

under cut because it got really long loll. enjoy

tumblr users get REALLY mean, judgy, and holier-than-thou about tiktok. tiktok users, on the rare occasions tumblr is brought up, speak pretty positively (though secretively) about it. saw a tiktok that mentioned tumblr and the top comment was about shoelaces, and the creator replied saying they don't know what that means.

tiktok users aren't stupid or lesser than you. stop "not like other girls"-ing social media.

omegaverse comes up with about the same frequency on both platforms. i do interact with tiktoks about fanfiction, so that's probably why omegaverse shows up on my fyp in the first place, but i don't interact much if at all with tiktoks about omegaverse. yet they still show up.

fanfiction culture on tiktok is a little strange. they mostly make funny videos about accidentally skimming over the mpreg tag and getting jumpscared, and other relatable jokes.

the fanart on tumblr is better because it's easier to find and interact with.

tiktok loves edits. and the edits are SO GOOD. guys oh my god

tiktok also loves tweening, 2015 animation memes style. animation memes seem to be coming back i think?

on social issues, tiktok users seem generally much more optimistic than tumblr users. possibly because of the more potent sense of community caused by the "speaking directly at the camera" format as opposed to the "writing an essay mostly anonymously and hoping people actually read it" format. especially now, i feel far more inspired to act when using tiktok, and far more like i'm bracing for my inevitable doom when using tumblr.

on that note, tiktok's algorithm actually lends quite well to communication. tiktok users want people to see and interact with their videos, so they speak in a way that encourages conversation. this makes it feel more like an open friendly discussion. tumblr, however, has no such algorithm, and interacting with posts feels much more distant, so making a post about a serious topic is more akin to shouting your frustrations into the void and hoping someone on the other side hears and agrees with you.

the jokes on tumblr are funnier. tiktok loves their mediocre skits. nobody is that blunt in normal conversation and it's making your bit feel stilted, guys.

tumblr's sense of humor isn't unique, though. the format is just a little better for it.

tiktok users don't seem to piss on the poor as much. maybe because it's embarrassing to look inept and stupid when your face is attached to what you're saying? there's also access to body language and tone, and less pressure to say exactly what you mean in the exact right way the first time you say it without angering anyone.

14 year olds still engage in purity culture regardless of platform. this is because they're 14 years old.

i'm finding a LOT of great music through tiktok. it's awesome. genuinely one of my favorite things about the app.

tiktok is judgy and weird about things like appearance. tumblr is judgy and weird about morals. i prefer tiktok on this because at least i can say "normalise fatness" without being jeered at.

tumblr users love to guilt trip.

the "unalived" problem is not as bad as you guys make it out to be. tiktok users don't actually seem to say it much and prefer other euphemisms, especially when being serious. in no particular order, i've seen "departed this mortal coil", "passed", "eliminated" (usually in reference to the uhc ceo), and, a not insignificant amount of times, just "died" with the captions reading "unalived" or "d*ed" or something of the sort. it's still a problem with younger people, but for the most part everyone seems pretty against terms like "unalived" spreading into real life.

i DO see people using "grape" a lot more than "rape". probably because the word has a lot of weight and people are afraid of the topic. there's also a bigger fear of censorship here than with death and drugs; death and drugs are just a part of life. sexual assault? not so much. everyone seems pretty against the term "grape" spreading into real life too.

sex is a weird topic regarding self-censorship. when sharing personal drama, people approach it like they're in a room with children. in all other contexts it's pretty candid. when talking about sexual assault people like to dance around it. basically all like real life conversation, just ticked up a notch or two. i can't say anything about the extensive euphemisms of booktok smut povs, because i haven't seen a single one ever.

there are SO MANY ADS on tiktok. well. not really. there's a pretty normal amount of ads and a shit ton of lives and even more sponsored posts and posts where the poster gets commissions from advertising a tiktok shop item. it feels like you're being inundated with ads.

i'm white so i'm speaking from experience here (though i'm obviously not the end-all-be-all voice on this)—accidental racism is a lot easier to spot and fix on tiktok. it's a lot easier to see if your fyp is entirely white people and sometimes a poc every once in a while, since their faces are all right there, than it is to take note of the race of each of the faceless bloggers you follow on a pretty anonymous site. it's also easier to fix; on tiktok you can just look up something like "black hairstyles", like a few posts, and now there's black people on your fyp. if you interact with their posts normally, there won't be much more issue. on tumblr you'd have to specifically seek out someone, which feels almost performative to me, and also something that, regardless of biases, takes a lot more effort.

on a similar but contrasting note, tumblr's lack of algorithm makes it a lot less easy to fall down weird rabbit holes. on tiktok, though, it is concerningly easy to be boiled like a frog down pipelines, whether they be alt-right or conspiracy theory or astrology that devolves really quickly into a new type of essentialism. i like to think i'm pretty Aware of what i interact with online and how, but people on tiktok reaallyy like astrology and i've nearly slipped quite a few times thanks to a passing interest in tarot.

tiktok users are weirdly reliant on tiktok. tumblr users are weirdly reliant on tumblr. tiktok users don't have a superiority complex about it, though. i think we should all expand our horizons.

conclusion: to me tumblr feels like a club and tiktok feels like chatting with strangers at a chill party. i don't think one is better than the other; they're pretty drastically different platforms and can't really be compared like that. i feel like they're both somewhat necessary internet ecosystems. tumblr is anonymous, non-algorithmic, and has far less built-in censorship. tiktok is closer to real life, allows you to easily find and explore new things, and brings communities together in a pretty impactful way. insert something inspirational and poignant about society and how humans interact here.

[dnpg-hiatus-survivor]

my last reblog had me reminiscing on my early days in the phandom so i decided to compile a list of embarrassing dnp related things i did aged 11-15!

should i keep these to myself? probably. am i going to? absolutely not. here we go :)

1) i ran a dan and phil instagram fanpage and let all my irls follow it. when my friends would tag me on insta posts they would tag my phannie account

2) that account was called phans_special_snowflake

3) exclusively had dnp merch for school supplies. backpack. phone case. pencil case. everything.

4) when my english teacher asked what the d&p on my phonecase stood for, i confidently replied “dick and penis!”

5) i would watch dan and phil IN CLASS with no headphones

6) my spanish teacher asked me to send him a video so he could “see what dan and phil were all about”. i sent him I Nearly Blinded Myself as it was the most recent video at the time. he said it was “slightly inappropriate” and i had no idea what he meant

7) i wrote a persuasive essay on how dan and phil were secretly in love and in a gay relationship. i then read that essay in front of my entire class for a presentation grade. i got an A+ for both assignments.

8) i would tag dan and phil in EVERYTHING i posted

9) when i met dan and phil, i cried so hard that i walked away from them while dan was MID sentence trying to talk to me (phil said absolutely nothing to me. what a king)

i’m sure there are many many more things that i am missing but these are the ones that i remember most. honestly if i were to have a takeaway from all this, its that i LOVE my past self. i don’t actually believe in embarrassment or cringe. i was young and passionate and everyone knew it. are there things here that should make me cringe. yeah. definitely. but honestly, whats the point? i’ve grown up since then. why hate myself for what i didnt know? all i can do is laugh. and i mean come on… it’s so funny. 12 year old lydia the icon that you are. i was NOT afraid to be myself, and i feel like that has served me well. i’m really glad i grew up watching dan and phil. they’ve been great role models. especially as a young queer girl who was scared that she would never be able to find true love or happiness. so thank you to dan and phil for growing up with me! i’ve definitely come a long way :,)

[aliusfrater]

stanford era headcanons (for any winchester) please and thank you

instead of getting a new phone, sam used the one he had when he'd been kicked out til he could save up for another, then he kept the phone and phone number just in case dean or john called. neither of them ever did and he didn't try either, he'd even stopped himself from trying on several occasions and it'd ended with him crying in bed or at his desk with the phone in hand lots of those times. jessica was the one who'd eventually gotten him to part with the phone (the december of his third year, about seven months into dating) and the only reason he did was cause he figured john and dean had changed phones so many times at that point that they'd probably lost his number anyway. what he doesn't know and never will: they actually remembered his number but they'd never saved it on any of their new phones

john bought the truck a couple months after he kicked sam out and the fact that it didn't take as long to come up with the money as it would've with another son tagging along is what solidified the reality of what john had said to sam and what that meant for he and dean

i like to think that after the grief and within the perpetual blaming of sam for leaving, dean started resenting john really badly for not leaving the door open for sam and it's actually why dean started hunting on his own—dean timed it just right and found a small salt and burn job at the same time that john'd also found a smaller, more manageable job that he could do alone and he suggested splitting up it snowballed from there and they eventually started working separate jobs enough to develop a shorthand about communicating where they were and if they were okay

cassie really really liked dean's taste in film and would write mini-essays about them that dean liked to read. it reminded him of when sam would get sidetracked in research and tell him all about it

sam didn't celebrate the last birthday he spent with john and dean for a variety of reasons: a) he had still yet to tell them/they had still yet to find out about him going to college and he was too nervous about it, b) john was on a hunt and had explicitly told them he wouldn't make it back in time and that it was fine since he'd come home for his birthday last year (because he turned eighteen the year before (i like to think that sam was a year behind)), c) dean wanted to go out drinking with him and his fake id but sam really hated that he had a fake id and hated using it, d) ever since he was fifteen, he didn't actually like celebrating his birthday because it was just a reminder of the fact that he didn't want this to be his life. he was looking forward to celebrating his 20th at stanford

dean took a lot of jobs in arizona. he hates how hot it gets in arizona. john took a lot of jobs in the pnw

sam stopped drinking entirely for a few months after brady got fucked up that one spring break. it'd brought up everything about john's drinking habits

dean had a love-hate relationship with hanging out on cassie's campus because it reminded him that This was the life sam was living without him :( but it was also the life sam was living without him !!!!

sam's taste in fantasy films became a guilty pleasure for a little bit, especially when it came to the fact that he'd be in philosophy classes all day then get home and turn on what was basically abc ethics in a fictional setting

the reason sam had taken that class about native americans was because of the art history class he'd taken to meet girls. he'd read a lot of native american mythology throughout his childhood and he thought it was incredulous that the art history class didn't cover native american art

[sacred-pro-fiction]

I 100% agree with you on the OOC shipping. The overly sanitized version of ships gets really repetitive to me. It turns all these different ships into the same one.

It‘s not even that I dislike characters having soft moments together. But why do these characters all talk like they’ve read self-help and therapy books their entire lives??? Who is this??? Where is my blorbo thats ready to punch some dicks in???

It makes all these ships seem rather juvenile somehow? Like a caricature of a healthy relationship. It‘s pretty rare to see stories/interpretations that actually rely on canon material.

I can get behind Shadow being more tactile in private (leaning on Sonic, laying his legs over Sonics lap on the couch, casual touches)

I CANNOT see him acting like a uwu anime girl. Its these heteronormative stereotypes that bleed over to gay ships because thats the only acceptable form of romance I GUESS.

One of them needs to be shy, and doesen’t know how pretty they are, they need their partner to truly make them believe in themselves. To finally feel like they are worth something. The other one is always -masculine flirty character who takes charge-. Because we all know that if we left it all up to the feminine character, we‘d get fuck all out of the story.

Sorry, I didn’t mean to rant. It‘s just always those 'let people ship' and ‚it’s not that deep' that piss me off. Makes spitefully write an essay about this to be honest.

I feel like most of it comes from projection rather than stereotyping.

In a ship like Sonadow, a lot of the shippers relate to Shadow as ppl who were never taught/allowed to process their emotions (which goes doubly for gay and/or trans shippers). And as sonic fans, they project what THEY love about sonic into Shadow, Sonic’s message of loving yourself, being free, etc.

Despite ppl relating to and having somewhat similar traumatic experiences with love like Shadow- in almost all canons, he simply does NOT have the same response to his truama as the majority of ppl who like to ship him, and that's something ppl can get upset about when pointed out, cuz they've projected something so personal onto characters that get them thru tough times, so it feels like a personal attack when someone says "Shadow wouldn't fall in love like That."

Which is understandable but its also like. When I look at a ship tag and mostly find ships of ppls projected issues and warped perception of characters- I get annoyed because I was hoping to see something more in character, and Im allowed to feel that way and talk about it.

My post wasnt meant as a message to ppl who write OOC fic to tell them to Stop or anything; its meant for ppl who are also like "yeah I've also faced this frustration" to be like "lol this is so true" and thats it 🤚🏽 peace and love

[derkuningas]

blaire is peak and why rusty can't write truly evil women

If you've found this post, I don't need to introduce Leasebound to you.

Instead, we're going to talk about the fandom.

Leasebound's fandom has a sort of Lemony-Snicket-esque schism, with Rusty's intended audience and (hilariously) the exact opposite. I've seen both sides of the Leasebound audience, and I've noticed something interesting.

...nobody hates Blaire.

Okay, that's a HELL of a sentence to make, and very exaggerated. I've seen 'Blaire unenjoyers' and other people treating Blaire like the Eric Cartman of Leasebound, it's an eye-catching statement that makes people read more of the text post.

But I wouldn't call it wrong, I'd give it a 'hyperbolic.'

Even on the side of Rusty's intended audience, Blaire isn't loathed. I've seen many enjoyers of Blaire who either talk about how much they went her to talk gender to them, so to say. On the flipside, the worst interpretation of Blaire is a misogynist who pushes her activism on other people, which is more or less her canon intent.

But if Blaire was as bad as Rusty Hearts portrayed her, I don't think we'd see so much art of Blaire. In fact, I put down a poll, and Blaire pretty much took the #1 spot for the 'character with the most fanart' almost instantly, beating out characters such as Jaden (who took silver), Riley, and Violet. And it pretty much sticks!

I've seen a lot of Blaire fanart from the Leasebound tag on both sides! I've seen a lot of Blaire discussion and discourse on both sides, either about the possibility of a redemption arc, a rewrite, thirsting over her, etc.

So...we can pretty much say Blaire is a bad strawman.

Strawmen are supposed to be one-note characters the main cast is supposed to be more interesting than and can fight with no pushback. Blaire is massively popular across the board in the Leasebound fandom, has discussions about her that are multi-layered, and has wonderful fanart from people that really like her.

Done. That's all.

But we're not done. We need to keep talking.

Rusty Leasebound is very good at some things. Her chapter focusing on Shez had emotional, gut-wrenching art, and there is a definite appealing quality to the way she draws things.

Some things, atleast.

But Rusty is not a great writer. There's tons of other essays and an entire discord server that can point all the flaws in her story out enough to write an epic worthy of the Mahabharata. Leasebound has largely forgotten what it is to be a mouthpiece for her political opinions, its characters are one-note and one-dimensional, she focuses on the wrong things at the wrong time, and many more that will make my fingers cry as I type this. But I want to focus of Rusty's tendencies to tell, not show.

Blaire is not evil. She's not even Maleficent or Ursula or Cruella evil. And she's no Makima either. Blaire is just a woman passionate about her beliefs, and makes the mistake of pushing them on other people. That's not evil, that's a flaw. Women cannot be perfect all the time.

But we're meant to believe she is evil. In this panel of the Actor!AU, we are TOLD by Rusty that Blaire is meant to be evil.

Blaire isn't evil! Come back to me when she puts a living creature in a blender, or something!

While the statement is understandable, you're using it in the wrong way! Because there is no reason for the casual Leasebound reader to ever believe Blaire is evil, the way you portray her!

(Yes, casual Leasebound readers exist. Quinty's one.)

And there's multiple occasions of this 'tell, don't show' narrative Rusty keeps pushing.

For example: Meriam.

Meriam is told to be the protective, strong mother, but I'm not sure that's entirely the case.

Meriam has serious flaws in her parenting that is never acknowledged. Shez was made to basically worry for her siblings at a young age, which sounds horrible for a young girl.

(side note: criticism of the comic has often lead to more interesting, and realistic plotlines for leasebound to include.)

She's obviously traumatised, and it shows in her parenting. When she shuns out Rissa and her boyfriend; that's not good! If Rissa wants her family by her side, she won't get it because she's marrying a man. Meriam always keeps Shez on the pedestal like she's Luisa from Encanto.

Nobody asks how's Shez. Someone help Shez.

And there's so much more!

We get snippets of Riley, a MAIN CHARACTER'S backstory from one-off panels and dialouges, but we heard the majority of it from Rusty in the comment section, Rusty confirming fan speculation, the cast page, non-canon panels, etc. Nothing in the main story!

And that just makes Riley...really boring. The most interesting part of Riley is Blaire right now, and that's REALLY bad, considering we're supposed to dislike Blaire.

Here are some more examples of Rusty telling, not showing:

Muddles:

Riley:

Various statuses of offscreen characters:

Blaire and many others of Rusty's characters have fallen into one of her biggest writing flaws' clutches, but it's interesting as to how fan perception and works have essentially made one of the most three-dimensional characters of the comic, aside from Jaden. And that's one of the main problems with Leasebound.

I want to end this with an open letter. I don't know if she'll read it, but if you do:

Listen to criticism, and find out what's wrong with your comic. Tune in to different parts of the fandom, even when you don't agree with them. At the heart of the war, we all share one thing: reading your comic. Don't take that for granted; many amazing, better written comics would love to have the attention you have. Your art is good. I enjoy reading Leasebound when it's about the characters, not how we're supposed to percieve them. You have something; harness it before it goes away! And at the rate Leasebound is going- it might go away really fast.

Thank you for reading. I don't have anything else to say.

...

Hey, remember when a radfem accidentally reblogged a post by a non-radfem-

[o0anapher0o]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for tagging me @meraki-yao. I am very happy at the oportunity to shamelessly plug many, many of my fics :D Let’s do this!

How many works do you have on ao3?

47

What?! When did that happen? And how?

What’s your total ao3 word count?

502,199

Weirdly less surprising, even thought hat number is completely unreal.

What fandoms do you write for?

Interview with the vampire (2022)

Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries

Red White and Royal Blue

Star trek: Deep Space Nine

And I have one teeny tiny Thunderbirds fic

Top 5 fics by kudos

Somewhere I have never travelled (ds9)

Petal by Petal (ds9)

Your most frail gesture (ds9)  

Watch that man (rwrb)

Personality (ds9)

I feel like I should count the first three as one, since it’s literally parts 1, 2 and 3 of a trilogy.

Surprising how fast my first rwrb fic got up there.

Do you respond to comments?

Always, usually a bit rambly. I love talking to people about my writing :D

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Puh, that’s a hard one. I’m such a happy endings girl. My instinct was one of my iwtv fics, but they’re more angry than angsty lol, so I’m saying it’s between Of all untruths the truest is you (iwtv) and Do no harm (ds9)

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Your most frail gesture ends with a wedding, though actually I like the accepted proposal in Petal by Petal more.

Do you get hate on fics?

None so far (knock on wood).

Do you write smut?

No. A lot of my fics make it clear sex is happing but I don’t write it and I haven’t really any urge to.

Craziest crossover

My TayNick character crossover New Information. Also my only crossover so far, but that’s a side note.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. Hopefully having all my stuff archivelocked will keep it that way.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

YES! Someone did a translation of Do no harm into Russian. Only one of the coolest things that ever happened to me (though I would have preferred to be asked beforehand rather than simply be presented with a link).

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. I’m not entirely sure how that would work, but I’d be open to it.

All time favourite ship?

Why do people insist you have to have one favourite over everything else? No, I’m an adult, I can have as many OTPs as I want.

What’s a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Beneath Lucifer’s claws. I love this story so much, but I have it in me to finish it. I also have an old ATLA fic I love to bits, that has really neat bits but I was such a different person when I wrote it, it would need a complete rewrite and half of my favourite scenes don’t really work anymore.

What are your writing strengths?

I’ve been told my pacing is good. And I think I’m quite good at characters voices right when it comes to fanfic.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Punctuation. And I definitely suffer from ‘why use a period when I can use a comma’ disease XD. Scene transitions always feel clumsy to me, I don’t know if they read like it.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Oh, there’s an essay. If I were to give general advice I’d say, avoid it. It’s fun to read when you speak the language and annoying if you don’t, having to look up stuff all the time interrupts the reading flow. It’s even more annoying when you speak the language and the author clearly didn’t.

I’ve seen it done well once, where it was used so the characters couldexchange information because that was the natural thing to do for them, while keeping it a secret from the reader. That was neat. 'But even that could be done by just saying 'he said something in [language]'.

First fandom you wrote in?

Published or not? My first published fic was Jack’s Desk for mfmm. But I also still have fifteen year old supernatural and vampire diaries fics in a notebook somewhere. The world wasn’t ready yet.

Favourite fic you’ve written?

Something unstoppable and Somewhere I have never travelled. Neither of them came out the way I thought they would but I love how they ended up so much.

tagging @sapphosewrites @xenobotanist and @nalyra-dreaming

[neon-in-the-night-time]

back on my “trying to find an old fic i loved a couple years ago but i only remember the fandom and a couple of tags” bullshit this time with a liv and maddie fic that i was reminded of because i watched a video essay about the timeline of liv and holden’s relationship

now i know what you’re thinking “but tumblr user in-the-quiet-misty-morning, why on earth were you ever reading liv and maddie fanfiction?” to that i answer you: every so often i like to check up on my favorite fandoms with very teeny tiny fanbases (at least on ao3) and among those are every single disney channel show or movie i loved as a kid. some of them i check on more often (ike hsm, girl meets world, or sky high) but most of them i have checked on at least once. liv and maddie is one of those shows.

anyways unlike the hunger games fic i was looking for a couple of months ago, there’s only 125 works in the entire fandom, so i can easily root through them without having to try to guess the tags

will come back with updates.

[felixantares]

Thank you for the tag @allalrightagain 💚

Hardcover or Paperback? I'm just taking LT's answer but yes, ebook! I can use dark mode, write as many notes as I want, and something about reading on the small screen tricks my ADHD brain into thinking I'm not actually reading a whole book. To answer the actual question, paperback.

Bookstore or Library? Libraries! So many free books, and the librarians can find you pretty much anything you want! Also if I said bookstore my librarian mother would materialize behind me and end my entire existence (but my answer would be the same regardless).

Bookmark or Receipt? I mean receipt or scrap paper if I have it, but I'll be real i'm a terrible awful person who has very few issues dog-earing a page.

Standalone or Series? Typically standalone, but if a series is really good then it can win me over. All my favourites are series (Percy Jackson, Harry Potter) but I've also read so many series where I feel like the story and themes gets lost or muddled over too many books. I've had more consistent success finding well defined stories with standalones.

Nonfiction or Fiction? Oh easy, fiction. I read to escape reality, why on earth would I want to read about reality?? I mean I do like research but only with a goal in mind. Non-fiction just for the fun of it? No thanks.

Thriller or Fantasy? Fantasy, all day every day. It's the D&D obsession shining through, I think.

Under 300 Pages or Over? Over!!! I set my ao3 search functions to sort by word count and if it's under 100k I gently place it in my marked for later list for when I want a 'light easy read' 😂 I'm way more likely to be interested if you tell me a book/fic is over 250k (or however many pages that is equivalent to).

Children’s or YA? I like a few kids books for the nostalgia, but I mostly read YA.

Friends to Lovers or Enemies to Lovers? I'm giving up and just quoting LT here because I agree 100% and couldn't say it better: "Friends. Enemies can be fun too, but I love the layers when you get into friends to lovers. Enemies to friends to lovers or friends to enemies to lovers or other permutations of Messy can be even better."

Read in Bed or Read on the Couch? I mostly read on my bed because my roommate tends to keep youtube videos running on the TV while he does various crafts around the house (right now he's painting a mirror frame with really pretty flowers!) but if we're just chilling listening to music then I like the couch better. We've got about 30 plants in our living room and we can open the balcony door when it rains and it's lovely.

Read at Night or Read in the Morning? I mean, the morning is definitely safer. If I start reading at night I'll never put the book down and I won't sleep, but if I start in the morning things won't get done. It's lose-lose.

Keep Pristine or Markup? Markup. This is why I have digital books, so I can write essays in the notes section. I once had to tape a piece of paper inside my book because there wasn't enough room in the margins for my notes.

Cracked Spine or Dogear? (this part is mostly for LT but I have a copy of OotP where the spine is also cracked so bad you can't read it!! samsies!) But uhhhh both? I do try to take care of my books, but I don't have many and the ones I do have are my favourites that have survived the various purges of many moves, so they're all very beat up with cracked spines and dogears and notations everywhere 😂 I call it a sign of a well-loved book. I'm pretty sure my copy of HBP lost its cover at some point and I hot glued it back on.

Tagging: @girl-with-goats @luxuriousmalfoy @gloivy @venom0usbarbie

[mizukagami-takamagahara]

Sorry to bring up the topic but your tags on the Litchi('s boobs) versus Bullet('s ass) post are so true. What ass. If they didn't have her screwing up her entire back in her "battle pose" just to stick it up it'd look basically the same as anyone else's. (Also yeah her boobs are way more noticeable). I don't find that any Blazblue girl actually has much of an ass but I think that's both due to cultural difference on my part and to Mori only knowing the Japanese/anime body type.

So, can I ask for more of your thoughts regarding the Blazblue girls' body types? (And if you want to elaborate on those cultural beauty standards I'd love to read that too!)

Don’t apologize for asking the question, lol. We’re adults here, we can talk about ass an’ titty.

But really! We know that Mori’s mentioned that Litchi’s boobs are his cap for how big he’ll design a woman’s tits, though characters like Nine and Bullet look bigger in some art. I think Bullet’s boobs seem bigger in part because of her usual posture since she’s depicted bending over so much. I remember them being more prominent, but looking at her story sprite alongside Litchi’s, they really are the same. Hell, Litchi may actually still be bigger, given what looks like some serious gobbing out of her bra going on up top there.

As for the cultural beauty standards I mentioned in the earlier tags; the layman’s rundown of it all is that a society’s ideas about the ideal, most attractive body types change as time goes on. Currently, in the west (primarily the USA) we’re in an era of Big Ass, Big Thigh supremacy. I would theorize that this really kicked off with celebrities like the Kardashians, gaining more traction in the late 20-teens as women both within and outside of the celebrity spotlight pushed back against the bodyshaming tied to the “thigh gap” trend that was popular there for a while.

But in the era before that, it was flat asses that everyone was all about. And as I understand it, that’s still the case in Japan! At the very least, it was definitely still the case during BlazBlue’s lifetime.

To really be able to discuss this, I reached out to a good friend of mine who’s been studying the art, culture, and theory behind Japanese animation for a couple of years. I shared this ask with her, and it actually inspired her to start working on a whole essay on the women of BlazBlue and the JP pop culture beauty standards that apply to their designs! Which is, in part, why this reply has taken so long. We’re having fun with it!

For the meantime, here’s an exert from her post, discussing why Bullet qualifies as “the ass character” in a way that doesn’t quite click for a 2020s Western audience:

"Like you said, none of the Blazblue girls really have any (big) butt. In Japan (and in the early 2000s of America! trends…) they tend to prefer flatter butts.

In the opening of Cutie Honey, an anime created in 1970s by Go Nagai that was known for (and was actually at one point canceled for) sexy content, one of the lyrics is “Hey there girl, with the slender behind”. So it’s been in vogue for a hot minute too!

It’s interesting because I think Bullet is supposed to be the butt character, not because it’s particularly round or big, instead it’s her hot pants and the fact she is very fit. This butt is nice, toned but not “”too much”” , and available for viewing!!!

(...) I think it has a little to do with the fact that (typically) Japanese women don’t really have bubble butts, it’s more “normal” to have a flatter butt, but I’m not Japanese so. Grain of salt for this part!!"

Interesting, huh???

This post is already getting pretty long, so I think I'll wrap things up here! Though I do think we'll return to this ask in the future. As mentioned, my friend's working on a whole essay for the BlazBlue girls that we might end up posting on here.

As for myself, I still haven't answered the root question of your post; what I think about the BB girls' bodies. It's something I haven't really thought of a lot... I'm not even sure what angle I would want to take my answer in- do I focus on personal taste, attraction/sex appeal, do I focus on a more cultural or character design angle... how do I account for the way different art styles, even among the games, change the how the character looks...

I think, when I return to this topic, I'll break it apart into separate posts, grouping the girls by debut game. So, if you're interested in silly bloggers' takes on cartoon girls, stay tuned!

And thanks for asking!

[lilyflxwers]

tag people you’d like to get to know better :)

thank you for tag lovely @grimjobs <333

three ships: marylily, pandalily, dorlene (lily is my main girl i love her sm)

first ship: hmm. i think it’s probably destiel. i was obsessed with them to an unhinged extent as a 13 yr old lmao

last song: babe can i call? by the hunna

last movie: dead poets society (no. im not okay)

currently reading: re reading the six of crows and then reading a fat academic journal on the development of addictions for my thesis so that’s,, uh. thrilling /j

currently watching: NCIS. i have fixated on this. it is now my whole entire life. idk why. but my brain has chosen it.

last thing I wrote: wasss an essay (ew) i think it was on maladaptive stress responses

currently writing: pandalily!!! yay!!! it’ll probably never see the light of day but either way it’s fun

np tags: @achilleslikespeas @syrmaluna @werewolfenthusiast @destielcore @moony-t0ast @mydarling-thenrot

[persephonis-gardens]

While i respectfully disagree with your assessment of the merits of this essay (/blog post/whatever you want to call it) i want to clarify that i don't think it's entirely beyond criticism. None of the aforementioned essays are beyond criticism. Take Whipping Girl, a text almost universally lauded as the primary text on transfeminist theory that frequently falls back on gender essentialist assumptions that reproduce sex/gender from a primarily binary perisex white perspective. There's still a lot of value to be found in its analysis despite these flaws.

One of the things I think Coates does well is highlight the way liberal feminist deference politics marginalizes trans women and forces us to out ourselves and make ourselves vulnerable to transmisogynistic abuse. Her account shows how closeted and pretransition and non-op and butch trans women (hi im 2 of these things) will frequently get caught in the crossfire of blanket statements deriding masculinity so long as the power to define masculinity and femininity is gatekept from said trans women. I put this interpretation upfront in the original tags because this is what i want people to take away from my recommendation.

While there is certainly room for critique, and often her language can be disagreeable or even triggering (it's a challenging read at some points and i'm genuinely sorry about your friends' reactions), there should be room in transfeminist discourse for trans women who haven't worked all their shit out or who don't Do Transgender properly for one reason or another. From Coates' own account she seems pretty confident in her own womanhood but chooses to embody that womanhood through her authorship rather than through traditionally physical/social transition (reminiscent of how a lot of cis feminist authors conceptualize their writing as an liberatory extension of their outwardly repressed gender class to the point where it's almost a nauseating motif to compare female authorship to womanhood or motherhood). Furthermore she states upfront that she is not advocating for anyone else to emulate her choice to stay in the closet and not transition but that the experiences of our sisters who have to for whatever reasons are frequently dismissed over narratives that more easily fit the cisgender gaze. You don't have to like it or even agree with my interpretation but i wanted the chance to explain why i find it valuable and why i recommend it to people.

@molsno hi ! would you by chance have any reading recommendations concerning transmisogyny? you speak very well on what you discuss and I thought you might have some clues

[elainemorisi]

DS9 is forgiven its ridiculous slick wigs by virtue of how delightful they are when they do get tousled

[wndaswife]

Hey, can you do a stepmom Wanda fanfic with innocent reader or professor Wanda and bimbo reader. You don’t have to if you feel uncomfortable.

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

tags: smut, drugging, manipulation, somnophilia, hair pulling, face slapping, cunnilingus, dubcon, mommy kink, dollification, degradation, praise, aftercare, dom!professor!wanda, sub!bimbo!reader. MINORS DNI.

word count: 1959

a/n: prof wanda n bimbo reader was such a good idea

You asked your professor for help with your final assignment essay, the rubric in your hands as you approached her desk during her office hours. Your TA was unhelpful, giving passive aggressive advice at most whenever you contacted them for assistance, and as the deadline for your essay began looming over you dangerously close, you were scrambling for help, and you’d do anything to get it.

Your class didn’t have a final exam, but rather a huge research project that you should’ve been working on within the last month, but you weren’t. You hadn’t even opened up the rubric until last week.

Professor Maximoff was passionate about what she taught, and she had always been so sweet to you, so over the last few months, you had tried your best to attend her lectures, even if only to scroll through social media aimlessly the entire time.

Not knowing whether or not your professor would help you out in the eleventh hour was something that settled heavily in your stomach while you walked across campus to her office.

But Wanda was as helpful and saccharine sweet as she always had been. She looked up at you from her desk with an excited smile when you entered her office. When she asked to take you out for coffee, you initially agreed to her offer because you needed help, although you also found yourself excited to spend time with her. The dark glints in her green eyes as you turned to leave her office with her was lost on you.

The line at the cafe the two of you went to was long, so Wanda lined up for you while you sat at one of the tables reading over your essay rubric. After several minutes, Wanda approached you with your iced coffee in hand and her latte in the other. You never questioned why you had accepted her offer so easily. You were at one of Wanda’s favourite cafes in the city, sitting beside her at a table while her hand was placed on your thigh.

Wanda complimented your pretty smiles and carefree attitude. You let her squeeze your thigh under the table and she complimented your pretty eyes. You talked little about the essay you had originally gone to her to discuss.

“So, professor, I was-”

Wanda’s fingers moved forward, snaking around your inner thigh and making you freeze. “Please, darling, it’s Wanda,” she corrected with a sweet smile. 

Despite her proximity that anyone else might call unprofessional, you couldn’t help but give into her advances, letting your professor touch you the way she wanted to. She had even asked you whether or not you had a boyfriend, and like the naive girl you were, you simply drank your iced coffee happily while you discussed everything from a lack of a boyfriend to a disinterest in having one.

“O-Okay,” you hesitated before smiling, your nervousness quickly being overtaken by joy at being so close to your university’s nicest, and prettiest, professor. “Wanda, I was just wondering if we could talk about my assignment a little, if you wanted to.”

With her hand on your upper arm, Wanda replied, “Of course we can, sweetheart. I’ll just drive us back to school and we can go through it there. Does that sound good to you?” You nodded with a happy smile, and Wanda’s hand ran down your arm supportively as she picked up her things. She wrapped an arm around your hips and you walked out with her as if you were a child who couldn’t have found their way out of the cafe on your own without her help. And that wasn’t entirely false.

The soft hum of Wanda’s car as she drove, the warm scent of her enveloping you as you sat in her passenger’s seat, lulled you to sleep. You felt guilty for it, as Wanda had only just extended her hand out to help you, and you were taking advantage of her by nearly falling asleep in her car, but overwhelming fatigue had suddenly come over you.

You sipped at your cold drink periodically to keep you awake, but it had only seemed to worsen the warm sleepy feeling that spread through your body.

Wanda’s hand was placed on your leg as she drove, running her hand up and down your thigh soothingly. You fell asleep within the next two minutes. 

Waking up wasn’t so much of a challenge as it was confusing. Your mind was a complete blur, your surroundings dark and unfamiliar. You knew that you weren’t in Wanda’s car anymore, at least. Had you forgotten the entire day? As you groaned and tried to find your hands, your body twisted to the side, only to be held back up again by your hip. 

Something soft laid atop you, flush against your chest and stomach, and you heard mumbling in your ear. Your head recoiled from the sudden intrusion, but a hand was harshly brought to the side of your head, pulling you against someone’s face. 

“You’re a sweet girl, Y/N,” you made out. The lips of whoever was speaking was pressed against your ear, their breath warm as it blew down your neck. “So sweet to me.” 

The scent of them made you hum with a smile, pleased at the praise. You felt them grin against your ear. It was only when they began grunting softly against the side of your head that you put together what they were doing. 

With one of their hands holding your hip, the other held your wrists up above your head, preventing you from moving out from underneath them. Your ass was exposed, your skirt hiked up to your waist and your panties pulled to the side. 

Then, the walls of a room came into focus, then a headboard. A bedroom that wasn’t yours. 

The familiar shade of your professor’s dark brown hair flashed in front of your eyes, swaying in time with the soft jerks behind you. 

You heard yourself moaning, the rhythmic noise soothing your throat.

With a hand wrapped around your chin, your face was refocused upwards. You were met with your professor looking down on you with a small smile, her eyebrows furrowed together. What was she doing on top of you?

Your eyes travelled down her body. She wasn’t wearing a jacket anymore. Her turtleneck’s sleeves were pushed up her arms. Her slacks… had gone too. 

Her hips were thrusting down against yours. Your eyes widened when a thick glistening strap was pulled from your hole, sticky white ropes connecting her cock and your pussy, before she thrusted back into your sopping hole with force. 

A hard slap came across your face and your hair was pulled into Wanda’s fist to make you look back up at her again.

“Pay attention to me,” she spat, her expression suddenly cold and stern. 

You squinted, your cheek stinging as your professor’s features became clearer. “W… Wanda?” you stuttered out hesitantly.

Her expression relaxed and she let go of your hair, petting your head softly. “That’s right,” she cooed.

“What’s happening?” you asked, tears forming in your eyes at the sheer confusion that had come over you. You felt so dumb and small. 

“Nothing you need to worry about, dear,” Wanda reassured, slightly breathless. “Nothing your stupid little brain could understand even if I tried to explain it to you.” Her words should’ve stung, should’ve made you cry harder, but you simply sniffled and nodded at the soft coo of her degradation.

Her head was thrown back as your hips bucked upward into her instinctively, making the harness of her strap make harsh contact with her clit. 

Wanda’s hand slipped between your stomach and hers and she looked down at you again. Her fingers were pushed through your folds. She parted them, letting you hear how they parted stickily. “Your tight little cunt is taking my dick so well,” she said. 

You flushed at the praise though you felt dirty for it. 

Her hand slipped out from between the two of you and her palm was stuck across your face again without warning. You whimpered, writhing beneath her. 

“Mommy… please stop,” you begged tearily, the harsh pain making your cheek sting. “You’re hurting me.”

Wanda took your chin again. “You think that’s something to be proud of, puppy?” she asked. “That filthy little pussy is nothing to be proud of. You’re such a braindead fucking slut.” She spat at your face and you recoiled. “You don’t deserve mommy’s cock.”

She moved to slip off of you, but your arms raised and wrapped around her waist. “No, mommy, I’m sorry!” you cried, tears spilling down your reddened cheeks. “I’m so sorry, mommy. I want your cock. I feel so icky. Please help.”

Your professor leaned back down against you. “Don’t cry, baby,” she hushed. She kissed your tear-stained cheeks. “You want my help?” 

You nodded.

You flinched at the raising of Wanda’s hand, but it came down to cup your cheek instead, her thumb rubbing her saliva into your skin. 

“That’s a good girl,” she said. You whimpered at the praise, suddenly feeling the need to cry even at that. “You’re just mommy’s sweet little cockwhore, hm?” Wanda asked, kissing your forehead. “You like getting your tight little pussy fucked by mommy’s big cock?”

You closed your eyes and nodded again “Yes, mommy,” you answered obediently. 

All of your classes were missed that day, but you spent not even a moment thinking about them. Wanda fucked your tight pussy all day until you’re too fucked out and dumb to protest to any of her advances. At one point, you got on your knees while she fucked your throat until you were crying. She spanked your pussy until it was puffy and red. 

All the while, you mumbled out how happy you were to be mommy’s little fuckhole. You were so happy to be her little girl, so happy to have her cock fucking your tight cunt. 

When Wanda eventually unfastened her strap, she gave you a shower, holding your abused little body up while she washed your hair. She dried you up with a towel after having you sit up on the washroom counter. She rubbed lotion onto you, massaging your sore body comfortingly, then dressed you up like her little doll, all cute and sleepy in her soft clothes. With a kiss on your forehead, Wanda tucked you in under her blankets.

You fell asleep in her bed dreaming of her pretty green eyes while she gave you full marks on your unfinished assignment online. Afterwards, she made you dinner- hot soup and baked bread. She woke you up, peppering your face with soft kisses. With your arms wrapped around her waist dependently, Wanda led you downstairs to the kitchen.

You were just as happy to have dinner with Wanda as you were at the cafe earlier, swinging your legs in your seat and blabbering off joyfully about miscellaneous topics. 

Once cuddled upstairs in bed with her, Wanda led you down between her thighs, gripping your head between both hands as she guided you through eating her out. 

“Faster, whore,” Wanda commanded. Her grip on your hair tightened, her nails running down your scalp. “Eat my pussy out just like that.” She came into your mouth and pulled you back up to run her tongue up your coated cheeks.

With you pulled against her chest covered in blankets and embraced tightly in Wanda’s arms, you fell asleep once more, not having questioned for a moment being at your professor’s place being cared for like her sweet doll. 

Perhaps that was why Wanda took you home to begin with, and why you fell asleep nuzzling your face into her breasts.