#it's just power dynamics

[greykolla-art]

Don’t know if I ship it, but I do want them to have as many scenes together as possible…

[doctorsiren]

can’t stop thinking about mob growing up 🥺

[lordansketil]

Listen, I am so unbelievably basic...

1) power difference

2) class difference

3) age difference

4) difference difference

5) that's it, there is no fifth thing

Alright lads, here's one for any and all writers: what are the top five things readers can basically always expect to see in your work?

[the-meme-monarch]

who up digitaling their circus *my entire house’s power goes out leaving me in complete darkness*

[determinate-negation]

for the record i am extremely against the liberal idea that peoples sexual preferences are “just what they like” and theres nothing deeper than that. all sexuality is psychosexuality, all of it is based in social relations and influenced by real history. it should be critiqued. however i also think this should be applied to everything instead of this weird thing people do on here where they try to insist that their specific fetishization of power dynamics is separate from those other bad fetishizations of power dynamics

[benevolenterrancy]

Mobei-Jun getting abandoned in the human realm by his favourite uncle and being left alone and terrified?? baby???? gonna lie awake thinking about him and Shang Qinghua meeting as children

[noirve]

trying to gather my thoughts here, but i am OBSESSED with the way armand switches back and forth between vulnerable and threatening in this episode. his vulnerability isn't entirely calculated—he is genuinely insecure and desperate for love. however, he also uses that fragile image of himself to bend situations to his will. he definitely manipulates louis with it, but louis also kind of plays him in return: by adopting a more lestat-like role (jacob's words), he leverages armand's need for his love and acceptance to get things to go his way. i just love love love how they switch between who takes on the dominant role and the submissive role in their dynamic. i think louis feels he wields more power in his relationship with armand than he did with lestat because armand is "servile" to him, but armand is still pulling the strings in ways louis doesn't always realize or want to see. and i fall for that shit too btw, one moment i'm feeling bad for armand with his sad tender bambi eyes, a traumatized lonely being forever doomed to be a rebound, but then the next moment, he switches to threatening claudia as if it's nothing like.... everyone is just the worst lol. how dare you mr spears you had me fooled and you too mrs spears

[boarwinds]

She's so pretty I had to

[luxaofhesperides]

a safe place to rest - duke

(part 3 of the harmless series)

Although he hears about the baby, Duke doesn't get to meet her for a few days.

He does meet someone else though: Danny.

"You need anything before I go?"

He doesn't want to leave Danny alone in the Hatch. Not out of mistrust or anything, but because he's sure that the moment he looks away, Danny's going to disappear again. It took so long just to convince him to take a moment to breathe, to rest and recover from whatever he's gone through.

There's a frantic sort of energy surrounding Danny that has his aura all messed up, which is the only reason Duke decided against letting anyone else know that he found Danny.

He got the basic rundown from the night shift, but he hadn't had time to look more into it before Danny was crashing into him during his day patrol, eyes wide and wild and looking like his world had just ended.

"You," Danny had gasped, "You're with—Batman? Please, take these." And he shoved a bag against Duke's chest.

He had to react fast to grab it, and then grab Danny when he all but collapsed against him.

Now, he sits on top of the spare bed Duke set up in the Hatch, pale and tired and quietly devastated. "I'm fine," he insists. "You don't need to do anything for me."

Duke frowns. "Uh, I absolutely do, you think I'm just gonna leave you to fend for yourself? Come on, man, that's not how I do things."

"You don't owe me anything."

"Obviously not. It's not about owing things. I'm doing this because you need help and I can give it."

"I can take care of myself," Danny says firmly, and Duke holds back a sigh. Yeah, this guy really is Batman's kid. Horrible self-care habits and all.

"You don't gotta, though. You get that, right? You can take one day off and just rely on me to take care of you until you're back on your feet."

"No."

Duke tries to shove his emotions down, to stay neutral and calm. This is a guy who came crashing into their lives, shoving a baby into Damian's arms, and then vanishing. This is a guy who's gone through way too much on his own. Of course he's not going to trust anyone. Duke knows well how heavy everything becomes when it feels like the world's against him. He can give Danny grace.

"Okay. Just so you know, I'm asking to be polite. I'm still going to grab some extra clothes for you, and a homemade meal, so you just stay here and get some sleep. We'll talk more when I get back from delivering all this to Batman." He lifts the bag Danny gave to him for emphasis, then pins the guy down with a hard stare. "You better be here when I get back, or I am going to have no one to show baby pictures to."

"…You're gonna check on Ellie?"

The clear concern and desperation in Danny's expression make him soften. "Yeah, man. I'll check on her and let you know how she's doing. That's why you gotta be here when I get back. Got it?"

Danny bites his lip, then nods slowly. "Yeah. Got it. Thank you."

"Get some sleep."

Duke pulls the door shut, setting the alarm system to quietly alert him if anyone goes in or out while he's not in the Hatch. There's a first aid kit on the table and some water bottles as well, but it's not going to be enough to really help Danny start to recover. Duke takes a moment to curse his past self for not better stocking his crash room for emergency visitors, but in his defense, he isn't in the habit of bringing anyone back to the Hatch, not even other Bats, when the Batcave is more suited for handling lots of people.

Well, it's something to work on in the future.

He doesn't get more than a few steps away when he hears the door opening behind him and looks back to see Danny poking his head out.

"Hey, before you go…"

"Yeah? What's up?"

"Can you maybe not tell anyone I'm here? I'm assuming you know who I am, since you know Ellie."

"Yeah, your Batman's first lost kid, right? Trust me, I've heard of you."

Danny winces. "Great. Figures. I just really need to not deal with all of them right now, so if you could keep all this quiet…"

Duke looks him over, takes in the paleness of his skin, how worryingly thin he is, the dark half-moons stamped under his eyes, and promptly decides then and there that the rest of the world is going to have to go through him to even think about going near Danny. It's a complicated situation he's in and if he needs time to prepare himself for meeting everyone else, who Duke knows from personal experience can be a lot, then Duke is going to make sure he has all the time he needs.

"You got it man. They won't hear a thing about this from me. I'll lock everyone else out of here, too, so you can rest easy. They ain't getting in here to bother you while I'm still around."

"Thank you," Danny says again, sagging against the doorframe. "I'm… I really need to sleep."

"Go crash," Duke says softly. "I can take care of things until you wake up."

Bruce is the only person in the Batcave when Duke arrives. He's bent over the Batcomputer, head in his hands, when Duke parks his motorcycle and heads for the stairs to meet him on the upper level. He keeps his footsteps purposefully loud so Bruce can track him as he makes his way over, Danny's bag slung over his shoulder.

"Rough night?" he asks, just to get the conversation started.

"Yes," Bruce sighs. "There have been a number of—changes."

"Oh. Good changes or bad changes?"

Bruce lifts his head as he considers the question, then rubs his temple. "Unclear. It's nice to see everyone working together for Ellie, but I'm—concerned."

"About what?"

"About Ellie. And everyone. And Danny."

Duke leans his weight against the desk and lets the bag drop off his shoulder, then holds it out to Bruce. "Well. I dunno if this will make things any better, but Danny threw this at me while I was on patrol. I took a quick look through it and, uh. It's kinda rough. It's what he went through and how Ellie was created."

Bruce snatches the bag from his hand and immediately begins rooting through it. "Is Danny—?"

"He vanished as soon as I grabbed the bag. I think he's got a few loose ends to tie up before he feels comfortable being here again."

"What did you think of him?"

Duke looks at Bruce, looks at the papers in his hands, and thinks of Danny. "I think he needs someone in his corner. I think we gotta lot to do to make the world safer for him and Ellie. I think he's been scared for a very long time."

Nothing in Bruce's expression changes, and there's no shift in his aura, his emotions tightly locked up as always. But Duke hasn't gotten this far without learning how to see the little things: Bruce's grip on the bag tightens, his feet shift farther apart, as though he's ready to leap up at a moment's notice, and his shoulders slump just slightly under the heavy weight of all the things he refuses to share.

Sighing, Duke tilts his head to look at Bruce more closely. "Why are you down here? It's the middle of the day."

"I'm researching."

A hand loosely gesturing to the large screen of the Batcomputer has Duke turning to see what Bruce has been so occupied with.

It's not case files, as he expected. It's not even research into Danny and what happened to him.

All that's there is PDFs upon PDFs of child psychology papers and essays on recovering from trauma and research on various methods to help children with failure to thrive and malnutrition and neglect.

There's also, in one window, different safety ratings of baby cribs.

Well. Let it be known that Bruce's love language is information.

"Cool. Have you spent any time with anyone since a baby got dropped in your lap?"

Bruce's silence is extremely telling.

Duke briefly considers trying to get Bruce to go upstairs, but he knows better than to pick a losing battle. Especially after he's handed him information on Danny.

At some point, Bruce will have to go upstairs, if only to eat. He's getting old, and his body can't quite keep going like it used to. Duke will let him deal with the consequences of his own actions, or lack of action, when that time comes. He's not a mediator or peace-keeper. Duke has other pressing matters to attend to.

Taking pictures of the baby for Danny is definitely more important than navigating the minefield of family tensions and miscommunications ever present with the Waynes.

Duke reaches out and claps a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "Don't get so caught up in getting all the pieces together that you forget to actually spend time with family. They're gonna need you now more than ever," he says, and waits until Bruce meets his eyes and gives a resolute nod before Duke stands and heads for the stairs that will take up him to the manor.

The sooner he gets back to Danny, the better.

Ellie is cute.

This isn't a surprise. Most babies are cute, and Ellie is no exception.

What Duke hadn't been expecting is how protective Damian is of her, or how everyone else orbits around the two, just on the edge of hovering. Damian's prickly personality is well known, so the rest of the Waynes have taken to acting like cats: always on the same floor, ready to pop in should they be needed, but otherwise out of sight.

"Thomas," Damian greets quietly. Ellie is asleep in the baby wrap keeping her secure against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. Damian lowers his paintbrush, turning to give Duke his full attention.

Duke takes a hesitant step into Damian's studio, then walks up to him once he isn't hissed at to leave.

"So this is our newest troublemaker, huh?" he says, looking down at Ellie. "How's she doing?"

She's so small. Her head has some black hair on it, but it barely covers her ears.

Damian lays his brush down on the easel. "She's doing much better now that she's getting regular meals and care. She still doesn't make much noise. It is… concerning."

The raw fear and care in his gaze is what makes the words tumble out of Duke's mouth. "I have some news about Danny."

If anyone deserves to know about him, it's his little brother.

Damian's gaze snaps up to Dukes, a fierce light in them, and his hands raise to hold Ellie tightly. "What is it?"

"He gave me a bag while I was patrolling, then left. I looked through it before giving it to B, and it's all… I only read the papers, not anything on the flashdrives, but Danny went through some awful shit. He was captured and experimented on by some group called NOVA. They had him for some time doing tests before he was put in isolation for acting out. And then he kinda… went into a death-like stasis. They did more tests and took some bio-material from him to try to figure out how he was surviving in stasis, and used that to make Ellie with the genes of one of the other captured metas. Danny was in stasis for around seven years."

Reading about it, learning about what Danny went through made Duke's stomach turn. It was like something out of a nightmare. Duke knows the fears metas have to live with; he carries it too, a weight he can never put down.

There's a reason civilian metas try to keep their powers a secret. Metas go for a high price on the black market, are at a higher risk of human trafficking, are seen as the best test subjects by unethical scientists wanting to find some way to replicate those powers in other people or in weapons.

Summarizing the horrors Danny had to experience leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. The silence in the studio stretches long enough for Duke to regret opening his mouth. Damian's still a teenager. He may have had a different upbringing and be able to stomach what most people can't, but this is still his brother. Anyone would be rattled hearing about this.

Then, without a word, Damian stands. He storms out of the studio, leaving Duke to catch the stool he was sitting on before it hits the ground and wakes Ellie.

When he goes to catch up with Damian, the kid is already walking into another room, tension in every line of his body.

"Richard," he snaps quietly, and Duke watches as Dick pops up from where he was lounging on the floor on one of the softest rugs in the manor.

"Dami? What's wrong?"

Damian doesn't answer, just unwraps the baby sling and carefully passes a still sleeping Ellie over to Dick.

"Damian," Dick tries again, his voice hardening, demanding an answer even as he adjust Ellie in his arms to make sure she can continue sleeping comfortably.

"I need to speak with Father," Damian answers shortly. "I will be gone for some time. I am entrusting her to you."

Dick glances at Duke, who tries not to look too stressed or tense. He doesn't think it works.

Reaching out, Dick puts a hand on Damian's head, managing to ruffle his hair for a few seconds before Damian steps away, batting at his hand with a scowl. "Alright," Dick says, "But I'm sending someone to get you for dinner if you're not back by then."

Damian nods, then turns on his heel and leaves for Bruce's office.

Neither of them move until they're sure that Damian is out of earshot.

"What was that about?" Dick asks, lowering himself down onto the rug again, one hand rubbing small circles against Ellie's back.

Duke sighs. "You'll find out soon. Just... chill for now and let me get some cute baby pictures."

Dick, as he finds out, is actually pretty good at helping Duke get the cutest pictures of Ellie.

And when Ellie blinks her little blue eyes open, Duke's heart melts and he understands how she's got everyone wrapped around her fingers.

NOVA, whatever remains of them, is going to regret ever hurting Danny and Ellie.

Danny is asleep when Duke returns. He sleeps through the night, and when Duke wakes up early the next morning to make sure he hasn't disappeared, Danny remains motionless in his bed.

Is he in stasis again? Duke wonders, panicked, as he rushes into his crash room and gently shakes Danny, trying to wake him up.

It takes a few tries before Danny lets out a soft noise in the back of his throat. He turns his face into the pillow, then abruptly tenses up and shoots out of bed. In a blink, Danny's on the other side of the room, flying up to the ceiling where Duke can't easily reach him.

Hands up, palms open, Duke says, "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. How're you feeling?"

Danny sucks in a few deep breaths before he slowly floats down to the floor. His eyes are still too wide and there's a faint tremble in his hands. "Fine," he answers blankly.

"Up for eating something? I did promise you food and baby pictures."

Unsurprisingly, it's the mention of Ellie that gets Danny moving and brings some light back to his eyes. He follows Duke out into the main room of the Hatch. There's not really a kitchen in here, but there is a fridge and a microwave, which is enough for now.

One of his workstations has been cleared off and now has chairs around it to turn it into a makeshift dining table. On it, Duke's left a tupperware of French toast, made the way he remembers his dad making them when he was a kid, and as well as a store-bought container of cut fruit.

It's not really a lot, but it's what he could do on a short notice.

Danny takes a seat, and Duke settles in on the other side of the table, pulling out his phone to flip through the many pictures he took of Ellie.

Duke keeps up a light commentary as Danny slowly eats, sharing little stories about the Waynes and all the nonsense they get up to. That turns into sharing stories about the stupid shit he and his friends gets into, followed by some of the weirdest things criminals have done to try to get away from him, including the one that said 'nuh-uh!' when Duke said carjacking is the lamest crime to commit in Gotham.

That story gets Danny to smile, and it takes way too much effort to keep from celebrating it.

All the while, Danny slowly looks through each photo of Ellie, making sure she's okay. He looks so fond and sad that it's breaking Duke's heart, and he swears to himself then and there that he's going to do whatever he can to reunite them.

"Don't you have hero things to do?" Danny asks. It's the first thing he's said since they both sat down.

Duke shrugs. "Nah, not right now. Gotham can wait. You're my priority right now."

"You don't have to—"

"Nope. If you don't want anyone else to know you're here, then you're gonna have to deal with me."

Danny squints at him. "You're both very chill and very stubborn."

"It's the only way I was able to survive working with the other Bats."

"They sound… interesting."

"You can say they're a hot mess," Duke laughs. "But hey, who isn't?" He watches as Danny pushes around the last half of the French toast around the tupperware and straightens up from where he was leaning on the table. "Want me to put that up for you? You can finish it later."

Danny looks down at his plate, then slowly nods. "Yeah. Sorry."

"No worries. You went through some shit. It's not surprising that you don't have much of an appetite." Duke reaches over the table to pop the lid back on the tupperware, then stands to put it in the fridge.

When he turns back, Danny is no longer visible.

Or, at least, his physical body isn't visible. Duke can still easily see his aura, a vibrant green that has streaks of white moving through it like a current of water, which leaves an outline of his body. Danny is also trying to sneak out of the Hatch.

"Oh," he says, "I didn't know you had invisibility. That's pretty cool. I can still see you, by the way."

Danny becomes visible again, glaring at Duke.

"That's such a Batman move," Duke grins, "I should have expected it."

"What was a Batman move?"

"Sneaking away as soon as I turned around. B does that all the time with the Commish. And everyone else, honestly. Though, to be fair, we all do it because we all learned from him. Yeah, you'll have no trouble fitting in with us."

"I don't think what I'm doing should count, since I'm using powers."

"Dude, watch this."

Duke makes sure Danny's looking at him, then bends the light around him to hide him from view. He can see the exact moment Danny realizes he's vanished when his eyes go wide and he takes a few steps closer.

"Signal?"

"Still here," Duke reassures. "Haven't moved an inch." Then he releases his grip on the light around his head, a fun little trick he figured out a few years ago that makes it look like he's a floating, decapitated head. The goons always love that one.

Danny looks at his head. Looks at his invisible body. Then looks back to his head. "That is freaky," he says, a slow smile dawning across his face. "I can do that too."

And sure enough, Danny's body becomes invisible, save for the outline of it in his aura, and now there's just two floating heads in the Hatch.

He's not sure who cracks first, but in no time, they're laughing like everything's alright. Danny's expression brightens and suddenly he's years younger, all the stress falling off his shoulders in the face of their mirth. Like this, he could be any other guy in one of Duke's classes, talking nonsense just to pass the time, quick to laugh and without a care in the world.

This is what he wants for Danny.

This ease, this calm, this lightness in his heart: Duke will keep them safe for Danny.

If nothing else, Duke can be a safe place to land for another meta who needs, more than anything, someone willing to be there for him.

(masterpost for all parts)

[mysicklove]

obedience is so so hot. not even asking subs to do extreme things, just simple commands that they have been trained to follow. reinforced these rules so many times that their body reacts to your words before they even think about it

could you imagine being mid-conversation with a sub, and then randomly interrupting them to tell them to kneel, and immediately they fall to their knees without even hesitation, blinking up at you and ready to follow the next command.

[greykolla-art]

@cirilee made me realise this was essentially their dynamic, and now I’m going insane I love them!😂❤️

This poor old cat getting dragged around Hell by a weird psychopath.👌

[dykedvonte]

I just realized some people are confused about events in the alluded to past in Mouthwashing, particularly about how long the crew has been working together.

The only person who is truly new is Daisuke and it’s why his dynamic with the crew and role in the story is very unique and somewhat distant. Curly didn’t just get Jimmy this job on the Tulpar, he got him the job with the Pony Express. He’s been his copilot for probably a couple of years but still not as long as they’ve been friends. None of them are new with the freight industry, Anya and Swansea especially have been doing this for years, together.

Jimmy is the newest on the regular crew, maybe just a few assignments, but it’s not his first time working with them. I think it’s just something important because this isn’t just one bad mistake that snowballed with giving Jimmy the job. None of them thought Jimmy would do anything, no matter how off-put by him they could’ve been, since he hadn’t done a thing since being there. Generally unpleasantness isn’t a crime and he’d be aware of that.

It was a festering thing and a sort of forced trust they had to give him that he knowingly took advantage of. He was the black sheep and still a wolf under the wool. He expected when he lashed out, that he had been there long enough for it to be looked over completely. Got too comfortable in the space he inserted into and did a lot of damage with his claws when he felt he was going to get shaken out.

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: death mention / strangulation mention / stabbing mention / blood mention / self-sacrifice / codependency mention in tags / ]

I think a lot about how common it is for Raph to be the one to have direct focus put on him when Leo gets into all his near death experiences.

Like, when Leo is thrown off a building, it’s Raph who’s right there jumping after him, not even thinking about the consequences to himself when he does. When Leo almost gets skewered by the Krang, Raph’s right there to take the blow and send Leo to safety without a second thought. When Leo’s being strangled to near death, it’s a Krangified Raph doing the job, doing exactly what Raph would never, ever want to do. When Leo is telling Casey Jr to close the portal, it’s Raph who tries desperately to convince Leo otherwise.

Likewise, Leo is consistently very single minded when Raph gets forcibly separated from them. Both when in the sewers and by the Krang, Leo is dead set on finding Raph first and foremost.

I also think it’s interesting that during each of Leo’s near death experiences, the lightheartedness of his words during them goes directly hand in hand with both how close Raph is to him physically and how much danger Raph is also in in that moment. From a literal “I told you so” as Leo’s falling away from Raph to a soft joke about how “hero moves” are Raph’s style - both of these are on the more morbidly carefree side and both of these notably take Leo farther away from Raph and, in turn, have Raph not in immediate danger.

On the other side of things is the apology from Leo, heedless of the danger he himself is in as he seriously and genuinely speaks to a Krangified Raph face to face. Then there’s Leo’s freezing and desperation as Raph takes a hit meant for him and sends just Leo to safety, leaving Raph himself behind. Both of these involve much closer proximity and Raph being directly harmed - these together make Leo much more vulnerable in his words and actions, something not even the threat of death can make him.

These two care about each other so much, and they’re way too much alike for their own good.

[izzystizzys]

it’s canon to me that anakin skywalker and marshall commander fox are archnemeses of a shakespearean nature to eachother

why? well, fox’ life is a tragedy of galactic proportions. he’s a slave at best and straight up non-sentient property at worst, caught at the crossroads of being the face of the republic’s most corrupt establishment to his brothers who resent him for being forced to bear an authority he has no actual control over, and being the closest and easiest target for that very authority’s ire. made to enforce the rigged and deeply unjust laws against his own oppressed peoples, and no one understands better than fox how much coruscant truly despises them. the chancellor at the heart of it all, and anakin, the favored pupil - taken in by the flattery and empty promises like all the rest of them, the jedi most intimately connected to the senate who yet cares so little to know the clones who shed their blood in it every day that he never sees beyond his own very nose. no one asks the guard what they think, and fox despises them all for it, but the jedi who play at caring more than anything. it’s an impersonal, distanced dislike for the most part, but with skywalker it burns all the brighter for how often fox sees him walk the halls of the senate and never think to ask.

also fox cut anakin off in traffic once and he never forgave him for it

[wtslpod]

some lesbian thoughts on elrond & galadriel

The dynamic between Elrond and Galadriel, despite being central to the show, sometimes feels under-appreciated in the fandom. Like many relationships in TROP, it doesn’t easily slot into a single category. It’s not merely one of friendship or kinship or mentorship

It’s not romantic, but it is emotionally intimate—and that seems to trip a lot of people up, even before 2x07. We’ve always appreciated how emotionally open Galadriel and Elrond are with each other, particularly given how guarded Galadriel is with most other characters.

She and Elrond have a long history prior to their reunion in the first episode, and during the course of the show they rely on each other as they navigate disappointment and loss, both personal and as relates to elven-kind.

They don’t always see eye to eye, but even when Elrond feels hugely betrayed by Galadriel’s choices, it doesn’t erode the love between them.

They’ve been separated during their respective darkest moments, but find solace and healing in each other’s presence. They bring light into each other’s lives, and together will be instrumental in banishing the rising darkness.

One of the strengths of Tolkien's work, and one of the reasons fans (including queer fans like us) return to these stories time and again, is the focus on platonic bonds that defy societal norms through the strength of their intimacy and commitment.

Of all the relationships we've seen on the show so far, Galadriel and Elrond embody this wonderful category-defying emotional intimacy most of all.

[joannasteez]

shameful

pairing: roman reigns x reader warning: explicit content. minors pls dni. not degradation or praise, but a secret third thing i have yet to figure out. infidelity! post summerslam return! authors note: i don't know what this is and i wrote it.. so yeah. enjoy?! let me know what you think. love to hear thoughts/opinions etc word count: 1100 tagging: @333creolelady @harmshake @kill-the-artiste @theninthwonder @thesamoanqueen @empressdede @southerngirl41 @sortudademais @2-muchsauce

that 'not enough" feeling. a fullness not quite reached. forever on the edge. the heat over his skin, vicious and damp as it breaks. rough grunts and the sure stroke of his hips. like torture resting in his belly. twisted and holding. waiting to burst, to release. almost. palpable enough to taste. throbbing down his spine. needy little moans breathing against his tongue and the delicious pull of your pussy. an encore. from cheery, fevered cries to the play of these little delicate ones, sweetening his ears, his blood. almost. belly tight. burning. fingers curling the sheets. digging. groaning. 

a hot, terrible breath bursts into your neck. frustration unruly. 

you thumb away those loose hairs sticking to him. dizzy, pretty eyes pulling away from their pleasure for a moment to take him in. your lips hot against him. kiss swollen and dangerous. "whats wrong?" sweeping over his cheek. 

his tongue feels dirty. folds over as he speaks with a griminess not yet recognized. "none of this bother's you, does it?" words trying against the air. 

you laugh. head tipping against the sheets. devious and full. moaning into that richness of amusement. kissing his lips and curling your hips into him. a shift that pulls him in deeper. urges him to nestle and groan. almost. rattled enough with pleasure but never enough for that faithful breaking. "m'being serious", he roughs. feeding in gently, a tender little go that steeps him in and keeps him clutched tightly. your body trembling and receiving. always so easy to receive him.

you smile. mouth faint over his skin. over his beard and the apple of his cheek. along his neck, skimming and breathy. fingers in his hair and a whimper delighting just where his pulse living. your tongue warm, peaking to lick and curl. playful. taunting. "would you fuck me harder if i gave you a little resistance?" your palms smooth, at his nape, over his back. slipping against damp, hot skin. smiling into his neck. "i play up the guilt, cry about how we shouldn't do this and how awful i feel, leaving my man all alone to lick his little wounds while you fuck me. that'll make you give me more huh?" an urge to shift his hips, rutting short and sloppy. cock stirring up at your words. 

his thumb hooks under the bend in your leg. settling his knees to nail into the bed a little better, taut and strong and holding you hostage under him. open and easy. neck craning to chase your lips. to cease that awful flow of truth better felt when it goes unsaid. because he did love it. that damning streak of possession that comes with a chase. a cat and his deceptive little mouse. your tone disgustingly sweet, lips wet, charming. "you want it a little more wrong baby?" you purr. rolling your hips to grind at his dick. "it's only a win if you're the only one smiling right? nobody gets their fun but you..." 

roman's fingers fill with fire. an ache he can't stand that blooms fierce. uneven breaths and that almost ready to burst coil in his belly. your neck warm as he squeezes. a tremble rippling thereafter. like your body was made to follow him. 

"...thats how it works huh?, that's why you got your hotel room so close to his..."

"...you love the idea of this shit..."

tighter. thumb pressing in to restrict your throat. a sloppy dazed go of wet strokes. the messy noise of it burning his ears red. a bright heat that flushes his face. 

"...love the idea of him hearing me, finding me..."

"...that shit makes you feel so good..."

a moan with the strike of words. talking yourself to the brink of that beautiful great bursting. whimpers clear and pitchy. that sticky slick of arousal easing him in, easing him to bury deep. a tingle in the heels of his toes, rushing to the crown of his head. 

you smile. eyes dim and dazed still. fingers quick to rub your swollen clit. the lewd song of it good to him. his eyes casting against it. to watch you flutter and perform desperate for release. 

"you want me to pretend for you?" 

"fuck", roman cuts. setting his hips to give a delicious little grind against your walls. the thick tip of him nudging, filling you to the hilt. deep enough that your body attempts to curl. attempts to close in from too much pleasure. a drawl of trembly little moan leaving him. stuttered and overworked. cock stiff and throbbing and digging for something beyond that almost feeling. 

"does that make my pussy feel better? if i feel a little more shameful, a little less eager?" 

he lowers. laps his tongue against yours. slips into a kiss. lips meshing to pull apart slow. 

"you puttin words in my mouth", he rumbles. 

"...but its what you want. punishment. you want him broken..."

a flare in his chest. eagerness. blinding and resolute. his pace focusing. deft and steady. a method found after the burning pour out of a truth left unsaid. because it felt better to claim you like this. to war and win against the convictions of a sobered morality. drunk now off the pleasure seeping from your body. your legs spread and your pussy wet for him. split open to take him deep. his body thick and consuming. but he needed you to play the game. to give in slowly. be coy and pretty and delicate for him. because the challenge, the chase of it made that burn, that release, a delight better than anything ever felt. better than the beautiful onslaught of a cheering crowd, or the feel of the belt about his waist. 

"call him".

his breath hitching. hips stuttering. surprise binding to his bones. 

"what?", his fair falling everywhere. sticking to the confusion along his face. 

"get my phone".

he shifts without notice. snatches your phone off the hotel night stand. your breaths heavy, fingers slipping with a shake against the screen. 

you set it down. a call to his cousin that twists his gut mean. a terrible excitement. the call clicking short, proving an answer on the other end.

you push. nudge his heavy body over till he's laying out along the sheets. his fingers gripping your skin to rough you along. stirring to throb again. slotting against the soft wet take of your body. skin damp and sticky and smacking lewd as he makes to shift your hips to fuck against him. his palm, a short whip through the air till it lays at your thigh. "roman...", you give. gasping and wispy and delicate. face done up with a horribly sweet show of guilt. lips bitten by your teeth and your eyes prickling wet. a performance that settles him into a renewed eagerness. pleasure rife and coursing about him well. moving fast away from that almost feeling...

"louder baby", he roughs. "let him hear you".