#look at my cringe body and fail breasts

[icterid-rubus]

Man feeling very unsatisfied crafting wise.

[aemondsbabe]

Praise | Taunt Part 2

summary: michael has been tutoring you for weeks and the closer you get to him, the stronger your feelings seem to grow but does he feel the same way about you?

pairing: michael gavey x reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, profanity, dirty talk, breast/nipple play, teasing, degradation/dumbification, oral (f receiving), fingering, piv sex, unprotected sex (technically the reader is on birth control but it's not mentioned in this part), angst (michael is in his sad boy hours for a lil bit), creampie, light cum play, light choking, daddy kink, dom/sub vibes, discussions of mathematics, michael being a lil clueless (aw, bless) -- let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 9.8k i will not apologize, i am not sorry

a/n: i have to say, i've grown so attached to this little pairing and i hope y'all love them as much as i do!

TAUNT | Part 1

MAKING AMENDS | Bonus

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

“Fuck this,” you mutter, jaw clenched as you yank over the next page of your statistics textbook, practically ripping the page as you flip it over. You can’t help but grumble, each page of notes you flip through only adding to your foul mood as you hunch over your desk, numbers and letters swimming together in your vision. “Ugh!” You toss your pencil down, rubbing your temples as it clatters across the desk before falling to the floor. 

“Oi!” Louise sits up against the pillows on your bed across the room, tugging off a headphone as she looks at you, resting her own textbook on her lap, “You doin’ alright, babe?” 

“I’m gonna fail the final,” You groan, head in your hands, “I’m gonna fail it, and then fail out of Oxford, and then I’ll have to go back home and then my parents will kill me.” 

“You’re not gonna fail,” she sighs, pushing herself up so her legs dangle over the bed, “You’ll be fine. You were so worried about that last quiz and you nearly got a perfect score, remember?” 

You let out a petulant whine, one you’d be embarrassed about if your head wasn’t pounding, and lean back on your wooden desk chair, bleary eyes staring up at the ceiling. “That was before we started consumer mathematics,” you lament, chest heaving with a sigh, “I have no hope now.” 

You can feel Louise jokingly roll her eyes behind you when she huffs out a laugh as she slips off your bed, coming to stand behind you, her face upside down as she looks down at you, a hand on her hip. “Why don’t you just text Michael? I thought he’s been helping you.” 

Just hearing his name makes your heart feel funny in your chest and you sigh, sitting back up before turning to look at your friend, “It’s…complicated.” Inwardly, you can’t help but cringe at yourself; the situation is anything but complicated and yet it somehow feels impossible. 

“Explain,” Louise commands, leaning back against your desk with her arms crossed across her chest. She laughs when you groan, pushing your shoulders back from where you’ve curled in on yourself, forcing you to look at her, “Babe, I love you, but it’s Michael Gavey. How on Earth is that man ‘complicated?’” She asks, cocking her hip as she does air quotes with her hands. 

“Because I like him!” You blurt out after a second, hiding your face in your hands, “I like him and I don’t think he likes me and every damn time we study, we just end up fucking and I can’t keep fucking him because I like him!” The words rush out of you before you have time to think about them, your whole body deflating like a balloon as you release weeks worth of tension. 

Your head snaps up in shock when Louise giggles, your mouth hanging open even as the corners of your lips threaten to quirk up into a smile. “How dare you!” You admonish, playfully slapping at her hip, “I’m pouring my heart out to you and you laugh!” 

“Sorry, sorry!” She shakes her head, breathily laughing as she tries to get herself under control, “I’m sorry! I just…what do you mean he doesn’t like you? That man is in love.”

“What?” Your eyes narrow as you stare up at her, “How do you know? I’ve tried flirting with him and he doesn’t ever seem to respond to it.”

At this, Louise shakes her head and shoots you a concerned look, “I don’t think he’s the type to get flirting, hon.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you honestly think anyone has ever flirted with him?” Louise asks, giving you a pointed look, “I don’t have anything against the guy, but come on. You’re gonna have to hit him over the head with it.” 

“Yeah, okay,” you acquiesce; in your weeks of getting to know Michael, you’d learned that while he wasn’t clueless, he was definitely not as experienced as he had first appeared, “That still doesn’t mean he likes me, though.” You point out, raising an eyebrow at your friend. 

“Do you really not see the way he looks at you?” She smirks, “I’ve said two words to the man but, trust me, he is smitten, babe.”

You look away, biting at your bottom lip as you think over what she had to say. Your eyes scan over the surface of your desk, unfocused, as thoughts bounce around your head. Louise simply pats your shoulder before going back to your bed, resting on her stomach as she resumes reading through her book. 

You’re quiet for a moment before your eyes land on your phone, sitting temptingly on the corner of your desk. You glance back and forth between it and the still-opened textbook in front of you, frustration rising in your chest once again at the mere sight of the various formulas on the pages. Finally, with a sigh, you grab your phone and flip it open, quickly scrolling to Michael’s contact. 

“U busy now?” You text quickly, pressing send before you have a chance to second guess yourself before setting the phone down quickly, practically dropping it on the desk as if it were burning you. 

Not even a minute later, although it feels like an eternity, it vibrates. You hesitate for a second, tempted to just slog your way through this chapter on your own. Finally, you sigh and reach for your phone, not wanting to sacrifice your newly-improved grade or your situationship with Michael. 

“In my room. Why?” He replies, always concise and to the point. 

“Need help w the new chap,” you type, biting your lip as you shuffle through letters on the small keyboard, “Can I come over?”

“Sure, see you soon.” His reply comes quickly, making your heart race. 

With a nervous sigh, you push yourself up from your chair, groaning as you take a second to stretch before striding over to your small dresser. “I’m going to his,” you say, glancing over at Louise, “I’m officially waving the white flag on this chapter.”

“Wear lingerie!” She says quickly, practically skipping over to you and leaning against the wall next to you.

“What?” You laugh, shooting her a questioning look, “Why would I do that?”

“Duh!” She huffs with an eye roll, “Put in some effort to fuck him and it might help get the message across.”

“How do you know we’ve been–”

“Your room is right next to mine,” she points out, looking at you tiredly, “And the walls in this ancient building are thin as paper. Come on.”

“Okay, okay,” you put your hands up in surrender with a laugh before pulling open your underwear drawer; as convoluted as Louise’s plan was, you couldn’t exactly see a downside to fancying up a little, “Any suggestions?”

“Hmm,” she hums, shuffling through the small pile of fancy lace you had shoved in the corner of the drawer, “Ooh, these!” She chimes victoriously, holding up a lacy bra, “This color always looks so good on you, you’ll make his head explode.” 

With a nod, you grab the bra and matching underwear from her, “If this doesn’t help, I will be holding you personally accountable.” You laugh, seeing her politely turn away from you in the corner of your eye as you begin pulling your clothes off. 

“I mean, it is still on you to actually say something,” she chuckles, peering out the window as she waits for you to change, “Honestly, if it was me, I would’a locked that shit down ages ago. The sounds I hear coming from this room…” She jokes, shaking her head.

“Sounds?” You ask, your face flushing as you hurriedly clasp the thin bra behind your back, “You can hear us?”

“You two are not nearly as sneaky as you think,” she laughs, “I mean, who would’ve thought that little nerd had it in him?”

“He has hooked up with people,” you defend, pulling on a t-shirt and skirt, short enough that you knew it would make the blond’s head spin, “He’s not totally helpless.”

“Hookups are different than boyfriend dick,” Louise points out, shuffling back on your bed until her back was resting against the wall next to it, “And based on all the screams I hear from you, Michael has boyfriend dick.” 

With a laugh, you roll your eyes, not even bothering to question her as you shove your things into your backpack. Sitting down at your desk chair, you pull your small mirror over and give your hair and makeup one last look over, glancing back at Louise as she continues, “I mean, come off it, babes. You don’t even make those noises by yourself.”

“You can hear me?!” You squeak out, whipping your head around.

“The walls are paper thin!” She laughs, “I’m sure you can hear me too, and everyone else. You honestly think that doesn’t go both ways?”

“Ha ha,” you say dryly, slipping on your shoes before standing and grabbing your keys from the small hook next to the door of your room, “I’m going, can you lock my door when you leave?” 

“Yup!” Louise chirps, not bothering to look up from her phone as she waves you off, “Go get that nerd dick!”

With a sigh and an eye roll, you pull your door closed.

You make it to Michael’s in record time and pause in front of his door, giving yourself a minute to calm down before you nervously knock. 

Almost instantly, the door swings open. The thought that he might’ve been perched next to it, waiting for you to show up, makes your chest squeeze as you murmur a hello. 

“Hiya, pretty.” He says lowly as you move past him, closing the door and watching as you dump your backpack by his bed. His room wasn’t much different than most other guy’s dorms you’d been in – sparsely decorated with only the essentials, although you did appreciate the posters and pictures Michael had hanging up. There were all sorts of different ones pinned to the dark wooden walls, from bands he liked to small polaroids of his pets from home. Every time you were here, though, your heart couldn’t help but hurt a little as you never saw pictures similar to some of the ones you had up – ones with friends. 

“Needed some help from little old me?” He teases. 

“Yes, oh my God!” You sigh, your dramatics making him crack a smile as he takes a seat at his desk, “This new chapter is doing my head in!”

“Alright, alright love,” he murmurs, signature smirk poised on his lips as his blue eyes peer at you from behind his glasses, “Get your things, I’ll see if I can help.”

With a nod, you pull your notebook from your backpack as he turns to the chapter in his own textbook. As you move, you can’t help but glance at him from the corner of your eye, taking in everything from the dark red t-shirt he wore, complete with a cheesy maths pun on the front, to how ruffled his golden hair was, like he’d just woken up from a nap. Maybe the light was playing tricks on you, but you swore you saw him glance over at you a time or two too. 

“Haven’t heard much from you this week,” you start, pulling up the extra chair he kept in a corner of his dorm room, “How’ve you been? Oh! And how did that paper for your calculus class turn out?” You ask, glancing at him as you flip through the pages of your notebook, looking for where you’d left off. 

“Oh, yeah,” he clears his throat, leaning an elbow on his desk, “The paper was great, actually. Thank you for your help by the way,” his lips curve up in a sheepish grin, “I’ve always been a bit shit at writing.” 

“Yeah, no problem,” try to ignore the way your stomach twists at his gratitude, “I’ve always been shit at maths so it works out.” You joke, pride filling your chest when he chuckles. The longer you’d spent working with Michael, the more comfortable the two of you became, and slowly but surely he’d let his guard down. He was still the same cocky, downright arrogant prick in class but when it was just the two of you, you couldn’t help but notice that he’d grown…softer. Those sharp, taunting edges of his had been smoothed a little, sanded down by jokes he shared with you rather than sarcastic jabs directed at you. 

“Mmm,” he hummed, those blue eyes you’d grown so enamored with sparkling with mirth, like he was always just one step ahead of you, “Don’t sell yourself short, baby. You’ve improved a lot,” your cheeks flush and the butterflies in your stomach roar to life, whirling around wildly at the simple compliment, “Not nearly as much of a dummy as you were a few weeks ago, yeah?” He finishes, lips tugged up in a viciously smug smile as he watches the way your eyes grow wide, the way the pink hues making their home on the apples of your cheeks bloom ever brighter, extending almost all the way to your neck. 

“Michael,” your voice is hoarse as you croak his name, desperately willing your mind to stay on track, “C-Can we focus on the notes, please? I really do need help, I mean maybe later we can–”

“Don’t get yourself in a tizzy,” he says, blessedly cutting off your nervous babbling, “What’s giving you problems, pretty?”

“Uhh,” you fumble, kicking yourself internally as you scramble to reset your brain, “The stuff we went over last week,” you flip through your notes, finally pointing your pen at the hastily scribbled notes you’d taken in class, “The monthly investment stuff; I guess the formula Professor Davies went over just seems really complicated to me. Like, I was having a really hard time following it in class with the way he was explaining it.”

Michael nods his head as he listens, his eyes quickly scanning over your notes before flitting to the accompanying pages in his nextbook as he lets out a sigh. “Ahh, okay,” his fingers brush over yours as he takes your pen, once again sending your mind into a flurry as you blink, desperately trying to clear the fog that seemed so determined to invade your brain, “So, remember the compound interest formula we went over earlier?” 

You nod as he peers over at you, admittedly only halfway listening as your heart hammers in your chest. “Uhm, y-yeah,” you nearly whisper before clearing your throat, “Yeah.” You nod once more, trying to keep your voice steady as you watch him scrawl notes on your paper; your eyes glaze over as you observe the way his long fingers hold your pen, making it all too easy to imagine those same fingers sliding into your mouth and holding your tongue down as he whispers filthy things into your ear, skirting their way into your underwear and curling just right against –

“It works similarly,” Michael continues, hunched over the textbook as he copies down a sample problem, “So, the monthly investment formula is basically just the yearly salary over twelve months. I think the formula is getting to you, but it’s not really that complicated in practice.”

You nod your head dutifully, his voice sounding muffled to your ears as your thoughts continue spiraling, lewd thoughts of his fingers and cock playing like a video on the backs of your eyes. He hands the pen back to you as he finishes copying down the question, gazing at you expectantly as you look over the problem. 

“Okay, so, uhm,” you stammer, eyes desperately scanning over the page as if the answer will magically reveal itself to you, “So…you’d divide these…?” You ask timidly, already knowing you’re wrong. 

“You aren’t paying attention at all, love,” he says, not even needing to question it as he shakes his head in mock disappointment, “What’s going on in that pretty head, hm? What got you so distracted?” He rasps, one hand moving up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, even that simple action damn near causing you to whimper. 

“I don't,” you swallow, mouth dry as your eyes flutter shut for a half second before reluctantly meeting his, heart pounding wildly in your chest as the smirk on his face makes a graceful reappearance when he sees the glazed over, near empty look on your face, “I don’t know.” You finish finally, voice breathy despite your best efforts.

“Hmm,” he hums again, trailing that hand down your neck and the side of your arm before finally letting it rest atop the thigh closest to him, his touch practically burning your skin, “I think I have a pretty good idea of what’s taken over that empty fuckin’ head.”

Before you even have a chance to reply, his hands are on your hips. He firmly pulls you into his lap, lithe frame disguising his true strength as he settles you atop his thighs. 

“Michael, I–”

“Hush,” he commands softly, warm hands skirting over your waist as he tugs you back into him, your back pressing into the familiar expanse of his chest once again, “I know exactly how to help, pretty girl.” He whispers, his breath fanning over your cheek before he presses a light kiss there, trailing them down over the side of your neck as his hands slip under the bottom of your t-shirt. His touch makes shivers cascade down your spine as you feel his hands ghost over your stomach before they cup your breasts; he lets out a pleased hum when he feels the delicate lace of your bra, which does nothing to hide your already pebbled nipples as they press against the palms of his hands.

“I think,” he continues, chuckling darkly when he already hears small whines escaping past your lips as he continues massaging your breasts, “You need that wet little cunt played with, hm? I know she’s already dripping, pretty.” His voice is rough as he speaks, his hips grinding up into you, making you mewl on his lap as you feel his cock already poking against you even through the jeans he wears.

“P-Please,” you whine brokenly, embarrassed to already be reduced to such a state, “Please, Michael, I need…fuck, I need something, anything, please!” You’re used to begging for him by now, the two of you have hooked up enough over the past few weeks that you know he loves how whimpery and desperate you get, loves to hear the little hitch in your voice when you beg and plead with him so. 

“Not Michael,” he grunts, roughly pinching at your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra, just enough to make you cry out and squirm on his lap, “Try again.”

“Oh–,” you gasp, unable to stop the way your hips desperately wriggle on his lap, tantalized by the feel of him, even through all the layers of clothing between you, “Sir! Sir, please!” 

He huffs out a laugh, low and raspy in your ear as he trails one hand up, poking it through the collar of your shirt to wrap it lightly around your throat – not enough to choke you, but just enough to remind you of your place. “Someone must be feeling extra stupid today, hm? Haven’t been sir in weeks, love, you know that.” 

A hungry whine claws its way past your lips as your head tilts back onto his shoulder, your eyes squeezing shut as your cheeks heat up, trembling in his lap. This has been his favorite part, experimenting with that one little name it takes so much for you to say. It’s funny really, eventually he’d admitted to only hearing it in a porno, not something he could attribute to his string of experiences with one night stands. You’d just been the first person he’d been intrigued about enough to try it on; he was hooked the moment he saw your reaction and had slowly worked it into your little routine, requiring you to day it, to beg him so prettily with it, before he’d ever give you what you wanted. 

“Come on now,” he groans, the movements of your hips finally getting to him, “Tell me what I want to hear and I’ll keep this precious cunt occupied so that that little head can work properly.” His hand abandons your breast, a laugh rumbling through him at your cries as he trails it up one thigh, slipping it under the bottom of your skirt. 

“Daddy!” You finally blurt out, the ache in your core finally growing too big for you to keep denying, “Please, daddy, please, just… fuck, just do something!”

“Shh, shh, babygirl,” he coos, half laughing as he slips his hand up under your skirt, cupping your throbbing center over the thin lace of your panties, groaning when he feels how hot and wet you are under his touch, “No wonder you can’t think straight, hm? So messy.”

You whimper helplessly in his lap,  hands scrabbling before they tightly cling to the forearm he has halfway under your skirt. “Oh, fuck,” you breathe heavily, head swimming as his fingers press down on your aching clit before circling the bud slowly, the lace of your underwear only adding to the fire building within you, “Oh, my God!”

Michael grunts lowly into your ear as he twirls his fingers against you, nipping at your neck as he rocks against you from below. “Here’s how this is gonna go, love,” he whispers lowly, speeding up the movements of his long fingers against you, “If you can get the formula right, you can come…”

“Wha–!” You splutter, your chest already heaving as you struggle to catch your breath, nails digging into his forearm as you feel the knot in your stomach already beginning to tighten; Michael had made it his mission over the last few weeks to learn every little thing that made you tick, and Christ, if he wasn’t a fast learner, “T-That’s not–”

“If you can’t get it right,” he continues, smirking against your cheek as he presses his fingers ever tighter into the column of your throat, “Then I’ll just keep edging and edging you until I’ve gotten my fill of those precious fucking noises you make, hm?”

You struggle in his hold, not getting very far as his touch has already reduced your muscles to jelly. Your hips keep rutting up into his fingers despite your feeble attempts to stop yourself, knowing he absolutely means to make good on his threats. With a defeated whine, you let your head loll to the side on his shoulder, burying your face against the pale expanse of his neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, you breathe in his now-familiar scent, although that only serves to put you more on edge. 

Michael suddenly moves, sitting up straighter in his desk chair and bringing you with him, causing you to yelp a bit. He keeps a steady hold on you as he leans forward, his fingers never ceasing their circular movements on your aching clit as he tilts you forward, angling your head so you’re once again face-to-face with the textbook and notes still laid out on the desk. 

“Now,” he starts, resting his chin on your shoulder as his eyes scan over the pages in front of you both, seemingly wholly unbothered with your current state, “What’s the first step?”

You can feel your eyes stinging with unshed tears as you blearily look over the paper, your eyes not really focusing on anything as you feel the knot in your stomach pull tighter and tighter with each movement of his hands against you. 

“M-Michael, I–” Your voice sticks in your throat, your hips moving entirely of their own accord in his lap as your walls clench desperately around nothing, that familiar growing ache nearly taking over your entire center as your breath hitches. 

“Ooh,” he murmurs with saccharine sympathy, quickly pulling his fingers from you just before you fall over the edge; you can feel him smirking wickedly against your cheek as you twitch against him, letting out mournful little whines, “That was a close one, wasn’t it, pretty girl?”

The room feels as if it’s spinning as you come down from your almost-high, your walls throbbing as low cries slip past your lips. “F-Fuck…” you sigh hoarsly, hips still pathetically twitching against his jean-clad lap. 

“I know you know this,” his breath is warm against your cheek as he angles his head toward yours, blond hair tickling the side of your face as he peers at you from behind his glasses, “Be a good fucking girl and tell me which step is first and I’ll touch you again.”

Your eyes frantically scan over the problem as you will yourself to remember something, anything, from one of Professor Davies’s lectures last week, your hands abandoning Michael’s forearm to white-knuckle the edge of his desk instead as you try to steady yourself. 

“Y-You, uhm, you multiply,” you start, swallowing heavily as something finally seems to click together in your brain, “You multiply the exponents, daddy.” 

You practically preen under his touch as you feel more so than hear the pleased hum he lets out. “Very good,” he drawls slowly, pressing soft kisses against your cheek, “See? I knew there was something going on in that head of yours.” You know he’s taunting you on purpose, pulling out every trick he knows will make you blush, though you can’t bring yourself to care as you feel your heart soar with his praises. 

A loud moan tumbles past your lips as he resumes touching you, his fingers once again teasing your clit through the thin fabric of your panties, the aching bud now all the more sensitive to his touches after you were denied an orgasm. You nearly double over on his lap as pleasure immediately zings up your spine, your muscles tensing in his hold. 

His hand abandons your throat and pulls out from under your shirt completely as he reaches for your pen and quickly scribbles down the first step of the formula, easily multiplying the numbers in his head before setting your pen back down. 

“Now then, what’s next, love?” He chuckles meanly against your cheek as you whine. He groans appreciatively as he feels your arousal leaking into your panties, soaking the fabric against his fingers while his other hand comes up to cup your breast over your shirt, feeling your aching nipple pressing against his hand even through the fabric. 

This game continues for what feels like an eternity, his fingers delicately teasing you right up to your breaking point before he cruelly yanks his hand away as he quizzes you again and again until you slowly but surely work your way through each step of the problem. 

You’re a sweaty mess on his lap now, skin damp and flushed as he pulls his hand away for what must be the hundredth time, although in reality it’s only the fifth. You let out a feeble whine, long past begging and pleading as you know it won’t do any good. 

“You’re so close,” he teases, chuckling to himself at the double meaning of his words, “Just need to solve it now, pretty baby. The sooner you do, the sooner I’ll make you come.” He promises, patting his fingers over the soaked patch on your panties just enough to make you jump. 

“D-Daddy, please!” You sniffle, no longer trying to reign in the tears streaming down your cheeks as your center aches and clenches, empty, “Please, I need–”

“You need to answer the fucking question,” he grunts through clenched teeth, one hand still cupping your spasming center while the other shoots up to your neck, angling your head toward the paper once more, “You asked me for help, love. And I’d say this is helping; looks like that empty little brain is able to recall information after all.” He teases, smirking cruelly as he ruts against your ass, taunting you with his hard length yet again. “Come on,” he continues, urging you on, “You’re doing so, so well for daddy. Just need the last little bit.”

Your head spins as you look at the paper and you halfway wonder if your fingers have made intents in the wood of his desk yet, “It’s, it’s the yearly salary,” you say quickly, voice high-pitched and breathy, “T-The yearly salary over twelve, fuck, m-months.” You rush out, squeezing your eyes shut. 

Somehow, more blood seems to rush to your cheeks as he gasps in fake surprise, really laying it on thick for you. “Oh, what a good girl!” He praises, arms wrapping around you tightly as you squirm in his hold, his warm body pressing against yours only making your need greater, “I knew you could do it, that’s right, love!” 

Quickly, he multiplies the numbers you indicated, mumbling under his breath as he quickly thinks through the equation. A few seconds later, you hear your pen moving against the paper as he scribbles down your answer, circling it with an over-done flourish. 

“You’ve done it!” He coos happily, pressing kiss after kiss to the side of your cheek, trailing them down your jaw and neck, “You want your prize now?” He asks lowly, trailing his hand back up your thigh slowly, fingers just barely skimming over your throbbing center. 

All at once, you seem to come back to yourself as the fog lifts momentarily behind your eyes as your desperation drives you. You nod your head frantically as you turn on his lap, finally facing him and relishing the sweet, proud smile spread across his lps. 

“Please, Michael, daddy,” you ramble, pressing kisses against his cheeks and neck before he finally angles his head and catches your lips with his; the two of you sigh into the kiss, yours morphing into a desperate whine as you press your chest against his, shivering as your nipples peak from the warmth of his body alone. His tongue licks along your lower lip before he gently nips at it, chuckling as you mewl into his mouth as his tongue meets yours. You kiss him frantically, sighing happily when he delicately sucks your tongue into his mouth before you pull away with a whimper. “Please, please, I need it,” you murmur against his lips, clinging to his shoulders, “I can’t wait any longer, please!”

He shushes you with a soft laugh, hands skimming over your waist. “D’you want my mouth or my fingers, pretty girl?” He mutters softly, holding you steady on his lap.

“Mouth!” You answer instantly, making him chuckle at your desperation, “Please, please!”

“On the bed,” he commands, giving you one last kiss before pushing you up, helping to steady your shaky legs, “Good girl.” He praises again, patting your ass teasingly when you finally steady yourself enough to cross the room, stopping to kick off your shoes quickly before sitting yourself down on the bed.

Michael follows after you, smirking as he kneels on the bed, one foot still on the floor. He smiles and cups both of your cheeks, kissing you once more like he can’t get enough. “You, pretty girl, are very overdressed,” He drawls, waiting for your subtle nod before pulling your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor by the bed. “Holy…” his eyes are wide as he stares at your chest, taking in the way the delicate lace perfectly cups your breasts, nipples visible through the thin material, already hardened from his earlier ministrations. 

Upon seeing his reaction, you get bold. Smirking, you pull up your skirt, spreading your legs as you draw your knees up to your chest, giving him a perfect view of your matching panties; the lace, long since soaked through with your arousal, practically glimmers in the low lamp-light of his room. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, one hand adjusting his hard length, straining against his jeans as his blue eyes sweep over you, taking in every flawless inch, “To what do I owe the honor, hm?” He finally collects himself, smirking again as he reaches out to lightly skim a finger over the soft silk of one strap of your bra. He’s never seen you in something this nice, and certainly never a matching set, the sight of the soft lace against your skin would be enough to make him finish in his jeans if he weren’t careful. 

“Wanted to wear something special for you…” You say with a small shrug, heat rising to your cheeks once again as you look up at him shyly through your lashes. 

He tilts his head to the side, clearly not picking up on the deeper meaning behind your words as he squints his eyes at you, confused. “Why…why would you wanna wear something special for me, love?” He questions softly, his voice coming out more as a breath than words. 

“Michael,” you sigh, squirming under his affectionate gaze as you gather every ounce of confidence in your body. You swallow as your eyes dart between his, your heart quickly speeding up in your chest; you take a deep breath, Louise’s words echoing in your head, “I…I really like you.” You say simply, carefully watching his reaction.

“You…do?” He asks slowly, eyebrows shooting up in surprise, his eyes widening as he watches you nod with a shy smile. “Why me?” His voice is smaller this time, his whole body seeming to deflate as he sits back on the edge of his bed, shoulders slumped as one foot still rests against the wooden floor. 

“Why wouldn’t I like you?” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, head cocking to the side as you move closer to him, placing a hand on his knee. 

He sighs heavily, glancing up at you before looking down to where your hand rests on his leg, “No one really does.” He finally sighs, his eyes downcast.

Without thinking, you move closer to him, pressing yourself against him as you practically climb into his lap. This time, it’s your turn to gently cup his cheeks, your thumbs resting just under the gold rims of his glasses as you angle his head toward you. “I do,” you say softly before frowning a bit, pulling away just an inch, “Do…do you not feel the same way?”

“No!” He says quickly, shaking his head as he grabs at you, pulling you back toward him, “I mean yes! I mean,” he sighs frustratedly, running a hand through his hair as he swallows heavily, “I do like you, I– Fuck, I don’t know who I’m kidding, I’ve never liked anyone this much,” he says softly, smiling as he watches your eyes grow wide, “I just…never thought a girl like you would want much to do with me.”

“What does that mean?” You whisper, heart hammering so hard in your chest you’re sure he can hear it with as little distance as there is between the two of you.

“I…,” he pauses, chuckling bitterly, “I guess I always assumed you’d wind up with Catton or…or one of his little minions. Everyone does.” 

“Everyone?”

He tilts his head up to stare at the ceiling for a second, like he’s willing himself to tell you some deep, dark secret. Finally, he fixes his gaze on you again, one hand fiddling with the seam at the bottom of your skirt. “He was my friend once,” he begins, his voice soft and uncertain, “I don’t think I ever meant much to him, he just took me in as some charity case. To help the weirdo loner boy, I guess.”

You stay silent as he pauses, watching him carefully as he speaks. The corners of his mouth twitch before finally dropping into a frown, his eyebrows pulling together as if he were in pain. 

“I don’t know what happened in the end, to be honest,” he continues, blinking his eyes as he shuffles through memories, “I think maybe I wasn’t falling in line enough – I didn’t just blindly follow him like the others. He must’ve gotten tired of it cause one day I got to school and everyone just acted as if I wasn’t there, even mates I’d had before. They all just got pulled into his orbit and left me.”

“Michael…” you coo softly, thumbs lightly brushing over his cheeks.

“And then, one night I went to the pub with– with Oliver.” He practically spits his name, nose twitching with anger. 

“Oliver?” You question, the name ringing a bell as your eyes narrow, trying to picture his face, “Oliver Quick, you mean?”

He nods, eyes flitting around his room before they settle on you again. “He was my friend…I thought he was anyway. Way back at the start of term,” he sighs, lips pulling up in a sardonic smile, “We went to the pub one evening to celebrate finally finishing some paper or whatever, and…you were there.”

“I was?” You pull back from him a fraction of an inch in shock, your eyes flitting over his face.

“Mhm,” he hums, nodding his head, “Sitting at a table with Catton and all the rest of the cunts.”

“Felix and I were never that close Mich–”

“And I got up to get another pint and when I got back…he was gone.” He continued, huffing out a bitter laugh. 

“Oliver?”

“Yep,” he nods, hands gripping your waist more firmly as if he’s trying to anchor you to him, “He’d gone to sit with you lot and never so much as looked my way again. Then, once Professor Davies’s class started, I…Fuck, I liked you from the minute you walked through the door on the first day, love.”

“You did?” You smile at his confession, thinking back to all those months ago.

He hums again, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he buries his face in your neck, glasses smushed against his cheek, “‘N then I realized where I knew you from and I…lost hope. Got jealous. Doesn’t matter I just…I was so determined not to like you.”

“But…you do?”

He hums again, nodding against your cheek, “I remember kicking myself when I agreed to tutor you,” he laughs, breath fanning over your neck and collarbone, “But you’re really not like them, hm?”

You shake your head emphatically, holding him tighter to you as if that will somehow better prove your point, “I’m not.” You say simply, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. 

The two of you stay silent for a moment before Michael’s shoulders start shaking a little; you pull back a bit, worried that he’s upset until you see he’s laughing, gazing at you as if you were some ethereal being. “I cannot believe you fucking like me,” he laughs, damn near giggling, “No one bloody likes me.”

You can’t help but laugh with him, leaning your forehead against his. “Well, fuck them,” you say firmly with a cheeky grin, “I like you enough for every damn idiot in this school.”

The two of you laugh together for another moment before you feel that familiar heat building in your belly again, never able to stave it off very long when you’re in his presence. Michael must feel it too, one second you’re laughing with him and the next his fingers are threading through the hair at the back of your head and pulling you in for a hard kiss, pressing his lips desperately against yours as if he’s trying to prove to himself you won’t disappear. You whimper softly as his tongue licks into your mouth, swallowing his groans as you move your lips fluidly against his before he pulls away quickly.

“Gotta fucking taste you, love,” he whispers roughly, hands blindly searching for the clasp of your bra. You feel it pop open a moment later, a low, victorious hum sounding from his chest as he finally pulls it off, tossing it off the bed to land next to your shirt, “Fuck, I love these tits.” He groans hotly, quickly kissing down your shoulder and chest before taking a pert nipple into his mouth, making you gasp loudly.

“Oh, fuck!” You moan, eyes squeezing shut as you finally feel his mouth on you, head spinning at the way his tongue teases over your sensitive nipple before he sucks it into his hot mouth, “Michael, please, need it!” You whine pitifully, rutting yourself down on his thigh. 

He guides you back gently, coaxing you to lay down on his bed as his hands push up under your short skirt once more to quickly pull your panties down, tossing them over his shoulder. “Not Michael, baby, remember?” He asks teasingly, pushing your thighs up and hooking his hands behind your knees. 

He guides your knees up and up until your knees are pressed against your chest, all the while pressing soft kisses to the backs of your thighs as he peers up at you over his gold-rimmed glasses, strands of blond hair resting against his forehead. 

“Please, daddy!” You correct yourself quickly, not wanting to take any chances of him teasing you further. You wiggle your hips in his grasp, making him chuckle lowly as he presses kisses closer and closer to where you want him. Giggling, damn near giddy with the excitement of having his mouth on you, you reach down and gently pull his glasses off and reach up to set them on the small table beside his bed. 

“Shh, you’ll get it,” he promises, breath hot against your slick folds as he uses his thumbs to spread you apart, groaning appreciatively when he sees how wet you are, how your pussy clenches tightly around nothing, “You earned it, my love.” 

The pet name sends you into a tailspin almost as much as the feeling of his warm tongue pressing against your clit does. You let out a long, satisfied moan at the feeling of it, arching your hips up into his mouth. 

His groan of satisfaction vibrates through you, only adding to the sensations of his lips and tongue on your aching center. “Fucking hell,” he mumbles, releasing his hold on one thigh to run two long fingers through your slick, gathering it as he teases your entrance, “It’s been far too long.” He groans, speaking more to your throbbing core than you, the thought sending another zap of pleasure swirling up your spine. 

“It’s been, like, a week!” Your giggle turns into a breathy moan as he kisses your clit, gently suckling it between his lips as he carefully slips two fingers into you, immediately crooking them up against the spot that he knows will drive you wild. 

“Too long,” he grunts into your folds, tongue sweeping over the length of you before he teases it at your clit. “Fuck, if I could eat this sweet little cunt every day, I would.” 

Your eyes roll back in your head and your back arches as he feasts on you, shaking his head back and forth to bury his face further into your heat. He growls into you as he licks into your entrance, removing his fingers for a moment to fuck his tongue into you, savoring your sweet taste while the tip of his nose rubs perfectly over your clit. 

“Fuck, fuck, oh, fuck,” you gasp, body jerking and twitching as pleasure floods through you, the knot in your stomach growing dangerously tight at just a few touches, “D-Daddy, I’m— oh, fuck!” You cry, arching your back as he slips his fingers into you, expertly fucking and curling them against that rough patch within you, making stars dance behind your eyelids. 

“Y’getting close?” Michael murmurs around your clit, sucking it into his mouth and laving his tongue over it before letting it slip from his lips with a wet pop, “S’okay, my love, come on. You don’t need to ask for it, baby girl, you’ve earned it, just come.” He coaxes, slipping a third finger in beside the first two and grinning when he hears you cry out at the added stretch.

You breathe heavily, chest heaving as you pant, wanton whimpers and whines spilling past your lips as your fingers weave into his golden hair. Michael’s eyes roll back in his head at the feeling, so pleased with himself that he can make you feel this good, that he can pull these sounds from you that he groans, long and low, into your cunt as he licks and sucks at your folds, flicking his tongue over your swollen bud. 

“Can feel you getting tight, pretty girl,” his lips move against your clit as he speaks, “This sweet cunt wants to milk daddy’s fingers, doesn’t she? Fucking let her, baby, come on.” 

The knot inside your belly implodes on itself as your body loses all sense of rhythm, every muscle contracting and relaxing as waves of pleasure finally wash over you. You can feel your walls pulsing around Michael’s fingers as your high consumes you, a garbled moan of his name leaving your lips as you shake against him. 

He doesn’t let up, digits pressing tightly against the spot inside you as he lewdly spits onto your cunt, loudly slurping it up as he continues to fuck you with his fingers, sucking your still-pulsing bud into his mouth as he does. 

“T-Too much!” You whimper, squirming in his hold as you feel yet another high quickly building within you, “Michael, d-daddy, please!” 

“Hush,” he huffs, speeding up his movements enough to make you squeal as tears spring to your eyes, “You know what I want, baby girl, give it to me, let yourself have it.”

You grunt loudly as another wave consumes you, your eyes tightly squeezing shut when you feel yourself contracting around his thick fingers yet again. You’re so lost within yourself, you barely hear the slick, sloshing sounds emanating from your heat, but you certainly hear the deep, proud moan that Michael lets out, eyes widening as he watches your cunt squirt around his fingers, droplets wetting his wrist and the sheets on his bed. 

You’re practically sobbing by the time he slows his fingers to a stop and gingerly pulls his fingers from you, shushing you gently when you whimper. “What a good girl,” he says softly, noisily licking his fingers clean of the evidence of your release, “Did so good for me, baby.” 

The soft praises help you come back to yourself, brain returning to your body in just enough time to get a glimpse of Michael’s face before he buries it in your neck, a blush creeping across your cheeks from the shine of your release on his lips and chin. 

“Thank you.” You whisper tiredly, eyes slipping shut as he presses kisses to your neck and jaw. 

He laughs softly, leaning on his side next to you, one hand tracing up and down your body as he looks you over. “You wanna keep going or did I wear you out?” 

You keep your eyes shut even as a playful smile slinks across your lips, a small giggle slipping past your lips as you wiggle your hips enticingly, making him chuckle with you. 

The bed shifts suddenly, causing you to peek one eye open. “There she is,” Michael laughs when you open both eyes fully, watching as he quickly pulls his t-shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor to join yours. He stays on his knees as he unbuttons his jeans, giving you plenty of time to take in his pale chest and stomach, covered in a light wash of blond hair that tapers off to a trail, disappearing beneath the denim around his slender waist, “Want my cock, baby?” He asks, leaning back down beside you as he kicks off his jeans and boxers, cock springing out and resting hotly against your thigh. 

Biting your lip, you can’t help but reach down and stroke him gently, a soft sigh leaving you at the sight of his perfect length. Michael grunts next to you, his head tilting back ever so slightly as he finally feels some stimulation on his cock. The delicate sound makes your heart race, knowing you could bring him such pleasure from such a simple touch. A blush blooms on your cheeks as you gaze up at him through your lashes, eyes wide as you smirk and wiggle your hips enticingly. 

He smiles at you, eyes sweeping over your form admiringly, before finally meeting your eyes, slightly squinting as he looks at you without his glasses. 

“I’ll take that as a yes?” He teases, chuckling as you nod eagerly and tuck your behind your knees, holding your legs up to your chest as your skirt looks around your middle. He leans in and kisses you softly, a certain emotion behind his movements that hasn’t ever been there before. He keeps you close as he moves, never taking his lips off of yours while he maneuvers himself on top of you, slotting himself between your thighs with a pleased exhale. 

Your back arches as you feel him slide his cock between your folds, the head slipping perfectly against your clit. You grasp onto his shoulders to anchor yourself, mewling into his mouth as his hands grab onto the backs of your knees once more, holding you open for him. His lips trail down your jaw and neck, stopping to nip lightly at your skin, before continuing downward to your breasts. He licks and kisses over each one, paying special attention to your nipples and laughing softly at the cacophony of whimpers and whines you make as he teases them with his tongue. 

“I’ve got you,” he sighs, pulling back just enough to grasp his cock, notching the head inside your opening, just enough to make you gasp and squirm, “Y’wanna go dumb on my cock, babygirl?” He says lowly, resting his forehead against yours as he bends down enough to make the muscle in the back of your thigh ache with the stretch. 

“Oh, please!” You breathe, canting your hips up in an attempt to get even just a bit more of his cock into you, “Please, daddy!” 

With a growl, Michael slowly slips inside you, humming deep in his chest as he does, his eyes slipping closed as he savors your tight, wet heat. 

“F-Fuck,” you squeak out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he fills you completely, his girth stretching you to the brim, leaving no part of you untouched, “You feel so good!” You whine, eyes fluttering as you try desperately to remain focused on him, never tiring of the expressions he makes when he’s inside you. 

Slowly, he begins thrusting into you, groaning lowly as your fingers grip tighter at his shoulders. His blue eyes roll back in his head, brows furrowing as he slowly speeds up, rocking into you in a perfect motion. 

“Feels so good,” he gasps out, ardently biting and sucking at your neck as he does, angling his hips to make sure the tip of his cock presses against that sensitive spot inside you, “So fucking tight, shit.” 

The two of you move together, his hips smacking against the backs of your thighs as he plunges in and out of you. You can’t help but blush when the wet, squelching sound of your cunt begins drowning out the sharp gasps leaving your lips every time he thrusts back in, the tip of his cock brushing deliciously against the very back of your heat. 

A rumbling laugh sounds in his chest as he hears it too, making you flush somehow deeper as he fixes you with a filthy grin. “Little pussy loves me, huh?” He rasps, groaning at the sight of you trying frantically to answer, your mouth hanging open as useless whines and moans warble past your lips. “She does, hm? Pretty cunt loves daddy’s cock.” 

“Yeah, yeah— fuck!” You mumble, nodding your foggy head as best as you can as you gaze up at him longingly, breasts bouncing along with his thrusts, “L-Love it, daddy, fuck!” 

He moans softly and grinds himself against you, driving you nearly insane as the small thatch of hair above his cock rubs against your clit deliciously. Your arms shoot out, wrapping around his neck tightly and dragging him down to you, needing something to hold onto as your walls clench down hard on his length, every thrust into you making you see stars. 

His hands drop from your knees, arms locking around your neck in turn, pulling you up to him. Your legs lock tightly around his waist, the two of you as pressed together as you can get, your breasts pressed tightly against his chest. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers hoarsely as his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your face back just enough to meet your eyes, “So pretty, so good.” He chokes out, eyes frantically darting between the two of yours, chest heaving as he pants. 

You mewl harshly as his thrusts speed up even more, eyes nearly crossing as the head of his cock pounds perfectly against each sensitive spot inside you at the same time his abdomen grinds against your sensitive, swollen clit. You claw desperately at his back as you feel your walls clench and pulse around his length, well aware you won’t be able to hold on much longer but unable to warn him. 

Fortunately for you, Michael has committed your tells to memory, even in the few short weeks the two of you have been intimate. “Come,” he commands harshly, gasping out the word just as you feel his length beginning to twitch inside you, “Fuck, come love, come.” 

You nod your head wildly, rutting your hips against his as you shiver, your walls growing ever tighter on his length as you hang helplessly over the edge of your high. 

“I fucking love you,” he grunts suddenly, squeezing his eyes shut and burying his face in your neck, mouthing uncontrollably at your neck as he keeps mumbling, “I love you, I love you, I love you so—shit, so fucking much! Fucking come, babygirl, come!” 

Your head spins at his confession, heart hammering wildly in your chest as your high slams into you. You seize under him, shaking and crying as you pulse around his length, tears leaking into your hairline while you moan loudly, hips rutting wildly against him as you pull him somehow closer with your legs around his waist. 

In the back of your mind, you hear him grunting harshly into your ear, squeezing the life out of you while he trembles, thrusting harshly into you one, two, three more times before stilling, hard cock pulsing wildly as he empties into you, flooding your walls with his warm spend. 

Both of you pant harshly, a shiny sheen of sweat covering you. After a moment, you finally relax and your legs slip from around his waist, flopping lazily onto his bed. 

You let out a breathy laugh as you look over him, his head still resting against your chest. His blond hair is messy, sticking up in all sorts of ways from where you’d run your fingers through it. Slowly, he relaxes against you too, slumping against you as he sighs tiredly, eventually matching your own spent laugh. Yours eyes slip closed after a moment and you let out a relaxed hum when you feel him tracing shapes onto your shoulder. 

“I love you too.” 

You giggle when his head instantly shoots up, tired eyes immediately meeting yours as he squints, “Y-You do?” The shock on his face is clear and he blushes so heavily the pink color extends all the way to the tops of his ears. 

“For someone so smart you can be really dense,” you laugh, grinning as he sheepishly smiles at you, “How could I not?”

“Say it again,” he asks softly, a clear need in his eyes, “Please.” 

“I love you, Michael Gavey.” You murmur, pushing a strand of hair off of his forehead. 

He preens momentarily, shoulders seeming to square off with a newfound confidence before a familiar smirk lights upon his face. “No need to be so formal about it, love,” he quips, slowly pulling his softening length from your soaked core, shushing you sweetly as he does, “Daddy will do just fine.” 

You roll your eyes with a laugh, playfully smacking his shoulder. “I’m trying to be sweet and you’re being an ass as usual!” 

He snickers softly, biting his lip with a groan when he leans back to watch his cum slowly leak from you. “Well, lucky I’m your ass.” He smirks, laying beside you as he rests his head on his pillow. 

“Oh, so you’re mine now?” You ask blithely, skimming a finger down one of his long arms. 

“Mhm,” he hums, surprising you by lifting one of your thighs; you whine when his fingers connect with your center once again, gingerly gathering his cum leaking from you before pressing it back in slowly, working it into you with a smirk, “And you’re all mine, gotta make sure to claim you properly.” 

You shudder at his words, biting your lip as you feel a familiar fog invading your mind once again. You don’t bother protesting, not even attempting to make a quick quip as you lean in and kiss him softly. A hot hand against your cheek makes you pull back, smirking when your eyes finally focus on his fingers, still shining with your combined juices. 

“Jesus,” he breathes as he watches you take his fingers into your mouth, your own hands holding him steady at his forearm as you greedily suck at his fingers, “I fucking love you.” 

“I love you too,” you giggle, finally pulling off his fingers with a soft pop, letting his hand rest against your waist as the two of you lie contently together on his bed, facing each other. 

You see his eyelids begin to droop tiredly, a small sigh leaving his lips as he relaxes, “You know, you do have to actually help me study later.” You point out, laughing as he groans sleepily. 

“Only if it ends with you on my cock.” He mumbles, pulling him closer to you as his breathing begins to even out. 

“Like it hasn’t ended that way every time before?” You jokingly question as you let your eyes trace over his features, taking in his strong nose and jaw, smiling at the way his lips are still quirked up at the edges. Eventually, your eyes begin to droop too and you snuggle into him, breathing in his familiar scent as you drift off, something woodsy yet bookish, mixed with something that’s entirely Michael.

Your Michael.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenswife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @officerbrowneyes

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[fillinforlater]

Spaceship: Horizon - Season Finale: How did we get here?

Male Reader x Miyawaki Sakura & Choi Yena

Length: 2480 words

Tags: a lot of what the fucks, a lot of fucks, sudden sex, sex as a reward, threesome, friendly rivalry, blowjobs, forced deepthroat, 69, pussy eating, face sitting, snowballing, cowgirl, overstimulation, very numb, very exhausted, very confusing, commander!Sakura / dorky!Yena / puzzled!You

TW: Kinda forced with a lot of plot point coming together. Feel free to back read ;)

Inspiration: A lot of ppl wanted Kkura, other wanted Yena, and I wanted to finish one of my many plans I had for this season finale. This series is super old, hell, I don't even remember all the things I set up and names lol.

Credit: @midnightdancingsol for the late edit. Really saved some stuff, tbh. You're the best.

(A/N: FInally, we are! Season two wrapped up after HUGE holes in between lmao. A lot my newer reader might not even know this series exists lmao. This was always supposed to be my flagship, but yeah, I guess others are more well-liked. Enjoy this season finale, it (probably) won't be the last!)

“Hm! Look, he is waking up, Commander!”

“Stop calling me that, Yena! These titles are absurd.”

The ceiling above you is familiar. The cushions below you are familiar. The two do not evoke positive memories, unlike the two familiar voices that argue for a brief period of time, before they stop. 

Two pairs of eyes look down on you. They sparkle in excitement and thrill—at seeing you, perhaps?

“Sakura? Yena?” you call out the two names you associate with those orbs and reach for where you assume their bodies are. Texture—an arm, a hand. This is reality and not some weird lucid dream. You have experienced enough of those in the past to be cautious, but luckily, both Sakura and Yena are real.

“Welcome back!” Yena shouts. She wraps an arm around your nape and her following hug leaves you breathless for a second, her sizable breasts for another. 

“Back?” you respond, mildly confused, although it is nothing new to you that this girl says random shit again and again without explaining herself.

“Aw, Commander, look at him! He is a literal war hero and doesn’t even know it.”

Yena giggles, thus Sakura gives her a quick slap on the butt. It was certainly not a kind slap, but the idol does not look angry at all. The excitement and amusement do not disappear from her. It’s all absurd. It would all make more sense if you died and went to heaven. No more aliens that want you to record porn, just the weird, dorky, sexy guide from the spaceship and your favorite idol. Sounds like heaven, alright.

“War hero? Damn, I can’t even remember the battle I fought, but it explains why I’m dead.”

Sakura shakes her head.

“Yena, please, this poor guy is completely lost. Enlighten him about everything he asks for. We got the time.”

Yena suddenly straightens her posture. Like a news anchor delivering important, serious information, she tries to stare at you, but her attempt fails. Her laughter echoes off the walls and through the large room. She repeatedly slaps her thigh in loud amusement. Sakura looks pissed.

“Yena! Get your act together!”

“But how would you tell him? It sounds so weird when I try to put it into words!”

“Weird?” you say confusedly. “Nothing can be weird to me now. We are on a fucking spaceship with aliens that can shapeshift and want to film us have sex.”

Yena laughs again. “Oh boy, about that!”

Sakura, visibly at the end of her patience, plants an angry hand on the younger girl's mouth. She glares at her, then at you, and says with a bit of resignation:

“All of the things you just said—they changed. A lot.”

“Huh? How so?” you say while giving looks to both of the girls and their banter. If they weren’t so cute, you’d cringe at their behavior.

“A couple of weeks ago,” Sakura begins as she still suffocates a teary-eyed Yena with the palm of her hand, “we found ways to communicate with other parts of the spaceship. It is absolutely gigantic, we still have no idea how big it actually—Yena, stop it now, please—is. A couple hundred kilometers in each direction, probably. At first we thought it was a trap, that these intelligent creatures would not allow us to meet up in secret and share information. But then, we found the reason: all of them were watching your videos. Every single one of them.”

“What do you me—please, no!”

Your fingers dig into your hair. It feels sweaty, greasy, and definitely unwashed, the new stress is not helping either. Your pornography spread further than you would have imagined. If these aliens saw it, then other people saw it too. The size of this ship makes you imagine that potentially millions of humans could have seen you naked and get it going with dozens of women. Well, there goes your reputation, even if you ever return to Earth.

“Listen to her, she is not finished,” Yena says with a large grin on her ducky facial features. She places a caring hand on your shoulder, while Sakura places a not-so-caring-but-rather-threatening-hand on hers. 

“Don’t interrupt me, please.”

“I won’t, Commander.”

“I said you—never mind. Anyways, these aliens were addicted to the porn, the sex. Something about it made them lose focus. They became sloppy and made mistakes that left holes for us to not only be able to communicate with more and more people, we also made plans to get more information about this place and how we could use this addiction to our advantage.”

“Maybe you noticed it too,” Yena barges in. “Some aliens—especially your Worker—must have been very affected by it. Being irrational, less caring, all that kinda stuff.”

You nod. He certainly was affected. Uncontrollable, maniacal, not paying attention, getting desperate for more material, Worker became a junkie for your fucking porn. 

Your mind spins at the thought. Where the hell is this leading up to?

“Just a couple of days ago,” Sakura continues with intensity, her eyes wide open, “we were able to throw away all our strategies and battle plans. The aliens started to evaporate. At first we thought it was a trick by them and that they figured it out, but then we got reports that they probably died due to an overdose of your porn. We knew their deaths, or rather obliteration, was inevitable. And so we watched them evaporate, one by one, and we took control of their positions. We found all kinds of young people held as cattle, tortured as slaves or being forcefully fed food. Not all of the experiments were cruel of course, but I think everyone is delighted that this shit is over.”

Sakura takes a deep breath and pinches her forehead. Her rambling wasn’t all that coherent, but she got the point across to you, which is—

“So… we won?”

Your question lingers in the air for a bit. The smell of sweat and some fine perfume reaches your nose for the first time since you woke up from your slumber. The mattress below you feels wet, your legs are still kind of numb. 

Oh, it must have been them who gave you the drug. They wanted you to film the ultimate video to finish the aliens off. The pieces of the puzzle are slowly coming together, but the picture couldn’t look any more bizarre. 

“Yes!” Yena exclaims and lunges herself at you. Her entire body presses onto yours, from thighs, to tummy, to titties. Yena doesn’t seem to care that you’re all sweaty. She looks genuinely happy.  It feels great, this feeling of victory, of freedom, Yena pushes it all onto you. 

“After we live streamed your holy-moly-crazy-orgy to the last remaining aliens, they all evaporated.”

“It sounds so stupid,” you giggle and shake your head, “but I guess I’m glad. I bet there are still so many insane things that happened. No need to tell me now, to be honest, I’m not sure I understood the things you already told me. But can I at least know why you didn’t tell me about it?”

“So it didn’t look forced,” Sakura says with the attempt of a wink, “We had no clue if you would have been able to perform under pressure if you knew what was at stake. We also like to keep these top secret issues in a small circle.”

“Damn, you all sound like the CIA.”

Yena rubs her cheek on yours as she gives another hearty laugh. 

“Our guerilla group really developed into a whole organization. It’s gotten even worse during the three days you were asleep.”

“Wait, what?” you groan defeated. Another three days of life missed for something you can’t grasp yet. And what the hell do they mean by organization? The questions don’t stop coming.

“Don’t worry!” Sakura flails her arms as she shifts closer to you as well, “We used the Helper system to keep you hydrated.”

“Wait, how? I don’t—”

“We have some smart people among us,” Yena says, her lips pouty, for some reason, “They were able to hack into the system, which is why we can communicate and use the Helpers to our benefit. Communication, water, food, hell, even teleportation. These things are amazing.”

“I—”

You stare at the ceiling. It’s the same, it’s been the same, it has not changed.

Your eyes open to the possibility that this is all fake, a dream to make you feel better. It’s a simple explanation for the absurdity tenfolding with every word the girls say. But can it be true? A dream this realistic and detailed, with all the right changes? 

Wait, maybe you really died a war hero and this was your reward. Like in those old, ancient stories—your brain is coming full circles. Damn this drug, damn this fucked up spaceship.

“—cannot understand, but I guess it’s fine.”

Silence, then the two girls giggle.

“Yes, it’s basically long story short,” Yena blurts out, “You fucked, fucked up things happened, the Aliens are fucked and we won. Everything is fine.”

Take a deep breath through your nostrils. The air still feels real, the wetness on your skin too, but most importantly, Sakura still smells as good as she did back then. You’re not dead, thank God, and apparently a porn star war hero, thank God? 

“Okay, whatever,” you respond and force your upper body into a sitting posture, “Can I please take a shower now? I smell of sweat and… other, more obscene bodily fluids.”

“Not so fast,” Sakura responds and sits down on your legs. Fuck, they are still numb, you can’t even fiddle them out underneath her light body.

“Let me in on it too, Commander!” Yena shouts and climbs next to you. She begins to pull at your shirt, while Sakura wiggles out your pants from under your butt. 

“What the—hey stop! We don’t need to film anything anymore, right?” you fight back with words, while your body surrenders immediately.

“You are right,” Sakura says as your cock springs free, already semi-hard, “No cameras. This is just for you, your reward.”

It might not be the first time that your favorite idol has taken your cock into her mouth, but there is something absolutely incredible about this time. She, the Sakura, is literally some Commander that gives a guinea pig porn star head for winning a war against shapeshifting aliens—oh yeah, and there is Yena, rubbing her now exposed breasts on your arm as her ducky lips suck your neck. It’s impossible to let that sink in.

You moan out in pleasure. It’s a miracle that your cock still works after what happened during the last session. Then again, it is Sakura who uses her skilled tongue and lips to make you hard and throbbing. 

Judging from Yena’s annoyed hums on your ear as she nibbles on it with great care, she feels neglected. Suddenly, one of her tits is in your mouth so you lazily suck on the hard nipple. Sakura hisses from in between your legs, your cock still in the warmth of her mouth. She stops sucking and jerks you off to properly address Yena.

“What are you doing? This is his reward, not yours! You can’t use him like your plaything.”

“Oh stop it, Commander! I know you want to ride his cock badly and cum on it like the needy bitch you always were while we watched the vi—”

“Fine, shut up!”

Through their bickering, they don’t seem to realize the mess of moans and whimpers you have become. Yena’s soft breast firmly placed in your mouth leaves your mind numb yet blissful, while Sakura’s hand goes up and down your cock at high speed. It’s like she is electrically charging you, to the point where you might explode. Why the fuck does a foreign hand feel so much better on your length than your own?

“Gimme some of that too,” Yena says and leaps at your crotch. At one moment, her chest was all you could see, the next moment it’s her pink pussy, hovering above your face. 

Lips on your tip make you beg for mercy, but the two don’t have any. Sakura pushes down on the back of Yena’s head and you unexpectedly penetrate her face deeply. Your entire cock disappears in her mouth and she slobbers all over it. A mix of saliva and lipstick covers your sweaty legs.. 

“Ye-Yena, K-Kura, I can’t—”

“You don’t like it?” Sakura asks, her tone missing seriousness entirely.

“No, I—fuck!”

Throw your head back as Yena moves. The warmth of her throat is gone and back again as soon as Sakura allows it. The idol is thrusting her friend—or are they just rivals—onto your shaft ferociously. Because of Yena’s firmly placed knees next to your shoulders, you are unable to stop them. All there is is your climax. Resign to it.

“Fuck, I c-can’t, hmpf!”

As the two girls work together to suck out your semen, Yena bluntly drops her cunt onto your lips, its scent a bewitching perfume to make you forget the pain of your overstimulated dick. She tastes delicious, her nectar drips into your groaning, gasping mouth. 

“My turn, finally!”

Yena pulls her stuffed mouth away, but your twitching, probably completely red cock doesn’t stay cold for long as Sakura lifts herself up and after a long hum goes down on your length, it bottoms out with ease, and your mind shuts off.

“So good!” Sakura screams and starts to ride you with no regards to your exhaustion or obvious overstimulation. Her body, flawless skin, flawless proportions, flawless everything, is uncontrollably fast yet she still finds a way to make it a show. Somehow, she is able to lift one of Yena’s legs high to give you a view of what is to come (granted, through Yena’s slick and suffocation, your eyesight is a bit dazed) and then pulls the cum-stuffed duck into a messy kiss. 

It’s not snowballing, it’s an avalanche. Cum drips from their loosely connected lips and tumbles down Sakura’s curves. Weird sucking and licking sounds fill the room as Yena tries to drink your whiteness before Sakura can steal it. The two girls fight and Yena continues to ride your face to not be outdone by the eager Sakura. You feel the remaining snow drip down on your tense torso, but they are eager to lick it off of you. 

This drags on for minutes, until their mix of pants, teases, giggles and actual words are only feral moans. In the confines of Sakura’s cavern, you survived the overstimulation and are ready for another release and possible death if the horny idol doesn’t stop afterwards. Luckily, she seems close as well. Yena also starts to rub her own clit frantically, more and more of her juice covers your features. 

The moment you all cum is surprisingly silent. There is a gasp here and there, wet smooches from fucking and face riding, but other than that, you all succumb to your release rather quietly. Sakura fucks your rod and it’s erupting seed deep into her cunt, while you make sure to open up for Yena to dump her fresh nectar into you. 

Wait a minute. Whose reward was this supposed to be again?

(A/N2: maybe mine? 😉😳)

[hyenagurl]

Opinion on drag queens? I can’t stand them tbh

im glad you asked tbh bc frankly i can’t really pinpoint my feelings entirely on them, its changed a lot over the years. when i was a 17-20 i was a HUGE drag race fan and i watched the show and posted on the subreddit, and this was when i first started exploring radical feminism so i wasnt unaware of the critiques going on about them here either. i guess back then i thought it was all in good fun. then a few years ago i lost interest in the show and like you i couldnt stand them anymore, i wrote them all off as overrated, sexist and tasteless caricatures of overblown femininity at best and actual degrading pornographic hateful stereotypes of women at worst (i considered then and now drag queens like trixie mattel, katya, detox icunt and raven to be the worst in this regard).

nowadays… im somewhere in the middle. while i dont know if i personally would go so far as to call it art (at least no more than i would consider the performance of femininity itself an ‘art’) i understand that it has its own history amongst gay men and i do think some of it has genuine merit as performance art - as in, some queens do put in the effort to make their own costumes, do their own choreography, etc. but on the other hand for that, if it is going to be evaluated as a performance art, then like other forms of art it should absolutely be held to the same standards of criticism, and shouldnt be shielded from that criticism just bc its an art created primarily by a marginalized group of gay men (or HST trans women). and thats where the very real feminist critiques on the misogyny in drag comes in, and it disgusts me that any concerns women have are written off as us being joykills or no better than conservative pukes or whatever. gay men are still capable of being misogynist towards women so it shouldnt be surprising at all that a good portion of drag queens are performing a sexist caricature of women (like the ones i mentioned above, those are considered to be the most famous and successful, go figure).

i think what really cemented this view in my mind was this clip that went viral awhile ago of this drag queen running around in a public space with this huge ridiculous floppy breastplate that was bouncing around… but then he ran into this group of children and he IMMEDIATELY cringed and covered himself. and it kinda just clicked for me for how weird some of this is, in a way that nobody but feminists were talking about. you have this grown man gleefully running around with this gross and porny and realistic looking piece of womens flesh worn over his body, because thats supposed to be funny and entertaining, and everyone takes it a face value and doesnt wonder what that says about how we view womens bodies?

i think the conservative backlash towards them in general is massively overblown, i dont think drag queens are in themselves inappropriate to be near children because feminine men are not inappropriate, altho i do think naked men or men wearing realistic breast plates or fetish gear ARE inappropriate to be around children, but thats just common sense lol, and yet both leftists and right wing morons fail to grasp this, that not all drag is child friendly, and similarly that some drag is misogynistic as well. (alot of them are mostly overrated as performers too…)

so yeah tldr i have mixed feelings towards them that can be best summed up as a passive annoyance or ambivalence. i agree that some of its very misogynistic and offensive, but that it varies from queen to queen. im sorry if this was meandering, im still trying to figure out my feelings towards them, and im hoping i can find some more feminist critiques on them to help me gather my thoughts towards them better lol

[fun8869]

Denise was a woman who really knew how to stand out. She was stunningly beautiful. 5’ 6 inches tall, black, with huge almond shaped eyes that always seemed to look suggestive, a full mouth and a beautiful smile. She also had an extremely curvaceous figure created by the combination of a big round bottom, massive 36EE breasts and a tiny waist that were shown off perfectly by the short sleeve top that clung to her breasts, black skin tight leggings and a pair of black high heeled shoes. As soon as I saw her I did a double take and as I admired her figure she looked me up and down and gave me a full blown smile. It was obvious I was staring at her and feeling I had to say something I came out with the worst chat up line ever. ‘You won’t stay looking as good as you do eating that!’ gesturing at the Microwave meal in her basket. Even as I said it I cringed and was very relieved when she smiled and replied. ‘Oh really, and are you always in the habit of lecturing strange women on the dangers of ready meals or did you just decide to pick on me?’ she said giving me a wicked smile. ‘No, just you… and you don’t look strange!’ ‘I think that’s a compliment’ she said laughing.

For a second I felt quite awkward. ‘Yes, I think there was a compliment in there somewhere’ I said, ‘it just wasn’t obvious’. ‘Do you want to try again’ she said looking at me demurely. ‘Ok’ I said, straightening my tied like it was an interview. ‘I don’t normally chat women up who buy microwave meals’ I said grinning. ‘But I thought in your case I would make an exception, its just that I’m failing miserably’. She laughed. ‘And who said you are failing? Perhaps I might like a coffee?’ I have to admit she was clearly making this easy for me and confidence returning I replied. ‘Well if you are asking me for a coffee I won’t say no. Where do you want to take me?’ I said giving her my cheekiest grin. She stood looking at me for a second, returned the meal to the shelf and walked away. ‘Aren’t you coming?’. We both laughed and leaving the store we introduced ourselves and walked across the road to a coffee shop where I ordered drinks as she sat at a table.

Over coffee we chatted about our work and she told me she only lived around the corner. After mentioning that I was a part time Personal Trainer we chatted about exercise and nutrition. ‘I could do with some exercise’ she said looking suggestively. I looked at her cheekily. ‘Oh I think of several things I could do to help you get fit’ I said smiling. ‘I bet you do’ she answered coyly. For the next thirty minutes the conversation increasingly became more sexual and she commented that she thought I would be extremely demanding when I train someone. I sat looking at her intensely and told her to drink up. ‘Why?’ ‘Because I thought we could go back to yours and I could give you some one to one training’. I sat straight faced as she sat looking at me wondering if I was being serious or not. ‘And why would I do that?’ she said. ‘You wanted some advice on fitness and now is your chance. A one to one full body workout… and it won’t cost you a thing’. She looked across at me dubiously and smiled. ‘Yeah right, like you aren’t going to want something in return’. ‘Well if you’re offering’ I said letting the sentence hang in the air, smiling. Standing up I gestured to the door and after some hesitation she shook her head in resignation and walked to the door, giving me a really suggestive smile as she did so.

She wasn’t joking about living round the corner and I had to laugh when we went three doors down from the shop and she put a key in the door and led me up a flight of stairs to her flat. No sooner had we got in the door and entered the hallway I saw her bedroom door and stepping up behind her, pulled her onto me and kissed her neck. She turned her head to face me and our mouths locked passionately. Grabbing the bottom of her short sleeve top I pulled it up as she lifted her arms allowing me to take it off and throw it across the room. Then in one movement I pulled down her leggings and she audibly squealed as I did so. ‘Kick off your shoes’. Bending down she thrust her bottom against me as she reached down, unclasped her shoes, kicked them off and then lifted her feet from her leggings as I pulled her back into me. ‘Stand still!’ ‘What?’ I told her again. ‘Stand still I want to look at you’. She stood and looking over her shoulder she had the most seductive look on her face as I stood back admiring her perfectly round bottom with the back of her G-String just visible before disappearing between her cheeks. Slowly I walked around her. Her matching bra hardly contained her massive breasts. She looked supremely confident in her body, pure excitement and adrenaline in her eyes. We were literally on the precipice, both of us aware of the intensity, the kind of tension you feel you can cut with a knife. I stood in front of her devouring every single inch of her body. Nothing was said. I could see her cheeks flush. She bit her lip and I watched her breathing deepen. We stared into each other’s eyes and then reaching up, she unclasped her bra and discarded it onto the floor before bending down and removing her knickers.

Now naked, I walked around her admiring her nakedness. I was still suited and booted which made the contrast between her nakedness and me being fully dressed even more erotic. All the while she stood absolutely still. She made no effort to move other than to turn her head to follow me as I walked around her, looking, devouring every inch of her body. Then I told her to stand in front of her bed, placed one hand on her stomach, the other on her back and bent her forward. Bent over at the hips, she placed her hands on the bed to steady herself. She stayed motionless, while once again I admired her nakedness. In this position, her massive breasts hung heavily. Bent over, her bottom looked so round and her hips so wide I wanted to kneel behind her, part her cheeks and lick every single inch of her flesh. However, I held off and contained my excitement. Finally, after long seconds just looking at her beautiful round bottom, I stepped forward and stroked her cheeks. I heard her draw breath as I continued to caress and stroke her cheeks and slowly running my hands between her cheeks. She loved it, rocking her bottom from side to side and looking over her shoulder, clearly enjoying every minute.

I couldn’t resist it. Drawing back my hand I gave her bottom a light slap. ‘Mmm’. ‘You like that?’ I asked. She bit her lip and waved her bottom from side to side encouraging me. Another light slap and once again she murmured her appreciation. I stroked and caressed her and then another slap, only this time slightly harder. She kept motioning her bottom from side to side as I slapped the other cheek before caressing the point of impact. For several minutes I continued, first one cheeks, then the other before caressing and stroking her bottom. Every couple of slaps I increased the intensity until I felt a definite sting on impact and heard her groan in pleasure. More caresses, more slaps, always stroking her in between the slaps became increasingly hard until slight red patches appeared and her groans became even more incessant. Denise was clearly loving this I found my own response surprising as my cock was now rock hard and throbbing making my strokes even more intense. As I watched the redness increase I not only caressed her bottom but stroked her gently between her legs running my fingers slowly along her pussy. She gasped and I was really surprised as how wet and inflamed her pussy felt. I heard her moan quietly as I continued to gently probe her pussy and using my other hand, I continued to give her bottom another hard slap. Obediently she remained bent over making no effort to move as I delved a finger into her now very wet pussy and continued to slap her bottom. For some minutes I continued my onslaught, never slapping her hard enough to make her yelp or signify pain but clearly enough that she was now breathing heavily, her pussy pulsing against my fingers. Simultaneously, I slapped her cheeks and thrust my fingers deep inside her as I felt her pussy contract and moaning loudly, her orgasm took her. Her legs seem to buckle as I continued to stroke her, caressing her bottom until finally I stood, took her arms and lay her fact down on the bed.

Then kneeling on the floor, I parted her thighs and continued my assault on her, pulling her cheeks apart I repeatedly licked and sucked her anus and pussy until she was thrusting her bottom into my face and moaning loudly. I turned her over and reaching up she tried to remove my jacket but I resisted and told her to lay back. Reluctantly she let go and pulling her legs apart I once again knelt between her thighs and reaching up, massaged her breasts as I took her clit in my mouth and brought her off again, this time fingering her anus as well sending her literally thrashed around the bed, begging me to stop. Reluctantly I stopped sucking her and softly licked and caressed her pussy lips as we calmed down and standing up I sat on the bed next to her and stroked her gently. In all the time that I had been licking and sucking her I had made no effort to undress or indeed touch my cock even though the front of my boxers bore testament to my excitement. Once again, I experienced a tremendous feeling of power at not letting her touch me or fucking her. She seemed confused at my reaction but I told her I had to go back to work. She asked for my number and I left, never really thinking I would see her again.

Three weeks later she called and invited me round for coffee. Within minutes we took off where we had left off and she was soon naked as I stroked, caressed and kissed every inch of her body. However, this time was different as she made several repeated attempts to take off my clothes. I resisted and for a minute we wrestled each other as I held her wrists and refused to take off my clothes. She struggled repeatedly to tear off my tie and jacket until I was left looking dishevelled and the more we struggled the more immense my cock pulsed and throbbed for release until I threw her on the bed and pinned her down. Within seconds I slid my fingers into her as she surrendered her fight, lay back and allowed me to do anything and everything I wanted.

Several weeks passed but I hadn’t heard from her so I called her and asked if she wanted to meet. ‘Only on my terms’ she said. ‘Really! And what terms are those?’ I replied indignant. ‘If you want to come back to mine it has to be different’. I laughed dismissively. ‘Ok, don’t bother’ and the phone went dead. I expected her to call me back but she didn’t. After ten minutes I relented and called her back. ‘What?’ she said sharply. ‘I wondered where you had gone’ I said implying that the phone must have got cut off. ‘I hadn’t gone anywhere. I cut you off’. ‘What!’ I couldn’t believe it. ‘why?’ I asked. ‘If you want to see me it has to be on my terms’. I was taken back by her confidence. I tried to laugh it off but she was so dismissive of efforts that I started to believe she was serious. ‘So?’ she said abruptly. I was completely caught off guard. I was so confident that she would just agree to see me that I felt a little insecure and my confidence crumbled at her tone. ‘Ok’ I said quietly. ‘Ok, you are going to take me shopping and what ever I buy, you are going to have to wear it’. Without really thinking about it I agreed readily and to be honest I was intrigued. Fifteen minutes later I pulled up outside her flat and drew breath as she walked to my car. She was wearing a white blouse with a black waistcoat. I wouldn’t have thought it possible but they accentuated her breasts even more than normal which just didn’t seem possible. She wore a short black shirt, what appeared to be stockings, high heals and I couldn’t help notice the stares of several men’s she told me to park in town and telling me to wait as she walked off through the high street. Ten minutes later she appeared carrying a black carrier bag and gave me a very suggestive smile as she told me to drive to hers. I asked her what she had brought but all she would say was that I would find out very soon.

Arriving at her flat she told me to wait inn the lounge as she went to her bedroom and shut the door. Intrigued, I could feel my cock pulse and imagined her calling me to her room and finding her naked. After a couple of minutes I heard her call and opening the door I was confronted by the sight of her still wearing her high heals, her legs clad in stocking and the Basque pulled tight under her breasts, both her blouse and her knickers had gone. I was instantly excited but as I stepped towards her she told me to strip. I hesitated but my previous confidence had gone and feeling unusually unsure I did as instructed as she sat on a rectangular stool in front of her dressing table and lit a cigarette. I stripped and once naked she beckoned to me to step forward and stand in front of her. ‘Kneel and don’t speak!’. Not for many years had I been told what to do and feeling my erection standing hard and proud I felt completely in awe of her and did as instructed. She continued to smoke, it was as if she was oblivious to my presence and my excitement mounted. Finally, she leant down, stroked my cock and remarked that she could tell I liked being on my knees. ‘Don’t you!’ she barked and I nodded obediently. The excitement that I felt at that moment was indescribable. I was in total awe of her dominance and felt that at that moment I would have done absolutely anything she asked or commanded.

She finished her cigarette, she stood up and told me to lean over the stool. For a second I thought I had misheard her but as she repeated the instruction I knelt as if on my hands and knees resting my chest on the stool. She picked up the bag and took out several cords and proceeded to tie my wrists to the front legs of the stool. I didn’t make any effort to resist, in fact, as she tied the cord around my wrists and secured me to the legs of the stool, I felt an over whelming excitement flood through me. Once both hands were tied the feeling of being bent over, vulnerable and at her mercy made my cock throb and precum oozed from my cock and dripped onto the carpet. She then stood in front of me. Her huge breasts hung before me as she parted her legs and started to slowly stoke her pussy. I was already desperate and she knew it, my frustration increased when she bent her knees and squatted until her pussy was just inches from my upturned head. Desperate I tried to lick her pussy as she pulled open her lips and tantalised me with than. I could see how wet she was and I heard myself beg her to let me lick her as she continued to torment me. ‘Please’ I cried until finally she lowered herself allowing me to finally reach her, licking along her pussy lips, tasting her sweetness before she finally pressed herself forward onto my mouth and for a fleeting second I was able to cover her pussy with my mouth and suck her clit.

However, within seconds she stood up abruptly, walked around behind me and started to stroke my cock, pulling it back between my legs and rubbing the precum over my cock head. Already my cock felt very sensitive but she took no head and continued to wank me harder, only stopping intermittently to stop me ejaculating fully.

Then I felt something cold and wet drip between my cheeks and realised with some concern she was lubricating my anus with lube and then spread it over my balls and cock continually massage both until I was literally moaning in pleasure. Suddenly, she stopped and as I turned around to try to see her I heard her open the bag again and remembered her threat that I would have to wear what she had bought me. I caught site of something black and shiny in her hands and became fearful of her intentions as I felt her once again felt her massage my anus. I wasn’t comfortable with her touching my anus but unable to move I felt the pressure increase and then she slid a finger into my anus. I felt startled, wanted her to stop but then as she delicately started tov finger my anus I felt the most intense pleasure that seemed to radiate through my anus and along the length of my cock and surrendered totally. I relaxed and then tasking my cock she began to stroke my cock and slide first one finger and then a seconds into my anus as I pushed back against her as waves of pleasure flooded through me. By now I was almost whimpering with pleasure and within a minute or tow she had to stop to stop me losing control. ‘Please’ I begged but she took no heed and reminded me of what I had done to her. Then I felt something press against my anus only this time I could tell from the size it wasn’t her finger. I tried to see but couldn’t turn round enough to see clearly. ‘I told you I was going to but something for you’. Suddenly what seemed like pleasure turned to a sharp intense pain that had me squirming and gritting my teeth as I asked her what the hell she was doing. She immediately told me to be quiet and In tried to relax as whatever she had was slowly but firmly pushed into my anus. ‘Just relax’ she purred and as suddenly as the pain had started it disappeared to be replaced by the most intense feeling I think I had ever experienced as she pushed inch by inch what I could only surmise was a dildo deep inside me. By now I was groaning and moaning and holding it deep inside me she stayed still until finally relaxed, she started to thrust it slowly in and out of my anus. It was unbelievable and by now I was desperate. ‘Im going to cum’! As soon as the words left my mouth she immediately stopped and withdrew the dildo making me groan and curse in frustration. ‘What the…’ ‘Whatever you do, under no circumstances are you allowed to cum unless I tell you. If you do, you will be punished’! My mind was racing. ‘Punished’? I wondered what she meant but as soon as I began to ask her she told me that I could only speak if spoken to.

With me now silent, she once again took the dildo, slowly slid it into my now very receptive anus and started to slowly slide it in and out making me once again grown in pleasure. Once again the pleasure was unbelievable, I had never experienced such intense feeling in my cock and once again, copious amounts of precum seeped onto the carpet. By now I was gripping the leg of the stool, my breathing was so heavy I was sweating and groaning loudly. ‘I want to cum’ I groaned by she ignored me and rammed the dildo hard into my anus. ‘Please’! Another hard push and just as I had made my mind up to cum anyway she abruptly stopped and withdrew it in one swift move leaving me cursing and begging.

‘What did you just say’? she asked sternly. I hesitated. ‘Err nothing’! ‘It didn’t sound like nothing to me’! she purred. Then I saw her walk over to the bag and what she produced made me gasp and recoil. In her hand was a black crop. About two foot long, it had a leather strip on the end as just as I tried to imagine what it might feel like to be hit with it, she slashed me hard across the buttocks making me yell out. ‘Shut up Bitch’ and cropped me again. I had never been a lover of pain and certainly would never of expected to be tied to a stool and cropped. The pain was just enough to make me cry out and strain against the cords but what was really strange was that every time she cropped me, my cock pulsed and strained making me groan with pleasure. Several times more she cropped me, first one cheek and then the other and then I really cried out as she flicked the crop onto my balls making me groan in pleasure. ‘you liked that didn’t you’? she purred. I didn’t answer, I didn’t have to. Instinctively she knew and several more flicks on my balls told her everything she needed to know. For some minutes she cropped my balls, in between each lash of the crop she massaged my balls until once again my cock seeped precum onto the carpet and I was begging to cum.

Now that I was once again begging to cum she picked up the dildo, opened the bag and took out a leather looking harness. She inserted the dildo through a hole in the triangular shaped base then secured the harness around her waist. I had never seen a strapon in the flesh so to speak let alone be tied on my knees and clearly the intended recipient but as I knelt looking up at her any apprehension on my part was far outweighed by the excitement I was now experiencing. I actually felt like begging her to fuck me. She then knelt behind me, once again lubbed me up and then, painfully at first, she slid the dildo into my anus right up to the hilt. I nearly screamed, the force of her next thrust taking me completely by surprise. This wasn’t gentle. Her thrusts into me were hard and fast, held in for a second and then quickly pulled back. Another pause and then another hard thrust. I was begging! ‘More, stop, please, more’! Literally crying out in the most intense pleasurable pain. Then it just got more intense and the pleasure level soon had me begging to cum. Every time I did she would stop, withdraw and then once quiet, commence again. Finally after I dint know how long, she reached around and grabbed my cock. She didn’t do anything more than that but as I gasped in anticipation she slid as deep into me as she could and held it there. I was literally teetering on the edge. Her fingers slid around my cock head and I knew then it was time. She very slowly withdrew the dildo until I thought she was going to fully withdraw, her fingers slid deliciously along my cock and then she slid the dildo very slowly deep into my anus and at the point until I felt her press into my back and said ‘cum’! Immediately I shot a long stream of cum several feet across the carpet, then another, and again, my cry came through gritted teeth as the most intense orgasm I had ever had left me almost whimpering, the sensation was so great.

She withdrew and after some minutes she untied me. Exhausted I stayed slumped over the stool, catching my breath as she removed the harness. However, she wasn’t finished. ‘Come on Bitch’ and cropped me again. I recoiled but she was fast. Violently she grabbed my hair, pulled back my head and tipped me back onto my haunches. At the same time, she straddled the bench, leant back and forcefully pulled me into her pussy. ‘Lick it Bitch’ and I didn’t need asking twice as I feverishly licked and sucked her clit and licked her pussy. It was literally like she was riding the stool and my face was the saddle. She forced my face into her pussy so hard I was struggling for breath. The slight pause on my behalf resulted in the crop across my arse and her renewed force on the back of my head Suddenly energised, I reached up, sucked her clit hard and thrust two fingers into her pussy and started to finger her deep, hard and fast. She started to cry out calling me Bitch, telling me she wanted more. I obliged, licking, sucking, fingering her with renewed vigour as she rode my face. Then with a scream she orgasmed hard and held me suffocating against her pussy. Several more deep thrusts into her soaking pussy had her squirming, her pussy juice liberally coating my mouth and chin until finally her orgasm subsided and she pushed me away.

This was new territory for me. As an adult I had never been dominated and sexually used in such a manner and in some respects, I felt humiliated, embarrassed, surprised even at my submission. Yet, I had never felt so totally spent sexually and the feeling of surrender and submission made the experience exciting beyond words. She told me to get up coldly. Told me to get dressed as she had things to do. I couldn’t believe how cold and detached she was as she sat back, lit a cigarette and waited for me to leave. She walked me to the door and kissed me on the cheek. ‘Now you are my Bitch’ she said with a mischievous smile before gesturing me out and closing the door behind her.

[barbarasbarbara]

I might have had problem with myself being a woman, or having a woman's feature for a very long time, but Good Omens and the fandom helps me with it. A whole lot.

TW: personal ranting. vulgar swearing. genitals. probably gender dysphoria. misogyny. sex/masturbation talk. mention of porn arts and male-presented with woman genital

Well first off I live in a kinda... suburban place, that, while people aren't hostile or very homophobic, but there are typical gender stereotypes you see everywhere. Because I'm a little girl, I have to have my ears piecing, so I can have pretty little earrings that I never thought of before. Because I'm a little girl, I have to wear my hair long even though I want to try the short hair, but I can't, because it's for boys. Because I am a girl, I have to doll up myself (I didn't, and probably get bullied a bit for that) and I have to wear a skin tight SCHOOL uniform that emphasize the curve of the round chest and round hip (what the fuck is wrong with our education) that cost 4 times the price of the boy uniform, and I get comments from the tailor because I'm too "skinny and can't have a good shape in this" while I'm supposed to be at school and learning. That's my 18 years of life before I moved to uni in the city, 18 years learning from the society around me that people only have two binary gender and they should stick to whatever their genital decides their gender to be. I engaged more on internet around middle school and learn about things outside of that hetero view, but it's difficult to see it outside reality.

Right now I'm not even sure of what I am. I can have short hair, I barely wear clothes that I'm uncomfortable with, with jeans and big T-shirt that can hide my flat chest and I feel happy when someone mistook me for a boy. I still enjoy wearing long skirt when I'm in the mood and have pretty feminine outfits that fit my taste and people call me pretty girl. I stand before the mirror in bathroom and hide my breasts and pretend like I look like a boy and hope one day I can fit into those boyish dark academia wardrobe without looking like I'm trying too much and failed. I also would like to have the most gorgeous girly dress ever and just flaunt everyone off with a very brightly long, red hair, or sometimes (most of the times) be a cringe, depressed emo girl with dead black outfits and blood red jewelries.

And I can't look at my vagina. Or anyone else really. They look horrifying and I can't make out what the fuck are they. Sometimes I wish I don't have it. Maybe have a penis. Maybe none at all. Maybe it doesn't matter, but society makes it matter. Boys looking at the other girl's big chest and giggling and making noises. Older men tried to touch the down part before I know what it meant. Have menstruation each month, no day less yucky than the other. The pain from it once I got older. The potential of having a child. The expectation of having a child. The info how painful sex and childbirth would be and how men have the power to decide what we can do with our bodies. The soft features in our bones they said we will never pull off a manly outfit. What do you want, are you trans? Even if I am, would you even care, would you not giving me that pity look like I'm in a phase?

So at this point I don't think I'm trans but genderfluid (I know those two don't exclude each other but that's just how I feel), but maybe I'm just thinking things idk, there is no one near me here that I feel safe to talk to or to feel like I'm not alone and I'm not just "following the trend".

And there is still the matter of sexuality that I would never talk about outside of anonymous online spaces and how I do like the idea of the pleasure of it but never got the courage to actually do it because again I don't know how a vagina works and there is something in me that stop me from looking up on wikihow or safe porn website on how to it, probably because of the childhood church. Curse them and their idea that God is always watching you. It's just a weak excuse, I just don't have the courage to do it while still living with family and many sisters and brothers and mother. And maybe because I fear of accepting what I really am: down to it, just a weak tool for the patriarchy.

But then just 3 months ago I engaged myself more deeply in Good Omens fandom and found out how people depicted the characters here more deeply. Like, really deep. (it's a sex joke)

I found out the author himself emphasizes that angel and demon have no gender. That a young angel default setting can be they/them. That a demon rejects a remark that he's a lad, because he's not a male. That the demon had presented as female more than once outside of work reasons. That they can change to whatever shape they want to be and have no desire to pretending to be human All The Way Down unless they want to.

Alright, it is Crowley. It is the thin dark duke and the slender black hensley black suit and the small hips that you can grab fully and the fucking snake-theme obsession when he's not technically a snake.

There's a lot of reasons I got drawn to him, one of it is probably because he's what I wish I can achieve. The hair, the outfit, the cocky attitude while still soft at heart and probably a little pathetic and a too fast love. How he had totally nailed being a woman as well. Then I came to the fandom and I found out about cunt boy. Oh gosh. I loved it more than I thought I should.

It would have baffled me before, I think. I'm not really good with new and change and something outside of my usual fandom experience would usually cause some icks for me until I can settle down my feelings, but this, when I look at Crowley (and Aziraphale) with a male body and a vulva below and it looks so, there. There is nothing strange about it and the shape of it still terrify me a bit but it looks so in place like it should be. And the pleasure arts and fanfics come from the ideas. I read and enjoy works about woman pleasure for the first time as Crowley and Aziraphale. Maybe it got easier since it's about my two most favourite characters, and one of them is literally my vision of my own future me.

A few hours ago I tried to press a bit down below outside the pants while reading a detailed fic about non-binary/he him human Crowley's vulva got railed by Aziraphale's mouth and I felt wet and oh gosh I was masturbating. On my own volution. Twenty years down the line of human life and I'm giggling because I do something normal and comfortable about my current body for once. It wasn't even a proper masturbation. But I feel happy. Maybe I can do this, living in this confusion about my own identity until I figure it out, and be happy.

Well, less confused now, thanks Crowley. It really is good, knowing I'm not alone. It would still be a very long ride until I get to the point I want to be, and I have time, and for the duration, time feel less lonely now.

[neochan]

GENRE | smut, idolverse!

WARNINGS | smut

WC | 2.6k +

A.N | this is a repost of my older work. i hope you enjoy it <3

You could still hear the unintelligible screaming of thousands of fans as the boys filtered off the stage and into the greenroom. Another successful concert in the long string of tour stops. You couldn’t even remember what state you were in because the days of traveling, unpacking, setting up, and doing it all again the next day ran together.

The boys were dripping sweat, immediately grabbing bottles of water and towels to wipe themselves off. They had worked harder than normal today since during one of the sets the microphone cut out and they had to perform acapella. Someone was getting fired for that.

Taeyong flopped onto the leather couch dominating the center of the room, water in one hand, phone in the other. “People are already uploading photos.” He outstretches his arm so the others could view the pictures pulled up on his screen.

“Johnny you look ridiculous,” you point out, laughing as a fan had caught Johnny in the act of wildly waving his light stick.

“I was having a good time, okay?” He chuckles and walks into the dressing rooms to change out of his stage outfit. Half of the group filtered out to change and half stayed to peruse through the gifts left by venue staff and play on their phones until told otherwise.

You were wondering where Hyuck was when you heard his voice from the hallway. He saunters in and gives you a kiss on the cheek, “Enjoy the show?” His golden skin was tainted pink, hair matted to his forehead by the sweat that was trickling down the side of his face. He grabbed his shirt and lifted it to swipe at his face, revealing his cute tummy. You had to resist the urge to poke it.

“I enjoyed hearing thousands of pretty fans scream your name” You give him a smirk knowing that he hates when you downplay your relationship.

He nudges you with his shoulder, “You know I meant the songs,” his doe eyes look into yours, his long lashes brushing against his cheek when he blinked “Besides, you know I love you and only you.”

Mark began to nervously giggle in the corner while Doyoung made fake gagging noises from the vanity he sat at. “Oh, shut up.” You say, throwing empty water bottles at the two, “And hurry up I wanna go swimming before it gets too late.”

The ride home was peaceful once the swarms of fans cleared a path for the bus. Per the managers request you slouched down in your seat so know one could see you through the window. It didn’t make much sense because the windows were tinted, but Haechan had to argue for his life to allow them to let you tag along on the tour, so you didn’t question them. Once you were on the road, you sat back up and snuggled close to Haechans side. He rested his hand on your thigh, absentmindedly stroking you with his thumb. His head leaned back against the seat, eyes closed, listening to music. It was so loud you could almost make out the words but you didn’t say anything – you let him stay in his post concert utopia for the whole trip.

The hotel was about an hour away from the venue so that no one would find them, and they’d be closer to their next destination. It was nicer than the others because it actually had a pool. You and Haechan made an agreement to go swimming after the concert, and you couldn’t wait. The staff also rented more rooms, so instead of four people to a bed, it was just you and Haechan.

After checking in everyone filtered off to their rooms leaving the both of you to freely do whatever you wanted - within reason of course. You both got changed, your gaze admiring the hard lines of Haechans back. “Don’t stare.” He blushed, wrapping a towel around his upper body.

You pulled on your bikini which made Haechan go silent. You specifically picked this one because it brought out your skin tone well, and cupped your features beautifully. “Now who’s staring?”

It never failed. The butterfly feeling you got in the pit of your stomach when Haechan watched you with loving eyes. You wrapped a towel around your waist, allowing Haechans eyes to roam the tops of your breasts, peeking out from the almost too small bathing suit.

His cheeks turned pink once he noticed he was caught, “Let’s go”.

The hallways were quiet since it was almost midnight, so you wordlessly made your way down the stairs and out into the night air. It had grown considerably cooler than when guys first arrived that morning, but the sky made up for it. Pretty stars pricked the vast expanse of dark blue and black infinity. You could see the moon peaking out from behind a single cloud, casting a shadowed glow on Haechans honey skin.

The gate was closed when you walked up to it so you stopped to read, “Aw man, the pool closed an hour ago,” You set your lips in a pout, “no wonder the lights weren’t on.”

“Hey it’s okay, no lights, no cameras, they probably wont even notice we’re here if we keep quiet.” He moves closer to you, eyebrows raised expectant for an answer.

You hesitated wondering if you really could pull it off, after all you’d been looking forward to this for the whole day, “I don’t wanna get in trouble..”

“You said you wanted to swim and I’m going to make sure that happens,” He gets down on one knee, “step on my leg, I'm gonna help you jump the fence.”

He boots you over, and grabs your arms to help lower you on the other side, but his hand slips and his nails dig into your shoulder. “Ow, fuck.” You wince rubbing the spot he scratched.

“Sorry, sorry” He says giggling, jumping the fence with such quietness and ease that it looked unreal. “Come on, dare you to do a canon ball!?”

He ran ahead throwing his towel on one of the pool chairs and jumping in the water. You cringe away from the loud slap his body hitting the water made. You walk slowly to the chair, deeply inhaling the addictive chlorine scent.

He finally stands up waist deep in the water and pushes his hair back. The blue water reflected against him, making his skin sparkle. “Come into the water y/n” he splashed some water into your general direction, but not enough to touch you.

“Okay, Okay.” You drop the towel and slip into the water. It was cold. Really cold. You gasp and recoil away, but not fast enough, because Haechan has wrapped his arms around you and started carrying you towards the deep end. You struggle a bit in his grip but his arms provide an iron cage that you can’t get out of. “Haechan let me go!”

He presses a warm kiss to the back on your neck but doesn’t comply with your wishes, instead making a curve and bringing you towards the underwater benches. He fixes his hold on you so that now he’s carrying you bridal style. You stare up at him, water droplets falling off his chin. His eyes were already red from the chlorine and you hoped that it cleared up by tomorrow nights concert. His plush lips sat in a pout, strong jaw set. He was so very pretty; and all yours. You smiled to yourself, deciding to keep that image locked away in your memory forever.

Once he gets to the benches he sets you down and glides in beside you. “You know It’s colder than I thought it was going to be.” He lifts a hand and sheepishly rubs the back of heck, “and you look way hotter in that bikini than I thought you would.”

“I don’t know if that’s supposed to be a dig or a compliment.” You scoot closer to him so that your thighs were pressed against each other. Finding his hand underwater, you intertwine your fingers with his own.

“A compliment babe.” He chuckles and slouches in the water so that only his head sat above it. You both sit there for a moment until it becomes too cold to sit still.

“Well I’m going to put it to use and go swim.” You push off from the cement and paddle around. The only way to stay slightly warm was to keep moving. Haechan watched you, eyes crinkled in a smile, bottom lip caught between his teeth. It was fun to watch you play in the water but the bathing suit was making him think of other things you two could be doing.

And that was how it stayed. Haechan watching while you performed for him.

A while had passed, the calm exterior of the pool getting to you, making you drowsy. The cold blue water washed over your hands while you gently skimmed the surface, making your way over to where Haechan was. You hummed a short tune under your breath, trying to keep yourself distracted. it was close to one in the morning now, but Haechan still sat on the bench, slightly shivering from the brisk air, hands gripping his thighs under the water while his mind wandered far away from the present.

“Watcha thinkin’ about” you ask, moving closer to him, hoping to catch some lingering body warmth.

“Fucking you ,” he moved off the seat and dove under the surface, only leaving small ripples in his wake. You stand there for a second wonder how he could be so blunt, so forward in his desires; he was never like this.

He swam a single circle around your body before popping up in front of you, giving you a mini heart attack. He pushes you back against the tiled walls, “I’ve spent the last hour thinking about fucking you. Thinking about how pretty you’d sound.” His head dips down to kiss along your collarbone, and your hands grab the back of neck, holding him there while his tongue sucked bruises into your tender skin. His hands grazed the bare skin of your arms, giving you goosebumps.

He moaned into the side of your neck, biting and sucking away, wanting you to yearn for him like he did for you. He lifted his head so that his mouth hung over yours, his small puffs of breath fanning over your face while he tests the waters. “Can I kiss you?”

Without giving him an answer you pull him closer by the roots of his hair. His kissing was messy and sweet, and while your tongues moved together, his hips began rubbing circles against you, trying to gain some friction in the cool water. Small heavy breaths were the only sound you could hear, aside from the occasional splash as Haechan moved restlessly.

Your hand wandered down his chest and below the surface to where you could feel him straining against his shorts. You began to stroke him over the fabric, his hips pushing against your touch. He broke the kiss to watch as you peeled down the elastic from his hips, his cock freed from the restricting material of his swim shorts. You watched him twitch slightly as the cold water met his length.

“You can’t make any noise.” You place a single finger against his lips.

“No promises.” He whispers, a devilish smirk breaking way on his face. His hands caress you thighs, pushing your bottoms to the side. The cold water hit you, making you gasp and push into Haechan who just whimpers against your touch.

He tried to stay quiet, only soft grunts between gritted teeth and muffled moans as his hips pushed into your own. The water created resistance but it just enhanced how good he was feeling. He hurriedly grabs at your legs, pulling them up so that they sat around his waist. Your back dragged up the tiled walls, scraping your tender skin, but you could only focus on Haechans cock thrusting deeply in and out of you. He stared longingly into your eyes, filling you up completely, wanting to savor the way they fluttered in the back of your head.

“You love the way I fill you up huh?” He groans into your ear, a hand falling forward to grip the cement ledge of the pool.

You couldn’t respond without fear of moaning so you nod your head wildly. He began to bite and suck at your collarbone, pushing you closer to the edge. Looking down he sees your nipples, erect, poking through the wet fabric of your bathing suit. His eyes grow wide, hips stuttering into you. Fuck you were hot.

“Haechannie, I think I’m going to come.” You squeezed your eyes shut trying to focus on the feeling coiling in your stomach.

“Not yet.” He growls, hands moving to pin your wrists against the cement ledge, “Hold it princess, I know you can.” The water began to slosh around faster as Haechan thrusted harder into you. The sound was so loud its no wonder you didn’t hear the keys jangling against the hip of the guard making his way towards you two.

“Hey!,” he shouts running towards you, “The pool is closed! Get out! Are you two-” He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as you and Haechan spring up out of fear and take off. It was easy to push yourself up onto the pool deck. The guard made the mistake of following you two and leaving the gate unattended. You and Haechan ran out, giggling, making your way back into the hotel. You didn’t stop until you got into the room and slammed the door behind you.

With your heart hammering in your chest you lean against the dark cherry wood . “Holy fuck we could’ve gotten in serious trouble.” You gasp out, clutching a hand against your wet bathing suit top.

“Babe we’ll be gone by morning, no one is gonna know.” Haechan paces in front of you trying to catch his breath. His shorts hung dangerously low on his hips, it was miracle he got them up in time.

“We’re so banned from this hotel.” A knock on the door makes you jump away from it, the worst of punishment's filling your mind. What were they going to do? They couldn’t arrest you, could they?

Haechan walks forward and turns the knob slowly, revealing a sleepy Doyoung. His oversized t-shirt hung off one shoulder showing off his gaunt collarbone. He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“What do you want Doie?” you ask softly.

“How was getting chased by the guard?” he gives a sleepy chuckle, still half in his dreams.

“How did you-,” A look of realization hits Haechan, “You reported us?” He whined, pushing Doyoungs bare shoulder so that he stumbled back.

“Sound travels over water dumbasses and you guys were loud, I was trying to sleep!” Protesting, he pushes Haechans wet shoulder back.

“Well, now we’re going to be twice as loud.” Haechan slams the door in Doyoungs face and grabs you, throwing you on the bed. You give a squeal, and hear Doyoungs fist hit the door.

“I swear I’ll make a noise complaint.” He sounded more irritated than sleepy now.

“Go ahead, you’re just mad I’m getting laid and you aren't.” You playfully slap Haechans arm, but he nips at your hand. The other side of the door grows silent, Doyoung either going to report you two, or going back to his room defeated.

“Shall we pick up where we left off princess?”

[sweeterthanthis]

mini drabble

person or character of your choice and the line " I'm gonna eat your pussy now"

Open Up For Me

Pairing: Mickey Henry x BodyConsciousF!Reader

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, reader has self esteem issues/is body conscious, pussy eating, mild spit play, fingering, 18+.

Word Count: Around 1k.

A/N: This is for YOU, bby. You are beautiful, and I love you 💗

I no longer have a taglist, so if you would like to be notified when I post something new, follow my side blog, @sweetersficlibrary, and turn on the alerts 🥰

You sit in front of the mirror, wrapped in a fluffy towel, your skin still speckled with water droplets from your shower. Arms wrapped protectively around your waist as you idly grab at the soft flesh of your belly.

Its hard not to criticise yourself - your body not what it once was. You shake your head and huff a laugh when you remember your teenage years. All the times you thought you were overweight, hated your body the way you did. Of course, you'd put on a few pounds since then. It was inevitable. Time passes and bodies change.

"What's cookin', good lookin'." You hear Mickey call, his footsteps nearing closer as he steps through the bedroom door. The smile on his face weakens a little when he locks his eyes with yours - bright, cerulean meeting sorrowful, and bloodshot. "Hey. Hey, what's wrong?"

He crouches down in front of you, holding your face in his palms, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. The concern in his stare makes your bottom lip quiver, your own hands finding his - fingers threading together as you bring them down to hold against your chest.

"I'm fine. Honestly, I am." You insist, forcing a smile and swallowing down the lump in your throat.

But he knows. He always knows. You've been here before, had this anxiety countless times over the course of your relationship. Mickey leans up on his knees, his nose brushing against yours as his hands settle on your waist; lips a breath away from your own.

"You're so beautiful, baby." He says, and you visibly cringe, shying away from his embrace and looking down into your lap. His finger catches your chin and tilts your head back up, an empathetic smile thinning his lips. "If you could see yourself the way I see you, well, I'd be fucked because I know damn well I'm punching above my weight here."

You can't help but bark a laugh, throwing your head back a little - his hand cupping the column of your throat. The feel of his skin on yours never fails to make your pulse quicken.

When you lock eyes again, the atmosphere shifts. There's a lust there that you should be used to by now, but it always knocks you for six. Always.

His fingers reach to unwrap the towel from around your chest, eyes fixed on yours as it pools around your waist - your breasts exposed to his wandering stare.

"This body, you, it's the most beautiful thing I've ever touched. Sweetest thing I've ever tasted." Mickey's hands run a gentle trail up your thighs, fingertips digging into your flesh as he parts them slowly. "I'm gonna eat your pussy now."

You move to protest, a flurry of self conscious thoughts flooding your mind, but he hushes you. "Lean back, baby. Lemme take care of my girl."

You do as he says, grabbing a pillow from further up the bed and wedging it beneath your head for comfort. Exhaling shakily, his five o clock shadow scratching against your inner thighs, you grip the sheets beneath you in anticipation.

"Look at this pretty cunt." He whispers, pressing a gentle kiss against your clit as you mewl softly. "Always so wet and warm for me."

The way his tongue snakes between your folds has your back arching, lips latching onto your sensitive nub as he nuzzles his face into your aching core.

"So perfect. My best girl." He coos, tongue flattening against your quivering hole and running the length of your slit - humming his satisfaction against you. "Wanna spend every minute between these legs, baby. Taste so fuckin' gorgeous."

His hands rest on your tummy, kneading ever so slightly at the soft flesh, moving to grip your hips and pull you down against his face. You buck your hips up, seeking more friction, more pleasure. Anything he can give.

"That's it," he mumbles, chaining kisses across your fleshy mound as he pushes your thighs wider, "open up for me. Want my mouth on you 'til you come."

Fervent flicks of his tongue against your clit have you shaking, his lips latching onto it, sucking it between his teeth and humming as it throbs in his hold.

You can feel it rising - the heat in your belly, the way your legs tremble and your toes curl. Your body preparing itself for the wave of bliss that he always delivers.

"Fuck, Mickey!" You cry, fingers gripping at his hair, tugging him tighter against you. He looks up at you, smirking against your lower lips, letting the saliva on his tongue fall down onto your cunt - the look in his eyes sending a shiver throughout your entire body.

He devours you - obscene, sloppy sounds echoing throughout the room and merging with your desperate pleas for release.

"Good girl. That's a good girl." He praises, the tip of his index finger prodding at your tight hole; slipping inside and instantly curling up against your gspot. Your cheeks grow warmer, chest heaving as he worships between your thighs. "You're close, baby. I can feel it. Feel this little cunt getting nice'n soft for me."

You're right there, right on the precipice of euphoria, and all it'll take to get you there is one little-

"Oh my god." You gasp, walls clenching around his digit as you let go - your vision whiting out as your eyes roll back. He laps up every last bit of your slick, hungry for it as his lips caress your cunt. "Mickey, fuck."

"It's my job to remind you how beautiful you are, pretty girl. I'll do it every single night if I have to. And I'm not done with you yet."

[yelenassecretlover]

Swimming lessons [nsfw]

anime: attack on titan

characters: yelena x reader

warnings: oral, fingering

words: 2k

a/n: Can you tell I’m obsessed with how tall yelena is and her hands?

Your feet touch the cool tiles of the locker room floor. You feel a slight chill from the wet and cold room. Goosebumps litter your skin. The one piece the school gave you didn’t fit, so now you’re in a two piece you brought as back up. It was a lot more revealing. However, it would be just you and the girls swim team captain, so it shouldn’t be that big of an issue.

‘What a stupid rule! I need a swimming credit to graduate, Ridiculous’ you roll your eyes as you grab your towel. Students normally take a class to learn how to swim, but you decided going to the local mall was a far more interesting way to spend your time. ‘I mean c’mon swimming, How hard could it be?’

Well, turns out very hard; when you failed your swim test last week, spectacularly. You practically sank to the bottom. The professor had to fish you out. Super embarrassing. But he is a kind man and offered you a deal. If you learned to swim by the final exam in two weeks he’d pass you with a B for the semester. He even referred you to Yelena, the girls swim team captain.

So now you find yourself here, in your university’s indoor pool waiting for Yelena. You're sitting on a bench counting the seconds. She's about ten minutes late before you finally see her rush through the doors.

“I am so sorry I ended up taking longer than anticipated on my exam. Please excuse me” she says wide eyed, searching your face for any reactions. You don't immediately say anything, how could you? She was beautiful. You are caught off guard, resulting in your delayed reaction.

“N-No problem, really don't stress it….” You trail off. Her rigid body loosens and you see her shoulders relax.

“Okay, awesome, let's get you in the water” she giggles. She actually giggles. And you can't help but feel a certain warmth creep on you.

“How tall are you?” You blurt out and almost physically cringe at your candor. ‘God how rude ughh’ you avoid making eye contact with her and chew your lip.

“Oh no worries doll, I’m 6’7” she chuckles at the way your eyes widen and your face heats up.

“Before we begin, um your attire?…..”

You look at her confused and you realize she has the standard one piece uniform. On her though, it looks absolutely gorgeous. You can see every imprint of her body, and captain of the swim team she was. Her body was evidence enough of this. The swimsuit hugged her breast’s, hips and accentuated her abs and thighs. Not skinny by any means she was pure. raw. muscle.

“(Y/n) ?” Yelena interrupts your thoughts.

“Oh shit sorry, um, the school uniform issued to me was too small so I’m wearing this back up bikini. I hope that's alright?” You respond extremely flustered. You pray she didn’t notice the way your eyes undressed her— she definitely did.

The two piece you were wearing was incredibly skimpy but you didn’t have any other options. The bikini showed off your ass in just the right way and barely held your breasts together. One wrong move and you’d expose yourself. As bad as it was, the thought of showing Yelena your tits excited more than embarrassed you.

Yelena was only worried about your attire, as swimming was best done when comfortable. She didn’t have any objections to seeing you in such a revealing outfit. She could barely keep her eyes off the way your tits bounced when you entered the water. She shakes her head in an attempt to refocus. Afterall it was her responsibility to help you. She should not be thirsting after her student.

The water is cold when you're in it. You cling to the wall as your 5’5 in the 6ft deep end of the pool. You look over to Yelena and notice how much of a giant she really is, she towers over the water.

Yelena is calm and stoic now. She silently watches as you struggle to stick to the wall and you dart your eyes away. ‘God this is gonna be rough’

…………

Yelena begins by showing you how to float. She has you lay on your back in the open water; eyes to the ceiling. This is stressing you out, so much so, that you don't notice the way Yelenas devours your body with her eyes. Staying focused on the task at hand is proving to be a real challenge for her.

One of her hands reaches under your back when you start faltering in the float.

“Relax kitten, relax. If you start to scare yourself you’ll drown” Yelena coos. You can only manage to let out a hum as you try and calm yourself down. Yelena's hands are big. One hand is enough to hold your entire back while the other finds its place right under your ass. This adds to your stress.

“Alright looking good……” Yelena murmurs. The hand that was on the verge of touching your ass now finds itself on top of your thigh. Slowly and gently touching it before moving to your stomach. Your breathing quickes, you cant react or it’ll fuck up the entire excerice you can only stay still as Yelena feels you up.

Yelena's hand starts caressing your stomach, her other hand still on your back. “Good girl, your doing such a great job for me”

You blush at her comments and shut your eyes as you so desperately try to concentrate on floating. You feel her hand creep closer and closer to your breasts before stopping right in the middle of your chest. She starts palming the area, you take a deep gulp, unsure of what she plans to do.

“Bunny your breathing needs to slow down, you need to relax” You glare at her before closing your eyes once more, and she chuckles. It’s completely her fault your breathing is all out of whack and she knows it. Teasing you is entirely too much fun. She shifts you up right in the water, to indicate you're done. You let out a sigh of relief as you cling to her. This might be a whole lot harder than you anticipated.

…………

“Okay that's enough for today, great job” You hear Yelena call out behind you. You sigh in relief and return to the pool's wall. You’re panting heavily. The session was brutal. You can't even count the amount of different exercises Yelena had you try. But, you did feel better about your swimming abilities overall after this whole ordeal.

You try to climb out of the pool when you hear water swish behind you. As you pull yourself up you feel two big hands pull you back into the water and you squeal.

“I’m s-sorry, I thought the lesson was over” you stammer. You look over your right shoulder and are confronted by a completely different set of eyes. When the lesson first began Yelena's eyes held a false warmth. Now they were unapologetically full of lust and want. You could feel the way she was fucking you with her stare. You look away in attempts to escape her gaze, but you could still feel her eyes burning holes into your back.

“Well……..we aren’t completely done for the day” Yelena presses herself against your back. You feel her breasts rubbing against you looking for any sort of friction. Your own nipples harden. This isn’t lost on Yelena as she observes your chest from her angle, before moving closer to your ear.

“There’s still some other stuff I’d like to teach you” she growls in a low, hungry tone. She nibbles on your ear. Then leaves a trail of small hungry kisses on your neck. You let out a soft whine and buck your ass into her.

“I’ll do whatever you recommend……captain” you moan. Yelena takes this as a green light. Immediately her hands are roaming your body. Her left hand snakes to your chest, under your bikini and starts rubbing your nipple. The other finds purchase in your inner thigh, squeezing the fat.

Yelena's mouth moves from your nape to your lips. Her lips are smooth and move at a fast pace. Her mouth is rough against yours, and with the way she’s touching your nipples you almost start seeing stars. You moan into the kiss and she pulls away.

“Huh-“ She turns your whole body, so now your chest to chest and crashes right back into your mouth. You can barely breath as she grabs your ass to press you closer against her. Her wet tongue enters your mouth and your eyes are fully closed as you try to just feel her everywhere.

She stops kissing you to attack your neck once more. As she does that you feel her untie your bikini and discard it in the water. She kisses down your nape, your collarbone and starts sucking your breasts. Her tongue feels hot and wet against your nipples. You grab her head to balance yourself in the water.

“Y-yelena” you can't help but moan her name. At the sound of her name, Yelena internally curses. She wanted to take her time with you, but with the way your squirming against her all her patience is gone.

Yelena then proceeds to remove your bikini pants with two fingers, and lifts you to the ledge of the pool.

“Wearing such a skimpy outfit. You wanted to me fuck you didnt you?” Yelena says in between heavy pants. You’re affecting her as much as she is you. You just shyly shake your head in response when you look down at her. It really wasn’t your intention to tease her with the outfit, but if it got you here you definitely don't regret wearing it.

Yelena still in the water, picks both your thighs up so they’re on the side of her head and licks a long stripe up your cunt. You throw your head back, eyes half lidded in lust and anticipation. Yelena's tongue is big and pushes past your folds. You feel the heat of her thick wet muscle inside you and arch into her. Your hands are wander her hair as your moans get progressively louder.

“Ye-Yelena please, more” you whine, she moans into your pussy before latching her mouth onto your clit.

“Aah Lenaa” The grip you have on Yelena's head tightens. The tighter you hold Yelena's hair the hungrier she feels as she laps you. Yelena loves the way your gripping her head so desperately as she takes you in her mouth, her clit is pounding.

Yelena then takes two fingers and pushes them into your hole. She immediately begins to pump her finger as she sucks your clit. She can feel your walls tighten against her. She’s thrusting her long fingers quick and deep within you and soon she starts hitting that special spot.

“C-close Lena” your on the verge of tears with the way Yelenas mouth and hand are fucking you. Your vision starts to get blurry and your breathing quickens. “I know baby, I know. Cum for me. I want to taste you all over my mouth bunny”

With two more pumps of her fingers and licks at your clit you completely unravel. Her name strains past your lips as your walls convulse on her fingers and you orgasm. Yelena pumps a few more times to help you ride out your high as you squirm beneath her. You try to take some deep breaths to calm yourself, when you look over at Yelena. She’s licking the remaining cum off her fingers and you shyly look away.

“Aww don't be getting all shy on me now. Did you forget your cunt was just in my mouth?”

You pout at her and she laughs before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. She hugs the lower half of your body. You snuggle yourself on the top of her head and wrap your arms around her.

“You were such a good girl for me today. Now let's get you all cleaned up, does that sound alright bunny?” Yelena asks in a raspy voice,

You hum into her. If this is what swim practice is gonna be like for the next two weeks consider your test aced.

[yanderart]

Another installment in my yandere pov series, and inspired by a few anon requests I got to paint dabi. 

Below the cut, as customary, is a one-shot I wrote for the backstory behind the portrait (Dabi x reader, 3k, dark themes). Hope y’all enjoy 🖤

Tws: nsfw, noncon, hinted kidnapping, inner turmoil. Overall nastiness.

   Staring at the marred back of the man lying beside you, eyes following the billowing pattern of his scars, it was easy to pretend you two were just another couple sleeping side by side. Pretend that you weren’t in a ratty motel room hidden away from the world, on a mattress that creaked with any slight shift of movement, and with the bitter taste of fear resting below your tongue.

   Pretend that he loved you, just like you loved him. Fantasize that it wasn’t the type of complicated infatuation corroded by trauma filled pasts, by bitterness and the phantom of brokered trusts.

  But then Dabi turned, the hitch in his breath warning you of his now alert state, and when his cobalt eyes held your stare all illusions were promptly shattered. Wishful words died on your lips before they even had the chance of being born, the frown on his face deepening as his arms circled around you, drawing you close.

   You tried to leave your mind blank then as he pressed your face into his chest, wishing it was easier to tune him out while he muttered lazy words against the shell of your ear. 

   “What happened, Princess?”, Dabi’s sluggish smile dragged the corner of his mouth upwards, making you feel the unmistakably texture of his metallic staples digging into the side of your face, “Are you lonely?”, He was mocking you, of course, and yet it was hard to not identify the hopefulness that hid behind his jest. 

   A hopefulness that went hand to hand with his need, with the sharp line of his body enveloping you and a rapidly hardening length heating up your lower abdomen. 

   A tremble shook you, prompting you to curse beneath your breath as a low chuckle was drawn from the man holding you. 

   “Or were you cold?”, and he was still teasing you, elated in your humiliation. 

   Because you were naked in his grasp, without even a blanket to aid you or any other heating present in the musty motel room. He had refused you any covers from day one, taking away what little you owned in terms of clothing and citing the fact that you needed not hide away from his glare. But you knew the truth behind his meager explanations, the reasons why he so rejoiced in seeing you exposed and trembling.

   In the death of winter, with the cold biting at your skin and the air feeling suffocating in its humidity, he was your only source of warmth.

   It became impossible not to let out a reluctant sound of relief as he dragged his palm through your sides, heating up your skin with languid movements. Although you were luckily way past the point of feeling any embarrassment at your own willingness to stop the cold, past the point of blaming your body for reacting in the way your captor had conditioned it to do so. 

   “Want me to warm you up, then”, Dabi muttered now at the base of your neck, his breath hot and almost painful as it grazed your nearly frozen skin, “Princess was so cold she couldn't even wait for me to wake up on my own, is that it?” 

   He wasn’t even expecting an answer at that point, just talking for his own sake as your shaking became even more pronounced, getting off on forcing you to hear whatever sadistic taunts his mind provided. Unwittingly pressing yourself against him as you tried to wiggle out of his grasp (dumb girl, should’ve known better than to think you would ever get away), by the time you felt the twitching of his bulge against your stomach it was too late to try and pull back. 

   His hands were pressing you down from the small of your back before you had a chance to think of voicing any discomfort, his sarcastic laughter turned into a low rumble as he proceeded to roll his own hips into you, angling you with ease so that he was pushing against a much more sensible spot lower down.  

   With your face away from him, it was too late for you to trick yourself into zoning things out. All you could see was the dirty mattress you were forced to lay on as he continued to mutter against your pulse, the rough texture of nails diving into your flesh as he coaxed you into following his movements, setting a cadence for you both as he continued to rut into you through the thin fabric of his boxers.

   All you could feel was the disgust climbing from your gut, the burning sensation of tears you hadn’t been able to shed since your very first few weeks with Dabi. 

   “I’ll warm you up, baby”, he was whispering as one of his hands crept up your stomach, tickling your ribs with its blazing touch and making you wonder if you were about to get marked again. He sounded so utterly pleased with himself, so absolutely content, that your mind was quick to conjure up images of blue flames licking at your flesh, of the barely fading scars that littered your entire body. 

   He took one of your breasts into his grasp then and snapped you away from your lingering memories, kneading it slowly, almost carefully, before his fingers made contact with the sensible bud of your nipple. Again, it would’ve been so easy to get lost in that sensation, in that revering touch, if your circumstances didn’t make it anything short of horrifying.

   (But you were warming up already, weren’t you? Your cunt reacting despite the disgust and horror you proclaimed, slick gathering as it greedily prepared for the impending intrusion. What a liar you were, Princess.)

   He continued his lethargic rhythm as his fingers toyed with your chest, teasing himself (teasing you both), before taking his other hand away from your lower back. You were trained enough not to try getting away from Dabi by that point, knowing better than to fight the inevitable, but it was still hard not to feel shame bubbling back up as you found your own hips stuttering down to meet his out of reflex.  

   In his hands, your own body became the deadliest weapon he could wield against you.

  (Yet you’re enjoying this, you like this. Therefore, you must like him too, right?)

   His now vacant arm slid up until he was roughly grasping your jaw. He angled your face down to stare into his gaze, into his scarred face and parted lips that morphed into a perfect picture of lust riddled reverence. And seeing the longing in those orbs was far crueler than all of his jests, all of the degradation and threats. Far scarier, too. 

   “Kiss me, Princess”, he commanded then, his stern voice almost succeeding at hiding away an eagerness you knew lurked beneath. 

    And you did, because you knew the consequences you’d otherwise face. You dived down to capture his lips in a mechanical way, moving dispassionately (or that’s what you tried telling yourself, as in denial as you were) until he took over. Much in the same way he had coached your hips earlier, the hand in your jaw instructed you with light movements until a pleased sound left the back of his throat. 

   “So willing for me”, he praised in a hushed tone as he briefly broke away, voice grave and dripping with desire. 

    And just like before, it wasn’t long before he decided you were well enough accustomed to the action, and then the grip holding your jaw was once more moving downwards, his scorching touch now merely tickling you as a palm pressed against your stomach, massaging your flesh as it continued its path to the same place his thrusts were directed at. 

   Your breath caught in your throat then, eyes closing as you tried to preemptively contain your emotions. 

   Dabi did not appreciate that. 

   “Look at me”, he uttered with a dark edge, a heavy order to loom over your quivering shoulders. 

   But you kept your eyes tightly shut, feeling fingers snaking between your legs and tracing the outside of your cunt as they quickly became dampened by the wetness gathering there. The squelching sound of his digits dipping inside your folds only made you cringe further, so focused as you were into keeping immobile and quiet. 

   You wanted to disappear. (You wanted to open your eyes and moan).

   Confronted with your tenacious refusals to comply, one of his fingers made its way to your hidden nub as a response, proceeding to mercilessly rub against it before he gave you any time to become accustomed. The spiralling stimulation made it difficult not to visibly shake. There was nothing teasing or slow about his movements, unrefined and harsh, yet you thought you could feel Dabi’s frustration at your stubbornness through that touch alone. 

   “Look at me before I decide that just humping your needy cunt won’t do”, he threatened, his own words breathless and hoarse.

   Which did give you a moment of trepidation as you tried and failed at ignoring his assault on your body. Your hands were now clenched into fists against his chest, nails digging into your own flesh while his fingers delved deeper inside you. They stretched you in a way which felt uncomfortably pleasant, quickly finding your tender spots in a practiced manner. 

   “C'mon, you don't have to make it harder. You've been so good for me lately, so sweet", and despite the terrible nature of his words, the slight softening of his tone had a terrible effect on you. 

   His words scared you, terrified you, and yet the backhanded compliment only made you more lightheaded, helping the unwilling pressure steadily building up due to his quick and nimble fingers. 

   You didn't notice his face getting closer, his breaths coming in hot puffs against the skin of your tender neck, but you did feel his lips as they closed against the crook of it, his teeth as they scrapped carelessly before claiming that same spot in a painful show of dominance. 

   You were trembling now despite a part of you still commanding your eyes shut. Inside you, his digits felt warm, so filling already, and you couldn’t help clasping around them despite your attempts at ignoring any unwanted excitement. 

  (Were you seriously going to cum on the fingers of your captor? Of the man whose face now plagued your nightmares, whose voice never left your conscious mind? My, my, what a hypocrite of a whore you were.)

   “Mine”, you thought you heard Dabi whisper as his love bites continued littering your skin “My princess.”

   And wasn't it fitting, how his awful nickname for you was the last thing you heard before his fingers achieved their goal. Two of them were slamming in and out of you, filling the room with horrible wet noises that you had unsuccessfully been trying to tune out, and a third one still insistently toyed with your clit. 

   It was fast, it was relentless, and your eyes were shooting open without your permission as a choked moan finally escaped your tightly shut mouth. You shook while you came, opening your fists against your assailant's chest and trying to ignore the pungent taste of shame as you found purchase on his shoulders instead. 

   From the back of your conscience, still overwhelmed by the shots of pleasure shaking your core (by his fingers that hadn't stopped for a second, insisting on accompanying you through your orgasm), you thought you heard a satisfied hum coming from the man holding you. 

   And as the pleasure numbed slowly, as the sensations turned painful while he refused to leave your oversensitive sex, Dabi was finally exiting the cover of your neck and his cerulean eyes were finding yours again. 

   There was a satisfied smirk in his lips, his expression almost soft if it weren’t for the hidden glimmer you had learned to tell apart.

   “Now, now”, he cooed at you as he continued to force your body into overstimulation, sobs fighting to exit your throat now instead of the unsolicited moan from earlier, “I knew you’d be good. You always listen to me now after all, don't you, Princess", his other hand had started kneading your other breast, left neglected until now, and your body was so unbearably hot by that point that you would have gladly welcomed back the terrible winter cold, “You'd do whatever I ask of you, wouldn’t you?”

   It was hard to think, hard to respond as the last vestiges of your pride still leaked out of you and facilitated his relentless attack on your flesh. Your nipple was being pinched roughly, only adding to the pain of being overstimulated.

   (But you were feeling It again, right? The tell-tales of your arousal awakening for a second time. So eager to please him, to be obedient despite whatever objections you claimed to harbor). 

   Another tug at your chest, this time nails lightly digging in, and you were slapped out of your dazed state into answering with rushed words. 

   “I'll do whatever you ask, Dabi”, your voice felt foreign to you, so small, so docile, “but make it stop. Don’t...”, a sound resembling a cry fought its way out through your sentence, one which neither of you knew if it was from discomfort or a pleasure quickly gearing its head back up, “make it stop, please.”

   He was so fucking satisfied to hear your meek little pleads again then, relishing on them like a man starved after so long of your stubborn refusals to speak. To his ears, it sounded like the chorus of heavenly angels descending from the heavens to reach him. He, who if there even was such a thing as Heaven, would be better fit for the scorching flames down below. 

   And that's when you felt it again, the threat of his now bare cock coming to rest against your pussy. It was a tentative probe, almost clumsy without hands to aid him in his search, and his fingers did not ease their assaults for even a second as you tried not to feel betrayed.

   (But did you really believe he would keep his word? That he'd just hump you like an eager virgin when he knew the alluring slickness waiting to hug him, to welcome him back? You were even dumber than you looked.)

    “I know I promised", he admitted while you felt his warm erection pressing slightly, teasingly, against your slit, your own body starting to reach its second cusp without the time to even completely get down from the first, “but you took too long this time, Princess. You were being such a brat…”

   And it was almost poetically ironic, how your second orgasm hit as his fingers relented and his cock finally entered you in their place. It stretched you in a way which was no longer painful but filling (it didn’t make you cry, having you fruitlessly trying to find anything to ground yourself to as it tore you apart. Not anymore anyways). You sighed and moaned while being stuffed full, finally giving in despite any apprehension, and your pussy took him in and hugged him tight as a response. It distracted you from the shame, the guilt, the remorse, and before long your keening was filling the room with its eagerness. 

   “Maybe next time”, he kept groaning against your ear, now both hands going down to grab at the supple globes of your ass, persuading your pliant body into follow the rhythm he was easily setting, “if you're better then, if you…”, even for him it was becoming harder to talk, entranced as he was by the welcoming hold of your inner walls, “if you don't wake me up, if you aren’t so needy. Maybe then, fuck.”

   You were still cumming as his halfhearted promises mingled with his excuses, as he became lost in his own pleasure, in using you as he saw fit. And, lost as you were in the sensations, you were foolish enough to think them true for a moment.

   Maybe next time, you repeated to yourself as his thrust become frantic. His grip on your ass turned painful as he lost sight of the force he was using, his palms heating inadvertently and your skin sizzling below them. You'd have more marks once all was said and done, more patterns to add to your growing collection. 

   Maybe next time he woke up he'd let you go. Maybe he'd finally understand love was not a prison nor a leash. Maybe next time he would ask for your forgiveness, understanding all the trauma and horror he was forcing you to endure. 

  (Or maybe you'd be the one asking for penance, kneeling in front of him and finally seeing him in the way he so desired. Maybe you would start understanding the dimension of his efforts then, of his love for you that he knew not how to show otherwise. A love that scared him as much as it damaged you.)

   As his hoarse moans mingled with your own, you were too drunk on your own fantasies to even attempt to squirm away before he was filling you up with his seed, your walls still convulsing around him as your body stayed attentive, pliant and tender. His lips were kissing you, licking you in poor attempt at providing comfort, and yet you felt a hopeful smile turning the corners of your lips ever so slightly. 

   So many things could happen next time. And anything would be better than this, right? Feeling his cum coating your insides as a litany of nonsense left Dabi's mouth, his softening cock refusing to leave and allow any drop to leak out. Anything had to be better than being owned, being conquered. 

   (So naïve you were, the only person you had gotten good at convincing was your damn self.)

   “Love you, princess", his head was buried in your neck again, his favorite place in your body to hide in while he slowly rocked you both, “so fucking much.”

   And in his own twisted way, as much as you wanted to fight and argue, you didn't doubt his words. Such a twisted love it was, but unquestionable in his burning desire. 

   Even as it charred you to a crisp, leaving nothing but ashes behind and deadlier than anything his quirk might subject you to. 

   Dabi loved you, his sweet little princess, and maybe if you weren't so stubborn you could start loving him back. 

****

Probably the longest one-shot I've posted alongside a portrait so far, since I'm still getting comfortable with the length of my writings (still cant believe people read and enjoy these lol). And special thanks to my pals @reinawritesbnha, @coyambition and @snappysnapo for lending me a pair of eyes before posting 🖤 love y'all !

🥀 Requests/Suggestions OPEN 🥀

[colorisbyshe]

Feel free not to answer, but I've always found your thoughts insightful and I'd like to hear your opinion on this if you care to give it. If not, fine. You're still rad af. Anyway, my question is: do you count monogendered alien races as LGBT rep? What TvTropes (cringe ik) calls Discount Lesbians. Personally, I don't. As a nb bisexual, I hate nb representation in the form of robots or aliens and never humans in particular, but monogendered races and pretending that's good gay rep also bothers me

Do they count as rep? Yeah. Do they count as GOOD rep?

... Sometimes?

I think "alien" (read: any non-human) species can be a good place to explore "What does our understanding of sex, gender, and sexuality look like without human history or human biology?" Does "biological sex" as a concept hold up when you run into an entire planet of beings that share the same parts? Does gender? Can transness still exist on this planet? What does gender PERFORMANCE mean?

Does thsi impact fashion? Music? Courtship rituals? Does this change sexuality? Can there still be a "deviant" way to approach sexual intimacy? If there is... why? Why create an other?

There are some extremely compelling stories to be had here and can serve as a sharp contrast with "human" understandings of sexuality/gender. Hell, you can even have humans from different cultures have different reactions to these mono-sexed (but maybe not mono gendered?) beings. Because there IS no one human understanding of sex, gender, and sexuality.

And then... is there friction when the humans impose THEIR understanding onto the aliens/robots/whatever? Like, if there are humanoid aliens that kinda look like what society expects women to look like (breasts, thin figures, idk long fucking hair, whatever "fantasy" creators do to female code their aliens, you know what I'm talking aout), how do they feel when a gay girl astronaut is like "Brooo, lesbian aliens!" Do they find HER femaleness, her gayness confusing? Maybe even repugnant?

How do they respond to the often binary understanding of human sexuality and gender? Do they find straight people confusing because being with someone who isn't similarly "sexed" or "gendered" to you is a foreign concept to them? Or does it make sense to them for some reason?

Is the text who has "nonbinary robots" or "all lesbian aliens" or whatever engaging with that thoughtfully?

Do they have human nonbinary or lesbian or gay or trans characters to contrast with them or... are the robots/aliens it?

Is the story wholly without humans? Is it maybe wish fulfillment for a nonbinary person who wishes they were a robot or cyborg who can spot out parts at will? ARe the aliens/robots a metaphor for how otherized these groups feel?

Are these aliens/robots villainized?

Fantasy/sci fi dabbling with sexuality, gender, or even race, neurodivergence and ability, or class can be a BOUNTIFUL place to explore your own cultures take on said subjects. But it can be fraught with issues and implications, the same way so many "This group of people with powers is feared by society and this is a metaphor for race or sexuality" ends up being derailed by "Well, yeah, these powers can kill people,” cause that's a legitimate reason to fear people. There is no legitimate reason to be homophobic or racist or whatever else we're putting in juxtaposition. “These mutants are blowing up random people the street” or “these predators are eating the herbivores” are like... genuinely scary concepts, even if the mutants or predators are “oppressed.”

Like, "Nonbinary robot, yeehaw, we're exploring body modification and body autonomy to combat atypical dysphoria" is great... "Nonbinary people are unfeeling and are gonna end humanity" is bad.

So, I have no singular judgment for these stories. Some have great intentions and fail anyways. Some have horrible intentions and end up compelling and accidentally good anyways. Some coast by on good stories even when there's bad implications. Some manage to make their points flawlessly.

And some never intended on them being LGBT rep.

[nurse-buckley]

Together

Fandom: 9-1-1 Word Count: 2,273 Pairing: Buddie Warnings: Mentions of panic attacks, blood, injuries.  Tagslist: @firemedicdiaz @fireladybuckley @winterreader-nowwriter @iamasimpingh0e @dayrin085 @hauntedmilkshakeghost @floralbuckleys @alexxavicry If you want to be added or taken off my tagslist please let me know! Authors Notes: thank you to @thatnerdemryn​ for reading over this and your feedback - I actually completely forgot about this fic and have been sleeping on it for a WHILE!  Written for @buddiebingo - ‘free space’ because I am not sure really where this would fit in - it’s just some good old fashioned Buddie comfort! 

If it wasn’t the nightmares keeping Eddie awake that night, it was the navy uniform staring at him from where it hung on his closet door. Brand new, crisp and still in the plastic, his golden badge already placed on the breast pocket. It had been there since Buck had brought it over earlier in the day, in preparation for his first shift back the next morning. 

It had hung there all day, out of sight and out of mind. But now, in the dim light of his bedroom, the light from the hallway seemed to cast a menacing shadow on the garment. He could feel it mocking him, staring and burning a hole into his back as he tried and failed to get some sort of rest. Sleep didn’t come easy to him, it never had since he left the army. Only now the flashbacks of war were replaced with the visions of himself laying in the street, visions of Buck covered in blood, both his own and Buck’s as the nightmares twisted the memories, different scenarios to how the day could have gone playing in his mind every time he closed his eyes. 

Eddie opened his eyes once more, taking a deep shuddering breath, submitting himself to the fact that sleep wouldn’t come to him anytime soon. He looked up at the uniform once more. The uniform he hadn’t worn since Buck had ripped it open in the back seat of the fire truck. He hadn’t stepped foot on a fire truck since he’d been hoisted into Buck’s arms and thrown into the back seat, laying on the cool leather seats as the blood poured from the wound in his shoulder. He hadn’t even stepped foot into the station since that fateful morning. His shoulder twinged, his own body betraying him, not even letting him forget the trauma for a moment. 

With a sigh, he rubbed a tired hand over his face, ripping off the covers in frustration. Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, he stomped over to the wardrobe, taking a moment to stare the uniform down as if he were back in the fighting ring, squaring up to an opponent. Eddie grabbed the plastic covered shirt and swung open the door, shoving it in before slamming the door shut once more. He cringed at the loud noise the door made as it slammed against the catch, remembering the sleeping boy in the next room over. 

Turning around, the firefighter noticed the time on the alarm clock. 4:59am. He’d need to be up soon, get Christopher up and dressed, make his breakfast and lunch for school. Drop him off at Abuela’s. It was a routine he missed if he was being honest with himself. But there was still a deep pit in his stomach, the routine meant he’d be going back to work. 

With his mind made up, Eddie made his way out of his bedroom, pausing to check in on his son, who thankfully was still sleeping soundly, unaffected by his earlier outburst. Seeing Chris made his chest tighten. The kid had already lost his mother and now almost his father too, again, and this time it wasn’t even on a call. It was in the middle of a random LA street, a situation he had no control over. 

A short while later, Eddie found himself leaning on the kitchen counter, a mug of coffee in hand. Chris’ lunch had been made, the ingredients for chocolate chip pancakes were all measured out and ready to go and he’d even tidied up a little, the nervous energy leaving him unable to sit down. With his mind and his hands unoccupied, the anxious thoughts creeped their way into his head once more. He pulled the phone from his pocket, knowing his alarm was about to go off anytime now. Without a second thought, he pulled his phone from his pocket, opening up the messages between him and Buck. 

‘I think I’m going to leave coming back for a few more days. I just don’t think Chris is ready.’ 

He cringed as soon as the message was sent, hating how he was dragging Chris into his mess. 

The three dots appeared at the bottom of the screen, showing Buck had read his message and was replying. Before he could wait, his alarm went off, signalling the start of the day. Eddie felt his phone vibrate as the message came through, but chose to ignore it, instead going to wake Chris up. 

With Chris in the shower, and his phone seemingly burning a hole in his pocket, Eddie finally plucked up the courage to check his notifications. Sure enough, the screen showed a new message from his friend. 

‘Chris isn’t ready, or you’re not ready? ‘

Eddie cringed, tapping the phone to his head in frustration at how well his partner knew him. Buck had been there for him throughout his recovery, since the moment he’d been shot, when he’d woken up in hospital and the weeks after, helping him settle back in and helping with the chores around the house until he’d practically had to beg Buck to go and take some time for himself. That he was going to be okay. But it just meant Buck had been there for the nights when he couldn’t sleep because of the pain, the nights when he couldn’t sleep due to the fear and ultimately the nights when he awoke screaming. 

‘I just don’t think it’s the right time, a couple more days?’  

He cringed again, hating how weak he sounded. He wasn’t sure how to follow the message, wanting to expand but at the same time, he just couldn’t bring himself to. But Buck was a step ahead of his thoughts. 

‘Do you need me to come over?’ 

Eddie’s fingers moved before he’d even had a chance to think for himself. 

‘Please…’ 

Eddie busied himself once more by making a start on breakfast, thankfully he’d made enough that Buck could join in too, if he wanted. His mind and nerves were on edge for a whole other reason now. Letting Buck in had been easy, the natural rhythm they’d fallen into in looking after Chris and each other during his recovery had just felt natural. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss having Buck around the house. 

Not 15 minutes later, he heard a knock on his door. He knew Buck had keys, they all shared keys in case something went wrong or they needed to check in on one another, but this was different. Buck had practically been living in his apartment for the last month. Eddie opened the door, his breath catching in his throat as he saw Buck standing there in his own navy uniform. His mind immediately sprang back to his own, shut away in his closet. 

“Something smells good,” Buck announces, his smile wide, clearly avoiding the subject at hand. 

Eddie stepped aside, letting him in. “Chris is just in the shower, but I promised I’d make him pancakes. He’s going to be thrilled to see you. He keeps asking when you’ll be by again.” 

The younger man moved to take a seat at the table, smiling as Eddie handed him his own mug of coffee. Eddie missed this. Missed the domesticity, the way Buck just fit into their lives. He could see Buck was gearing up to say something, the way his eyebrows were slightly furrowed and the fact his coffee cup seemed to be more interesting than looking at Eddie. 

“Why don’t you go and get ready. I’ll finish off breakfast and keep an ear out and help Chris if he needs,” Buck suggested, leaving little room for argument. 

Eddie’s back stiffened, swallowing as he nodded his head, mentally preparing himself for the task ahead. He made his way to his room as Buck replaced his position at the stove, pouring a scoop of batter in the pan and heating up another pancake. 

By the time Chris had appeared, dressed and ready for school, there was a plate piled high with pancakes but no sign of Eddie. He flipped a pancake onto the plate for Chris, grabbing the container of whipped cream from the fridge and squirting a helping onto the younger boy's plate. “Shh, don’t tell your dad.” 

Chris giggled in response, tucking into his plate as Buck watched on with a smile. He’d missed them both on his return to his own apartment. It felt too quiet, too lonely. With Eddie out of the room, he decided to broach the subject. “Chris, your dad tells me you’re worried about him going back to work? Want to talk about it?” 

Buck had been there for the pair of them throughout Eddie’s recovery. The older man wasn’t the only one who was plagued by nightmares or who woke up with a scream or cry in the middle of the night. Chris had been through so much in his short life and Buck’s heart hurt when he heard his name being called out after the first few nights he was staying at Eddie’s place, the tsunami and his dad being away haunting his dreams. 

“He still wakes up screaming. He thinks I don’t hear, but I do,” the younger boy announced sadly. 

“Do you want him to stay home for longer? Are you scared he’ll get hurt again?” 

“I want him to stay home but I want him to go back to being a firefighter and saving people. I’m not scared, you’ll be there to protect him.” Chris' smile both broke and warmed Buck’s heart, the kid was so strong, even after everything. 

Buck thought for a moment. Chris was scared about Eddie going back to work, he was bound to be. But he knew Eddie was lying when he said it was Chris who needed the push for him to go back, and not himself. 

With Eddie still not at the table, Buck rose from his seat, ruffling Chris’ hair with a promise to be right back. “I’m just going to see where your dad is, finish up here.” 

The younger firefighter slowly made his way down to his friend's bedroom, lightly knocking on the door before entering. Eddie was sitting on his bed, his back to his door wearing only his boxers. His uniform once more hanging from his closet door. 

“I can’t do it.” 

The confession was so quiet that Buck almost missed it. He stepped further into the room, closing the door a little so he could still keep an ear out for Christopher if he needed him. “Eds,” Buck breathed. 

“The last time I wore that uniform I almost died. Who’s to say I don’t put that on today and end up in a similar situation?” 

“It’s what we do, Eddie. We put our lives on the line every day. But remember, I’ve always got your back. I will always get you back home to Chris.” 

Eddie shook his head, still not trusting himself that this was the right thing to do or the right day to do it. 

“No day is going to feel like the right day to go back. I was terrified after the bombing, after the tsunami, after the well. But I’ve got you, and you’ve got me. We’re going to get through this, just like we always do. Together.” 

Eddie sucked in a breath, eventually nodding his head as he agreed with what Buck had told him. He made a move to stand but was stopped with a hand on his shoulder. The younger firefighter made his way to the closet, grabbing his shirt, carefully pulling the plastic off. He hung the shirt back on the door, making quick work of the buttons before sliding it off the hanger. Buck brought the uniform to Eddie, motioning for him to stand and turn, holding it out like Eddie does every morning when he helps Chris into his jacket. Eddie allowed him to slide it up his arms, hanging the fabric over his shoulders, before spinning him around, their gazes meeting. 

Buck continued and began buttoning up the shirt, going slow and at Eddie’s pace, pausing occasionally to see if the man was still comfortable. Eddie felt a shiver run through him as Buck’s fingers brushed against his skin. The uniform didn’t feel like a weight on him as he expected. The action of Buck holding the shirt to ease his arms into the sleeves, turning him around and slowly to do up the buttons; it was a complete contrast to his actions a few weeks ago and exactly what Eddie needed. 

With the buttons all done up, Buck gave him a pat on the chest, brushing off a few stray pieces of lint before stepping back and admiring his handy work. “Need help with the pants too, or have you got that covered?” Buck quipped with a cheeky smile. 

It earned him a pillow to the face, but he would take that any day to see the smile and relief on Eddie’s face. Buck turned to leave, giving Eddie the privacy to continue getting ready on his own. 

“Buck?” 

The younger man turned at his name, raising his eyebrows, waiting for Eddie to continue. 

“Thank you.” 

“Anytime,” he turned to leave, closing the door once more. It was clear now to the pair of them, there were feelings on both sides. Feelings that would eventually need to be addressed. But for now, they were going to take it one step at a time, and with whatever happens in the future, they know they will face it together.

[chiwhorei]

team spirit

pairing: k. sakusa x fem!reader x a. miya

genre: college!au, smut, 18+ minors dni

word count: 2.6k

warnings: threesome, semi-public sex, daddy kink, spitting, a spank, a tiny bit of choking, tit-fucking, degradation, a little coercion, curruption, gaslighting, voyeurism, a subtle age gap (freshman vs. senior in college), cum play, cum eating. nothing too crazy and everything is consensual- it’s just pretty dirty lmao

a/n: in a radical act of self care i have given up on kinktober as it was killing all love that i had for writing. i present to you a piece written solely because it made me h-word. thank you to the love of my life @hqbbg for beta reading, you have my soul and share my desire to be mask-man’s little bitch.

hymn: smells like teen spirit by: nirvana

“Didn’t I tell ya’, princess?” Atsumu’s voice is low and sharp against the shell of your ear as he brushes away a rogue strand of hair from where it fell from your high-pony. The action gentle, the tone unmistakingly galled. “I told ya to behave, but ya’ never want to listen to me.”

The grip he has on you is bruising, fingers nestled on your hips, large hands scrunching your pleated cheer skirt and exposing you to the almost empty locker room. Your boyfriend’s hard-on is distinct against his shorts, pressing against your bare cunt. Your hips buck desperately in his hold, but any fight is useless. There’s no way Atsumu will give you more than just minimal friction; only enough to make you dizzy and malleable in his capture.

Atsumu isn’t oblivious. He’s fully aware of how sweet you look every week, cheering on the sidelines of his games, donning his jersey number in a heart on the apple of your cheek. Having the prettiest little member of your college’s cheer squad in his bed every night never fails to fill him with an almost evil pride. Ever since the beginning of the season, your first year in college, Atsumu has been on you. The moment he first saw you, skin sheened with a layer of sweat and workout shorts riding up high enough to see the angelic curve of your ass cheeks, you were his. He totes a fine line, dancing between cockiness at his prize girlfriend when you’re hit on or ogled, and egregious rage.

Game-night started the same as any other: Astumu sneaking away before warm-ups to kabedon you against the wall when you walked out of the girls locker room. You always flush red-hot, no matter how many times he traps you, fiddling with the pom-poms in your hold. He grabs them from you, tossing them without care onto the ground to pull you tightly against his hard chest, your wrist pinned against the front of your uniform top in one of his hands. The rest of your squad walks by the two of you without much thought; the scene unfolding is rehearsed at this point. It seems like the whole student-body ignores the two of you.

“You act more like a horny teenager than a senior in college, Atsumu.” You puff your cheeks out and glare at him from the fringe of your perfectly curled eyelashes. The fake-blond towering above you snorts at your defiance.

“Well, you act more like an old prude than a freshman in college, princess.” His lips dip lower to fan over yours, “And my name ain’t Atsumu.”

Your knees feel weak trapped in his grip, his presence a strange mix of comfort and distress. You’re welcomed home into the den of a lion. You gulp down a painful air bubble trapped in your throat and mumble an apology.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

It seems to please the arrogant setter, earning you a chirpy laugh as he twirls a piece of your hair in his finger. You hate when Atsumu seems upset with you, so relief washes over you at the light gesture. He releases his hold on your wrists and pulls you into a sloppy kiss. You melt into the feeling of his lips, his hands rubbing up and down your arms lazily, causing your body to slack against him. Atsumu’s attention always renders you compliant (often against better judgement).

“I’ve gotta go, but make sure I hear ya’ cheering out there for me, sweetheart,” he says after letting go of your lips with one last nip. So begins the quick restoration of your uniform from where it was misplaced by setter fingers. After you’ve collected yourself under the watchful eye of your senior, you bend at the waist to pick up the stray poms and feel the swift union of Atsumu’s hand against your ass. You scoff at his childishness, even though you had expected it. Game nights are always the same.

The same round of cat and mouse, the same suffocating sexual tension and embarrassing public display.

The only anomaly tonight is the lecherous stare of your boyfriend's teammate on your folded body. A stare that shouldn’t belong to the curly haired man fixes onto you and the view of your tight pair of spandex has turned him into stone.

Pride is a cardinal sin, and so is lust.

“Do ya’ like what ya’ see, Omi? She’s a pretty little thing ain’t she?” Your eyes snap up to meet the gaze of the man in front of your disheveled form. Sakusa’s eyes are dark and cold; his expression reads indifference, but the hard cock in his shorts is clearly seen. He’s frozen in place a few feet in front of the bench you’re displayed on. Your crisp white sneakers are on either side of Atsumu’s built thighs, knees bent and held in place by the man under you. Your uniform top and bra have been pushed up unceremoniously, freeing your tits to bounce slightly with every squirm. Sakusa watches every jiggle of soft, supple skin in front of him. The tent in his boxers is becoming painful with every heave. Both hands are pressed stiffly to his sides, left hand clutching your white, cotton panties. The fabric is damp, sticking slightly against his fingers and making him cringe. Disgusting.

Atsumu’s hand wanders down to spread the puffy lips of your pussy, long middle finger proading against your tight hole. Atsumu growls at the feeling of your arousal, not wasting any time sticking a digit into you with practiced movements. You whimper at the intrusion, legs feeling weak and shaky from their strained position as Atsumu adds a second finger with ease. He always knows exactly how to work you over, rendering you at a loss for words with his prodding against the spongy anterior of your pussy.

“Y/n is always such a little mess on her daddy’s fingers.” His middle and pointer finger are pulled out with a resounding pop and his palm lands a harsh pat against your clit. “Do you like putting on a show for Sakusa-san? He seems to fancy ya’, doesn't he?” You’re asked a question but can only yelp in response as Atsumu’s fingers are shoved back into you, pumping with fervor.

The tall man in front of you is only partially familiar; aside from volleyball games and visiting your boyfriend at practice, you’ve only seen Sakusa at the occasional party or team dinner. He’s never seemed too keen on getting to know you before, but now he’s palming himself at the sight of your most intimate angles completely open for his viewing pleasure. Sakusa’s slightly flushed cheeks and boring stare causes your cunt to clench around Atsumu’s fingers. Ever the painfully observant man, neither the tightening muscles nor the reason behind it is lost on the blond.

“Ya’ like being watched, that’s why yer sloppy pussy’s extra wet tonight, huh?” You shake your head frantically, not wanting to admit that the heat rising in your stomach is due to your voyeur’s deep brown eyes. Atsumu is a prideful man, some would say too much so, a fact he’ll have to atone for later. One thing he isn’t? Greedy.

“Omi-omi~” The singing of the stupid nickname seems to snap Sakusa out of his stupor as he flicks his eyes to meet Atsumu’s. “Don’t be shy, c’mere.” Sakusa is still working long strokes over his confined cock, stepping forward to further invade your personal space. Atsumu’s chin rests against your shoulder, face amused and casual, disconnected from what his hands are holding.

All you can do is look up at the looming figure, black hair falling in front of his face and mouth set in a harsh line. You’re eye level with the bulge in his shorts now, so close you can almost feel the fabric against your lips. Every sense is overwhelmed, crowded in the abandoned locker room with your boyfriend working you open in front of his teammate. Sakusa reaches out and runs his finger over the uniform top that sits wrinkled up above your breasts. His calloused pad runs over the article in a moment of contemplation, before pinching your hardened nipple. A surprised yelp falls from your lips along with the already tumbling whines.

Distracted by your new company, Atsumu’s cock releasing from his shorts goes unnoticed. With the dark, inky stare keeping you hostage, you only realize his fingers are being replaced when the hardened tip is pressing into you. A pathetic squeal rips through your throat at the breach. No matter how many times Atsumu stretches you out on his fat cock, it burns every time.

“I think ya’ should help Sakusa-san out, princess.” Another few inches disappear, your shaky balance is corrected with one of Atsumu’s hands wrapping around your neck, “Since it’s yer dirty little body that’s got ‘em all hard.”

The intonation wracks you with guilt, looking up at Sakusa with bleary, begging eyes. You’re not sure what exactly you’re begging for.

There’s no restraint left in Sakusa, having used most of it up when your panties were ripped off and tossed to him with a cheeky wink from his setter. He shoves said garment into his pocket before pushing his shorts and boxers down enough for his cock to spring free. Your eyes roll slightly at the sight in front of you, impressive in length and pleasantly veiny. Right under his head, you see two freckles, noting they almost mimic the ones right above his eyebrow.

Atsumu’s cock is snugly inside you, buried to the hilt, and you're pulled back into his broad chest by the grip on your throat. Sakusa holds himself at the base, stroking upwards and swirling his thumb against the precum collecting at his tip. He leans over you, slapping his head against your tits experimentally. The reaction Sakusa gets seems to be the one he was seeking, as your whispered cries thump to the same beat of his length against your skin.

“Such a nasty girl. You always look so sweet and innocent cheering for us. Does he fuck you like this after every game?” Sakusa has found his voice, regarding you coolly. Tears prick at your eyes, any retort caught behind your teeth as you stare back dumbly.

“Answer ‘em princess,” Atsumu lifts you up slightly to slam you back down onto his heavy cock; the sound is squelching in the stale air around you, “tell ‘em how you cream on Daddy’s cock after everyone leaves.”

“I- please, I-” You’re cut off by your own mewl when a string of saliva breaches Sakusa’s lips and falls towards your chest, watching as it ascends onto the valley between your tits. As it rolls down your sweat-sheened skin, the black-haired man rubs his weeping cock down the map his spit makes. Your brain is fuzzy at the attention of both men, warming your boyfriend's cock as his teammate grinds himself on your naked chest.

Sakusa grabs your wrists, causing your thighs to wobble weakly from their squatted position, and presses your palms to hold your breasts against his shaft. The pressure has Sakusa’s head falling back as soft, warm skin welcoming his shallow thrusts.

“Such a complaint little pet you have, Miya.” His hand brushes against your cheek and trails downwards to find purchase on your chin. “Dirty little girl,” his voice coos you, “Open wide.”

Your mouth falls at his order, fussing weakly at the nickname. Another sharp putt meets your ears and his warm spit hits the fattest plane of your tongue. Tears escape at the sides of your eyes with the overwhelming presence. Atsumu begins a slow assault on your aching pussy, removing the hand on your throat to pull your hips against his lap. The rhythm is a salacious duet with the cock nestled between your tits and has you clenching even tighter.

“Ya’ better not swallow Omi’s spit until I say so, princess. Keep that wicked tongue out for him to paint.” You do as you're told, as always, tongue lolled out with a pant. At your passivity, Atsumu rewards you with tight circles to your throbbing clit. His cheek presses against your own, peering over to watch his friend’s cock against your chest with wonder. Such a distinct beauty is found in the ruined body on top of him. As much as Atsumu appreciates the sweet, loving moments that he shares with you, the sight of your precious body bent to his will makes his dick twitch acutely. It’s sick how much he enjoys seeing how far he can push you-

“I’m going to cum on your girlfriend's sweet face, Miya. Christ, it’s disgusting how much she seems to want it.”

However, your enjoyment in your own depravity and humiliation is much more sickening.

Atsumu’s pace picks up, skin slapping against your sore pussy with new resolve. He wants to see you break into pieces right on the locker room bench. Your vision is spotting at the pressure on your clit, mixing with the dulled sting of being split open on the blond setter's thick cock. All you can do is produce a garbled squeal from around your dangling tongue. Sakusa pulls his cock from your chest, pumping his hand feverishly against the soft skin. The sight is almost unbelievable: a man who barely allows his teammates a high-five has your hair wrapped around his other fist. Your head is yanked back, eyes entrapped by Sakusa’s. Atsumu’s fingers are unrelenting against the bundle of nerves that now feels more like a ticking time-bomb.

“C’mon princess, don’t hold back on us. I wanna see ya’ cum right in front of Omi. Show’em how much team spirit ya’ got.” Atsumu’s teeth bite down onto your neck, angling his tip to press against that deepest spot inside of you. The fraying cord in your stomach is pulled taught, snapping at the feeling of Sakusa’s hot cum against your face, thick spurts landing on your cheer uniform and splattering against your already marred tongue.

Your own orgasm tears through you, burning deeply through every vein in your body. It’s sinful how your body reacts to the messy splotching of a stranger's cum against you, thrown head-first into release at the ministrations of the men on either side of you. Your tight rings of muscles pulsate around Atsumu’s cock, coaxing his own orgasm out to meet your silky insides. There’s nothing better in the world, Atsumu thinks to himself, than fucking his hot cum into your sweet, submissive body.

As the pair of volleyball players steady their own breathing, another menacing laugh escapes your boyfriend’s mouth. He peers over the mess in front of him, strings of cum drawing random patterns against your chest and cheeks. He turns your face towards him and smiles, finding that you did exactly as he asked. Your mouth wide, tongue still stuck out and awaiting further instruction. Such a perfect girl you are, letting Atsumu’s most debased fantasies play out on your innocent little body. Your job is to motivate his team after all, and there’s no better way to boost comradery after a win than to celebrate the best way he knows how.

“Team spirit, huh?” Sakusa tucks himself back into his shorts, leaning in to swipe his cum against your lips as a parting gift. You watch him with glassy eyes and suck on the digit when pressed against your tongue.

“That’s for sure.”

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

[queenshelby]

Let’s Get Kinky

31 Days of Kink: Day 9 (Early Release)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut, Daddy Kink, Age Gap

Words: 1,659

Imagine being Cillian’s much younger girlfriend. He has been busy and stressed lately, working on a theatre play and you have been aching for him.

Lately, he hasn’t given you much attention and you decided to tease him the way you knew best.

Cillian hated it when you referred to him as ‘daddy’ in a sexual way. After all, he had about twenty years on you. But you enjoyed getting under his skin in order to get your way. It usually worked and you often managed to awaken the dominant and kinky side in him.

***

‘Guess who’s been a naughty girl today’ you smirked, lying on the bed completely naked, your legs spread widely as he walked into the bedroom somewhat exhausted.

‘I wonder’ he winked before having a chuckle about your comment. ‘I am going to have a shower babe’ he then went on to say after giving you a quick kiss, disinterested in what you had to offer.

‘I will just have to touch myself then Daddy’ you pouted as you slipped your hand in between your legs suggestively.

The word made Cillian cringe but you certainly got his attention now. He turned around and looked at you with wide eyes.

After playing with yourself for about two minutes while Cillian watched you, you got of the bed and walked over to where he was standing.

‘I am so fucking wet for you Daddy’ you whispered into his ear while you grabbed his hand and placed it in between your legs.

Cillian cringed again but let out a ragged breath at the same time as he could feel your soaking mound with the tips of his fingers.

With a quiet sigh, he guided you back onto the bed.

‘Be a good girl then and lie down, eh’ he instructed after giving your ass a quick smack, knowing how much you liked it.

‘Yes Daddy’ you giggled, causing Cillian to chuckle.

He positioned your head so he could see your face and maintain eye contact as he sat beside you. He ran a finger down over your breasts, eliciting a whimper from you immediately.

‘Shh…stay still and quiet for me darling, don’t make a sound’ he crooned and saw a slight nod of your head in response to his words.

Cillian let his fingers linger on your breasts before moving down your stomach slowly. He then continued, drawing his hand down your leg, before running back upwards over your inner thigh. Your legs were still relatively close together, but he didn't make any effort to part them. He passed over your pussy with the slightest of touches, causing you to moan again.

‘What did I say?’ he asked sternly in response to your moan.

‘That I should be quiet’ you said, biting your lip.

‘Correct’ he said as he lowered his head down and kissed over your breasts.

Your nipples were hard, your breasts swollen with arousal. You arched your back, trying to tempt him into touching them, but he resisted the temptation you offered him. You almost whimpered as his hand moved lower to rest over your belly. He slid his fingers across your stomach a few times, lowering towards your pussy with each pass, making you give voice to your whimper when he stopped his hand just about your mound.

Resisting the urge to move your body again to tempt him and show what you wanted, you gazed up into his heated eyes as he slipped a finger downwards, between your lips and over your clit, delving lower, seeking your wet core.

Cillian glided his finger through your wetness, easily parting your lips as he pressed in. There was no resistance as he felt your legs and thighs relax outwards to let him in as he delved deeply into you. He curled his finger inwards, finding the little spongy area inside you, pressing upwards. His thumb was resting over your clit. He held his hand still, applying pressure, knowing that you would be fighting the need to move against his fingers. You began to rotate your hips in small movements making him give you a stern look again as a warning.

‘I am in control today. You don't move or make a sound!’ Cillian growled at you, wanting to see your reaction to his strict inner Dom. He began to rotate his thumb and press his fingers against the ridged G-spot within you. Your eyes were closed as you pushed your head back into the mattress and bit your lower lip. He knew that he could make your cum in seconds if he wanted, he could feel the muscles in your legs trembling, and he imagined titillating currents ran from your pussy along your nerve endings to push your closer to the edge of ecstasy.

You shifted your ass, trying to feel more pressure from his fingers. You knew you shouldn't move, but you were so close it was almost painful to find your climax just out of reach.

Cillian's fingers continued their rhythm, pressing hard into you but circling gently around your clit. You were so wet, he was finding it challenging to resist stopping to taste you, which would be his usual approach by this point. You tensed, and he knew you was almost there. Your hand moved onto your breast, and he immediately withdrew his fingers, cutting off your impending orgasm.

‘That was naughty’ he chastised as you gasped, widening your eyes and flinging your hands from your body, knowing he had caught you doing something you shouldn't.

He had known that at some point, you wouldn't be able to resist helping to reach your climax, no matter how hard you tried to obey his commands. It was at that moment of climax, just before the first release, that you become unaware of your own actions.

Cillian was aware that time was running short, so to press his point with you, he undid his belt buckle and slid his belt through his jeans' loops. He lifted your hands up and slid his belt around them, pulling your wrists tightly together. The tail of the belt passed through twice, forming a knot. Then he placed your hands above your head onto the pillow.

‘No touching!’ Cillian growled.

Looking straight into your eyes, Cillian stroked his hand down your body again. He thrust two fingers into you without warning this time. He knew it wouldn't take long to get your back to where you had been. He wanted you to have that internal fight within yourself as your mind battled your body between self-control and the desire for release. He settled into a rhythm again, slowly building the pace. He stroked around your breasts and teased your nipples with his other hand to show your that he understood your needs.

You felt your body immediately begin to respond. Your eyes closed once more, and your chest heaved as your breathing deepened. Your whole body was outstretched, elongated on the bed from your hands above your head to your legs extending downwards as your hips push up to meet his internal touches. You tried to stifle the sounds escaping your mouth, but it was all too much for you now. Biting your lip, you momentarily opened your eyes to look for Cillian's reaction. Surprisingly he smiled down at you, lowering his head to kiss your lips which you savoured hungrily.

‘I feel you getting close again. You want to come, don't you?’ he crooned and saw the enthusiastic head nod.

Pushing your head back and stretching your arms tightly above you to touch the headboard and show your obedience, you kept your gaze locked to his. His fingers continue to press into you, and he rotated his thumb on your clit. You felt the tingling tendrils of pleasure running through your as your pussy tightened around his fingers.

It killed Cillian to watch you writhing in pleasure under his hands and not bury himself inside you. His whole body sung with his own need, and the temperature in the room was soaring as he held your climax just out of reach for a few minutes more.

Your head stretched back as you arched impossibly higher. Your breasts were standing firm, your nipples were erect, rising and falling with your heavy breathing. You were struggling to maintain control. Your entire body was quivering, and your body glowed with the sheen of perspiration. You began to fail to stifle the sounds of your desperation for release.

Cillian felt you tighten all over, your lips closed, your eyes ablaze, screaming for satisfaction. Your eyes were pleading with him as he held you frozen in time for a few more seconds; your whole body began to tremble violently when he lowered his mouth close to your ear to whisper.

‘Cum for me baby. You can let go now’ he said and barely completed the words when you exploded, your body jerking and spasming as the climax took you over.

Your head pushed back abruptly as the first wave of your orgasm flooded through your body. You stiffened then crumpled. Your body tensed and weakened with each successive wave of the wildfire that travelled through your body, reaching every nerve ending. Eventually, you slumped, your body like that of a rag doll. You could feel Cillian undo the loop of his belt and slip it out through the buckle, releasing your wrists. You lay still, feeling unable to move now that you were free of the restraint.

‘Rest while I shower and then I might let you come again when I get back’ Cillian instructed.

‘Yes Daddy’ you winked, causing Cillian to cringe once again and playfully roll his eyes at you.

‘Good girl’ he winked as he disappeared into the bathroom.

Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03  @deefigs @theflamecrystal   @desperate-and-broken  @weepingstudentfishhorse   @livinginfantaxy  @rosey1981  @atomicsoulcollecto  @peakyboyslover  @nerdy4itall  @elenavampire21  @hanster1998  @mariapaiva13  @fairypitou  @harry-is-my-sunflower  @zozeebo  @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa  @littlewierdalien  @sad-huffle-nerd  @theflamecrystal   @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @themissthang  @0ghostwriter0  @stylescanbeatmyback  @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni  @momoneymolife  @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03  @mcntsee@cloudofdisney @missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @otterly-fey @janelongxox  @uchihacumdump @basiclassy  @being-worthy  @chaotic-bean-of-smolness  @margoo0 @chocolatehalo​  @vhscillian​  @ysmmsy​  

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee  @daydreamingnymph  @fookingshelby

[kpop-dungeon-dark]

The Gamble Of Prides. (Mafia!Baekhyun x You)

•TRIGGER WARNING•

Warning(s): Non-Con, public humiliation, exhibitionism, cum play, knife play, gun play, fear play. Both of you are legal in this. Read at own risk.

It took Y/n a moment to realise what had just happened, eyes widening slowly as she looked up from Mafioso Byun's final cards and at his smug face. "N- No… No way…" Her friend facepalmed in great stress and fear of all the men surrounding them in Byun's bar. That did not just happen. "How is that possible?" Smashing the cigarette in her hand against the table, Y/n stood up. "There is no way you won this time! I am not just good-- I am GREAT at this! How could you win?! Not when I-..." Y/n trailed off from her own words, not willing to admit that she was cheating. Since the beginning.

The older man shrugged. "Well… maybe you're not that good, Miss. I mean…" Him and his men chuckled at the 4 foreign kids visiting their country for vacation. "You lost 4 games in a row along allllll that you had" taking a drag of his cigar, the man smirked devilishly. "Confidence is good but overconfidence will drown you in the sea of reality, in the wise words of Norain."

The girl was clenching her fists, every fiber of her body loathing him. Y/n hated just how fucking smug he was.

"You bastard!"

Byun chuckled. "Adorable. So you remember all that you put on the table, right?" The female gulped, the recent memories of how she bet her body at last when she had nothing left to gamble with. A laugh left the man when she backed away and tried to run, which resulted in Byun's right hand that was sharper than an eagle, Sehun, to grip her arm before throwing her whole body back and in the Boss' feet. "Tsk. I honestly thought you were an honourable young lady. But the way you tried to run away from your own words?"

"P- Please! We will pay you back, sir!" One of Y/n's friends sobbed, causing the girl to glare at her.

"Shut up! Don't fucking plead a cheating bastard like hi- OW FUCK!" Y/n was cut off when Byun gripped her hair before her brain could decipher it and pulled her face closer to his.

"Calling me a cheater when you were trying to use pathetic little rigged ways while playing in MY casino?" Silence followed for a couple moments, the man's lip chain dangling furiously from how fast he'd moved. "You are more foolish than you seemed, baby doll."  Before the girl could shoot anything back, one of her friends shakily stood up, realising this was no game and the man was pure trouble.

"S- Sir… m- may we leave?" Gasping, Y/n turned to look at him along with their other friends. "We had nothing to do with the game nor do any of us gamble. You can sort your thing with her but we really had nothing to do with the game. Please let us go."

Byun sat up a bit straighter, a firm hold on Y/n's hair still. "That's fair." Nodding at his men, the man spoke. "Leave." He couldn't help but chuckle when that boy gathered the rest of his friends before all of them left without sparing a shocked Y/n another glance. "You really are that irritating to everyone, huh?" The girl was fuming at this point, hating how smug and entertained he looked.

“Fuck you!

A snort left the Mafioso when the small girl dared to spit on his face. Byun fucking Baekhyun's face. "I am afraid you don't realize the intensity of the situation, love." Before he motioned his men to stop in their positions, halting them for beating her up for the disrespectful gesture. Before Y/n could realise what had happened, she gasped under her breath when the man suddenly pressed a sharp knife to her throat, the blade threatening to slice against her soft skin.

"You bet all that you had and then took a loan. When they told you that you couldn't take any more loan you bet your body without thinking of the consequences…" Clicking his tongue, he dragged the knife along the length of her neck before grazing it against her collarbone, making the girl jump when he sliced through one of the strings that held her dress against her breast. "Tsk. Did you even know what that means?" The girl hated how she was made to kneel in front of him as he sat in his seat, feet on either side as one held the knife and other held his cigar.

"I- I will pay y- you back!" The men laughed at her slightly wavering tone.

"Oh, is that so?" Baekhyun raised an eyebrow before nodding. "Of course you will. Of course. That is the only way. However…" Taking the other string that was on her other shoulder over the blade, the man toyed with it. "I shall give you a choice." Taking another drag, he puffed it in her face, causing her to cough. "You can either be good and even redeem yourself on the way for your naive actions or…" Inching their faces closer, Baekhyun spoke just above a whisper. "You die and all your body parts get sold."

Y/n's blood started to run cold as she realised just how fucked she was. Even her friends had abandoned her and now she was in this casino with some man she had clearly underestimated as some local gangster. His blood slightly brushed against her skin, still not cutting open the other string. "So… what's it going to be, huh? Me cutting this little dress off your body or me sliding this blade across your throat?"

"I… I d- don't want to d- die, p- please" her eyes finally wetted with tears, bringing the man great satisfaction as he nodded slowly, taking another drag as he finally cut the string open, the tight dress Y/n was wearing falling down to her waist in an instant, causing her to gasp before protective arms tried to hide her chest but Byun's foot beat them to it, pressing both of them down in her laps by one of his feet.

"No, love. You cannot decide what happens to you any longer. You lost all of those rights when you lost your body to me. Now you're my puppet." Byun fed off the fear in her eyes and across her face. "Now, let's begin the fun, shall we?" The girl shook under him as she realised that she didn't have a choice anymore.

"Stand up." The man ordered. "Stand up and take those clothes and heels off." Before the girl could protest, Sehun spoke up from behind, firmly pushing at her back with his knee.

"Didn't you hear what the boss just said, whore?!"

"Hey now, Sehun-ah… don't treat the pretty girl like that…" Byun looked up at Sehun with upset eyes, words painfully sweet like he wasn't just threatening to murder her in cold blood. "She's too weak to be treated so rough… Dolls like her are delicate and fragile… aren't they?" He looked down at the humiliated girl with teasing eyes, snorting at how she flushed in embarrassment before removing his foot from her arms.

"Get up." His tone was rough again as he leaned back in his seat, tossing the knife on the table before picking his glass of whiskey up, taking a sip. "We don't have all day and the clock's running!" He spoke aloud when the girl tried to plead, not even looking her way but in a far distance, waiting for his orders to be obeyed.

Y/n shivered under the gazes of all the men in the room as she slowly stripped from her dress and heels, cheeks red in embarrassment.

"Come here…" Byun ordered. "Kneel." And as the girl kneeled, the male grabbed his knife again, placing one of his feet under her pussy before clicking his tongue at the bra that she didn't take off, swiftly cutting it open, making it fall against her laps. "Don't." The man warned as the girl went to cover her now exposed chest with her arms, watching her carefully. "Come here."

Y/n's eyes were letting out continuous silent tears as she got closer to the man, feeling her nipples harden from the air as her face burned the hottest it could. She could only bite her lip and stare at the ground in embarrassment. "Get on your knees and undo my belt." Her eyes widened as she looked up at the man that looked almost bored. "What? Did I mumble?" His lips grazed against one of her breasts now, making her instantly mumble a small 'no' before she did as she was told, her fingertips trembling as she followed his instructions until she could see his erect cock bulging against the dark blue boxers he wore.

"Come closer now, rub your face on it, doll. Feel your Master up~" Baekhyun encouraged, fistibg her hair in one of his hands whilst the other one that was in possession of the blade grazed against the side of her neck dangerously close. Y/n bit back a sob as the man guided her face closer to his clothed member, forcing her to rub her face against and all over it, moaning lowly at just how good her warm breaths felt.

"Take it out…" The girl did as she was commanded, her hot tears falling on Baekhyun's skin one by one, only adding to the pleasure. "Come on… take it in your mouth. That's it…" Y/n was in disbelief of her situation but knew there was no way out. Opening her mouth, she took his thick head in her mouth, cringing at the taste as she slowly licked and sucked at it, literally shaking as Baekhyun leaned over, pulling her face down his cock by the hair he was holding, finally cutting the last piece of clothing she had on which was her underwear, exposing the girl to everyone in the room and increasing the tension even more. All of his henchmen were sweaty and their throats were dry. But nobody could do anything no matter how much they desired.

Because she was his toy.

"Keep going…" The Boss whispered, sliding her mouth further on his cock and grunting when she gagged around him, bringing her face up before slamming it down, causing the girl to choke again but he held it tight this time, his cock twitching from how she struggled to breathe but couldn't. "Good girl. Now that is some good behaviour." The man grinned, releasing her just enough to let her breathe before pulling it off completely.

"Lick it off." Baekhyun's voice was cold again as he guided her to his cheek which had her spit on it, tightening his hold on her head even more. Y/n was full on sobbing now after failing to suppress it felt her scalp burnt from where he was holding her, shakily placing her hands on his knees before licking her own spit off, sweat trickling down her back. "Are you sorry?" She felt a gun press against her pussy now, the blade long gone as he calmly stared down at her.

"Y- Yes! Yes! I am!" The girl rushedly spoke, feeling the cold metal of the gun slip in between her folds, rubbing back and forth."P- Please, si- sir!"

"Good." Baekhyun was satisfied from how the girl was trembling in fear, standing up before pulling her up on her feet before pushing her on the table where they had played, placing his gun on her stomach before grabbing her thighs and forcefully pushing into her, moaning when she screamed in pain while crying even harder now. "This will get you thinking, tsk. Who do you even think you are? Brats like you deserve nothing but to be treated like this…" Baekhyun loved how he stretched her walls long and deep, expanding them forcefully before he gave her another powerful thrust.

"So fucking overconfident… And what are you now? A fucking slut that's not even in control of her own body." Grabbing the gun, the man started to give her faster thrusts now, moaning loudly as sweat dripped down his forehead, hips snapping mercilessly whilst he pressed the gun to one of her breasts, rubbing the tip against her nipple. "I wonder what will happen if I shoot it… will it pop off? Deflate?"

Y/n's eyes widened as she hysterically cried, her heart thumping as she slid up and down the table, shaking her head furiously whilst her hands rested lifelessly at her sides, her whole body covered in sweat. "P- PLEASE! PLEASE! N- NO! NO! DON'T S- SHOOT ME, S- SIR! PLEASE!" She could only beg helplessly as the man got off to her fear, glaring down at her as he fucked her intensely, going balls deep as he twitched again, feeling himself closer to his orgasm.

"But you've been so fucking disrespectful today. Do you even know who I am, you little slut? How dare you?" Before he pushed the gun in her mouth, forcing her to taste herself as the fear of him suddenly deciding to pull the trigger invaded her senses.

"I- I… s- showwy-" was she could pathetically let out through the gun as he grazed it against the soft end of her throat, ramming into her harder and harder before he was emptying his load into her, pulling out and seeing his cum gush out of her along the blood of her purity, forming a pink mixture. Gathering some of the white liquid off his cock, the man rubbed it against her lips before kissing her as he tucked his cock back in followed by the gun and his blade, pulling her off the table by her hair, spitting in her face before slapping her for all the former disrespect, throwing her in his feet.

Baekhyun smirked, getting even more satisfied as he realised that he was her first time. The trip she was on was in the celebration of her 18th birthday after all. Whilst the mafia was turning 30 this year. "Maybe I won't send you to one of my brothels after all."

.

[adarlingmess]

Ugnayan

Summary:

Filipino word, noun: connection between persons, groups, countries, etc.

A collection of works detailing a manananggal clan’s relations with the Treses, and their allies.

II: Bad Habits

Summary: After disrupting one of House of Arko’s operations, one of the Kambal meets up with their informant.

Words: 4540

Characters: Basilio, Crispin, Sabina (OC), Alexandra Trese (mentioned only), Ammie (mentioned only), Reyna Manananggal (mentioned only), Dominic Villaceran (mentioned only), Mama Grande (mentioned only)

Relationships: Basilio/Original Female Character

Language: English, with a few Filipino words and phrases sprinkled in.

Rating: 16+

Warnings: Strong language, violence, mentions of abortion, references to human trafficking + sexual trafficking, sexual themes

Author’s Notes:

I am: back on my bullshit again

People were looking for a part 2 so have more Basilio x OC stuff. Spoiler warning for Verdugo: Takutan because this story heavily references its lore and events! The comics are known to be darker in tone, and so is this fic, so heed the warnings above. No Taglish version this time, Darling niyo pagod na 😩

This was supposed to be a simple job.

Get in, rough up House of Arko’s operation while Bossing is paying them a visit in their mansion, get out, and watch as Bossing confronts them about it at the next social gathering they’ll host.

But nothing was ever simple about the aswang, right?

Now there’s a huge one trying to eat Basilio alive.

“Damn it, Basilio. Your recklessness is a bad habit that’ll bite us in the ass later!” his older brother berates him.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever! Now might be the right time to call for backup kuya,” he strains, attempting to pull the  magubat’s jaw apart with his superhuman strength. His fingers slip from the drool and it almost bites his hands off.

Crispin’s busy with a horde of mailap, taking turns in taking pot shots from him in the shadows. “We should’ve taken a page from Carlos’ book and brought palm fronds. Who should we call?”

“What about Maliksi?” Basilio suggests.

“What’s one tikbalang to all these aswangs? We need something bigger, maybe a higante to take on that magubat!”

“Gago, a higante can’t get here as fast as a tikbalang!” Basilio snaps.

“Mas gago ka! What about that playmate of ours from when we were kids, y’know, the one that tipped Bossing off about this whole trafficking operation anyway? Think she can fly her way here?” Crispin growls, shooting down a mailap who was foolish enough to ambush the more cautious twin from above.

Ah, yes. Sabina.

Boyish, intimidating, hard to figure out- but still hot enough to flirt with, despite being aswang; that’s how Basilio would describe her. This Sab was a far cry from the Sabina Marie he once knew years ago, the one who used to wear an all-girl Catholic school uniform, shyly shared her snacks and books with him, and kissed him farewell when her mama told her she’ll not be coming with her to meetings with the lakan anymore.

A few days after they caught up with each other, she turned up at the Diabolical not too long ago with a flash drive for Alex’s eyes only. She didn’t even breathe a word to him, much less look at his direction, but Basilio could only surmise that it’s his fault.

“Sabina? Well, manananggals who follow the queen can shoot. It’s- ungh- worth the shot!” Basilio answers back, straining as he gets swatted to the side with one gigantic claw. “You make the call, my hands are full!”

“Give me your phone, I don’t have her Facespace.”

Basilio looks down from several feet, and gives his brother a sheepish smile. “Uhhh, okay, but she’s been seenzoning me.”

From behind his mask, Crispin frowns. “What did you do?”

“She might’ve seen me tagged in Ammie’s story when I was supposed to watch her gig. I got there when her set was ending, and she was pissed.”

Grumbling, Crispin takes his frustrations off on a mabangis charging towards him, a flurry of bullets raining upon its body. “What did Bossing say about getting personal with informants?”

“What? It’s Sab. She’s-”

“An aswang who might have an ulterior motive in helping us. Tangina Basilio, think with your head sometimes! The one between your shoulders!”

Distracted, Basilio failed to stop the jaws of the magubat from closing in on him. As quickly as his reflexes allow, he tosses his brother his phone.

“Just call already! Tell her it’s an emergency.”

The older Kambal flies up and extends his free hand to catch it. Crispin launches Basilio’s Facespace app and begins to search for their informant. He found her under the name Sab Evasco. Crispin pretended not to see the string of messages Basilio left for her, all left on read.

Her phone rings. One time. Two times. Three times. Crispin dials again. Twice. Thrice.

Someone picks up. He puts the call on the loudspeaker.

There’s someone strumming a guitar in the background, accompanied by a drumset’s cymbals. They come to a halt and Crispin hears a frustrated woman’s voice from the other end of the line.

“Ulol gago, fuck you Basilio, you can tell me if you’d rather go on Starbreaks coffee dates with a wind girl than watch me play.  I’m a grown woman, I can handle a simple ‘no’. I’m not in the mood for your games! Now fuck off, I don’t want to hear from you. I have a gig to practice for.”

Basilio cringes as he listens to Sabina’s tirade. Crispin guns a charging mabangis down, and his mask dematerializes for a brief moment, just enough for him to mouth to his brother “Gago ka talaga.”

“Sabina, it’s Crispin. We could use some backup here. We’re being swarmed by aswang.”

The sound of a guitar being unceremoniously dropped and the mad shuffle to catch it can be heard from Sabina’s line, followed by quick footsteps. Sabina talks again, calmer this time. “What? Couldn’t Basilio get his own ass on the phone and tell me himself?”

With an exasperated expression, Crispin turns on the camera, and points the phone at Basilio, who’s caught between the magubat’s jaws. “He said you were ignoring him, and he can’t get on the phone right now, as you can see.”

The Kambal heard her fumbling with more equipment, which sounded like a guitar case being zipped up and carried. A brief argument with her bandmates follows, then Sabina talks again.

“I’ll be there. Stay on the line.”

Now they wait.

As much as Crispin wanted to help his little brother, his hands were full with the wave after wave of aswang coming after them. They’re relentless. This is their food supply the Kambal are cutting off, after all.

“Any luck with Sab?” Basilio asks, attempting to shoot the roof of the mabangis’ mouth.

The bullets barely penetrate the thick membrane. He’ll need to transform the Armas Infinitum into a more powerful weapon to lobotomize the gigantic aswang, but seeing how he’s separated from his twin, it’s impossible at the moment.

“She said she’s on the way. She’s still on the phone. Here!”

Crispin throws the phone back to Basilio, who catches it with one hand, while his other arm continues to struggle with the magubat trying to swallow him whole. He tucks it in his breast pocket, and he jumps near the row of the magubat’s front teeth, prying it open with both arms.

Through the aswangs’ growls, Basilio could faintly hear a woman cursing and the jingling of keys from the other side of the line.

“Hey Sab! It’s Basilio. Sorry again about missing your gig.”

“Shut up and hang tight. If I didn’t care for you at all...” Sabina snaps. Basilio could barely make out the words Sabina was saying due to the wind and sound of traffic. “I’m on my way.”

“Ngh, can’t you come any sooner? I heard that aswang intestines are nasty.” Basilio pauses, realizing his mistake. “No offense.”

“I said zip it. Isn’t it enough that I went out of hiding and agreed to be Trese’s informant? Now I have to be your backup too?”

“Working with Bossing has its risks. We made that clear, princess.”

“Don’t call me that.”

There’s more turbulence and wind from Sabina’s line. If Basilio guessed, she’s now flying to the scene. The Kambal’s struggle with the aswang continued until they heard their informant’s voice through the speakers again.

“Big bad war demigods can’t handle a single fucking magubat?” Sabina deadpans, the turbulence and noise no longer accompanying her voice. “Open the fucker’s mouth wide. Make sure he’s facing east.”

“Kuya! She’s in the area, help me pry the jaws open!” the younger Kambal shouts to his older brother, who dodges a leaping mailap and quickly flies up to his aid.

“What’s the plan?” Crispin asks, and Basilio shrugs.

“I don’t know, she just asked me to do it!”

Before Crispin could question Basilio, a shot rings throughout the building, and the magubat collapses. The Kambal let go of the heavy jaws and flew away, watching the near-twenty foot aswang crush a few of its regular-sized kind. Upon closer inspection, a bullet has torn its way through the roof of its mouth. It’s a clean shot. The magubat isn’t regenerating, much to the Kambal’s surprise.

It’s a pleasant surprise, nonetheless.

“That’s for trying to eat my brother,” Crispin spits, kicking the dead aswang’s head.

Soon, more of the aswang started dropping like flies, too. Razed by bullets from an unknown assailant, the House of Arko aswangs started to panic.

“Wait a minute, I know manananggals who follow the queen can shoot, but Sabina is a sniper? Do you know about this, Bas?” Crispin exclaims, tearing his eyes away from the dead magubat to face yet another wave of mabangis.

“No! Damn, she’s using special bullets too. Where’d she get those?” Basilio mutters. A mailap attempts an ambush attack, and before he could react, Basilio watches it get shot mid-air as it attempts to jump him.

“You’re mine,” Sabina hisses, her voice crackling through Basilio’s phone speaker, smooth through the static.

Her emphasis on the word “mine” made goosebumps ripple through Basilio’s arm.

“Hot. Could you say that again?”

What he got instead was a groan. “Fuck, don’t distract me Basilio. I’m not here for fun.”

“You seem to be having fun shooting House of Arko’s minions though.”

“Fair. You two better look for the hostages. I have a bone to pick with this lot.”

The Kambal looks at each other, and nods. Glass shatters as they fly out the building’s windows, to the upper floors. After taking care of the guards, they saw them. Men and women in cages, all naked, and herded like livestock. 

“Please, help us,” one of them whimpers, crawling to the front of the cage and grabbing Crispin by the arm. She’s dirty, and her belly is swollen. Basilio turned on the lights and they saw it clear as day: most of these women are pregnant. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on.

House of Arko farms their food, breeding humans like livestock, and harvesting fetuses from them.

Sirens are blaring outside, both from police cars and ambulances, waiting for the hostages to be rescued.

All is well, or so they thought.

“Fuck!”

The cry came from their informant’s line.

“Everything alright?” Basilio asks her after fishing his phone out of his breast pocket.

“There are a few of them who found my vantage point. They’re heading towards my position.”

“Get out of there already, the hostages are secure.”

“They saw me. I can’t let them report back to Mama Grande and her sons that a manananggal is helping you. Suspicion would fall on my clan.”

Crispin nudges his younger brother. “I’ll handle the hostages and wait for Bossing. You make sure our informant’s alright.”

“Way ahead of you kuya,” Basilio replies, taking his guns out and flying out the window.

Under the pale moonlight and the city’s lights, Basilio spots a group of aswang scaling a dilapidated building east of him. On the rooftop, he sees it. Wings black as night, flattened against the concrete. Sabina lies prone and is aiming her scoped hunting rifle downwards, picking off the advancing horde one by one.

“Time to play.” The demigod rushes in and makes bullets rain on the hostiles.

He takes out a mabangis approaching their sniper from her blind spot. Those who didn’t die from being shot fell to their death, regeneration halted either by his or Sabina’s doing.

Basilio descends on the rooftop, and he walks his way towards the manananggal. His mask dematerialized, and the wind tousled his long hair. Just to be safe, he kept a pistol in one hand.

Across him, Sabina takes out her wireless earbuds and puts them away. Then, she slings her rifle on her shoulder, safety on. With her wings, she crawled towards his direction, like how a bat would move. Then, uses her wings’ sharp claws to plant herself on the concrete, a feat regular bats couldn’t do.

“Thanks for the help, Sab. About that gig…”

Before any more words could come out of his mouth, Sabina holds up her forefinger and presses it against his lips. “Shh. No more apologizing about the missed gig. Just make up for it. You owe me.”

Basilio nods, smiling at her. He watches as Sabina fishes out a box of cigarettes and a lighter from her vest. She’s wearing a black, long-sleeved polo shirt underneath it, and its sleeves are rolled up. Her shirt was unbuttoned just enough for him to catch a glimpse of lace peeking through. For all her boyish, edgy posturing, her choice of underclothes is girlier than what Basilio expected.

It almost makes him want to unwrap her like a Christmas present, but he’ll keep that thought to himself.

“Nice outfit. You were rehearsing in that?”

“We had a presentation for a class. No time to get changed. Now there’s a hole in the back, so I might as well wear this more often on future operations,” Sabina replies, placing a stick of Marlborough Reds between her lips.

“I’m in the mood for a smoke and maybe a chat,” she continues. “Join me?”

Basilio nods.

“How did you know about House of Arko’s human trafficking thing, anway?”

“Believe it or not, it was a hunch,” Sabina explains, black fingernails scratching the sparkwheel several times. “Ugh, fucking lighter dying on me again. I just had it refilled… must be the wind,” she growls.

Basilio couldn’t help but chuckle at her frustration. “A hunch?”

“Hmm… maybe hunch isn’t the right word. It’s an educated guess. Mama Grande loved serving boiled fetuses to her house guests, correct?”

Basilio nods, waiting for Sabina to continue her explanation.

“I suppose that it’s my place to judge if their mothers didn’t want to raise them… I’m a manananggal, for fuck’s sake. But there’s one red flag House of Arko failed to hide. From what I can tell, those fetuses are around five to eight months old.”

Sabina’s lighter finally lit up, and with a triumphant laugh, she lit her cigarette. Then, she carries on with her explanation.

“Most abortions happen during the first three months of pregnancy. It’s rare to see expecting parents get rid of them that late.”

“So? What does that have to do with the whole thing?”

“House of Arko serving older fetuses could mean one of two things: either all, and I mean all of the abortions they performed are from those who are truly in need of one that late, or they’re getting them from another source, possibly an illicit one. They don’t have the most benevolent reputation, so my intuition tells me it was the latter. So, I paid the place a visit and recorded what I could. I guess I should be thankful that your bossing found that blurry video trustworthy enough,” Sabina concluded, watching as the victims were clothed and herded into ambulances.

Dumbfounded, Basilio scratches his head. “Wow. Glad you’re on our side. How did you know that three month thing anyway?”

“Research and personal accounts.” Sabina’s response is clipped. Cold. Abrupt. It only raised more questions than answers.

“Personal accounts? You’ve met people who got them?”

There’s a flash of regret in Sabina’s eyes; regret that she opened her mouth and let him know more than needed. She cuts him off. “I can’t put my informants’ identities in jeopardy either now, can I?”

Per his older twin’s advice, Basilio’s finally using the head between his shoulders. “No offense, but you’re a manananggal. Y’know, known for eating babies? Hearing that from you is suspicious.”

“Yes, I am,” Sabina says through gritted teeth, glaring at him. “I can assure you, I’m following the accords and I’m not exploiting loopholes like what House of Arko is doing. I’ll reveal everything in due time.”

“Alright, keep your secrets. For now.”

A tense silence has befallen them.

“So- '' the manananggal blows a cloud of smoke away from Basilio, “-is this going to be a regular thing? Because if it is, I might finally quit smoking. Nicotine makes my hands shaky. Can’t risk accidentally shooting your ass.” She pauses, looking at him in jest. “ I’d rather do that intentionally.”

“You’re breaking my heart, Sabina Marie,” Basilio retorts, clutching his chest in mock pain.

They share a laugh over it, the mood lightening up.

Basilio looks in the distance, taking in the view of the cityscape. “Maybe you should quit. Singers shouldn’t be smoking in the first place.”

“The tar helps me belt out raspy screams, but yeah, you’re right,” Sabina chuckles.

“So, when is this next gig?”

“Next week. In Ilocos Norte. All the way up in House of Arko’s ancestral home.”

“Should I take that info to Bossing?”

“Yep. It’s open to the supernatural public anyway, so it's not like I’m giving you top secret info. Even the wind tribe is invited, despite their bad blood with my clan. Hopefully things won’t get physical. Most of my sisters are still bitter over how they blew us away when my mom- I mean, Inang Reyna decided to side against the Treses.”

So that explains some things.

“I dunno, maybe I should bring Ammie so I can watch the two of you in a catfight.”

Sabina elbows him in the chest, hard.

“Not funny at all, Basilio. I don’t even know her personally! It’s you I was pissed at.”

Now he grabs his chest in genuine pain as he croaks out an apology. “Sorry.”

“Whatever. Bring whoever the hell you want, just keep your distance from me when you decide to go. Even my father’s going to be there. I need to be on my best behavior.”

The demigod turns to their aswang informant, interest piqued. She’s divulging a lot of information. Perhaps he can sway her to spill more secrets.

“Didn’t know that the Reyna Manananggal had a king.”

“Oh, no. She’s not the type to share her power with a man.” Sabina pauses to take another hit of her cigarette. “I meant my biological father. Villaceran.”

Now that was unexpected.

“You drop bombshell after bombshell whenever we meet. Tomas Dominic Villaceran’s your old man?”

“Look at me. I’m almost the splitting image of the guy. If there’s one thing I’m grateful for, it’s inheriting his good looks.”

Basilio grins. “Can’t deny that. Most of the manananggal kuya Crispin and I encountered look...”

“Hideous, I know,” Sabina says outright. “You still haven’t seen that side of me, so don’t be too quick to judge my sisters.”

Basilio treads carefully, knowing that he might be prying on a sensitive subject. “So, about Villaceran…”

“I’d rather not talk about him. Our relationship is… strained.”

Giving her a sympathetic, understanding look, Basilio nods. “Right. Never mind.”

Another interval of silence passes between them. This time, it’s a little somber.

“So, does this party have a dress code?”

“Yeah. Filipiniana. Wear a barong. It’s one of those pretentious events that attempts to make House of Arko more appealing to the masses or whatever. Manipulative assholes.”

“You can just refuse to go, Sab.”

“I could, but being Trese’s mole among the aswang means I have to attend clan activities to supply more information. That also means attending every single party those Arko fucks throw.”

“You really hate House of Arko, huh?”

Looking towards his direction to meet his gaze, Sabina’s eyes are filled with a sea of emotions. Hatred, indignation, and something Basilio couldn’t quite place.

“Why wouldn’t I? Mama Grande raised boys who can’t take no for an answer. The Arko brothers have no respect for us manananggal. As if we weren’t fetishized enough in Manong Karma’s stupid aswang dating book...”

Sabina clears her throat and calms herself down. Bad blood between aswang clans could mean war. Basilio knows he should take that to the boss. His gears are turning tonight. He asks Sabina questions that could risk her support.

“Is that why you agreed to be an informant? You wanna bring House of Arko down? Then what, your clan will fill the space they’ll leave?”

“What? No, I have no desire for power, not like how Mama Grande or my own mother does anyway. My personal gripes with them aside, the House of Arko wants to ‘unite the aswang under one banner’ with no respect to the other clans’ autonomy and customs.”

“So you wanna protect your clan?”

“That’s one of the reasons, yes. Mama Grande’s been trying to play kumare with mom- I mean Inang Reyna-” This is the second time Sabina slipped and called her mom. She clears her throat and composes herself. “And I need to stop that. Inang Reyna already made the mistake of going against the Accords once. Allying with the House of Arko will ruin us further.”

Basilio leans in closer. “And what are your other reasons?”

Sabina looks at him for a few, quiet seconds, and looks away. “I’ll reveal them-”

“In due time. Yeah, yeah, I can take that as an answer. So, making you sing in that event is a result of them being magkumare?”

A defeated laugh bubbles from Sabina’s chest. “You got it.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t invite sirena to sing.”

Sabina rolls her eyes and tosses the butt of her expended cigarette on the concrete. Basilio took it upon himself to crush the embers under his heel, seeing how her lower half is hidden someplace else.

“Oh please, this is House of Arko we’re talking about, Bas. They believe aswang are superior. Letting them shine would take away the spotlight from the aswang. Mama Grande asked for me from Inang Reyna so they can gloat that even aswang can make better singers than the famed sirena. Ugh, I doubt my singing style even matches the performance they want from me.”

“Oh yeah? What kind of performance are they going for?” he asks her.

“Now that’s another secret. You have to show up to find out,” she hums in response.

Turning away from him, Sabina checks how many sticks are left in the box. Two. She takes one and lights it up.

“Screw it, I’m going cold turkey. I guess this will be my final box. Maybe for tonight. Maybe forever.”

“Then maybe you should stop with the stick you’re smoking and throw the last one away,” Basilio suggests.

“Are you mad? That’s a waste of money!”

“Still counting your blessings even with your mama’s wealth huh?”

“Old habits die hard.”

Sabina blows smoke away from Basilio’s direction. The wind made it waft to his face anyway, and she mumbles a quick apology. He shrugs it off. Not like the adverse effects of secondhand smoke affected him anyway. Hank smoked and was polite enough to turn away too, but Basilio can still smell it. He didn’t mind it. Still, Hank had told him and Crispin that it was a tough habit to break, so he never touched a cigarette.

Not until now.

Basilio takes the box from Sabina and picks up the last stick with his lips. Then, he inches closer to her.

Ironically, in an attempt to help an old friend quit her smoking habit, Basilio engages in it himself.

Little did he know, a new bad habit was forming between him and the little lady before him.

“I’ll make sure it won’t go to waste then. Light me.”

Sabina raises an eyebrow. “Just don’t start at all. Give it back.”

“One smoke isn’t going to get me hooked, princess.”

Brows knitted together, Sabina chastises him. “Take it from me, bad habits start with just one little taste, Bas.”

“One little taste never hurts anyone...”

“One little taste could leave you wanting for more.”

Basilio can feel himself getting hot under the collar. He’d never thought an aswang of all creatures could make him feel all bothered, yet there he was, getting turned on by her choice of words.

“Princess, are we still talking about cigarettes, or something else?”

Hearing his question, Sabina exhales sharply through her nose, cheeks dusted pink. “Maybe both. Whatever. Come here.”

Black fingernails scratched at the sparkwheel. Sparks were flying, but there was no flame. The cigarette remained unlit.

“Well, it looks like fate isn’t letting you smoke, so better just give me the damn cigarette back, Basilio.”

With a sly look, Basilio closes in on her, and presses the end of his cigarette to the embers at the end of hers, linking them together.

To his surprise, Sabina is neither backing away nor babbling defensively like she usually does whenever he gets close. Instead, she presses her chest to his, a challenging look in her half-lidded eyes. She wasn’t wearing her glasses like usual, giving Basilio an unobstructed view of her heated gaze. Was it bloodlust or desire? Either way, it got his blood pumping.

“You’re chattier than usual tonight,” Basilio comments. “Bolder too. I like that.”

In the form she’s in now, Sabina’s eyes glowed an eerie white, and aside from the wings sprouting from her back, little horns sprouted from her scalp, the root concealed by her crown of short, wavy hair. Basilio didn’t pay mind to her dangling guts, instead, his eyes were transfixed on that cute little lace bra again.

Through the layers of cloth between them, he can feel her heart beating. Basilio faintly remembers the taste of human and sigbin hearts.

Now, what does aswang heart taste like?

A dark part of his psyche- perhaps from being Datu Talagbusao’s son- wanted to tear it out of her chest and eat it to find out.

Basilio felt the urge to taste all the battles she fought through her blood, and possess her heart in a way no other person can.

The memory of seeing his father tasting his mother’s blood inserts itself in the present, and the fear of turning into the monster he was is enough for him to shake that thought away.

Basilio tries to focus on something else.

His eyes wander to Sabina’s mouth. He might’ve imagined something else between her dark lips, in place of the cigarette. Something bigger.

Something of his.

Sabina’s been pliable tonight. Perhaps he’ll push his luck with her one last time.

“So, any plans tonight, dear princess?”

“Unless you intend to treat me like one, don’t call me that.”

“I’m done with work, so if you want me to make good on that and make up for my mistake…”

Giggling, Sabina flies a few feet away from him. The black wings on her back are translucent against the pale moonlight. They almost looked like a dark shade of red.

“Go tell your brother about the information I gave you for now, then meet up with me afterwards. I hid my lower half in an alleyway behind that motel,” she tells him, pointing to the building’s direction.

“If you’re lucky, you’ll get to rearrange my guts. Literally and figuratively.” Sabina continues, a naughty smirk blooming on her lips.

Taken aback by the pun, Basilio laughs. “I didn’t think you were capable of dirty jokes.”

“You should know by now that I’m full of secrets and surprises.”

Grinning darkly, Basilio finishes the rest of his cigarette as he watches her fly away.

“And I’ll uncover them all, dear princess.”

Translations:

ulol - crazy; Filipino profanity

gago/gaga - foolish or stupid; Filipino profanity

tangina - contraction of putang ina, lit. whore mother. Used as an expression to express irritation, anger, or astonishment

Inang Reyna - lit. Queen Mother.

mare/kumare - derived from the Spanish word madre/comadre; kumare a reciprocal appellation for the godmother or for the child's mother. In a more modern and colloquial context, it’s used to refer to a female friend. Magkumare means women who are friends with each other.

Filipiniana - Philippine related book and non-book material

barong - also known as Barong Tagalog. An embroidered long-sleeved formal shirt for men and a national dress of the Philippines.