#my writing\

[himbosandhardwear]

Eddie's mid-speech, absently pulling his hair up off his sweaty neck to put up, when he sees Steve check out of the conversation, eyes drifting over his progress.

"What's up? You never seen a dude with a ponytail before?"

"Huh? No. I mean, yeah, maybe, but no, it's just..."

He gets up off his chair and, without a by-your-leave, takes Eddie's hair back down and starts carding his fingers through it. Eddie, seeing Jesus, Mary, and Joseph in that moment, says not a fucking word, just lets him do his thing.

"Huh."

"Hmm?" He manages despite the body-morphing, nerve-wracking, world-ending thing that's happening.

"I just never noticed... You've got real curls happening back here." He tugs on a strand, killing Eddie stone dead. "Not the Head & Shoulders and hot water fried stuff on top, like real, actual curls."

"Hey." He tries to drum up the right amount of offense but it's hard when his brain fled the scene thirty seconds earlier.

"Wonder if I could revive any of this," he mumbles to himself as he continues to catalog Eddie's hair situation. He's got the top half piled atop his head so he can study the 'good stuff' underneath at his leisure.

This might be the best day of Eddie's young life. Honestly, if he'd known Steve was interested in it this much, he would've pulled his hair half up years ago, showed off a little.

"Can I do a V05 hot oil treatment on you?"

"Baby, you can do whatever you want to me."

"What?"

"What?"

[heavensghost]

There were times I was kind when I should have been cruel and times I was cruel when I should have been kind.

[soft-beams]

okay, so i had camgirl!reader x vi in my mind so i decided to write a little something...i couldn't resist!!

camgirl!reader x vi

"Hey, can you loan me like five dollars?" Jinx asks, hand already held out to receive what she's asked for. Vi stares at it with a raised brow before pushing it away.

"No," she replies, rolling her eyes when Jinx gasps in feigned shock.

"No?" she questions with enough dramatics to win an Oscar. "To your own sister? Your own flesh and blood?"

"Yeah," Vi says, unaffected by the being that is Jinx. "I don't have the money to spare today. If you really need it, why not ask Ekko?"

Jinx pouts. "Because he's gonna give it to me and I like to fight for it," she says. "Besides, you never not give me money. Yeah, you'll bitch about it, but you're usually reaching into your wallet while doing that." She reaches out to flick Vi's forehead, easily dodging when Vi swats her hand away. "So what gives?"

"It's nothing," Vi stresses; expect it isn't nothing.

It's actually a lot of something.

Vi isn't one to shy away from admitting that she's broke.

If she is, she'll tell you because why hide the struggle that 99.99% of people go through every day?

No, she isn't shy about that.

However, she is shy about admitting why she's broke because it'll make her sound stupid and borderline obsessive.

Which she is, but that's something she'd like to keep to herself until the end of the time.

That the reason she's broke is because of a camgirl she discovered over a month ago and has her gripped by her metaphorical balls.

But it's not her fault that you're so pretty with your cute laugh, gorgeous smile and moans that resemble siren calls. Or that every time she sees you pleasure yourself, she loses a few more brain cells and oh no, her wallet's open again.

It's also not her fault that she feels this need to look after you and to give you everything you desire. Whether it be from your Amazon wishlist or some extra cash because you said, in passing, that you felt like ordering take-out for dinner. It makes her feel as if she's there for you, that she's providing for you.

Even if it's in some fucked up parasocial way.

So.

"I have bills to pay," Vi settles on, ignoring the suspicious look Jinx gives her. "Not all of us can live with our boyfriends rent and bill free."

"He insists I don't pay!" Jinx argues. "Every time I try to suggest it, he tells me not to worry about it." She pauses. "He also buys me gifts and stuff...is Ekko my sugar daddy?"

Vi nearly chokes as Jinx continues rambling about how Ekko could have turned her into a sugar baby.

But that's fine.

Better that than her younger sister discovering that she's spending her cost of living on a pretty girl on the internet.

Jinx would never let her live it down.

[azaazvertigo]

Began writing a story vaguely inspired by this prompt! The first chapter is up but more will be sure to follow. Just thought I'd drop this here for now ^^

You run a Bakery, just a normal bakery, the only problem is that your customers at midnight to 6AM are mythical creatures who pay with gemstones and ancient gold and silver coins

[liketolaugh-writes]

Prompt: Prison Break

Walker wouldn't have expected it, but one of the worst parts of being imprisoned by the GIW was watching Phantom suffer through the descending stages of violent obsession failure.

All of them were feeling it, obviously, but for most of them it was a slow decline - the pull of longing, developing over days and weeks into a sharp ache. Ember, ignored and silenced, was lashing out, kicking the glass walls and screaming for attention, even when it hurt. Johnny and Kitty, kept out of each other's sight, pressed against the walls closest together. Walker's whole body throbbed with frustration and self-loathing, needing to return to his territory and drag everyone back with him, away from this place of torture.

But Phantom, not three years dead and with an obsession that demanded that he keep everyone completely unharmed, had declined rapidly. Sure, for the first week or so, he'd been preoccupied with troubles of his own, strapped constantly to a table with hands digging through his insides. But then they'd started to spread out their attention.

At first, Phantom didn't seem to realize what was happening. He cried out in anguish and fear, trying to break open his cell and being punished for it, collapsing under the shock collar's control. Walker could almost see when he figured it out, when he started to clutch at his chest, and scribble constellations onto the walls and floor in his dripping ectoplasm with hands that trembled, trying to ease the pain in his core.

Then he started to curl up and choke on his tears, shuddering in pain whenever screams echoed down the hall. Finally, in between his own turns on the table, he started to shove his hand into his open chest, clutching his burning core directly, moans of pain rising into yells in nearly perfect unison with whoever else was the victim this time.

(Sidney had declined in nearly perfectly unison with Phantom, which a part of Walker hoped the punk hadn't noticed.)

If Phantom wasn't a halfa, he probably would've shattered into dust by now. It probably would've been a mercy.

When the yelling started, Walker almost didn't notice. Phantom, delirious with pain, for sure didn't. But before long, most of the rest of them had stirred to alertness, dragging themselves closer to the glass to peer down the hall. A troop of GIW stormed down the hall without glancing at any of them, and an alarm started going off. Phantom whined and rolled over, his hand buried in his autopsy wound while he shivered. (The scientists had tried stitching it closed, but Phantom just clawed it blindly open.)

"What's happening?" the Lunch Lady croaked. (Youngblood and Phantom were starving, and it was doing her no favors.)

"Prison break," Walker rasped. He recognized the signs. "Someone's here." He'd never imagined that it would be a relief.

[ladykailitha]

Photographer Steve and Model Eddie

Eddie is a famous model known for his temper tantrums and being aloof. No photographer has been able to catch any other side of him but bitchy and distant.

He has final say on everything, clothes, makeup and even the pictures they’re allowed to use. Photographers hate him. They actually draw straws or play roshambo for the dubious pleasure of photographing him.

That all changes when former war photographer Steve Harrington comes into the mix. He has his own set of rules. Max Mayfield is his makeup artist, Robin Buckley on hair, and Elinor Hopper as his fashion designer. He won’t use anyone else.

When a famous makeup brand decides to come out with a metal line, Eddie is the first to jump on board. And then he hears who the photographer is and throws a fit. But the makeup brand won’t budge. Either Eddie sucks it up or they go with someone else. Like Billy Hargrove.

That shuts Eddie up fast. The dude claims he’s “metal” but he’s punk and the very reason people confuse the two.

So he does his bitchy best to scare Steve off. He shows up an hour late in a raggedy band shirt, sweats, and flip-flops with an almost finished latte.

But Steve is unfazed. He knew Eddie would show up late so he doesn’t even start setting up until Eddie gets there.

Eddie pouts.

Then he notices that the only one there is Steve. There is no makeup artist, stylist, or hair stylist there. The clothes are though, which is weird.

Steve introduces himself and tells him that he likes to make sure his models are comfortable first before they even start getting ready. Especially with the fact that make brand wanted a naked shoot as part of it. That would be put in all the 18+ magazines.

Eddie is blinking at him in confusion. No one had asked about his comfort before and it stuns him for a moment. And he changes tactics. If being a brat won’t make this guy leave, maybe heavy flirting will and turns the charm up to eleven.

Steve is charmed, but he remains professional as he shows Eddie his ideas for the photo shoot and fuck, Eddie can’t help but like the idea. Starting the shoot off in white, fully clothed, and then the less clothes Eddie wears the darker the clothes get until the outfit right before the nude stuff is a black thong with a black, satin robe flowing over top.

Then the nudes would be photographed on red satin sheets, highlighting the makeup.

Eddie keeps dialing up the charm especially with Steve’s ladies as Eddie called them, but about half way through, he keeps the charm up because he actually likes them. Especially Steve.

Then it’s time to take the nude shots and Steve is on the bed with him taking close-ups and intimate shots that no one had dared take before.

Then the ad comes out and everyone is blown away. Not just of the makeup, but of how Steve photographed him. Like a lover taking personal shots for just the two them.

Suddenly Eddie, who was already a high class model, gets shot up to supermodel status. Wins model of the year and even several fashion awards for the shoot.

Then all those photographers who hated doing his shoots are instantly clamoring at his door for a chance to photograph him. But he refuses. He’ll only work with Steve and his team.

Then over the course of many shoots, they fall in love and everyone can see their relationship progress through the pictures Steve takes.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hiii! Could you please write some hurt comfort hero and villain? Where it has a “who did this to you” vibes! Thanks! No pressure if you don’t want to!

"You look..." The villain's gaze travelled slowly up the hero, taking in the hard lines of them, the uncanny iciness that had replaced a once warm, familiar face. "Different."

"And you look like hell. Let's get you out of here."

Despite the fact that the hero had just blown the villain's chains to smithereens, the villain didn't move. They leaned heavily against the cold concrete wall of their cell, still staring.

The hero's fingers flexed agitated at their sides.

"I can - if you're hurt, I can help you stand. I don't - you're safe now."

It was like an act they didn't know how to play any more. The script was the same, but the tongue behind the words was a sharper thing. A whittled thing. Made hard and venomous with desperation. Like the world had taken an axe to everything that made the hero them and started hacking.

"Who did this to you?" the villain demanded.

"What?"

"You're all..." Their head lolled, as they tried to tilt it customarily to one side. Their broken fingers hurt too much to wiggle them effectively in the hero's direction, but they did their best. "Not you. All..."

"They hurt you," the hero said. Flat. Deadly.

The villain wet their cracked, swollen lips. Their voice came out raspy. "I heard screaming."

"Yeah." Something dark and protective simmered in the hero's eyes. It looked awfully a lot like 'they deserved it'. Like how the villain's eyes used to look, through a mirror darkly, until the pain scorched through everything cold and steely inside them.

"You killed people. You killed...you came for me."

"We need to go," the hero said, through gritted teeth. "We need to get you out of here. Come on." The hero ducked down, only to falter when their gruff tug immediately made the villain's whole world go fuzzy with hurting. The touch turned gentle as the villain flinched. The hero's hands floundered, like they no longer knew the language of caring, but still remembered that they wanted to try.

A stupid prickle of tears stung the villain's eyes.

"Who did this to you? Who-"

"-Please," the hero said. "Put your arms around me. You need to work with me here. Please."

The villain wrapped their aching arms around the hero's shoulders. The hero lifted them up, holding them oh so carefully. Being upright was still enough to make the villain's vision pop and then blacken.

When they regained consciousness, they were walking through a slaughter house. Blood everywhere. As if a hurricane given teeth and claws had ripped through the building.

"Did I do this?" the villain asked.

"No, love."

But that wasn't quite right.

"No, I mean - I was gone," the villain said. Their head felt so fuzzy with everything they had been given, but the sharp edges of the hero were so clear, if only they could find the words to paint the picture half as well, let the knowledge swirling inside them settle. "You were on your own. How long have you been trying to rescue me?"

"It's going to be alright, okay? I've got you. You're alright."

"Are you?"

"I'm not the one who's been tortured!" It came out a snap, and maybe the villain should have flinched after an eternity of raised voices and raised weapons, but they didn't.

"You don't do so well on your own," the villain said instead, softly. "You never have."

The hero's throat bobbed as they swallowed, convulsive, choking something down. "Don't."

The villain raised a hand, rubbing their thumb over the gaunt line of the hero's face.

The hero flinched back.

"It's going to be alright," the villain said. "You're going to be alright. I've got you."

"You -" The hero laughed then, a broken thing. They jerked their head to the side but it didn't hide the tears glinting in their eyes. "Maybe let's not focus on me right now. You were - what they did to you - they told that they - I should have got here faster."

"I'm sorry they used me against you."

"Don't."

"Tell me their names?"

"They're all dead."

"Tell me anyway."

"I killed them."

"I know, love. Tell me anyway."

The hero swore, but the villain could practically watch some life creep back into those icy eyes. Some horror. Some thing that wasn't a stranger. Their hero. The hero held them a little tighter, cradling them a little closer against their chest.

"Just - later. Let me get you help. You need help."

Well, the villain couldn't argue with that. Still. Their own body didn't feel half as perturbing as the way the hero's eyes iced over again, determined to see through the job, to not shatter no matter what they'd done to get to where they were. To get the villain back. To save them.

They tucked themselves closer to the hero's chest, to their heart - thumping proof of life, proof of hope, proof that maybe they hadn't entirely lost the thing they cared about most of all.

Who did this to you?

But the villain didn't really need to ask.

The answer was always their own name.

[starry-on-ao3]

Okay but this is actually a perfect metaphor for-

Hold on

*scramble to get a projector screen and flashcards*

*clears throat*

One of the best pieces of writing advice I've seen recently that really helped me with my current WIPs is to just go ahead and write The Perfect Scene in the middle, and figure the rest out later!! Break free of the myth that you must write in a linear fashion!! Yes you must eventually fill in the bits before and after The Perfect Scene, so that the readers understand whatever wild and wacky journey you're bringing them on, but it shouldn't be a slog to get there - by the time you get there, you'll have muddled through the before bits and struggled so much you'll either resent the fic and give up, or The Perfect Scene won't live up to your ridiculously high expectations because of how long it took you to get there.

✨For example ✨

the current WIP I'm working on I'm estimating will have 25-30 chapters (and probably an epilogue). I have written as far as chapter 10 and have posted as far as chapter 4. I am estimating the dramatic resolution of the plot will occur in or around chapter 23-27. That's roughly 13-17 chapters in the future. Now that the holidays are over, and I'm back to work and various other commitments, I have no idea how long it'll take me to get there! It could be weeks or months! So I can't guarantee that I'll have the same enthusiasm for The Perfect Scene in weeks or months from now - and, in case I don't, I may as well partially write it now just as insurance. Even if it's not perfect, I can change it later, and at least I have an ideal to work towards!

More juicy writing advice

Another small piece of advice is to keep a note of the things that inspire you - for me it's song lyrics, which is why many of my pics begin with a playlist. In my tumblr drafts I have two posts where I'm writing a reflection on the writing process for this WIP and for a series which soon will be ending (sadly). Nobody ever necessarily needs to read your reflections, but it helps me to write these reflections as if I was planning on sharing them here, which I may do if there's interest. (but also it's your blog?!! you can do wtf you want with it?!! If you want to write critical reflection of your own work then just do it because I guarantee it will interest other fic authors, I love hearing about other fic authors experiences and writing journeys!)

Anyway hope this helps somebody 🤗🫶

[ruhlare]

"Let me love the pain"

[breannasfluff]

“I’m from Amity Park,” Danny says instead. “Small town in Illinois, probably a lot like where you grew up, Taylor. My parents are ectobiologists.”

“Ecto…what?”

He grimaces, because it’s the usual response to that statement. Sure, the world has superheroes and aliens now, but ghosts are still the unbelievable part. “They focus on the study of transdimensional ectenic entities and biochemical engineering.”

Conner turns and paces backward, ignoring that he’s catching his suit pants on thorns. “How about again in plain english?”

“They study ghosts!” Danny throws up his hands with a huff and waits for the laughter.

It doesn’t come.

“Ghosts?” Conner raises an eyebrow. “You met John Constantine yet? I heard he’s a real piece of work, but if anyone is involved with ghosts, it would be him.”

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Wrote this at midnight. Not even melatonin could contain the horny curse that Mok Tok put on me. Bon appetit~

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, alpha borisin!reader, sub/bottom/omega!Mok Tok, mind break, breeding, kidnapping (?), marking

Mok Tok is too feisty for his own good. He's the kind of guy who's impulsive and needs to follow someone, or something, far, far stronger than he is.

He needs a big, strong alpha to keep him in line. Needs you to show him where he truly belongs, even if he can't see it at first.

It takes a long time, and an absurd amount of patience, to break him. Mok Tok will yell, scream, howl, snarl, and try to bite you every step of the way — which is why he ends up chained in your basement, muzzled and isolated from everything. Your touch as gentle as can be, even as the omega pulls at his restraints and curses you out again.

Eventually, he's worn down. Your whispers in his sensitive, fuzzy ears — combined with miniscule suggestive touches that gradually made him desire you — eventually gave you the perfect mate.

Now, Mok Tok is your pliant omega whore, clingy and constantly craving his master's touch. He shivers when you enter the nest that he built in his little room. Piles of blankets and your used clothing, most of which ends up stained from Mok Tok's incessant humping when you're away.

You can see his thighs clamp together, feebly attempting to stop another wave of need from dripping out of his stiff cock, but it's too little, too late… you only need to brush your fingertips down his arm, and Mok Tok is whimpering like a sad puppy. Rolling over and going belly up for you — his alpha.

No matter how often you fuck him, Mok Tok always ends up tight again, gripping your dick like his insides are trying to bear hug you… but, hey, you're not about to complain about that. It only makes breeding his borussy that much more fun~

Speaking of breeding; you created an addiction. Mok Tok is desperate for your hot, alpha cum, whining so loudly for you to breed his omega pussy and let him have your pups. He'll do anything! Please, please, please cum in him — don't pull your cock out until there's so much cum in his hole that he can barely move! 🥺

While you're busy jackhammering his wet, creamy hole for the nth time, Mok Tok will shed tears of pure happiness, howling at the heavens when you fill him AGAIN, and pulling your body closer until he can barely breathe.

This little wolf is also a bit addicted to your marks. Every tiny bite or scratch is viewed as a trophy in his dumbed out, horny mess of a brain. Borisin typically view scars in a positive light, and Mok Tok is no exception. Even after you turned his brain to mush and programmed him to be your bitch, that fact didn't change.

The hickeys you cover his neck with? Treasures, all of them.

The long scratches running down his arms, sides, and back? Treasures, even though those do hurt a little…

The bite marks on Mok Tok's thighs, ankles, hands, and shoulders? Priceless treasures, every last one of 'em.

—

The moral of the story is: Mok Tok is my little wife, and I need to keep him forever~ 🩶

[blookitty]

Me with Ted's characters.

No I'm not sorry.

not gay not bisexual but developing a new sinister sexuality where im looney toons level obsessed with a single guy and put him into contraptions

[thatdisasterauthor]

My paper "The Changing Social Media Landscape and its Implications for Disaster Response and Management" just got accepted into the Journal for Emergency Management!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉

This will be my first paper published in an academic journal!

[chaotic-mystery]

Hotline to Heaven | Joel Miller x reader

✧ Summary: An inquisitive man gets more than what he's used to when he pushes the wrong number on a phone sex hotline.

✧ Content Warnings: MDNI ! 18+ only. dom!reader, sub!joel, pre outbreak, empty house means he's up to no good, porn connoisseur, phone sex, dirty talk ( i mean duh) mutual masturbation, swearing, orgasm denial, safeword mentioned but not used, talking him through it this time, a little aftercare, slight mention of one of my favorite movies bc I know Joel would've liked it too.

✧ Authors Note: This is my submission for @wannab-urs DMAMC 2025 that you can find the masterlist here. A goal of mine this year is to step out of my writing bubble when it comes to challenges and write things I normally wouldn't on my own. If you read my work, you know this is a roles reversed situation for me and I'm nervous to share it but also excited! Thank you, Gin, for letting me be a part of this, I love you <3 As always big ups to my twin for beta reading for me, love you, Ali.

red line divider | cover and matching dividers made by (Ali) & I |

✧ WC: 2.4K | masterlist | requests | update blog | ✧

Being a single dad was not an easy job, but Joel made it work somehow. With lots and lots of pancakes and promised sleepovers at friends houses if Sarah kept her grades up. 

Another Friday night at home alone while Sarah was in the next town over, probably hopped up on soda and candy, Joel digs out his laptop from the bag on the floor and sets it up on the cherrywood coffee table. The house was quiet for the most part, the low humming of the dryer down the hallway in the laundry room. 

Booting up the old computer, Joel tilts his head back on the sofa and makes sure his brown curtains are closed along with the white blinds he just put up a few weeks ago. Joel's finger moves against the worn trackpad, opening up the DVD rom to pop in the movie he rented from blockbuster on his drive home from dropping off Sarah. 

Joel reads the cover while it loads to open. His favorite actress being the main character got him all excited and may have been the only reason he rented it to begin with. It definitely wasn’t because she was playing a vampire in a latex bodysuit.

About halfway through the movie and many scenes later of this character being an absolute badass, Joel could feel the growing tension in his jeans. Wanting to take care of the problem to finish the movie he'd grown invested in, he pauses it and opens up a web browser and goes to his tried and true adult website. The amount of pop up ads always annoyed him, he just wanted to find something to watch and keep it moving. 

Until tonight. 

A banner flashes right above the search bar filled with his previous endeavors, the colors immediately catching his eyes. 

“What the hell is this?” He mutters to himself as he watches the words change. 

A number pops up with tiny images of girls in the corner of the banner. Feeling adventurous, he digs out his phone from his pocket and dials the number before it changes to a new ad. 

He’s met with an automated message, overly seductive and giving him the rundown of what he’s getting himself into. His finger hovers over the pound button to confirm he was consenting to this, that he was willing to continue. The line beeps a few times before a new message starts to play. 

”Press one if you want to meet me, the girl next door.” 

The voice changes to a new girl, “press two if you want to fix my leaky pipes.” 

Another different voice, “press three if you want to punish me for not turning in my college essay.”

”Press four to meet me and my best friend, Layla.”

”Hit five if you wanna romp in the hay with me, yeehaw!”

Joel snickers at the generic attempt at a southern accent. 

“Call me into your office by pressing six!”

Joel could hardly contain himself at all the options he was given, and he had three more he’d yet to hear. 

“Select seven to meet me, Vixen the d-“ 

Before the voice finished speaking, his finger pushed a button and he wasn’t sure which one he chose. Frankly, he was excited for any of them.

Your line was ringing and it wasn’t too often it did, no one usually got past Katie and Layla. 

Picking up the phone, you smile when you hear the southern drawl in his words. 

“Have you been a bad boy today?” You almost whisper into the phone before he responds. 

“Y-yes, I have, darlin.” His tone was a little confused, unsure of what he just answered.

You grin and sit up straighter. 

“Well, good thing I’m in the mood to punish you.”

Joel’s eyes widen and he doesn’t know what to say. This wasn’t the number he meant to push. He wasn’t really the type of man to want to be told what to do.

From anyone. 

“Darlin’ can you tell me which button I pushed by chance?”

He was trying to be as polite as he could and you were going to have some fun with this. 

“You pushed seven and here I am; Vixen the Dom.” Smirking at the quiet line, you wonder for a split second if he hung up.

“I-I’m sorry…dom? I don’t know if this is really something I’m into. I mean, that’s great if you’re someone who can but that doesn’t sound like me.”

“I get it. You can’t let go of that control, scared to see a new side to yourself. I understand. If you want to hang up and redial I understand.”

Joel hesitates hanging up and he glides his tongue over his bottom lip.

“What exactly…would I be getting myself into with you, Vixen?”

What a curious man. 

“You’d give me control, no backtalk, no resisting, you submit to me. There’s a safeword we can use at any point if it gets to be too much for you. At that point I’d stop and we can calm down, just talk. I never get mad at someone using a safe word.”

“A-and what’s the safe word?” The temptation in his voice shows you he’s interested. 

“Hopscotch.” 

His chuckle rings through your ear and makes your face warm, giggling at his reaction. 

“So, you’ve stayed here this long and I can tell you’re curious. Are you going to let me take control of you, I didn’t get your name” You state, trying to guess before he answers.

“Joel. Names Joel. It’s a pleasure to spend the night with you tonight, Vixen.” 

The respect he was giving already showed you how natural it came to him, he was this way in his day to day life. 

“You’re going to be my good boy tonight, Joel?” 

“Y-yes” he hesitantly responds. 

“Yes, ma’am. Repeat it.” Goosebumps raise on your arms and the excitement shakes your core

“Yes ma’am.”

“I’m going to tell you what to think, what to say, I’m going to do everything I want to you until you’re begging me to let you come.” You bite your lip and smirk, your body excited for this phone call. 

“I want you to close your eyes and I want you to grab your bulge and rub it, slowly for me,” You say sternly but seductively, propping your legs up so your knees are bent, freehand resting on your abdomen.

You can hear his belt jingle and some shuffling from the other end of the phone, causing you to smirk. He doesn’t get it, it’s new for him. It was painfully obvious but you decided to take it slow for his first time. 

“I didn’t say to undo your belt and ditch your pants, did I? I said rub your bulge, just rub it.”

“Y-yes ma’am.” His breath was shaky from anticipation and nerves, it was cute. He has no idea what he’s getting himself into with you.

“Tell me how good it feels, baby. Tell me what you want,” you tease, your fingers dancing above your panty line. 

“I wish you were here right now. Tell me to lay on my back while you get on top and ride my face until I'm begging for air. I want you to use me until you come all over my face and make me clean you up before you ride my big dick. Use me, Ms. Vixen, p-please.” Joel’s whimpers make you feel that boiling heat in your stomach before you feel your panties get wet, for a half second he takes your breath away.

“Ms.Vixen? Hm, you’re learning quickly I see. Reach in your pants and take your cock out for me, get it nice and wet. I want to hear how needy you are for me.”

You hear his belt unbuckle followed by the soft sound of him spitting into his hand, married with a groan of pleasure. 

“Now, you want to be my good boy tonight, right?” You ask and dip your hand inside your panties, softly teasing yourself. This was so unlike you, normally you didn’t want to touch yourself during a call. He was different. 

”You aren’t going to come until I tell you, alright? Think you can handle that, baby?” 

“I can handle that, yes ma’am.”

Hearing the wet sounds from him jerking his cock off makes you grin and a moan almost slips out but you catch yourself and give a small giggle. 

”It’s cute the way you fuck your hand and pretend its my pussy, big grown man just aching to be put in his place. I want to watch your face when I slip your cock inside me, baby. I’ll keep a fistful of your hair so you keep your eyes on me, let me watch you go to another planet when you realize how deep you are.”

Joel moans loudly and he can’t catch his breath as he imagines how good it would feel inside you and to be used by you. 

“Y-yes please, Vixen. Ride my cock and make yourself feel good, I can be whatever you want me to be.”

You circle your clit faster as your legs tremble, your moans swirling together to sound like a beautiful harmony. 

“I can ride you and wrap my hand around your throat while I put my panties in your mouth to keep you quiet, wouldn’t want anyone to hear those pretty whimpers, now would we?”

“Can-can you tell me what your panties look like, darlin’? Please.” Joel stutters out and moans just thinking about it.

Biting your lip, you hold the handset closer to your mouth as you continue fingering your soaked cunt with your other hand.

“They’re lace, black of course. With a little red bow right in front of the waistband. Sick little pervert you are. Makes my pussy so wet thinking about you trying to moan my name but I can’t understand you with them in your mouth. Even when you’re begging for more, begging to come I can’t hear you.”

Joel groans louder and all you can see in your head as your eyes are squeezed shut is how handsome he sounds Just the pretty whimpers he makes has you thinking how good looking he must be, how his dick is so slippery in his fist from all the precum and spit. 

“I bet you’d lose your mind if I pinned your hands down and really took all control from you, wouldn’t you baby? You’d squirm and try to touch me but you can’t, not while I’m playing with you like a toy. You’re my toy, do you hear me? Mine. Say you’re mine while you jerk off.” Your breaths get shorter as you moan softly, finally letting him hear how turned on you are. 

“I’m just your playtoy, Ms.Vixen. Onl-ly yours. I p-promise. Fuck it feels so good, shit.” 

The silk sheets under your skin slide under you as you squirm, giving into him a little more with each beg he cries out. This feels like heaven and you can’t get enough of him. Part of you wanted to stop touching yourself to keep him on the phone longer, partially because you didn’t know if he’d ever call again. 

“Let go of your pretty cock. Don’t touch it and listen to me.” You demand calmly and smirk when you hear him groan in annoyance.

“Is that an attitude I hear?” you ask condescendingly. 

“No ma’am, no ma’am.” he quickly retorts. Good boy. 

“I’ve got two fingers inside me right now but they just don’t compare to your cock I bet. You’d probably keep me up all night and let me turn you every which way but loose, hm? Think you could keep up with me, sweetheart? How about I cuff your hands to the bed and suck your cock until you can’t take it anymore and beg to paint my face with your cum.”

You can hear a slew of profanities and Joel groans almost in pain and he whines, “God dammit that’s so hot. Please let me jerk off, baby. It’s killing me not to touch myself while I think about stuffing you full of my dick. Your perfect body on mine, what a pleasure that would be. Please, may I touch myself?”

Clamping your legs closed so you don’t come yourself, you tell him to continue and soon once more your moans mix together. 

“I-I need to come, Ms.Vixen. Please let me be a goodboy and come, p-please-oh fuckkk-”

“You want to come for me, baby boy? I’m going to have to think about whether you deserve it or not, sweetheart.” 

“Let me show you how good you make me feel, I need you so bad. C’mon baby-oh shittt- please?”

Your breath hitches in your throat and you have this aching urge to hear him come and whimper in your ear. Hearing men be so whiny when they come was music to your ears. 

“Go on then, show me the pretty sounds you make when you come, baby. Jerk that fuckin’ cock off while you think about me. Think about coming on my tits, these pretty fucking titties that would look even better with your cock between them. C’mon honey, come for me, right now. Be my favorite toy.”

That was all he needed to hear before he was groaning loudly into the phone, enough to make you cover your mouth and come with him. Couldn’t let him know how down bad he already had you. 

Your ears were ringing slightly but you could still hear the shuffling from his end, probably cleaning himself up and the mess he made. 

“You alright over there, big guy?” You ask, trying to calm your breathing. 

“It was a lot, let’s just say I made a mess” he chuckles and sighs tiredly.

“How was that for your first time being a sub? I tried to take it slow for you.” 

“That was uh, that was the best time I’ve had in a while. You really know what you’re doing, huh? I’d love to call you again, maybe your direct line next time?” 

You shake your head and chuckle at him. Silly boy. 

“I had a fun time tonight, Joel. Maybe if you call me again I’ll think about giving you my phone number.”

“Fair enough. Thank you, Vixen. It was a pleasure. Good night.”

“Good night, my good boy.” 

The line goes silent and Joel puts his cellphone down on the couch cushion beside him, taking a deep breath as he circles back over everything he just did. Closing out of the tab and continuing his movie, he enjoyed it but Joel couldn’t stop thinking about you the rest of the night. 

Even when he was in his bed trying to sleep, you consumed his brain and he needed more. 

A lot more, but of course, only if you let him. 

[baambastic]

“Drake,” Damian announced, “I require your presence at an outing this afternoon.”

“‘Hello, Tim, how are you?’ ‘I’m good, Damian, and how about you? Did you need something?’ It’s usually considered polite not to walk in and immediately make demands of people, Damian,” Tim replied from where he was hunched over his keyboard. He didn’t look over at his unexpected visitor, but he bet the brat was rolling his eyes.

“Whatever. Will you do it or not?”

Tim hummed. “Depends on what this ‘outing’ is. And why you didn’t ask Bruce or Dick to take you.”

“Father and Grayson are both imbeciles,” Damian huffed.

“They’re too busy today, you mean?”

“I meant what I said. Are you an imbecile like they are?”

“Again, you haven’t told me what it is you want to do.”

“Fine,” Damian grumbled. “Colin has asked me to do something called an ‘escape room’ with him. It sounded mildly diverting, so I looked into it. There’s a recently opened establishment for such an activity, but we need four people to participate.”

“And you want me to be one of those four,” Tim concluded. He pushed himself away from the computer. “I’ve got time, so sure, I’ll come with. Two things, though.” He paused for dramatic effect.

Damian crossed his arms impatiently. “Yes?”

Tim grinned. “First, who’s this Colin?”

“An acquaintance. He assisted me in apprehending Victor Zsasz not long ago.”

“Is he around your age?”

“Approximately.”

Was he some sort of meta, then? How else would a (presumably untrained) kid be able to handle Zsasz? Tim decided to file that away for later inspection. At least it sounded like Damian was making friends. He definitely needed some. “Alright then, second thing. You said you needed four people. Even with me, you only have three. Who’s your fourth?”

Damian looked away. “I… hadn’t gotten that far yet.” Was that embarrassment Tim heard in his voice? Damian was usually too proud for that.

“Okay, not a problem. I can wrangle us another person.” If the person he was thinking of could make it, both Damian and them could get a lot out of this. Hurrah for two birds with one escape-room-shaped stone.

“Very well. Colin and I will be waiting outside for you. I presume this fourth person will meet us at the establishment?”

“Probably, yeah. Did you really leave Colin on my doorstep?”

“He did not want to enter, I would say because he thought he might be unwelcome. A stupid notion; you are far too trusting.”

“Thanks,” Tim said drily. He waved towards the door. “Alright, lemme make this call.”

Damian nodded and walked away. Before fully exiting the room, though, he turned back to Tim. “What are you working on, anyway?” he asked.

Tim hummed. “Nothing much. Just preparing.” He didn’t offer any further explanation. After a few moments of waiting expectantly, Damian huffed and left.