#nothing kinky or unusual

[lovelyunholyc]

rereading and editing my choso draft and i--

ngl this is kinda one of the nastiest things i've written LMFAO

[sserpente]

A Haunted Read (Kinktober #1)

You are certain the library you work in his haunted. However, you are not certain ghosts can cast green magic and tease you like that...

A/N: Request by @blackwidownat2814. This request is so old, I’ll go stand in a corner and be ashamed of myself. *clears throat* On another note… Happy Kinktober! It’s my favourite time of the year and I’ve got a bunch of spooky and/or kinky Imagines ready to go this year! Starting off strong with Loki, have fun reading! ;)

Words: 2019 Warnings:  ghost!Loki (sort of), smut

You were certain the library was haunted. You were not imagining things. You could hear it. Every single night. A mischievous chuckle, a dark giggle, right after whatever spirit had made itself comfortable in your workplace wreaked some havoc when you were trying to get through your shift.

The concept of a library that was open twenty-four hours a day wasn’t so unusual but it could have done with some more marketing. You were alone most of the time, sorting through books, listening to music, and handling returns left over by the day shift.

Working at night was refreshing. Regardless of the ghost haunting you, you already had the story of a lifetime to tell to your future children (or well, pets). Your boss didn’t want to believe you when you claimed that Thor, the Thor, and his brother Loki had visited the library two weeks ago, searching for a rare tome for a super-secret Asgardian mission.

A selfie with Thor (and Loki rolling his eyes in the background) was now your new profile picture on all of the social media platforms you were on.

Thor was just as righteous and warm as the media portrayed him. Loki was…something else. Cautious, quiet, snarky and to be frank, condescending. Not to mention he’d been the one to show up first, catching you reading a very steamy romance novel. Damn those gods and their quiet footsteps.

You bit your lower lip and rolled a trolley filled with books to your desk. At the end of the day, strangely enough, Loki had fascinated you even more than Thor had. After everything that happened in New York all those years ago, vigilance around his person was a given. But there was more to him than that, you were certain of that. After all, Thor kept him around for a reason, right?

In all honesty, he reminded you a little of those brooding and morally grey men in the books you liked to read. Cold on the outside but a good heart hidden beneath…right? His blue gaze had lingered on you just a little too long. It was captivating, mesmerising, stunning, breath-taking…it was hard to believe it was Thor who captured all the women’s hearts. Loki was not only handsome but also mysterious. He was your perfect book boyfriend and you had not just once caught yourself imagining him as the male protagonist in your latest erotic adventure.

A chuckle. You rolled your eyes. “Who is there? Show yourself!”

Silence. Of course. You hadn’t expected anything else. Except—

You flinched when the neatly stacked books on your desk scattered to the carpeted floor. You groaned. “Seriously? I just sorted through these!”

Perhaps you should have been worried about a poltergeist keeping you company at this time of day, alone and surrounded only by rows and rows of books, especially this close to Halloween. But then again, you had nothing to fear from the dead. The living were much scarier than anything a poltergeist could come up with.

Another chuckle.

“Really funny… You know if you’ve got something to say, say it. Maybe I can help you move on to the afterlife or something like that…” You bent over to pick up the books when you spotted a green hue flickering across the edges of some of the books, almost as if whatever had moved them still lingered on the covers.

Great. Ghost goo. Time to call the Ghostbusters.

Hopefully, the rest of your shift was going to be peaceful. You sighed, stacking the books yet again. They had to be re-labelled and some of them needed a new protective cover. If you got this done now…and the library remained this empty…you’d have enough time to finish that sexy Halloween novel you’d been reading.

After all, that was the best part of your job. It was heaven to get paid for reading. So you got to work, listening to some music to drown out the repeated chuckles. At least nothing else went flying for now. Although you couldn’t quite shake the constant shivers running up and down your spine. It was as if your body sensed another presence.

You didn’t hate it—but you didn’t like it, either.

Three long hours later, as you rolled your neck to ease some of the tension, you were done. The trolley was empty, the returns list was updated, all the books were re-labelled…and you finally had time for the steamy romance novel waiting for you on the desk.

After making some tea in the staff room, you made yourself comfortable in the surprisingly cosy desk chair and got lost in your story.

Your protagonist was about to be seduced by a handsome demon looking to devour her soul—of course, they’d eventually fall in love in the process. She was dreaming, half-awake, and then…experiencing sleep paralysis. The girl had gone to bed naked, making it even easier for the demon to tease her into oblivion.

Damn, this was hot. You could feel yourself growing wet, arousal rippling through you.

You flinched when something tugged at your hair. You flipped around. There was no one there.

The demon in the book pulled back the covers, revealing the girl’s glistening pussy to its greedy gaze.

Something tugged at your clothes. “What the…” Flailing, your eyes scanned your surroundings. Nothing. This was the first time this ghost was touching you. This…shit. “Stop it! Let go of me!”

Perhaps if you ignored it…you bit your lower lip, lowered your gaze, and kept on reading in an attempt to block the spirit out. No one liked to be ignored, right? Maybe it just wanted attention like a toddler. Or a pet.

The demon stuck out his long tongue and licked over the girl’s cunt, lapping at her juices.

It was just then you noticed that green hue of energy again, disappearing…underneath your skirt. Your eyes widened.

“W-Wait, no, what…what is…” Trying to press your legs together did nothing. The energy remained, forcing itself…you gasped.

“What are you doing? What’s happening, what are you…oh.” It did not wait for you to finish. The energy pressed up directly against your clit. A moan escaped your lips. No…no, this wasn’t supposed to feel good, what was it doing?

I-ignore it…just ignore it…just…ignore it…

The girl in the book whimpered, her legs falling open wider against her will. And then…so did yours. Fuck… You should be scared. Terrified. Instead…instead all you could sense was excitement.

You stopped reading, desperate to catch a glimpse of that green hue again…only for it to disappear. Damn it. Disappointment should be the last thing you’re feeling. And then, as soon as you brought your gaze back to the pages of your book, the pressure returned.

Oh. Oh my. Did…did the spirit want you to keep reading? And only then would it…

No. Oh no. You should not be playing this game. This was bad. Wrong. Maybe it wasn’t even a spirit after all. What if it was an incubus? What if it’d feast on your pleasure and steal your energy, your soul even in the worst-case scenario?

You bit your lower lip when the pressure intensified, sneaking its way past your drenched lips and…inside you as if to distract you from your worrying thoughts. Fuck…you’d never felt so…so full. How was this even possible?

Finally, the girl in the book opened her eyes only to find the handsome demon hovering directly above her the very moment he thrust up into her, claiming every single inch of her. And with every line you read…the invisible force working your own arousal kept stroking and teasing your pussy as if it’d done so a million times before. You couldn’t help it. You pictured Loki to be the demon seducing this girl.

Fuck it. Whatever this experience was, now was not the time for fear. You could be scared later and be horny now.

Growing hotter with every minute, it got harder and harder to focus on the text. You climbed the ladder fast, the mysterious energy pleasuring you better than any of your toys could. If it kept going, you would…you would…oh…

“I’m coming!” you yelled out, grateful that you were alone—save for the naughty ghost having its fun with you. You clenched around the energy force as you hit your climax, bliss unlike any other rippling through you. You dropped your book, your nails digging into the armrests, your head thrown back.

Your little poltergeist took its time. It did not let up until you’d come down from your high, your senses and dreadful realisation at what you had just let a ghostly appearance do to you washing away the last waves of pleasure.

And yet…you had never come this hard. If anything…this had been the most mind-bending orgasm of your life. You wanted to experience that again. You wanted to experience it again.

But, as the force slowly retreated and the green hue evaporated into nothingness, you figured it would be stupid to beg it to come back and give you more.

One thing was for certain, however. You could not, under any circumstances, let anyone ever know what had just happened to you.

The next evening remained uneventful. At first. No ghosts, no flying objects, no invisible hands forcing you to come for them. You were about to continue reading that faithful book from last night when all of a sudden, the main doors of the library opened and two now all too familiar figures walked inside.

Thor and Loki.

“Hey, you two! Any progress on your ancient Asgardian tome?”

You were quite flattered when Thor remembered your name and they both greeted you. Thor with a friendly “Hello”, and Loki with a curt nod. “No luck so far. But we have a new lead. Would you mind if we took another little browse?”

“Not at all, take your time. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Thor smiled and nodded before he walked off, straight toward the history and mythology section. Loki, on the other hand…lingered a little longer in place than he probably should have. God, even how he was standing there, lurking, observing you with those scrutinising blue eyes…he was grace personified.

“C-Can…can I help you?” you asked.

Loki smirked. “I was hoping you might be able to help me find some…lighter literature. To pass the time so to speak.”

“Uh…sure. W-what…” Oh, get it together! “What kind of literature were you thinking about?”

“I have an affinity for romance. Perhaps something along the lines of…what you read last night.”

Your face fell when he flicked his wrist and steamy erotica resting on your desk chair practically flew into his hands—enveloped in green mist.

Oh. My. God.

You didn’t get to respond. Not that you knew what to say anyway. Thor came rushing back to the front desk with an odd-looking compass in one hand and another really old book on settlements in Norway in the other.

“Loki! Loki, I think I found what we’re looking for. That thing Strange gave us is spinning like crazy, look!”

Loki didn’t look. His eyes were locked with yours still, his smirk never letting up. Fuck. Me.

“Are you quite alright, dear? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he mused.

You gnashed your teeth, resisting the urge to growl.

Thor gave you a puzzled look. Shit.

“N-no. I’m okay. I’m fine.”

“Right…” Thor began, “…we’d like to borrow this one.”

“S-sure…” Snapping yourself out of it, you took the book from Thor’s hands and scanned it before handing it back to him.

“Thank you! That will be all. Come on, Loki, stop terrifying the poor girl.” Thor gave you one last friendly smile before he made his way towards the exit.

“It was lovely to see you again, pet. I can’t wait to see what book you are going to read next,” Loki said before he turned on his heel and followed his brother, leaving you behind dumbfounded.

So he had intentions to return. Fuck…you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want him to.

[menagerofmischief]

nsfw alphabet -> jb22

masterlist

nsfw alphabet (a-z)

jenson button x fem!reader

cw: I think it's pretty clear what's under the cut, so proceed as you will, 18+ content

a/n: I've never done a nsfw alphabet but this seemed fun. feel free to send requests for nsfw alphabets.

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

Jenson may be a slut, but he's a needy slut that's for sure. Once you're done he's desperate to be touching you in any way, as long as your skin is touching his skin he's content. He'll run you a bath and get in with you or just clean you up and cuddle you to sleep.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

On himself he loves his arm and chest, it's clear he's an athlete and works out and he likes the way he looks, nothing wrong with that.

Ass man, boob man ... Jenson is a thighs man! He loves your thighs, especially if they're bigger. He'll grip them to the point where there will be visible bruises the next morning. He loves leaving hickeys and small bites there as well and especially loves holding onto your thighs as you ride him.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

He loves it no matter where it ends up. On your tits, your face, your stomach, your ass, over your pussy. But his favorite place has got to be inside. Something about watching his cum leaking from you really lights a spark inside of him.

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

Once you gave him a spicy polaroid picture, and now he keeps it in his wallet. When he's traveling and you can't join he definitely takes it out and uses it.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

This goes without saying that he's experienced. Jenson's been around, that's for sure, but at the end of the day it all makes him a more skilled lover for you.

F= Favorite position

Doggy -> he likes to see your back arch and your ass shake as he pounds into you, sometimes he'll give your ass a smack, other time's he'll reach around you and grope your tits.

Cowgirl -> he likes to see you on top, especially when he can prop himself up and take one of your nipples into his mouth. don't be fooled tho, he will plant his feet down and fuck up into you like there's no tomorrow.

Missionary -> oldie but a goodie, sometimes he really needs some intimate eye to eye loving and you're happy to oblige.

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

It all depends on the mood. Sometimes he's cracking a few jokes along the way and other times the only thing coming from his mouth is unfiltered dirty dirty talk.

H= Hair (grooming habits)

He keeps it trimmed pretty close but doesn't completely shave it off as the feeling of it growing back gets uncomfortable for him. He doesn't really care about what you do as long as you're comfortable, he's not afraid to go exploring.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

Back when he was racing it was often fast paced and rough. While there's still times that it is, now that he's retired it's slower and more romantic.

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

When you can't join him for travel he'll face time you or use one of your dirty photos and jack off. At home he doesn't really do it since he has you. Is down for mutual masturbation.

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

Little kinky slut, if I'm being honest. But mainly: exhibitionism, size kink, overstimulation.

Also really enjoys having sex in front of a mirror and occasionally making a home made sex tape.

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

He's open to doing it pretty much anywhere but at the end of the day he prefers his bedroom because he can really take his time and take you apart properly.

M= Motivation (what gets them going)

Pretty much anything, he's always ready to go. If you're in the mood, he's in the mood.

N= No (something they won't do)

He doesn't want to do anything that will seriously hurt you. Indulging in some light BDSM is fine, but any actual pain and he's stopping immediately.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

As much as he loves the feel of your lips wrapped around his dick, he absolutely adores eating you out. Could spend the whole day between your legs and it would be a day well spent. He's pretty skilled with his tongue and will have you cumming multiple times.

P= Pace (do they prefer it slow or fast)

Really depends on the mood. Sometimes it can be hard and fast fucking and other times it's passionate love making.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer quickies or taking their time)

While he does prefer to take his time and make you fall apart under him multiple times, sometimes there's not enough times and there come in the quickies.

He's down for quickies, and will absolutely make you cum no matter how little time the two of you have. He'll do it pretty much anywhere, from his driver's room to the public bathroom of a restaurant or a club.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

He's down for new things and would try anything once before writing it off. And he's a bit of an exhibitionist so definitely up for doing it in risky places.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go)

He's an athlete and has pretty great stamina so safe to say he can go for multiple rounds with little to no breaks. He'll have you cumming at least twice every time as well.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

Full box of toys under your bed, from vibrators to inhumanly shaped dildos and anal beads, there's everything in there. Watched 50 Shades and wanted to ass a red room to your house but you told him no.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

He loves teasing you, anywhere and anytime. On a formal dinner, he'll slip his hand underneath your dress under the table. In the car, in the bedroom, really anywhere.

He's okay with you teasing him as well but gets frustrated pretty easily and will bend you over the nearest surface.

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

As soon as his mouth is open it's full on dirty talk. He'll say the nastiest things possible, with few grunts, gasps and swear words in between. Sometimes when you're on top and going extra slow or teasing him he'll whine, but it's not often.

W= Wild card (random headcannon of any sort)

He bent you over his race car and fucked you like an animal in heat after he won the championship. Still thinks about it sometimes.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in those pants)

A bit over 7 inches and he knows how to use it well. His dick is pretty, with a pink tip and a vein running along the underside.

Y= Yearning (sex drive)

Man is a proper whore. He's horny 24/7, as soon as you even give him a suggestive look he's ready to drop his pants and get going.

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

If he's has a really rough day he'll fall asleep earlier than usual, but in general he liked laying with you and waiting for you to fall asleep first.

hope you enjoyed, leave a like or reblog <3

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

MONSTER- SAM WINCHESTER

pairing: soulless! ghostface! bestfriend! sam x fem! reader

word count: 4.3k

summary: you had always had a massive crush on your best friend, sam. that crush never went away even when he had to leave- for some "family buisness". when halloween rolls around, you invite him to a halloween party- hoping theres a chance he could show up and you could finally get lucky- even with all the sudden disappearances happening around town...

warnings: HEAVY SMUT! like kinky smut. use of knife play, and mentions of ropes. sam being a massive dom, dumbification kink, p in v, heavy praise kink, booze and drugs consumed/ mentioned, mentions of killings- kidnapping, implied mask kink, dry humping, over-protetive sam, heavy size kink, swearing, flirtation etc... dark sam...

"uh-oh, there was a monster in my bed/ we french-kissed on a subway train/ he tore my clothes right off/ he ate my heart and then he ate my brain... uh-oh, uh-oh (i love that girl)/ (wanna talk to her, she's hot as hell)"- monster, lady gaga

note: this is my first supernatural fic, i really hope i did sam some justice:) i havent had the time to fully rewatch the show (its been a while, so im really sorry if this isnt entirely accurate)- this moreso focuses on just... sam being a kinky freak. cause cmon now. we know this is canon as fuck. enjoy reading!

You weren’t sure what to believe, in all honesty. Rumors spread through campus like wildfire, and you were caught just teetering on the lick of the flame.

Girls, disappearing from their homes.

Girls never making it to their dorms.

It had even gotten so extreme you heard of guys getting swept up like Thursday garbage day.

The whole ordeal made you uneasy. Vulnerable.

You constantly checked over your shoulder, even in the daylight.

No one was safe.

But in all honesty, you couldn’t help but scoff. It would never happen to you.

Nothing ever did.

You were pretty plain in that sense; nothing drastic had ever happened to you.

For the most part, your life was normal. You had normal friends, went to a normal university, and had normal parents. No boyfriend, but a normal crush on your friend Sam Winchester. Totally, completely normal.

Which is why, when you were invited to a totally normal Halloween party at one of the frats, you didn’t think anything of it. It was a Wednesday night, and you longed to slip into PJs and crawl into bed.

But here you were, attempting to “lock in” at the library (and had been failing miserably). You had a paper to write, but your mind was anywhere but on the laptop screen in front of you.

The cursor stared at you as it blinked, taunting you to write. You put your head in your hands, sighing. You also had totally normal stress about school.

Okay, it was extreme stress. But you were a straight-A, goodie two-shoes. You had an image to keep dusted and a reputation to uphold.

But the urge to push that to the side increased as your phone buzzed. You instinctively picked it up—your friend Megan texting you.

Megan: Hey baby. Halloween party at Jason’s on Saturday night. Bar hop and then we go in our bunny costumes?

You smirked. Now this, this was something you could get behind. All that could be heard was your thumbs flying across the keyboard in the dead quiet library.

Everyone had gone home early due to the unusual events that had been occurring. You weren’t bothered by it much.

You: Duh, bitch! Let’s party it up.

You stared at your messages longer than you should’ve, focusing on one name in particular. Sam.

You hadn’t heard from him in over a week. The two of you were best friends and had been since high school. You were pretty close with his older brother Dean too, although closer to Sam since he was your age.

That closeness almost increased when he had started to go to your university. The pair of you were inseparable until he had to leave.

You didn’t ask questions because you knew he wouldn’t be able to answer. Him and Dean were very selective about what parts of their lives they told. Family business wasn’t any of your business.

So you gave him a long hug and made him promise to keep in touch if he could.

That day felt like ages ago. It had been so long since you saw him.

Texting him wasn’t the same.

You: Any plans for Halloween, Sammy?

You put your phone down, not expecting an answer until a while later. The Winchesters took forever to respond, and you learned not to take it personally. Your phone buzzed, and your heart fluttered as you saw who it was from.

Sam: You know I don’t do Halloween. It’s stupid, and the costumes are lame. You: Well, I’m going as a sexy bunny.

You watched the text bubble appear, then disappear. Then reappear again.

Sam: Okay, that’s not lame. Send pictures, please. Asking for a friend.

You giggled, feeling your cheeks heat at his reply. Him and Dean were such flirts. You couldn’t help but like it, though, because of your crush on the younger Winchester.

You: Well, if you want, you can see it in person. If you’re in town this weekend, there’s a party on Saturday night ;) Sam: I’ll see what I can do, Bunny.

You sighed, shoving your phone back in your pocket. You needed to focus on work and get this paper done so you could enjoy yourself this weekend without the weight of school on your shoulders. You couldn’t enjoy yourself properly without it done.

So you pushed your head back into the books, fingers frantically flying across the keyboard to type anything your brain could come up with.

But the entire time, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched.

Not once, but twice.

--------------------------------------------------------- The shot burned as you tossed it back, licks of fire seeping into your belly as you grimaced. You were more of a vodka girl then a tequila, but you’d take what was given to you.

You set the little glass down with a thud on your vanity, taking a deep breath as you stared at yourself in the mirror, soft lights dimly lighting up your reflection.

You looked good.

You weren't one to be overly confident, but you had to admit to yourself, you’d grab attention. The sleek, black corset hugged and accentuated your curves, boobs popping and teasing as they strained against the fabric.

You placed the black bunny ears on your head, adjusting your hair so it curled around your shoulders just right. You very tipsly pursed your lips in the mirror, a hand on your hip as you winked at yourself.

If this doesn't get Sam's attention, you don't know what will.

The thought of him made you giddy, butterflies swarming in your chest at the mere idea there was a chance he and maybe even Dean would be there tonight. You very much doubted it, and did not blame them if they couldn't arrive.

They were busy. You doubted they would even be near town, let alone in it.

But a girl could hope and dream.

You made sure to do a signature, sexy makeup look you knew Sam liked (you caught him staring at your lips a little too long a few times), in case he arrived.

“You coming?” Megan yelled from her bedroom, and you scrambled to grab your phone and hike on your heeled boots.

“Yeah one second!”

You posed, snapping a quick mirror picture in case you needed photo evidence in your costume to send to him later.

You were nervous. Taking another deep breath, you shut your eyes, and begged those shots to give your lightweight ass some drunk corrage to get laid tonight.

It had been too long. Above and beyond your goal if it was one man in particular.

------------------------------------------- You were no longer nervous.

Instead, you had turned into Kat Stratford, shaking your hips and dancing like no one was watching on top of the kitchen table in some random frat house.

The red lights danced across the skin, and you tilted your head back, letting sweat trickle down your neck as you swayed to 2010s Lady Gaga thumping from the speakers loud enough to shake the picture frames on the walls. Your friends had all gathered around you, even some fellow straggler guys who wanted to get a quick peek as you had your drunken fun, red solo cup sloshing around.

A sudden voice broke you from your trance.

“Y/N what do you think you’re doing?” a sassy, low voice drawled from the ground, and your eyes widened. Sam's mischievous, teasing look made your heart flutter as he looked at you, barely having to look up- already being taller than the average human.

Much, much bigger than you- that was for sure.

“S-Sam?” you smiled, stumbling over to try and get off the table, tripping in the process. You let out a squeal as you fell right into his large arms, holding you as if you weighed nothing.

He chuckled as you stumbled to the ground, wasting no time as you wrapped your arms around him- clearly drunk.

“Imisseedyousomuch-” you slurred, giggling as you clung to his torso rocking back and forth with excitement.

“I can't believe you made it! How have you been? Oh my gosh, I have so much to tell you. And wait- woah are you wearing a costume?”

You rambled on, his bright eyes and soft smirk never leaving his lips as you tripped over your words. He pulled a mask from behind his back, as if he were revealing a magic trick to a toddler, waving the Ghostface mask in front of you.

”The one and only.” he winked.

“Who are you and what did you do with Sammy? I thought you didn't do Halloween?”

“Changed my mind this year, thought I’d make it special.” he smiled, subtly placing a hand on your waist, guiding you over to a quieter area so you could talk- his eyes never leaving yours.

He was entranced with you. The way you spoke, the way you moved, the way you looked.

God the way you looked.

And you were so dizzy from the booze, and from the excitement of seeing him you didn't even notice. You didn't notice the little shifts in his demeanour either, the way his smirk was as sly as a cheshire cats.

“It is special. You look hot.” you giggled, embarrassment thrown out the window. You didn't even care anymore.

What did you have to lose? You never saw him anyway- as sad as it was to say, it was reality.

He leaned against the wall, his large frame seeming to cast a shadow over you, shielding you from anyone else. He bit his lip, looking you up and down, gaze lingering on every curve.

“Hot indeed.”

You smiled, doing a little twirl, letting him admire you. “Whada think Sammy?” you asked innocently, knowing his thoughts were anything but. He whistled.

“Pretty lil bunny. You’re so gorgeous, ya know that?”

Your cheeks heated at his words. He was forward and blunt tonight- you thought. Not that you minded, it was just a little out of character for him. Flirty, yes, but this forward? It must have been the alcohol.

“You’re not too bad yourself. But seriously, were you actually in town? I didn't want you to make a separate trip for me.” you hit his shoulder lightly. You could feel the muscle from under the black baggy sweater he wore.

Jesus he had bulked since you saw him last. How long had it really been?

“What and missed seeing my bunny? Never in a million years. Dean and I were just poking around, and I wanted to say hello.”

“Deans here too?” Your eyes flickered around the room, vision slightly fuzzy as you whipped around slowly to look for him, Sam's hand slipping up to cup your chin, thumb gripping your skin so you stared into his eyes.

“Yeah, but you know him. Probably fucking some college chick- who knows. I'm sure you'll see him around tonight.” he smiled softly. You nodded dumbly as if you were under some hypnotic trance.

“Yeah, yeah you're right. Hey- did you wanna head outside so we can talk? It’s loudddd in here.” you giggled. You and Sam typically used to do this at parties, both of you finding them exhausting and boring after the first two hours or so.

You often talked about random shit, whether it be deep and personal (mainly to you) or something silly while smoking weed and sprawling across him. It was just what he wanted it seemed, eager beyond belief to get you outside, all alone.

You guided him through the swarm of people, many staring you down as if you were fresh meat. You felt Sam's grip tighten as you made your way to the back door, waving at Megan and group of girls you had met earlier tonight.

The chill breeze sent goosebumps rising up and down your bare arms, past your little cufflinks. You shivered under the moonlight, letting the wind blow your hair back, tickling Sam's chest as he shut the door tight behind him, as if he wanted to keep people out.

Or you out. You couldn't tell.

“S’colder than I thought.” you hiccuped, slowly making your way over to the wooden porch steps, out of sight from the windows as you knelt down slowly to keep yourself from falling flat on your ass with a smack.

“What, you didn't drink enough to wear your alcohol jacket?” he teased, taking two long strides over to you, plopping down beside you.

“S’so did. But I’m just hyper aware of it n all, like my tits are screaming at me for letting them out on tonight of all nights.”

You couldn't stop talking. God what was wrong with you. You smacked your forehead, making Sam chuckle, running a hand through his hair.

“I can run back to the Impala and grab my jacket for you if you’d like.”

“What, your lumberman jacket? And mess up my outfit? You just want to look better than me, is that it Sammy? To woo the girls?”

His eyebrow perked. “You're the only girl I wanna woo.”

You nudged his side, insides practically screaming at you. Were you just really drunk, or was Sam Winchester- the man you had a crush on for years, legitimentluy flirting with you?

“Dont be silly.”

“I'm not being silly, I’m being truthful.”

You pursed your lips, turning your head to stre at him, instead of the acres of forest that stretched in the backyard. The wind caused the bare tree branches to rattle, hissing through the night. Not even the sound of animal stirred.

The night seemed dead and stale.

Sam was much prettier to look at instead.

“Needy. When the last time you got laid Winchester?”

He snorted, pinching your bare arm. “Ouch!” you shriked.

“Don't be mean.”

“I'm not being mean, I’m asking you truthfully. Cause I havent gotten some in forever, and it's getting old quick.” you sighed, resting an elbow on your knee, leaning your chin in your hand to support your weight.

You felt giddy and nervous as Sam slid his large hand over to carasse your thigh, fingers tickling the flesh as he allowed them to trail patterns on you.

“Yeah? Poor girl.” he cooed, pinching your skin again quickly. You wet your lips, batting your innocent, doe eyes at him as he let his hand inch towards your inner, inner thigh.

“Yeah its… rough out here.”

“No contenders? What a shame.” You giggled. “I only want one contender. Im not sure if he wants me back.” you drunkenly hicuped, his stare turning liquid, full of desire as he hungerly eyed you up and down,your eyes, your lips, your breasts.

“You think I havent noticed the way you look at me?”

You froze.

“You think I havent noticed you, for ages? Do you know how stupid it was of me, of him to let this go to waste?”

He chuckled lowly to himself. “Oh no, no no baby. It's adorable, your little crush.” he smirked, pinching your cheeks, as if you were his little doll. You felt your jaw go slack at his words.

“W-wait, so you want- I mean you like me? Too?” you asked meekly, chewing on on the inside of your cheek.

“Like you? Oh baby I’m obsessed with you. You precious little thing.”

You giggled, nudging his beefy shoulder with your own, leaning against him. “Really?” you stared up at him with stars in your eyes, feeling like a kid in a candy store.

Were you actually getting what you wanted? The thing you truly had wanted, for what seemed like eons now?

Two goals were getting checked tonight. Fuck. Yeah.

“Really.” he purred, sliding his hand down so it was practically cupping your aching and soaked heat. Your breath shuttered. “This okay?” he asked softly, and you nearly tore off your outfit right then and there.

You were about to see what Sam was like in the bedroom. Or- the outside. Wherever that may be.

You nodded, hiccuping and practically melting into him as he cupped you, making you purr like a kitten.

“G-gonna break that dry spell Winchester?” you smiled, head lolling against his fingers stroking your cunt through the flimsy fabric. “Ha. I still know a thing or too.” he purred.

“So responsive…” he murmured as you bucked your hips.

You weren't sure if it was the weed, or the shots, or the wind against your soaked cunt but you were flustered beyond belief. Before you could even process what had happened, you were flung over his shoulder, bouncing as he ran over to the security of the hidden, tucked away woods.

You squealed, clinging onto his shoulder for dear life as you watched the world become out of reach from a much higher view point. He smacked your ass and you jolted before setting you down in the woods, the crunch of leaves under your feet as you wobbled.

There was just enough moonlight you could see the boyish, michelvious glean in his eyes as he backed you against a tree, the rough bark making you shiver under his gaze as he caged you in.

“Now no one can hear you scream for me.” he smirked, cockily. You were so flustered you didn't even know where to begin. You moaned as he grabbed your ass, lifting you up to his height, lips crashing against yours with such hunger you thought he would eat you whole, a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Teeth and tongue clashed as you ran your fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands, your bunny ears long forgotten in the mess of the woods. You let your hands run across his body, feeling the hard muscle through the black fabric, before you felt something unusual.

Something sharp.

Your heart skipped a beat as his lips left swollen ones, lipgloss stained across his own, a line of spit still connecting them. He kissed your neck, biting and sucking at the exposed skin as you turned to putty.

A knife was pulled from behind his back and you shivered as he stared at you cooly, letting the blade glitter in the moonlight. You swallowed dryly.

“Is- is that real?” you asked softly. He nodded. You felt your panties dampen even more.

Fuck. So he was a freak.

He waited, as if he wanted to see how’d you react. If you’d spit in his face and call him sick and demented. But instead you wrapped your hand around his own, guiding the blade against your neck, letting it fall back- giving him further access.

His eyes widened in admiration, then amusement at your silent request.

“Oh you dirty, dirty girl. You like this shit, yeah? You like when I take control like this?”

He curved the blade, and you felt it trail down to the tops of your exposed breasts.

“I could carve something right here, y’know baby? And you're such a dumb dolly, so in love with me that you'd let me.”

You drunkenly nodded, attempting to buck and grind your hips against him. He stilled, titling the blade, as if he were to pierce it through your heart.

You felt the sting, the little drop of blood it caused.

“But I’d never hurt you baby. You’re too precious.” he hummed, eyes so dark they seemed to flicker black.

The knife dropped to the ground, his lips marking your breasts as you squirmed, grinding against him. You found his belt buckle, the cool metal deciduous against your throbbing cunt- hands struggling to unbuckle it.

“We’ll need the ropes for you next time. You're pathetic. You know that?” he gripped your chin, smooshing your cheeks. You felt tears start to well in your eyes from the pure need that was in your system, so desperate to escape you. It hurt.

“Please. Please Sammy, please-” you whimpered, making him laugh, planting a kiss to the top of your forehead.

You slid from his grip like liquid into a puddle as he unbuckled his jeans, and your mouth watered at the sight.

He was huge.

You knew he would be, but you underestimated just how huge.

All your fantasies could never compare with this. With him, and his body.

“See something you like?” he asked smugly, tugging the drapey dark fabric over his head, tossed in the brush somewhere.

Your eyes nearly fell out of their head at his V line, happy trail leading right to where you needed him most.

“Wanna suck your cock.” you mumbled bashfully, unapologetic of the free rein of your speech right now. You were past the point of shame, or embarrassment.

“What was that angel?” he smiled, hand grabbing your chin again as your knees threatened to wobble, and give out from underneath you.

Jesus he was intense. Whatever it was tonight, it was amplified.

“Wanna suck your cock please Sammy.” you begged. He cooed down at you, face pouting in faux pity.

“Awh silly baby. As much as I’d love to have you down on your knees, I have other plans for us tonight, yeah?”

You nodded dumbly as he took over, fingers sliding your bodysuit and thong to the side, running a finger through your soaked folds. He hummed, content.

“Such a soaked baby. You've been this wet for me all night?”

“Y-yeah Sammy was hoping you’d come tonight to fuck me.” you confessed.

“That so?”

“Mhmm” you nodded.

You moaned, feeling yourself buckle, hand reaching out to grip his forearm as he toyed with the bundle of nerves, making slow, steady circles at your clit.

“S-sam-”

“Hush baby. Up we go now, there we go.” He picked you back up again, freeing himself from his boxers as he angled himself right where you wanted him. Where you needed him.

“You’re gonna shut up and take my cock now, like a pretty lil slut?”

“Please-”

The feeling was euphoric. He wasted no time, sliding into you with ease, your juices coating him. The two of you moaned pornagraphically, as he inched his way further, stretching you.

He was so big you felt him in your tummy, filling you up. Swallowing you whole.

“Thereee we go, atta girl. You’re so fuckin tight bunny fuck-” he growled, forehead leaning against yours, breathing heavly. As if he was trying to control himself.

“Sam- Sam g-god-” was all you could sputter as your nails dug into his biceps as he bottomed out.

“I can- can’t” you moaned, fluttering your eyes closed. He slowly slid out, thrusting bak in deeply. You groaned.

“Hey, eyes on me.” he commanded, gripping your chin. “You can take it baby, you’re doing so good. Taking my cock like a good lil girl yeah? Arent you sweetheart?”

His dirty talk had your brain completely shut off, the wires crackling, then sputtering out. It was as if your programming had suddenly flatlined, and all you could think was Sam. Sam sam sam sam.

“So vocal. Wished I fucked you sooner baby, best pussy I’ve ever had. Y’know that? Youre all dumb for me, brain dead.” he chuckled, watching drool trickle from the side of your mouth as you screamed his name, panting.

He watched your tits bounce, with that little spot of dried up blood as he thrusted into you, harder and harder, faster and faster until you thought you were a ragdoll about to be torn in half.

“M’gonna cum-” you squealed, and he nodded, as if to grant you permission. You milked him dry, screaming so loud your voice went hoarse.

Sam continued to ride you through it, hips never faltering. “There we go baby, did that feel good? M’ all up in your tummy, and I'm gonna fill you up, kay?” he cooed, forcing your attention back on him, on his heavy gaze and despite eyes.

“K-kay Sammy please-”

He smiled, kissing you as you moaned into his mouth, hot, white liquid coating your insides as he finished inside you. You could barely catch your breath as he kissed your forehead, and each cheek tenderly.

“Fuck bunny. You were so good. So, so good.” he sighed, hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from your cheek, plastered with sweat. You nodded softly, murmuring unintelligible words as he set you back down, holding your body as you tried to find your balance.

Your legs were shaking like a quivering newborn fawn as you gripped the side of the tree, letting your eyes drift close for no more than a second.

You could no longer feel a presence supporting your back. Sam was gone.

Out of sight, under the moonlight, as if he had disappeared into the trees without a trace.

Your head started to spin, and you felt the weight of the night slowly starting to crash down on you. “S-sam?”

“I’m so sorry it had to be this way angel.” was all you heard from behind you, before a force nicked your head so hard, the world went dark.

---------------------------------------------------------------

“She asleep?” a voice called, sounding like it was eons away.

Your eyes refused to open, and you felt something tied around your ankles and wrists, as you lay on your back. Two sets of eyes were on your dishevelled frame.

You didn't dare to open your eyes until they looked away, facing to the front of the vehicle. You felt two plastic masks placed where your feet lay.

Oh god. Oh fuck. You wanted to puke.

“Knocked right out. A sleeping beauty.” another called. Sam.

“Poor bunny.” a voice chuckled, whistling a tune as he turned down the volume dial, as if he was worried to wake you. Dean.

You quickly shut your eyes again, urging yourself to keep your breathing shallow and natural as Sam looked back at your resting frame, a sympathetic frown on his face.

“Night night bunny, sweet dreams.” he cooed, before you blacked out again, in the backseat of the Impala.

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 3.

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content and mention of sex toy. It's a kinky writing challenge, so expect anything at this point, (nothing freaky, don't worry) but it's a surprise calendar so I won't spoil it! (Also, English is not my native language) Contains brief reference to Dec.1 (Sunshine)

Advent calendar includes: headcanons, snippets, one shots, imagines, blurbs etc.

Words: 900 (blurb and bullet points and a bittersweet-wholesome ending scene)

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

A/N: Woop I'm early today! Happy 3rd Advent sweeties! If you want to be tagged for the next parts, just let me know. And tell me what you think! Now enjoy! 🦊

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

3rd Dec. - Lights Out

It’s the 3rd December, Dean’s coming back from a repairing session on Baby just to find the light switch of his bunker’s bedroom not working.

“Close the door,” You command in an unusual voice of authority.

Dean’s skeptical at first, the thought of not seeing you is one thing but you know him better than that; what really makes him nervous is the fact that he’ll have no control like this - and that’s exactly your goal.

After a sultry “Come on Dean, today’s my turn to surprise you...” he finally closes the door behind him, plunging the room into complete darkness, “Babe, it’s totally dark in here, I can’t see shit…” he chuckles in mock-annoyance.

“Yeh, that’s the point of the game.” You reply with a mischievous smile on your face, “This’ll make things more interesting again.”

Now that you’ve got Dean’s attention, the thought of not being able to see at all is suddenly strangely arousing to him and he licks his lips before he replies with a warning, “Watch out you little minx, I’m gonna getcha.”

You feel excited and tingling from the lack of visual; the unpredictability and how your senses are heightened.

The sound of your or Dean’s breathing in the silence is the only help in trying to pin-point the others location

The deep and raspy voice of Dean makes you shiver as you try to guess his whereabouts

When he stands close to you, you can feel the heat of his body in the darkness

You feel the air shifting and his presence near you, the slightest change in breath or movement of him feels much more intense than usual

You can hear your own heartbeat increase, hammering in your ears

With your sense of smell heightened, his scent is almost intoxicating

You smell all the different scents that cling to him; worn leather, a hint of whiskey, a faint aroma of musk and sweat, a lingering trace of the cheap motel shampoo from the other day and a mix of motor oil from Baby, gunpowder and rock-salt.

Even though Dean knows your body like the back of his hand by now, he explores your skin with a newfound excitement now that he’s completely reliant on his other senses

You feel Dean’s calloused fingers run over your body, tracing your skin over every inch, slow and deliberate as if he was to map out the smallest detail

The first touch of his fingertips on you leave a trail of goosebumps on your entire body

You’re so hyperaware that every touch to your skin feels like a spark

You feel Dean’s stubbles graze the inside of your thighs, slowly moving upwards

Coordination is a real challenge without seeing anything and you soon find out the hard way that you need to take it slow or one of you will definitely end up knocked out

Dean accidentally knocks his knee into your ribs and you tumble over the edge of the bed with a loud groan as you both hit the ground and he lands on top of you

Dean grunts in pain as you in return give him a blow to the jaw when you jolt your head back - but despite the pain he chuckles in a little strained voice, still amused, “Careful, baby… I need my pretty face for hunting.”

“You wearin’ your pretty little gift, sunshine?” (Are you?) “Ya know, chances are, I’ll end up picking the wrong hole in this darkness,” he jokes huskily, his hands gripping and squeezing your hips as he grinds against you from behind

Every sensation feels like a surprise and ten times more intense as you rub against each other

Dean’s pleading for more as he can’t anticipate any of your next moves and only feels your hot breath on his thighs and cock

Dean moans as loud as ever when your lips just as much as graze the tip of his cock

Dean pulls you back by the foot as you try to hide from him

Dean pins your wrists or ankles down, in a desperate attempt to keep some form of control

Dean’s surprisingly sensual and slow going as he pounds into you, both of his hands constantly running up and down your sides

Dean teases you by stopping mid-motion once every thrust, enjoying the small whimpers of you as you can’t anticipate his next harder thrust that makes you whine and tremble

Meanwhile he maps out your body with wet kisses and tongue swipes while he listens to your smallest change of breath and increasing moans

Time seems to stand still as you both fall over the edge with the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had

The experience leaves both of you dizzy, exhausted and panting as you crawl on top of Dean to rest your head on his chest, his heart beating against your ear.

Snuggled up to his chest, Dean thinks you’ve finally fallen asleep. He strokes your hair gingerly, his chin resting on your head when his features grow pensive and he murmurs against your hair, “Ya know…I’m attracted to you like a moth to light. I’ve always been. That’s why I believe we’ll always find back to each other, even in the darkest times… My own little sunshine.”

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Tags:

@deaniemyboo @deansjacket @literallylexa

[fraugwinska]

Dude, i had an idea out of nowhere, and in my head it's so funny for no reason ☠️☠️ So, you know that theres like, that canon drawing that Alastor made for Angel's birthday?

((https://twitter.com/HazbinHotel/status/1642135435085217793?t=U6Kzncfye-QAjtJYy8R23A&s=19) This one)

So like, imagine that is Alastor's S/o birthday, and he decided to make her a drawing like that ☠️ idk it's weirdly funny in my head

So - a few things need to be said.

1. I know that Alastor canonically likes to doodle, and ever since episode 1 we really know just how awfully funny these doodles are.

2. what I didn't know was what the hell you were talking about, so I looked it up and... my god. The snorts I snaughted, the wheezes I whoze, the cackles I cuckled. He may be a 'gentleman', he may try to behave cordial and appear classy, but Doodle-Artist-Alastor is a fucking menace, no filter and so snappy, holy shit.

3. Now, for my highly professional opinion (*cough cough*) of what would happen if you, Alastor's s/o, would get a picture like this as a birthday gift. In front of everyone.

❤️ You agreed on celebrating your birthday, as redundant as you thought it was, only under the condition that no one would buy you a gift. If they wanted to hand you a present, you wanted it to be a small, handmade thing, valuing their time and thought behind it much more than the actual thing.

❤️ Everyone would hold true to this request, and the gifts you get match the giver perfectly.

❤️ Charlie and Vaggie crafted together, handing you a bejeweled jewelry box covered in glitter glue and snippets of photos they had taken of you and the gang over the time you were guest in the hotel.

❤️ Niffty, being both skilled in sewing and the chaos gremlin she is, presents you with a abysmal looking pile of different, sewn-together fabrics. You turn and twist it in your hands, thanking her without knowing what it is, until you find a golden snap lock hidden in the masses of layers. It's a very inconvenient coin purse.

❤️ Opening Angels gift has everyone holding their breath - preparing for something phallic, kinky or lewd. instead, you squeal as you pack a crochet version of Fat Nuggets, including his stubby little horns. Angels smug expression at the sheer surprise at his very unusual (and unexpected) talent of the gang quickly turns to a sweet smile as you crush him with your hug, telling him how much you love it.

❤️ Husk's gift for you is nothing corporeal. Instead, he announces he'd teach you one of his many magic tricks he often did for your sheer delight at your many evenings at the bar. He blushes a bit when you thank him with a kiss on his cheek.

❤️ Alastor would wait to be the last one to present his gift - it's known the best is always saved for last. He hands you a large envelope. Curiously you open it, careful not to tear it, and pull out a thick sheet of paper

❤️ Five heads hang over your shoulder, five pairs of eyes widen at the sight: The paper is full of scribbled doodles, a crude, macabre looking version of yourself in the middle, around it splatters of what looks like blood, grinning faces, and scribbled words: cutie pie - talks in her sleep - MINE MINE MINE - I love Alastor (in a speech bubble over your head)

❤️ Reactions would be mixed, Charlie would find it weirdly adorable, Niffty would point out anything she likes with bashful giggles, Vaggie would be as disturbed as Husk, while Angel would make fun of it, laughing while mocking the quality of the drawing.

❤️ you however, would be torn between genuine laughter and earnest emotionality you've never received something handmade from Alastor. He'd often shower you in little tokens of care, a bouquet of flowers, a new necklace, a dress or a scarf he's seen at Rosie's. You found it not only endearing, the thought of him, dressed in his pompous attire sitting at his bureau, drawing this made your heart ache with affection.

❤️ Quietly staring at the picture, Alastor would interpret your silence as veiled ridicule, and vanish into shadows, retreating. He had failed, his gift shown to be juvenile and lacking. Sulking, he would avoid you for the rest of the evening, only returning to your shared room when night already fell and everyone was fast asleep

❤️ He would find you in deep slumber, cheeks a bit puffy and shimmering from trails of dried tears. He'd tilt his head in curiosity, wondering what would've possibly made you cry, then he sees it - his painting, clutched in your hands and pressed to your heart.

❤️ He'd hurry to change for the night, scolding himself for drawing hast conclusions - he should know you better. When he gently pulls the paper from you to set it aside, youd awake, reaching out to him, starting to apologize for not giving him an appropriate reaction.

❤️ alastor would shush you, slipping into bed with you, and give you your other, much more intimate present.

[varlaisvea]

"We have mixed marriages and gay and lesbian characters in abundance throughout the game," Slavicsek tells TheGamer. "It just makes sense to us that all possibilities exist in Tamriel. We treat it as a real and living world. You just might not notice because we don't shout it from the rooftops or put signs proclaiming it everywhere. And you know why? Because in Tamriel, this is just the way the world is. No character in the world blinks an eye or thinks there's anything unusual about meeting the baker and his husband, the serving woman and her wife, or to have Naryu and Jakarn flirt with you, regardless of your character's gender. And that's not even mentioning Alchemy, the three Living Gods of the Tribunal, or the Daedric Princes who can appear as any gender they so desire! It's part of the world and so it's no big deal."

(link) (cw transphobia- article is a response to dorks who are butthurt re: the new nonbinary companion.)

This! This is what made me write ESO fanfic, when I’d never written fic with original characters before.

Because as a nonbinary bisexual ~woman on T? I fucking noticed! I noticed ESO’s Tamriel is a world I could exist in without friction. Where no one cares about your gender presentation or who you’re attracted to—where it doesn’t even occur to anyone to care about it. Where there wouldn’t even need to be pride, or queerness at all, because there is no one thing that’s seen as normal or correct. I love my queerness of course, but ultimately, I want to live in a world where I don’t need it, because the way I am is simply one of infinite ways a person can be.

It also means there is no sexual shame. People aren’t weird about sex or the things they enjoy sexually. There’s nothing strange about polyamorous relationships and nothing kinky about men who like being dominated by women. Sex work is not stigmatized or dangerous. No one feels shame about being horny or wanting sex. Sex is a private thing but it’s also not particularly taboo to discuss. I want to live in a world like that, too.

They don’t say it in the article, but the major reason the world can be this way is that they’ve done a thorough and meticulous job of deleting structural misogyny from existence. And as the quote says, you don’t even notice a lot of the time, but once you see it, you can’t unsee it. It makes me feel like a world without patriarchy and gender oppression could exist, and we wouldn’t even miss it.

RPGs are all about making you feel like you fit into the world. I’m tumblr-old; I’ve been playing video games for longer than some of my mutuals have been alive, and ESO’s Tamriel is the first RPG world I have encountered where I could actually feel myself fitting in. This is why I’m really hopeful about TES VI: don’t care where or when the game takes place, or what the Hero Mythology is; if they keep doing this? I’m in.

[accio-victuuri]

5/16/24 LRLG post + interpretations ❤️💛💚

so it’s not enough that we’ve been struggling for the past days, they really put meaning to the saying of “when it rains it pours”. at least they let people sleep and then released this in the morning. it is an unusual posting time cause it’s usually evening or even late like 1:00 AM but not this early.

original link from the rumor house is here. i will omit some parts and just explain what happens but i tried to preserve the integrity of the post. all of this is fake. if i missed some cpn related to this, feel free to comment or just reblog and add on. enjoy ^^

XZ: "Do I have to buy the flowers myself? I can't spend hundreds of dollars."

WYB: “You don’t need to buy it and use it at home. The bottle is also pretty.”

XZ: 🙄

WYB: “Your skills are really top-notch now.”

XZ: "Why don't you try to be more yin and yang?"

WYB: "Well done. Well done."

XZ: “Don’t let me go if you don’t have any symptoms”

WYB: "You know if I have a fart or not, I'm so awesome."

XZ: "gun"

WYB: 😘

XZ: "There is also gas in the mouth"

WYB: 🙄

XZ: "Hey, your skills are also top-notch."

WYB: “I can’t compare to you, but practice makes perfect”

XZ: “It’s boring.

WYB: “Come and play”

XZ: "If you don't want to play, you won't come from xx"

👧: "Looking for me, I won't delay the fun of you two"

WYB: "Then shall we leave?"

👧: “I also know that practice makes perfect”

WYB: “Excuse me”

XZ: "Whose number should I use?"

WYB: "I'll log in for you

Yibo really be buying useless stuff again. lol. I can only imagine him scrolling through shopping apps in between takes and ordering everything. Thank you ZZ for being the voice of reason. LOL. and them complementing each other’s skills in gaming, even the log-in, we think is for the game. && how they are trolling each other talking about gas/fart, it’s so them 😂😂😂😂

the part about the kiss emoji makes us think that wyb kissed xz but then xz had to comment like that lol and be a gremlin 😂😂😂

i saw one guess that the bottle/vase he is talking about where you can put flowers may be a souvenir from abroad that wyb gave him

WYB: XZ believes in Buddhism and doesn’t believe in anything.”

XZ: “Watch me assist”

WYB: "You are not playing support role."

XZ: "Okay, I won't go even if you call me daddy."

WYB: “Don’t help, you still have to help”

No but seriously i will pay good money to watch them livestream a game lol. to those who are not familiar of why XZ was saying “call me daddy”, it’s a common quip among people. kinda like saying “im your father” cause i’m helping you and more superior than you— nothing kinky okay?

WYB: “Where did the cat come from?”

WYB: "Can I not hear it when it’s meowing at me? "

WYB: "What to record"

WYB: “So where did the cat come from?”

WYB: “Questioning you on behalf of 🌰🌰”

WYB: “Oh, great shooting”

people are thinking it’s this chonky cat that xz got attached to

and all of us are cackling at how wyb is “asking for 🌰🌰” because his dad is being a traitor and looking at other cats! 😤😤😤 yibo is so loyal to their daughter lol

WYB : super cold, i’ll eat a fried egg for you in awhile

WYB: look closely, i’m going to eat one for you (fried egg = sun that just appeared ☀️)

WYB: i ate it too early, it’s not fully cooked yet

WYB: sure, i’ll wait for you to eat a cooked one

i swear their conversations don’t make sense unless you have some background. cpfs are saying here that it means, wyb gave xz a fried egg ☀️ and then xz ate a cooked egg, the way he did it in that milan vlog

and like, if we are talking about a literal egg, that was featured as well in the Milan vlog 🍳 so could that be a bit for bobo? a literal easter egg? lol.

next part is bobo asking xz why doesn’t it look the same to him and how xz hasn’t responded to the group chat. and how he will call him later 📲

them having a gc is not even a secret but just 🥹🥹 that must be one hell of a group chat to be in.

WYB: “How was the restaurant you ate at last time? Let's go there when Zhan ge comes."

🧔‍♂️: "Their ribs are amazing, but the chops are not as good as they should be. Why don't we order one for you tonight and try it?"

i won’t include this part anymore but it’s a conversation between yibo and members of his staff about food and what to eat. i love how wyb is always thinking about xz when he sees something that is good to eat. feeding xz is really his love language. i’m cackling how they are conscious about the carbs to eat. planning what and where to eat with your loved one seems so simple but really special too. there were talks about fruits, which we know what xz is fond of eating in CQL BTS. ( sorry for the screenshot lol xiao zhan i love youuuu. you have no bad angle! )

there was also a part that wyb was telling them to buy blueberries and the staff is like: "Just tell me what you want to eat and I'll give you whatever you want" but yibo was all "Let's see what he wants to eat" 🥹🥹🥹 it all depends on XZ.

and then this scene in the wedgwood ad. which is most likely a coincidence. but still 👀

WYB: “Look at this big pot”

XZ: Saw it

WYB: "I won't let you try the dishes in advance."

XZ: "If you want to eat, just say so and don't take the blame."

👧: Boss Xiao, we have already eaten it.”

XZ: "Grateful and thankful"

WYB: "Why are you so happy?"

XZ: You guys are going to have another meal in two days.

WYB: ☺️☺️🤭☺️🥰🥰🥰😍😍😍

XZ: "Eat quickly and fight again when you get back."

WYB: “🫡Received”

XZ: "Idiot, hang up, bye"

WYB: "Bye"

with this fake rumor i feel so soft cause having a meal together is something they look forward to. i especially loved this comment from a cpf which u think perfectly explain why this romantic: But I especially understand how dad feels. . . When you are in a long-distance relationship, if you already have a date for your next meeting, you will really feel like you don’t want to taste the delicious food you want to eat with you before meeting! Just like "I want to share the surprise of the first bite with you" is the real thing. I only want to taste one-fifth of the taste. I want to wrap this little bit of deliciousness with the anticipation of seeing you soon. I want to see you soon. I have been stuffed to the brim these last few days, so that the day I see you I will explode with happiness!” 🥹🥹🥹

next part is wyb talking to a staff about eating and then this one, yibo! give your assistant a vacation! and well the boss is not taking a vacation too sooooo….

👧: “When can I take a vacation?”

WYB: "Anytime, if you have anything to do, just take a break."

👧: “Want to take a big vacation”

WYB: “It’s early then”

👧: “This year’s Qingming Festival and May Day are all in vain”

WYB: "Have arrangements been made for May Day?"

and the final part of the rumor contribution:

WYB: "Where"

WYB: “Okay, be safe.”

WYB: "I don't have time to ask you to keep the fake house.

WYB: "good"

-END

[alloftheimaginesblog]

something different {Steve Harrington SMUT}

Plot: Steve overhears a conversation between you and Nancy in which you wish that he'd mix it up in the bedroom as you're getting a bit tired with the soft, slow sex.

Character: Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, smut, rough sex, spanking, praise kink (good girl), being called a slut, unprotected sex, creampie, choking, slight breeding kink, oral (male receiving)

He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, honestly. He was about to join the two of you when he heard his name and decided to just listen to this part of the conversation. Okay so he did mean to eavesdrop but he never realised what he would be eavesdropping on.

"I just... I don't know, Nancy, there's just something missing." Steve frowned.

"Are you and Steve not getting along?"

"No we are, I feel our relationship is the best it's been," he smiled, "but-" his smile fell, "it's the sex." Steve's jaw dropped. The sex? His mind whirred and he almost leapt around the corner but he had a little self-control left. The sex was amazing! Steve had never had any complaints before so what was going on? He craned his head to listen again as the conversation continued.

"Is it not... good?"

You sighed, "It's good, it is. He does it right, takes time to get me off you know... But it's just... I feel like it's always kind of the same. I'm getting tired of the same soft, gentle, loving sex. I want... more." Oh. His eyebrows quirked upwards in surprise. He really hadn't been expecting you to hit out with that.

"You're wanting something... not gentle?" Nancy giggled.

"Yeah... I keep thinking about what if he was a little rougher, you know? I don't know... Steve's my first so I don't have experience of it but I think I'd like to give it a go..." You were stressed, Steve could tell by the tone of your voice, "I don't know how to tell him without coming across as though I hate our normal sex. I love our sex, I really do, and I'd happily be with him the rest of my life if it was just going to be soft sex but... I want that hot, animal, fiery sex, you know?"

"Have you spoken to him about it?"

You shook your head, "I don't want to hurt his feelings." Steve's feelings weren't hurt, he wished that you felt comfortable enough talking to him about it as opposed to Nancy but he understood. Sex was still a relatively new thing for you so he got that it could still be u uncomfortable to talk about. He also understood what was going to happen as soon as the two of you were home.

"I think you should tell him," Nancy said, "Just explain what you've said to me that you'd want to try something new and that it's nothing against him personally. Just explain it exactly the way you've explained it to me. I don't think he'd be mad or offended that way."

Content with what he heard, Steve rounded the corner with a wide smile, "Hello, ladies!" He would pretend that he'd heard nothing, pretend that everything was fine.

The entire time that you, Steve and Nancy were out, Steve couldn't stop thinking about what he was going to do to you when you were home. He honestly just assumed you wouldn't be into rougher, more dominating sex so that's why he hadn't done it yet but knowing that you wanted a bit more from him, his mind reeled with the possibilities that lay ahead.

He would've preferred that you had spoken to him about it first but he understood that you were anxious about it. He understood that if the right words weren't chosen, he could've been upset so he knew that you'd only shared with Nancy to get some advice on how to properly word it. However now knowing that you would want something a little rougher, a little more kinky... Steve was fully prepared to give you it.

The drive home, Steve was unusually silent which made you feel like something was going on. You'd tried to get it out of him but to no avail, "I'll tell you when we're home," he kept saying. You knew that something was on his mind but you couldn't figure out what.

Unbeknownst to you, it was you that was on his mind. You and what he was going to do to do when home. Even just thinking about it, thinking about roughing you up a little bit turned Steve on. He shifted in his seat trying to ignore the stirring in his jeans. He'd wait until you were home and then he'd pounce.

You were a little too preoccupied with your previous conversation with Nancy to be overly concerned about his silence. When you got home you would explain it to him carefully and kindly. You loved Steve and you loved the sex the two of you had but you just hoped he wouldn't be offended or upset.

"Kneel," he demanded with a raise of his eyebrow, "or do I need to punish you?"

"Punish me?" You scoffed, "What the hell-"

"I said kneel, (y/n)." The look in his eyes was dark and despite yourself, you could feel heat building between your legs. Was this meant to be kinky? Your heart began to quicken... had he overheard your conversation with Nancy? Surely not... right?

"Fine, I guess you want to be a bad girl today," he rolled his sleeves up, "Bend over." He was serious? You frowned at him but quickly your frown turned to one of intrigue.

"Steve-"

Steve tugged at your waist, pulling you closer to him before guiding you a few steps to the wall, "Hands on the wall." Still confused but getting more turned on by the second, you complied, "Good girl-" a shiver ran down your spine at the praise. Steve pulled you by the hips so that your ass jutted out a bit and then, without warning, smack!

You gasped, throwing your head back to look at him, "Wha-"

Smack!

He was spanking you hard but the fabric of your jeans took the brunt of the pain, all you really got was a shock when he did it. Heat pooled between your legs, if you hadn't been wet before now, you were surely soaked. He had never done anything like this. Yeah, he would grab your ass or smack it in passing gently but not this...

Smack!

"Is my girl done being bad now?" The look in his eyes drove you crazy. The way you were looking at him, cheeks flushed, eyelashes fluttering and biting your lip, Steve was already rock hard in his jeans. Quickly, you nodded, "Good." He pulled you up and backed you into the wall, "If you want me to stop, if I go too far and you don't like it, you tell me; say stop. Got it?" You nodded again, "Use your words, babygirl."

"If I want you to stop... I'll tell you to stop."

"Good girl," he whispered, enjoying seeing the way you bit your lip harder, "this is what you've been wanting isn't it?" His hands masterfully had already unbuttoned your jeans and were pushing them down your legs before you'd even realised, "All this time, you've wanted to be roughed up a bit, hm?" Once your jeans were off, his hand snaked to your neck, "You just want to be treated like a real slut, don't you?"

"Fuck."

Steve grinned at your reactions before he kissed you hard, giving your neck a little squeeze. Your body felt like it was on fire, alive and aglow, from his mere touch. You melted into his kiss but all too soon, he was pulling away and demanding that you strip the rest of your clothes off.

You pouted.

Steve raised his eyebrows, "Why aren't you doing what you're told?"

"You're fully dressed, not fair if I'm naked."

Steve's hand wrapped around your neck again, squeezing tighter though not cutting off your oxygen supply, "Be a good girl and I'll reward you..." He dropped his grip and immediately, you began to strip for him, "Slower, I want to enjoy this."

Your cheeks were hot, as nerves and arousal bubbled in your stomach, and slowly, you began to strip for Steve. Of course he'd seen you naked so many fucking times but this? This felt different. His eyes were dark with desire as he watched your every movement, drinking in every single curve of your body. He loved it - fuck, he should've done this sooner with you. First, you pulled off your t-shirt, throwing it to the side before you dropped your bra to the floor and then your panties. Steve was on you in an instant.

"Such a good girl," he whispered in your ear, "think it's time for your reward, hm?" You nodded quickly and he smiled, lifting his hand up to you and nudging your lips apart with two fingers, "Get them nice and wet, babygirl..."

You almost couldn't believe this was all actually happening. Steve was being dominant, leading you exactly the way you wanted. Slowly, you opened your mouth, taking his fingers into your mouth and bobbing your head up and down slightly, tongue whirling around them making sure they were coated in saliva. You never once broke eye contact with Steve and it was then you felt him against you, rock hard erection through his jeans pressed against your thigh, and it became so apparent to you how much he too was enjoying this. Steve took a deep breath, trying to get himself under control, before taking his fingers from your mouth and sliding his hand down your body until he reached your already soaking wet sex.

He smirked when his fingers teased your entrance, "You're already so wet for me, baby," he mused, "Fuck, you really wanted this, huh?" You nod quickly finding that words were too hard because then that meant you had to think and all you could think about was how much you wanted Steve deep inside of you, "Ready for me?" Again, you nodded, "Words, babygirl."

"P-Please," you choked out, hand curling around Steve's muscled bicep and squeezing, "Please."

"This desperate for my fingers, how desperate will you be for my cock, hm?" He laughed and the humility only turned you on more. You liked hearing him talk like this. This was so different and so fucking hot and you were putty in his hands and then just as you were about to complain, he pushed past your slickness and pushed into your cunt.

You gasped as pleasure immediately coursed through you and your other hand grabbed at Steve's hand which had wrapped around your neck. His head ducked, taking your nipple in his mouth, tongue swirling around the tender bud as you moans grew louder and louder. He didn't have to try hard to get you to reach your high, Steve knew your body so well. He knew exactly how to get you off and it was mere seconds from your high when he pulled his fingers out of you.

"Steeeeve," you whined, panting as he laughed darkly at you, "I was- so close- please-"

"Not until I give you permission," he said, "I've been thinking about what you said and you're right... It's not fair that you're naked and I'm still dressed. Undress me."

Gladly.

Quickly, needing to feel his skin under your fingers, you began to pull his shirt upwards, throwing it to the opposing side of the room before moving to his jeans, "Ah, ah," he said with a shake of the head, "on your knees."

Licking your lips, you tried to hide your smile, you dropped to your knees. You didn't want to show him just how much you were enjoying all of this but he could tell. Your lack of resistance, your dilated eyes, your breath... the tells were all there. You were fucking loving this. You looked up at him with fluttering eyelashes and he groaned softly, "Well?" He asked, "Undress me." You began to pull his jeans down over the large bulge making sure to brush against his rock hard cock a few times to tease him. Steve kicked them off and then all that was left were his boxers. Agonisingly slowly, you pulled them down, "Hurry the fuck up," he grunted, "I want to feel that slutty mouth on my cock-" Taking him by surprise, you pulled them down quickly allowing his erection to spring free, bobbing in front of your face before you wrapped your hand around it and took the head in your mouth, "Jesus-" he hissed.

You moved your head up and down his length but it wasn't enough for him, he moved his hands to the back of your head, "If it's too much, tap my leg three times. If you want to stop, tap out, okay?" He pulled your head back, gripping at your hair, a ribbon of saliva still attached to your lip, "Got it?"

"Y-Yes-"

"Good girl," he pushed your head back onto his throbbing cock before slowly pushing your head down so that you were taking his whole length in your mouth. Steve's cock was thick and you didn't know if you could take it all before you would begin to gag and as Steve kept pushing, you gagged a few times quickly tapping out. Steve released you immediately, you coughed, eyes filling but not from crying rather just from choking, "Are you alright?"

"Choked," you said, catching your breath, "M'okay."

"You want to stop-"

"I want to try again," you said, staring up at him with big eyes, "please."

He grinned, wiping the tear that was in the corner of your eye, "So eager to please, I love it."

You both resumed, him guiding your head down onto the length and you now managing your breathing better so that you wouldn't choke. You gagged a few times, which only spurred Steve on, but didn't choke again thankfully. The gagging caused tears to spill but you blinked them away, mascara tracks smudging your cheeks.

"You look so beautiful like this," Steve said, his free hand coming to caress your cheek, "all mine."

He pulled your head back, allowing you time to breathe before you were once again being bobbed up and down on his cock though faster and not as deep so you weren't gagging. Steve stared down at you with hungry eyes, biting his lip as he breathed hard. Seeing you like this, feeling you quicker and sloppier on his cock, he could've came then and there but he pulled your head back and grabbed at your arms, pulling you onto your feet, "Couch, now."

"I- I wasn't finished-" In all honesty, you were enjoying having him pump your head on his cock too much. Letting him have that control was so hot. You enjoyed how sloppy it was getting, saliva running down your chin onto your bare breasts. When Steve stood you up, you could tell he enjoyed it too.

He raised his eyebrows, coming close to you, towering over your smaller frame, "Do what you're told."

Something stirred in your stomach and you felt yourself straightening your stance wiping your chin, "No."

"That's it," Steve growled, pushing you forwards slightly, you hadn't realised you were right next to the couch so you fell forwards, catching yourself on the arm of the couch but Steve had a plan and pushed on your back so that your arms buckled and you fell face first into the couch cushions.

Smack!

The shock made you let out a yelp of surprise. This spank was harder, tingles were left in its place, "Bad girls get punished, I told you, babygirl."

"Hardly a punishment when I like it," you said but your words were muffled by the pillow.

Smack!

"Talking back to me, slut?" He growled, taking a handful of your hair and pulling your head up, "What did you say?"

"It's not a punishment because I-"

Smack!

"Fuck!" You hissed, the sting making your body twist away from him< "I-I like-"

Smack!

"I like it!" You gasped. The sensation was painful but the arousal of it overpowered any sort of pain. The pain was gone within seconds anyway replaced by a buzzing, tingling sensation. Steve's hand caressed your ass before smacking it once more.

"You like it, huh? What about this?"

He released your hair, making you fall back into the pillows, before he lined his cock up with your hot cunt and pushed fully into it. You hadn't expected him yet and your reaction was the hottest thing in the world to Steve; your head whipped to the side, mouth open as your eyes rolled back and you let out the sexiest sound he'd ever heard.

"You like that more, mm?"

You nodded, words once again too hard to comprehend, and pushed your ass into him, urging him to give you more. Steve was eager to give you more but he thought he would tease you a little bit first. He moved slowly, thrusts slow and gentle, "Don't you like this more, babygirl? Nice and slow like normal?"

You shook your head, "More, p-please!"

"How about you tell me what you want? Not your friends, me. Tell me how you want it."

"I-I want you fuck me, Steve," you groaned out, "I want it hard and rough and I want you to give me more- I need more, Steve. I can handle it- I won't break- I need more... Fuck me, Steve!"

No going back now.

"Good girl."

With that, he began to thrust into your hard, over and over, filling you entirely with his thick cock before pulling out and repeating the process. You couldn't stop the noises that came from you; high pitched and animal like. It was fast and hard and every few thrusts, Steve spanked your ass. You'd never felt this good before, he'd never felt this good. The way he filled you made the coil in your stomach tighten more and more and you knew that you would be cumming so soon.

Steve groaned as he spanked you again, "So fucking perfect," he said, thrusting with each word, "all mine."

"S-Steve," you whined between moans, "I'm- I'm going to-"

All of a sudden, he pulled himself out of you and you screamed out in frustration. He keeps denying you orgasm right as you're about to let go. You need to cum, you need that sweet release.

"Not yet," Steve growled before moving around the couch, "On your back," he demanded and quickly, even despite your annoyance at being denied an orgasm again, you comply. You turn around, head at the arm of the couch now, and immediately, your legs wrap around him.

"Please," you whimpered, "need-need to cum-"

"Sh, babygirl," he whispered before pushing his length into you once more, "You can cum, I just want to see you cum under me."

The pace quickened and - "Holy fuck, Steve!" - having him fuck you this way feels deeper, if that's even possible. He grinned down at you as your coil begins to tighten again. Your hands shot out, grabbing onto his biceps and shoulders, nails digging in tightly, and your hips began to automatically lift to meet his thrusts. Steve groaned, feeling himself almost at his peak too.

"You gonna cum for me, babygirl?" He panted with that dark glint in his eye, "Look at me- don't stop looking at me." You opened your eyes, vision slightly hazy, and find his piercing eyes as that coil in your stomach tightens and tightens. Steve's hand wraps around your neck, squeezing.

And then, all at once, you reach that high; that blissful cortex of pleasure as you began to come undone beneath him. Your hips lose all sense of rhythm and just grind into Steve's cock haphazardly extracting as much pleasure from him as you could. You tried your hardest to stay focused on Steve and keep your eyes open but it's all too much and you can't help your eyes rolling and arching your back, head tilting to look behind you.

Everything is tingly, your limbs feel heavy, and every sense is overwhelmed and it's only when you're falling back down from your high that the noises you'd been hearing, those high pitched yells and screams, they were coming from you.

Hazily, you blink up at Steve who's grinning down at you, "You're so fucking beautiful," he whispers, leaning down to kiss you, "and you're all mine."

"I-I want you- I want you to cum," you pant, "You-Your turn."

"Look at you," he muses, "so cock dumb you can barely form a sentence. Seeing you like this... Fuck, should've done this a lot sooner. You want my cum, babygirl?"

You start to feel alert again and your hips begin to rock in time with him, "Please, Steve, I need it."

"You know," he says, lips trailing lazy kisses across your neck, "I cum inside you, you're mine."

"M'already yours-"

"No," he growls darkly, "I cum in you, you're mine. Just mine." The possessiveness in his voice and in his eyes reignites yet another fire in your stomach, "Mine forever. I claim you- breed you-"

"Yours," you're nodding quickly, "I want to be yours-"

"Yeah?"

"Claim me, Steve," you beg him, pulling him up to look into your eyes, "Make me yours forever." He kisses you hotly and it isn't long before he breaks away to hide in the nape of your neck, moaning, as his own thrusts grow sloppy and then he does one final thrust and you feel his warmth flood into you. He stills and the two of you stay panting, limbs entangled, for a minute before slowly, he pulls out of you and flops onto the couch beside you. It's a tight fit and you end up half on his sticky body but you're too tired to care.

It's a while before either of you speak, both too exhausted from the sex to do anything, but it's Steve who speaks eventually, "How was that?"

You nod into his chest.

"I need words, babygirl."

"Best sex ever."

Steve laughs, making your head bounce on his chest, "Yeah?"

You nod again, "So good."

"I wasn't too rough? Didn't go too far?"

"No," you prop your head on his chest, "Perfect."

He smiles, wiping a stray piece of your hair behind your ear, "Next time you want to try something in bed, instead of telling Nancy, tell me, yeah? I won't be offended. I just want to please you, want to make you feel good."

"Noted," your head falls back on his chest, "now that you mention it... There is one thing I've always wanted to try."

Steve smirks, "Give me ten minutes and we'll try it."

[scuttling]

I Can Handle Me A Dangerous Man - Ch 5

Fandom: True Blood (TV) Pairings: Eric Northman/Female Reader or Eric Northman/OFC Word Count: 5,408 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Masturbation, D/s situations Summary: Supernatural snooping or nearly dating? You decide!

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

Her employment is uneventful in comparison for the next few weeks, and her skills are mostly utilized to flush out undesirable customers from the bar. Part of her thinks this is on purpose, because of the accidental escalation of her last project, but she doubts the small misstep was enough to worry Eric in any real way.

When he invites her to a vampire gathering, at the request of one of his friends, she’s happy to jump at the opportunity. Too many of her nights have been spent smelling stale beer and listening to repetitive, pulsing trance music played too loud for comfort. Pam had rolled her eyes when she noticed Cam wearing earplugs, but she could still hear thoughts just fine.

“I’d like you to mingle with the companions and let me know if something seems off. Melanie fears her pet has been hiding something from her,” Eric says as they walk into the foyer of a grand house about forty-five minutes from Cam’s apartment. Cam, clad in tight black pants and a lace top—the perfect accompaniment to Eric’s black v-neck sweater and jeans—lifts a brow, confused.

“Melanie’s… pet.” Cam trails off when she follows Eric’s gaze; she spots a dark haired vampire looping a finger through the O-ring of a woman’s collar necklace and pulling her in for a kiss, and everything makes a lot more sense. “Right. You got it. Listening for anything unusual, shady, secret related from the pet,” she clarifies. Eric looks down at her, seems concerned.

“Does their partnership make you uncomfortable? I should have asked.” Cam shakes her head, unsure if he’s inquiring because they’re both female or because one is clearly submissive toward the other. Either way, it’s not a problem for her.

“No, not at all. I was just… With vampires, you know, you guys use some different words that aren’t always natural for me: Maker, Sire, child,” she explains. She gestures, a small, private wave of her hand, at Melanie and her pet. “This relationship seems like something I actually understand.” There’s a long beat of silence between them before she continues, curious. “Do vampires ever enjoy being submissive?” 

That earns a soft laugh from Eric, and he guides her over to a staffed bar and orders drinks for each of them.

“Our tastes vary just as humans do,” he tells her as they wait. His eyes linger over her lips, and it makes her stomach feel pleasantly hollow. “What do you enjoy?” he asks, his voice low, and when the bartender places the martini glass in front of her she takes it, shakes her head as she sips.

“Oh no, I haven’t had nearly enough to drink to go there with you,” she says, patting him on the chest. “You go chat with the vampire daddies, I’ll keep my third ear open.” 

“And I’ll keep an eye on you,” he promises in a way that makes her body feel warm. She turns and walks away from him, not looking back but hoping like hell he’s watching her as she goes.  For an hour or so, Cam makes her way around the room, introducing herself to so many interesting people, professors and artists and scientists all entwined in one type of kinky relationship or another. Some are partnered, some are looking, some are poly, so partnered and looking; when Eric presses his palm to her back and she turns to face him, she exhales deeply, relieved that for a moment she doesn’t have to keep all the names and preferences and dynamics straight.

With vampires, but especially with Eric, her mind is always perfectly at ease.

“How are you doing?” he leans in to ask her, but he’s not looking at her; his gaze is locked on someone behind her, over her head. She turns to try to figure out who he’s staring at.

“So far so good — nothing but adoration from Melanie’s pet over there. That guy looks unhappy,” she says when she spots the offender who’s got Eric’s attention, a large, burly, bearded man who is scowling at Eric just as hard as he’s scowling back. She turns back to Eric, and he finally looks down at her, his eyes softening.

“It’s nothing,” he says at first, but one impatient sigh has him backtracking, remembering their agreement to be more transparent with one another, no doubt. “His name is Randolph. He’s not pleased with me,” Eric admits, and Cam moves closer, her voice quiet.

“Why, what have you done?” It’s clear by his expression that he doesn’t want to tell her, but he presses on anyway.

“He wonders why I haven’t claimed you yet,” he murmurs, leaning in. “He believes I don’t belong here, that I’m trying to force my way in for political reasons, and I think he doubts my cover story.” 

“That I’m a hot little thing you picked up at Fangtasia and I’m glamoured and enamored like a schoolgirl with a crush?” Cam teases, because she’s been reduced to that stereotype countless times, as someone who does business with vampires. Eric sighs.

“That you’re my…  I don’t like pet,” he says, and realization washes over her. Slowly, she nods her head.

“Oh. Vampire daddy thinks you’re my vampire daddy.” She’s embarrassed to admit that saying that sends a thrill through her, that being anything of Eric’s sounds like something she could be interested in. His eyes flash back to Randolph.

“Yes. He thinks I’m courting you, but I’ll bet he propositions you before the night is over, to test your loyalty to me.” 

Instantly, Cam is not happy with that projected schedule of events. It’s not even about loyalty, it’s… she doesn’t like the thought of flirting with anyone but Eric, here, though she can’t quite decide when that became something she even bothered to contemplate. She’s enjoying their closeness, in a back-burner kind of way, and she can’t imagine being this close to Randolph—or anyone—without being uncomfortable.

“Can you stop him from doing that without making a scene?” she asks, pressing closer, suddenly feeling uncertain for the first time at this otherwise very enjoyable party. Eric groans a little.

“I don’t think so. He’s not a sheriff, but he is powerful,” he admits. “Do you want him?” he murmurs, like he’d sacrifice his reputation and let her go off with this Randolph if that’s what she'd actually prefer. Without second thought, she shakes her head.

“I do not, no.” 

“Then perhaps I should get you out of here and we can give Melanie our regrets at a later time.” He looks down at her like he’s waiting for her input, and she remembers Melanie, who was so sweet to her when she introduced herself, so kind to invite them, and exhales. 

“Give me five more minutes, okay? I just want to touch the pet so I can be totally sure of her motivations.” 

“Okay,” he says, sounding like he would have preferred she ask for anything but, and she pats him on the arm and heads across the room to read the memories of Melanie’s significant other.

As she’d expected, the pet is deeply devoted to and in love with Melanie, although she did uncover a secret that should put the vampire at ease. She makes her way around the room, dodging Randolph, and she smiles to herself when she spots Eric’s broad back standing near the bar.

“Hey, so we’re good,” Cam begins as she walks up to him, until he turns and she clocks the look of concern on his face. She can feel it, too, and it makes her stomach turn. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, but I think we should go before I’m forced to use my words,” he says, pulling her closer. Cam takes that as a cue, winds her arms around him in an embrace to avoid looking like they don’t belong.

“He’s suspicious of us?” she asks, tipping her head to look up at him, and Eric’s mouth is set in a grim line. She doesn’t love the expression.

“He doubts our commitment,” he explains tensely, “and he thinks I’m neglecting you by not giving you what you so obviously need.” Cam frowns at that—Eric has given her so much already, including levels of confidence and security she hadn’t felt in a long time—and then, suddenly, realizes there’s only one thing they can do to prevent causing a big scene.

Cause a little scene.

“Let’s show him how wrong he is,” Cam murmurs, stretching up on her toes, and Eric meets her in the middle without hesitation. He’s firm but soft under her lips, her fingertips, and he quickly takes control of the kiss, pulling her closer, making a show of sliding a broad hand up to gently but possessively cover her throat. 

She moans softly at that, can’t help the way that singular action takes her level of attraction to him from a low, consistent simmer to boiling over rapidly in one weak breath. He squeezes just once, lightly, then slips her his tongue before pulling back to peer down at her; she knows she must look aroused, can feel her whole body flushing with want and heat and a little bit of shame at how quickly one kiss got away from her.

Eric takes her hand, and with a few hasty goodbyes they leave the party—though now it probably looks like they’re going to fuck in the back of his car instead of avoiding confrontation as originally planned. She thinks they might, for a moment, when he presses her back against the car door instead of opening it for her, panting like he’s catching his breath in a way she knows he doesn’t really need. 

She’s breathing heavily too, caged in by his big body as she is, and just when she thinks they’ve both calmed down Eric surges forward and kisses her again. Both of his hands come up to caress her face, and she gets her arms around him and holds him close as their mouths move. He’s pressed fully against her, his thighs on hers, his hips delicious and distracting, and when the kiss slows her mouth feels tingly, her body eager for more. She breathes against his lips, wets her own.

“Melanie’s pet found the engagement ring she’s hiding in her panty drawer,” she says quickly, before either of them can make another move. As much as she enjoyed that kiss—both of those kisses—she feels guilty now, like she’s taken advantage of a situation and she needs to find her way out of it. “So she’s been a little dodgy, and Melanie noticed. I’m thinking she’ll be glad to know that’s all it is, but maybe a little sour her surprise has been spoiled.”

Eric blinks a few times, frowns like he’s having trouble processing that information, then clears his throat, steps back to put space between them. 

“Oh. Good. Melanie will be pleased, then.” He glances up at the house, as if wondering if he should go back in and tell her the good news; before he makes a move, though, he turns again and looks at Cam with a somewhat softer, yet equally puzzling expression. “You did very well. Good girl.” 

His words hit like a punch to the stomach, like a plummeting rollercoaster, in the very best way; she squeezes her legs together, hoping he won’t pick up on the motion, then watches him lick his lips. 

“Thank you,” she replies, sounding breathless and shaky to her own ears. She can hear the blood rushing to them, feel the buzz of his mind, and something like contentment that she doesn’t have a name for but it obviously coming from him. It’s… distracting. He’s distracting.

Fuck, he’s good looking. Like a Swedish god, all brooding and chiseled and tall; like the Devil himself, she thinks, here to make her think of nothing but sin when she’s in his goddamn presence. What started as a working relationship has become so blurred in her mind, and now that they’ve kissed, she’s actually scared of what it may have awakened in her.

“I’ll call Melanie tomorrow,” Eric says, breaking her out of her thoughts and into the silence. He reaches behind her to unlock the door, and she hopes he doesn’t hear the hitch in her breath when he gets so close before pulling away. “Right now, I should probably get you home.”  Early that morning as he tries to sleep, images run through his mind at breakneck speed: Camila with a collar like Melanie’s pet, or on her knees in front of him, or spread on a bed with her hands bound and her legs open. He thinks he could drain her, choke her, make her see stars when she comes, maybe even make love to her…

He’s not sure exactly what he wants yet, only knows that he wants it with her.

His hands move of their own accord, and before he can process it he’s touching himself, fucking into his fist and thinking of her skin, silk soft and caramel colored, beneath his fangs. She smells like heaven, sun-kissed and tropical, and she’s in his nose all the time now: the floral bouquet of her shampoo, the delicate pulse of blood when she flushes near him. Her scent has soaked into his office, into his car, the walls of Fangtasia, and when his orgasm overtakes him his fangs extend, dreaming of sinking into the flesh of her throat or thigh and taking her in every way he can. As a vampire and a man.

He’s absolutely screwed, he thinks as he drifts blissfully to sleep, because now that he’s had a taste of her kiss, it will no doubt be the thing that consumes him. “You said you’d worked with shifters before,” Eric mentions the next time he sees Cam. He’d shown up at her house days after that kiss—that kiss, god—with another potential job for her, caught her just as she was getting out of the shower; as he sits across from her in the living room, he can smell soap and arousal on her, and he wonders if she touched herself in that shower, if she’s been thinking of him the way he’s been thinking of her. 

Her hair is wet and wavy, and she pulls it over her shoulder and nods. 

“Yeah, I have some experience with them. And, well, Sam is one,” she adds. Eric tries and fails to recall a shifter named Sam, and it must show on his face; Cam huffs a laugh. “Sam Merlotte, Sookie’s boss, owner of Merlotte’s Bar and Grill? The place we met,” she reminds him, like he could ever forget that night. “Did you not know?”

“I don’t even think I registered his existence,” he says honestly. It happens more often than he should admit. “But that’s good to know. I try to keep tabs on lone shifters in the area. Can you hear them?” he asks, which guides them back in the direction of the reason he’d come.

“Yes, but it’s not effortless the way it is with humans. Emotions are easier, they wear them on their sleeves, but for actual thoughts I need to focus.” Eric nods his head, steeples his fingers in front of him. 

“And what about skinwalkers? Have you worked with those?” Cam’s posture changes instantly, stiffens, but she shrugs in a way that gives the completely opposite effect—or it would, if he couldn’t feel her as clearly as he does. 

He can tell that this is an uncomfortable topic for her, and the last thing he wants is to pull her into something that will be difficult for her, but this task is important, will open doors for them in neighboring areas, maybe out of state. He needs more information before he decides.

“I know of them. They’re a bastardized version of shifters, they can mimic other people,  aren’t held to the same constraints as regular shifters,” she says with another lifted shoulder. “I’ve never met one, though, that I know of.”

“Do you know what makes them different? How they become skinwalkers? It isn’t passed down,” he tells her, and she nods at that, her expression shifting to something unreadable. 

“They’re killers,” she says, and it’s without judgment, to his surprise. “They gain the ability when they kill someone in their family. It would make prosecuting them pretty straightforward,” she says with a smile, though it’s not as bright as it usually is, doesn’t touch her eyes, “but shifters aren’t ‘out’ yet, not like you guys, so it’s kind of a moot point.” 

“You know more than I expected. I should be used to underestimating you by now,” he says, and she laughs at that, more like herself now. 

“Yeah, maybe you could quit doing that soon. I’ve been pretty helpful so far, knowledgeable, right?” she asks—and of course she has. She has no idea how much she’s already changed in him. 

“You have… which is why I’m asking about skinwalkers,” he says, shifting to look into her eyes. “If you aren’t comfortable doing what I’m going to ask, you need to tell me, but please know I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” she replies, and she’s giving him more credit than he thinks he deserves, but it makes him feel good all the same. “So what’s the job, boss?”  The job is transporting a teenage skinwalker from one area to another, where he’s going to be punished for impersonating a vampire—a trait Cam did not know they possessed. Those involved in the transport are Cam, obviously, and the skinwalker in question, as well as Eric and a witch he introduced as Lorna, who practically radiates power and energy. There’s a joke to be said there, about four different supernatural beings in one car—if a telepath can be considered one—but it’s not the time, so she holds her tongue. 

Eric is the one with the connections, and he knows where they’re headed, so he drives. The skinwalker sits behind him, bound by some invisible magic Lorna, who sits beside him, possesses. Cam feels mostly useless, because she’s sitting in the passenger’s seat with her eyes closed, her brain working hard to focus on the skinwalker’s thoughts. 

“The sheriff wants to know his motivations for impersonating a vampire, in the event it’s a larger conspiracy,” Eric told her on the way to pick up the pair in the back seat, and since they entered the car she has been channeling all of her strength and willpower into sifting through the shifter’s mind. 

It’s an ugly place, and she can tell without even touching him that some of that was nature, some was nurture, and some was just a kid left to his own devices. He doesn’t know she’s listening, probably didn’t know that was possible, so his thoughts go from one extreme to another: violent, pornographic, frightened, greedy, childish, terrifying. 

He thinks about the person he killed to become a skinwalker—his little brother—and she’s pretty certain he’s a psychopath who just happens to possess the ability to turn into a black bear. There’s no larger plot in the works here, no conspiracy, just a wreck of a kid with no conscience and more power than someone his age should possess. The kid can’t drink, can’t buy a pack of cigarettes, but he can shift into anyone he sees at will, and that actually blows Cam’s mind.

And her mind is aching by the time they cross the border into Mississippi, because once she started listening, a sort of sick fascination kept her there, like rubberneckers at a car accident. Three and a half hours after their departure, the sheriff of Jackson has the shifter in custody, and Lorna at his side to keep the kid bound until sentencing. She’ll be escorted home by a different vampire the next day, Cam’s pretty sure she heard someone say in the background of her brain. 

“Are you alright?” Eric asks when they’re alone in the car, his eyes on her face. “Should we stop to rest, for food?” She looks at him, but the words won’t come at first, and he reaches over to press his cool hand to her overheated cheek. 

It’s like bliss, and she sighs, pressing into his hand comfortably. She could fall asleep like this, with him propping her up, she muses briefly, but that would be strange and she’d have no way to explain that weirdness away. 

Instead, she blinks slowly and nods her head. “I’m okay. I have water, and snacks,” she reminds him, thinking of the bag of all-night rest stop goodies at her feet. “Probably best if we just head home. I’ll rest on the way, if that’s okay.” 

His touch is exceedingly gentle in response, and he pushes her hair back behind her ear, runs a thumb over her jaw, then puts the car in drive.

When they pull up to Cam’s apartment, she’s completely wiped, and despite her assurances that she can make it herself, Eric carries her inside and puts her into bed. Her eyelids flutter and she yawns, fighting sleep, but with hours until sunrise, Eric is in no hurry. He just sits beside her on the bed, speaking grateful words of praise for her assistance and running his fingers through her hair. The soft scrape of his fingers soothes her aching head, and she can tell it’s not long before she falls deeply asleep. Cam is invited to a party at Merlotte’s—an engagement party for the redheaded waitress, if she remembers correctly—and the text invite says that plus ones are welcome. That’s fortunate, Cam thinks, because she never goes anywhere without a vampire escort these days.

“Bill and Sookie aren’t happy I’m here,” Eric says suddenly in her ear, handing her a bottle of beer over her shoulder. She turns to see that a TruBlood rests in his own hand, type O+, just like her own blood.

“And you like it,” she accuses with a wink and a grateful sip of the beer. He narrows his eyes but laughs softly. 

“A little. It’s fun to watch that wrinkle on Bill’s forehead gradually become more furrowed. It’s like a shapeshifter,” he says casually, earning a double take from Sam who passes by with a tray laden with fried food. “I’m not sure if it’s a coincidence, but he’s always unhappy when I’m around.”

“Sure, a coincidence. You’re pure evil,” Cam teases, leaning back against the table, “psychologically torturing the poor man.” Eric turns toward her like she’s the only thing in the room worth watching, tips his hand and the bottle in it. He’s wearing all black—jacket, t-shirt, jeans, boots—and his eyes look bluer because of it, captivating her in a way she hopes isn’t completely obvious. She’s losing resolve when it comes to him, especially after the tenderness on her bed, the taste of his kiss.

“Ah, but it was you who invited me, so maybe you like it too. Maybe you’re not as good as you seem,” he says like a challenge, his lips turned up in a smirk, and she leans closer to him and takes another sip of her drink.

“I invited you because I knew you wouldn’t let me come alone,” she says, but truth be told, she’d invited him because she wanted to spend more time with him. Supernatural shenanigans aside, he’s usually busy when she hangs around the bar, and she craves his presence like never before. 

Eric takes a sip of his TruBlood, licks a drop from his lips, and watches her eyes as they track the movement. 

“Such a curious little thing you are: lawful and kind-hearted, but far from vanilla. I’m never quite sure what to expect from you,” he says, voice low. 

She resists swallowing at the implication of that statement, that word, pushes all thoughts of their intense kisses away and does her best not to let him see her stumble.

“So what you’re saying is I’m a lot to handle,” she teases instead, but he leans in closely just like he always does, pressing the fingers of his free hand against the tabletop so his arm is outstretched behind her. 

“I’m simply saying it would take someone powerful to handle you,” he clarifies, and she can’t help it, she shifts toward him at the thought of being handled. Her heart beats quickly in her chest, and he buzzes in her brain, anticipation like a cat waiting to strike its unsuspecting prey. It’s like a game to him, she thinks, this push and pull, making her want him, and she’s not so sure it’s one she’s prepared to play. 

She’s saved by Sookie, who steps up beside them and informs them that Bill wants to have a word with Eric—something about werewolves giving them shit a few days ago. Eric leaves her with a tip of his head, and Sookie leans back against the table beside her, her blonde ponytail flipping when she whips her head to face Cam.

“So I noticed you invited Eric,” she says cryptically, as if this is news to her, like he wasn’t literally standing in front of her just a moment ago. Cam takes a sip of her beer to hide a chuckle at that and swallows.

“Well, he’s hard not to notice,” Cam responds, eyeing the way Eric towers nearly six inches over Bill where they stand, across the room. Sookie follows her gaze, then smiles—sappy, the way she always does when she sees Bill—and follows it with a concerned frown.

“Is he giving you trouble?” 

“No more trouble than my last job. He runs his organization fairly, utilizes my skills in a way that’s comfortable for me. I have no complaints.” 

“Bill worries about you,” Sookie murmurs, bumping their arms together, and the thought is sweet, but a little maddening.

“He shouldn’t. I’m just saying,” she continues when her cousin gives her an unhappy look, “he wanted Eric to leave you alone, and he got that. I didn’t do it for the sake of your relationship, but it’s an inadvertent perk, so why worry?” Sookie sighs and brings her hand up, spends too much time staring at her own nails.

“Eric’s not like Bill, that’s all. He’s bloodthirsty. He doesn’t care the same way Bill does.” 

They’d been through this already, Cam thinks, but it is comforting to know they’re looking out for her, despite the suffocating way they choose to show it. Cam nods. 

“And I understand that. I accept it. I’ve worked with all kinds of vampires; some are warm and fuzzy, some aren’t, just like humans. I wouldn’t date a guy who doesn’t care whether I live or die, but I don’t mind working for one. I know I’m a valuable asset to him and that he’ll protect me because of that. That’s our agreement.”

“I don’t think Bill’s worried he’d let you die,” Sookie says, looking over at the men again. They’re looking over at the girls, and she averts her gaze quickly. “I think he’s worried that he wants you—and I am too, with the way he gets so close to you. He looks at you like a dog looks at meat.”

Cam can’t cover her laugh then, but she makes it quick and just shrugs as Sookie stares at her, the line between her eyebrows wrinkled and tense. 

“Harder to protect me from across the room, I guess,” she replies, even though she does feel a thrill at the thought that Eric could want her, for real. Sookie presses her lips together—and for a moment Cam swears she looks just like Gran—and nods her head.

“Yes, I’m sure that’s it,” she says, taking a sip of the drink in her hand, and when Eric walks back over to Cam, Sookie passes him without looking up or saying a word. Cam has a few drinks, and before she can ask, Eric takes her car keys and guides her to the passenger’s seat, opens the door for her. 

“I could stay at Sookie’s,” she says when he leans down to make sure she’s comfortable before closing the door. She looks up at him with deep, wide eyes that sparkle a little in the moonlight. “You don’t have to drive me.” 

“I want to drive you,” he tells her, and he tucks her leg in and shuts the door. He walks around the car and gets into the driver’s seat; when he looks over at her, she’s staring at him… fondly, maybe? He can’t quite tell, but it’s a warm feeling, one he enjoys. 

“As long as you’re sure we have enough time before sunrise. I don’t want it to cook you,” she says, and when he reaches up to put the key in the ignition, she rests her hand on his arm. “I like you too much for it to cook you. Okay?”

Eric feels his own rush of affection at her confession, at her touch, and he puts his hand on hers and leans in, looks seriously into her eyes. 

“I promise, we’ll be home before sunrise,” he assures. She exhales softly at that, nods her head a little, and they part, shifting into their own respective seats. 

The ride back to her apartment is quiet, though she keeps looking over at him for reasons he can’t decipher. Her gaze moves to the window when he catches her looking, and he finds that really… cute.

He used to be terrifying. He used to be formidable. Now he’s a designated driver with a crush, a glorified bodyguard to the girl he’s absolutely enamored of. How far the mighty fall.

He walks her to her door, proper escort that he is, and when she invites him in, he considers it. He’d considered it last time, too, when she was wearing tight running clothes, smelling like heaven, but nothing good would come of it then, and nothing good would come of it now. He declines, and she takes it in stride, but lingers in the doorway, the silence between them shifting from companionable to weighted. He looks her over, in her jeans and tank top, hair falling over her shoulder, and his mind… wanders. It’s unfair how beautiful she is, how close and yet still so very far away from him.

“Is there something else?” he asks eventually, taking a step closer to her, and as if she’s made up her mind, she nods resolutely. 

“Yes. I’m waiting for you to kiss me goodnight.”

Eric doesn’t need to be told twice. Slowly but purposefully, he climbs the stairs, and she’s watching him, looking at him like she wants him. 

He has to admit, he’s surprised by her forwardness—even drunk, he never would have expected her to admit to wanting anything to do with him, let alone to ask for it.

This kiss is gentler than the one they shared at the party, the one that went from purely a distraction to somewhat of an awakening for Eric. He’d been almost astounded that after all these centuries he was even capable of being surprised by his own desires. He holds her around the waist, brings a hand up to brush her jaw, and she makes a low, contented noise and wraps her fingers into the fabric of his jacket.

The hand on her face moves to caress her throat—the throat he thinks about more often than he should, the one he imagines licking and biting and squeezing at all hours of the night—and she sighs happily at his touch, presses into it like her body is asking for all the things her mind won’t let her say. 

It’s his hope that one day she will say them, that he’ll be worthy of the attention she gives him, the kindness, but he knows that kind of thinking can only lead to madness. 

He steps back to break the kiss, because if it were up to him they’d never stop kissing, but she didn’t ask for that; her mouth is kiss-red when they part, and she runs her tongue over it like she’s savoring him before nodding her head and reaching back for the door handle. 

“Thank you,” she says, and though his brain is buzzing with her, he just nods, keeps his cool, exhales. 

“You’re welcome.”  She’s glad he doesn’t linger this time, because she dreams of him.

[princescribbler]

Quick Reminder For ABDLs:

You are allowed to like cuteness and cuddly things, even if you're a traditionally tough, serious, or masculine adult. Gender and sexual identity don't matter: it's OK to be an adult and an abdl and enjoy the cute and cuddly things.

There's no harm being done by you wearing diapers.. nobody is getting hurt, nobody's life is ruined, no public harm is occurring.... you're wearing absorbent underwear, and when you stop seeing it as a huge deal, you realize it... just isn't that shocking or bad!

Negative self talk is a major issue, and you can fight it by telling yourself (even just quietly in your own mind) about the things you ENJOY about this kink and dynamic! Tell yourself how cute you are in a diapee, not silly. Unless you like humiliation, in which you're a very very naughty adult baby who should be very blushy and embarrassed ;)

Public bathrooms are gross. I'm not saying that an adult using their diaper isn't, at the least, a bit unusual or maybe a strange strategy to deal with icky public bathrooms... but it's at least a nice edge case benefit from the kink!

Nobody is looking at you and waiting for diaper crinkles unless they're already aware of this kink, or you've shown them what you're up to. Seriously, I wore diapers to work for like 4+ years now, and the truth is nobody knows or cares! I don't carefully check to see what my coworkers are wearing as undies, and if they think I'm padded in diapers they'd just assume it's medical anyways, and never ask out of politeness!

Healthy cg/l relationship dynamics are complicated, but they aren't hard to put into practice. You might find the details hard to figure out, but finding a partner you can rely on and feel protected by really isn't particularly kinky... that's called a healthy relationship, whether it's kinky or not! So if you're with someone who makes this stuff impossibly hard or shameful or bad... that might not be an issue of your kink. It might be a fundamental issue in your relationship!

Stuffed animals are cozy and nice for everyone. You don't need to act weird to like stuffies, and you can even accept that if people see a house full of stuffies... they think Disney fanatic, not abdl. Or maybe they see it as cutesy, or an example of you being unique, but very very VERY few people see that kinda stuff and think "abdl". Cuz if they do.. they likely know enough about abdl to have experience, or have similar desires.

Nobody and nothing can make your needs invalid if you're acting safely, harming no one, and seeing to your needs. You need diapers? Great, go get them. Need pull ups to cope with a tough week at work? Not an issue, go for it. Need to carry a small pacifier in your Pocket to feel confident enough for a job interview? Go for it: you don't need to judge or dissect every one of your needs to be able to see them as valid and reasonable.

You're not nearly as kinky as you usually think... because fantasies aren't reality. Sure, I'm pretty kinky, but I've now been on here, on fetlife and bdsmlr enough to know... you just aren't that kinky. Unless you're cathed, caged, plugged, hypnotized, in a 24/7 total power exchange with your mommy/ daddy/ owner and their new owner who replaced you once you accepted your permanent role as house baby... I'm guessing you're fine. A lot of fantasies are just that: fantasies! So stop judging yourself as though every fantasy you imagine is one you think you need to do, ok? You're allowed to have extreme Fantasies or even scenes. Unless you're committing to more than that, though, you really don't need to be so convinced of just how extreme you are.

Disney really is that much fun. No you aren't crazy for still loving them.

Same with Pixar... except they might make you cry even more. And more often. Because damn you Pixar, you onion cutting ninjas!

When you feel bad and want to take a step back... you can! Truly it isn't an issue to step away or step back. As long as it's not like a binge/purge thing or completely panicking ... it really is OK to step away. Maybe you need a breather. Maybe you need a long break. Maybe it's just a day to recharge: that's ok! So stop judging yourself for every little change and decision!

No: having your mommy or daddy write a note to your boss ain't gonna work. Sorry, but it's been tried. "Mommy says I need to stay home and have extra cuddles" is still not recognized as a valid reason to miss work at most jobs. Sorry to break it to you!

Finally: kink and fetishes can sometimes feel isolating. That's a big part of why communities like this pop up on tumblr, Twitter, Instagram, bdsmlr, fetlife, and any other site you can imagine. Sometimes, you need to embrace these communities for your own good: it can feel so very, very nice to not feel isolated anymore. You really have no idea!! Give it a shot and you might be surprised!

I know it's not an exhaustive list, but that jumped to mind today and I felt compelled to type them out and share. If you think I'm missing key points, leave a comment or reblog and add your suggested addition!

And as always, stay happy, stay healthy, And stay kinky!!!

-Scribbler

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

what meaningful plenaration does "sane" add to "safe sane and consensual"? safe and consensual are both pretty intuitive as to what is and isn't and why they're important, but what is the aspect of this nebulous hypothetical insane sex (this would work better as a phrase if insane sex wasn't already a thing people said about good sex. much to think about) which is uniquely best to avoid but not already covered by safe or consensual?

i've been thinking about that one thing i saw a while ago about reevaluating ssc in the face of increased awareness of like, mad liberation and the ways that mentally disabled people are barred from sexual agency by ableism & the psych system and i genuinely can't come up with a reason why sane was in there in the first place

great question! let's talk about it!

but first: hey. what on earth does plenaration mean. I absolutely understand the question that you're asking but I don't know that word (unusual for me, if I may flex a little!) and google is giving me NOTHING.

anyway, moving on!

SSC was initially popularized by in 1983 by the New York group Gay Male S/M [Sadism/Masochism] Activists, and particularly activist David Stein. let's take a look at their full statement:

GMSMA is a not-for-profit organization of gay males in the New York City area who are seriously interested in safe, sane, and consensual S/M. Our purpose is to help create a more supportive S/M community for gay males, whether they desire a total lifestyle or an occasional adventure, whether they are just coming out into S/M or are long experienced. Our regular meetings and other activities attempt to build a sense of community by exploring common feelings and concerns. We aim to raise awareness about issues of safety and responsibility, to recover elements of our tradition, and to disseminate the best available medical and technical information about S/M practices. We seek to establish a recognized political presence in the wider gay community in order to combat the prevailing stereotypes and misconceptions about S/M while working with others for the common goals of gay liberation. (x)

GMSMA was founded three years prior in 1981, which is only important because that was also the year the first AIDS patients were identified. I don't know if you're familiar with a little thing called The AIDS Crisis, but suffice to say that during the 80s the public perception of gay male sexuality Was Not Good, particularly something double deviant like sex that was gay and also kinky. in a later essay reflecting on (and criticizing!) the mainstreaming of the term, Stein said he wanted to SSC framework to distinguish mutually consensual sadomasochism from "the criminally abusive or neurotically self-destructive behaviour popularly associated with the term 'sadomasochism'."

in other words: while I can't tell you everything that lay in the heart of David Stein when he first used the phrase, it's very clear that the GMSMA seemed invested in improving the public image of kink by separating it as much as possible from the notion that it was something only practiced by crazed degenerates - you know, something queer people have been forced to do for pretty much all queer sex throughout history? in the same 2000 essay linked above, Stein reflects on how many people took SSC as "a welcome validation for a type of sexuality still considered "sick" or "crazy" by much of our society."

is there still ableism baked into that narrative re: the notion that mental illness is a bad thing to be affiliated with? yeah, absolutely, and we'll get to that! spoilers: it's been a source of much criticism, which is why many people now prefer RACK over SSC. but give me a second to get there!

in the essay I've been pulling from, Stein freely admits that GMSMA never attempted to offer concrete definitions of SSC, particularly not the latter two: "We left "sane" and "consensual" much vaguer, "sane" because it's pretty vague to begin with once you get past the obvious meaning - able to distinguish fantasy from reality - and "consensual" because we didn't realize how tricky it is."

the idea of "sane" meaning a person is meaningfully able to distinguish fantasy from reality was echoed by Gil Kessler, a longtime kink educator and board member of GMSMA. rope enthusiast Tammad Rimilia defined it differently, saying that sane kink referred to a situation where "all parties are engaging in this activity by direct intention and can judge the effects of their actions." you can see that echoed in Stein's earlier statement about differentiating the kind of sex that GMSMA encouraged from "self-destructive behavior."

tl;dr, the "sane" is mostly there to specifically draw attention to the fact that some people engage in sex in ways that may be a form of self-harm and/or may want to engage in sex when they are experiencing reality in a way that prevents them from making rational, fully-informed choices, such as psychosis or manic episodes. per their own statement, it seems the GMSMA would discourage having sex with people in this category.

obviously that may already fall under the purview of safe and consensual, but show me an organization that's never gotten a little redundant in its mission statement and I'll eat my shirt.

now, back to that criticism! as Stein notes in the essay I've referenced heavily in this answer, understandings of safety, sanity, and consent have come a long way since 1983! the risk-aware consensual kink model (RACK) has gained popularity for many reasons, with much of the conversation centered on both the inherent ableism of SSC and concerns about the promise of "safe" and the unhelpful and unrealistic expectations it may set. hell, even notions of consent are constantly growing and evolving. and that's wonderful! SSC comes from a very specific time and place in the history of kink and may no longer be the pinnacle of best practices for everyone, but there's still plenty to be learned from its origins.

[feeder86]

Falling for a Feeder: Infatuation

Of course Lucas had been into Talon ever since he’d first laid eyes on him. One look at that handsome smile, pretty face, not to mention the stunningly athletic body, and he had been swooning like never before. It was his piercing eyes and striking features. Or, perhaps it was Talon’s confidence and swagger that did it for Lucas just as much. Talon: the overconfident young guy, not at all daunted by the enormity of New York City after coming from such a small town, now surrounded by people he had never met before and places he did not know. Instead, maybe it was the way nothing in life seemed to phase Talon; as if the world was there only for him, and he would seize it with both hands. For a nineteen year old Lucas, newly out of the closet and sharing a house with the best looking straight boys on campus, such feelings of longing were always an inevitability.

Lucas had first learned of Talon’s unusual taste in women quite early on. He’d come downstairs in the morning to see the handsome football player making breakfast for a large, overweight girl that he’d seen walking through campus a few times before. He did a double take, seeing Talon leaning in and kissing her as he served up a plate of food for her. Had this girl been the one he’d heard Talon drunkenly bringing home last night? Surely not!

Sticking around downstairs, Lucas listened to the flirtations of Talon, spoiling and kissing her as if she was the love of his life. He watched as Talon led her to the door, placing his large hands on her enormous rear and kissing her once more, gently pulling up her skirt a little so that Lucas got an eyeful of the girl’s thick, doughy legs from behind.

“Are you… really into her?” Lucas asked as the door closed and Talon was rid of her at last.

“Hell no!” Talon scoffed, shrugging off the romance of the previous few hours like a dog shaking itself after a dip in a frosty lake.

Lucas chuckled, feeling a strange sense of relief. The world hadn’t gone mad after all. “I thought not! I couldn’t quite get my head around it when I saw you flirting with her in there.”

“Look at that!” Talon grumbled, ignoring Lucas entirely. He was lifting the plate he’d served his guest that morning. “She hardly ate any of it!” he complained, seemingly genuinely insulted.

“You did serve her quite a lot of food though,” Lucas replied, feeling unsure where Talon was going with his sudden disgust of the woman he had been seemingly infatuated with only minutes earlier.

“She’s a fat girl though,” Talon stated bluntly. “You saw the size of her. She should be able to eat a simple breakfast like that without a problem.” He lifted up the lid of the trash can and scooped the remains away. “I hate it when girls do that!” he grumbled, throwing the plates in the sink and running off upstairs to get ready for his classes.

Lucas stood, feeling just as confused as ever. Nothing seemed to make sense. Not only had the gorgeous Talon brought a large, unattractive fat girl home, but the thing that had seemingly put him off was his date not finishing her breakfast? He’d heard about guys who were into fat girls; some who even liked to feed them up and enjoyed actively helping to fatten them up. But that wasn’t Talon. Was it?

What had started as a suspicion was soon confirmed time and time again over the following weeks. Talon continued to bring home larger and larger girls, ending his dates with the cooking and inevitable consumption of a large fried breakfast. The other guys in the house even tried to make fun of him for it; sniggering behind his back about Talon’s strange love of fat girls. However, none of it ever seemed to put a dent in Talon’s ego. He laughed along with them and spoke passionately about why he got such a thrill from it all. He was a man who loved his life. And he was a man who loved his fat girls!

Perhaps Talon’s desires made him even more alluring to Lucas. That naughty, devious, kinkiness that he felt no shame in at all. The other guys didn’t have that confidence in themselves; not in the slightest. Despite their good looks and bravado, it was obvious to see that they were all surprisingly insecure underneath; just small boys pretending to be adults. It was only Talon who really had the guts to live his life how he wanted; to enjoy the things he liked without absorbing the shame that others believed he should feel.

Talon’s voice seemed to change when he talked about fat girls with Lucas. The lust was evident in every syllable he used. The smile that betrayed the kinky images that must have been flooding his brain as he spoke about his preferences. Lucas had to breathe deeply to stop himself from getting hard, listening to a guy he was so attracted to getting horny right before his eyes; the knowledge that the beautiful, perfect hunk was most likely nursing a boner in his underwear as he shared all of his fantasies aloud.

“You know, you’re the only one I can talk to about all of this,” Talon smiled at last. “Everyone else just thinks I’m a freak if I try and bring it up.”

That made Lucas feel very special. “I love talking about this stuff with you,” he replied honestly.

Talon smiled, pleased to have someone to vent his sexual frustrations with. Then he would continue chatting away, like he had known Lucas for years; like he was a conspirator to help Talon find the greedy, fat girl of his dreams.

“There’s not been much news here. Jay’s been pining for some girl on his course all weekend,” Lucas grumbled to Talon as the guy just got in that Sunday night, having spent a weekend visiting his folks. “He got drunk on Friday night and bored the pants off everyone going on and on about her. He thinks she’s the love of his life.”

Talon smirked. “Which girl is that?” he asked. He seemed to have a gift for remembering faces and names, with a deep interest in people and an understanding of how they ticked.

“He said her name was Sarah,” Lucas shrugged disinterestedly.

Talon laughed aloud. “Sarah Gormad?” he asked with obvious amusement. He shook his head. “What an idiot! Of course that soft boy has fallen for Sarah Gormad! He doesn’t stand a chance!”

Lucas frowned. Jay was a good looking guy: naturally broad and tall with deep, soulful eyes. Surely someone like Jay could have any girl he wanted. “Why?” he jumped in. “What’s so special about this Sarah girl?” he asked, feeling insulted on Jay’s behalf.

Talon looked to the door to check that none of the other guys were about to walk in and overhear them. Only then did he duck his head in slightly and seemingly confide in his housemate. “Sarah’s like me,” he stated simply. “She likes the fatties.”

“Oh!” Lucas gasped quietly. “Are you sure?”

Talon smirked again and nodded with confidence. “I’m sure,” he grinned knowingly.

“But Jay reckons they’re soul mates,” Lucas whispered. 

The two boys looked at each other seriously for a moment, then suddenly burst out into fits of laughter at the bizarre nature of it all. They often shared moments like these where they would both lose it over something ridiculous; making Lucas realise that, despite their obvious differences, he and Talon shared the most similar sense of humour in the house. Even though he did not know much about sports, beers, or how to pick up girls, Lucas always felt that Talon enjoyed talking to him more than the other guys they lived with.

“Aw, we shouldn’t laugh!” Talon finally sighed. “Jay is a good pal. If he wants a shot with Sarah, I’m going to make sure he gets it.”

Lucas nodded, despite not sharing Talon’s optimism. If this Sarah girl really was into larger guys, there was no way she’d want to start dating someone completely different to her preference. After all, dating a skinny girl was something he could never imagine Talon doing. Never in a million years!

Over the coming weeks, Lucas noticed Talon starting to take Jay a little under his wing. They were hanging out more and had even started training together at the gym. Talon seemed to be the instigator, always calling out for Jay and taking him here, there and everywhere with him, like he was his new favourite toy. Lucas tried not to feel jealous as he got less and less time for his chats with his secret crush. Instead, it was as if Talon was joined at the hip with Jay, regularly sat down in the lounge area together, watching some dumb noughties sitcom that hadn’t dated especially well.

“Have you noticed?” Talon asked Lucas a few weeks later as an exhausted Jay had fallen asleep on the couch with a beer in his hand. “Our Jay is starting to gain a few pounds.”

Lucas looked across sceptically. Then, suddenly, his eyes widened with realisation, seeing exactly what Talon meant. With his sleepy head falling to one side, a small puddle of fat seemed to have built under his chin, whilst his bloated stomach seemed to be pressing ever so slightly against his t-shirt as his chest rose up and down.

“You see it, don’t you?” Talon asked, as if desperate for confirmation.

“I see it!! Lucas nodded, feeling like now he had noticed it, he wouldn’t ever be able to unsee it again. He thought back to his conversation with Talon about helping Jay to get the girl he was interested in, then tentatively posed the question. “You didn’t have something to do with this?” he asked suspiciously.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Talon smirked. He reached for the football that seemed to always hang around downstairs and threw it directly at Jay’s torso, waking him up with a start. “Come on, buddy. Ben has invited us over for a party. We’ll pick up some supplies on the way.”

“It’s almost midnight,” a groggy Jay replied, trying to make sense of where he was.

“It’s Friday night!” Talon chuckled. “Get your ass up. Ben thinks Sarah might be heading over to the party soon as well.”

With a sigh, Jay slowly stood himself up, no longer needing any more cajoling. Then, with sleepy little steps, he followed his buddy out into the cold, fresh air.

Part of the requirement of Lucas’ course was that he took on a work placement with a company that had been assigned to him by the college. He walked back into the house, after four weeks away, seeing that his presence had been sorely missed. The guys simply didn’t seem to tidy up after themselves unless there was someone around to nag them. He heard the rumblings of someone heading downstairs and suddenly saw Talon smiling and welcoming him home. Just the sight of him made the breath catch in his chest.

“Did you miss me?” Lucas asked jokingly, already knowing that Talon had far too many friends to even notice that Lucas hadn’t been around.

“I did, actually,” Talon nodded, noticing the sarcasm in Lucas’ voice. “There’s been no one around to keep me in check,” he chuckled.

“Why?” Lucas asked, sensing that there was yet another tale of mischief involving Talon that was soon coming his way. “What have you done now?”

“Jay’s a fatty,” Talon simply stated. “Seriously. You won’t believe it when you see him. He’s got love handles and everything.”

Lucas shook his head. “It’s been four weeks,” he replied, not believing for a second that an athletic, six foot guy could suddenly turn into a fat boy in that amount of time.

“Trust me!” Talon grinned wickedly. “He’s getting massive! It’s all in his ass, his love handles and gut,” he explained, modelling the areas he was referencing on his own, fine physique. Then, he suddenly hushed, hearing more footsteps upstairs and the loud rumble of someone else coming down the stairs. Right on cue, Jay was entering the room and, just like that, everything Talon had said seemed to be validated.

Jay seemed fuller in the face from the moment Lucas laid eyes on him. His torso looked somehow puffed-up and the fabric of his t-shirt was clinging, rather unflatteringly against the mass of his middle, as if a gut really was developing underneath there. He greeted Lucas with a hug, then walked on by to the kitchen to fix himself a morning coffee, giving them both a view of his chunky glutes and thighs that seemed oversized, even for his large frame.

“There’s some leftover pizza in the fridge, buddy,” Talon suggested to Jay, who seemed to be considering what to have for his breakfast. 

Like a puppet, Jay opened up the refrigerator and pulled out the pizza box, munching away on the almost full pizza that was inside it.

Lucas felt Talon nudge him in his side, as if to get his attention before he spoke to Jay next. “Hey, I was just telling Lucas about that shit tattoo on your shoulder. He’s never seen it before. He had no idea what I was talking about.”

“It’s not a shit tattoo,” Jay frowned, looking like a guy who had been made fun of for his artistic choice many times in the past. 

“Let Lucas see it and be the judge of that,” Talon demanded.

With a sigh, Jay turned around and lifted his shirt fully off so that a small celtic-design tattoo could be seen. But Lucas already knew that the artwork wasn’t the real reason why Talon had requested this viewing for him. He could see Talon out of the corner of his eye, nodding his head and willing him to look at the fleshy love handles on Jay’s body, sitting there atop the waistband of his sweatpants, which dug into him surprisingly harshly.

“Um, it…” Lucas tried to comment. “It looks good,” he mumbled, feeling a great swirl of emotions within him.

Talon was grinning beside him, enjoying how flustered Lucas had suddenly become. He strutted over to Jay, as he tried to manouever his t-shirt so that he could put it back on again.  But Talon had got to him first, slinging his big arm over the guy’s shoulders and swinging him around so that Lucas could get a look at his chubby torso from the front as well; fuck, that belly button looked deep!

“It’s not even symmetrical,” Talon went on teasingly.

“Well, Sarah likes it,” Jay grumbled defensively, picking a new slice of pizza up.

Talon seemed to be trying his best not to laugh. There was a devious twinkle in his eye and joy written across his entire face. “Yeah, to be fair, Sarah really, really liked looking at his tattoo,”  Talon smirked, frowning ever so slightly and letting Lucas know that, just like his viewing today, Sarah hadn’t really been admiring the tattoo at all. “You even got her number, didn’t you, big guy?”

Looking pleased with himself, Jay nodded. “We’re going out for a date a week on Friday.”

“That’s why we’re heading out to the gym this morning,” Talon explained, with his strong arm still wrapped over the chubby boy’s shoulders. “Work on his guns before the big day!”

“Congratulations,” Lucas stuttered, recognising at long last that, whatever wicked game Talon was playing with his friend, it was actually working.

Getting Talon on his own was almost an impossibility over the next few days. He was joined at the hip, either to Jay or one of the other guys. Lucas thought he knew how Talon was doing it, seeing all the protein shakes lined up in the refrigerator that Talon was giving the poor guy after their sessions. He picked one up and opened the lid to sniff it, the cream and sugars instantly hitting his nose. It was hard to imagine just how many calories would be secretly squeezed into them, but it was clearly enough to start packing on a remarkable layer of pudgy fat onto Jay’s body. Lucas tipped one back for a tiny sip and shook his head. How would Jay not even realise that this was no protein shake? It was so thick, so gloopy and sweet, he must have been forcing it down his throat.

Lucas could have blown the whistle on it all, but he had never seriously considered the idea. He tried to convince himself that it was because he saw Talon as such a good friend that he was allowing him to have his fun. But, if Lucas was being honest with himself, he was actually just very curious about it all. It was hard to believe just how fast Talon had made his mark on Jay’s body, and it was incredible to see just how far Talon was willing to go with it. He was utterly wicked, doing this to one of his so-called ‘best friends’ and yet, Lucas couldn’t quite understand why his attraction to the straight boy was getting stronger and stronger.

By the evening of Jay’s first date with Sarah, the guy was looking chubbier than ever. He’d been to the gym that morning with Talon and was now standing by the fridge gulping down his shake with a lot more ease than Lucas had anticipated. Talon was stood to the side of him, watching as every single calorie was taken in. That was when Lucas looked down and saw the biggest shock of his life so far: the strain in the crotch of Talon’s pants. As the handsome boy watched his buddy chugging down the shake, he was actually getting aroused!

His eyes fixated, it didn’t take Talon long to look across and see that Lucas had spotted his erection. “Oi!” he whispered, grinning from ear to ear and throwing the scrunched up dishcloth over so that it hit Lucas in the face. But the feeder was still grinning with delight, not in the least bit ashamed of himself, despite readjusting his crotch, making both of them laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Jay asked, lowering his head after completing the chug and trying to burp up the excess air with at least some discretion. 

“Nothing, buddy. Nothing,” Talon smirked, putting his big arm over the overfed boy’s shoulders and guiding him away. “Let’s just go and get you ready for your big date!”

“Jay!” Lucas shouted out, letting the gnawing guilt in his stomach start to get the better of him.

Jay turned around, waiting for whatever it was Lucas wanted to say to him.

Lucas stood there, knowing that he should unmask their wicked housemate for all that he had done; yet he could never bring himself to do it. “Have a great time with Sarah tonight.” He twiddled with his thumbs nervously. “You really do deserve it.”

Later that evening, Talon wandered into the kitchen, seeming like some sort of spare part. “Awh, you don’t know what to do with yourself now Jay has gone out for his date?” Lucas joked, looking at his watch. “I think this is the longest you’ve left him alone in weeks!”

Talon chuckled and sat himself down on the counter, continuing to look forelorn. “I think you might be right,” he nodded with a grin.

“Out of interest, do you happen to know how much weight you managed to pack on him in these last few weeks?” Lucas asked, determined to maintain at least a hint of disapproval in his voice.

“Don’t know,” Talon shrugged, picking up one of the many random bouncy balls in the house and mindleslly throwing it from one hand to the other. “I kept him well away from the scales for obvious reasons…” he laughed. “Forty pounds? Forty-five?”

“Don’t you feel guilty?” Lucas asked, feeling a little exasperated by the glee in Talon’s voice.

“No,” Talon answered simply. “Should I?” he asked back, still with that self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“You secretly made your best friend gain forty-five pounds of pure fat, and you don’t even feel the least bit guilty?”

“No,” Talon repeated with a chuckle. “Jay wanted to date a chubby-chaser girl and I got off on popping a little belly out on him. It was a win-win!”

“You’re evil!” Lucas stated next, unable to help the little laugh that came with it. He stood up and reached into the fridge to grab one of the fattening shakes Talon had been feeding to Jay for all those weeks. “So, what actually is in one of these things?”

“Oh, that’s a top secret recipe. Only the most wicked and evil people in the world get to find stuff like that out,” Talon joked. He was getting turned on just talking about it; Lucas could hear it in his voice, making it sound almost as though he himself was being flirted with.

“I tried a bit of one last week,” Lucas admitted.

“Fuck! Serioudsly?” Talon gasped, suddenly giving Lucas every bit of his attention.

“I wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” he went on, enjoying the surprised look on the handsome boy’s face and suddenly realising just how much he had been craving this one-on-one time with him.

“Shit, man!” Talon laughed. “If you knew what was really in one of those things, you wouldn’t want to touch a drop of it!”

Lucas didn’t know what had got into him. He felt a spike of adrenaline from having shocked Talon so much and wanted a second hit. “You sure about that?” he asked, flipping the spout up and taking down a good few gulps. When he was done, he saw Talon’s eyes wide with alarm and surprise. “What’s got you so concerned?” he asked playfully.

“Did you really just down that after everything I just said about it?” he asked, laughing from shock.

“I dunno. Did I?” Lucas shrugged again, tipping his head back and sucking down more.

“Seriously, dude!” Talon cried.

“Tell me to stop then,” Lucas requested. “Tell me to stop drinking it and I will.” He stared at his friend, wondering what on earth was going on inside that devious and complicated mind of his. “Better do it quickly though… I’m getting thirsty again…”

With Talon’s silence, Lucas did exactly as he had threatened and continued gulping down the shake. He could feel the bottle getting lighter and lighter in his hand. With surprising ease, it was all trickling down his throat. Then, with a look of triumph, he banged the empty bottle down on the table and smirked with delight at his own cleverness. Now he definitely had Talon’s attention.

Lucas tried not to show how tight his tummy felt afterwards. He headed back to his room and groaned as he flopped down on the bed, rubbing his stomach. After a minute or so, he stood up again and went over to his mirror to see if his normally flat middle looked as bloated as it felt. He’d felt a tingling down in his crotch for some time, but upon seeing his uncovered belly looking so unnaturally distended, Lucas now suddenly felt it shift up a gear. He wanted to laugh in amazement. Just what was it about this that felt so damn… erotic? Had it been the look on Talon’s face? Was it the reflection of his swollen body in the mirror now? Or was it the idea of Talon’s mixture inside his body, working away, trying to transform him as it had done Jay? From the moment he started tugging at his hardness, Lucas knew it was going to be an intense orgasm. But what he didn’t realise was that he would need to climax a further four times that night until his body finally felt calm enough to sleep.

“You put appetite stimulants in those shakes, don’t you?” Lucas asked the next morning as he came down to find Talon in the kitchen, grabbing some bread before his park run. He'd been distracted by his headphones, trying to set up a playlist before he left; now viewing Lucas as a whirlwind suddenly decending upon him.

“Umm, yeah,” Talon mumbled awkwardly, surprised to be seeing Lucas opening the refrigerator door so wide and properly crouching down to search for things to eat.

“I’m absolutely starving this morning,” Lucas explained, pulling out everything he thought might help to satisfy his hunger. “Don’t you have to be there for the park run by nine?” he asked, upon standing up and seeing that a dumbfounded Talon was still staring at him in much the same way as last night.

“I was just…” Talon began to mutter awkwardly. He wasn’t usually the type to mumble, not as he was now.

Suddenly, Lucas’ stomach gave a loud and audible rumble, sounding angry and impatient. Lucas rolled his eyes and tutted. “Fuck it!” he cried, reaching back into the refrigerator and finding another one of Jay’s shakes and starting to take it down, knowing that it was probably the only thing that could immediately take his hunger away. He chugged it until he felt his stomach filling up pleasantly; surprised to see that, at that point, over three-quarters of the entire bottle had already disappeared into his body. He licked his lips. Talon’s shakes really were pretty nice after you got used to how thick and heavy they were. He shrugged, tipped his head back once more and finished the rest of it, not wanting to waste anything. Then he threw the empty bottle in the sink and began to lay bacon in a pan for cooking. 

Without a word, Lucas heard Talon rummaging around behind him, slowly drifting out to get to his run; clearly still lost for words. In no time at all, Lucas’ bacon began to sizzle. Then, as the front door closed behind Talon, Lucas finally felt free to rub against his crotch at long last, knowing that he would need to jack himself off again before Talon got back.

Jay had not returned home after his date the night before and there was an excited buzz around the house as the lucky boy sent a message to one of the other guys to explain that he was staying with Sarah on Saturday night as well. Things had clearly gone well!

“I think you may have lost your little project!” Lucas teased Talon.

Talon looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t think we’re going to be seeing as much of Jay now he’s all loved up,” he clarified, picking up a bottle of Jay’s ‘protein’ shake and noting that three new ones had been added that morning. “And after all that effort you put in!”

“I’m just pleased that I could help,” Talon smirked.

“Liar!” Lucas blasted, making Talon laugh and smile broadly. “I saw that boner! You were just getting your rocks off to fattening him up!”

Talon nodded as he continued to chuckle, not denying a single word. Then he suddenly became more serious, with a deliberately flirtatious tone. “You didn’t see it this morning though, did you?”

Lucas tried to bite back his thrill and returned an almost defiantl look back at Talon. “I was too busy frying up my bacon.”

“I noticed!” Talon smiled.

“You know what…” Lucas went on, popping the spout of Jay’s shake and taking a few casual sips. “All your talk of getting off on fattening up Jay…” He took a few more sips, enjoying the fact that he could make Talon hang on his every word. “...It’s all bullshit!” he laughed. “All you’re doing is adding a few hidden calories into his diet.”

Lucas had to lift the bottle a little higher to take a few more sips now. Talon simply stared at him, grinninng at the fact that his housemate was calling him out on his technique.

“You wouldn’t actually know what to do if someone came up to you and asked you to fatten them up properly. If they were holding you to account for it and checking on the scales to see if all your sneaky little methods really work.”

Talon playfully shrugged his muscular shoulders. “No, I guess you’re right there. I’ve never… overtly fattened someone up like that.”

Feeling vindicated, Lucas held the boy’s eye contact and threw his head back a little to drain even more of the shake . “I thought not,” he grinned, taking Talon’s mixture with him to finish off while he worked on his very long and very boring assignment that evening.

Lucas finally got the chance to meet the infamous Sarah the following weekend. Everyone else in the house had only taken a vague interest in the goings on in Jay’s love life, but Lucas, along with Talon, had stayed downstairs trying to be as sociable as possible the entire evening.

Jay hadn’t been to the gym with Talon all week and it seemed to show. His face had started to take on a doughy puffiness to it and his clothes appeared to fit with a strange awkwardness around his butt and especially around his waist. The poor boy had simply been passed from one feeder’s hands and into another’s. 

If Talon hadn’t told Lucas that Sarah was into larger guys, Lucas still thought that he would have been able to work it out for himself. The girl couldn’t keep his hands off Jay. Perhaps that was normal for a couple who had only been together for such a short time, but it was where Sarah was touching him that most attracted Lucas’ attention. Her fingers drifted over the fleshiest parts of his body, never failing to cup his newly padded up butt whenever he stood up. They seemed to be in the midst of a whirlwind romance, recounting all of the things they had done together that week; every one of them seeming to revolve around having food out at some place or another. Talon had appeared to notice that as well, giving Lucas a sly grin as they both turned to look at each other, thinking exactly the same thing.

Being in that room with the three of them, Lucas felt like he was slowly boiling in a cooking pot. His heart was racing and his dick, although not rock hard, felt like it was filling with warm blood. He took himself for a break to the kitchen, leaning up against the counter and trying to rationalise it all in his brain. Perhaps it was the fact that Talon was in there with them. Lucas felt himself fantasising about the sexy guy touching his body in the same way that Sarah was now doing with Jay. He started to wish that he had the sort of softness that Talon would go crazy for.

Reaching into the fridge, Lucas grabbed one of the special shakes and drained it. What had been a curious way to get Talon’s attention all week had just become something his dick and his growling stomach now screamed for. He opened his throat and released the accidentally swallowed air in one long and discreet burp; then tipped up a second shake, consuming it with a lustful desperation that he had never known before. Two whole shakes and he still wasn’t satisfied, searching in the cupboard for cookies or treats; something that might help to scratch the incredible itch that he now had. His stomach was bloating. He could see the shape of it under his shirt. Each day this week, it had looked more and more extreme than the last. He could take more. He could do it. 

There was still one more shake in the fridge, but now some of the guys were walking in after coming back from the bar. Talon was coming in too, chatting to one of them when his eyes seemed to spot the empty containers of shake now discarded by the sink. He looked over at Lucas and raised his eyebrows, smirking with surprise. 

Lucas squirmed a little. Up until now, he had felt so in control of this. Now he felt almost embarrassed to have been caught in the act. The guys were all chatting around him, yet Talon’s smirk seemed to penetrate right into Lucas’ very soul. The sexy guy reached into the fridge for a beer, slying and casually passing Lucas the final shake, as if he had known that his hungry housemate had wanted it. He positioned his tall, imposing body in front of Lucas as he continued to chat with the other guys, shielding him from view in a very deliberate way that would allow Lucas to drink it down without the others seeing and questioning why he was having it.

Lucas turned his back, lifted the bottle and chugged, feeling his stomach getting tighter than ever before. At one point, after he had snuck away, he thought he might even be sick. He took himself upstairs and lingered in the bathroom for a moment, until he realised that he could indeed keep it down. He needed to sleep though, and, although he couldn’t be certain, he was fairly sure that an entirely new batch of shakes would be ready and waiting for him by the morning.

“Ten pounds,” Lucas announced one morning in the middle of the following week. He smiled pleasantly, knowing that Talon wouldn’t need any further context to know what he was referring to.

There came that grin and the devilish twinkle in Talon’s eyes. “Not a bad start…” he considered playfully. “I had noticed your…” he nodded down at Lucas’ middle.

Lucas immediately began to rub at his stomach. What he had considered to be nothing more than a simple bloat was clearly something a lot more serious, given how it remained in place, even that morning. 

“You may notice a slight difference in the taste of the shakes from today,” Talon went on. “I’m trying something new to see how it works.”

Lucas had intended his announcement that he had gained ten pounds to draw a line under the whole matter; a way to take back some control of the situation. He’d tried Talon’s shakes and they had worked. He’d clearly gained weight, both on the scales and in his slightly altered body shape. Case closed. Yet, seeing the way Talon was so quietly thrilled, Lucas’ resolve to quit was slowly ebbing away.

“We’ll have to start thinking about your clothes in a couple of weeks,” Talon went on. “Especially if these new shakes work out the way I think they will. Some of your stuff is already looking a little… distressed,” he smiled, genuinely delighted with himself.

Lucas’s heart raced. Was it the fact that Talon had been taking a keen interest in his body over the last two weeks, or was it the way he had suggested that he wanted to be involved in picking out new clothes for him to wear?

Talon looked over Lucas’ shoulder to check that no one else was lingering around. “I’ve got to ask this,” he whispered slyly. “May I see it?” Then, with that, he glanced quickly down at Lucas’ middle, leaving him in no doubt about what he was referring to.

Peering to check for himself, Lucas inhaled and braced himself. He lifted his shirt just a little; enough for Talon to see that his stomach muscles had been coated and the thickening middle was a more permanent feature than just a simple bloat.

Talon bit down on his bottom lip. “Oh… shit!” he marvelled. His large hands twitched, like he wanted to reach out and touch, but he resisted.

Lucas grabbed at the softening flesh around his waist. He now understood everything Talon had said in the past about fat; it really was erotic to feel that blubber under the skin. It was the reason why his next sentence seemed to bypass his brain entirely. “I think I want more,” he whispered, gazing longingly into Talon’s eyes as if he was the only person in the whole world who could fulfil that wish.

“How much more?” Talon asked, with a lustful urgency to his voice.

“I want a proper belly,” Lucas replied, picturing it in his head. “I want to be bigger than Jay. I think I could be huge.” Still feeling the fresh fat invading his stomach, Lucas’ lust began to overtake him. “I’m starting to think…. I think I want to be soft and squishy everywhere!”

“Oh, fuck!” Talon cried, losing all composure, his hands writhing with longing, until at last they strapped themselves onto Lucas’ hips and he pulled him in for the most passionate kiss that there had ever been.

Within moments, a shake had been pulled from the refrigerator and handed to Lucas. He tipped his head back, trying to keep a keen eye on the horny guy in front of him and then swallowed with expertise. 

“Shit!” Talon gasped, watching Lucas’ stomach bloating before his very eyes. “Look at you!”

Lucas burped discreetly, feeling the relief instantly, even as the shake was completed. “I want another!” he announced, pleased that his stomach wasn’t feeling even slightly full yet.

“Come on,” Talon whispered, pulling Lucas by his hand until he reached the refrigerator. He passed him another bottle to hold, then grabbed one himself and pulled Lucas through the living space and into his bedroom on the first floor. Once inside, the door was closed and the horny boy put the bottles to the side, pulling off both of their shirts and kissing Lucas with even more passion than before. In those moments, Lucas felt as though the world only existed for the two of them. Talon’s kisses were so intense, his large, roaming hands so skilled and effective, Lucas felt like he would never want to leave this room again.

After a minute or so, Talon’s intense arousal seemed to overspill into a need for action. He reached out for one of the bottles and popped the spout ready.

“Head back. Open your mouth,” the horny guy gently whispered, getting ready to tip it in. He seemed to shudder with lust when Lucas gladly did as he had requested. His free hand rubbed all over the swelling body, roaming from place to place like a kid at a candy store. “You’re amazing!” he breathed, seeing the contents of the bottle getting sucked down with increible speed.

Now Lucas was feeling it. The first shake had barely touched the sides, but this second one had left its mark. He wriggled uncomfortably and tried to turn slightly away from Talon so that he could burp up some of the gas. Talon simply lay his big hand on his back, as if to help. Then, in one giant, epic flow, the swallowed air came rolling up Lucas’ throat, catching him completely off-guard. Unlike the other guys in this house, Lucas wasn’t accustomed to burping in front of an audience, especially in such an extreme and noisy manner. But Talon seemed to love it, nuzzing his nose against the side of Lucas’ cheek and whispering ‘well done’ as if he now felt closer to him than ever before.

By the time Talon’s pants came down and the hunk’s thick, oversized hardness went on display, Lucas felt ready for the third shake. This time, he took the reins himself, sipping it down bit by bit whilst Talon stroked both of their erections. Lucas knew he couldn’t last long in this situation and, by the sounds and horny looks Talon was giving him, the athletic guy wasn’t going to last much longer either. By the time they both came, Lucas had leaned right back into Talon’s side, tipping the last few drops down his throat and wishing, more powerfully than ever before that he would one day have the capacity to keep going: to be Talon’s ultimate glutton.

Lucas had never imagined just how erotic it would feel to have his stomach stretched and admired as much as it was over the coming weeks. Despite Talon’s hedonistic, self-gratifying manner, Lucas could tell that the guy had fallen for him, hard. He could see the love in Talon’s eyes every single time they spoke; he felt cared for; worshipped even. And, perhaps best of all, there was very quickly a lot more of him for the big hunk to love. Just as Talon had promised him, the shakes and the food were packing on an ever thickening layer of blubber across his entire body. The mass of it was building in his stomach and spreading outwards into his glutes and thighs; not to mention his face, arms and chest. Very soon, his small pauch would pop out enough to become his actual belly, and neither of them could wait. It was almost unbelievable just how fast it was all happening; how quickly a guy could go from ‘fit’ to pure fat.

“This is more weight than you put on Jay now, don’t you think?” Lucas asked, enoying a naked Talon jiggling and kissing his new belly fat from down below as he himself lay on his back, completely satisfied after the most incredible sex they’d had yet. Talon truly was a master at everything he set his mind to. It was why his body was so sculpted, why his college assignments always came back with top grades (even with seemingly minimal effort) and why Lucas’ waistline already felt so absolutely out of control since his new lover had taken over his diet.

“I’d say so,” Talon agreed, lost in awe as he played with and admired the plush softness that he had created in Lucas’ stomach. “Although Sarah is definitely making her mark. When I saw Jay the other day his ass was looking…”

“Huge!” Lucas finished for him, nodding with complete agreement. “How has Sarah even done that? How has she got him to gain so much just on his ass?”

“It’s nothing more than genetics,” Talon shrugged. “Some people simply store fat differently to others. I could tell quite quickly that Jay was going to be a bit more padded in his rear than most. It’s one of the many things Sarah absolutely loves about his fatter body.”

“You talked to Sarah about all this?” Lucas asked in surprise. “Does she know what you did?”

“Of course,” Talon chuckled, as if he was surprised that Lucas didn’t already know that. “I picked up a lot of information about him that she needed to know: his favourite fatty foods, bad eating habits, his usual eating schedule. It’s important. I wrote it all down for her, even before their first date.”

Lucas’ eyes popped with even more surprise. He’d always assumed that Talon had just been having fun with Jay. He never realised how specifically he had targetted him. “Does that mean you keep notes on how to fatten me up?” Lucas asked, feeling strangely aroused by the idea.

Taon smirked, not answering straight away. “Of course I do,” he smiled. “With Jay, it was just a few scribbled sheets of information. But I’ve got an entire notebook on you,” he laughed, resuming his kissing of Lucas’ belly; only looking back up as he felt Lucas’ resurrected hardness tapping him on his broad chest. “I’m guessing that someone quite likes that idea?” he whispered in his deep, sexy voice.

“What if someone ever accidentally reads that notebook though?” Lucas asked in a slight panic.

Talon simply laughed at the idea and couldn’t have seemed more laid back about it if he had tried. “Well then, they would read in great detail all about how your very wicked, evil feeder is deliberately turning you into his perfect, chubby piggy!” he whispered seductively, kissing and jiggling the new blubber even more.

Overcome by lust for the idea, Lucas shot out with the only request his horny mind could focus on. “Talon, I want you to make my ass fatter than Jay’s!”

Talon smiled, as if he had planned everything perfectly; as if he had known weeks in advance that Lucas would make this demand of him. “You really don’t need to worry about that,” he grinned. “I know exactly what I’m going to do to you.” He laughed. “It’s all there, in black and white, all the way through my notebook!”

With that, strong Talon effortlessly twisted Lucas’ hips over so that the chubby guy was very suddenly lying on his front instead. Talon moaned in appreciation, Lucas’ thicker butt now level with his face. Lucas started giggling as the handsome man began kissing and worshipping his large glutes, feeling ever so slightly ticklish. Talon sighed with awe and lust, marvelling as Lucas’ ass got softer and squishier with each passing day. 

“Trust me, Lucas, I’ve got BIG plans for this thing!”

[illfoandillfie]

Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

Pairing: Rich Fuckboy!Ben Hardy x Fem!Reader

Summery:  An unexpected call from Ben results in an unexpected evening.

Warnings: Smut (18+), Rich kid dickishness, dom/sub dynamics, mostly dom ben and sub reader, but also a little round the other way, a fair bit of derogatory/degrading language (esp whore), edging, cockwarming, a little spanking, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking, piv sex, begging, bondage, forced orgasm. I think thats all.

Words: 12,890

A/N: Wasn't necessarily planning to write more of rich bitch Benny but then I saw some promo pics for his movie Love At First Sight and something in my brain booted up. This was written over a stupidly long time, literally months, so hopefully its okay lmao. Also please excuse any weird formatting. The way tumblr works, paragraphs can't be more than 4096 characters so some of the dialogue had to be broken up to make it postable.

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming@queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

“You get two questions.”  “Five,” Bianca countered.  “Two. I want to have a shower.”  “Fine.” She agreed, disgruntled. Bianca had ambushed you the second you got home, having stayed up waiting on the couch to hear all about your date with Ben. She’d listened patiently, laughing or nodding and squealing a little, as you told her about the restaurant he’d chosen and the club and ending up on the yacht. But when you’d admitted you had slept with him, she got so excited you were a little worried she’d forget to breathe. Bianca thought for a moment, choosing which of her questions were most worth asking, “Okay, one, was he good? Like did you get off?”  “Yeah, he was very good,” you smiled to yourself thinking about just how good he’d been, following all your orders.  Bianca seemed a little relieved that the exceptional lover she’d fantasised about so many times could live up to the image. “Was he into any weird kinks?”  You thought for a moment, contemplating how little you could get away with saying, “Nothing super unusual. But y’know that’s stuff you don’t necessarily bring out the first time.”  “Nothing kinky? Not even like some bondage or spitting or anything?”  “You asked me about weird! Yeah there was a little bondage. Spanking too.” 

"I knew it!” she said before the loudest squeal yet and you hurried to shush her before a neighbour complained.  “He was hung right? Please god tell me he was hung.”  “Thats more than two questions.”  “Fuck, c’mon Y/N. Just describe his dick for me. I've been trying to picture it for years, it’d be mean of you not to tell me.”  You laughed, enjoying teasing her but you felt a little bad for sleeping with her celebrity crush so held up your hands to demonstrate an approximate length, “Comparisons could be drawn to horses.”  Her eyes lit up like it was Christmas, “I knew it.”  “He wasn’t super thick but he was decently long. Nothing crazy but more than enough. Very slight curve.”  She’d closed her eyes and hummed as you described him, “It’s beautiful,” she said dreamily.  Laughing, you bid her goodnight, looking forward to showering and then heading to bed, but once more she stopped you.   “Wait, are you going to sell the story?”  “Oh, I can’t. He made me sign an NDA. I’ve probably said too much already so don’t go repeating it okay.”  “So that’s why no one ever spills too many details.”  “Yeah, must be.” You felt a little bad for lying but you really wanted to shower, and you knew she’d ask more questions if you admitted you didn’t want to tell anyone now. If the night had gone more to Ben’s plan, if you’d let him be in control, you wouldn’t have had any qualms about writing to a magazine with the big scoop. But he’d obviously cultivated a particular image in the public conscious, one that didn’t necessarily align with ideas of him as a willing, even eager, submissive. The thought of selling that story made you feel dirty in a way the other versions just wouldn’t. So, at the end of the night you’d promised to keep it a secret, even if that meant remaining poor. You’d gotten to domme The Benjamin Hardy after all, what more did you need.

As it happened, it wasn’t so much what you needed, but rather what Ben did. Around two weeks after your night together, you answered a call from a private number, hoping it wasn’t a scam caller. Your surprise at hearing Ben’s voice saying your name was rivalled only by his apparent surprise that he was calling.  “Um, what’s this about?” you felt entirely caught off guard.  “I- well, I guess I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me tonight?” It didn’t sound so much like he was asking you, as he was questioning his decision to call.  You laughed, stepping into your cupboard and pulling the door closed so you’d be less likely to be overheard. The darkness made everything feel more surreal than it already did, “You already bored of the airheads who just do what you say?”  He scoffed, his uncertainty falling away at the first opportunity to be a tosser, “No, actually, I’m looking for an easy shag. Most of my regular options are at this fashion thing this weekend but I knew you wouldn’t be invited.”  “Fashion event? Is that what they told you? They’re probably off trying for a different sugar daddy.”  “Good luck to them. They’ll all be back, but my cock’s hard now.”  You rolled your eyes, “C’mon Benny, you don’t have to lie to me. Just admit you liked what I did to you and want me to do it again.”  “I just liked your cunt.”  “You liked me threatening to peg you.”  He paused for a beat, “I like the idea of fucking your arse more.”  “Okay, this is cute,” you said, growing bored of his asshole attitude, “but I’ve got better things to do. Bye Ben.”  “Wait, don’t hang up.”   You let him hang in silence for a few seconds before saying, “I’m listening,” intrigued by the way the bravado had dropped from his voice.  “Would you like to get dinner with me?”  “Just dinner?”  “Yes. Your call if anything else happens.”  You hummed in thought, weighing up your options. On one hand, Bianca would freak out at even the smallest hint there was more than just a one-night stand between you and Ben. And you didn’t really feel like being paraded in front of cameras or his boorish friends again. But on the other, you’d clearly awoken something in Ben. To the point where he seemed willing to go out with you again, even without the promise of sex. And that was after just one night of being edged....imagine what you could do with more time. “Okay, dinner sounds nice. But not at that ridiculous place you took me last time.”  “You didn’t like it there?”  “It was nice, but the cameras are a bit of a buzzkill.”  “Well I can get us in anywhere else, but the paparazzi will find me wherever we go.”  “So then let me pick where we eat.”  “Do you have a standing reservation at any Michelin star restaurants?”  “No but they’re not the only places to eat in this city.” you only just managed not to call him an idiot.  “The only worthwhile ones. Michelin literally means delicious in French.”  “It’s a tire company Ben, it means jack shit. Just let me pick where we eat.”  “Fine, but only if I’m guaranteed a shag. A good one, that I get to control.”  “What happened to just dinner?”  “I think we both know just dinner wasn’t really going to happen. You liked my cock too much. But if I’m not allowed to choose where we go, you’re not allowed to dom me.”  “But isn’t that the entire reason you called?”  “Not the entire reason. I’ll have you know there were ulterior motives.”

As it happened, it wasn’t so much what you needed, but rather what Ben did. Around two weeks after your night together, you answered a call from a private number, hoping it wasn’t a scam caller. Your surprise at hearing Ben’s voice saying your name was rivalled only by his apparent surprise that he was calling.  “Um, what’s this about?” you felt entirely caught off guard.  “I- well, I guess I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me tonight?” It didn’t sound so much like he was asking you, as he was questioning his decision to call.  You laughed, stepping into your cupboard and pulling the door closed so you’d be less likely to be overheard. The darkness made everything feel more surreal than it already did, “You already bored of the airheads who just do what you say?”  He scoffed, his uncertainty falling away at the first opportunity to be a tosser, “No, actually, I’m looking for an easy shag. Most of my regular options are at this fashion thing this weekend but I knew you wouldn’t be invited.”  “Fashion event? Is that what they told you? They’re probably off trying for a different sugar daddy.”  “Good luck to them. They’ll all be back, but my cock’s hard now.”  You rolled your eyes, “C’mon Benny, you don’t have to lie to me. Just admit you liked what I did to you and want me to do it again.”  “I just liked your cunt.”  “You liked me threatening to peg you.”  He paused for a beat, “I like the idea of fucking your arse more.”  “Okay, this is cute,” you said, growing bored of his asshole attitude, “but I’ve got better things to do. Bye Ben.”  “Wait, don’t hang up.”   You let him hang in silence for a few seconds before saying, “I’m listening,” intrigued by the way the bravado had dropped from his voice.  “Would you like to get dinner with me?”  “Just dinner?”  “Yes. Your call if anything else happens.”  You hummed in thought, weighing up your options. On one hand, Bianca would freak out at even the smallest hint there was more than just a one-night stand between you and Ben. And you didn’t really feel like being paraded in front of cameras or his boorish friends again. But on the other, you’d clearly awoken something in Ben. To the point where he seemed willing to go out with you again, even without the promise of sex. And that was after just one night of being edged....imagine what you could do with more time. “Okay, dinner sounds nice. But not at that ridiculous place you took me last time.”  “You didn’t like it there?”  “It was nice, but the cameras are a bit of a buzzkill.”  “Well I can get us in anywhere else, but the paparazzi will find me wherever we go.”  “So then let me pick where we eat.”  “Do you have a standing reservation at any Michelin star restaurants?”  “No but they’re not the only places to eat in this city.” you only just managed not to call him an idiot.  “The only worthwhile ones. Michelin literally means delicious in French.”  “It’s a tire company Ben, it means jack shit. Just let me pick where we eat.”  “Fine, but only if I’m guaranteed a shag. A good one, that I get to control.”  “What happened to just dinner?”  “I think we both know just dinner wasn’t really going to happen. You liked my cock too much. But if I’m not allowed to choose where we go, you’re not allowed to dom me.”  “But isn’t that the entire reason you called?”  “Not the entire reason. I’ll have you know there were ulterior motives.”

By the time Ben pulled up you were waiting out on the street. You’d decided it was best to get out without Bianca finding out who you were going out with, just to minimize the questions and potential jealousy or excitement. You weren’t sure which direction her emotions would go in. So you’d twisted the truth a little to make it sound like Ben was a random guy you’d matched with on tinder. Bianca had been interested but not as overbearing as she might have been had she known, her questions more general ones about where you were going and how long you’d been messaging the guy. Ben seemed a little surprised when he saw you waitingbut got out and held the limo door open for you.   “Worried if I came up you’d forget yourself and just have to get my cock out?”  You snorted, “No, I just don’t want Bianca to know I’m going out with you again.”  “Bianca....why does that name sound familiar?”  “She’s my roommate. I mentioned her last time. She was with me when we met and you first asked me out.”  “Oh, right, the chick who puked.” Ben laughed, “You worried she’d be jealous? Should have invited her, she sounds easy and you know that’s my type.”  “Ben,” you said firmly, beginning to regret not just hanging up on him, “you know that sort of comment isn’t going to work on me, especially since you’re talking about my friend. Now either stop acting like such a prick, or I will go back upstairs and block your number. There is no one here who is going to be impressed by your bullshit.  “Sorry.” He said softly and surprisingly sincerely, “You look nice, by the way.”  “Sure you don’t want to tell me I should have dressed sluttier?” You waved a hand in front of yourself, indicating the dress you’d chosen. It was neither as short, nor as tight, as the dress you’d worn last time, falling to your knees, not clinging to your skin. The only vaguely revealing part of the dress was a little bit of cleavage on display and even that wasn’t much.   “No, it suits you. And you look lovely in it.”   You were a little suspicious but chose to accept the complement, thanking Ben before saying, “I did do as you asked though. No underwear.”  He tried not to look too pleased, “Can I see?”  “Not yet.”  “What if I promise to go down on you until we get to wherever you’re taking me – which is where by the way?”  You gave him the address and he passed it on to the driver.  “So?” he asked as the car began to move, “You know I know how to eat pussy.”  You rolled your eyes, though you felt that at least his tact included offering to pleasure you rather than just himself, “No. Not yet.”  “I thought you promised to be my whore,” he pouted. Ben still wasn’t used to not getting his way immediately, “My whores do what I say when I say it.”  “Well we both know that doesn’t work with me, does it baby,” you weren’t sure how far Ben would let you push him, but it was fun to test the waters. He made a low rumbly sound, almost a growl, and for a moment you wondered if he’d put his hand on your throat like last time, attempt to intimidate you into complying. Instead, he just nodded and subtly palmed the front of his pants.  “I know I let you maul me in this limo last time,” you felt confident enough that he wouldn’t try anything to continue, “but that was when I was trying to lull you into a false sense of domination. So we’re going to have dinner first and you’re going to be nice to me. And then, once we’re on the way to your place, that’s when I’ll let you take control.”  Ben was quiet for a moment, contemplating what you’d said. You could see his habitual tendencies to objectify every women he talked to were battling with his clear enjoyment of being bossed around, “Okay, deal. But you’ll be fucking in for it later.”

“Who’s house is this?” Ben asked as he offered you a hand out of the limo, the bag of food in his other. You leant back in to grab the bottle of champagne and the glasses, able to feel Ben ogling the hem of your dress as it rose up the back of your legs, “It’s not the house we’re here for, c’mon.” You led him around the corner and up a little alley that ran behind the houses. Ben scrunched up his nose a little, “Bit…dingy isn’t it. Not really the sort of place I want to eat. Quickie during a party is a different story though.” You ignored him, leading him further down the path until it opened out into a little garden which was surrounded by trees, making it feel removed from the outside world. Ben’s dissatisfaction with the alley turned into a bemused approval, “Well this is quite nice. You set it up yourself?” “No, the lights got put up for a Christmas party a few years back and they just left them up.” Ben looked around at the twinkling white solar lights draped throughout the tree branches, “Well it’s not what I was expecting but it’s nice. Cute. Little bit romantic even with the moonlight and all. Well done.” You laughed a little and took the bag from him as you sat down in the middle of a circle of stone pavers, pulling out the few dishes you’d ordered as well as some paper plates and bamboo cutlery. Ben watched you for a while until you told him to sit down. He warily crouched down, brushing leaf litter from a patch before he sat proper. When he caught your raised eyebrow he shrugged, “This suit is worth more than you make in a year. Not even the best cunt in the world could make me ruin it.” “You think I have the best cunt in the world? I’m flattered,” you continued dishing up the food, handing a plate to Ben. “That’s not what I meant. We’ll see after tonight though. If you behave and take me the way I want, you might be in the running.” You did your best to hide a smile, trying not to give away how amusing his comment was. That is, until he took it too far and your smile turned into an eye roll. “Although, to really be sure I’d have to have all the contenders lined up for me to test out one after another. Hmmm, now that’s a thought." You cleared your throat, hoping a gentle reminder would be enough but Ben remained lost in pornographically unrealistic fantasies, the outline of his cock much more visible than it had been a moment before. “Fork Ben?” you asked, tempted to poke him with the implement.” “You’ve gotten eager but alright.” This time you did poke him, just quickly in the shoulder, emphasising correct articulation as you repeated, “Fork.” “Ow, alright.” He took the cutlery from you, “you’re the one who was talking about cunts though. Can’t blame me for mishearing.” Before you could do more than huff in response Ben quickly said, “So, you gonna explain this place to me? Because I can tell you, if we’re caught trespassing here, we’ll definitely end up in the papers and that sort of publicity is much less fun than being seen at a nice restaurant.”

You shook your head as you settled back with your own plate, “No, we have permission to be here. Hows the food by the way?” “Incredible. Can’t believe I haven’t heard of them before.” “Well they don’t have any Michelin stars so maybe that’s why. And don’t you start telling your rich friends about it. I don’t want you ruining my favourite Thai place.” Ben laughed, “So when you say we have permission to be here what do you mean?” “Well, I grew up in this area actually. One street over, but I used to come to this spot a lot. It was designed to be a little community garden, there’s still some planters over along the fence, but mostly it gets used for street parties and things, so usually it was empty. I used to come here when I wanted to be alone. It seemed so secret and secluded and, I don’t know, kind of magical I guess. I mean, now I know it wasn’t quite as secret as I thought. The house that we’re behind can see directly between those two trees,” you pointed at them, “and the old couple who used to live there were friends with my parents, so they’d keep an eye on me. And then when I was a bit older I did some baby sitting for their daughter who eventually moved back into the house to look after her parents and who still lives there now since she inherited it.” “So she can see us? Didn’t know you were into exhibitionism.” “She’s overseas at the moment. But our families have kept in contact and when I said I had a date I wanted to bring here she said it’d be fine.” “Condemning silence about exhibitionism which I’ve definitely filed away. But this place is nice. A little dirty perhaps, but nice.” He had another mouthful and then said, “So, why exactly did you bring me here?” “Isn’t that obvious?” He hummed thoughtfully, “Because you’re a dirty girl who likes doing it outside? Because you didn’t want me to have home ground advantage? Because you don’t like the idea of other women having me and this way you get me all to yourself? Am I getting close?” “I wanted to see you away from the cameras and the fawning models and the arseholes you call friends. I wanted a nice, normal sort of a night where we weren’t going to end up on the front page of every gossip website. And I wanted to see if you were a prick even without an audience.” “Please, you like it” he scoffed teasingly, “And I don’t understand what you’ve got against having your photo taken. I told you last time that being seen is half the fun. I mean, don’t me wrong, this is nice too. Just a bit boring in comparison.” “Mmm, well I’m sure there’ll be plenty of articles speculating on where you were tonight since no one’s got a picture.” Ben perked up a little at the idea, “That’s a good point. Maybe a quiet night every so often isn’t a bad idea.”

For the next little while, as you finished your dinner, Ben oscillated between total sweetheart and utter dickhead, as though he were playing Double Dutch with the line between. You’d hoped that getting him on his own would discourage some of the behaviours he’d displayed last time you’d been with him. If he wasn’t around his idiot friends, he’d have no one to objectify women with. If you weren’t at a restaurant, none of his previous or prospective conquests could remind him of wild nights that he’d then tell you all about. If he couldn’t throw money around in order to buy your company for the night, he’d have to offer stimulating conversation and a genuine reason for your interest instead. But apparently it was not as cause and effect as you’d assumed and Ben still managed to do all the things you’d hoped to avoid. And if anything, being alone with him with no other women to distract made him even more intent on getting you out of your clothes. He suggested first that dinner would taste better eaten off your tits. And then when you tried to come up with a new topic of conversation, he decided to reminisce about a time he’d seduced a TV personality on the set of a cooking show after they’d both been judging it. And every time you took a sip of champagne he’d watch as if telepathically trying to get you drunk. The annoying thing was that in between he was absolutely delightful. You knew there was a decent man buried beneath the layers of wankery his affluent lifestyle had imbued him with. But it was only after he smiled charmingly, leaned in close, and suggested you give him a quick handy if you weren’t going to lift your skirt, that you grew fed up enough to voice the opinion you’d formed about his style of flirting. “Y’know, I thought you’d be better at it.” “Better at what?” he asked suspiciously, “I can assure you I’m incredible at it, you just need a proper demonstration.” “No not that. Flirting. I mean, that is what you’re trying to do isn’t it?” “Obviously,” he said, taken aback. “I guess you’ve never had to really try have you? You were blessed with looks and money. Probably never been turned down in your life, even when you should have been.” “What are you talking about? Don’t tell me you actually are as dumb as the rest of them. And here I was thinking fucking your brains out would be an actual accomplishment.” “No, I just….it’s not good flirting. You realise that right?” “What do you mean not good flirting? It works every time.” “No, I think it’s the money that works every time. Being rich means you can get away with a lot of other bullshit.” When he seemed likely to try and contradict you, you spoke over the top of him, “Listen, I know I can’t speak for every woman you hit on but I can tell you that if an average looking guy with an average amount of money tried to flirt the way you do, he would be shot down. Very, very quickly. For the most part women don’t want to be degraded by random guys they go out with. And they don’t want to hear about all your other conquests when you’re hitting on them.” “Well what would you know,” he said, crossing his arms in sullen defensiveness.

You turned up the condescension, “Aww baby, I get it. You’ve never had to learn how to keep a girl interested without buying her attention." Ben was still pouting but his expression had changed, less cocksure. “It’s okay baby, I’ll keep you in line.” Ben gave half a nod but then paused, “Hey, wait. Stop making me feel subby, I’m meant to be domming tonight.” You laughed at how he sounded almost like he was going to throw a tantrum, “but it’s so easy and fun.” “Well turning you into a fucked out cockslut will be fun too.” There was a short pause and then Ben, much more seriously said, “But you really think my flirting is bad?” “I hate to break it to you but, kinda yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s not all bad. You just need some work. Sometimes you take things a bit far with the teasy banter.” “Like when?” “Hmmm well, just before when you were bragging about how expensive your suit is – which is pretty unsexy by the way – and then I countered with a joke about having the best cunt in the world. Personally I didn’t mind your come back about making me behave or whatever. It was a little crass maybe but not too much more than what I’d said, and since we both know I’m letting you take charge tonight it was a bit hot. But then you took it too far by inventing a scenario in which you would have the chance to compare me to other women. We went from hot to ick in a matter of seconds.” “I’m pretty sure I was implying that you would win.” “Didn’t really sound like it and absolutely not the point. How can I put it? When you talk to me like I’m a normal human being not something put in front of you for your sexual gratification, when we have a proper conversation with a little bit of banter, that’s fun and enjoyable and makes me want to sleep with you. But then you’ll tell me about some other woman you had sex with or you’ll make a derogatory comment about my friend, whom you’ve not even properly met, or you’ll act like you expect me to get my tits out as, I don’t know, decoration while you eat. Basically anything to imply that the only reason you’re even here with me is to have sex.” “But that was the agreement.” “I know. And I am totally fine with having a night out with the expectation it’ll end in sex. But it would be nice, and it would make me want to fuck you more, if you acted like getting laid wasn’t the only thing you care about. Especially because sometimes it’s like you don’t even care who you have sex with as long as you get off, like you have no interest in if I enjoy it, you just want to use me cause I'm there.” “And that’s bad?” “As a flirting technique yes.” “But it’s a complement? And I’ve been with loads of women who say being used is hot.” “Well it’s not the nicest complement ever. And I’m not saying it isn’t hot in some situations. But not everyone likes it and even women who do enjoy it don’t necessarily want it all the time or with someone they’ve never slept with before.” “Lighten up, it’s a bit of fun and I always get them off." “Yeah but you imply that you don’t care if they cum or not which makes you seem like a bit of an asshole. Plus sometimes it can come off a little rapey. Less like a ‘I don’t care if you cum’ and more of a ‘I don’t care if you actually want it’ type thing. I don’t think I need to tell you why that’s unattractive.” “I- no- how,” Ben spluttered before he finally managed, “I would never!” “I’m not saying you have and I’m not saying you would. But sometimes you can come off a bit like that, even if it’s well intentioned. Last time we went out you pinned me down in the back of your car, your hand on my throat, and told me I was going to do everything you wanted. You were practically a stranger, I didn’t know where we were, I had no quick way of leaving partly because we were in your car and partly because of the stupidly high shoes I was wearing. It was kind of threatening. I mean I know that wasn’t your intention but…” you trailed off letting Ben absorb what you’d said.

“I really didn’t realise that’s how I sounded, I’m sorry.” “It’s okay. I was never scared or anything, I didn’t think you would rape me. And I don’t say this to accuse you of something or to be mean. I’m just sick of some of the things you’ve been saying, and I think you deserve to know that what you think is cheeky flirting can come across differently to the women you’re flirting with. "Um, well, thanks I guess. ‘Spose it is better for me to know. Don’t want to get cancelled or whatever, father would kill me. So, do you want me to take you home now?” “What? No, not at all.” “I don’t want you to think you have to sleep with me. If you want to end tonight early, I’m okay with that.” “Oh, baby, no, that’s not what I want. I came here knowing I’d end up in your bed and I think we can still have fun. Besides, I’m still eating.” “Are you sure? Wouldn’t think you’d still be up for it after everything you said.” “To tell the truth I'd really love to dom you now. Punish you for some of the gross bullshit you’ve said, put you in your place again. But we made a deal and I’m very happy to hold to it.” “Really? I think you killed my boner.” You giggled, “Well if you don’t want to, we can just finish dinner and you can drop me home. But I think I can get you back up.” Ben eyed you suspiciously, “How?” “I train you to behave better.” He shifted surreptitiously but didn’t say anything. “We stay here, finish dinner, finish his bottle of champagne, talk for a bit. But every time you say something I would consider bad flirting technique, I will do something to remind you to be better. Pull your hair, maybe edge you, whatever will get the message across.” “I guess that could be fun.” Ben said, trying to sound as if he didn’t mind and failing, “Not really the deal we made though.” You laughed, “Are you telling me that wouldn’t make you want revenge? Being edged and teased when you were meant to be in charge. Wouldn’t that rile you up. Make you want to turn the tables, show me who’s boss. I mean, all your cocky dom behaviour is what got me wanting to tie you up last time, but maybe it doesn’t work like that for you.” “Oh! I hadn’t thought of it like that.” “Because you like when I tell you what to do.” “No. Well maybe a bit. But mostly because I feel bad and thought I should just do what you want so you’d know I wouldn’t, like, hurt you or whatever. I mean, I would have expected another night for you to make it up to me but…” “It is tempting but I’ll admit I might have some ulterior motives for letting you dom me,” you leaned closer to Ben as if you were about to reveal a big secret, “You can learn a lot about how to control a guy by letting him control you. So I’m happy to let you do virtually anything you want to me. With a few exceptions.” “What sort of exceptions?” “I don’t mind anal play,” you dropped into a more serious tone rather than the sultry one you’d slipped into, “but I haven’t done any prep for it so none of it tonight please. Also, I would prefer any marks left are in easy to hide places. Concealer can be bloody expensive and I don’t want to waste any on whatever hickeys and bruises you want to leave. And I’m not super into choking. I don’t mind a hand on my neck but no squeezing if possible.” Ben hummed, “But everything else is on the cards? Mouth and cunt? Spanking? Hair pulling? Tying you up?” “Mmhmm. Whatever you want. As soon as we’re back in that car of yours. Of course, if you’re feeling all subby then that could be what you want.” A low rumble emanated from Ben’s throat as if he were growling and it made you intrigued and a little wet. But you did your best to play it cool, “See, looks like we’re fixing your boner already.”

Fortunately for you, it seemed to take Ben a little while to grasp just what you considered inappropriate flirting. At first you kept your reminders small, giving him firm taps and small pinches, maybe cutting him off to tell him to try again. But, when the lessons didn’t seem to be sticking, you ramped it up a little. By the time you were finished with the food and had moved on to finishing the champagne, he once again tried to describe a night he’d spent with another women, going into unnecessary detail about her figure in less than polite terms. You let him talk as you undid his zip and reached into his pants. Ben hummed as your fingers stroked along his already semi hard length, easily pulled free since he’d not worn underwear either, “Your gonna try and outdo her now are you?” he asked, seemingly having forgotten your threats, “Hope you know how to suck properly cause she was an expert.” You didn’t respond, just kept focused on the handjob as Ben went back to describing what the young woman had done to him. His voice became strained as he got more excited, his cock well and truly hard within your grasp, beads of precum at his tip. “Why’d you stop?” he groaned when you removed your hand before he could finish. “I told you I’d edge you.” “I thought you were bluffing,” he admitted, his face flushed. “Oh I never joke about edging baby. Especially when I’m using it to correct bad behaviour.” “What’s to stop me just finishing myself off?” “Well then you obviously wouldn’t need me at all tonight.” Ben’s hand hovered over his cock for a moment before he moved it aside. “Good boy. Now tell me more about that art show you mentioned. Did you say there was an auction?”

“Um, yeah.” He blinked like he was trying to get his brain to switch thought, “Father thinks I should be seen at fundraisers and charity events more than at clubs and restaurants so I mostly went to keep him off my back. It was mostly pretty boring but I ended up winning this stunning painting, only good piece of the night. Very detailed nude. The tits on her, phwoar. I even met the model who posed for it. Wanted to com-” Ben cut himself off as you began wanking him again. “Sorry.” “Thank you for apologising baby,” you sped your hand up, figuring since he’d caught himself before he said anything really bad you wouldn’t draw this one out. “You can stop, I didn’t say anything.” “Aww baby, I still have to edge you. Otherwise you’ll never learn.” Ben swore when you did release him, his breath heavy as he said, “That wasn’t fair. I wasn’t even going to say anything bad. Besides your tits are better. Not as big but I’ve touched both and yours are better. No, no, please.” “You can come up with a better complement than that.” You sighed, as if edging him was a chore you didn’t enjoy. “Fucking bitch. I know this is just cause I’ve got the best cock you’ve ever had and you wanted an excuse to touch it.” “Amazingly, that’s worse. And it’ll cost you another three edges. One for calling me a bitch. One for being so far up your own ass you think I couldn’t possibly have had better. And one because I know you’re enjoying this and that’s why you keep saying the douchiest shit.” You pulled your hand away, “Thats one.” Ben whined when you started on the next, the break between only short. “Don’t cum,” you reminded him, “it will not stop me, I’ll just overstimulate you instead. Maybe then you’ll really learn your lesson.” “Please, please, close,” Ben managed to whimper, and you pulled your hand away again to reward him. Ben whined and pounded his fist against the ground once, but he managed to keep whatever thoughts he was having to himself. He was clearly learning. “Just one more, okay baby?” Ben nodded, leaning back on his elbows. His cockhead was dark and precum dripped down his shaft. He wouldn’t last if you began another edge too soon so you decided to toy with him in other ways while you waited. Pushing yourself to your knees, you gathered the hem of your dress in your fists and slowly began to raise it. “Wasn’t sure I believed you,” Ben said, not quite managing to sound as cocky as he had before the edges but making a valiant attempt “Good to know you can follow instructions.” He reached a hand out as if to touch your naked pussy but you tutted and grabbed his wrist. “Not yet, baby.” you shuffled closer, keeping the front of your dress lifted as you placed a knee on either side of his legs. “Now edge yourself for me.” Ben groaned with longing as he looked at your cunt, but then he switched to glaring at you as he did as you’d said, slowly working his hand along his shaft, aided by precum and a little of his own spit. You’d been fully prepared to rub yourself along his cock or even against his thigh if he’d made a fuss, but he hadn’t even tried to argue. He was clearly planning your demise, if his expression was anything to go by, but you had expected that and only minded in so much as you were missing out on the subby little face he made when you’d had him last and he’d given in completely. But you let him go, occasionally instructing him, but mostly just watching his reactions, seeing if you could pick when he was close. It didn’t take long for him to get there, whining as he pulled his hand back. “Good boy,” you let your dress drop again, leaning forward to carefully tuck his leaking cock back into his pants, hoping that just your touch wouldn’t set him off.

Settling back onto the rug you continued the conversation as if nothing had happened, sipping at your champagne. Ben drank his a little faster, still staring daggers at you from over the rim of his glass, even when responding to you. But he seemed to have learnt his lesson. Once or twice he started to say something but cut himself off and changed tact, and you ended up having a genuinely pleasant chat. He was still flirty, still explicit about how much he wanted to fuck you, just less obnoxious about it. You didn’t have to hear about any more of his previous sexual escapades at any rate, and he was attentive enough to make you feel like sex was only most of what he cared about. Finally, you decided to put him out of his misery and see what he had in store for you.  “Bottles empty."  “I’ve got more back at the hotel” Ben said, catching on instantly – the bottle had been empty for a little while.   “Perfect,” you smiled and let him help you to your feet, collecting the rubbish in the bag from the Thai place and dropping it into a bin out on the street as he hurried you back to the car. The driver stubbed out a cigarette on the road when he saw you approaching and was holding the door open by the time you reached him. 

You were barely inside when Ben put his hand on your knees, pushing your legs open. “Already?” you asked, breath hitching as he exposed you. “Are you kidding? After what you did tonight, you think I’d wait?” he leaned in closer, one hand sliding up your thigh as the other remained firm on your knee so you couldn’t close your legs again, “After last time you really think I wouldn’t be itching to get my hands on you? You got something no one else has had and I’m so fucking annoyed that I liked it. I went home so pissed off after we docked because I know that you could have me on my knees, at your beck and call, in an instant. And I can’t have you out there bragging about it, telling anyone else, or I’m ruined. Especially because I also love domming sluts. Now, we did your quiet little dinner thing, I listened to you criticise me and imply I don’t satisfy my women. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, I let you have some fun at my expense. You were obviously so desperate to get my cock out that you had to make up an excuse to touch me,” his fingers stroked against your cunt and he smirked as if your wetness was proving him right, “but that’s okay. I like my whores desperate.” You wanted to interrupt him, to tell him that he was wrong, or better yet to steal control from him again, but as soon as you opened your mouth his palm was covering it. “Shhh no, it’s my turn to talk. I think it’s time for you to have a lesson, a hard lesson, in what it means to be my whore. That was our deal anyway. So you’re going to be quiet and do what I want. Nod if you consent.” You decided you must have got through to him at least a little bit since he was now trying to make consent clear, it was a far cry from when he’d last had you pinned down in his limo anyway, and you had agreed to it beforehand. So you nodded. “You’re going to be an eager and willing slut for me aren’t you?” You nodded but it wasn’t enough for Ben who moved his hand away and ordered “repeat what you are.” “You’re eager and willing slut. Sir.” “That’s what I like to hear. And you will enjoy everything I do to you. That’s not a threat, that’s a promise. Now show me your cunt again.” He sat back and you readjusted yourself in the seat, hitching your dress up as you spread your legs wider. Ben hummed in appreciation, “Touch yourself for me.” You swallowed thickly and did as he asked, stroking your fingers over your lips, already a little wet from teasing him. But Ben expected more, “Do it properly. You know how big I am, get yourself ready so I can fit.”

It made you want to roll your eyes but you resisted the urge, ready to play along like you’d promised. Instead, you kept eye contact with him as you stuck your fingers in your mouth, slicking them up with saliva before moving them back down to your cunt. On another day you might have been able to use the position to your advantage, make him so eager for you with your display that you could take charge before he realised what was happening. You were certain that if you’d made Ben watch you fingering yourself last time he would have turned submissive before you even made it onto the yacht. But he seemed determined to give you a taste of your own medicine today. He made a pleased sound and just watched. There was definitely a tension to him – something in the way he sat back from you and how his hand rested on the edge of the seat as if he were about to dig his fingers into the soft leather to keep from giving in – but he kept up the appearance of nonchalance. Which made you less sure of your assessment, and more worried about what he had in store for you. By the time you were adding a third finger, you felt very flustered and warm. Ben hadn’t looked away once. He’d relaxed more, content with watching despite how he was straining against the fabric of his pants. He’d made a couple of comments to either instruct you more specifically, or to gloat about how following orders suited you. “You like to play at taking charge, but we both know you want a man like me to control you.” You shook your head but your defiance was undercut by a whine. Ben just laughed, “you’re cunt agrees with me. I can see how wet you are. I can hear it. Don’t think you’re wet enough to handle my cock yet though. Guess I should give you a hand.” He’d been slowly rolling up his sleeve as he spoke but once it was up he quickly moved to take over. His body boxed you in against the seat and he pulled your fingers free, replacing them with his own. You half expected him to reach for your throat like last time but he didn’t. He did however shove three large fingers into your cunt, making you whine a little at the extra stretch of them. “Knew you needed help,” he smirked as he began fingering you relentlessly, his movements shallow and fast but reaching deeper. After a few rapid strokes he added in a little curl of his fingers against your front wall and you moaned suddenly. The look Ben gave you was his most insufferable yet, entirely too pleased with himself, but there wasn’t much you could do since he was making you feel so good.

Entirely too quickly he stopped and you looked around confused, wondering if you’d arrived already.  Ben didn’t answer, more concerned with getting his pants undone and pushing them down.   You were about to suggest that maybe he was the desperate one when he sat down and beckoned you over.   “You wanted it so bad, whore, here you go.” When you didn’t move straight away he clicked his fingers, “I know it's a monster but your cunt can take it. C’mon.”  You moved closer and Ben grabbed your hips, manhandling you onto his lap, groaning as you sank down he shaft.  Your back was to Ben, so you braced your hands on his knees, assuming you were meant to ride him. But he stopped you, wrapping an arm around you to keep you still, “no don’t move. You can warm me for a bit while I explain the trouble you’re in.”  You squirmed, not out of a strong desire to exhaust yourself riding him, more to show he wouldn’t have it too easy, even if you had agreed to submit. Ben’s grip remained tight but his other hand did slip down to your pussy, his fingers finding your clit with surprising ease and rubbing it lightly. Not firm enough to get you very far but enough to make you want more.   “You’re going to get a taste of your own medicine. I’m going to make you wait, and I’m going to make you beg, and I’m going to have you as much as I can tonight. And maybe again in the morning if you’re lucky.”  “How do you know I’ll beg?”  “Well if you don’t that’ll be your problem. Because you won’t be cumming until you do. But, see, I’ll get off as much as I want. Your little edging game means that even just being in you has me close already. It gave me some ideas too.” That was when he started rubbing your clit properly, his fingertips pressing against it, pulling you closer to the edge.   You knew it wouldn’t last, that he’d stop before you got anywhere near orgasm, but that didn’t change how disappointing it was when he did. Especially because you involuntarily clenched around his cock at the sudden lack of stimulation, and heard Ben groan in your ear.  “God you feel good when I deny you,” he said as he started again.   You quickly lost track of how many edges you had and how long you’d been in the car.   Ben hadn’t had the satisfaction of hearing you beg, but he’d made you whine and whimper. And he’d had more actual satisfaction than you, managing an orgasm just from the wet warmth of you tightening around him a few times. He’d gone rigid for a moment as he reached his release but then he’d recovered himself and gone right back to edging you. You’d tried to clench around him more intentionally, hoping to overstimulate him a little, but if he felt much he didn’t let on. Which meant that by the time he pushed you from his lap you could feel a combination of his cum and your slick on your thighs and dripping from your cunt.   The car pulled up as Ben said, “Clean yourself up,” tossing you a few tissues from a pocket inside his suit jacket, “Can’t have you dripping through the foyer.”  That felt more humiliating than anything else he’d done or said, especially because of how horny and wet you were, but Ben didn’t seem to notice as he tucked himself away again and smoothed out his suit.   Once you’d straightened yourself up as much as you could in the confines of the limo, Ben helped you out, once again acting the gentleman as he offered you his arm.

You tried to act as normal as possible as you walked through the foyer of what was obviously a five star hotel, an ambitious goal considering what had happened on the drive there and how fancy the place seemed.  "Do you live here?” you asked, hoping that having a conversation to focus on would help with the image you were attempting to cultivate.   Ben shook his head as you approached the lifts, “No, I have a house. Father bought it for me when I turned 18. He thought it would do me good to live on my own or something. But I never take the women I fuck there.”  You blinked, surprised, “why not?”  “If I was dating them it would be different, and in fact one of my exes did move in there with me for a while. But one night stands don’t get to see where I live. I permanently keep the penthouse suite here for getting my dick wet. That’s how you know you’re one of my whores.” He didn't give you a chance to respond, pulling you into a demanding kiss, his hands roaming over your arse until the elevator dinged at his floor.  

It was a short walk to his door and Ben already had the keycard out by the time you reached it, clearly eager for more. He took just enough time to place a do not disturb hanger on the door handle before he pushed you to your knees right there in the entry way. When you looked up he was working on unbuckling his pants again, his cock already hard as he pulled it out, his quick refractory time a result of the edges, or so you assumed.   “I’m sure you’ve got some little plan to get on top going on in your head right now, Y/N,” he said as he worked on his pants, “But I assure you it won’t be happening tonight, so I think a little test is in order. You need to prove you can submit before you go any further.”  You nodded meekly, already horny and resigned to your fate.   “Well go on, suck.”  You shuffled forward, feeling Ben’s large fingers twisting softly in your hair to guide you. Bracing yourself for his fist to tighten or for him to force you down his shaft, you pressed your lips to his tip. But he defied your expectations, his hands leaving you altogether once he had you in place. It was strange but you didn’t complain, focusing instead on his cock.  Ben sighed in pleasure as you brought a spit wet palm up to stroke his shaft, your mouth busy becoming acquainted with his tip, but otherwise he made little acknowledgement of your actions. Instead he preoccupied himself getting undressed.   You felt more than saw him shimmy out of his jacket, flinging it unceremoniously to the floor behind him. Next came the sound of his wristwatch being placed, much more carefully, on the hall stand beside you. A moment later his cufflinks joined it. When he took off his dress shirt you had to pause your bobbing, letting him fall from your lips as you pulled back to watch. He did have a very nice chest, you remembered that from last time, and you were sure he’d take your looking as a complement.   Ben flashed you a pleased look as he noticed you, allowing you to watch as he slipped the shirt from his arms and dropped it to the floor, but once it was off he considered the show over. His fist was once again in your hair, this time much more forcefully tugging you back towards his cock.   “I didn’t tell you to stop.” he drawled as you got your lips around his tip and felt his palm pushing you further down his length.   You managed okay to start but without being able to control your pace as much you couldn’t keep from gagging as you took Ben deeper.   Ben hummed, clearly satisfied with the sound, his hand loosening a little as a reward.   You took the hint and found a rhythm that pleased him, working yourself up and down his shaft, your hand stroking whatever wasn’t in your mouth. You gagged a few more times as you pushed yourself further, but Ben definitely enjoyed it when you did.  All of a sudden he stopped you, both hands in your hair to keep you from moving.   “I think you’re ready now, hands off.”  You had no idea what he thought you were ready for but you did as he said, partly because you wanted to prove him wrong about your ability to follow orders, but mostly because you were very turned on and wanted to hurry up and get to the bit where he’d fuck you for real. The thought was distracting enough that you were caught off guard as he pressed his hips forward, pushing more of his cock than you were ready for towards your throat. You gagged again and Ben groaned. 

“Good girl, just take it.” He said grunted as he thrust into your mouth again, and then again, not worrying about going slow.  Your hair was tangled tight in his fingers, keeping you from moving too far from where he wanted you. Instinct made you try to lean back a little but aside from Ben’s grip, you were too close to the door to get very far. You heard Ben’s knuckles bump against it, the solid wood an intimidating barrier behind you that made it clear you had little choice but to do as Ben wanted. You assumed that if you’d tapped out, Ben would have let you, but you didn’t want to. Ben had been right when he’d said it was hot to be used. You were already very wet but your pussy ached as he fucked your mouth, denying you what you really wanted so he could take what would satisfy him. Each shift of his hips made indecent wet sounds as saliva built up and dripped onto your chin and he pulled more gags from your throat. Tears pooled in your eyes but Ben didn’t seem to care. He kept up fucking you for longer than you might have expected if you’d been able to think clearly enough to guess. Especially with how turned on he must have been, just based on the groans and moans he made as he used you. But finally Ben seemed to reach a limit of just how much pleasure he could withstand. His hips sped up, and he grunted each word on a new thrust as he said, “Gonna fucking cum. You better fucking swallow.”  You blinked more tears from your eyes which Ben took as compliance with his wants as he got himself off, rutting against your tongue until he stopped, keeping you pinned between his hips and the door as he filled your mouth with cum. Ben pulled out quickly which you were thankful for. You’d been able to steal breaths throughout the blowjob but had unwittingly held your breath as he finished, and were eager to be free. He took half a step back, hands rising to his hips as he stared you down, daring you to recoil at the taste of his cum or worse still to spit it out. Between heavy breaths through your nose your swallowed, fighting the urge to wipe your eyes or face.  “Good girl,” Ben cooed as if he’d expected a brattier display, “I knew that fem dom shit was just a cry for attention. This was what you really wanted all along.”  You shook your head so that you could at least say you tried to disagree, but Ben was more concerned with tucking his cock away again and missed the display of defiance altogether. Once he was sorted he helped you up, taking a moment to examine your face before dragging his thumbs under your eyes to clear up the mascara that had transferred there.  “Pointless,” he muttered softly when he realised he was mostly just spreading the mascara around, “I’m sure it wont be the last you cry tonight. Unless of course you want to admit you’re nothing more than a desperate whore and beg for my cock.”  “I’m not begging,” you frowned, sure he’d be quicker to give in once he got close to your pussy.   Ben just smiled, “You will. For now I want you on the bed.”  You made to move down the hall but he stopped you before you made it more than a step.   “Wait. There’s a rule I have. Whores aren’t allowed to wear clothes past this point. I might make an exception for nice lingerie but not tonight. Not for you.” He didn’t even give you the satisfaction of stripping for him, pulling the zip of your dress down and tugging on your dress until it slipped down to join the mess of discarded menswear on the floor, quickly followed by your bra. “Mmmm,” he hummed as his eyes raked over your naked body, “Perfect. Bed, now.” A spank landed on your arse cheek and you hurried ahead of him, able to feel Ben’s eyes on your arse for the whole length of the corridor.  

The upside of being on the bed before Ben had even entered the room was that you had ample time to admire how good he looked without a shirt. You openly ogled him as he moved to the cupboard, taking a moment to dig something out, though his delicious back was blocking your view of what it was. Although your preoccupation with his naked chest also meant you weren’t as observant as you might otherwise have been. You were too distracted to notice him tuck something into his pocket, and you entirely missed it when he began speaking, only realising when he seemed to address you.  “-only fair I get to do the same to you, right?”  You blinked, knowing you’d missed something but not wanting to let on because you knew he’d be a dick about it.   As it was he raised his eyebrows and prompted you to respond, “Well? It’s a simple question. You’re not normally this ditzy, did sucking me off make you too horny to think?”  You shook your head, “No Sir, I thought it was rhetorical.”   For a moment you weren’t sure your gambit had worked but then Ben laughed, “Almost a shame you’re not so cockdumb yet. But maybe you’re right,” Ben strode around to the top right corner of the bed, squatting slightly to pull something from under the mattress, “My expectation was that you’d agree.” He grabbed your wrist and tugged it back, fitting a black loop around it.   As he tightened the restraint you realised what he’d been talking about. That this was pay back for when you’d tied him to the yacht’s bed. He’d been eager for it then, practically walked you through tying sailor worthy knots with the rope, but you couldn’t blame him for wanting to see you bound to his bed in the same way. So you just wriggled yourself into a little more comfort as he rounded the bed and restrained your other wrist too.   “Now what are you going to do to me?” you pouted at him coyly, feeling a little like you were poking a bear.   “I already told you.” he said, kneeling on the end of the bed, “I’m going to make you beg.”  That was when he revealed what he’d taken from his cupboard and tucked into his pocket. The vibrator wasn’t huge but it was powerful, making you jolt as he pressed it to your clit.  You squirmed but the wrist cuffs kept you from being able to move too far from its buzzing and you couldn’t help but moan as your long denied orgasm built.   Ben quickly stopped the toy, replacing it with his fingers, dragging them through the wetness between your lips, “Go on whore, tell me you want my cock in this needy cunt.”  You shook your head, biting your lip to keep from moaning again as his fingers entered you easily. He thrust them in and out of you a few times before bringing the vibrator back to your clit. Whenever Ben sensed you were getting close he’d stop touching you entirely. Sometimes even before you were close, preferring to hedge his bets and stop early rather than risk giving you the orgasm. It would undercut his dominance if you came earlier than he wanted, even if he ruined it. So he was careful with how he edged you. He alternated between his fingers and the vibe. When he felt you were enjoying yourself too much he’d intentionally ignore your clit. You’d be left with three of his fingers pumping into you, hearing Ben make pleased little hums when he found spots within you that made you whine or gasp. When that didn’t seem to be enough to make you give in he upped the ante, pressing the tip of the vibrator into you. It didn’t stretch you as much as his fingers (or his cock) did, but the patterns of vibrations when he turned it on made up for what it lacked in size.

While you’d already decided you’d let Ben have it his way, part of you still wanted him to have to work for it. Unfortunately, any ideas you had about withstanding his onslaught went out the door very quickly. You were way too worked up to hold out and the combination of his fingers and the toy he was fucking into your cunt had you begging in only a few short moments. At your first, “please Sir,” Ben laughed. “Embarrassing how easy that was,” he smirked, “I expected more but I guess you really are just one of my whores.” You whined as he removed the vibrator and his fingers, worried the edging would continue all night. “S’pose it’s about time I fuck you properly. Lord knows im stiff for it.” You watched as he undid his zip and finally removed his pants, his cock semi hard again, and you couldn’t keep yourself from begging again. “Only one question left. How should I do it? Flip you over and take you from behind?” He wrapped his fist around his cock and you whimpered as he stroked himself harder, “Make you ride me? I know how much you like being on top. Think I like the idea of seeing you under me too much for that. This time anyway. No, I know what I want.” His breath came a little harder as he moved onto the bed, cock still in hand as he pushed your legs open again. “I want you to watch me while I fuck you. I want you right where you are, tied up, incapable of dominating me. You’ll soon see how much you like it.” As he spoke he pressed against your hole, teasing you one final time before he finally gave you what you wanted. His cock slipped in easily, and Ben’s groan was nearly as loud as yours. At another time, with free hands and a clearer mind, you might have enjoyed that more, knowing Ben was as desperate as you were. But after so much edging and teasing, you could only focus on how good and full you felt. Ben’s eagerness extended beyond just sounds of delight too. Any plans he might have had to draw it out, go slow and deep to torment you more, went out the window as soon as he felt you clench around his shaft. His hips jolted forward, cock sinking into your audibly wet cunt, and he couldn’t help but do it again and again, falling into a rapid rhythm. Barely half his length made it in you, his thrusts too rapid to allow him to get much deeper, but it didn’t matter. The feeling of him dragging against your walls would have been enough, but Ben also added a thumb to your clit. He rubbed you messily, more concerned with how it felt to be inside you, but you didn’t need much stimulation to get close again. “Cum,” he said simply when you moaned about how good he felt. He fucked you through the first orgasm, praising you for being such a good whore, not even relenting when you were panting, no longer arching under him. “You’re going to cum again, sweetheart” he ordered, pounding into you with a particularly hard thrust that made your head spin. A slight breathlessness was the only sign he was at all worked up, which just added to his control, and all you could do was nod in agreement, sure you would cum as many times as he wanted no matter how hard it became. Ben chuckled, clearly pleased with how fucked out and compliant you were, but focused his energy into fucking you rather than any banter. You squirmed a little more, a touch sensitive after your first orgasm, but not uncomfortably so, and your second came up quickly too, your body eager for release after being denied it for so long. Ben didn’t last much longer either, the feeling of your cunt tightening round his cock again enough to undo him. He groaned more and more as he got closer, finally pressing himself as deep as you could take him as he hit his release with a satisfied moan.

Ben collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you comfortingly into the mattress as his lips found your neck. He was breathing harder now, the puffs of warmth tickling your skin.   You groaned as you tried to shift under him, your thighs aching from being spread open, but you found you couldn’t close them since Ben was still filling you.   “Uh uh uh,” he tutted into your skin, “Didn’t say you could shut your legs.” He pushed himself back up, leaning back to look at himself disappearing into you, “You look good like this.”  You shivered as he ran a finger around where you were stretched around his length, your wrists jolting in the bonds.   Ben remained thoughtfully silent for a moment, absentmindedly touching your pussy and your thighs, as he took in your dishevelled and restrained appearance.   “I think I want to see you cum again.”   “Again?” you whimpered, partly from his touch and partly from his tone.  He answered by reaching for the vibrator again, pressing it to your clit and holding it there until he’d forced a third orgasm from you, just because he could.  It was good but a lot, your body more sensitive now, and unable to move as freely as you’d have liked. There was no escaping the stimulation, no shifting your hips to change the angle of the vibrations or to spread them over more of your cunt than just your clit. You had to take it the way Ben wanted you to, the vibrators setting higher than you would have chosen, pressed firmly in place until your toes curled and your thighs shook.   Ben pulled out as you neared the climax, so that when you came he could watch his own release dribble onto the sheets, grinning cockily at the sight.  When he was finally satisfied, he turned the toy off and let you collapse, chuckling as he leaned over to free you from the restraints. Gently he rubbed your wrists, making sure you were okay as you gathered your senses.   “What was it you said about me not caring if my whores get off?” he asked, flopping on top of you again.  You wanted to come back with something clever but your brain was still too hazy to manage anything more than, “Oh shut up.”  “You beg real fucking pretty by the way. It’s obvious I’m the best you’ve had.”   You rolled your eyes at his smirking, the insufferable way he was speaking reigniting your desire to put him in his place, “Keep being such an ass and I’ll have to pick out a toy to use on you.” You squeaked as Ben cut you off, grabbing your cheeks so your lips were pushed into a pout.  “No. Eager and willing sluts don’t threaten their Sir’s. While you’re here, you’re mine,” his hand covered your cunt possessively, “I’m going to want you again tonight and I expect you to keep being the good girl I know you secretly love being.”  You swallowed thickly, nodding in his grasp.  Ben let you go and, as if to soften his words or placate you, added, “But maybe tomorrow I’ll let you tell me some of your silly ideas, see if you can convince me they’re more fun than fucking my new toy brainless.” 

[writermask-0807]

hotaru haganezuka x reader {“sweet as sugar not” or: “of sticky summer days and first steps.”}

A/N: listen, listen, there are so many reasons I shouldn't upload this. First of all, ik there r other requests i should do and I am working on them. Hopefully I'll get them all done soon.

Second of all, the title sucks ass, ik, but I honestly can't think of anything else and my brain literally only has one brain cell rn 🥲 thirdly, this oneshot u see right here is pure selfishness and self-indulgence rolled up into one thing and it's probably messy cus I haven't proofread cus it's the middle of the night and im running on nothing but whateverrr. (I think I had too much apple juice.) Also I couldn't find a decent gif of this bish so rip-

Warnings: implied teacher/student relationship cus I literally put mentions of "master" around just so u know it's nothing kinky 👀

HE’S not a soft man, your master; all red-hot temper and harsh words and growling voice, and often you’re the one to smooth his rough edges down and dull the sharp ends, guide his work-worn hands back to shaping his precious metals into swords and take his attention away from the heat you know is boiling in his chest, ready to spill over and scald in white-hot fury.

It’s just how he is, really, because Hotaru’s not a man to whisper sweet-nothings in your ear and kiss you softly, sweetly- he’s a man of his passions, and although his hands are rough and calloused by years’ worth of dedicated work and sometimes his harsh words stings and so does his indifference- he has his moments, where he makes it up to you in his own way.

As it happens, today’s one of those rare moments.

It’s one of those hot, sticky sort of days under the summer sun where the blue, cloudless sky is brilliant with sunshine and the air is warm and sweet; ripe with something that’s not quite the August-heat, and there’s a drowsy silence settled over the both of you, the droning of the insects long chased away by the whisper of the tall grass and the flutter of the spring-time blooms drifting down like rose-pink snowflakes, creamy petals catching in his long hair and yours, the sweet smell of the petals perfuming the warm atmosphere.

You’ve got a strawberry mochi bulging in your cheek as you peer up at the canopy of blushing petals, back resting languidly on the emerald, mossy bed of grass and awe starring your enraptured gaze as you watch the soft beauty of the sakura blossoms cascade all around you in sheets of delicate fuchsia, completely oblivious to the golden, hawk-like eyes that watches your movements with an intensity force enough to make you want to squirm, if only you’d noticed, that is.

It’s not until you feel his mouth slot over yours and your eyes fly open in surprise that you remember that your Master’s here with you, and he tastes syrupy and sticky-sweet like the mochi he’s been snacking on, his fingers fisting the fabric of your kimono, those rough fingers uncharacteristically soft against your skin.

It’s nothing more than a brush of lips, a simple peck, really, but the kiss leaves you breathless, wanting for more as soon as he pulls away, something unusually thoughtful creasing his eyebrow- like he’s contemplating a serious thought, but he never voices it aloud. He’s unusually reserved and quiet in moments like these; but you’ve learned that his silence speaks far more than his angry words do, if only you learned to read between the lines.

He dips down again and offers another peck, sticky-sweet and unusually soft and wanting, and this time, you smile against his mouth and kiss him back, cheeks flustering scarlet as he hovers above you, hands on either side of your body and your chest heaves, the heat of the summer sun clinging to your skin and his fingers as they brush over the cut of your cheekbones, the slope of your nose, the curve of your mouth and the dips of your collarbones.

And before you can fully register it, his fingers curl around a delicate pink bloom and tucks it behind your ear, its petals cotton-soft against your skin, and you blink, pleasantly bewildered, your face flushing the same pretty shade as the flower.

“What was that for?” you ask, smiling, and he shrugs above you, ebony locks rippling over his broad shoulders with the movement. Your fingers itch to run themselves through those soft, raven-black tufts, but you refrain the urge- you get the feeling it’d only fluster him to the point of retreating and your arms are trapped underneath all his bulk anyway.

“Just because.” is his simple non-answer, short and clipped and it comes out more like a grunt than anything, but as he rolls over to the patch of grass beside you, his calloused fingers slowly, hesitantly, lacing between yours- somewhat rough and scarred to the touch but you don’t mind, never do- and his amber hues averting from your own eyes, you grin, because you notice the faint pinkening of his cheeks- splotches of color you’ll tease him about later and he’ll insist that it was just the heat getting to him, that’s all!

But not in this moment, no. Right now you’re content to stay like this, the both of you, watching the summer-time blossoms twirl in the teasing breeze, the flowery canopy stifling the baking heat of the summer sun.

And he’s not a soft man, your Master, struggles with sweet words and soft kisses because his hands are scarred terrains not meant to be gentle or holding yours, and sometimes his words stings and so does his indifference but for your sake, he tries and you smile because that’s all you ask of him. All anyone can ask of him, really.

(He’s not a soft man, your Master, not really, not even in moments like these; but this- this is a first step, and the fragrance of the petals linger in the air, sticky-sweet and promising of sweeter moments to come.)

FIN-

[autisticlancemcclain]

She doesn’t hear him come in. She doesn’t hear a knock at the door, or his footsteps on her ornate Fluxian rugs, although that’s not too unusual. Lance is silent when he walks. But she doesn’t hear him until she hears the rustle of her bed canopy, feels her giant duvet being pulled over her head.

She supposes she should be startled by her friend’s sudden appearance in her room. Perhaps angry — she has insisted that he knock more times than she can count, and he never listens.

Instead she bursts into tears.

“Oh, Allura,” he murmurs, crawling on top of the bed immediately and placing an arm around her. He squeezes tightly, rocking her back and forth as he moves. “It wasn’t your fault.”

She doesn’t bother answering. She only sobs harder, muscles tense, refusing to take any comfort in his hold. She does not deserve comfort. Not when her failure came at a cost so deep.

“Millions dead,” she whispers, hiccuping around the word. “Millions.”

Lance stays silent. He offers no further platitudes, doesn’t bother to argue or try and change her mind. He’s already said his piece. Instead he simply squeezes once, then pulls away slightly. For a moment Allura is disappointed, then angry with herself for feeling that disappointment at all, but before she can follow that train of thought there’s a gentle pull of her hair and she realizes he’s gotten a brush.

He says nothing as he combs through her hair. He doesn’t ask her to move, doesn’t try to stop her tears. He simply lets her cry, knees tucked under her chin, and silently runs a brush through her hair. Whenever he reaches a tangle — and there are many, she’s been sitting blankly with her bedcovers over her head for stars know how long — he simply sets the brush down and begins to work it through carefully with his fingers. He never tugs on the hair, and it never hurts. It’s only soft, soothing strokes until her cries fade into sniffles.

“It’s not your fault,” he repeats when the tears have started to dry on her cheeks. His voice is firm, unarguable.

“We were minutes too late. The wormhole — I’ve moved us faster. I didn’t use enough urgency.”

His cool fingers brush the side of her neck as he gathers her newly brushed hair and she shivers. He sections off a piece of it, pinning the rest out of the way. She hears him weave some of the long, kinky strands together in a braid.

“How do you know that they weren’t waiting for us?” he asks quietly. “All information we had pointed to a small fleet; dangerous but not deadly. There was no reason for us to suspect that a Zaiforge canon was in the mix, because none of their communications said there would be.” He unpins another section of hair and gets to work. “The plan was to ambush us, ‘Llura. They used the planet as collateral.”

Deep down, she knows this to be true. She watched Zarkon and his forces do this countless times before she lost her own people to his tyranny.

But the guilt still lingers.

Seconds.

She was seconds too late to stop him, and for her error an entire planet was eradicated.

“Do you think they saw it coming?” she asks in a small voice.

Do you think they died afraid? is what she really means.

Lance says nothing for a long moment. His hands still, and his breathing quickens slightly.

Her heart sinks. He knows the answer just as she does, and he will not lie to her.

“There’s this song, on Earth,” he says, returning to her braids. “Our planet is broken into hundreds of nations, and they’re always in conflict with each other. Some moreso than others. One of the conflicts involves deadly nuclear weapons. If one country decides to fire, the rest will as well. Our entire planet is at constant risk of annihilation because our governors care more about their stupid pride than life.” His voice shakes by the end of his sentence, fury lining his voice. She is completely still, hanging onto every word, confused at the subject change but intrigued despite her horror. “Most of us who are aware of the issue live with a constant terror, even if it’s only in the back of our minds, that at any moment our planet could blow the hell up and there’s not a single thing we can do to survive it.”

She glances over her shoulder, no longer able to listen quietly. He avoids her gaze, brown eyes trained intently on his task. “That’s horrifying. All of you just…live like that?”

He shrugs. “Very little we can do to stop it.”

She starts to see the connection he’s making, the line between her heavy guilt and his planet’s fear.

She swallows. “…You can live with the fear?”

“There’s a song,” he repeats. He hums a slow, sad beginning. “‘We creep up on extinction, I pull your arms right in; I weep and say ‘goodnight, love’, as my organs pack it in…’”

He sings the song for her softly, following the final moments of a young couple, quietly dressing each other for their own funerals, dancing as their planet burns to the ground.

“There’s a peace to acceptance,” he says as his hums come to an end. He ties up her last braid and tugs her around to face him. He meets her eyes, finally, and reaches over to grab her hands, squeezing gently. “They were with their people and loved ones, as they died. They were afraid but they will be avenged. It’s not your fault, Allura.”

A tear drops down her cheek, dropping onto their joined hands. She watches it splatter, and finally lets herself believe that her friend is right, that he wouldn’t lie to her, that maybe — just maybe — she’s not at fault for this tragedy.

And maybe Altea wasn’t her fault, either.

“Okay,” she whispers.

He smiles, squeezing her hands one more time before pulling her out of bed and towards the door. “Good. Now, come on. Hunk made some food, we’re all waiting for you.”