#ok this is it this is really the last one and then i'm going to focus on school

[blood-starved-beast]

Rare Reddit W actually

I saw some people on TikTok and on the main sub talking about how it is "crazy for Cait and Vi to hook up in the jail cell" and how "Vi should be going after her sister" so I wanna make sure we all understand the convo beforehand and why it makes sense that it would lead to sex lmao

We find Vi in this scene metaphorically (and literally, in a jail cell) where she was in act 2 of season 1: alone, feeling like she has lost all her family, and still feeling like she failed her sister, which is where Caitlyn and her first met. Given the wishy-washy terms that were left on during their last scene together, Vi is prepared for Caitlyn to tell her "I told you so", which Vi verbally expresses to Cait. But, Caitlyn does not tell her that, she tells her that she is the one who made it so Vi could free Jinx by moving the guards since she knows Vi well enough that obviously Vi was gonna go to her sister.

Vi reacts to this so passionately for two reasons: One, she is no longer alone. Caitlyn is saying "I'm still on your side" and more importantly "I've moved on, my love for you is stronger than my hate for your sister", which prompts such an enthusiastic response from Vi. Two, Vi is lifted of one of the biggest burdens she has dealt with during the series, which is the unique love triangle between Vi, Jinx, and Caitlyn. Vi no longer feels like she has to choose between them. Jinx verbally tells Vi "you should be with her" and Caitlyn admits to facilitating Jinx's release.

So naturally, Vi stops holding herself back, it's why she doesn't give a fuck when Caitlyn admits to sleeping with Maddie. Vi indulges herself and her desires for the first time in the series, no longer burdened by this internal conflict. Like, no wonder Vi was "feeling fantastic"...

Also, on the topic of "Vi should be going after her sister", the show establishes Vi as someone who does not go after people who leave her. Vi is someone who lives for others, and so she respects their decisions even if they hurt her. She is not someone who goes where she feels she is not wanted. Vi didn't go back to Caitlyn after episode 3 of season 2, she's not gonna go after Jinx either, it's who Vi is.

Text form. Written by Level-Ad7232 on reddit

Ok now I'm a bit more ok with Vi's arc in s2 but still. Would've been nice for more for Vi I think. She really out here with the most subtle arc.

[vaya-is-dead]

Welcome to hour one of my delusional city

SO ABOUT JINX.... we have plenty to discuss. :))

*act three arcane spoilers under the cut don't read if you haven't watched it especially the last episode!!*

I have a theory.

Now many of you will point at me and call me delusional but I'm sorry. I think I might be right on this one for a change. (or at least it might be implied.)

OK, if you watch the final episode, you know that jinx made the sacrifice taking Warwick with her while Vi screams for her. This scene absolutely broke my heart and for about a good 15 minutes I thought she was dead.

Until I went back and watched the last couple of scenes.

Something that I found interesting is that Caitlyn was looking at the blueprint of the vent system, more specifically where Jinx made her ultimate sacrifice. We all know that arcane is not a show that would just throw in details all without reason. Everything has a point everything is calculated to either imply something or show something.

Why would Caitlyn be looking at the blueprint and why would the show creators specifically zoom in on certain airways? Well, of course, then none other to imply that Jinx could've escaped through one of these, therefore possibly surviving.

Now with that alone, it probably doesn't mean anything. It is nothing but a skeleton of what possibly could be, it needs flesh and muscle for it to actually be a Working theory.

But then, as I watched the final scene before the credits, tell me why an airship from Piltover airship very similar to the ones that we saw in episode one where powder said that she would be flying one of those one day. Why was it flying away into the distant sky, then followed by the classic Jinx glitches with the words the end?

Tell me why a show that is so focused on each, and every small detail, from micro expression to touches that linger just a second too long for it to be nothing, Even the drawings and graffiti around Zaun. why would a show so focused on those types of details do something like that if Jinx was not alive? It does not make any sense. It would not make any sense for the show.

Need more proof?

if you pay attention when Caitlyn and Vi are talking, specifically towards the end where Vi leans into Caitlyn, the expression on her face is not one of relief, but rather one of knowing something. She was the one looking at the blueprint, and she was the one who noticed the potential escape route that jinx would know better than anyone because it wasn't her sort of Home in the vent system? How could she not know how to escape?

it's also very satisfactory to her character arc, it was only in season two where we started to see her perception of death start to shift, it was only when Isha came into her life that she really started to understand her own mortality and not completely disregard her life like she used. the prison scene with Vi, where she's sort of regresses back to the mentality of everyone around me will get hurt because of me. while in act three she did begin to disregard her life again, I would like to think that her talk with Ekko might've snapped her back into place. So instead of losing jinx's character development in its entirety, she continues on the same path where she was while still keeping her goal of letting VI be happy the same.

Plus the pink streak coming up the side of the hex gate tower, it's similar to the way that Jinx charges at Vi in their fighting scene.

Now, this is the part where you go into the comments and call me delusional and make fun of my theory but thank you for comming to my Ted's talk

[agarafile]

Gem: I'm gonna make you run, Pearl.

Pearl, laughing: Gem!

Gem: What?

Pearl: Why are you so fast as a camel? Camels aren't that fast.

Gem, sounding more annoyed now: What?

Pearl: Come here! Come here, come on. No, I need to get on the camel first.

Gem: No. No.

Pearl: Let me on the camel! [Pearl get on the camel] Yes! I'm on the camel! Gem, you can't get away from me now.

Gem: I don't want you on my camel.

Pearl: I'm on your camel. Deal with it. Right. Hoe much do you hate me today, Gem?

Gem: A lot!

Pearl: Dangit, I was hoping to trick you, and you'd say like– You know, in a scale of 1 to 10—

Gem: Do you know why, though?

Pearl: What? Why?

Gem: I have reasons today.

Pearl: Why today of all days? Why?

Gem: I have reasons. I've reflected.

Pearl: You've reflected? Ok.

Gem: Yeah. Do you remember last session when you couldn't remember– You thought you put your eye into the portal?

Pearl, idgnated: Oh!

Gem: Do you remember that?

Pearl: We weren't even there for you putting your eye–

Gem: Did you even look me in the face during our murder camel... happenings?

Pearl: ...Yeah! It was such a good time. It was so much fun.

Gem: And you remember what my face looked like?

Pearl: Yeah. Oh. I forgot about your skin.

[Impulse starts following them]

Impulse, sounding so done: Are you guys bonding? Are you reliving the memories?

Pearl: We're not bonding at all, Impulse! This is so sad.

Gem: Ok. And then! And then, other than that, you 2v1'd me! I'm still holding a grudge about that–

Pearl: I did not 2v1'd you!

Gem: And you– you surely know about holding grudges across seasons. You know about that.

Pearl: I didn't 2v1'd you, Gem. Let's put this straight. I let Scar do it. I watched.

Gem: No, no, no. I remember specifically–

Pearl: I hit you once!

Gem: – you hitting me once.

Pearl: Uh huh.

Gem: That's enough. That set your dogs on me–

Pearl: It was one little– It was one little basic whack.

Gem: It was not a regen based season! Once was enough!

Pearl: And I set the dogs down, Gem. You had so many hearts. You were gonna live. You were fine. You see? Look at that.

Gem: I'm just saying, I'll forgive you if you actually 1v1v1v-whathever me. And not 2v1.

Pearl: At that point... That sounds like we're trying to kill each other at that point. That seems kinda against the point, you know? Right?

Gem: Yeah. We have to die, Pearl. That's the game.

Pearl: That's the...! It's not! That's– That means I can arguably– There's only resolution after the season ends, is what you're saying. Right?

Gem: We can die six times. We have time to die.

Pearl: I can't die six times!

Gem: You can die once!

Pearl: ... I'll 1v1 you right now, Gem. Go on.

Gem: Hm... right now?

Pearl: Right now.

Gem: .... Alright.

Pearl: Not really. That's kinda– [laughs] You went too– You went too all into that. You're like "Yeah, let's do it! Yeah, let's get it!". That's terrifying.

[impactrueno]

just wanted to say thank you guys for the enthusiastic feedback on what i'm making, i mean it. the only two people who commented on my last one on bsky just wanted to know the name of the song 🫠

i was hoping to build a little suspense and make people react before i posted the other half of the segment but after getting those comments i'm like. oh ok. well. *deflating balloon noise*

i guess bsky isn't the best place for dramatic flair. bad news for me and the way i like to present my content lol

tumblr though? not to blow my horn but i mastered this technique on here many years ago 😤 and it's how i discovered how much i really enjoy telling a story that makes you feel emotions. i love seeing people react to it as it unfolds live in front of them. it's the best feeling ever. i'm not kidding when i say this is performance. it's THE reason why this storytelling method is my favorite.

it's also part of why i go radio silent while i'm doing certain scenes, i feel like me commenting anything about it would distract from the feeling i'm trying to evoke. i want people to be as immersed as i am.

but yeah thanks again for indulging me! it makes all the effort i've been putting into the little details so worth it

[pottersfia]

I love your work and I’m wondering if you can make a Harry Potter x reader! Where the reader is a Slytherin and she’s all cocky and shit and she’s enemies with Harry. They get in a argument and out of frustration Harry kisses her and then they Have rough sex?

harry x fem!reader

smut

a/n: sorry this took so long! it was a fun write :)

out of all the people you could've been partnered up with for your DADA assignment, it had to be harry. you despised the so called "chosen one" but you wanted a good grade so you had to get through it.

you and harry agreed to meet in the library, but this particular evening you both happened to be busy after your classes and the library closed before you could get there. you decided to meet in your dorm instead. your roommate was gone for the night and you had a desk in there so it would have to do.

"wish me luck, pansy. hopefully i don't end up punching this guy." you said. pansy snickered.

"have fun." she said as you walked towards harry who arrived in the common room.

"hello potter." you said.

"y/l/n." he replied.

"ok let's get this over with." you lead him to your dorm.

as you began to pull out your notes and textbooks harry spoke up,

"just so you know, i already started. i thought i'd do most of it for us." he said. you scoffed. who did he think he was?

"no." you crossed your arms.

"no?" he raised his eyebrows.

"i already have ideas for this assignment so i'll do it. i don't need you doing anything for me."

"that's not really how this is supposed to work." he pushed his glasses up which sent your stomach churning. with annoyance of course.

"well you're trying to do all the work too."

"i said most!"

you furrowed your eyebrows and stared at him. harry always managed to get on your last nerve. this grade was important, yes, but you were in no mood to put up with his attitude.

"can you stop being insufferable for once so we can get this done." you said.

"i don't see how i'm insufferable when you won't listen." he said. the two of you glared at eachother.

"you can leave you know. we don't have to do this today." you stood up and walked towards the door.

"you know that i'm busy all week. unlike you i have other important things to do." he walked towards you.

"then stop acting like you're better than me!" you practically yelled in his face and moved your hands up to try and push him away from you but he grabbed them before you could touch him. "let go." you said but his grip was strong.

"no." he replied, holding your arms against the closed door. you two stared each other down until you noticed him look down at your lips. you raised your eyebrow in a questioning way about to say something until he leaned in and kissed you. you froze for a second confused by his actions but then you kissed back just as he broke away. he let go of you.

"woah, i'm sorry y/n, i uh-"

"shut up." you kissed him again and this time it was longer. your lips synced together perfectly and harry let his hands roam along the sides of your torso. you pushed him to walk back towards your bed and climbed on top as he laid down. you parted your lips to pull your shirt off and he stared hungrily at your body.

"like what you see, potter?" you smirked at him.

"come here." he pulled you against himself and flipped you over so he was on top. he then took off his own shirt and moved down to pull your bottoms off. he rubbed your thighs and slowly moved his hands closer and closer to where you needed him most.

"stop teasing." you whined out. he laughed at you making you whine again.

"you know what? i've always wanted to shut you up. i think i'll use that loud mouth of yours instead." he pulled his underwear off revealing his hard erection and moved up to straddle your chest.

"stick your tongue out." he said. you looked up at him and furrowed your eyebrows.

"you're not making me suck you off like this." he grabbed your face roughly and replied, "i said stick your tongue out. i'll use you how i want." you rolled your eyes and did so, ignoring the wetness pooling in your own underwear.

he slapped his tip on your tongue before pushing himself inside your mouth. he moaned as your lips wrapped around him and he buck his hips in and out of your wet mouth.

"fuck. you feel so good like this." he groaned. you gripped onto his thigh with one hand and began rubbing yourself under your underwear with the other. harry only noticed when he felt the vibrations of you moaning around him and saw your arm moving.

“i knew you were a dirty slut. rubbing yourself while is use your throat.” his word made you moan even more as you squeezed your thighs together to feel more pressure. “you’re way prettier like this, you know.” he let out small whines and groans from the sensation of your lips and wet tongue on his cock.

you loved having him use you and his noises only brought you closer and closer to the edge. you shut your eyes as you took in the feeling but suddenly your mouth was empty. you looked up and watched as harry climbed off of you, grabbed your hips, and turned you over.

“stick that ass out.” he said. you arched your back and showed off the wet spot on your underwear, slightly spreading your legs.

“you better fuck me good, potter.” you said, rubbing yourself over your underwear. harry felt like he was dreaming. the sight in front of him made him throbbing as he pumped himself, still wet from your mouth.

“fuck.” he pulled your underwear to the side to see your dripping pussy and replaced your rubbing hand with his. “i will, trust me.” and with that he pushed himself inside you making you gasp from being stretched. he instantly started pounding into you, chased how good it felt to finally have you.

“so tight.” he groaned. his hands were gripping you and you were moaning louder than you ever have before. you reached back to rub yourself again making harry smirk.

“slap me please, harry.” you moaned out. he slapped your ass making you groan from the sting.

“making so many pretty noises for me.” he slapped again. “i want you to cum on my cock, y/n. i know you can do it.” his words only got you more wet and you grew tighter around him as you reached your orgasm.

“harry, i’m so close.” you said. he fucked into you harder, feeling himself get closer too.

“i’m gonna cum too, fuck.” he relished in the moment, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer with every stroke. finally, you felt your release as your legs shook, letting out loud whines.

harry came soon after, pulling out and pumping his cum on your ass and back.

“that is crazy hot.” he said staring at the image in front of him. you relaxed your legs to lay on your stomach trying to catch your breath.

harry quickly grabbed a towel to clean you off. he sat next to you and wiped your body.

“that wasn’t too bad, potter.” you said turning towards him with a smile.

“glad i could make you feel good.” he smiled back. you sat up as soon as you were clean.

“i could do a better job fucking you if i were on top, though.” you said. harry’s eyebrows raised and suddenly he felt his cock twitch at the thought.

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 28

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, NSFW, MDNI, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: fluff, smut, oral sex (female receiving), vaguely femdom vibes, Jason has a mommy kink, female orgasm

wc: 3.5k

Chapter Selection

My last day at the diner came and went. I hadn't expected much, but leaving like it was any other day felt so anticlimactic. The manager barely nodded to me on my way out. I dropped my uniform off in the office, headed out, and hopped on the bus.

Jason: Hey doll, what time will you be home? 4:30pm

Me: 20 minutes or so. Why? 4:33pm

Jason: Got a surprise for you, to celebrate! 4:34pm

Me: Aww, babe! :) You didn't have to! 4:35pm

Jason: Course I did! 😚 4:37pm

Me: 😘 4:38pm

I got off the bus at my stop; Steph grinned when she saw me and hopped off the bus bench to hug me. “There you are! Congrats on your last day!”

I laughed, leading the way to my apartment. “Thanks! You know about this surprise then?”

“Of course I do! I'm here to help you get ready.” She beamed, following me into my building.

“Ok … so what kind of surprise is this? Should I eat before we go, or will there be food there?” We trudged up the stairs to my floor, and I opened the door.

“There will be food. You've got time for a quick shower if you want one, and then it's time to get ready!”

I nodded, tossing my purse on the couch. “Great, and I'm assuming you'll want to pick an outfit for me?”

“Yep! Bedroom's through here?” She walked into my room and threw my closet open.

“Make yourself at home I guess.” I chuckled; “I think I will shower. There's some juice in the fridge if you want a drink. Glasses are above the microwave.”

“Thanks!” She called out, going through my clothes while I tucked into the bathroom to shower. “... You don't own enough red!”

I laughed harder at that; “oh I don't, huh? … I take it Jace likes seeing me in his color?”

“Of course he does! It marks his … territory … oohhhh~” she giggled, popping her arm into the bathroom. In her hand was a red and black lace lingerie set I'd bought recently; “is this for a particular occasion, or can I insist you wear it tonight?”

I coughed, trying to sound casual; “I ... I just liked it I guess?”

“Uh-huh … Jay's gonna lose his mind when he sees it~”

I chuckled softly; “Steph, do you really want to talk about this?”

“Why not?”

“... He's your brother?? Isn't that weird for you?”

“Hun, you know we're not really related, right? Besides, I'm an honorary member of the family at best.” She giggled. 

“... Ok.” I shrugged.

 “Yeah. So, … this set; yes to wearing it tonight?”

I slowly nodded; “yeah, that's fine.”

“Excellent. Now shower.” She waved me off, and I closed the door before hopping in the shower.

When I got out, she had selected a red silky top and a pair of black pants for me to wear, and had changed into a nice purple dress of her own. I got dressed, and we did our hair and makeup before heading down to the parking lot where she pulled me along to a black car.

“Are you going to tell me where we're going yet?”

“Nope!” She giggled, turning the radio up; “just sit back and enjoy the ride!”

I shrugged, texting Jason to let him know we were leaving the apartment. He sent back a thumbs up, and Steph drove through the city. We crossed the train tracks, heading into a nicer part of town, and eventually she parked in a shopping district. She led me down a walking path and into a Chinese restaurant, where the hostess took us back to a private room.

I felt my cheeks turning pink when the hostess opened the door; our friends were all around a table, laughing and talking. Stella’s head shot up as the door opened. She beamed, jumping up to pull me into a hug; “there she is! I was starting to think you'd never show up!”

Dick grinned from his seat; “hey! How's your last day in the service industry feelin’?”

“Woah!” I grinned, hugging Stella back. “Hey Stell! It’s a bit unreal, honestly.”

There were several hugs and chattered congratulations until Damian grabbed ahold of my arm and pulled me into the seat between him and Jason. “Let her breathe, everyone.”

His hand lingered on mine for a moment and I gently squeezed it. “Hey kiddo! Did you have a good day?”

He nodded once, squeezing back before releasing me. Jason gently rubbed my back, smiling softly. “Good surprise?”

I smiled brightly, kissing his cheek; “very good surprise! Thank you, Jay~”

Servers began bringing several large family style plates, and everyone started taking what they wanted. We ate and talked, basking in the joy of being together. Stella became fast friends with Steph and Duke; they were almost in their own world on the other side of the table. Once we were mostly done with dinner, Babs wheeled over to offer me a small box.

“Gift time!” She smiled brightly.

“You guys got me gifts too?” I blushed a bit, grinning.

“You’re going into medical school, of course we got you gifts!” Steph grinned.

“Just a few things, to help with school.” Jason smiled softly. I opened the box, grinning.

“That's the newest WayneTech phone - most secure system with the fastest processor on the market!” Babs smiled brightly. Her meaning was clear to me; Bruce had promised me a secured device for everyone to get in contact with me when they needed medical assistance. Clearly Babs had set something up in this new phone.

“Thanks Babs!” I grinned, hugging her.

She hugged back, whispering; “we'll go over everything later.”

Tim and Dick pushed a box into my hands next; a brand new laptop. They assured me it would be perfect for my school needs, and Tim started rambling about its many top of the line selling points. I chuckled, giving them both a quick hug and thanking them. Stella offered me a gift bag next, beaming. She'd bought me a pair of safety toe nurses shoes; comfortable and professional, but still cute! Stephanie and Duke gave me a gorgeous leather messenger bag. Damian and Cass gave me an electronic notebook that would transfer my handwritten notes to a file on my new laptop. Finally, Jason offered me a jewelry box. I kissed him softly before opening it. Inside was a gold necklace with a garnet pendant.

I gasped softly, looking up at him; “Jay, it's beautiful! Thank you~”

Dick chuckled playfully; “oh, I see. The rest of us are told ‘bring practical gifts' all so you can show off with something pretty.”

Jason smirked a bit. “Tim got you jewelry for the gala. It was about time I get you something beautiful too.” I held my hair out of the way while he helped me put the necklace on, kissing my shoulder when he was done.

Stella cooed at that, making me blush a bit. “Awww, that's so cute~”

“Did you ever get that jewelry back, by the way?” Dick frowned a bit. I nodded, admiring the way the pendant sparkled between my breasts.

“Yep. Like … a month later.”

Jason chuckled, stroking my hair gently; “now you've got a necklace to match.”

Tim hesitantly smiled; “so … you're not still mad about that?”

“Don't push your luck.” Jason instantly shot a sharp look in his direction. I shushed him gently, squeezing his hand. I kissed his knuckles, delighting in the pink flush that spread across his cheeks. After a sigh, he leaned against me, smiling softly.

“You all have been so wonderful to me, thank you!” I smiled brightly at the group. Everyone grinned, each assuring me that it was nothing. Dessert and tea was brought out for us, Jason paid the bill when it came, and I got more hugs and congratulations as we all made our way to the parking lot. I saw Stephanie and Stella exchange phone numbers before going their separate ways. I followed Jay to his car, hugging his arm. Damian helped us carry my gifts, giving me a quick hug before running off to hop in the car with Duke and Cass.

“Tonight was wonderful. … You're amazing, baby, you know that?” I grinned, leaning against Jason happily.

He chuckled softly, opening my door for me; “what was it you said at the gala? … 'the bar is on the floor'?”

I chuckled, sliding into my seat. “You gonna fix that for me?”

He smirked softly, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to my lips. He pulled back ever so slightly, whispering; “that’s a promise~”

Jason got in the car, driving back to my apartment. After a while, his hand slid from the steering wheel to my knee.

“I do have two more gift ideas to discuss with you, now that we're alone.”

I chuckled softly; “oh my. What kind of gifts would require a discussion?”

“Well, these are kinda … bigger. But I think it's a good time for them, if you're interested.”

“Ok, I'm listening?” I gently squeezed his hand on my knee. He squeezed back, smiling a bit.

“Well, first I was thinking ‘how are you going to get to GU? It's on the other side of the city.’ And while I would be happy to take you to school every day, something tells me you're going to insist on taking the bus most of the time.”

I nodded. “The bus works just fine; there's no reason for you to spend that much time driving me around after patrolling all night when we have a perfectly good bus system.”

“Right. But I checked - it's an hour ride each way. And you're the primary contact for Damian's school now. His school isn't near a bus stop. What if you need to pick him up? And how are you gonna get to those PTA meetings?”

I frowned. “I know. It's a bit of a walk, but it's not terrible. I'll make it work.”

“Well, if you're interested, I could teach you how to drive. And when you've got your license I'll get you a bike or a car, whatever you prefer. That way you don't have to ‘make it work', you can just do what you need to do.”

I blinked a bit. “... Woah. … Jay, that's … a lot.”

“I know. That's why I didn't bring it up with the others. It's just something for you to consider. You don't have to decide right now.” He squeezed my hand, bringing it to his lips; “I just want you to have the option.”

I nodded, smiling softly. “Thank you, Jason. I'll think about it. … You said there were two gifts we had to discuss?”

He nodded. “Right. The other is a bit more complicated. … I … don't like when I have to go home alone anymore. I like spending the night at your place, or having you at mine. I like waking up with you in my arms, and making breakfast, and watching TV together in the evenings, and knowing you're safe cause you're right there in the room with me…”

I blinked a bit, grinning. “Are you … asking to move in with me?”

“Well, yes and no … if you want to stay where you are, then yes. But Damian also comes over most weekends, and … frankly, I don't love sharing the bed with him all the time. I wanna cuddle my girl, or … you know, other stuff, and I can't cause the fricken demon child is right there…” he frowned a bit, “so, if you're open to it, maybe we could look at new places? Bigger places.”

I grinned, squeezing his hand tighter. “Y- yeah, that sounds nice! … We'd probably need a minimum of three bedrooms…”

He grinned and nodded. “Three?”

“One for us, one for Damian, and one for the clinic. If I have to dig bullets out of someone's body, or set a broken bone, or who knows what else, I’d probably want them spending the night so I can monitor them.”

He nodded. “Good call, so three or four bedrooms, maybe we should be looking at houses? It'll be a lot easier to hide random visitors popping in and out at odd hours in a house rather than try to justify them climbing through an apartment fire escape.”

I nodded, grinning. “Yeah, definitely. Unless someone looks too close, it'll just look like we're college kids constantly having friends over. Plus, having a garage would be nice.”

Jason nodded, parking at my apartment. He cupped my cheek, grinning. “You're really interested?”

I nodded, kissing him gently. “Of course I am, baby~ I don't like sleeping without you next to me anymore either.”

He beamed, kissing back. “Thank god for that…”

I giggled, rubbing the tips of our noses together. “You were worried?”

“Just … it's a big step, and we hadn't discussed anything like this yet.”

I smiled softly, kissing him again. “I choose you, forever. Of course I want to live with you~ If you want, you can stay at mine until we have a place that's ours, or I can come live with you. It doesn't matter to me, as long as it's us.”

Jason grinned, kissing back before getting out of the car. I gathered my presents from the trunk and he scooped me up, carrying me up the stairs to the apartment. I wrapped my arms around his neck, giggling softly. Inside, he let me down in the bedroom, nuzzling my neck.

I set the boxes on my bedside table and turned back to him, kissing him softly; “... Think you can help me out of this?”

He tilted his head, blinking a bit. Nothing about my outfit required assistance to remove, and he definitely knew it, but he slowly nodded anyway. “Um ... Sure?”

His hands slid down my sides to the hem of my shirt, sliding under it to pull the shirt over my head. “Why am I …. Ohhhhh…”

He grinned, cheeks turning bright pink as he stared at my red lace bra. His eyes flickered between mine and my chest, dropping the shirt in an unceremonious heap on the floor. His hands shook as he pulled my hips against his. “... Fuck, ma~ … God, you’re stunning … Red is such a great color on you.”

I grinned, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “Glad you approve~ but you're not done, pretty boy~”

“... Huh?” He didn’t seem to be fully aware of anything anymore. He was just staring at my chest, a little grin on his face.

 I giggled softly. Pressing two fingertips to the underside of his chin, I slowly tilted his face up to meet my eyes; “the pants too, please?~”

In an instant they were pooling around my feet, and Jason was on his knees in front of me. He groaned softly, eyes wide as he stared up at me in awe. “... Th- they match…”

I giggled, running my fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment as he tilted his head against my hand.

“Thank you, sweetie~” I purred, stepping out of my pants and turning toward my dresser. The distraught whine that followed made me giggle more. I turned back, raising an eyebrow as Jason stared up at me. “... Is something wrong, my love?~”

“... Y- you're not gonna cover that up, are ya?” He almost looked like he was gonna pout about it.

I chuckled, sitting on the bed. “Do you not want me to?”

He surged forward grabbing my knees. “No! No I do not!”

“Oh! Well alright then~” I tried to sound surprised, shrugging. “That's all you had to say, darling~”

He groaned softly, kissing my knee. “Fuck … ya can't tease me like this, doll~ … gonna kill me…”

“Well I certainly don't want that … maybe I should put some pj's on…”

“Don't you dare.” An almost feral growl ripped through him as he stared up at me. “You just sit right there, and don't move.”

I shivered, chewing on my lower lip, purring softly; “ah~ o- ok, baby~ whatever you want~”

He grinned, kissing up my thigh. “... you did this on purpose … right? Gettin' me all riled up … can't tease me like this… fuck…”

I giggled, stroking his hair softly. “N- not trying to tease you, Jay~”

“Bullshit.” He smirked up at me, pulling me closer to the edge of the bed; “wearing my colors, looking so damn sexy, having me undress you like a fuckin’ present on Christmas morning, you're being a tease~ you want something from me, don't ya?”

I grinned, biting my lower lip. “... Maybe~ … if you wanna …”

He grinned, wrapping his arms under my legs so they slid onto his shoulders. “Oh, I wanna~”

He pressed gentle kisses to my inner thigh, slowly inching closer and closer to my panties. I groaned softly, laying back on the bed. Finally, he was hovering above my clothed core, looking up at me. He whispered huskily; “... This is ok?” 

I whimpered softly, nodding. “Oh yes~ please, baby~”

He slowly pressed a kiss to my clothed folds. I moaned softly, shivering as he hooked a thumb under my panties, sliding them to the side. “... Fuck, you look incredible~ can … can I have a taste?”

I groaned, nodding quickly. “Dear god, yes! Jay please!”

He leaned forward, slowly sliding his tongue between my folds. My legs tensed around him, instinctually trying to bring him in closer, and I felt him chuckle against me. The tip of his tongue flicked against my clit, making me gasp as he began licking up the slickness that was already coating my folds. He groaned appreciatively, pressing his tongue in deeper.

My hand shot out to grasp his hair, gripping him tight as he explored my entrance. His fingers dug into my thighs, holding my legs firmly in place. I panted and whimpered, clinging to him desperately as he slowly coaxed my orgasm closer and closer. Everything was so hot, and I could barely gasp for breath. My muscles tensed up, silently demanding more, and my core throbbed needily with every groan and moan that Jason poured into me.

“Oh fuck, baby girl~ tastes amazing~” he pulled me closer, pressing his tongue in deep. My back arched as I cried out, gripping the sheets desperately for something to ground myself.

“J- Jay~ s- so close~”

He grinned against me, licking and sucking more, and soon the tightening spring in my stomach gave way to an overwhelming wave of warmth and pleasure. I gasped sharply, letting out a high pitched whine as I collapsed against the mattress, trembling. Jason moaned softly, slowly pulling back.

He licked his lips, grinning up at me; “damn~ that was incredible~”

I giggled breathlessly; “that's my line.”

“You'll have to share it with me then.” He kissed my inner thigh, stroking my hips.

“Mhh~ if you insist, cutie~” I chuckled softly. “Your turn?”

“My turn?” He tilted his head.

I slowly sat up, groaning softly. “Yeah? Do you want me to reciprocate?”

He blinked a bit, blushing. “Uh … d- do you want to?”

“If you're interested.” I grinned, holding out a hand. He leaned against it so my fingers ended up in his hair, and he awkwardly chewed on his lower lip.

“I … I dunno …”

“We don't have to if you don't want.” I stroked his hair, smiling gently. “We never have to do anything.”

He nodded slowly. “... M- maybe next time?”

I nodded. “Maybe next time. What do you want to do right now?”

“... Is it entirely stupid if I say I just want to hold you?” He blushed a bit, kissing my palm.

I giggled and slid off the bed, into his lap. “No, it's not stupid. You can hold me all you want~”

He smiled brightly, shifting so he was leaning against the bed with me in his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck, snuggling against him happily.

“Love you~”

He kissed my jaw, purring softly; “love you more, lil’ mama~”

I sighed happily, lazily playing with his hair. His hands slowly trailed from my hips to my shoulders and back down my spine. The world melted away, and sweet exhaustion took over my body.

Ding! Jason sighed, fishing his phone out of his pocket; “God, what now-...”

I frowned, looking up at him as he trailed off. His entire body was tense, and he was staring at his phone like it had just turned into a two headed snake. “... Baby?”

He pulled me closer, frowning deeply. “We're not going to the manor for training this week. I'll take you to the gym instead.”

“What? Jace, we've been over this, I -”

“No.” He snapped; “this is important. We're not going anywhere near the manor until I say otherwise. Got it?”

I flinched a bit at his harsh tone, frowning. “... Ok. … Why?”

“... Damian's mother is in town.”

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Taglist (open):

@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men @cottage-worm @v1ckycheesue @roastyyytoastyyy @sarakmec @thestarcatcher7297 @stupidlyunhinged @mishkapi @mermaidgirl-11

[hashimasims]

Presenting Kaye for @changingplumbob's Dating Deanna

Hello there! Umm . . . My name's Kaye and I'm applying to be a contestant on Dating Deanna

I've just recently aged up to a young adult (21 in Watcher years) and moved out of my Mother's house and into an apartment in San Myshuno! Nothing I ever did made her happy but I think most of that stems from the fact that we're on one of the spare branches of this save's legacy family - did I forget to mention my last name is Glynnan? I was also born a human which is a MAJOR area of contention for my mother Deliliah who thinks it's a disgrace but my big brother Domenic loves me just the same and doesn't care that I'm not exactly the girly girl princess mother always wanted. I wanted to play football instead of joining the cheer leading team in high school and I'm a bit of a glutton - though I consider myself more a foodie who just enjoys ALL food!

I'm an Adventurous sim and I love the slopes of Mt. Komorebi just don't put me on a set of skis, snowboarding is the only way to go down the mountain! I do have to admit that though I don't dislike rock climbing I'd much prefer using the safer machines found at gyms to actually climbing the mountain after hearing about my Uncle Daolong's incident.

I'm working on becoming a professional athlete one day and here's to hoping one of the EA Gods will patch in professional snowboarding. If that happens I'd be the happiest woman ever! But currently just making Candles and selling them on Plopsy to make a bit of extra cash while I slowly move up the athletic career corporate ladder.

I love listening to music at the end of a long day but PLEASE no winter holiday music! I heard far to much of that All I Want for Winterfest Song while I was working retail as a teenager I NEVER EVER want to hear it again if I can help it!

Now for the specifics I guess . . .

I'm a cisgender female still exploring their sexuality. I'm attracted to both men and woman so being classified as Bisexual might be easiest though I'm leaning more towards Pansexual since I don't really care if someone is nonbinary, trans, genderfluid etc and I've met a few Sims who claim they're bisexual but won't date Trans sims, to each their own but why? If someone makes me happy and I them it seems perfect to me!

My traits are Adventurous, Music Lover, and Glutton. I think there used to be more like Socially Awkward and Vegetarian but my Watcher wasn't sure if @changingplumbob had the more traits mod so removed the last two

My current aspiration is to be a Master Maker

My likes and dislikes are below ↓ There's quite a few but My Watcher actually cut it down from what was there when I was a Teenager

Am I OK with getting flirty with the other contestants? I'm here for Deanna but if any of the other contestants flirt with me I don't see a problem with it since we're not in committed relationships or anything.

Am I open to Polyamory? Maybe? It seems to be working fairly well for my cousin where monogamy hasn't been working for my mother - three kids from three separate failed marriages yikes! Maybe you shouldn't talk trash about El when you don't have even half as healthy of a love life. Sorry mom I know it's not proper to air your dirty laundry on national tumblrvision but oh well! Domenic raised me to think honesty is the best policy so . . .

Open to woohoo? I mean it's part of romance now a days so I'd be alright with it. I just won't let my brother tune in those days. Sorry Dom!

Am I open to flirting with Joey? I think I could be! Again I signed up for Dating Deanna and don't want to hurt her feelings but the heart wants what the heart wants I guess

My watcher is ALL IN!!!

[lylathewise]

S2:E9 First thoughts

Man, she's really sinking

I cried at Silco's chair burning

"Dormammu, I've come to bargain."

You guys have had so long! Why is taking apart the Hexgate such a problem?

They pulled a 'subtle foreshadowing' meme on us?! How?!

When she sees the blue hair, does she think it's Jinx?

Oh nooo, I really liked her, she was cool

Seeing Ambessa in action is scary and exhilarating

"They've got a cave troll."

Oh Loris, we never found out why you were important to the plot

Grey grenades? Fascinating

I FUCKING CALLED IT! MADDIE YOU PIG BITCH

YESSSS, THE BITCH IS DEADDDD

Mel went ahead and said this is not doomed Yuri

Jinx and Ekko, chaotic fun power couple

Sevika, I beg you, stay alive

Oh shit, it's empty

Fuckkkkk

SEVIKAAAAAA

Ok, Sevika might be OK, they wouldn't kill Vi like that

Love the claws on Ambessa's shoes

Her soldiers are fine with her dying?

Man, I knew Viktor would use the Hexclaw. It could never have been a one off

At least NotVander is holding his kids one last time

Viktor literally became The Magician tarot card avatar

AND IT'S EKKO WITH A CRICKET BAT

Oops nvm

EKKO FOR THE WIN

Also, his kneecap(s) is his mask from season 1

It all started with Viktor!!!

Man, they really need to end up together, this is so beautiful

Oh, I guess they kinda are

Oh no, she's standing over his dead body again

SHIT

NOOOOOOOO

JINX AND ISHA GOING OUT AGAINST THE SAME BEING

Jinx deserves her rest, it was never going to end any other way, this was her choice

Noooo, it's the lantern scene from Tangled but it hurts so bad

SEVIKA'S ON THE COUNCIL!!! YOU DESERVE IT SO MUCHHH

Orianna robot!!!

Oof, that corvid

Aww, I wanted to see Cait with a cool prosthetic eye

Vi's singing the bridge song from the first scene of the series! I was hoping they'd do that! Man, this show and parallels

I'm wrecked it's over

[artralichoard]

Rock Climbers au

Last and definitely NOT least, Raph is the Boulderer of the brothers. He loves pushing his strength on really complex routes and intense overhanges. He is either in an intense focus trying to complete his latest boulder problem, or doing the most rediculous things on the wall. He will rope anyone and everyone into his shinanigans. "ok but what if we do this route with JUST our left hand and leg? yeah? that would be fun!" or "what if we put our hand here on this hold, then use this hold to keep your self on the wall- what? yeah I know mean you'd be upside down but thats fine! it goes. trust me" or "oh wait! this hold is perfect for a bathang, donnie c'mon lets see who can hang the longest!"

Boulder is also really fun for Raph because it helps him work on his problem solving skill and thinking ahead. Theres been plenty of time where the brothers are cheering Raph on while he works on a particularly hard problem, only for him to pause mid route. when asked Raph can only respon "I didn't think I'd get this far! wheres the next hold? where do I go from here!?" before falling off the wall in defeat. Donnie tries to instill routereading into Raphs head but it never sticks.

Outside of Bouldering, Raph also like Top Rope. He like working on his stamina, which Top Rope climbing definitely puts to the test. Especially when he has Mikey belaying him, who will bring out Dr. Delicate Touch to get Raph up the wall! "ok I don't think I got anything left, you can bring me down Mikes!" "Nope! you aint getting down till I say so! now go one more time!" He like the burn of a good work out, but hates the idea of Lead Climbing and refuses to try it despite Leo's askance. Top Rope however give Raph the security to climb taller walls reletively stress free.

Mikey | Leo | Donnie

Hooray all the boys are done!!! I really enjoyed making all of these, I can never draw Raph too well so I am exteremely happy with how this turned out! (I may be a little biased as Raph has always been my fave in almost any iteration and I am a boulderer at heart)

Like I mentioned in Mikey's post, most if not all of the inspiration for this au come from my irl experience climbing with my friends. some of the poses I used even are straight up from pics I have of us in our shinannigans XD.

I might come back to this to include April, Casey and Jr. but i'm not 100% sure so for now that is all!! thank you for tolerating my self induldgant au!

[changbinsboobs]

Changbin as husband is next I'm curious for his and hyunjinss

This is the longest fucking reading I've ever had so i just HAD to split it in 2 parts so bear with me. I love him but i hate him right now😩 (no im not)

Husband Series: Changbin pt. 1

Ugh...that guy🫠 i bet you if i let him use up my whole deck he would. The amount of "ok last card" i had to say...and yet there was still so much gushing put...and ugh, i just can't stress enough how much into details he is and how much he wants to stress on them and make sure they don't go unnoticed or get misunderstood or overlooked. Reminds me so much of my audhd friend😭. Anyways back on track - tho i don't even know where to begin from, i really think he used up half my deck. I just counted 23 cards😳 i do indeed draw a lot for the others too but thats just next level. Not on topic but i think he's a really chatty drunk😂 now i wanna read on them when drunk🙌🏻😂

Ok soooo since i have so many cards ill try to combine them as much as i can and keep the messages as concise as possible so this post doesn't become a novel - the overall energy i noticed here is not so much emphasis on him as a husband but overall him as a partner in a committed relationship. Which leads me to believe he himself doesn't view marriage with such dread as the others did (there wasn't really any dread with felix bust still a certain anxiety around responsibilities, meanwhile that with changbin is absolutely nonexistent). I would say he seems himself as capable and even ready to take on that responsibility and role if the opportunity presents itself and i think he believes he'll do a good job. He's responsible, capable and can take care of it. I actually sense a feeling of pride in him about that.

Another MAJOR theme is him being a "simp" for his partner (he insists on wife). There are many cards that im trying to sum up:

He's very protective over her and doesn't let anyone say shit about her, he's giving me guard dog vibes. Also a big bodyguardy. I can see him when being out with her eyeing people and being on alert and just idk, looking scary as to scare of any weirdos before they even think about trying something. And to clear any misunderstandings up, im really not getting this coming from jealousy (not that its not there, it is😂, but its just 10% reason, out of 100), but rather because he wants the woman he loves to feel safe and protected around him. He wants her to be able to relax and trust that he will always have her back and keep her safe. He wants her pretty little witty head not to be bothered by ANYTHING!

More from the simpy train - looks up to her a lot and kinda puts her a bit on a pedestal. This is not a very debilitating energy but feels rather like something he has made peace with and accepts - which is that she is indeed better than him and he can never be able to reach her, which means he is incredibly lucky and appreciative of the fact a woman like that has chosen him and he tries whatever he can to live up to her standard and continue to give her reasons to stay with him and continue to love him. Although she can never love him as much as he does (thats his thought🥲). But as i said this doesn't feel victimy to me at all but rather just seems realistic to him and he's a big boy and can accept reality for what it is and choose to feel lucky instead of beating himself up for not being good enough and self sabotage. Im actually really shocked looking at his energy because i can really feel the strength of his mind and ughh just how innovative and flexible he is. His will is just astounding and making me really happy, despite him obviously having some issues he doesn't let himself be defined by it and chooses to spin them to him favor. What an amazing guy💗

Back to the reading - so he spends a lot of time in his head, doing A LOT of 2 things. One is being thinking of his girl and what he can do to make her happy, analyzing previous conversations to see if he missed something or if he has remembered everything. Contemplating if she maybe gave him a hint about something, or if she maybe looked hesitant with something. Maybe her body language was off? He notes that. If there was any difference in her behaviour today, if she looked different. He's really putting LOTS of energy thinking about her and analyzing her and her behaviour. Again this doesn't seem to come from distrust (although he thinks of that as well, its just not his motivator, he just considers everything, thats why) but rather for his own feeling of safety. I think he is a very thoughtful and analyzing and sensitive person in nature so this may be something he always does, except when its something very important to him, and a relationship at that - he does it even more intensely. He doesn't only think about and analyze her tho. He does that to him too, to their relationship as well. He just wants to have a good understanding and overview of everything that is happening in the relationship so he has a sense of control and safety. You can always fix something if you know its broken. Or beginning to bend. You can fix the problem before the branch brakes i think is what he wants to say. And he wants things to run as smoothly as possible with them, and once again he has taken on the responsibility to make his girls life as easy and carefree as possible and how can that happen if he leaves the whole relationship in her hands?! He can't, so he doesn't his part very diligently and tries to keep up on the same level as her, emotional-intelligence-wise.

He also doesn't to just thinking but planing & organizing. So i think he takes lots of care for other stuff too like planing and booking fun dates. If he cant attend then books fun stuff for her. Provide her with the needed tools/means for her to be able to create, to indulge in her hobbies. He really loves that feminine creator energy and really wants to do his best to encourage and provide an encouraging environment for his wife to get in her feminine creator energy and bring him joy with it. Also thats really random but he's always ready and loves giving her massages😂💗(after her long day of crafting). He just loves hearing about it, seeing the excitement in her voice and face. It charges him.

He also spends lots of time fantasizing about her. Reminiscing wonderful dates, imagining potential future ones, creating scenarios etc. He's just A LOT in his head, his mind is really really active, and its very occupied with his love. Also another random message, commitment and love are tied with him somehow. Im seeing he cant commit if he doesn't love but he also cant love if he can't commit. So i would say he's very extreme-y. Like he's either all in or all out. No middle ground. What i mean is he HAS to be this intense in a relationship because for him thats commitment, THATS expressing love. And if he's not able to do that, then his love and interest and enthusiasm begin to fade away. He HAS to be able to be like that in a relationship and i think often he has been labeled (or was) just WAYYY TOO MUCH for the girls he has been in a relationship with. Im seeing he can get very overwhelming and overbearing if the person he's with just isn't the person to enjoy that kind of commitment and effort. But to go back to the cards, he also fantasizes about physical stuff too, for example he's riding in the car, and for the whole ride he's imagining and giggling and wiggling his feet and twirling his hairs because he plays over and over how that one time while they were still just dating she looked him in the eyes with that wet sexy look, and how his whole body got shivers and his stomach dropped and his heart skipped and his palms got sweaty and he swears some saliva started dripping out the corner of his mouth and his knees got weak and he almost felt like he was gonna black out and by the time he came back to his senses she was already sooo close to his lips and them BAM. Fireworks everywhere. He can never forget how that wonderful kiss felt and how sweet the sexual tension and anticipation before it was. He plays stuff like that OVER AND OVER again the whole damn day.

While being on physical stuff, he is pretty horny ill say. But not in a bunny way,m where he wants to fuck 5 times a day, but rather when around his girl he's always half way up, always ready to rise for the occasion iykwim. I think he gets *excited*👀 very easily and is just really weak when it comes to his girl. He's always ready to deliver whenever she ask, whatever she asks. Als im seeing once again he's a giver (and despite him loving head so much) he's focused on her pleasure and he can off just from watching her enjoy...whatever it is. So yeah thats that😂

Bro im so tired im thinking about doing this in 2 parts😭 im just halfway. Ok yk what im splitting it.

[hexedwinchester]

I'm not here for therapy...

*spoilers ahead..kinda*

It's going to be Camden Casey's character analysis from his three episode arc. This is part 2..

In the 6th episode of this season of Fire Country, Camden is already in Sharon's bad books what with pushing Bode to do something he isn't trained for. Calling the chicklets (or was it eaglets?) ugly (Camden, honey, sweetie, no! You are not supposed to) and eating her yogurt with her name on it (really Sharon? What are you? 12?) doesn't do him any more favours. Not that he cares because damn, he ain't here to please anyone and I quite like that about him. Guess that's where Sharon's judgement about Camden being a sociopath comes from.

Camden is obviously very sharp and quickly picks up on the vibes between Bode and Gabz. And I do get his point about Bode's family, friends and Gabz being a distraction because to some extent they really are. And I don't mean it in a bad way, but Casey is right. Part of Bode's confusion is because different people are expecting different things from him and in order to live up to each of those expectations he is holding back his true self.

Camden as a trainer/captain is a tough guy to please and his methods are definitely out there but I also get where he is coming from. One theme about his character that came across very strong was that he is willing to do anything to protect his crew from real danger, be it breaking protocol or leaving cute eaglets to die (empathy, honey! Also, Speaking of the said eaglets, why didn't the forest chick just move them beforehand? Maybe I don't know the protocol but seriously they could have just moved the nest or the birds). This leads to Casey and Vince Leone butting heads on the strategy. Leone gets the upper hand.

When the fire catches upto the nest, Camden orders to pull out his crew including Bode but Bode refuses to follow his order and goes on to save the birds (thank God!) while Casey storms off coming across heartless (I mean poor birds!). But again I do get why he is the way he is. Clearly losing his crew left a scar on him and that messes with the way he operates.

His strictly business, ruthless and cold nature is what makes his character so interesting to me because Camden, honey, who murdered your cat that you gotta be so heartless about the chicklets? Like I need to know Camden Casey's history, see who or what wired him that way because he clearly isn't that person at heart. The exchange between Leone and Casey at the end unfolds another piece of information: one of the 9 crew members that died was a Casey, his younger brother! Camden almost breaks at the mention of his brother but then gathers himself and walks away.

Camden Casey is clearly someone who suffered grave loss, blames himself for it and has not moved past it. He has built a wall around his heart that keeps people from getting closer or worse getting hurt. Yet, i noticed he blends in the background when he wants to, quiet, just observing his surroundings and the people in it. Which brings me to the last part of my analysis.. wtf was that last scene? Gabz, frustrated that Bode won't keep waiting for her, goes to Smokey's Tavern and gulps down a tequila shot and the camera pans from her to Camden across the bar!?! Like Fire Country wtf am I to make of that scene? It's suggesting two things: Drunk Gabz confronts Casey giving him shit for telling Bode to break up with her or Drunk Gabz and Casey have hate sex (god, I hope I'm wrong!!)

Closing this post on the few things of the episode i really liked:

Camden calling the eaglets straight up ugly 🤣🤣🤣🤣 I mean, he is not wrong.. hatchlings, often furless are not very cute looking. But ok, no, we don't shame anyone here, people, animal and birds alike

Camden eating Sharon's yogurt and then offering her the tub back 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Love the disciplined way Camden holds his stance: hands behind the back. Gosh I find that incredibly hot. I have only seen Jake Crawford do it often on the show then anyone else

Camden training the cadets with the eggs. I'm sure he enjoyed the irony

i don't know if it's an Audrey or Leven thing but I love her tattoos!!

Audrey calling out Sharon's methods! Who is the sociopath now, Sharon, huh?

Everyone naming the pair of eaglets. Someone called them Thelma and Louise and then others followed with their own name. To my SPN girlies, tell me your mind ran straight to Sam and Dean!! (Fire Country, that was a missed opportunity)

bode cooking for Gabz (buddy, she doesn't deserve you)

Bode telling Gabz that a maybe is a no for him! Yes! Finally!

Camden getting emotional over his brother's death

That fucked up eye contact between Casey and Gabz!!!!!

[w1lmuttart]

The factory tour 👀

[mintjeru]

it probably wasn't the smartest decision to start an ongoing 1000+ chapter webnovel when i know it'll consume my every waking thought but here we are

open for better quality | no reposts

[thelilylav]

Hmmm... very interesting to me that Taylor Swift is trending rn and yet for some reason no one in that tag is complaining that her trending is taking away from what's going on in Palestine and what's happening in Rafah. And yet for some reason, people couldn't seem to shut up in the Kendrick Lamar tag when he was trending about how the whole beef was just two celebrities beef (it's much deeper than that) and were making up theories abt how the whole thing was taking attention away from Palestine and everyone talking about it should feel ashamed of themselves (every single account I saw in that tag was posting about Palestine too).

And the thing that's really getting me is that Taylor is trending bc of a change to the Eras tour. An objectively unimportant change to make, especially when compared to what's going on in Rafah. But that's not what gets hate, no, it's the predator getting called out in an industry known for exploitation by one of the biggest artists in said industry. The racism isn't even implicit atp...

Edit: ok so just to clarify no this wasn't meant to insinuate that Taylor trending was some setup of Israel (that's just... like objectively wrong lmao), it was to point out that when it comes to a black artist in hip hop (a predominantly non-white genre) people wouldn't let fans of said genre just enjoy the music and shenanigans happening in that genre and that's it's hypocritical to act like people can't care abt two things at once, but they can enjoy their white "feminist icon" pop star (a much whiter genre) without anyone bringing hate into that tag. like i put in the tags, the anti taylor tag is for filtering bc i honestly don't see this post as particularly negative for taylor swift, it's a critique of the fans. and i'm calling out swifties particularly bc the ones who were saying that the beef was manufactured to take eyes off of rafah were swifties, and the ones being racist in the kendrick tag were swifties. i'm not exaggerating like almost every hate post i saw mentioning the beef being manufactured was a swiftie account. it is weird to act like people caring about very serious allegations happening in a genre of music isn't reason enough to make a big deal of the situation and go INTO THE TAG and complain, but it is especially hypocritical and frankly quite infuriating to see the same people who complained about a big deal of a situation being a "distraction" from gaza and then blog abt taylor swift . it's fine if u want to blog abt music u like, honestly idc abt that, if that's all u do then this legit isn't targeted at u, this is targeted at the swifties who came into the kendrick tag to complain and then went back to talking abt swift two seconds later like they weren't doing the same thing they were complaining abt two minutes before. (sry for the long explanation, but i just don't want ppl taking my words out of context and i rlly tried to word this all clearly, but idk man sometimes u think u word something well and then nobody undrestands wtf u were on abt so i wanted to make sure it was clear) also, if you're a zionist or israel supporter, i will be blocking u if u interact with this post. ok ty bye bye

[citrus-moonlight]

Tara, I love this chapter so much!!! The way that you manage to create such a tangible desire between the two of them even though she doesn't even know what he looks like (and as far as she knows hasn't met him yet 😏) is incredible.

Reader being able to have a different type of release first when she blocks her mother's number was so satisfying. I love how she's finally able to let go of that part of her as she realizes that it isn't worth it anymore, that she is worth so much more than someone who didn't and doesn't want her, now that she knows what it's like to have someone who does.

"You smile at your phone. Your eyes are watery, your cheeks are warm, and your lips are lopsided and trembling. You can blame all of that on the wine, but the way your heart is battering against your ribcage? You've got it bad for some words on a screen, a hand, a pair of shoes, and a ghost."

I love how gone she already is, how everything is building so intensely and she doesn't even know what he looks like yet. And then when she finally lets herself go to the thought of him, and the realization that the relief barely lasts because now the floodgates are open and she only wants more?? LORD. The tension is so good, and I love how delicious it feels as he metes out little details in pictures and words and how they're all so precious to her as she tries to form a picture in her head to focus her desire on (and I am forever screaming at "I'm not going to describe my cock to you" 😂).

"Well then. I'll keep that in mind. I really liked the maroon silk one, personally. I bet it would feel nice on my skin." >I agree, it would feel very nice on your skin.

Good lord, that man is so smooth. And I am also enjoying that she picks out a maroon one (because now I am thinking about that silk robe, and how they would go so well together 😏).

You're done hesitating. Of course you are. But when you take that step, it's going to be on your terms. You know, instinctively, that you should never give up too much power to him. Both because it would be so easy to lose yourself in him—which you don't want to do now that you've finally found yourself—and because he would delight in never giving it back.

The duality that of him that you show is so good, how he swings from >I could have you however I wanted, couldn't I? to the vulnerability admitting that he wants her to touch his face, the "but I think I will if you do it." I love that contrast between the predatory part of him, the part that's truly so dangerous (and yet so intriguing), but then you continue to show how needy he is underneath that, something he's trying to hide under his own mask (he's so pathetic and touch starved, I need him).

And then of course the smut is always so incredible, the way he talks I am just 🥵🫠😵‍💫. The >Only me. Only I can see you like this and >That's right. I'm going to make you sob my name. He's so possessive and demanding I'm going to lose it.

>It's all I've been able to think about for months. It's going to feel so fucking good to finally get to fuck you and come with my cock buried inside of you. And I'm going to do it over and over again until I physically can't anymore. >Do you understand? I NEED you. Fuck!

Ok, knowing it's speech to text makes this is so fucking hot, imagining how desperate his voice must sound, and then THE FUCKING PICTURE?? EXCUSE ME???? And her almost tipping and that feeling of freefall adding to everything when she comes, oh my god that was such a perfect parallel to this whole experience with him, LIKE JESUS CHRIST TARA THIS IS SO GOOD.

Seriously, I am always beside myself when I come back to this chapter, your dialogue and all of the interactions are always so dynamic even when their just talking and exploring. I am so excited to see where things are going to develop and evolve once she finally meets him! (truly I am gnawing on the walls, your slow burns are always so amazing, it drives me crazy and I love every minute of it!) 💖

Seriously, I am always beside myself when I come back to this chapter, your dialogue and all of the interactions are always so dynamic even when they're just talking and exploring. I am so excited to see where things are going to develop and evolve once she finally meets him! Truly I am gnawing on the walls, the way you write and and slowly ratchet up the need and tension is always so mind meltingly good, that slow burn drives me crazy and I love every minute of it! 💖💖💖

The Devil Makes Us Sin

Fandom: Luther, Luther: The Fallen Sun

Pairing: David Robey/F!Reader

Chapter 4/? (12.8k words)

->start at chapter 1<-

<- Chapter 3

AO3 Link

Summary: Your life isn't perfect, and you don't enjoy moonlighting as a camgirl for so many repulsive men, but you need the money and it's yours. You're getting by just fine. You're content.

At least you thought you were. Then you get a strange text message. And you aren't sure if you're horrified or intrigued.

Warnings: Explicit rating, smut, stalking, spying, blackmail, manipulation, dubcon, dubious consent, Dom/sub, sadism, masochism, unprotected sex, oral sex, masturbation, mutual masturbation, choking, dirty talk, praise, humiliation, possessive love, yandere, minor description of gore, minor description of violence, murder, discussion of murder, shame involving sex work, light shaming of sex work, emotionally abusive mother, troubled mother/daughter relationship, sexual harassment, workplace sexual harassment, alcohol consumption, religious trauma

A/N: To all of my fellow readers with mother issues, this chapter is for us 💖 Because those troubled mother/daughter relationship and emotionally abusive mother tags hit real hard this chapter (I'm not projecting, you're projecting). But I eventually make it up to you, I promise. (As a reminder from my notes last chapter, David uses voice to text when they're chatting 😏) Also, I changed the formatting for texting conversations because eventually there will be texting while there is external dialogue, and I don't want it to be confusing. So his texts continue to be in italics and Reader's are in italics AND quotes.

Work title is from "Paradise Circus" by Massive Attack. Chapter title is from Tanaka Mhishi's poem in Literary Sexts II. Text divider 1 is from Francisco de Goya's Witches Flight. Text divider 2 is from Caravaggio's Sacrifice of Isaac.

Chapter 4 - I am fragile and unholy. Open. Ravage. Eat.

That night, after calming down from your conversation with David, you finally do the thing that you've been putting off for far too long. The thing that causes panic to swell in your chest and your mind to recoil whenever you start to examine it. 

You think about your mother.

So you pour a glass of wine, set your phone off to the side, flop down on your couch, and you begin to metaphorically unpack.

You've always prided yourself on being an intelligent woman. You know, logically, this will help you feel better in the long run. It will help you heal. Help you grow. And right now that's what you yearn for—to know and embrace yourself as you truly are, not who you pretended to be for so long that you almost believed it. Not your mask.

The mask that you built because of her, you think. One crafted out of fear and shame. Other people may have honed it, but she laid the foundation.

You also know she's the reason you have so many hang ups and difficulties forming connections with people. You know it's part of the reason you've been miserable for so long. You know this needs to be done. You know that.

It still…well, it hurts.

You learned at a young age to be fiercely independent because you couldn't count on her for support. Or encouragement. Or warmth. Her answer was always the same: "Pray or go to confession." As if all of your problems were your own fault or stemmed from a lack of faith.

And the message was clear—The only love you'll ever get is God's love. Maybe he can fix you.

You wanted it, though. God, did you want her to gather you in her arms and tell you, just once, that she was proud of you. That she truly loved you. You did everything you could to please and placate and impress her, hoping if you were good enough or hid well enough, you might finally get all of that. You got good grades, you were well-behaved, and you went to church, even when you stopped believing. You gave up your dream of being an artist for her, for christsake!

Sure, a part of that was because she tainted the piece of yourself you turned to for expression and escape. But since you're already unpacking every horrible bit of this, you can finally admit to yourself that you also gave it up for her.

For nothing.

Because it didn't work. Getting a business degree and an office job didn't make her proud, it only created a new direction in which you were lacking. You lost a part of yourself and got nothing in return. The thought of it makes you so angry that hot tears prick your eyes.

You get up to pour yourself another glass of wine.

You don't even know why your mother treated you the way she did. You think that if you could at least know why it might be easier to stomach. Then you wouldn't feel so confused and lost. Sure, it would hurt, but it would be something solid you could sit with.

Perhaps she saw that you weren't what she would call normal, and she hated it—wanted to spurn you into changing and hiding. It's ironic, then, that her disgust just fueled that darkness within you. Gave it the sustenance it needed to grow, devoid of warmth, in the corners of your heart and mind.

Maybe all of this would have turned out differently, if only she had loved you.

Or perhaps that's just who she is, and, even if you had been everything she wanted, it still wouldn't have made a difference. Still wouldn't have been good enough. You got it from somewhere, after all.

You'll never know either way.

What you do know is this: If you couldn't count on your own mother, then why would you ever think you could count on or trust anyone else?

Why wouldn't they brush you aside eventually as well? Why bother getting close to anyone—assuming they didn't bore you in the first place? Why wouldn't they see the real you and look just as disgusted as the one person that should have loved you unconditionally? 

And people continuously proved you right by walking away when you didn't thaw under their attention or they caught a glimpse of that darkness—until David. Until he looked and saw the real you, and it only made him want you more.

Well, you're thawing now.

No.

You're melting.

You wonder what your mother would think of you if she could see you at this very moment. On one hand, you've laid waste to the life you built for yourself for a man that stalked you. She'd have a few choice words for you there, such as disappointment and embarrassment. "What will people think?" But on the other hand, you finally have someone and he's rich, which would go a long way towards forgiveness. Because, even though she prides herself on her piety, pride is her greatest sin. She would tell everyone she knew, as if it were her achievement, while conveniently leaving out the rest of it. Like the fact that you're happy.

As you're pouring your third glass of wine, you debate calling her. It's not too late. She should still be awake. You can finally ask her why. Why nothing you've done has ever been good enough. Why she cared about God and what everyone else thought more than her own daughter. 

You can ask her why you can't remember the last time she hugged you or told you she loved you. Because a daughter should be able to recall that, shouldn't she? Oh, she said it plenty in front of other people. She gave you scraps with no meaning behind the words or warmth in her eyes. But in private, where no one else was watching her performance? You got nothing. You starved for affection. Maybe you can ask her why.

But you know that's the alcohol talking.

And it wouldn't do any good anyway. You won't get the answers you seek or the apology you need. You won't get promises to do better. You won't get a mom.

This was all for nothing.

Instead, you pick up your phone and block her number.

No contact. A clean cut. Never again.

You expect that to hurt, too, but for the first time since you started this, you feel lighter. Because you're finally done looking for hope where there isn't any to be found. You're also finally acknowledging that you deserved everything she never gave you. And that isn't a failing on your part—it never was. It's her failure. Another one of her sins. Now it's her loss.

Maybe you should have done that years ago, but you're doing it now. You're moving forward and letting go, and that's what's important.

While your phone is in your hand, you check your messages to confirm that David hasn't sent you anything. You aren't surprised. You hadn't expected him to. But that doesn't mean you didn't want him to.

You want it all the time now, you realize. It's only been a couple of hours since you ended the call, but you'd still love nothing more than to get back on and talk to him again until the early hours of the morning.

You may have been able to stop yourself from angrily calling your mother, but the combination of wine and your already weakening grasp on your self-control when it comes to him means you're typing before you even realize it.

"Thank you. For everything. I can never say it enough, David, because you've done more for me than any person in my life EVER has. I mean it. Truly. I'm so grateful."

"Also, for the record, I'm certain I could pick you out of a crowd now."

You're welcome. Always.

And I'll keep that in mind the next time I need coffee.

You smile at your phone. Your eyes are watery, your cheeks are warm, and your lips are lopsided and trembling. You can blame all of that on the wine, but the way your heart is battering against your ribcage?

You've got it bad for some words on a screen, a hand, a pair of shoes, and a ghost.

The next morning, you sleep in until a gloriously late hour. Just because you can. And because last night was emotionally exhausting—you're certain the wine didn't help either. Even when you're no longer tired, you lie in bed, wrapped in the warmth of your blankets, and bask in the knowledge that you never have to go back to that office ever again.

Or speak to your mother, you think with a contented sigh.

You feel untethered, but not adrift. No, you know exactly which direction you're headed, and now you have the freedom to do so.

Eventually you resume your search for a new bed on your phone as well because you start to think about how blissful this lounging would have been on a comfortable mattress. With silk sheets. And a new nightgown... Oh, now there's an interesting thought. You could get something new and sexy. Maybe something with lace. Or more silk. Or, even better, something sheer that barely covers your ass.

You also think about how much David would enjoy all of those things.

You start off looking at sleepwear that leans more sensible than sexy, but as you begin to wonder what he would think of each one, you quickly find yourself clicking on more and more revealing pieces.

It's when you're looking at a see through, drapey number that comes off with only a clasp between your breasts that your phone buzzes with a new text message.

You grin. You wondered how long it would be before he reached out to you. Now you're absolutely certain he's keeping tabs on you and saw how racy your searches were getting. Part of you was doing it on purpose—baiting him until he couldn't resist any longer. Even if it gave him away. You know better than to trust a coincidence.

Are you enjoying your first day of freedom?

"Immensely. I haven't even gotten out of bed yet." You're smug as you hit send because now you've added the thought of you in bed to his mental image of the lingerie.

Is that so? Sounds as though you're having a lovely morning.

Any other exciting plans for the day?

"Not unless you count a date with a book on my nightstand."

Depends on what kind of book.

"Well, there are two of them for me to choose from. One is a murder mystery. The other is a steamy romance novel." It's a lie. You have two art history books and an Amedeo Modigliani biography on your nightstand.

I see. Two very different types of thrilling.

"Exactly. On one hand, the murder mystery would stimulate my brain."

It takes a minute longer for you to get a response to that.

And what would the romance novel stimulate?

"My heart, David. What else?" You bite your lip in excitement as you continue to type.

"Now tell me which one you would like best."

If I had to choose between the two, I would prefer the murder mystery.

"Of course you would. But I meant which of the lingerie you would like best. Because I know you were watching me."

There's another pause.

All of them.

"All of them?! But there were so many!"

I'm certain. I liked all of them.

Especially since you'd be the one wearing them.

A pleasant heat unfurls in your chest and creeps up your neck at the thought of him sitting there, watching you browse, picturing you in every outfit…and maybe even saving a few of the links for later.

"Well then. I'll keep that in mind. I really liked the maroon silk one, personally. I bet it would feel nice on my skin."

I agree, it would feel very nice on your skin.

Fuck.

The mental image of his hand trailing up your thigh—pushing the hem of the nightgown higher and higher while the fabric and his palm slide over your quivering flesh—flashes vividly through your mind.

You had been enjoying a morning of relaxation and contentment just a few minutes ago. Even with a bit of light teasing about the lingerie, it had been peaceful. Now? Now that feeling has been reshaped and is nothing more than a memory. Now a slick heat has ignited in your core, and you're left nearly panting and writhing in your blankets from the intensity of it.

How quickly he can send you reeling.

God, you're definitely buying that one. Later. Right now, however, you finally have the chance to flirt with him—really flirt—and you're going to take it. Because you know where this is headed. You know where it could have resolved yesterday but didn't because you were at work.

And you're so glad you're not at work right now, stuck squirming and struggling at your desk as you try to ignore the swollen ache between your legs. Instead, you're squirming in the privacy of your bed, and you no longer have to ignore anything. Now you have no intention of stopping.

This is how you want to respond to him.

You're also really enjoying feigning innocence, and you're curious to see how much longer he'll play along. Because you have no illusions that he's buying a second of it.

"I don't think I'll be getting the black one with the sheer lace top, though. It didn't look very comfortable. I wouldn't be able to wear it for long."

Before he can reply, you quickly type out, "Wait. You're not busy, are you? I should have asked first before carrying on about my online shopping. That was rude of me."

I'm not anymore.

"Just get out of a meeting?"

I just canceled my last meeting because I've suddenly found something much better to do.

"Is helping me pick out pajamas really that thrilling?"

You can stop playing dumb now. You and I both know exactly what you're doing.

"What am I doing?" You straighten up and hold your breath in anticipation. You must be getting to him. You expected him to hold out just a little bit longer. Not that you're complaining. Not when you know you have his full attention.

You're trying to get me bothered as payback for yesterday.

"Is it working?"

You know it is.

"And just how bothered are you?"

Very.

You let out a shaky breath as you sink back into your pillows and begin to settle in. "Good. But that's not the only reason I'm doing this, David."

Is that so? What other reason do you have?

"Because I want to. Because I'm enjoying having the freedom to respond to you the way that I want."

Intriguing. And how are you doing that?

"I'm sure you'll find out soon enough." You shift your phone to your dominant hand to keep it steady. Then your other hand disappears beneath your covers and continues traveling down to the waistband of your panties.

Will I?

"You will. As long as you continue to please me." You nudge the fabric out of the way to give yourself the access you need and eagerly slip your hand inside. When your fingers finally brush over your arousal, you groan with relief.

There's nothing I want more than to please you.

"Is that so? How are you going to do that?" You repeat his words back to him as you rub a little harder along your damp folds. The added pressure makes your eyelids go heavy with lust. You spread your legs wider, seeking even more of that friction.

By giving you what you need.

God, you want that. From him. The thought of it makes you ache. Your fingers move to circle over your clit, dragging some of your wetness with them, and you moan into your empty bedroom. You shakily type out, "And what do I need?"

Me.

Shit. You had planned to go slow and tease yourself. You wanted to draw out the banter so you could savor your first time touching yourself to him. Because, despite the fact that he's turned you into a horny wreck several times already, you've held off until now. But as you read his text—that single word—it's as if your body has been doused in kerosene and lit on fire. Your hand speeds up.

"You seem awfully sure of that."

I'm very sure.

Are you going to tell me that I'm wrong? Or are you going to be honest?

You quickly debate finding a way to deny it. To get him to push harder because his arrogant confidence is stoking the flame in your belly and you want more. But every response you come up with sounds so flimsy. You know it won't work. He'll just call out the lie. He knows exactly how you're responding to him now, and he won't let it go, like a shark sensing blood in the water.

Well, if he wants to circle, then you'll give him prey instead—something he can't resist.

"Honest."

There's a good girl. Then be honest for me. Tell me what you need.

You cry out and your hips roll to meet the rhythm of your fingers. Your other hand is still gripping your cell phone, holding onto it for dear life so you don't drop it and miss a single word. "You."

That's right. And are you thinking about me right now?

"Yes." You are. You're thinking about his hands all over you, driving you wild and breathless and working needy little whimpers from your throat.

Very good. I hope you're thinking about all of the things I plan to do to you when I finally get my hands on you.

"Tell me. Please." More, you think. God, you need more.

And spoil the surprise? You'll have to use your imagination for now.

You grunt in frustration. "That's a little difficult when I don't know what you look like."

That is unfortunate, isn't it?

He's so god-damned smug! Jesus, it's infuriating!

There's a responding surge of wetness beneath your fingers, and the slick sound becomes obscene in your quiet bedroom.

"I've told you, it's unfair."

Nothing about this is supposed to be fair.

Your grip weakens and your phone nearly slips from your grasp, but you frantically right it. You're getting so close… "David, please!"

I promise when we move forward, you'll find out for yourself. But only when you're ready.

Unless you're done hesitating?

You know he's dangling that in front of you, tempting you with what you want so you'll say yes. You want to say yes. You want to call him right now and let him hear you say it as you moan and beg into the phone.

But that's giving him too much.

You're done hesitating. Of course you are. But when you take that step, it's going to be on your terms. You know, instinctively, that you should never give up too much power to him. Both because it would be so easy to lose yourself in him—which you don't want to do now that you've finally found yourself—and because he would delight in never giving it back.

"I suppose we'll see, won't we? I would hate to ruin the surprise."

Now who's being unfair?

"I'm only playing by your rules."

Clever.

My clever, beautiful girl. I can't wait to see you like this. I bet you look so good for me right now. Don't you?

"Yes!"

That's right. So fucking good and needy for me. God, I want you so much.

Your grip goes slack again, and this time you do drop your phone onto the bed. But you don't stop to pick it up. You're too far gone now, and you couldn't type even if you wanted to. Instead, you redouble your effort and greedily chase your orgasm, your hand moving in rapid strokes against your clit.

It's fast and messy and desperate. You haven't masturbated like this in years, but the tension has been building inside of you. It's grown under all of his teasing, his suggestive comments, his perceptive observations, and his unrevealing photos until you couldn't ignore it any longer. Now you need to release it at last—to immolate yourself in your desire.

For him.

"David," you moan. His name rolls off your tongue for the first time in ecstasy. It happens so naturally, as if you've said it that way a hundred times before. As if your mouth knows the way to give shape to your longing.

Hearing his name, when you're already poised on that edge, is your undoing.

You throw your head back into the pillow and arch off the bed with a cry as that tension finally snaps, sending a white hot fission through your veins in its place. Your toes curl and your newly freed hand bunches a fistful of your sheets, pulling them taut while your whole body shudders with every violent swell of pleasure.

As you come, all you can think about is him. "Fuck!" The movement of your fingers over your clit becomes jerky, but never slows. You're determined to make every second of this feel so fucking good. "David!" It rolls and rolls and rolls through you, weakening and yet seemingly without end as you work every last bit of rapture from your sensitive flesh—

Until, finally, you collapse against the bed with a whimper, and your hand flops weakly down onto the mattress next to you. You lay there, gasping for breath, your eyes closed, and your limbs and your brain and your belly humming in the heady afterglow of your release.

By all accounts, this should bring you a bone deep satisfaction. It should have quelled the fire that burns for him, even if only temporarily.

But as your mind clears, you feel quite the opposite. As if something has awakened inside of you, stirring from a deep slumber in that same way he roused your darkness.

And it's ravenous.

You grope along the bedspread for your phone.

When you pick it back up, your hands are still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm.

"I think I'm rather enjoying my new freedom."

So am I.

A groan is wrenched from your chest as you glance up at his previous messages and wonder just how much he was enjoying it. You have a pretty good guess.

"God, David. I miss you."

I miss you, too. But not for much longer.

"Would you like to chat now?" There's a renewed flutter of interest from your swollen sex as you think about doing this again, but for him.

There's nothing I want more. Unfortunately, I have some important personal matters to take care of this afternoon, but I promise the evening is yours. How does 6 o'clock sound?

There's a pang of disappointment in your chest. That's hours from now! But before you can pout, you remind yourself that you're an adult. You can control and entertain yourself until then, for christsake. Besides, he said the evening was yours. You'll have plenty of time to talk to him later.

You also really want to ask what sort of personal matters because you're curious about what they could be, and about him in general, but he would have elaborated if he wanted you to know. The word personal also denotes a certain level of privacy. So you leave it be. For now.

"That sounds lovely. I'm looking forward to it."

Me too. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy your date with the book on your nightstand.

"I've changed my mind there, actually. I have a lot more shopping to do instead." You give your phone a little grin.

Oh?

"Yes. It's been so productive and satisfying thus far. Who knows what other wonderful things might result from it?"

I see.

"I hope you enjoy your afternoon."

I'm certain I will. Enjoy your shopping.

You end up purchasing some of the lingerie that gets you particularly worked up whenever you think about him—especially the maroon one. Then you spend the rest of your day purging your wardrobe of your boring work clothes and whatever else reminds you too much of your old life. The result is a sparse apartment and an even barer closet, but you like it. It's a reflection of where you are in life and of all the room you have to grow and rebuild the way you want.

You may occasionally take breaks from downsizing to browse for new outfits and dresses, but it's to figure out what you like so you can eventually replace what you're getting rid of. It's definitely not to keep David intrigued throughout the day and looking forward to talking to you again. Not when he's so busy. That would be cruel.

You can't remember ever smiling this much.

You log on several minutes early. You don't care that it's probably a little pathetic. You don't even care if it lets him know exactly how eager you are for this. You've been checking the clock since five and you were getting impatient. You can only pace so many circles in your living room before you lose your mind. Not that sitting there and staring at your own face is any better, but at least it gets you closer to him.

To your relief, he logs on a few minutes early, too. Possibly because he knows you're already here, but you hope it’s because he was impatient as well. The electronic chime makes your heart swell in your chest.

"Hello, David."

Hello, darling.

The image of you on the screen practically swoons at his greeting. There's no other way to describe the gentle tilting of your head, your dreamy smile, or how your eyes soften with affection.

You barely recognize this woman.

You're not sure you've ever made that face before now. Or if you have, it was when the National Gallery rotated Cornelius van Haarlem's Two Followers of Cadmus devoured by a Dragon back into display after you hadn't seen it in a while. Never for another person. Certainly not for a black square not even three centimeters wide.

This man is dangerous.

Getting impatient, were you?

"I knew you were going to say something," you grumble as you fight off a sudden wave of embarrassment.

How could I not? You have no idea how lovely this feeling is. It's gratifying to have such a beautiful woman wanting to talk to you.

You lean in close and lower your voice. "In that case, I was very impatient."

Hmm. I'm so very pleased to hear it.

Did you have a productive afternoon?

"I did, actually. I accomplished quite a bit."

Good. And did you have fun shopping?

"You know I did." You give the camera a heated smile. While it wasn't as risque as the lingerie, the clothes you were looking at—low cut silky blouses, high slit skirts, backless tops, skin tight pants—were still sexy, just in a more subtle way.

Do I?

You roll your eyes and ignore the obvious bait—something that would have irritated a response from you just a few days ago. "How was your afternoon?"

Also productive, despite the circumstances.

"Circumstances?" You cock an eyebrow, no longer able to ignore it. He really does know how to push your buttons, after all, much to your chagrin. "Do you mean with your personal matters or do you mean spying on me?"

Both, but I wouldn't call it spying.

"Well, I would! So it serves you right." Despite your fake outrage, you're thrilled he was still paying attention, even when he was busy.

Do you want me to stop?

You pause to consider your answer. You think you should probably be unsettled that he's monitoring all of your activity. If any other man did that, you would be furious and horrified, but he's not any other man. He's also not holding it over you, making you feel bad, or controlling what you're doing. So far—your answer would change if he were. He's simply looking.

And you enjoy knowing that he's looking. In a strange way, it makes you feel connected to him, even when you aren't chatting, as if it's just another aspect of your relationship. It also makes you feel like you're the most important and interesting thing in his life—you'll admit that particular feeling has become quite addictive. You enjoy being able to take advantage of it as well, like you did this afternoon.

However, there may be times when you do want privacy for a specific reason. He certainly doesn't need to know every detail about your hygiene purchases or your embarrassing Google searches. Well, future embarrassing searches, anyway. It also makes it very difficult to surprise him if he can see what you're up to.

"No, I don't want you to stop." Your lips curl into a seductive smile. "I like it quite a bit, in fact. I just have one condition."

What's that?

"If I do ever ask for privacy, you give it to me. No questions asked and no looking."

Of course. Then you'll have it.

"I mean it," you say seriously. "I need to trust you'll respect my wishes."

You have my word that I will give you privacy whenever you request it. You only ever need to ask.

"Alright." You relax in your chair, mollified by his response. Because you believe him. "Thank you, David."

You're welcome.

Now tell me about your productivity.

"That's not a very exciting topic of conversation, I'm afraid. In fact, most of it was quite boring."

Tell me anyway.

"Well, I went through my flat and got rid of everything that felt like it belonged to the person I was pretending to be and not me."

I see. That doesn't sound boring. You shed another one of your layers.

I bet it felt good.

"It did! It felt freeing. I didn't realize before how much my place felt like a stage. As if the performance didn't stop, even when I was alone. And when I had a roommate? God, no wonder I was always so miserable."

It's also probably why you grew to resent every roommate you've ever had, no matter how much you didn't mind or tolerated them when they moved in. It didn't matter if they were quiet or cleaned up after themselves. Their presence meant the only place you could truly let your guard down was your bedroom. It was exhausting.

"But now the set dressings are gone. No more calf length pencil skirts or tacky lingerie. No more gifted kitchen gadgets and holiday candles. No more cheap art prints of pieces that I don't even like.” Then you grumble, “God, I swear I had like, half a dozen versions of Irises.”

No more mask.

"No more mask," you repeat out loud with a sigh of relief. Even saying it feels incredible. "Speaking of, you'll be pleased to hear I've also been doing some reflecting since we talked yesterday." You can't help the smug grin that creeps onto your face.

Oh?

"Yes. I've figured out where my reflex to apologize when I think I've upset or inconvenienced someone comes from."

Have you? Does that mean you're ready to talk about your mother?

You huff out a laugh and shake your head. Of course. You should have seen that coming. "You're frighteningly good at that."

It's a gift.

You can feel his smirk through your screen. "So it is. And I'm glad to know that I'm predictable."

I never used that word.

"It's true, though." You shrug, unbothered by your own statement. "It's a behavior that's usually learned in childhood. In this instance, I'm not particularly unique."

I disagree.

"I just meant that a lot of people have troubled relationships with their parents." A lot of them developed the same issues from it as well, you think to yourself. Granted, the cliche is that women in the sex work industry have daddy issues, not mommy issues. So perhaps you're not entirely predictable.

And yet, they're not you. They didn't become what you are.

"And just what am I?" That's another thing you haven't looked at too closely. You've been so consumed with the "who," you haven't really considered the "what."

You're something entirely different. Something more like me.

"That's not an answer."

I assure you, it is.

"It's not, David," you insist. "I still don't fully know what that means!"

If you're expecting me to pathologize you instead, I'm not going to.

"Why not?" You tilt your head curiously. You weren't actually expecting him to, but now you're intrigued as to why he won't.

Because that's not an answer to your question either. Those terms and labels are just more costumes that don't suit you. You're far more than that.

Before you can object that you disagree and that it might actually help you understand yourself better, he continues on. As if he anticipated what you were going to say.

It would also imply there's something wrong with you. But there's nothing wrong with you, despite what anyone may have told you in the past.

"You really do have me all figured out, don't you?" There's more affection in your voice than you intended.

I told you. I see you.

"You do. And I'm guessing you see my text message history, too." You raise an eyebrow at the camera in challenge, daring him to deny it.

You thought a lot about what else he would have access to after he blindsided you with the knowledge of your side bank account. Reading your texts would be absurdly easy in comparison, so of course he knows about your relationship with your mother. It's also how he knew that threatening to tell her your secret would be so effective.

That as well.

"I think that's the first thing I know you've seen that I feel embarrassed about."

Why?

"Because it means you've seen the worst of my mask," you say quietly.

I wouldn't say that. I saw a daughter desperate for her mother's affection and approval.

"Oh, god," you groan as you rub a hand over your face, completely mortified by his phrasing, but unable to find fault in it. "That's exactly what I mean!"

You're not the one who should be embarrassed by those messages.

"I'm the only one that is. Or will be. Trust me, she thinks everything she's ever said to me was righteous and justified, and you can't get blood from a stone." You flop your hand back onto the desk—a little harder than you meant to—and it makes your webcam shake.

You can already feel that mixture of hurt and anger rising in your throat and threatening to spill out. You quickly swallow it down and take a deep breath to regain control over your emotions. You're not going to have a breakdown on camera because of her. You're done letting her hurt you.

It's not righteous or justified, but I'm guessing you know that already.

"I do, but I appreciate the reassurance anyway." You give him a soft, grateful smile. Then your face falls as you glance back down to your keyboard. "What else did you see?"

Most of your text conversations with her are arguments. I suspect your phone conversations are similar.

"They are," you confirm without hesitation. "I don't think we know how to communicate any other way."

But you're not the instigator, are you?

"No," you sigh heavily. "I do everything I can to avoid an argument because I'm just so tired of it, but it usually doesn't matter. She can always find fault with my tone or something I've said. And of course there's also the fact that I don't go to church, don't have an important career, haven't gotten married, and don't have or want children. You can imagine her disappointment."

I shudder to think.

What an exhausting, horrible woman.

"That she is," you can't help but laugh. Despite the heavy topic of conversation, his irritation on your behalf is endearing. "I hate calling her or answering the phone. And God forbid I need something! You'll note that when I needed money to keep my flat, I became a camgirl before I even thought about asking her for help."

I had noticed you never considered doing anything else. Then I read your messages and it wasn't difficult to understand why.

You try not to feel mortified once again at the reminder that he's seen those. Instead, you tell yourself that he saw them and he kept looking. They didn't disgust him or scare him off—from you anyway. Even after reading them, he still wanted you.

You truly understand now what he's always meant when he says he sees you. It's a very assuring, lovely thought.

"It turned out to be a wonderful decision, at least." You give the camera a coy smile in an attempt to lighten the mood.

I would have to agree. A very wonderful decision.

"She wouldn't have helped me anyway, so I knew it was pointless. The few times she did, she lorded it over me constantly. As if I should be forever in her debt because she paid for my university textbooks years ago."

Is that another reason you were so afraid to take my money? Or why you were worried about feeling as though you owed me?

"Huh…" You lean back in your chair as you mull THAT one over. You hadn't quite connected those dots yet, but now that he's pointed it out, you have always been bad at accepting any help or gifts. Every single one felt like it came with an unspoken expectation or debt of some kind that would be called upon later. Now you know why.

You briefly wonder what other sort of connections you'll make in the future. Because you're starting to realize there are still plenty of them left to be uncovered.

"I think that was part of it, certainly, but you have to admit, the circumstances were also a very big factor as to why I didn't want your money."

Of course. You thought I was trying to buy you.

"I absolutely did! And in a way, you were," you tease. "It was just my attention you were paying for."

I made no attempt to hide that what I wanted was you, but it really was a gift. I knew the money would give you the freedom to think about everything I said, and once you did, you could no longer ignore your mask. Then maybe you would finally rid yourself of it. I wanted that for you.

And I wanted to see what would become of you when your strings were cut.

"Well, are you pleased with your handiwork?"

Quite pleased. I'm enjoying seeing the real you and how beautifully you've flourished in the light, now that you're no longer hiding.

"I have flourished, haven't I? I feel at home in my own skin for the first time in my life." You arch your shoulders, stretching lazily as if to savor the truth of your statement, before resting your forearms on the desk. You look quite pleased with yourself as well. "For so long I've been afraid to peel back all those layers and confront what's underneath, but now that I'm finally realizing who I am and what I want, I can't stop picking. I like what's underneath."

So do I.

You deserve to be proud. You've been working very hard to find your truth.

A warmth radiates through your chest at his praise.

"I have." Then you smile sadly. "Unfortunately, the truth hasn't always been painless."

No. It's never that.

"But every second has been worth it to have this." You glance up at the camera and let the double meaning hang in the air.

I'm glad. And I would have to agree. Wholeheartedly.

After a hesitation, you say, "One of those painful truths was realizing that my mother probably had a big hand in making me what I am."

Darling, NO.

The only thing she had a hand in was making you feel ashamed of yourself or like you had to hide what you are. She tried to destroy something exquisite and she failed. You are what you are despite her.

Do you know why? It's because you're better than her. You always have been and she knows it. Why do you think she treats you the way she does? That woman is a monster and she doesn't deserve any part of you.

Your eyes immediately fill with tears as you read the chat box. No one's ever told you that before. You may have come to the same conclusion last night, but you had no idea how much you needed to hear it from someone else, so to speak. Now hearing it from him?

"God, David. I've never…" you trail off, your voice choked with emotion. It takes you a second to get control over yourself enough to continue. "Thank you. And you're right." You sniffle and quickly try to blink away the tears. Then with more force, you say, "I've endured her for too long. Thankfully, I never have to again. I blocked her number last night and I'm cutting her out of my life."

You did?

"I did. Once I realized there was nothing good there to hold onto, even the idea of removing her from my life brought me more peace and happiness than having her in it ever did."

Good. I hope it does.

"So far, so good." You give him a teary smile.

I'm sure that couldn't have been easy.

"It wasn't. Or at least the process of coming to that conclusion wasn't, but it was all far more anticlimactic than I thought it would be."

Is that why you sent me that message?

"Oh, god." Your face begins to burn with embarrassment as you remember texting him while more than a little tipsy. "Yes," you finally answer sheepishly while you glance up at the ceiling. 

Why are you embarrassed by that?

"Because, if I'm being honest, I was two and a half glasses of wine in when I sent that."

Were you now?

"I was. I knew it was the only way I would be able to cope with that whole process."

And did it help?

"I think it did. I got through it, anyway. I'm just glad that I didn't call or text her. God, that would have been a trainwreck." You glance suggestively up at the camera and lower your voice. "I have far less self-control when it comes to you, apparently."

You have no idea how much I enjoy hearing that.

"But we should both be grateful that I didn't send you anything messier than I already did."

I don't know, sounds intriguing.

"See, you're thinking about me sending you something sexy, but I'm worried about sending you something frantic and emotional," you laugh. "Which would have been far more likely given the circumstances."

Hmm. I see your point.

"So anticlimactic really was for the best all around. And it's done now."

Good riddance.

"Do you want to know the worst part, though?" This time there's a bitterness to your smile, and it doesn't meet your eyes. "Through all of this, I never stopped wanting her to love me. I tried so hard. I never stopped trying, but she did. A long time ago. She'll never be the mom that I want, just like I was never the daughter she wanted. I know that now and I've finally made peace with that reality. Plus, realizing I would never understand or get any sort of closure was another big catalyst for me to finally pull that trigger the way I did." Your face finally softens. "But I never would have confronted any of that if not for you."

You would have gotten there on your own. Eventually.

“Possibly. I was getting exhausted from it. To the point that everytime my phone rang, I considered tossing it out the window rather than answer it.”

I could make her life miserable, you know.

If you asked it of me.

"Tempting." You let out a chuckle and wipe away the remnants of a tear drying on your cheek. "But I'd rather her not be in my life at all, even through you. I'm making a clean cut so she can no longer use me to build herself up, and for her that will be a worse punishment than anything you could think of."

I don't know. I have a very vivid imagination.

But I will leave it be unless you change your mind.

"I do appreciate the offer." You smile gratefully. "That's twice now you've given me the opportunity for vengeance."

It won't be the last, should you ever feel the need for it.

"Is it strange that I find the thought of you wanting to make someone miserable for hurting me sweet and endearing?"

No.

I would hurt anyone you asked me to, even if all they did was annoy you.

"You would?"

I would. Without hesitation. For you.

"Fuck," you gasp as you squirm in your seat, suddenly very turned on. "I really like the thought of that."

Do you?

"I do." 

How much?

"This much." You bite your lip as you bring your hands to your top. Then you begin to slowly unbutton your blouse. The heat that started between your thighs rises to your belly. This is finally happening.

There's a pause.

You're sure?

"Yes. I'm so sure you didn't even have to ask." Your fingers continue to methodically work each loop as you speak, driven on by determination. "I'm done hesitating. I want this, David. I wanted it last night before I got interrupted, and I wanted it this afternoon."

You’ve found closure for so much of your past—all the ties to your old life, your social media, your friends, your job, your mother—and you're done looking back. All you want now is to move forward. After all the emotional turmoil you went through to get to this point, all you want is to fall into him.

Once you’ve finished, your top spills open, revealing the cups of your bra and your bare stomach on the screen. The chat box sits, unmoving, and you realize he must be watching very carefully. So you slide the fabric down your arms, seductively arching your chest towards the camera to make a show of it, until it comes free. You toss it to the side without looking. Then you're left in nothing but your bra and skirt.

"I want you to see me. All of me. I want to show you what you're missing, hiding from me behind that screen. You could be here with your hands and your mouth on me, instead, you know. I want you to think about that, and I want you to touch yourself while you do." You look directly into the webcam with all of the desire, need, and heat that has been building up inside of you for the past week. "Because I plan to as well. Again."

You have no idea how much I’ve resisted doing all of that. It's taken every ounce of my self-control to resist you.

"Why can't we just give in then?" You beg for the camera. "Why can't we just skip this part? Come here now. Tonight. Touch me instead."

You aren't ready for that yet.

"I strongly disagree!" You scoff, almost offended at the implication that you don't know what you want.

Besides, I get to see you like this first, remember? I get to see you in a way no one else ever has. I've earned it.

"You have," you sigh in acceptance. You knew it was a long shot, but it was worth a try. "Don't worry, I'll give it to you. Not just because I'm too fucking horny to argue with you properly right now, but also because I said I would, and I'm still going to enjoy letting go for you. Just know that it's a poor substitute for you. Because what I really want is to hear your voice as you tell me how good it feels to fuck me. I want to hear the way you moan and gasp when you lose control of yourself inside of me. I want to know your face when you do. Because I want you, David."

It takes a moment for him to reply. You're aware you'll never get to know exactly how he responded to you. You'll never get to see the look on his face or hear the sounds he made as you said those things to him. But, you think with no small amount of smugness, you can take a very good guess.

Then you'll have me. Soon.

Until then, show me what I'll have.

Take off the rest of your clothes. I want to see you.

You stand up from your chair to do as he instructed. The angle of the camera means your face is no longer in view, and it reminds you so much of your streams that it's momentarily jarring. But once you unzip your skirt, you bend forward to push it down your hips, and the sight of your own face brings you back to the moment.

The one where you're stripping for your stalker slash blackmailer, and it's the sexiest, most romantic thing that's ever happened to you.

Your skirt hits the floor with a soft thump, and you step out of it as you nudge it to the side with your foot. If you remove one more thing, it will be the most he's ever seen of you. Now each step forward is not only new, but is one step closer to getting what you really want: Him.

The thought is thrilling.

So thrilling that you waste no time. You hook your thumbs into the thin elastic of your panties and slip them—slowly, inch by inch to continue teasing him—to your knees, baring your lower half to him.

You stand there for a few seconds, letting him take it all in. That's what he wanted, after all. To see all of you. For you to show him all of you. Every moment between you has been leading to this, and you won't deny him now.

When you sit back down, you slide your panties the rest of the way off. They get thoughtlessly added to the growing, scattered pile. Then you stay there on your repurposed dining room chair, bare skin on wood, and you wait.

As you do, you're very careful to keep your legs closed. It wouldn't do to rush this and give everything away all at once. Especially not when you currently hold all of the power. He may have earned this, but so have you. And you’re going to relish it for as long as you can.

Except there's still nothing new in the chat box. You tell yourself he's probably just settling in and enjoying the view, but the silence is unnerving. You have no way of knowing what he's thinking right now, if he's even enjoying it, and that makes you feel exposed. You’ve gotten so comfortable with the back and forth—of getting some feedback—that not getting it is a sobering reminder that you can't read his expressions or hear the tone of his voice. All he really is to you is text on a screen.

“David?” You call out hesitantly.

Another minute passes and you start to wonder if he's intentionally trying to make you squirm. He does enjoy it, after all. Or perhaps he recognizes how the balance of power has shifted, and he's trying to take some back for himself. It does seem like a very David thing to do.

Then, without warning, your mind offers up the possibility that he's disappointed. That you aren't what he was expecting and now he’s—

God, you’re beautiful. I knew you would be.

Relief courses through you, alleviating the weight that was settling in your chest.

Or maybe he was just taking his pants off, too.

I want to see the rest of you.

That's all the reassurance you need to banish that momentary doubt completely.

You reach behind yourself to undo the clasp of your bra. Rather than remove it, you hug the material loosely to your chest and give the camera a coy glance.

“You mean like this?” You tease as your fingers play with the straps.

Yes.

Take it off.

You slowly lower your arms, letting it fall away from your breasts. And just like that, you're naked on screen—something you never thought would happen. Something you swore would never happen. But there you are, running the tips of your fingers enticingly up the tops of your thighs and over your bare hips. For him.

Seeing you like this was worth every second of waiting. You're stunning. Just perfect.

“Thank you, David,” you say softly, touched by his compliments. It’s sweet, but if he keeps this up, you’ll be feeling more affectionate than horny.

You have no idea how much I want to be the one touching you right now.

That's better.

"Oh, but I think I know exactly what it's like to want you to be the one touching me. Do you have any idea how much I've fantasized about your hands on me since you sent me that picture? God, if I hadn't been at work, I would have made myself come so many times."

That's why I didn't want you distracted.

"I wasn't distracted this afternoon," you say in a husky voice.

No you weren't. 

Did it feel good to finally give in?

"Yes." You bite your lip as you remember the way that growing tension in your belly finally gave when you moaned his name. "It felt so good to respond to you."

Did you think about me touching you like you wanted?

"God, yes. In every way I could think of."

Where did you imagine me touching you? Show me where you like to be touched.

You run a finger from your jaw, down the column of your neck, and then trace along your collarbone. "If you kiss me here, I'll be weak in your arms. But if I feel your tongue here, you'll have me begging."

Then I'll have you weak and begging.

Is that all?

"I was getting there." You smile playfully. “So impatient.”

You continue to run your fingers down your sternum, letting your knuckles skim against the swell of your breasts. You stop and move to cup the soft flesh with your hands.

“I want your lips and your hands here,” you moan as you start to gently massage yourself. Your nipples harden under your palms as you rub over them, causing a pleasant shiver to snake its way through you. Then you arch into your own hands as you think about what it would be like to have his hands here instead. Whether his touch would be gentle like this, or harsh as he wrenches a shudder from the sensitive peaks.

I'm going to enjoy doing just that. Especially if you'll be this responsive for me.

“More so,” you vow, breathlessly, "because it would be you. Are you touching yourself now?"

Yes.

“Fuck,” you hiss. "Are you imagining that it's me instead?"

You know I am.

"Good because I want it to be me. I'm aching to put my hands on you, too.” Your hands lower from your breasts to brush across your stomach. “Where do you like to be touched, David?"

By you? There's nowhere I wouldn't want your hands.

Intriguing, but you know he can give you more than that. "Then where should I start?"

There’s a brief pause that almost feels like hesitation.

My face.

"Your face?” You blink in mild surprise. You weren't expecting that answer, but now you understand the hesitation. He was preparing to admit something vulnerable to you. “That's very intimate."

Is it? Maybe that's why I've never liked it before, but I think I will if you do it.

Despite how sexy all of this is, your heart flutters at the sweetness of that line. He wants intimacy with you, not just the sex. You're reminded of what he said to you yesterday: ‘I want you to be mine in every way it's possible to want someone.’

“I like the thought of that.” You lean in towards the camera, letting your eyelids go heavy as you lower your voice to something both seductive and tender. "Do you want me to cup your cheeks and stroke my fingers over you as we kiss?"

Yes.

"Then maybe I could…” You drop to a half whisper, “kiss along your jaw as well."

It's like you read my mind.

There's a pleased flush in your chest that creeps onto your face as the hint of a smile. "Do you have facial hair?"

No.

"Good to know." You imagine your lips moving over smooth, tanned skin. You wonder if it will be soft, or a little rough with age.

Do you prefer beards?

"I don't have a preference. What looks good depends on the person." You tilt your head curiously. “Have you ever tried growing a beard?”

Once. It didn't suit me.

“Then I'd prefer you without one.”

You're assembling these new, small pieces together with your existing mental image of him. It's like staring at a magic eye puzzle—if you look hard enough, you can almost swear you see the shape of him. But then you blink and it's gone.

You need more.

“Where would I touch you next?”

My chest.

"Is that so?"

Yes.

"Please tell me you don't shave your chest, too. Promise me you have chest hair."

I promise I have chest hair.

"Oh, thank god,” you sigh with relief. “Because you have hair on the backs of your hands and wrists and it's so fucking sexy. I can only imagine how sexy the rest of it is."

You like that, do you?

“Yes.”

Then I think you’ll be pleased.

"Christ, I like the sound of that.” You squirm a bit in your seat. “Where else do you like to be touched?"

My cock.

You nearly choke on a whimper. 

Up till now, this felt like an exploration—or as much as it could be with only you on the screen. You were expecting a buildup of teasing and touching and sharing before you both truly let go. Instead, he sent you reeling. Again. He must be getting impatient.

As you stare at that line, there's a painful ache of arousal between your legs. You unconsciously grind yourself down onto your chair to alleviate some of it. The seat is going to be a mess by the time you're done, you think.

"I plan to touch you there a lot."

Yes you will.

"Are you circumcised?" You can't help the curiosity that seeps into your voice.

I'm not going to describe my cock to you.

"David!" You pout at your screen. "I'm not asking for numbers, here. I just want to know what it would be like to stroke you."

And you'll find out eventually.

“That's not fair.” You are completely naked, after all.

I already told you it's not supposed to be fair.

“Yes, yes, you’re very mysterious,” you huff in disappointment.

Like I said, you’ll find out eventually.

“Soon, I hope.”

Soon.

Now I want you to go back to showing me where you want my hands.

“Do you?” You lean back in your chair. “You want more to think about while you're touching yourself?”

That's exactly what I want.

“Hmm, how can I ever say no to that?” Then you lean even further back so you can caress over the curve of your hips. “You can run your hands along here as you feel your way over my body. It will feel lovely, but I'll enjoy it even more if you grab me instead. Because I want to feel how much you need me.”

That's good because I want to grab you by the hips to hold you still as I slam my cock into you.

“Fuck, David!” You cry out. Your hands reflexively grip and squeeze your own hips at the mental image, your fingers digging almost painfully into the bone. Your sex clenches in anticipation, hoping you’ll get what he said would come next.

If he was there with you and not still on the other end of the call. God, you wish he was there.

After that, you also know the teasing and buildup has come to an end. You can't hold back any longer, and he's made it very clear that neither can he.

"Do you know where else I liked to be touched?" Before he can reply, you finally tilt your hips and spread your legs wide, exposing your sex for the camera. You settle your knees on either side of the seat of the chair with your calves tucked against the wooden legs.

You like to think, if he were there in person, he would have been opening his mouth to answer as the words died on his lips. Instead, you imagine his fingers frozen over his keyboard as he gets to see the part of you he's been waiting for. You're certain he's been going slow—stroking himself enough for it to feel good, but not so much that he loses control. Not until he gets what he wants. Not until he's gotten this.

You end the exploration of your body by reaching between your thighs. Then you cup your mound and begin teasing your fingers along your folds. God, you're already so wet. "Right here. Especially by a hand that knows what I need."

Show me what you need.

You plunge a finger into your entrance and moan at the intrusion. You can't remember the last time you did this. Usually you focus on just your clit with your fingers or your vibrator, eager for the release and not caring much about indulging in the process. You didn't have a reason for it other than getting off to relieve some tension.

Now, as you slide your finger out and draw it over that sensitive nub, you want it back inside of you. You want to be full as you think of him. So you press two inside of you instead.

"I want to know what you look like so badly," you gasp as your fingers begin to work your cunt.

Do you?

"I do. And I want to know what you feel like."

You will, that I promise you.

"God," you whine and slip a third finger into your opening. "This feels so good. I haven't fingered myself in a while."

Why not?

"I haven't wanted to. I just wanted a quick orgasm."

Then I continue to keep my promise, don't I? I made you want to.

"Yes! Christ, I want to," you gasp and rock your hips up to meet your hand. "I want to touch myself like this for you. I love knowing that you're watching me, David, and that you're getting off to it. But more than that, I love pretending that it's you."

If you're pretending that it's me, you need to go deeper because I intend to fuck you properly.

You slam your fingers into yourself as far as they will go, and your head falls back with a cry. “God, I want you to fuck me. Please!”

While I grab your pretty hips and make you take every bit of me?

“Fuck! Yes, exactly like that!” You whine. “I can't believe you're going to make us wait for this! Because you don't have to. You could have me now."

I could.

I could have you however I wanted, couldn't I?

You glance down at the camera, your eyes heavy with lust. "Would you like that?"

You're not answering the question.

"That's because I know better than to say yes," you pant. Your fingers are still working inside of you, stretching you in a way that is both satisfying and not nearly enough. It's driving you crazy.

What does that mean?

"We both know that if I bare my throat to you, you won't be able to resist ripping it out."

I would never hurt you unless you wanted it.

"I believe that you would never want to, but I see you, too. You couldn't help it.” Your hand slows, and you tilt your head as you consider your computer screen. “Could you?"

There's a moment of stillness from the chat box, and you briefly wonder if you've upset him, even though you know you're right. You know there's something about him that’s dangerous and predatory. He admitted as much himself. And it’s not like you feel the need to be overly careful or afraid of him. The thought doesn't bother you. You simply know that you can never tempt him by actually offering yourself up as helpless prey. Or he might just get a taste for it. 

Because you can love a predator as long as you never forget, for even a second, that it's still a predator—no matter how much it shows you its belly and loves you back.

You know all of that. Instinctively. Logically.

And yet.

You do so love being his favorite little prey.

"It doesn't scare me, David," you say quietly to break the silence.

No?

"No. Quite the opposite." You draw your fingers out of yourself to rub over your clit with a moan. "It intrigues me."

I know it does.

Why do you think I’ve done all of this? I knew, from the moment I saw you, that you could want what I am.

“And what are you, David?”

Darling, did you really think I would answer that question? Where's the fun in that?

“But I want to know.” Your fingers speed back up against your bundle of nerves. “I want to know everything about you.”

You will.

“And I want to know every secret you keep from the rest of the world.”

Don't worry, you’ll know me completely.

Eventually.

His words feel like a promise and a threat. You shiver with pleasure.

You shift down far enough in your chair to get a better angle. Then you bring your knees up and plant your feet wide against the edge of your desk. You know this has the added bonus of giving him an even better view of your opening. It also gives him a hint of what it might look like when you finally lay back and spread your legs for him.

"Can you see how wet I am?" You drag your fingers over your clit with a gasp. “Can you see how much I want you?”

Yes. I can see exactly how eager you are.

"Good. As you're stroking yourself, I want you to think about burying your cock right here.” You move your other hand between your thighs. Without hesitation, you plunge your fingers into your entrance again. Now you’re pleasuring your clit while also getting that enticing fullness you ache for, and it feels fucking incredible. The sight of both of your hands moving on your screen only adds to the indulgence.

As if I could think about anything else.

"I wish I was watching you right now instead of myself."

You want to watch me stroke my cock to you?

Your whole body shudders, and you bite your lip to stifle a whimper. "Yes! I want to watch the way your hand slides over your cock and how it throbs and twitches in your fist. I want to see what I do to you."

What you do to me…

You drive me insane. I've never needed to fuck someone like I need to fuck you.

"Jesus!" You wail as your hips jerk forward, and your knees start to shake. “David!”

That's right. I'm going to make you sob my name.

"If you keep talking like that, I'm not going to last long,” you pant.

Good. I want to see you let go for me.

“But I want you to enjoy this!”

You think I'm not enjoying this?

I finally got to see how responsive you are to my words and hear the sounds you make when you're like this. This is everything I wanted. Better, even. Now I can't imagine how much better it will be in person.

When you're full of my cock instead of your fingers.

“Fuck!” You’re driving those fingers in and out of your cunt with purpose now. You're no longer giving him a show. This is you feeling your orgasm closing in on you and scrambling for it, desperate and needy.

Fuck, that's good. Look at you. You're so god-damned beautiful as you fuck yourself for me.

"God, yes!" You gasp as you arch in your chair. "For you."

Only me. Only I can see you like this.

Say it.

"Only you, David."

That's my girl.

Now you're going to come for me.

“I'm so close,” you whine.

And I'm going to come as I imagine your tight little cunt.

“David,” you gasp, barely able to speak now through your ragged breathing. “Please.”

It's all I've been able to think about for months. It's going to feel so fucking good to finally get to fuck you and come with my cock buried inside of you. And I'm going to do it over and over again until I physically can't anymore.

Do you understand? I NEED you. Fuck!

“Yes,” you barely whisper. You're not even sure the microphone picked it up, but you have nothing more to give. The tension building inside of you is becoming nearly suffocating as you read every word. You feel you might drown in it before you ever find release.

As you continue seeking your own satisfaction, a photo pops up in the chat.

At the top of the photo, there’s the edge of a laptop keyboard, which is sat on top of a very ornate and expensive looking wooden desk. But that's not the point of the photo. No. That's not what strangles your breath in your throat or sets a flame in your chest that licks at your cheeks.

The polished surface of the desk is streaked and splattered with come. His come.

You imagine him standing in front of his computer, urgently stroking himself until he's shuddering out his orgasm and spending himself across the surface. All while his eyes never leave you on the screen.

You made him do that.

Your hand speeds up—the circles your fingers are rubbing over your clit are becoming almost brutal and painful, even as pleasure rakes up your belly and your whole body starts to tense. You're so close. So fucking close. You didn't know it was possible to balance on that edge for so long without falling in either direction.

You can't tear your eyes away from that ruined surface or get the thought of him fucking his own fist out of your head as you keep chasing oblivion and—

This is what you do to me.

Oh.

You bury your fingers into your cunt just as your walls clench down around them, and you come undone for the second time that day. To him.

You open your mouth to cry out, to wail his name as part of your release, but it gets choked to nothing more than a thought as your climax slams into you so hard that it knocks the wind out of you. You throw your head back from the force of it. As you try to ride each pulse of ecstasy out against your fingers, the muscles in your legs tense. Then you're involuntarily pushing against your desk with your feet.

The front two legs of the chair lift off the floor.

For a brief moment, your stomach lurches and you think you're going to topple backwards. Instead, you stay like that, hovering between stability and free fall, letting a wave of fear and adrenaline wash over you. Perhaps that should have ruined this, but the additional sensations only heighten and sharpen every breathless shudder until all of your nerve endings thrum. You’ve never felt so painfully, blissfully, alive.

Once you're fully spent, you carefully let the chair fall forward, returning to its proper position on all four legs. Then you bring one of your own legs down to plant a foot onto the carpet to ground yourself and stop that feeling of weightlessness still lingering within you.

God, you're stunning. The most exquisite thing I've ever seen. You were wonderful for me.

You sit there, bonelessly draped back in your seat, sweaty, your arms hanging at your sides, with your chest heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. And you try to smile for him anyway because, between his praise and your orgasm, you swear you’re glowing.

But you didn't scream my name.

You let out a breathless sound of protest. “Couldn't. I tried. Seeing what I do to you…it was too good, holy shit." You swallow hard and shift forward into a more comfortable position in the chair. "But I thought it, David. You were the only thing I knew while I came for you."

Mmmm, that's very good. But you're still going to do better next time. I’ll make sure of it.

"With you?" You ask hopefully.

With me.

FOR me.

Your face burns, and there's a weak twinge of arousal between your legs. Even though it's a mere shadow of what you’ve already experienced today, you’re amazed it's even possible after that.

…You still don't even know what he looks like, you think.

God, he's dangerous.

Won't you?

"Yes," you moan. "I promise I will scream your name until my voice gives out, as long as you're the one coaxing it out of me."

Yes you will.

You whimper. "When?"

Soon.

There are some things I need to take care of first. Then I will send for you.

Your heart begins to pound with nerves and anticipation. This is really happening. "How long?"

Only a few days.

A grunt of shock is ripped from your throat. "Days?!"

Now who's eager?

"I can't help it," you purr, softening at his teasing as you run your hand along your still trembling inner thigh. "I want to see you. And I want you inside of me."

You'll have that.

I'LL have that.

"How many days?" You're almost afraid to ask.

I'll have a car pick you up Monday evening.

There's a heavy drop of disappointment in your stomach. "That's three days…" 

Enough time to have all of my obligations done and taken care of. I want to be able to focus entirely on you once I have you. Like you deserve.

“But that's so long!” It's taking everything in you not to pout. You realize now you’ve been interpreting “soon” to mean you might finally get to see him, say, tomorrow. Or maybe even still tonight. It never occurred to you that it might be longer and that you’d have to wait for him.

I know, darling. I don't like it anymore than you do. And I would never make you wait if it wasn't important, but I have promises to keep.

“Alright,” you sigh. You find that you're, once again, reminding yourself that you're an adult. You can be patient.

And now that you're thinking about it, this gives you plenty of time to prepare as well. You don't have promises to keep, but you can certainly think of a few appointments you should make. When the time comes, you want everything to be perfect.

Besides, after that you’ll never have to wait again. Will you?

“No, David.” You lean forward as you stare into the camera. “Once I have you, I intend to never wait again. Because once I have you, you’re mine.”

That's my girl.

Later that night, when you go to sleep, you take your laptop with you and leave it open on your dresser, facing the bed. On your side table, you prop your phone up into its charging stand and make sure it's positioned just right as well. You want to give him two angles to enjoy this time. Then you sprawl out on top of your covers, still completely naked.

On your phone, you carefully type out, “I hope you didn't think the show was over. Because I still have more I can give you, and it would be such a shame to waste it. Enjoy, David. X”

As you hit send, you reach into the top drawer of your nightstand and pull out your vibrator. Then you settle back, and—with a desire that feels nearly insatiable now—you work several more orgasms from your clit while you gasp and moan and scream his name.

All while you know he's watching.

A/N: See? Who needs therapy when you have fanfiction?? 😌 (Christine please ignore the 🚩💕) I debated about whether or not to write a phone call with her mom, but I realized I don't actually want to give her a voice. Because this story isn't about her or even the reader's past. It's about healing from trauma, moving forward as the worst version of yourself, and falling in fucked up love with a stalker/serial killer. 😌

[howtodisappearcompletelyand]

20/10 stars little guy