#penis irritation

[kitom-kortil]

im sorry but i cant be the only one who gets really mad when AMAB enby/trans rep gets turned into afab

[raviniaraven]

I've seen this a few times and I gotta say that it seems less like an issue with AI art and more an issue with quality control in publishing. There was probably a whole team of real humans paid to look at and approve that image, and those people weren't doing their job. The person saying authors, editors, and everyone else is to blame is right bc the problem isn't that "they were lazy and used AI art", the problem is "they didn't do the basic check to make sure something obviously, comically wrong hadn't gotten through". There's probably a lot of other scientific diagrams that were initially created with AI but then were checked for inaccuracies and problems, which were then fixed by a graphic artist using something like Photoshop. These people were lazy and the AI tech they used is taking the blame.

A tool was used badly and it's being used as an example of how the tool isn't useful, instead of an example of how proofreading isn't being done properly in professional publishing, and it's really frustrating since my whole Graphic Design degree was years of learning "maybe you can draw that, but if you can't draw that here's a software that still lets you make that if you know how to use it"

i don’t know if this blowing up anywhere besides science twitter but a paper got peer reviewed and published in a frontiers journal (which are known as like mid tier but still reputable) that has this massive AI generated rat penis figure and some other nonsensical AI figures and yeah it probably speaks to how the peer review system is broken and the process of sharing and vetting science is doomed etc but also it’s SOOOO funny to me to see people so dramatic like “if someone had a shred of courage and integrity” about big penis rat

[naturenaruto]

YOU KNOW WHATS AMAZING is that that parents against under-18 trans surgery are like 'it irrevocably changes their bodies forever' as if they dont pierce their baby girls ears which leaves a hole forever! and causes unnecessary severe pain (which can last and continue because babies can pull on their ears or it gets caught in clothing while being changed or /bathed/picked up etc) and its all for what now........

gender presentation

like the ONLY reason they do that is to overtly display and force people to recognize that this infant is a GIRL INFANT and ppl just Absolutely Have To Know That Because It Matters Just So Fucking Much that theyre willing to cause physical pain to an INFANT just to add an unnecessary accesory to make a fucking damn b a b y look cute

like why cant u just stick a fuckin bow on it ohmygod like why do u have to pierce a BABYS skin so that ur superficial ass can let everyone know this baby has a VAGINA

because random ppl just neeeeed to know that right??????

why cant u just stick a bow on their 1cm hair or put a pink onesie on them instead of a blue onesie like.....

why did u consciously choose to cause an actual literal infant pain and suffering and continued irritation all because you wanted to permantly alter their body to acessorize them based on gender presentation........

?????????????????????????????????????

i did not, in fact, co-sign or give consent to them piercing my ears as a dang baby like i know pierced ears is such a miniscule thing to get worked up over BUT lmao its still just like why do these people care so much about Properly Displaying Their Childs Gender when it comes at the expense.....of the child.....like its not like a 7 year old asking because she WANTS pierced ears its like....they didnt even ask me lmao....if they had i wouldve been like uhh,,,,googoogaga?!

like i was Not Consulted on that so its wild to me how they dont care about some permanent alterations on a childs body as long as its what theyyy want......like u did not ask ur daughter if u could do that u did not ask ur son if u could circumcise him......that is our body.....not urs.......not the parents body.....not the Family Body™️......that is MY body..................................................

but then lo and behold later on when some kid actualy WANTS to do something to their OWN body for their OWN gender presentation wishes.........

then suddenly its all 'ohhhh you cant do all thaaaaaaaat thaaats permanentttttt ahhhhh'

like so the fuck is what u did to me WITHOUT MY CONSENT

and now i actually want to do something with my OWN DANG BODY and its all Nope U Cannot

what the fuck is wrong with these people

[scarletcomalies]

Imagine Natasha, your mom's best friend, who accepted the task of teaching you self-defense classes. However, in just a few sessions, she was also able to tame your arrogant attitude.

Word count: 1,483

Warnings: Theft, mention of knives and guns, brat reader. 18+ content, degrading, restraint, slight bit of dub-con, Nat has a penis, daddy kink, unprotected sex, breeding.

A/N: Not sure how drabbles work, but I was bored at a birthday party, and I felt like writing a little something hehe.

It all started when a thief had taken your handpurse from you and ran away quickly.

You barely felt it being snatched from you, and as you turned around, you realized that the thief was already at a considerable distance, so you opted to simply mutter a curse under your breath and continue on your way.

The thief was going to be disappointed when he sees its contents anyway, and you weren't going to run in heels for lipstick, a crumpled five dollar bill and your student ID.

Although it wasn't a particularly shocking event, your mother, with her tendency toward overprotectiveness, was convinced that this event had irreversibly scarred you. As a result, she decided to ask her best friend, Natasha Romanoff, to teach you self-defense classes.

From the beginning, you made clear your disinterest in attending. You arrived intentionally late for every session, and at the redhead's scoldings, you would simply roll your eyes and dismiss her words with disdain. During training, you often interrupted her instructions with snide remarks, and refused to follow her directions, preferring to improvise moves that lacked technique. There was something magnetic in her determination and in the way her green eyes flashed with frustration that made you purposefully act even more insufferable than usual. You loved to see it.

During lessons, there were times when she would restrain you from behind so that you would repeat the technique she had taught you, and you could feel a bulge in her pants rubbing against your ass. It was such a yearning feeling, that you would pretend to do it all wrong, so that she would make you repeat it, and in that way, prolong the contact.

"Your mom just wants to protect you, you know?" Natasha remarked, once another not-so-successful session was over.

You were so exhausted, you preferred to sit on the floor with your legs crossed rather than even get up to help Natasha put the equipment away.

"Come on," you scoffed from your spot. "The thief barely touched me. He just took my handpurse and left."

"Fortunately," Natasha replied. "Imagine if he'd had a knife, or worse, a gun. Imagine if you had been alone, at night."

She took your silence as if you didn't really care to understand your mother's point of view, but in reality, you were reflecting. She just wanted you to know how to take care of yourself, in case something worse than that happened. And Natasha had been so nice and patient to you.

But before you could respond, she spoke up, "What am I bothering to convince you for? You probably are so selfish, that you'd let someone stab you just to worry your poor mother."

You weren't sure if her words had hurt or offended you, as perhaps you had taken your attitude to such an extreme that you had actually caused her to have a twisted perception of you. It was true that you possessed certain difficult qualities, but you were not evil. Sometimes you simply felt that your mother's overprotection was excessive, and that made you more irritable than usual.

What you said next was the result of not having slept at all the night before, for you had been studying intensely for an exam. Despite all the sleeplessness, you didn't manage to answer it as you expected, leaving many questions blank. All that you had accumulated, added to her hurtful words, led you to say the following...

"And you probably have a tiny dick," you snapped. "And maybe that's why you're bitter and miserable, because no one wants you."

Natasha was silent for a moment, too peacefully that it was scary, but her intense, darkened eyes were the only thing that allowed you to realize that she was indeed impacted by your words.

"Dare to say that again?" She challenged you, the tension in the atmosphere becoming more palpable every second.

"No one wants a woman with a small dick," you crossed your arms over your chest, arching your eyebrow in that defiant manner she was already more than sick of.

Natasha began to laugh, but it wasn't the sarcastic kind of laugh, no, it was one that was beginning to terrify you and hindering your ability to maintain your composure.

Natasha approached you with firm steps, her commanding presence filling the space between you both. She was so close that you could watch her green orbes, deep and piercing, burning with such intensity that you felt that at any moment, she was going to set the whole room on fire.

She simply pulled down her pants and boxers at the same time, at the level of her thighs, and seeing the massive size of her member, made you swallow your words.

"Is this a small dick for you?" She asked, seemingly satisfied at your shocked expression.

And as if the situation wasn't humiliating enough, Natasha used a quick and precise maneuver, where she grabbed your shoulders and, in an instant, had you face down on the floor. She proceeded to restrain your wrists against the small of your back, and by straddling the back of your legs, she prevented any movement from them as well.

"Come on, defend yourself like I taught you," she groaned, pressing you harder against the cold floor.

You tried to free yourself from her grip, but every move you made only brought you more pain, because Natasha, with her keen perception, detected every attempt to escape and prevented it with ease, adjusting her grip to make you feel even more trapped.

The whimpers you emanated were so delightful to her ears, making her cock grow more erect. She didn't know who was suffering the most, whether she for not filling your bratty hole right there, or you, who were being physically and verbally degraded.

"That's what I thought," she chuckled, grabbing the shaft of her cock and smacking it softly against your covered ass.

With one hand, albeit clumsily, she managed to pull down your pants and panties just like she did a few moments ago, and released your wrists so that, with her two hands, she held your waist and positioned you on all fours so firmly that you felt as if you had no control over your own body.

"Don't think I haven't noticed how you pretend to be dumber than you are, just to feel my cock against you," she remarked. Obviously, she was able to understand the workings of incredibly complex, criminal and dangerous minds, how could she not detect yours? A clueless, spoiled, college student. "You probably said that just so you could see it, hm? So desperate for Daddy's cock."

But it was very double standards on her part, calling you desperate when she always ended up in the training facility bathrooms after you left, grunting your name between longing gasps as she pleasured herself.

She ran the tip over your awaiting hole, but as she noticed how it contracted in anticipation, almost imploring to be filled, the last ounce of reason left her body, letting her full length inside you. And better than she had imagined, your warm, wet pussy welcomed her deliciously.

In unison, you let out a prolongued moan of pleasure, both of you mitigating that unspoken desire that had become so unbearable.

Her movements began slow and safe, intending to feel for as long as possible how tight you felt around her, and to hear those low moans you vocalized every time she entered and exited you, complemented by the sloshing sound your hole made in consequence.

But that same action was what provoked her breath to quicken, and along with it, her rythm. Her hips were working overtime to match her cock's desperate needs, but it was impossible when said needs increased every passing second with the way you were whimpering, now high pitched and more frequent.

"Can a small dick fill your hole this good, hm?" She groaned, tilting her head back as she felt her climax approaching.

"No! No!" You cried out, and just like her, you could feel it coming. Your head was growing fuzzy for the pleasure altering every fiber of your being, like the most powerful drug ever made. "I'm sorry, Daddy! I lied! I love your big, fat cock! Please!"

She swore to herself that she was going to be strong and proud enough to stop when you admitted it, having already achieved her goal, but your words made her cum involuntarily erupt inside of you.

That sensation of being completely filled with her seed made your orgasm follow hers a little later, yours and her release leaving her cock shiny and dripping with your mixed juices.

Natasha was aware that even the most intense masturbation would not match how wonderfully your pussy embraced her cock, and how mesmerizing was the sight of your ass bouncing whenever your bodies clashed together.

Imagination was not going to overcome reality, in this case.

So she preferred, just this once, not to be frustrated by her loss of control.

[rrrrinmaru]

calculated risk (but boy am i bad at math) (sylus x mc) (nsfw) pt 3 - finale

wc: 2.2k rating: E warnings: NSFW content, dirty talk, pussy eating, vaginal fingering, thigh fucking (intercrural), orgasm denial, penis in vagina sex, dom!sylus sub!mc, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, use of Evol, light choking, mating press, doggy, full nelson, creampie brief: you lose a bet to sylus and you have to do whatever he wants for 24 hours // recommended to read part 1 here and part 2 here for context

It feels like years. Sylus wakes you up with a mouth on your cunt, licking wetly at your pussy and sucking your clit into his mouth, eyes glittering with smugness as he stares up at you from between your thighs. He moves back the moment you arch your back, fingers winding into his hair in a weak attempt to hold him in place—he doesn’t let you cum.

In the shower, he slides his cock between your soaped up thighs and fucks you like that, the head of his cock slamming into your swollen clit with every swing of his hips. You’re gasping, hands scrabbling for purchase on the tiles while he brings the showerhead down to spray at your clit. Sylus’s other hand is squeezing your tit, fingers pulling sharply at your nipple and making you cry out. You’re close, fuck, you’re close. 

At the dining table, you’re on his lap. His cock is trapped under your panties, sitting against your wet cunt like a pulsing rod of heat. It slides against the seam of your pussy every time he leans forward to scoop something off the plate. Sylus feeds you, laughing lowly when you can barely stomach more than a few mouthfuls. You’re more focused on other things, like the heat coiling in your gut like a snake about to lunge at its prey. The lips of your cunt are spread around his cock, your hole clenching desperately against the base of his cock. 

Again, and again, Sylus brings you to the brink. He holds you there, like he has a hand on your throat, choking the orgasm off right at the tip. He keeps you right on edge, until your body is so overworked and so sensitive that even a brush of his shoulder against yours is enough to make you jump, pussy tightening at the slightest touch no matter how much you try to remind yourself that Sylus won’t let you cum. 

It makes you irritable. You want the high, the suffocating heat of something buried in your sweet cunt, something thick for your pussy to grip onto as you shudder through your orgasm, but Sylus dangles it just out of reach. You end up glaring at him more often than not, turning away to huff at the mere sight of him. 

But Sylus just laughs, one hand reaching out to reel you in, and proceeds to make you lose your mind before letting you go. 

“Sy–lus,” you choke out, fingers clutching weakly at the bedsheets. The fabric is completely crumpled beneath your grip and the pillow below your abdomen is soaked with sweat. Your legs feel numb, knees bent with your ass up as Sylus fucks into you with four fingers. He sets a harsh pace, licking at your clit as he slams his fingers into your cunt, hitting your g-spot with devastating accuracy. 

You’re going to tip over the edge. His tongue laps at your clit, lips closing around the swollen bud to suck on it harshly with a particularly vicious thrust of his fingers—it forces you up along the bed, hips jerking back to sit on his fingers before jolting away, as if your body can’t decide whether it wants to chase that pleasure or escape from it. 

“G’na cum,” you pant, barely getting the words out with how breathless you are. It’s a warning in every sense of the word—you think you might actually kill him if he stops halfway, but at the same time, something deep inside you wants to let him know you’re close. To let him know that if he’s going to stop, he needs to stop now or your mind will go blank from the way he’s sucking on your clit. 

Sylus gives one last kiss to your clit, teeth scraping briefly against the oversensitive nub before pulling away. It makes you yelp, the pleasure bordering on pain, but it’s so good, so fucking good that you can’t help but push your hips back in a bid to chase after his mouth. 

“Can’t have that happen, sweetie. Not yet,” he murmurs. But his fingers are still going, crooking inside your cunt and making you clench up every time they scrape against your walls. He’s fucking you like he intends to make you gush, like he’s ready to watch your slick drip out of your pussy, down his wrist, all the way to his forearm. Those clever fingers are punishing, demanding as they fuck into you, and your eyes roll into the back of your head when your pussy trembles once, twice—

Sylus withdraws his fingers in a flash. Your cunt clenches on nothing, hips squirming as you try to cling to his fingers even as he draws them out of you. There’s a loud, wailing sound in the room, and it takes you a good few seconds to realise it’s coming from your mouth. You’re sobbing, face buried in the sheets, gasping for your life at the orgasm that was ripped from your fingertips. 

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that he gets to tease you like this, to bring you to the edge so many times and leave you wanting—it’s not fair that he gets to play your body like a fiddle, making you sore and achy and so desperate for cock that you barely recognise your face in the mirror. It’s not fucking fair—

“Easy, dollface,” Sylus laughs, one hand scruffing you on the back of your neck, fingers and thumb wrapping around your throat like a necklace. “Open up.”

And he slides in, home, all the way until his cockhead pushes against the opening of your cervix. The slide is wet from how soaked you are, and you’re tight despite how he fingered you for what felt like hours. His cock sinks into you, and you distantly hear the low groan he lets out as he fucks in, in, in until his hips slam against your ass and he just stays there for a moment, luxuriating in the feel of your throbbing cunt closing around his dick. 

You don’t make a sound. Your mouth is open, chest tight as your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your limbs twitch, back arching as your hips move of their own accord, spasming around Sylus’ fat cock. It burns, like a fire eating you alive from the inside, so explosive it hurts. 

You cum from the feeling of his cock fully buried in your cunt, pussy gushing wetly and soaking the sheets. You shake apart, senses dulled as your entire world shrinks down to your cunt, your twitching clit, your pussy clinging desperately to the stiff cock inside you, stuffing you full. 

“Good girl,” Sylus says breathlessly from above you, fingers tightening around your throat. “I told you I’d make it good.”

The sound you make is indescribable. Sylus lets you ride it out on his cock, groaning whenever your cunt pulsates around his length. Right when your body is about to relax, to come down from it’s high, Sylus pulls out and slams back into you.

You shriek, entire body jolting from the electrifying burst of overstimulation that flashes white-hot through your body. 

Sylus doesn’t let up. He fucks you hard and dirty, like he’s putting all the pent-up energy from not being in your pussy for the past twenty-four hours to good use. He fucks like he’s desperate to bury himself in your cunt, to carve out a space for his cock that your pussy will remember for centuries even when he’s not inside you. 

The punishing pace shocks you right into your next orgasm. The pleasure never stops, just builds and builds until you’re pushed off the edge again, falling right into the throes of your second orgasm. 

“S-Sylus!” You cry out, voice hoarse from overuse. “Please, please—”

“I’ve got you,” Sylus growls. His voice is low, tight from exertion, but his hips don’t stop moving. His cock saws into you, the cockhead hitting your cervix and scrapping against your g-spot with such devastating accuracy that you can’t help how loud you get when you cum again, pussy squirting furiously around the hard cock inside you. “Again, sweetie.”

“C-can’t,” you gasp, desperately sucking in mouthfuls of air despite the grip on your neck. Sylus’s other hand is on your hip, holding you firmly in place as he fucks into your cunt, and you can hear him chuckle at the way your pussy drips slick. 

“What a messy girl,” he croons, slamming his cock deep into your pussy. It makes you shiver, overstimulation mixing with pleasure as it crawls all over your body, setting your nerve-endings aflame. “One more time.”

You exhale, body spasming as it obeys him. Your pussy clenches around him so tightly it makes him groan, and you feel like you’re coming apart at the seams when you cum again. 

This time, he fucks you slower, really letting you shake and shiver through the aftershocks of this orgasm. You’re a quiet, whining mess when he flips you over, cock still buried inside you, and you can barely force your eyes open to look him in the eye. 

“Cute,” he remarks, eyes glinting in the light as he reaches up to press a thumb against your parted lips. “Are you satisfied?”

You lie there, chest heaving as you try to gather your wits about yourself. Your cunt clenches weakly around his cock, clinging to the heat radiating off his length. If you could muster up the strength, you would maybe lift your legs in the air so he can get a better angle to fuck you with. 

But you don’t have the energy. You’re tired, vision blurry from sweat and tears, and you think you might need a few days to recover from this entire ordeal.

Sylus gives you a knowing look. His gaze rakes across your spread-out body, combing across every inch of you, and his gaze is so hungry that it makes you shiver and tighten up on his cock. 

He leans down, head dipping to position himself right at your ear. His hair brushes against your cheek and his breath blows against your neck. It’s too much. It’s not enough. You want to reach up and claw at his back but you don’t have the energy.

“I’m not satisfied,” Sylus whispers into your ear. His tongue darts out, tracing a wet trail along the shell of your ear. “I think you can give me a few more orgasms, sweetie.”

“Too—nngh, too much,” you breathe, voice stuttering when he rocks his hips into yours. “S-Sylus, I don’t—”

“You can,” he asserts, hands wandering down to grip you tightly by your hips. “Three more, and then I’ll kiss your pretty pink pussy until you soak my face. How about it?”

You moan, eyes fluttering shut at the mere thought of it. If Sylus says three more, he isn’t joking. He’ll fuck those orgasms out of you, whether you want to or not, and he’ll wring the pleasure out of your body until you’re a breathless, panting, limp body. Until your cunt aches and you can’t walk straight for a week.

Before you can answer, something pulls your legs up. Heat circles around your ankles, yanking your legs up and to your sides, knees coming to rest at your shoulders. Sylus pulls back just enough to hook the inside of his elbows around your knees, and he smirks down at you as he grinds into your cunt.

The slide is wet. So wet it’s absurd, so wet you can hear the squelching sounds from your dripping pussy. 

“Count for me,” Sylus murmurs, one eye shining a brilliant crimson. “I want to hear you scream my name.” 

He fucks you, over and over again, using his Evol to manhandle your body into different positions until you’re begging for mercy. You cum when he cums, at the hot sensation of his cum spilling into you, painting your insides white. You cum again when he holds you up, bouncing you on his cock with your tits pressed up against the window, clit rubbing against the glass, vision blurry as you look out onto the N109 zone. You cum one more time, slick dripping uselessly from your throbbing cunt when he fucks you while you’re on your side, one leg lifted into the air, his hand on your clit, the other hand groping your tit. 

Then he makes good on his promise, energy circling your ankles like cuffs as he holds your legs over your body, folding you in half so he can grip your ass and pull your cunt apart for him to lick into.

When you cum again, you think it’s a dry orgasm. Your pussy clenches and throbs, your clit pulsating weakly, but you don’t know if you produce any more slick or if your cunt is just filled with his spit and cum. You feel wrecked.

He mouths at your clit, carefully licking with the tip of his tongue while you shudder in his hands. When you come down from the orgasm, he pulls your legs back down and your body finally eases into the sheets. 

“Easy, sweetie,” Sylus repeats, but this time there’s a softness to his tone. His hands on you are gentle, tucking you into his chest as he lifts you from the bed. “I’ve got you.”

And despite all his sharp edges, all the snark, all the challenging—you think he does.

==

© rrrrinmaru 2024 | no unauthorised publication or reproduction allowed

[teratosfavouritesnack]

When you decided to purchase one of the latest models of Jack of all Trades, you had no clue how much your life would change... for the better!

As the name suggests, this robot assistant possesses all of the necessary skills to maintain a home clean and safe. You don't have to worry about sweeping the floor, doing the laundry, or cooking when you have no energy for it. Intruders, gas leaks, and power outages are no longer a concern. Your house never looked neater or felt more secure, and your back has never been more grateful.

You had no idea how far his talents would extend, though. Not until one day the robot came to your bedroom and scanned your body - you could tell by the way the circle in its glassy eyes dilated and narrowed like the lens of a camera. Then it stated "Mx, your levels of oxytocin are dropping. Let me be of assistance." You tried convincing him you were alright, but the robot persisted that an oxytocin deficiency could lead to depression, irritability, aggressiveness, anxiety, cardiovascular issues... and so you indulged it, even if only to end the awful litany.

"I can offer sexual intercourse, a therapeutic massage, a session of meditation or aromatherapy-"

"Wait. What? Sexual intercourse?

The robot delivered an affirmative beep before lowering its belly plate. An appendage emerged in the shape of a human penis, though it was wrapped in silicone and resembled a luxurious sex toy. You were so shocked that your mouth opened and closed, unable to utter a word. The heat pooling between your legs however was undeniable, hard to ignore even for the robot. You saw its eyes examine you again. "Your heartbeat has accelerated and your body heat has risen."

Taking those details as an indication that this was exactly what you needed, it moved closer to you. With automated movements, it so effortlessly pulled you to the edge of the bed and removed your bottom clothes. You were so baffled by what was happening that you could only stare in awe at the robot as its metal hands wrapped around your thighs and pried them open. The precise and curt roll of its hips as it slid its appendage inside you made you gasp out loud. You could feel the synthetic dick change size inside your walls, moulding to your cunt and filling every crevice of your channel before it started moving back and forth.

You thought you couldn't be any more shocked than this, but when the synthetic cock started buzzing, making your whole body shake, you completely lost it. The fact that his fingers started vibrating when the robot pressed them onto your swollen clit, intensified your climax tenfold as it crashed upon you, sending your body spasming violently and arching against its cool metal plates.

It remained still, keeping its appendage inside you until your tremors subsided. Then it checked your vitals again and seemingly satisfied by the results, it pulled out of you. It meticulously cleaned you with the same efficiency it employs in wiping every inch of your house clean, then stopped to gaze at your astonished face.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Mx?"

"N-No... Thank you."

So, with a cheerful beep, it walked out of your room, leaving you laying half-naked on your bed, speechless and with your mind spinning.

🪷. You can leave a tip on ko-fi if you want to support me <3

[narcissistshandler]

giving miguel head while he explains complicated concepts of the multiverse. 😳 at first he chuckles when reader requests this, but he starts to struggle and lose track of what he was talking about. his voice becomes more desperate as he tries to explain all this stuff he knows to reader with his talons gripping at his love’s skull and his voice shaking and melting into pretty breathy moans until he can’t think of what he was talking about and instead fucks reader’s throat til he’s an overstimulated, sobbing mess

𝗧𝗘𝗔𝗖𝗛 𝗠𝗘

✧ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 gn!reader x miguel o'hara

✧ 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 blowjob (reader giving), deep throat, slight overstimulation at the end, reader has no gender or genitalia mentioned, a little of blood

✧ 𝖠/𝖭 This was in my drafts for two weeks and honestly I don't remember what/how I wrote half of it, but still, this request was delicious

"—Are you listening to me?"

You blinked, seeming to come back to reality and looked into Miguel's judgmental brown eyes.

"I've been speaking Spanish for the last ten minutes," he continued before you had time to speak.

"I am," you insisted. Your first instinct was to lie. The truth was no, you weren't paying the slightest attention to any of all that complicated science and physics coming out of Miguel's mouth, even though from the beginning your focus hadn't left his lips framing every complex and long word, occasionally rising to appreciate that expression of concentration on his usually serious face that shouldn't be so erotic to anyone but you.

Miguel's eyes fell to your lap, as if he could see through the pillow you were holding, his brow immediately frowning in that way that indicated his bad mood.

"So what is the simple concept of what constitutes a Multiverse?" he questioned, sounding so much like a hot, strict teacher that you felt your sex throb in response, too distracted to even try to think of an answer. "What are the ways to overcome the barriers that separate our world from other universes?" Silence. "What happens when there is a divergence in events? Where does the variety of these universes originate?"

You knew the answer to some of these questions as someone who had heard more than enough about this subject: the multiverse was nothing more than the aggregate of parallel realities and bla bla bla. But that wasn't what Miguel wanted to hear, he wanted concise, long and scientifically coherent answers and that's why you preferred to keep your mouth shut.

"You weren't listening," he concluded with a sigh.

"Keep talking, I'll pay attention this time."

Miguel looked into your darkened eyes, noting the warm innuendo in your tone and then once again, his attention fell to the pillow that covered your lap. "You're excited," he observed, then continued seeming disgusted and irritated: "Why? Physics does that to you?"

“You do this to me,” you said. Miguel's expression seemed to become even darker. "You always seem so focused and intelligent while talking about these things I can't understand, it's sexy."

"You were the one who asked me to teach you, I didn't know this was a fantasy of yours," he pointed out.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," you asked soflty as you got up from the sofa where you sat next to Miguel and fell to your knees in front of his feet, your hands running up his bare legs until they slid under the hem of his shorts. "Continue teaching me, please? I promise I'll pay attention this time."

Miguel half growled at you, not seeming too willing to indulge in your fantasies even as his legs opened in pure muscle memory to give you room to fit between them and desire flashed in his eyes.

"How are you supposed to pay attention to what I say with my penis in your mouth? That doesn't seem like a very believable teaching method." Even with you kneeling in front of him on the floor of the apartment's living room, Miguel seemed genuinely concerned about teaching you some real knowledge about multiverse.

You rubbed your hand against the bulge in his shorts to bring him to hardness, laughing a little at how genuine Miguel was sometimes.

"You talk, I listen, then you can test me to see if I really learned something or not."

Miguel opened his mouth, looking ready to retort with some argument, but your fingers fitting into the elastic waistband of his shorts was enough to make him swallow back his words. “Okay,” he agreed finally, lifting his hips off the couch to let you pull his shorts down his legs and discard them on the floor.

"Without underwear?" You inquired teasingly, your fingers closing around Miguel's thick cock that was slowly getting hard for you and pulling him into slow, steady thrusts.

Miguel sighed at the sudden touch, a light blush coloring his cheeks at the teasing.

"Back to the beginning," he started to say, ignoring your words. "When we talk about the Multiverse, this refers to a conception of multiple universes or parallel realities existing simultaneously. Together, these universes are presumed to comprise everything that exists: the entirety of space, time, matter, energy..."

Your tongue trailed in a wet line from the base to the head, interrupting Miguel's speech as he trailed off with a soft sigh.

That usual satisfaction made you smile between the licks you dragged along his length, feeling the pulsation of the bulging veins against your tongue, your fingers keeping his dick firm at the base. Your lips parted, gently sucking the side of the bulbous, red head where drops of precum were beginning to leak.

Miguel let out the most beautiful moan, one of his hands falling into your hair.

“Oh,” he sighed softly, voice already falling into that deep tone that always did things to you. You looked up at the same time you slid your tongue over the slit leaking from his cock; Miguel's eyes met yours, warm and shining. He took a deep breath and continued speaking: "In the concept of multiverse, a scheme is imagined in which... all universes aggregate each other across an infinite vastness..."

He looked so composed even with your mouth on his dick and you wanted to break that composure of his until it became nothing, until his mind stopped working and the only coherent thought he had left was fucking your throat.

Miguel doesn't stop talking when your fingers tighten around his length in a grip that borders on painful and your mouth opens so you can take his length. His cock filled your mouth, the warm, smooth skin sliding over your tongue and inward in a delicious, welcome weight that made your skin tingle. Almost instinctively, you searched for more, leaning forward and taking him deeper, your free hand feeling Miguel's thigh muscles tense under your touch.

Saliva pooled in your mouth and as soon as you pulled your head back, spit slid down his length to his heavy balls and a wet line ran down your chin, a mess you knew Miguel liked. As expected, his breathing stuttered and you saw him losing his train of thought at the sight of your saliva-glossy lips stretching around the thickness of his dick.

"...In addition to the state superpos- superposition property, there are many other phenomena that occur as quantum-scale systems, such as quantum tunneling, quantum e-entanglement..."

The firm fingers tangled in the strands of your hair suddenly became sharper, like thick needles scratching your scalp. The threat of the grab hung in the air, filling your stomach with a tense heat as you realized they were Miguel's deadly talons, which could penetrate through the fragility of your skin in seconds and even an accidental scratch could draw blood. This realization shook you to the core and a moan rose in your throat.

"... So you can connect gravity and the other three forces in an apparently firm way?" he panted, sweat glistening on his forehead. "Dios mío."

It took you a few seconds to understand the jumbled words that came out of his mouth, but when you did you knew that you had achieved your objective, as the argument didn't seem to fit into any part of the multiverse theory.

Tears blocked the corners of your vision, jaw opening wider to take Miguel's cock deeper, the tip slapping against your cheek and tongue before going deeper, and then more and more. The salty taste of precum, sweat, and something else you could only describe as Miguel's taste rising in the back of your throat, clouding all your senses and pushing away the urgency burning between your legs. All that mattered was Miguel.

At that moment, your entire world was just Miguel's body contracting on the couch under the heat of your mouth, the heavy leg he had thrown over your shoulder and his heel digging into your shoulder blade in an attempt to bring you impossibly closer. There was a distinct feeling of discomfort growing in your body, Miguel's grip was strong and painful, his rationality seemed to have dissolved under the pleasure.

"[n-name] [name] [name] [name], por favor." The beautiful moans of your name in his voice echoed through the room in repeated, stammered repetitions.

The gag reflex kicked in, the bulbous head of Miguel's cock pressing past the tightness of your throat. Your eyes closed in an attempt to fight the immediate instinct to choke and suffocate, the desire to give Miguel everything he wanted was stronger. You willingly obeyed the grip of the talons on your head keeping you still, your mouth falling open and easy for the deep thrusts.

Resisting him, the urgency with which his hips undulated, as if he needed the pleasure to breathe, felt equal to having at least one pulled muscle and a deep cut left behind.

Fortunately, fighting him was far from your intention.

You could feel as his dick twitched inside your mouth and the thick, salty liquid filled your throat, which rose and fell as you swallowed. Your eyes opened, tears running down your cheeks, you closed your lips around Miguel's pulsing length, sucking. Miguel's reaction was lascivious, his thrusts becoming erratic, whole body shaking violently, his talons sinking at least a few centimeters into your skin, until it breaks under the pressure.

Hot liquid ran down the back of your neck, the pain was a distant thing in your warm body, your fingers digging into the soft skin of Miguel's thighs as you pressed the nose against the curly hair of his groin. Miguel whimpered as his cock continued to spurt small jets deep down your throat, tears glistening in his eyes and fangs sinking into the lower lip.

You had lied again, you hadn't paid attention to anything he said, but it didn't matter since you doubted that Miguel remembered what even was a subatomic particle now.

[romypearl]

Beneath the Surface - Alpha!Regina George/Omega!Reader

Summary: After the disastrous Christmas performance, Regina needs to take out her frustrations on something, or someone. Her instincts lead her to an omega in heat that she found in the corridors of North Shore and she doesn't mind that it's Y/N.

Classification: Smut, angst

Warnings: Omegaverse/ABO, girl penis (?), explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, language, slight bullying, Regina being a total idiot

Word count: +3600

Unrevised

In the dimly lit parking lot and the wintry cold, Regina sits behind the wheel of the sleek jeep, feeling hotter than ever. Frustration runs through her veins and anger boils her up from the inside out, weeks of preparation thrown away with one false move and suddenly nothing was under her control anymore. A total fiasco. She, the epitome of power, the Alpha of North Shore alphas, simply delivered a disastrous performance and, as much as her reputation gives her some credit, it was too shameful to bear. Anger, irritation and frustration that simply must be released. She had originally planned to call Shane or one of her affairs to relieve the tension, but as she left the stage, the intoxicating smell hit hard and almost knocked her off the small staircase. A breath of summer. Warm, inviting, vulnerable and extremely needy.

As a George and Queen Bee, she had always considered herself to be more than that, unlike ordinary alphas who ran down the corridors in search of an omega to relieve their pheromones. But that's exactly what she did. Walking at a brisk pace to find who owned that addictive scent, which unlike any other before, aroused her immediately. Excitement and horniness overcame all the sensations that were difficult to control, washing away the bitter taste of defeat and humiliation.

She needed that omega. She still fucking needs her. And she doesn't even care that it's Y/N.

One of Burn Book's targets, considered a zero, living in the shadows of high school, without groups or friends. Now revealing herself to be a silent omega, another who hides her nature to avoid the teasing and labeling that comes with being called an outcast.

When she pushed her against the wall outside, immediately recognized the smell, she'd smelled it before, remnants left in every corner of the school that made her crazy and curious. But to feel it up close is different, without the damned suppressants, so strong and bewitching. She can't resist dipping her face against the curve of neck, inhaling the sweet sinful musk. The shorter one is in heat. Ready, no, desperate to be taken. Claimed. Bred.

"Be quiet or they'll catch us." she murmurs, pulling the girl onto her lap, and bites her lip, holding back a moan as she feels the wet intimacy rub against her member "Fuck, you're so fucking hot."

Skillfully, her hands run down the covered figure, searching for the hem of the sweater, then pull the fabric up roughly and impatiently, revealing the provocative curves hidden under so much cloth. Regina leans in and, with a predatory glint in her eye, closes the distance between them in a second, taking her lips in a passionately fierce kiss, tongues meeting in search of dominance. With her heart beating too fast to breathe properly and face as flushed as a tomato, Y/N whimpers. She knows she should be ashamed of herself, being in HER arms, so excited by her touches that she can feel the wetness seeping between thighs and pussy aching in anticipation, the scent of the alpha making her dizzy, almost delirious.

"To think you're hiding under those rags..." the blonde comments, disentangling herself from the abused soft and swollen lips, tracing a path down the neck where she leaves red lipstick marks along with soft hickeys "And who you are." and digs her teeth into the immaculate skin.

Her nails run along Y/N's body with a possessiveness that borders on obsession, there is a trail of primitive scratches, yet it doesn't seem enough, she needs to drink from her so much that can barely think. Taking advantage of their position and her clear physical advantage, she engulfs one of the mounds, almost popping out of the thin tank top, tip of her tongue playing with the nipple stiffened by the cold. The hushed moans she draws from the omega could make her faint, everything is too much, the soft skin against her own body, the smell that consumes her brain, the excitement that permeates the car and all the magnetism that prevents her from turning back. She has to possess her.

"Regina, I..." the younger manages to say in desperate whispers as she tries to cope with the surprising pleasure, also struggling to get rid of the other's clothes, the Christmas costume being annoyingly glued on "I want... I need..."

"I know, princess." she replies simply and pulls her hands away, raising eyebrows in a teasing expression "They can find us, so let's keep as many clothes as possible."

Y/N nods in disappointment and unconsciously rolls onto the queen bee's lap in search of relief, the friction is too much for both of them.

"Do you have a condom?" Regina asks, already pulling up her own skirt to reveal the shape of her cock, panties marking its size and frighteningly large hard thickness.

Y/N denies with wide eyes, after all, she is a virgin and imagined she would be one for a long time.

"Holy shit!" Regina grimaces and sighs heavily.

"Gina, please!" the outcast begs, with an adorable pout and abandoned puppy eyes "I don't care, just come inside me. Fuck me here and now."

Seeing her like this, begging to be fucked and possessed, makes her member throb. She can't stop. She needs to have the girl, no matter if it's with or without protection. It's going to give them what they both want.

"Your wish is my command."

Carefully, Regina tilts the seat and pulls her to herself, their lips meeting once again, this time slowly, almost gently. The alpha recognizes the nervousness through the inexperienced touches and thinks it's a normal reaction to being with who she is, even the meanest betas reacted like this when she fucked them into oblivion. She smiles smugly, bringing one hand to Y/N's face to deepen the kiss and the other to her skirt, wrapping the fabric around waist until she is totally at her mercy, exposed and ready to receive her.

"You're so wet." she whispers, running fingers between the intimacy covered by the lace panties and in a single movement tears the fabric like paper, in pieces "Mine..."

"Yours..." Y/N agrees immediately, sucking on the lower lip "Just yours."

They know it's wrong. God, how wrong it really is. They're on opposite sides of the high school food chain, one the prey and the other the hunter. They are water and oil, wolf and lamb, don't mix. But at this moment nothing matters, when their lips come together and their flesh touches it feels as right and natural as breathing. On any other day Regina, figuratively and literally, would have her teeth around the girl's throat, on this day she leaves traces of passion on the spot, feverish with desire. Heat builds up between them and the alpha positions herself between the legs, feeling the wetness against her thick thigh, staining it with arousal. Her firm hands grip the hips tightly, leaving her fingertips imprinted on the soft skin. Y/N gasps and eagerly tangles fingers in the blonde strands, pulling her closer, wishing she could feel her fully, as if they could become just one.

"You're mine now, understand?" Regina growls, her husky, possessive voice sending shivers down the other's spine, she slides a finger along her wet entrance, eliciting low, pleading moans.

"Yes, I'm yours..." Y/N manages to formulate, eyes closed trying to deal with the pleasure she feels burning deep in her belly. She can't think of anything but being touched, every part of her crying out for more, begging to be filled.

Their minds spin, torn between the rationality that screams at them to stop and the primitive instinct that pushes them to keep doing it, taking over their senses and any sanity.

Y/N holds onto Regina's shoulders, nails digging into skin through the rubbery fabric. The feel of the cock against her naked pussy makes her gasp, then moan loudly as she rubs herself, simply hoping to have it soon, the sound muffled by a hand that quickly covers her mouth.

"Shh... be quiet, remember?" the other murmurs, flashing a lascivious smile "We don't want to get caught, do we?"

Y/N nods frantically, rubbing against the soft body in pure need and begging for some relief. The alpha laughs in disdain and settles down on the bench, positioning herself between the smaller's legs again. Without hesitation, she aligns her rigid member to the slippery entrance and slowly begins to thrust, feeling part of it being swallowed up by the warm, wet and receptive intimacy, exploring every inch as the girl writhes and moans, her hands reaching for the waist, holding it there possessively. Y/N's cry echoes through the car as Regina advances, arching in anticipation, between pain and pleasure, the blonde stops for a moment, giving her time to adjust to the size and the new sensations.

"Breathe, slowly..." the queen bee whispers, guiding her, her own instincts struggling to contain themselves.

Every fiber of her being just wants to move, to lose herself in the moment of possessing the omega, but she knows she has to be patient, especially since it's her first time, she's sure the loser has never been touched by someone like this and doesn't even like to imagine it. She has to confess to herself that she feels more alive than ever, the power and control she has turns them on in a way she's never experienced before. Not only that, having an omega in her arms is different and Y/N still manages to be different than any other omega she's ever shared a bed with, it's a whole new level of ecstasy.

Y/N takes a deep breath, trying to control the moans with every little movement, the stretching is painful, making her untouched walls burn with the intrusion, and it feels so deep even though she hasn't reached halfway, impeded by a thin barrier. At the same time as she's afraid, she can't contain her excitement, wanting to be possessed, filled and fucked into oblivion. The heat spreads, she's at the mercy and knows it, there's no turning back. She gathers her courage and sinks down, taking the rest of the cock all the way in, biting her lip to hold back another high-pitched moan. Their lips meet in a desperate kiss, tongues wrapping around each other, not out of dominance, but out of pure pleasure and delight.

Regina laughs, enjoying every second, and then begins to penetrate her again, moving steadily, in and out slowly, at a pace that makes Y/N feel it fully, inch by inch pulsing inside her.

"Faster... please..." Y/N begs, hands gripping Regina's muscular arms tightly, who opens a predatory smirk, arching her hips a little faster and harder, each thrust increasing the pace until they are both moving desperately in search of pleasure.

"Oh my... I..."

There is no more pain for the youngest, it has faded with every touch and kiss given while her virginity is taken by the alpha. She never imagined that one day she would capture the blue eyes for herself and if she did, it would be in a bad way, like starting to be stalked for some reason, becoming another target in the corridors of North Shore, more socially isolated than she already is. But here Y/N is, in the arms of some of her recurring nightmares and she's surprisingly affectionate. Full, soft lips find the curve of her neck, depositing long kisses, before moving up the length to find her thirsty mouth, rolling their tongues in pure lust and desire. Contained moans and sounds fill the silence of the parking lot.

Regina feels her climax approaching, hips moving faster and faster in a primal need to have her for herself, to claim her.

"I... I'm going to..." Y/N begins, but the words die away as her body convulses with pleasure and the other is no different, struggling to hold on as she feels the intimacy tightening around her member, a hoarse moan escaping from the back of her throat.

The thrusts become faster and deeper, totally sloppy, Regina's manicured nails digging into waist, pulling her tighter and tighter. Each move makes the car shake and they know they're about to fall apart, nothing else matters but reaching the climax. Their breaths are ragged and irregular, the kisses intense and the desire emanating from their bodies, lost in forbidden delight.

"Fuck, come for me, princess." the alpha murmurs, tracing a path down her neck, inhaling the sweet, irresistible scent of pheromones, it's an intoxicating mist that blinds her completely "Be mine..."

Finally, she bites the curve of neck, marking her. The girl moans loudly, a mixture of pain and pleasure as her body falls into an intense orgasm, as she feels the member hit a spongy and delicate spot that makes her lose complete control. The sight and sounds of Y/N reaching climax are enough to trigger Regina's own release. She comes hard, spilling inside the girl with a primal roar, marking her once again, this time with his seed inside the omega.

Heavy panting and sweaty, they remain in the same position, her cock buried inside sensitive pussy, moving tortuously slowly to intensify the pleasure.

Regina lies back on the seat, her eyes beginning to tire and her breathing to settle. The excitement and intensity of the moment also slowly dissipate, replaced by some sense of reality and awareness, as soon as she realizes where she is and who she's with, she's in shock. And soon the cold expression she usually has with zeros to the left returns. She knows she can't allow what happened between them to go public and ruin what's left of her reputation. Not after what she's just been through at the Christmas performance, that would do damage. Y/N, with face still flushed and skin burning, feels reality come back cruelly when she finds the pair of blue eyes staring at her... with disdain and contempt, as they always have.

"Get out, now," the alpha says authoritatively.

The girl hesitates for a moment, unconsciously squeezing the other's arms, confusion and pain evident in her expression, but she manages to hide her disappointment, no matter how much there were no real expectations. She obeys without contest, standing up in a clumsy movement, feeling humiliated at having to pull her still pulsating member out of her, sperm mixed with the blood of her maidenhood dripping down her thighs and falling against the leather red skirt.

While she gets dressed, Regina wastes no time in straightening her own clothes, as quickly as she can, so that she can start the car and leave the parking lot, running away from the mess she's made. She doesn't look back, she can't, because knows she'll see the girl crying. And that she'll come back to Y/N.

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

Two weeks went by faster than any student would have liked and soon classes were back in session. Y/N sighs before entering the school, as usual looking away from everyone and walking quickly to her locker. Even after telling herself a million times that that night didn't exist or didn't mean anything, it didn't do her deluded heart any good, every moment vivid in memories. She knows that deep down there is a tiny spark of hope that Regina might at least treat her differently, not like a piece of trash. She's not sure if she wants a little attention or if she prefers indifference to the coldness she faced after everything.

But this little spark is quickly extinguished when she sees the alpha in the corridor, surrounded by her usual group of friends, and she shows no sign of recognition, her presence is not noticed, a total stranger to the unreachable queen bee, not even worthy of a slight look of contempt.

Over the course of the day, the school becomes more and more challenging, perhaps it's a paranoia that haunts her because of what they did in the parking lot, every whisper and glance from other students makes her shudder at the mere idea that they might know. It scares her. And the loneliness is painful. Her heart squeezes, hands sweat and she feels slightly dizzy, nauseous to the point of vomiting, for a secondshe thinks she's having a stroke when their eyes accidentally meet in the cafeteria.

At the end of the day all she can do is hide in one of the toilets, just as she has done many times before when things were too difficult. It's easy, just cross legs, keep feet out of sight and keep quiet until there's no sign of life, it doesn't take long, everyone's itching to get home quickly or busy with extracurricular activities. It's a "safe" place.

"Did you think I didn't know about this bad habit of yours?"

Y/N freezes as she recognizes the voice behind her once she leaves the cubicle, and in the reflection of the mirror she finds the same face that dismissed her as if she wasn't worth a penny. The blonde rolls her eyes at her reaction and walks briskly over to the bench, leaning on it so that they are face to face.

"Now do you want to talk, Regina?" she asks, swallowing dryly, feeling the oxygen being knocked out of her lungs little by little as the courage comes out of nowhere. "Okay..." she prepares to leave, but is stopped by the familiar squeeze of soft hands on her wrist.

"You're not going to tell anyone, are you?" the question sounds more like a threat, however, looking deep into her eyes can be seen some remnant of vulnerability, possibly fear of what that night might do to the queen bee's reputation. Y/N realizes this and can't help the tears that quickly gather at the edges of her eyes.

"Don't worry about it."

"I'm not worried." the blonde rolls eyes again and lets her go "No one would believe you anyway."

"But I want to understand."

"Understand what?" she knows exactly what it is, just wants to get away from the answers.

Y/N takes a deep breath, trying to stay calm "About what happened... between us. I just want to understand."

Regina bites her lip and exasperates, closing the bathroom door with a bang, the girl shudders and takes a step back.

"There's nothing to understand, Y/N. It was just a moment of weakness, a mistake. Forget about it and move on."

Tears now stream down her cheeks in a pained expression, no matter how hard she tries, the words hit like sharp blades.

"But you said... Regina, you said I was yours." instinctively she brings a hand up to the curve of her neck, where the bite mark can still be felt.

The alpha stares at her in shock, she had forgotten this important detail and her instincts go wild recognizing her own scent on her, even masked by the suppressants, so she lets out a sarcastic laugh, combined with nervousness.

"Did you really believe that? How ridiculous. It was just one insignificant night, just like you."

Shame and anger overtake Y/N, everything seems so small all of a sudden, in slow motion, now she's sure she's going to faint. She brings her hands to wipe away the cascade of tears that persist in falling. She didn't think she'd feel more humiliated and used than weeks before, but hearing, having the tallest one practically shouting cutting words at her, is different, surpassing the pain she felt when she was left behind standing in that cold parking lot.

"Can't you stand me telling the truth? You're a nobody, an outcast, just another needy omega who was lucky enough to find an alpha in heat. Accept that and stop making a scene."

Y/N has to hold onto the wall to keep from falling to her knees right there, the last knife having been driven deep into her already weakened heart. She clenches her fists and tries to keep the sobs that threaten to escape down, the crying intensifies and she can no longer see properly. The naked truth is before her: she has always been, continues to be and will always be a nobody to Regina George... even after all.

Without saying anything or objecting, she turns on her heels and pushes the door open as hard as she can, running out of the bathroom, sobs breaking the silence of the corridors and drawing the attention of the few people still there. What omega wants is to escape the pain and humiliation, make it all go away, hide in a hole in the ground and pretend that she doesn't exist. Maybe, just maybe, then it won't hurt so much.

As Y/N runs away, Regina stands there, static, her expression of cold indifference and contempt slowly crumbling. She feels something strange deep in her chest, a twinge of guilt that she can't ignore. Almost like... regret, when was the last time she had experienced that? She can hardly remember. Then she realizes how harsh she was in the heat of the moment and the damage her words have caused, but her pride and fear keep her from running after the girl. Run to what? Apologize? She wouldn't do that, not even if she was paid.

With a heavy sigh, the blonde leans on the sink, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She no longer sees the same confidence and power that she had until a few minutes ago, but a gag of guilt, which tightens even more when she remembers those pleading eyes, the sincere desire and how she broke Y/N. At this point, Regina realizes that behind her facade of control, she is just as vulnerable as anyone else. By hurting Y/N, she has hurt herself in the process. Because, as much as she denies herself with all her strength, she cares about the omega, but she cares more about her reputation. And she's losing her mind over a loser.

I'm willing to write a part 2 and open to ideas >^^<

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[jungwondazed]

18+ only / jungwon jealous mutual masturbation

a/n: i am not a big fan of this piece, didn't revise too much and wrote it all in one sitting

the walk back to the apartment was a bit more awkward than usual. he still kept his hand on your lower back, he still opened the car door for you, and he still guided you down the hallway. but he was quiet, far too quiet.

even the way he sat on the opposite end of the couch made you wary that jungwon wasn't how he was when you both left to go out tonight, something was off.

you cleared your throat while he was lost in thought, staring far too hard at his hand, and he looked up with a slight raise of his brows. his face was tinted pink from the wine and you thought he was cuter than ever. if things were how they normally were, you would've kissed him all over his face.

he was jealous. he had to have been. otherwise it wouldn't have been this way, it's never this way.

on the small sofa of your living room, he had you spread apart with your clothes scattered all over the floor.

"touch yourself for me," he breathed out, sitting fully clothed on the small rocking chair across from you.

it was mortifying, to be completely undressed. and not to mention the vulgar position he had you in.

"please," you weakly whimper out, confused at what you were even pleading for.

"come on, show me" he was red, a few shades deeper than what he looked like when you first noticed the alcoholic flush.

he slowly unbuttoned his pants, rubbing himself through his briefs and you squirmed at how intimate this was even if he wasn't touching you at all.

maybe it was the way the waiter was eyeing you, or worse, how you responded. you had a problem with not recognizing people's advances, which resulted in you unintentionally giving your attention away. but you were just being polite, you were always this way. although, if it was jungwon and a waitress in that exact situation, you could see why an exchange like that would have anybody riled up.

he was pumping himself now, a look of lust behind his dark eyes. and you were two fingers deep following the pace of his hand.

"not enough," you whine out, and he chuckles softly seeing your dissatisfaction at your own fingers.

he cups his hand to run over the tip of his penis over and over, grunting at the sensitive sensation. his eyes close gently, as if the pleasure was overwhelming, and you were quite irritated with how good he probably felt.

"put another one in," he demands, to which you shake your head, it'd be far too much if you had three. you couldn't take it. two wasn't enough, three was too much.

"trust me, just do what i say." his mouth was slightly open, barely able to get his own words out. he was gorgeous while masturbating, the fall and rise of his chest, the sheen of sweat on his forehead, and the way you could note all of the small crevices that formed on his face when aroused. he looked good, he looked really good.

you stick another finger in, wincing at the stretch because you never fingered yourself anymore. you notice him pausing his movements to gaze at you, an expression of fascination. he's beyond turned on, you see it in the way he looks at you.

your fingers pump in and out of , slow at first, and then faster. this does feel good, doesn't it? is this what you wanted jungwon? you wanted to get close, so close you could cum all over your hand and rub it in his face that you're more than capable of this too.

"curl your fingers for me, ___. curl them" he pumps himself from the base to the tip, quick and hard. he's close too. his groans and grunts are weaker and not as composed.

you curl your fingers, hitting that spot that always brings you to your orgasm and you cum as jungwon strokes himself once more, his own semen shooting out of his tip. you fuck yourself through your orgasm as he keeps stroking, heavily breathing through his lips and gripping at the armrest.

long minutes later does he get up out of his seat to sit besides you, leaning in to kiss your jaw and down to your neck. he always kisses you in these places, before moving to your lips. the kisses are hard, like he had a purpose all along.

you pull back to catch your breath, brows furrowed at his glowy face and half-closed eyes. he looked pleasant like he was enjoying himself.

"what was all this for?" you ask him, nearly out of breath post orgasm and mid make out session.

he leans back in to resume the kiss, ignoring your question, pulling you on top of him to guide you down his length. he wanted you now. he wanted you in this way.

[jam3sacaster]

“Don’t think I’ll go easy on ‘ya.”

(Rivals) Declan O’Hara x Reader

Suggestion by my sweet @harveysgirl101 🩷 / A budding pop star already caught in controversy, you reluctantly accept an offer to appear on Declan…

18+ FANFIC / Smut mention, angsty, intense chemistry. Reader character aged at 21. 🫶🏽

“Marvellous. Thank you.” You beam towards the young Corinium producer, sporting the most impressive mullet. Graciously accepting a bubbling champagne flute, you took a large gulp and stared at yourself in the dressing room mirror. Golden tanned skin, peroxide blonde hair preened into tremendous hoops and the most terrifyingly intimidating outfit — a black latex dress that hugged your voluptuous figure, ruby red lipstick and hooped earrings so large they resembled satellite dishes. “An hour ‘till showtime. Take some time to relax.” The young man informed you, to which you took another painful swig of champagne and nodded in response.

-

Confidently striding through Corinium’s orange-adorned hallways, the man that would be tearing you to shreds in approximately fifty-eight minutes turned a corner, completely indulged in his notes of preparation. “Oh Declan, hello.” You articulate, running a hand across the taut rubber of your dress. “My God, it’s not fancy dress, ya’ do know that?” The Irishman sniggered, his gaze not quite meeting yours. Unsurprising, you didn’t find his vitriolic criticism amusing. “I did hope, Mr O’Hara, that tonight’s interview would be one of personal gain, me to clear my name and boost my career and you to boost your… whatever you call this.” You quickly retorted, folding silken arms together across your chest. Declan raised a hazelnut eyebrow — more so in admiration at your counter-attack than vexation.

“My interviews aren’t to boost anyone’s careers, sweetheart. You can take one step out of line, look behind your shoulder and think no one���s watching. But I’ll have seen. And that’s when I strike.” He snapped, pointing a finger at you in an almost accusatory manner. You’re sure that any other individual being reprimanded by Declan in this way would’ve taken a rather harsh gulp of embarrassment, but you were too quick-witted to let it phase you. Instead, you take a hold of his finger, pushing it back towards him. “That’s the talk of a man that’s either not getting any at home, or has a very small penis.” Snickering heartily as you quip.

This one hit close to home — first remark, not second, he can assure you. It had been a few months now since Maud had packed her bags for London. Not that it made much difference. She was too busy pining after Rupert Campbell-Black to notice something as simple as the colour of his socks, let alone to have sex with him. “God, ‘ya are as fuckin’ insufferable as they say ‘ya are.” Declan tuts towards you, bringing his stack of documents to his face and flicking his eyes over a headline. “Excuse me, miss? Makeup are ready for you.” The mulleted producer softly mutters. Presenting him with a gentle nod, you begin to walk past Declan, but stop momentarily, whispering into his ear, “If you are sexually repressed, Mr O’Hara, you know where to find me. I wouldn’t mind giving you a ride.”

-

Nonchalantly peeling a strip of leather from the makeup artists decaying chair, you breathed in the cloying dust of the mattifying powder being swept across your nose. The makeup artist was a dowdy woman — sunflower-yellow skirt clashing with an emerald green jumper. Closing your eyes as she brushed a rather fetching violet eyeshadow across your lids, you heard the door open. A gentle voice exchanged with the artist, and the door promptly shut again. “Thought I’d better get her out of here before ‘ya lamped her. Are ‘ya actually allowed to be on ya’ own with makeup artists anymore?” The irritating Irishman spoke from behind you. Keeping your eyes closed and grunting out a deep exhale, you could only wish you’d have lit a cigarette before round two.

“Are you actually allowed to be on your own with me in here? Don’t think Lord Baddingham would be too pleased at you threatening his guests.” You mutter, opening your eyes only to very quickly light your much-desired cigarette, taking an elongated puff, and clamping your eyes shut again. “Closing ya’ eyes won’t make me go away. I won’t leave ya’ alone.” He speaks again, ignoring your pathetic jibe. “Like an irritating rash.” You retort, mumbling. Declan couldn’t help but smirk. Maud’s insults towards him were cruel — mean-spirited, intended to humiliate him. Yours, however, were different. You came back at him so quickly, and with such vigour, that he felt he had almost met his match.

Stretching his calloused hand toward the door handle, he spun on his heels and paused momentarily. “I don’t have a small cock, by the way.” Declan titters, prompting you to open your eyes and glare at him with huge, glimmering eyes. “Shame. I was hoping a man so intimidatingly sexy would have one downside, at least.” Raising your leg up as you speak, admiring your frighteningly tall stiletto and revealing to Declan your lack of underwear. “Don’t think I’ll go easy on ‘ya.” He huffed, focused entirely on the sight of your exposed cunt. “In the interview… or now?” You tease, standing from your chair and taking another puff of your cigarette. Without looking back, Declan reached behind him to lock the door.

[halfvalid]

Hey! I was wondering if you could do a live action Zoro smut where it's enemies to lovers (boy X girl). I don't mind how hardcore smut (18+?) but I would love if there was some tension (argument or fight!) 😁

speak teeth

ABOUT

| 18+ | smut | explicit |

alternate title: i need the lord

rating: explicit

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.9k

description: you and zoro have never gotten along. after a incident in town escaping from marines, you resolve to sort out your issues with unconventional means. (aka sex.)

tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, enemies to lovers, except it's more like frenemies to frenemies with benefits, kissing, kiss to distract trope, no use of “y/n”, reader calls zoro "roronoa", penis in vagina sex, creampie, pwp, cowgirl position

author’s note: thanks for the request! i kind of lost the plot on this one because i'm terrible at writing enemies-to-lovers and there's not much 'lovers' involved in this since i couldn't exactly fit that into a oneshot. hopefully you still like it anyway? i tried my best.

tags make it seem so much worse than it actually is.

Roronoa Zoro did not like you. 

The feeling was mutual, so you didn’t mind the fact, really. Zoro was annoying, with his three swords, and that stupid low voice, and how he never seemed interested in conversation unless it was either about alcohol or beating someone up. You were undoubtedly annoying to him for various reasons not so different in number to your own grievances of his personality. You two didn’t like each other. It was fine. It was normal. 

It was pissing off the rest of the Straw Hat crew. 

In your defense, you were never outwardly aggressive towards the man. You didn’t purposely exclude him from conversations or avoid looking at him if he dared haunt a room you were in with his presence. You just… didn’t speak to him unless spoken to. And maybe you had a tendency to roll your eyes or mutter some insults when he was talking, but it wasn’t that big of an issue. 

Zoro, on the other hand, was a master of discord. He’d killed and hunted so many people it only made sense for him to be, but it seemed he hadn’t skipped his lessons in petty fights either. Because he was bullheaded and a buzzkill and always opened his big mouth when you were around. Those sarcastic remarks of his were common, sure, but when you were in the room they were tenfold and laced with genuine venom. 

You weren’t sure who’d even started the strife between you two. It had been so long that you’d forgotten. While everyone else had seemingly bonded after your journey together, you and Zoro remained firmly in the stage you’d been while trapped in Buggy’s green room—antagonistic. Obviously you didn’t hate each other—when Zoro had nearly died to Mihawk, you hadn’t been happy—but you didn’t get along, and both of you were just fine with that arrangement. 

Nobody else was, though.

And so obviously you didn’t like it when Luffy announced, as you were docked, that you were assigned to scout the surrounding village together. Your lips twisted, but you refrained from saying anything up until Luffy finished his speech with: “And that’s the plan! Any objections?” 

There were head shakes from all around the deck of the Going Merry. You eyed Zoro in the very corner—his arms were crossed, and carefully he raised a hand, just barely lifting it into the air as he motioned. “Why is she coming with me?” 

You bit your tongue, suppressing the irritated sigh that threatened to escape. “Because,” Luffy said, bright as ever, “You two need to learn how to be friends. Think of it as a bonding activity!” 

“I’d really rather go with Sanji,” you optioned, trying to be more civil than Zoro at least. “He could use a hand carrying the stock barrels.” 

“Nope,” Luffy chirped. “It makes most sense for the two of you to be the one to buy the weapons, anyway.” 

“He’s right. You both are the most knowledgeable on the subject,” Nami whispered, though she gave you an apologetic look. You sighed. Zoro opted to say nothing. 

“Fine. Let’s go, Roronoa,” you said, getting up off the Going Merry’s railing to start walking off the ship. You heard Zoro grumble from behind you, but he soon caught up. You said absolutely nothing to each other for the first few minutes of walking, keeping to yourselves until you eventually reached the market. 

“What kind of weapons are we looking for?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at the man who trailed just barely behind you. “I know Luffy wants backups, but did he say specifically what?” 

“Probably a few guns, maybe some swords,” Zoro replied. “A katana for me. Extra staff for Nami, in case hers breaks.” 

“Right. Nami gave me five-hundred thousand berry. Let’s spend it wisely. No pit stops.” 

Zoro gave you a look. “It’s not like I’m going to slip into the nearest tavern and abandon you. Luffy said we go together, so we go together.” 

“Right.” You turned away so you could roll your eyes in private. You had to appreciate that, at least; Zoro’s loyalty to Luffy at least meant he wouldn’t be a bitch to you if Luffy told him not to, and Nami kept you more or less under wraps too. “Pistols first. Let’s just get two, and save the rest for a sword because those are more pricey.” 

Focusing on business was fine. You could be a responsible adult and not be petty. And it really did go okay for the first half-hour, wherein you bartered one of the weapons sellers down to a reasonable price for two pistols and also picked up a bo staff on the way.

You were just heading towards another district of the town when Zoro slowed to a stop. You glanced over to see what he was looking at—a wall pasted with bounty posters, various pirates plastered on paper with big numbers shouting out their worth. 

“Look, it’s Luffy,” you said, eyes catching a bundle of posters near the top. Sure enough, all six members of the Straw Hat crew were there. You noticed with distaste that Zoro’s bounty was higher than yours.

Zoro tore all of the posters off, and you were almost surprised when he took yours off too. He crumpled them up into balls, about to toss them behind his shoulder before you grabbed them, carefully tucking them away in your bag. “What’s that for?” he asked. 

“So I can shoot darts at your face,” you replied. “Come on. Should finish and get back to the ship before anyone recognizes us.” 

Zoro shrugged, but followed you as you led him to the closest armory you could find. The shop was small and rickety, and a silver bell announced your presence as you entered the building. There were blades of every kind in the shop; you could see a table of knives and daggers, along with a stand full of long swords by the front. Near the back, you glimpsed some hanging rapiers, and—

“Katanas,” Zoro muttered, pushing past you to slip to the back of the store. You sighed, but followed, glancing over the array of jians instead. Zoro was already picking one up and pulling it out of its sheath, checking the quality of the blade. 

“Don’t—” you hissed, and he glanced up at you, brow raised in question as he spun the blade around in his hand. “You’re going to knock something over.” 

Zoro sheathed the sword, a satisfying click filling the room with the motion. “Calm down.” 

“I am calm,” you snapped. “If you’d just stop stomping around with those big boots of yours, though—” 

Zoro looked far less affected by the entire ordeal than you did, and that pissed you off even more. Logically, you knew he didn’t show much emotion in general, and even his annoyances tended to be deep and quiet—but still. He strung the katana back up where it belonged. “I am not stomping.” 

“Yes, you are—” You cut yourself off as the bell of the store rang again, announcing the arrival of more patrons. These two were whispering to each other, gruff voices that sounded almost scared. “He came in here, right?” One of them asked the other. “Are you sure it’s him?” 

“He tore down his own wanted poster!” The other hissed back. 

You caught onto what was happening quickly, letting a sigh out from between your teeth and grabbing onto Zoro’s arm to yank him further back into the store. You turned a corner, where a narrow hall cut off at a dead end, a wardrobe of swords blocking off the area to any prying eyes. “Now look at what you did,” you grumbled, before you could stop yourself. “You’ve got fucking bounty hunters after us.” You glanced through the stands of swords for a double take—the pair were standing at the front, outfitted in familiar white-and-blue uniforms. “Scratch that, even worse. Marines.” 

“I can take them in a fight,” Zoro muttered, hand going to his swords. You grabbed his wrist and gave him a look. 

“No. We’re not due to leave the docks for another two days,” you snapped. “Can you figure out a way to get out of a situation without stabbing someone?” 

“How can you be sure it was him, though? The Demon?” The more timid marine asked. They’d started moving, and you shoved Zoro into the corner, attempting to hide his ridiculously broad figure with an armoire of weapons. He scoffed, but made no move to adjust, back flat against the wall.

“He had the three swords. And the three earrings, too. Of course it was him,” the other one replied. You rolled your eyes. 

“Ever try being a little less obvious, Roronoa?” you muttered, shooting another glare in Zoro’s direction. “You’re like a flashing red light for every marine within a two-mile radius with your stupid swords. I’m Roronoa Zoro, the pirate hunter!” 

“I don’t hear you yelling at Luffy to take his hat off,” Zoro hissed back. 

“They’re coming this way,” you answered, entirely ignoring his retort. “Hide your stupid swords. Shove them behind a stand or something.” 

“I don’t see why we can’t just—” 

“No fighting.” You swiveled around, tugging his holsters off his belt and tossing the swords behind him with a graceless clatter. Zoro just sighed. “Shit,” you muttered as the marines turned at the noise, starting to move towards the back of the store.

“Now look at what you did,” Zoro mumbled, mocking your words straight back at you. You glared at him. 

“Shut up and stay put,” you snapped. “Let me think of something.” The marines were coming closer, and you huffed out a nervous breath. Zoro watched you from his position. 

“They know your face, too,” he said carefully. Almost derisively, like he was looking down on your idea; making you seem stupid. “Just let me fight them. It makes the most sense.” The footsteps grew louder, then, the marines moving towards the back of the store. 

“I think I heard voices,” one of them muttered to the other. You shushed Zoro, unconsciously moving closer to him until your arm bumped into his. You startled, and then looked up, finding Zoro’s chest just inches away from your face. 

“Is this some new sort of hiding tactic?” Zoro asked, voice dry as a desert. “Are you trying to melt us into the wall—” 

The voices tapered off as the marines moved closer. Your hand shot up to cradle Zoro’s face, covering his dangling gold earrings with your fingers to hide them away. “Fuck this,” Zoro muttered, leaning back to pick up his swords. You shushed him, and he stopped, bent halfway over you so your faces were just inches apart. 

“Just trust me,” you snapped. Zoro opened his mouth to argue, but then the marines’ footsteps got louder—they’d turn the corner any moment now. 

“Fine,” he breathed. “But if it doesn’t work, I’m taking out my swords.” 

Your mind ran a million miles a minute trying to figure out what to do. The marines were just around the corner now, and your breath caught, eyes meeting Zoro’s as you wracked your brain for something, anything that might distract the marines away from the two of you. Zoro’s lips parted, a split-second away from undoubtedly whispering some grand insult when the marines finally turned the corner.

You were kissing Zoro before you could even think. 

“Oh,” one of the marines said, as your fingers nearly pinched Zoro’s earlobe, still covering his earrings. Zoro was frozen for a moment, but the marines behind you seemed startled enough that he realized it was working. A rush of satisfaction filled you for a moment—see, Roronoa, you don’t have to stab shit all the time—before Zoro was kissing you back.

And. Well. You’d started it, but you had not anticipated this. 

Zoro was almost rough, his hand curling around the nape of your neck and tugging you down closer to him. His other hand came to rest on your waist, so impossibly big around your torso that you shivered. What had started out as a simple kiss slipped into one all messy, your breaths coming out in sharp gasps as Zoro barely gave you a moment to breathe. 

His teeth dug into your lip, and you groaned into his mouth, tongue darting along his gums with the motion. He snickered at that, and you felt a little bundle of vexation starting at the pit of stomach at the sound. You ran your tongue into the crevices of his mouth, licking into him with ease. Another rush of satisfaction filled you as Zoro’s grip tightened on your waist. You were winning.

He fought back just as hard, practically merciless as his tongue slid against yours, prying into your mouth like he was trying to bare you empty of secrets. You felt stripped raw like this, but it wasn’t a terrible feeling—the opposite, actually, soft whimpers leaving your lungs as he dug more fiercely into you. Zoro sucked on your lower lip with teeth, and you barely managed to suppress the stuttered sound it tugged out from the back of your throat. 

There were hasty footsteps receding somewhere behind you, which was the only sound that snapped you out of your motions. You were the first to break away—another score gained there—glancing over your shoulder to ensure the marines had really left before fully detaching yourself from Zoro. The silver bell rung again, signaling the marines had made their exit, and you let out a relieved sigh. 

Zoro glanced over your shoulder, straightening his clothes as his tongue ran along his top teeth. The top teeth you’d had your tongue on just seconds ago. “If you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just said so.” 

“I did not—” You sucked in a breath, all your general irritated feelings towards the man coming back at full force with just that one sentence. “Shut the fuck up. I got us out of the situation, didn’t I?” 

“You have questionable methods,” Zoro replied, leaning over to pick up his abandoned swords and strap them back along his hip. “Don’t think about that all night.” 

“You were not that good of a kisser,” you snapped, though you could feel your face getting hot. Your mouth tingled, like you could still taste him on your tongue; on your teeth; in your gums. There was a vaguely empty sensation at the curve of your waist you tried your best to ignore. “Don’t be so full of yourself. Roronoa. Now pick a sword to buy so we can leave already.”

Zoro seemed irritated, but he complied, brushing past you to inspect a few more of the swords before picking out one. You paid for it as quickly as possible, in a rush to get back to the ship; not even trying to talk the salesman down from his price like you usually would. 

Zoro followed you languidly, absolutely nothing urgent about his motions as you trailed after you back through the village. You wanted to uppercut him so badly. 

“Oh, there you guys are,” Usopp said upon stepping foot back onto the Going Merry. You shot him an apologetic smile before breezing past, beelining for your bedroom without a second thought. “Uh—okay! You good?” he called after you, but you were too far away to respond at this point. 

You slammed the door of your room shut upon entering, heaving out a breath of jumbled emotion all in one go. Fuck Roronoa Zoro and his three stupid swords and his three stupid earrings. He was the most lumbering, bullheaded oaf you’d ever had the displeasure of engaging with. 

He’d been a ridiculously good kisser. Now you hated him even more. 

You locked yourself in your room for the next four hours, busying yourself with various tasks whilst simultaneously seething over Zoro. It wasn’t even that he’d done anything specifically to you in the past. You just—didn’t get along, really. He was irritating, and stupid, and always tried to solve his problems with a blade rather than attempting to use his wits. Not that he had any wits of any kind. He was—

He was, as you were starting to find out, kind of attractive. Which. Okay. You’d known his face was at least easy on the eyes, despite his personality and general attitude not retaining the same qualities. But this was an entirely unappreciated development. 

Someone knocked on your door, snapping you out of your irritated haze. The sun had nearly set, a kiss of dusk coming in from outside as you shuffled over to the door. You yanked it open. “What—”

Zoro was standing in the doorway, arm propped against the side and keeping your door open even as you attempted to close it on him. “Roronoa.” 

“You’re hiding,” Zoro said, a tinge of mirth just barely visible in his eyes. You glared at him. 

“I am not.” 

“Do you have to disagree with everything I say?” Zoro asked. He was still wearing his swords even now, though he’d dressed down as the hour grew late. “You skipped dinner.” 

“Leave me alone,” you muttered. 

Zoro took that as an invitation to step fully into the room. “I told the rest of the crew about the marines,” he said, and you flinched. “Not about that. Just that we got away. Nami wants to leave tomorrow evening now, so we’ll be busy.” 

You stared at him, suspicious right from the start. “And you care enough to tell me? Did someone put you up to this?” 

Zoro stiffened. “I just thought you might want to know.” 

Your eyes narrowed. He looked as normal as ever—face blank, leaving no expression to be seen. But his muscles were tenser than usual, and the veins running up his arm were prominent, like his hand was tightened into a fist where it hid away in his pocket. “You have ulterior motives.”

“You’re so annoying,” Zoro muttered, but he didn’t budge. You scoffed. 

“What, are you here to admit that you were wrong and my plan really did get us away from the marines?” you asked, voice sugary sweet as you riled him up. His jaw clenched, a vein tracing up his neck bulging with the pressure. “You don’t need to inflate my ego—”

Zoro moved across the room swiftly, and you stumbled back in surprise as he pinned you to the wall, hand tight around your arm. Your words died in your throat as his lips sealed over yours with a bruising kiss. His fingers dug into the skin of your bicep—tight, but not tight enough to hurt. 

“I don’t need to inflate your ego,” Zoro snapped, finishing your sentence from where it’d died on your lips. “You do that enough yourself.” 

You stared at him, the tingle of his lips still left as an afterthought on your mouth. “If you’re going to make out with me, take your fucking swords off.” 

Zoro barely suppressed an eye roll, hands working at his belt to slide his holsters off from his hip. “What’s your problem with them?” 

“I think your emotional dependency on a bunch of oversized butter knifes—”

Zoro’s head jerked up, eyes dark when they met yours. “Don’t call them that.” 

You couldn’t resist the quip off your tongue. “You asked.” 

Zoro slowly made his way across the room again, steps careful and languid as he moved closer. “I take it back,” he said, voice a near whisper, every word crisp on his tongue. You shivered. 

This time, you expected it when he kissed you. He wasn’t careful with it, and you didn’t want it any other way—your arms wrapped around the back of his neck, tugging him down closer to you. It got aggressive quick, his fingers coming down to clutch your waist, one of your hands tight around the locks of his hair as you pried open his mouth with your tongue. 

Neither of you complied easily, both trying to get the better of the other. Zoro’s tongue forced itself into your mouth before you tugged on his lower lip with teeth. Both his hands came to wrap around your waist, now, hoisting you up and onto your hanging bed in the center of the room. His fingers dug in hard enough to leave bruises. 

Zoro abandoned your mouth in favor of your neck, biting open-mouthed kisses into your jawline before moving down your jugular. Each one was more hasty than the last, wet and warm with licks of tongue and scrapes of teeth. You didn’t bother moving to give him better access—he had to do that himself, a large hand coming to rest on the back of your skull and pulling your head back to bare the rest of your neck to him. You heard him mutter something in Japanese—probably some obscenity, which pleased you more than you’d like to admit. 

His kisses stopped at the hinge of your neck and shoulder, Zoro pausing to lean over and work his fingers up your spine. They danced over the clasp of your shirt, and you had to choke back a wry laugh, surprised. “I thought the Demon just took what he wanted,” you murmured. 

Zoro didn’t seem to like that. He started unfastening the buttons going down the back of your top. “At least I was polite enough to ask,” he muttered. 

“Just take my clothes off already,” you said, and he stopped his work, leaning back to glare into your eyes. You let out an annoyed sigh, and he rolled his eyes, going back to what he’d been doing. “Are we going to talk about it?” you asked, eyeing Zoro’s chest in front of you. 

You pressed a kiss to his neck, sucking at the skin before grazing it ever-so-slightly with your teeth. His throat hitched under your mouth. 

“Nope,” he grunted, finally unclasping the last button and pulling your top over your head. Since you didn’t have an issue with that arrangement, you didn’t say anything, even as Zoro practically shoved you flat on your back. 

“Rude,” you muttered. Zoro didn’t bother apologizing; he just leaned down to take your breast in his mouth, tongue circling around your nipple. You weren’t fast enough to suppress your gasp this time—a point in Zoro’s favor then, one you allowed with a bitter taste on your tongue. Zoro’s mouth formed a smile against your skin. You brought your knee up between his legs, shoving into his crotch in retaliation. 

“Stop,” Zoro hissed, the consonants of the words brushing across your skin when he spoke. You ignored him, and he let out a groan, hand clamping around your thigh to keep you from moving. “Do you have to be such a brat?” 

“I am not a brat.” You hooked your ankle around his, causing him to slip from where he lay suspended above you, mouths mashing in another too-aggressive facsimile of a kiss. “You’re just a gigantic manwhore with an overinflated ego.” 

“You did not just call me—” You shut him up with another kiss, teeth digging deep into the inner gums of his lip. You ran your hands up the sides of Zoro’s figure, trying your hardest to ignore the stiff muscles of his ribcage. He wasn’t that well-built. He wasn’t even that attractive, you tried to convince yourself. Still, you found the buttons of his shirt, trying to unfasten them quicker than Zoro had with yours. 

One of them caught, and Zoro had the audacity to laugh. You grumbled something incoherent under your breath, tugging his shirt off all the way and tossing it somewhere behind you. “Shut up.” 

“You’ve been the one complaining this entire time,” Zoro replied easily. He leaned down, tugging at your trousers to pull them off, pressing sloppy kisses down your torso now. You resisted the urge to say something in response, knowing it would just give him the satisfaction of being right. Were your points tied now? You couldn’t remember. 

Zoro had pulled your pants down to your knees by now, and you kicked them off all the way, watching as he pushed them off the bed and leaned down to work at the inward slope of your hip. You shivered, legs trembling as you felt your core grow tight, the cloth of your underwear already wet with anticipation. Seeing the ever-steadying tent in Zoro’s pants made you feel just a little bit better, and you were nice enough to let a stuttering moan out as his tongue licked down to the band of your panties. 

He pulled your underwear all the way off, then, but to your distaste completely ignored your fully exposed core to unbutton his own pants instead. “I hate you,” you muttered. 

Zoro stopped in the middle of what he was doing, pants halfway down his thighs and length already out. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, voice careful—you could still hear the mocking tone beyond the coolness of his voice, though, and your jaw clenched in irritation. “Did you want something?” 

“Yeah, for you to shut the fuck up.” You pushed yourself up by the elbows, grabbing one of Zoro’s arms and yanking him down onto the mattress. You used both hands to strip him of the last of his clothes—God, his legs were long—before returning to press your own open-mouthed bruises along his neck. His hips bucked up against yours, insistently chasing any friction, but you tightened a grip on his thigh to get him to stop. “Give me a second.” 

“I don’t like that I’m suddenly under you,” Zoro said drily, and you could feel the words as they formed in his throat, still biting hickeys into his skin. You rolled your eyes, lips disconnecting from skin with a dull pop.

“Deal with it, Roronoa. I’m not moving.” With that, you finally reached down to coax his legs apart, hovering your core over his hips as you lined your entrance up with his length. 

There was an audible hitch of breath on Zoro’s part as you sunk onto him. Point. 

One of his hands tangled in your hair when you started moving, the other coming to press on the small of your back as you worked yourself up and down around him. For the complaining he’d done about the position, he didn’t seem so bothered about it, pulling you into a rough kiss. 

You bit back with force, breath escaping you as your hips bucked against Zoro’s. The wet pool in your lower belly only grew stronger with every thrust, pressure building up inside of you as Zoro’s tongue ran across your teeth. You moaned freely now, too lost in the daze of your pleasure to remember to be annoying. Evidently Zoro felt the same way—he swallowed every one of your gasps up, grunting as you pulsed around him.

Your hips stuttered, thigh muscles contracting with the effort as you clenched down on Zoro. Still, you pushed through even as your muscles started to tire, encouraged by the deep, throaty sounds that escaped Zoro's lips between each kiss. He was big, filling you up damn near wholeheartedly, the crevices inside of you seeming to mould to his skin as you worked yourself on him.

Zoro started moving against you, and you gasped as his angle changed, somehow reaching farther in your body and causing tingles to erupt all along your skin. Your mind buzzed as he thrust into you with renewed vigor, core pulsing as you felt yourself come closer and closer to the edge. 

You came all at once, teeth biting down in Zoro’s mouth before you parted from him. You let out a gasping moan, attempting to toss your head back as stars burst across your vision. Zoro’s hand in your hair dragged you back into a kiss, though; this one was slower, less teeth this time, like him coming had lessened the urge to bite. 

Your movements slowed, coming to rest against Zoro’s skin, warm and—although you wouldn’t say so out loud—almost comfortable. His hand hadn’t budged from where it was pressed against your lower back, holding you tight to him. 

There was a sticky wetness spreading fast by your thighs, and you grimaced, lifting yourself off of Zoro and rolling beside him on your back in one fluid motion. He stifled a groan at the movement, clearly irritated at the fact you hadn’t given any warning. 

You lay there, breath heaving, rising out your high and making no move to touch the man laying by your side. 

After you’d regained some of your dignity, you sat up, eyes narrowing at Zoro. “Get off my bed.” 

Zoro gave you an exasperated look, but he didn’t argue; he just climbed off your bed, retrieving his clothes from where you’d tossed them about the room. He donned them slowly, like he had all the time in the world. Your eyes traced along his figure while he did, and you only felt sort of annoyed by it. 

“I still hate you,” you snapped, after he’d finished changing. Zoro just scoffed, picking up his swords and slinging them across one shoulder. You could see a bruise purpling by his neck. At least you’d done damage. 

“Fine by me,” he replied, straightening his shirt and giving you a look—not quite irritated, not quite sarcastic. “Dinner’s still waiting for you.” 

You glared at his back as he opened the door to your bedroom. “Get lost, Roronoa,” you said, and that was that. 

© halfvalid 2023

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Attention

Request from Wattpad-

Wanda x G!P reader 18+ Reader got so busy with work that she didn't have time to cuddle/pay attention to Wanda. So, Wanda picked a fight with Reader just to get their attention. (1.4k words)

Warnings/Tags: 18+ Smut MDNI, Girl Penis Reader, Rough sex, Dirty Talk, Make up Sex, Multiple orgasms, fingering, Hand jobs, Creampies, Praise

---

“Detka,” Wanda calls out, stretching her body out on the bed, her shirt rising up slightly as she turns her head to look at you, body facing your laptop as your fingers type away at another report. “Come to bed and cuddle me,” there’s a playful tone in her voice but it soon fades when she sees you ignore her comments, too wrapped up in your work. When you don’t respond, she climbs out of bed, walking up behind you and wrapping her arms around your shoulders, facing burying itself at your neck. “Moya Lyubov,” she mutters against your neck, “Come to bed.”

“Not now Wanda, I’m busy,” you sigh out, losing your track of thought at the presence of your girlfriend.

“Of course you are,” she huffs out, arms slipping off your body as she moves to lean on your desk.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you frown at her choice of words, annoyance flooding through your body.

“You’re always fucking busy Y/n,” her tone irritated, “It’s like all you do is work, work and guess what? More fucking work!”

“What do you want me to do then?” Your voice raises as you glare at her, “Stop working and get fired? Cause that's a brilliant idea!”

“No,” her arms cross around her chest while you stand from your seat, looking down at her slightly, “I just want you to do something other than work all the time.”

“Like what?” Wanda shakes her head at you, her finger hitting your chest at her next words.

“Oh, I don’t know, pay attention to your girlfriend, actually spend some time with her.”

“So, you want attention, this what this is all about?”

“Oh my god,” she chuckles out in disbelief, attempting to walk away from you but your hand grips hers, pulling her back to you. “You’re making this my fault now?”

“What? No-” you’re about to say more but she cuts you off.

“Oh, just shut up,” her mouth then crashes to yours, having had enough of arguing and just wanting you to give her some sort of attention, especially if it involves you pounding her into the bed.

You groan into the kiss, hands moving to her hips and pinning her against your desk as you press into her. You can feel your pants getting tighter as you grind against her, her moaning into your mouth at feeling how turned on you were. Her hands lower to cup you through your pants, a moan escaping you before your hands slip to the back of her thighs, picking her up and carrying her to the bed.

“Is this what you want?” you mutter between kisses, one your hands wrapping around her wrists and pinning them above her head. “You just want me to fuck you?” you can feel her smirking into the kiss, releasing she just wanted to rile you up.

“Yes,” she sighs out before you claim her lips again, Wanda sliding her tongue into your mouth and dominating the kiss. “So, fuck me, hard.” You groan into the kiss, pulling back to tug her the joggers she stole from you off, a small ‘fuck’ leaving your lips when you see the visible wet spot on her panties. Her head lolls back against the soft mattress when she feels your finger run along her soaked panties, teasing her through the fabric to make her whimper quietly.

“God, you’re dripping,” her hands fight your grip, sliding out and moving to unfasted your pants, eyes darkening when she sees your dick straining against your boxers.

“So are you,” she teases, noticing the small bit of precum on your boxers. You ignore her words and slide her panties down her legs, your fingers running through her folds before moving back to her clit to circle slowly. “Shit,” her tone breathy as you lean down to press your lips to hers hungrily, your fingers sliding into her making her hips buck against your hand. While you stretch her out, her hand slips under the waistband of your joggers, stroking your length, fingertips teasing the tip to have you moaning into her mouth.

“I need you now,” you pant out, sliding your fingers out and swiftly taking your boxers off, her adjusting herself on the bed so she’s spread out for you. Her hand then returns to your cock, fingers running up and down you one last time before she positions you at her entrance.

“Don’t be gentle with me Detka,” she purrs, your hips slowly pushing into her to let her adjust before pulling out till only the tip remains in and slamming your hips back into her. Moans and the sound of skin slapping fills the room as you pound her into the mattress, her hands threading through your hair and keeping your face close as your mouths meet messily but passionately. “Fuck right there,” she moans out, you also letting out a pleased sound as you can feel her pussy clenching around you.

Her warm and wet cunt has pleasure clouding your mind, your cock hitting her weak spots with every powerful thrust. Her hands move to clutch at your back, nails digging in and leaving red marks in their trails as you pump your hips into her relentlessly as she moans your name over and over again.

“Fuck Wanda, you feel so good,” you moan out, moving to bury your face against her neck, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses there while you could hear her moaning unabashedly into your ear.

“Detka,” she groans sinfully, you whimper at the way she tightens around you, cock twitching inside her. “I’m so close,” you continue your pace of thrusting into her, not changing anything as you can feel her orgasm swiftly approaching. “I’m coming,” she practically screams, pussy spasming around you while her orgasm rips through her body. You can feel her cum coating your cock, throwing you straight into your orgasm as you release into her, the warm white liquid filling her up, your hips stuttering, mouth biting down on her neck in an attempt to muffle the moan.

Despite your powerful orgasm, your dick still remains hard, Wanda noticing and looking up at you with lust-filled eyes, the green in her eyes disappeared and replaced by pure desire.

“Can you do one more?” she whispers, still trying to catch her breath. You answer her by pulling out, turning her over onto her stomach and sliding back into her. A lewd noise escapes her at feeling you fill her up once again, your length reaching deep inside her with each long and hard stroke. “That’s it Dekta, just like that,” she praises, you almost coming at the tone of her voice.

You move your hands to interlock over hers, you brace yourself above her body near her head and looking down to see your cock being swallowed up by her greedy cunt, ass bouncing every time your hips pump into her.

“Wanda,” you groan out, leaning down so she can hear your low, ragged breaths against the shell of her ear. “I’m not going to last much longer,” you sigh, her clenching around you hard not helping.

“Come in me Detka,” she moans while moving one of her hands from under yours down to her clit, circling it quickly as she was also near her second orgasm, “Please come in me again.”

You let out a guttural moan as your hips still, emptying into her and panting above her body as you feel her also coming once again. Slowly, you rock your hips into her to help both of you ride out your orgasms before pulling out when it gets too sensitive. You watch in awe as your cum gradually starts to drip out of her, Wanda reaching back and using her finger to push it back in, a whimper leaving her lips.

Once you recover, both of you go to the bathroom to clean up so you can go to bed, the report on your laptop being long forgotten as you snake your arms around her waist and pull her close.

“I’m sorry for being too busy with work,” you murmur, her sighing against your neck as she snuggles into your body, bare breasts pressing into your body as you both decide to sleep naked. “I love you.”

“It’s ok Detka,” she whispers, “I love you too.” She pulls back to press a soft and gentle kiss to your lips before returning to her place at your neck, exhaustion taking over both of your bodies as sleep takes over you both.

---

I hope you all enjoyed :)

Please leave any thoughts/comments/reblogs :) They are greatly appreciated! <3

Masterlist

[intergalactic-garbage]

true facts about little alex horne

he can fit a penny in the gap between his teeth

has exactly 30% fewer bones than the average person

comes into work with his sandwiches cut into fingers, because he believes they "taste better"

tina turner once described him as "simply the best", and in a separate conversation, "a complete arsehole"

goes around the supermarket following people he thinks look cool, and when they pay and throw away the receipt, picks it up, and buys what they bought

nibbles and scurries his way through life like a long human rat

has his mantra going in his head at all times, and it's "absoluta pulsis voluptatem" (absolute driving pleasure)

when naked, looks like a weird, ill monkey

has crumbs in his beard dating back to the 90's

when it comes to childcare, he doesn't think his wife rachel "pulls her weight"

he doesn't really like women, because he thinks they've gotten a bit "too chopsy of late"

walks like a weird victorian clockwork toy soldier

is the answer to the question "what happens if you throw chunks of pork at a revolving carwash brush?"

his new years' resolution was "bringing back the patriarchy"

his first french kiss was with his second cousin jacob, now a legal underwriter on the isle of man

he doesn't think the NHS is very good, and according to him, some nurses are "lazy"

cries every time he watches free willy, and frees his willy every time he cries

has a separate bank account that his wife doesn't know about

as a child was so irritating, that his mother paid for "a barrage of medical tests"

he's scared of three things: slugs, small spaces, and women being allowed to vote

was once chased and bitten by a peacock in a day he refers to as "the day [he] lost [his] children's respect"

thinks all primary school teachers are the scum of the earth

thinks the refuge team that collects his bins every week are "stupid" and "don't deserve to be paid"

thinks climate change is a hoax propagated by "liberal pussies who don't know how to party"

sometimes deliberately revs his engine in traffic, because it makes him feel "like [he's] in charge of all women"

"[doesn't] know much about politics, but [he thinks] poor people should stop moaning and pull their flipin' fingers out"

is the answer to the question "what does a corpse look like when a corpse continues to grow hair post-mortem?"

his father has only ever given him one christmas gift, a beautifully wrapped piece of welsh slate, that had one solitary word engraved upon it. that word? toad.

until the age of 14 thought his penis was an eleventh finger, with the specific purpose of putting stamps onto letters

when he was young, used to practice kissing on his grandfather's pet carp "mr. suckles"

his slogan is "friendless oddball"

if it was up to him, scotland would be physically sawn off from the UK, and floated into the north sea. horne stated that "we'll soon find out how much they want independence when all they've got to eat is shortbread"

when his wife shouts at him, he whispers "get lost" under his breath

his children call him "little alex horne"

once got dragged 11 miles through the open country side by holding on to what he believed to be a horse's "fifth leg"

makes up tasks in his jacuzzi, and knows he's got a "good one", because "[his] bald ferret breaks the surface for air"

if he sees the pilot of any plane he boards is a woman, he immediately leaves

once hospitalized himself by doing high kicks to toxic by britney spears

🎶 he says he's over six foot but he's five foot four 🎶 little alex horne! 🎶

without hair would be as physically featureless as one sausage

ran away with a circus, but was sent back home, because he was annoying everyone and upset the animals

at some point nearly every day, he cries

once did a poo in a paddling pool

pretty woman is his favourite film

collects teapots that look like cottages

has no respect for the military, and if any soldier came up to him in public, "[he] could easily have them coz they're all stupid"

his head is shaped like the rubber of a pencil, and his body is shaped like a pencil

statistics are his foreplay and spreadsheets his post-coital cigarette

his wife keeps a pocketful of treats for when he remembers to "do toilet outside"

is single-handedly keeping the plastic shoe industry alive

once wet himself on a train when he was 30

hasn't bought car tax or insurance since the 90's, because he thinks it's an example of "big government"

[ramblingoak]

Care Package

Papa Emeritus IV x GN Reader ~ You take care of Copia after he gets sick at the end of the tour

Warnings: Copia being dramatic while sick, fluff, sfw, 1k words, not proofread forgive me

“I’m dying.”

Here we go.  It was a good thing your back was turned because Copia would pitch a fit if he saw you rolling your eyes.  You sighed and continued to pick up all of the used tissues that were littering the floor.  When he let out a pitiful sigh you groaned, turning your head to glare at him.

“Copia, you’re fine.”

“No, no this is it.  I can feel it.”  You bit your lip to stifle the laugh that wanted to bubble out.  Copia was endlessly dramatic whenever he was under the weather.  “It’s near.”

“What’s near?”

“Death.”

“Oh Lucifer, you’re not going to die from a cold.”  He started to respond but was immediately interrupted by a series of violent sneezes, the whole bed shaking from the force of them.  You turned back to the dirty tissues, shoving them into a trash bag while he recovered.  The sound of him blowing his nose filled the room and right when you were turning to check on him again a wet, balled up tissue hit you right in the face.  “Son of a fuck!  Copia!”

“Eh?”  His adorably confused look stopped you from leaping onto the bed and strangling him, but just barely.  The sight of his red, watery eyes made your irritation disappear.  His face was flushed from the fever and sweaty locks of hair had fallen across his forehead.  When Copia realized you were staring at him he groaned and threw his arm over his face.  “You shouldn’t see me like this.”

“Like what?”  You dropped the trash bag and grabbed another box of tissues, slowly walking around the bed to sit by his hip.  He whined when you tugged on his arm so you could see his face.  “Hey, like what?”

“Pathetic.”  You cooed at him, reaching out to brush his hair back.  He sighed when you placed your cool hand on his forehead.  “Weak and old.  Hideous.” 

“Well, this is all true bu–”

“Dolcezza!”  Copia’s voice broke while he whined and he was overcome with a fit of coughing.  You helped turn him so he was coughing away from you, rubbing his back as they came to an end.  “Ugh, why are you here?”

“Someone has to take care of you.”

“You’re going to get sick too.”  He rolled back over on his back with a groan.  “I don’t want you to catch this.”

“I’ll just have to risk it.”  You smoothed his hair out again, giving him a soft smile when he met your eyes.  “I want to take care of you, Copia.”

“Fine, fine.  Twist my arm.”  He managed a weak smile and you resisted the urge to lean down and kiss him.  “Thank you, amore.”

“You’re welcome, Papa.”  You reached towards his night stand and grabbed the damp cloth you had set there earlier.  Copia let out a relieved sigh when you wiped the sweat off his face.  “Now, I’m going to clean you up a bit and then you’ll need to eat something before you take any more medicine.”

“I couldn’t possib–”

“It's homemade chicken noodle soup.”

You laughed when he grabbed your hand, his eyes lighting up at your words.

“Did Secondo make it?”

“Yes, your brothers gave me a care package for you.”  Copia sniffled a bit and you let him pretend it was from his cold.  You got up to grab the laundry basket Terzo had given you and brought it over to the bed, setting it at Copia’s feet so you could show him everything inside.  “Your ghouls also added a few things.”

“Anything good?”

“Primo gave me a salve I’m supposed to rub on your chest.”  You shook her head at him when he waggled his eyebrows.  Even when feverish he couldn’t help himself.  “And Terzo added a book and these penis shaped hard candies for your throat.”

“Where does he find this stuff?”  Copia made grabby hands for the candies and you tossed them over.  He opened the bag quickly, popping one into his mouth and smiling around it.  “These aren’t bad though, what book is it?” 

“The Hobbit.”  His eyes immediately started watering and you frowned.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing.  He used to read that to me when we were kids.”  Copia cleared his throat and smiled.  “What did the ghouls send?”

“Um, Phantom knit you a sweater but he ran out of yarn so it’s missing a sleeve.”  You held up the bright blue monstrosity that the quintessence ghoul had proudly shoved into your hands that morning.  “Other than that you got some eucalyptus candles and tea, a few crossword puzzle books and Aurora is letting you borrow her box set of all the Halloween movies.”

Copia’s face lit up at the last item, both he and the ghoulette had bonded over an intense love for slasher movies.  You laid the sweater over his chest and handed him the dvd’s then busied yourself putting the basket away and setting the candles around the room while you both pretended he wasn’t crying.  After he blew his nose a few times you wandered back over, the book from Terzo in your hands.  Copia yawned and settled back into his pillows while you fussed over him, helping him get comfortable.

“Will you read to me, amore?”  You wanted to get him to eat some soup first, but rest would be good for him as well.  As carefully as possible you got up on the bed and sat next to him, smiling when he scooted closer and rested his head against your thigh.  “Just until I fall asleep.”

“Whatever you need, Copia.  I’ll be right here.”  His breath was already evening out, his body going limp as you ran your fingers through his hair.  You quietly opened the book in your lap, taking a few seconds to watch him before you started to read.  “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit…” 

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you! Also if you'd prefer to only be tagged in my reader insert stuff that's ok! Feel free to let me know!

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

[octuscle]

Now open under new management (remake)

Edward Parker III rolled down the car window a crack. Peter, his driver, had switched off the air conditioning to save fuel. The fuel gauge was practically at 0.00. Here, in the middle of nowhere, they had no mobile network. The last Google message said that a petrol station would appear at some point. And Peter claimed that it should open in five minutes. Open from 10:40 am. Strange opening times. Edward's stomach grumbled. Something had gone wrong at breakfast. The car desperately needed a gas pump. And he needed a toilet just as badly. Then, like an oasis in the desert, a building appeared in the middle of endless cornfields and pastures full of stupidly staring cattle. It was 10:39:50 a.m. when Peter steered the car into the dusty gas station with the last drop of gas. At 10:40 sharp, Edward yanked open the car door and jumped out. And the moment his spotless Oxfords touched the ground, the neon sign flashed. Open!

Edward ran towards the little store where the neon sign was shining. He was far too intent on not wetting his pants to notice the leather soles of his shoes turning into a firm rubber tread. When he pushed the door handle down, he got something like an electric shock. He didn't care. The store was empty. His palm became calloused. His fingernails were black. There was a door at the back labeled "Private". Hopefully there was a toilet there. Thank God the door was open. And thank God there was a toilet. In the middle of a room full of tools, car tires and packages. It stank miserably. But Edward didn't care at all. He had already undone his belt while running, unzipped his trousers, pulled them down and dropped onto the dirty toilet seat at the last moment. And he had to shit like never before in his life. The stench was overwhelming. But the relief was immense. Edward finally relaxed again. But only for a second. Then his eyes fell on the dirty biker boots. They contained a pair of completely filthy jeans, pulled down as far as they would go. And what was even more irritating: his right hand was the hand of a construction worker, the sleeve of his shirt had disappeared. And the fabric of the right sleeve of his jacket was also coming undone. And on his chest and back, the color changed from a navy blue to a washed-out red. What the hell was going on here?

Even greater than the panic was the disgust at the stench. His left hand, still freshly manicured, reached for the toilet flush. And again he was hit by an electric shock. Panicked, he watched as his fingernails became dirty and his hand calloused. Edward's gaze fell between his legs. That wasn't his circumcised, shaved penis. That was a cheesy, hairy cock. Much bigger than it normally was. Edward had to get out of here! He hastily wiped his ass. A tight, hairy ass, sitting there on a familiar toilet seat. A man needs a good place to shit. Hehehe, this was a good place to shit. Stumbling, Edward stood up, his head spinning. He looked in the mirror. That was still his head. But the rest of him? His stiff white collar and tie knot vanished into thin air, revealing a well-toned chest. The last remnants of the finest navy blue wool on his upper left arm disappeared, and the transformation of his jacket into a washed-out and worn-out tank top was complete. I look like a fucking hillbilly, were his last thoughts before he grew a scruffy three-day fuzzy beard. His $100 haircut became a home-cut mullet. Damn, the greasy hair hadn't been washed in a while.

Loud honking from outside. "Damn, I've taken a shit! Can't you wait?" Edward shouted. He wiped his hands on the dirty cloth stuck in his pants. Washing hands was for sissies in the city. He entered the yard of his gas station.

Hehehe, he knew the dirty truck that was parked there at the gas pump. "Pete's services of all kinds" was written on the door. And Pete Jr. was hanging in the cab with a visible bulge. "Eddy, don't you always promise the best service at your gas station?" said Pete with a grin. Ed spat out the chewing tobacco and licked his lips. "Go ahead, gas station attendant. The belt buckle won't undo itself!"

Full service and guaranteed customer satisfaction. That's what Ed's gas station was famous for.

[beansprean]

after s5e8

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Aerial view, hips up, of Nandor laying in his coffin in his outfit from the end of season episode 8, arms crossed over his chest and a small smile on his face. 1b. Repeat. Nandor opens his eyes with a furrowed brow, mouth contorting in a frown as one nostril flares to sniff the air. A scent line wafts out of the coffin and across his nose, labeled 'eau de Guillermo'.

2a. Repeat. Nandor presses his mouth into a thin line and squints angrily at the side of his coffin, cheeks flushed and beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He has a wobbly speech bubble with ellipses as he contemplates. A keen eyed viewer may notice a subtle change in the folds of his tunic below the belt. 2b. Repeat. Nandor sits up slightly and throws open his belt and tunic, rucking up his undershirt and holding up the hem of his trousers with his left hand so his right can thrust itself inside. He bares his fangs in irritation, cheeks flushed purple, and mumbles, "Ayy, stupid penis... Alright, one more time." /end ID