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#powerful session this week
avianii · 6 months
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vaguely irritated every time I hear someone call my life depressing
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nohkalikai · 1 year
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i got somewhere w my fucking literature review
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overheaven · 6 months
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i’m grateful to my friends and family and lover for making me happy and giving me gifts and time but also i wish my birthday wasn’t fucking CURSED
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loverboydotcom · 8 months
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wrote out a whole thing about imagining as part of my writing process and how much of my first drafting is actually done internally but it sounded kind of obnoxious accidentally like “ummm guys well everything in my head is so vivid 👍” which i don’t think me experiencing writing in my head vividly is special it’s just what my brain does 👍 but anyway how much of a first draft is a first draft when i will write a passage in word but that passage has lived in my head for weeks sometimes months mostly written out because i will write out scenes in my head and just let them marinate up there and somehow I don’t forget it
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itsjustpoopeh · 5 months
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ngl I'm really enjoying all the new weewoo show watchers who are now starting season 5 for the first time
if it's any consolation... it gets worse
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essektheylyss · 2 years
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Also, I gotta say, because I did draft the results post in advance obviously, I DO fully understand how Sam's ad bits end up so absurd, like, the moment you commit to a bit you really just have to keep escalating, jesus christ.
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nejackdaw · 8 months
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Thinking about that time in our first campaign my character's dad (adoptive, a very important baron) almost died.
Apparently, he was supposed to. He was not supposed to survive contact with the lich. Don't even ask me how or why we got to the lich, genuinely all I remember is panicking because all of a sudden he had like five hit points and as the party schemer I had two thoughts that erased my awareness of everything else: (1) MY FUCKING DAD (2) THIS LICH IS GOING TO KILL US.
See, my job is finding ways to get us out of things, and as a wizard, I was well equipped to handle that. Except thought one, "MY FUCKING DAD," took priority over EVERYTHING ELSE. My little wizard was orphaned and down his only brother. This guy was all he had. His whole world. World's #1 dad.
... And the lich almost one shot him. He was collapsed on the ground and struggling for breath. This did not register as a cinematic moment to me because I was PANICKING. We roll initiative.
The lich rolls highest. I'm frantically looking through my notes to see what's available to me. Tries to kill me, too. Counterspell.
My turn. Throwing ALL CAUTION to the wind, plan only vaguely half formed, I run up to the baron and tell the DM I'm going to drag him back to the party.
"Your speed is halved from carrying him. You can't make it in 15 feet."
There's dead silence. Everyone is waiting for my response. Seconds of silence. "What are you going to do?" (DM speak for "please hurry up.")
"... I'm a tabaxi. I can make it in 30."
I double my movement speed and drag him back there anyway, to the confused relief of the party. Our sponsor (MY FUCKING DAD) is safe for right this second, but how are we going to fight a LICH?
"Anything else?"
"... I have a scroll of teleport in my bag. And I'm within 10 feet of everyone." Most importantly, I'd DUCKED BEHIND A WALL OF BARRELS AND CRATES so the motherfucker couldn't see me to counterspell.
There's dead silence for a few moments. The voice chat proceeds to blast my eardrums with excited cheering and laughing. The DM and I both pull up the spell. "Roll for it. Where are you going?"
"Home."
I roll a 99. We vanish from the lich's lair and are deposited, battered, bleeding, without guidance, in the charred, crumbled ruins of what had been the baron and I's residence. (It had not been that way until very recently. It was news to me.) There's relieved silence. There's an emotional reunion in what remains of our living room. I cast Tiny Hut in a defensible corner of the ruins after we all chat and we get what sleep we can.
(The DM would later confess that the baron wasn't supposed to survive and he had to change his plans now lol. We were supposed to be cut off from all resources at that point. My dad showed up in the final fight since he'd survived TWO murder attempts [ig the BBEG was the third lmao] and, well. I schemed then, too.)
#dnd#LET ME TELL YOU#the utter SILENCE. after 'you cant make it'#my heart was POUNDING. there was NOTHING to me other than this situation i was blind to the world#the DESPERATION when i remembered im a tabaxi and YES i COULD#but there were still other variables i had to account for#positioning. THE LICH. would the spell even work? where would we end up? we were out of almost everything#would i just drop us into another danger and it was all for nothing?#UGH#'i can make it in 30' i have never sounded so determined about ANYTHING in my LIFE#other schemes include 'suggest spell the enemy wizard give me his spell focus'#(he was too high level for us to fight but they wouldnt run. session ended mid combat and i spent the week plotting)#(roughly the decision was 'well he thinks were friends [charmed] and im ALSO a wizard so he wouldnt see an issue')#(dm had the spell wear off as soon as i grabbed it and we. two WIZARDS. played tug of war with the staff)#there was also 'i dont think we can destroy this magic rune about to explode but i can turn the table its on to ash'#not to mention 'hey i dont think we can fight that giant. phantasmal force loser' (we were in a narrow mountain pass)#(we were apparently supposed to fight him. the dm just had him show up when we went to go BACK through the pass)#update: it was phantasmal KILLER not force. i needed the fear effect so we could escape. i got the names mixed up#also i won the tug of war and proceeded to never use the magic item#now. the fully charged staff of power. well. thats a different story#rip the bbeg#oh this is. a long post i should add a read more#also on the slim off chance one of you recognizes this post no you didnt im not here
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farharbour · 9 months
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fuck spotify wrapped everyone share your steam year in review. here's mine (most normal achievement collecting enjoyer):
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vvirtue · 11 months
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really normal doodles coming out of today's monster of the week session. when i said they needed an effigy for the ritual, they decided to make a build-a-bear for it.
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msommers · 2 years
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riya already having two people crushing on her by session two
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tirednapentity · 1 month
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I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me and i don’t know how to fix it and i don’t know why i feel the way i do and i don’t know why I’m incapable of being a good person but i do know that i need more therapy then I’m currently getting which is none but the earliest possible appointment is NEXT MARCH so maybe I’m just fucked forever
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Oh god motherfucker PLEASE get it together your life is going so well right now please don’t ruin it
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sleep-deprived-person · 7 months
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So apparently KOSA (2024 edition) is getting either thrown out until next year or put into effect in six days. That was a guesstimate based on a different person saying that's when Congress is back in session and may be false.
Update that's going in the main post at the top: it has enough support to pass Congress.
It failed the last two times because people were voting against it.
This time, KOSA has traction among the pro-LGBTQ parties. Because nobody is fucking calling their bullshit and screaming from the rooftops that calling it the "Kids Online Safety Act" is misleading.
What will it passing do?
Nothing much, only prevent any education on LGBTQIA+ (it's that stupid fucking argument about us grooming kids again), shut down nearly every fandom space on the internet, and make it required for most big tech companies to have your ID.
Want to have resources for kids to discover their identity readily available? Yes? Then fucking speak up against this stupid fucking bill.
Fandom spaces like Tumblr, Twitter (? I thought the MAGA assholes liked Musk?), Tiktok, Archive Of Our Own, and any other website that hosts fanfic or fanart? Either shut down permanently, forced to uproot to a different country and down for a while (best case scenario, and they likely won't be able to send any data, and therefore fanfics, to the US), or gutted so that you only get to put G rated cishet ships on there, if any shipping at all. How to avoid that? I've already said it: Call your fucking representatives.
Want to avoid the fucking dystopic task of being legally obligated to give big tech your government issue ID? Again, cause an uproar. Call your goddamned representatives.
If they can pass this, the ripple effects could be catastrophic.
So, for fuck's sake, any Americans that can impact this stupid fucking bill and see this? Do everything in your power to shut it down because you have until February twenty sixth (26th) to send this bill back to where it belongs.
And if you can't do that? Reblog, copy my tags, and boost the signal.
Sorry not sorry for ranting, making you scroll through that, and swearing a probably excessive amount, but KOSA is a bill with a GLOBAL IMPACT being passed by ONE COUNTRY because some old people are scared of two guys with who were told they were girls kissing within five hundred miles of a child. Fuck this shit, I shouldn't have to worry about bad bills in America but I fucking do because I use the internet and would like to avoid mass censorship. Fuck this, fuck conservatives, and fuck the fact that some boomers make your country's policies.
Now, if you won't mind me, I'm going to be up until three in the morning downloading fanfiction or copying and pasting them into a a text file if I can't so I can read them by the end of the week.
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yanderenightmare · 10 months
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Nanami Kento
TW: yandere, NSFW, noncon/dubcon, inexperienced reader, virginity loss, size-difference, abuse of power, lies and manipulation, captive darling, age-gap
AN: thinking about a pervy sex therapist Nanami~
fem reader
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You started coming to his home office once a week. 
Unsure of it all, in the beginning, you were so nervous. He looked so strict – sitting opposite you in his dark brown leather chair with such a tight expression on his face. 
But you came around to like him soon enough. 
He was a nice man. Serious but tender with you – putting out freshly baked muffins on the coffee table and always giving you a warm cup of chamomile with vanilla and honey before getting started. 
And he was knowledgeable too – had that mature air about him that seemed so polished and proficient you couldn’t help but hang off every word like it was scripture.
When he told you to stop wearing bras because they hinder natural breast growth, you listened, and when he said that keeping your pussy hairless was important for hygienic purposes, you believed him because you trusted him.
He diagnosed you with virgin anxiety and has been so patient with you ever since, helping you overcome it.
Professional enough to practice with you. Sticking a gloved finger inside your pretty pussy when you’re propped on his examination bed, testing out your tightness with words reassuring you that you just need to wait and allow your body to provide the wetness – smiling at you kindly, that way old men do, more with his eyes than his lips, when you’re weeping with slick enough to accommodate all three of his lengthy fingers inside you – squeezing on him so tight.
You gush, shaking your head while spluttering apologies when you cum around them, but he just rubs your clit slowly, with veteran steadiness – telling you it's only natural and healthy for a young woman like you to be so sensitive under a man's touch – that it’s nothing to be ashamed or scared of – on the contrary, it’s something you should feel very proud of.
He’s also kind enough to give you extra sessions – at least three times a week at his home office – sometimes even breaking his own rules, treating you to a house call, coming to your apartment for a nice little chat. 
He even assigns you daily exercises for you to do on your own – though he encourages you to call him so he can guide you through it. Instructing you to wet your fingers in your mouth first before you touch yourself down there.
He listens to your little moans filtered through the phone – bated breaths and whimpers as you get yourself all bothered and needy for more. 
He tells you to turn on the camera so he can see if you’re doing it right, and you listen – placing the phone in view of your tiny fingers struggling to reach and stuff your cute cunt.
He praises you on your good job – his own camera off, for obvious reasons – he can't have you seeing his raging shaft just yet, or how he jerks it to the sight of your tight little cunt. A deep furrow between his brows and his jaw locked tight, resolute in his plans of coaxing you into giving him your first time. He groans just thinking about it, splurting his load into his fist, listening to you moan for him. “This feels funny, Nanami-san~ Is this right? ~ Please, Nanami-san, teach me~” 
He's been coveting your virginity for months now – grooming you – making you pliant and gullible, and soon, all his patience and hard work would pay off. 
It’s cute that you don’t know it yet… but your pretty little pussy is all his.
He expertly works it into your sessions as an exercise. One he promises you’ll benefit from. Telling you your condition can be blamed on never having studied a real grown man’s cock – that, because it’s such a foreign thing to you, you end up fearing it.
He reminds you how this is a safe space – tells you that all he cares about is your wellbeing – as he sets himself next to you on the couch, his thick thigh next to yours, while buckling up his belt and zipping himself free – taking his fat erection out for you to lay your innocent eyes on.
“Here it is.” He clears his throat with a rusty sigh, sounding relieved when his manhood springs free, standing proud and fat.
His veins flex along his arm beneath dark blonde hair as he strokes the length lazily – up and down slowly. Making old noises – heavy sighs and hums – dragging the foreskin back and revealing its plush mushroomed head.
You take it in with doe eyes.
“Don’t be shy. Tell me your thoughts.”
You swallow thickly at the assignment, blinking out of your stare. Shocked and embarrassed, though curious, but also a little grossed out – you’re not sure what feeling you end up with. “Uhm- It’s very… big.”
He chuckles low at that. “Come on, you can do better. What else?” He urges you, offering another deep but light-hearted laugh. “You can be honest. It’s a little funny looking, huh?”
“Yeah-” You giggle lightly in return, though you’re still somewhat uneasy – sitting as though you plan on leaving, but staying nonetheless, at the edge of your seat – eyes glued to the chubby member, studying the curve of its spine and the veins forking their way up to its head.
“Feel up to touching it?” He asks, and your eyes snap to his – lined with crow’s feet and something so trustworthy. 
But still, you promptly shake your head in embarrassment. “Oh- no, thank you, Nanami-san-” But he’s already taken your smaller hand in his, pulling you back by guiding it to his lap. 
“No, no, little one- this is what we've been training for. You won’t get better if you don’t try.” He scolds you, voice both dismissive and reassuring all at once. “Here- feel it.” 
He wraps your tiny fingers around the stout shaft and overlaps your hand with his, helping you find the rhythm – stroking it nice and slow. 
“There you go, just like that. Good.”
You hesitate at first. Giving your lip a soft bite while thinking about his previous words.
Was he right? Are you scared because you've never looked at or touched a real penis before?
You don't want to be a virgin forever – it's embarrassing as an adult – it makes you still feel like such a silly little girl.
So... if Dr. Nanami says that this will help you overcome your fears, then you suppose...
You'll do it.
You gulp and follow his movement – up and down the large and lengthy pole.
It's so warm – pulsing in your grip, twitching at your soft touch. Skin so thin, almost rubbery, holding something much tougher than you’d imagined.
In your hand, it’s a lot bigger as well. You can’t even reach your fingers around the thickness to touch your thumb.
“All of this goes inside me?” You ask, under your breath – swallowing thickly while he leads your dainty hand downward into the hair around his base, then up to the wet tip, which pilled and trickled with white pearls getting caught between your fingers – warm and sticky.
“That’s right, every inch.” He answers – voice relaxed – pleased by how well you were doing. “Does that scare you?”
You bite your lip and rub your thighs together. “A little…”
“But it makes you feel a little warm, too, hm?” He suggests. “Makes your mouth wet? And also, that soft place between your legs?”
You make a nervous sound, digging your nails into your knee, where you let your other hand rest awkwardly. 
He hums again with a soft chuckle. “Don’t be embarrassed, little one. It’s a good thing.” He ensures, encouragingly squeezing your hand underneath his while lifting the other up to your face, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear – before sliding it across the back of your neck. “Let's see you be brave and give it a taste.”
You hesitate again – this time a little more decidedly. “I don’t think I can-” But Dr. Nanami is strong, keeping your neck in a pinch as he guides you down into a bow.
“It’s alright, I’m here to help you. Just open your mouth, and I’ll show you how.” He insists soothingly. Spreading his thighs out further while laying your head down on his lap, hips moving languidly when brushing his shaft up between your lips. 
It’s so big, so hot, pumping with warmth where you kiss it on the side on a particularly fat and throbbing vein.
He lifts you up slightly and angles the tip into your mouth, creating a cute bulge in your cheek where he rests his hand to keep you down when you flinch at the salty tang getting caught by your saliva. The taste quickly coats your entire tongue.
“Mmh- that’s a big girl~ getting her first mouthful of cock.” Dr. Nanami sighs with a groan, dropping his head back against the couch cushions while pushing up into the pouch of your cheek in lazy thrusts. It strains – makes you feel like it might poke through and make a hole.
He lets it settle there for a moment, enjoying the wet warmth and the unsure movements of your sweet tongue – not knowing where to go with all the space occupied by his meat.
But then he tangles both hands in your hair, gathering it all into a neat ponytail. And, lifting your skull up directly above, he sends his cock down your guzzle even when you whine out in meek protest.
“Breathe through your nose and try your best to swallow it down as far as your throat allows.” He instructs, keeping a tight-knit grip around your hair in one fist whilst the other hand slides down to pet your cheek in soothing circles.
Forcing it down your tight little amateur throat even when your jaw feels like it’s unlocking. 
“Good girl.” He sighed once he’d wedged himself in all the way until your lips kissed the pubes at his base.
Your smaller hands dent the muscle of his thigh, offering a meager push. Mewing out a “Mrph-” while you gag around the trunk. 
He holds you there, roosting inside your throat for another satisfying moment before easing up, pulling you up by your pony.
You gasp, halfway choked on your spit – but he's not much concerned.
“Stand up- let me feel.” He rushes out in a stiff order, ignoring how you cough and slurp for air – forcing you up to stand between his knees. 
His firm hands plant themselves on your hips, being the only sturdy thing balancing you as you wobble – unsteady when he tugs your skirt and panties down until they drop into a pool around your ankles.
He then pulls you onto his lap – seating you with your back leaning against his chest with his cock gliding up through your inner thighs, rubbing against your bare cunt.
You’re still light-headed, bracing yourself against his broad chest while he keeps one thick arm strong around your waist – holding you snug. The other jerks his manhood, tapping it against your clit in soft spit-wet slaps.
“Let’s see how it feels inside you.” He grunts against your ear, resting his chin-stubbled jaw in the dip between your neck and shoulder – looking to where he has your thighs spread over his own.
“N-no, Nanami-san-” You manage to squeak out softly with a voice both teary and hoarse from choking. “Please- I’m not ready-”
But he doesn’t listen – and any struggle you try to inflict ends up aimless where you’re barred beneath his arm – strict and tough with brawn like it’s a seatbelt on a rollercoaster ride.
“I think you're more than ready for it. Trust me.” He’s growling now – so menacingly, you don’t dare speak against it. Only watching the glossy veiny beast with bleary eyes while he rubs through your pussylips with the fat plush bulge topping it – catching your clit and making you gasp before zoning down to your pretty little twitchy hole.
You whine when it’s forced to stretch open as he nudges himself inside the pill-sized opening despite your effort to climb away from it.
“It hurts, Nanami-san!” You cry, but he doesn’t pay it any mind.
“Your virgin pussy will understand it soon. Don’t worry.” He dismisses – continuing to ease his thickness into the tautness, knowing you must be feeling close to tearing apart once his head’s finally swallowed in with a pop, followed by his inches bullying through you one by one, each feeling like a painful mile. 
You cry out, nearly screaming, “Please, Nanami-san! Take it out- it’s too much-” worming on his lap, trying to wiggle it out.
But he has you under reigns, and your struggling only results in him sinking inside you faster. Now, so deep you feel him nuzzle against your womb – and still it keeps sleaving itself until it curves against your walls and pudges out in a cute belly bulge.
“We've trained for this. You need to allow your body the time it takes to get comfortable.” He coos, sounding less on edge now that you’ve taken him inside your comfort.
His chest rumbles with satisfaction against your back as he sits there relaxed, bouncing you slackly but not too much just yet.
He keeps you seated but lifts his other arm to tug off your tiny T-shirt. 
“Here, let's take this off. It’ll help.” He excuses, and you’re a little too desperate for the relief to refuse – listening to the kindness in his voice and lifting your arms in hope, letting him fling it off.
Only in socks now. You throw your head back and whine when he twists one of your pretty nipples into a sore nub – chest arching from the contact. The arm holding you in place slides a hand between your thighs and starts circling your cute button, flicking over it with a gritty fingerprint.
The friction makes your belly bloom all sorts of colors, making you lock and quiver around that big thing he has nestled inside you, throbbing against your womb as he only gently bounces you on his lap – stretching your little pussy out generously as it suckles him so very sweetly – so very wet, drooling on his lap –squeezing him oh-so-snug.
You feel sticky after a while of twisting and refusing. Feeling so full and feverish. Neck wet from tongue and lips – so wet, spit is running slow trails down your chest, cool in the chilly open air of his home office.
You still think you want to stop, but you’re not as tense anymore – resting prettily against his chest. Moaning for each swirl he does over your budding clit – having quaked with pleasure a whole of three times already, gummy walls rippling all along his shaft as you softly loll your hips on him in return.
There’s a pool of your slick between the two of you – having drooled form where it seeps around the tight edges of where he has you stuffed air-tight, running down his balls to gloss the leather seat beneath. 
He takes it as a sign that you’re ready for the real thing. 
It’s almost unfair – how easily your smaller body is held in his hands. Maneuvered so effortlessly as he lifts your thighs up against your chest, then spreads them wide. 
He hooks your knees on his elbows and braids his fingers behind your neck. It's an awkward position, but you’re completely locked in it. Unable to do a thing except wail with moans once he starts pistoning his fat man-cock up inside you. 
It’s way worse when he stands up – bouncing you in the air – holding you folded against his chest, your legs dangling over his arms, jumping as he pounds his meat inside you, stuffing your cunt full on every deep thrust – stabbing your poor stomach until you’re screaming and squirting from the pressure.
Feeling you soak him is the last straw – so tight while spraying a hot mess.
He sits down again, lifting you off his cock before fanning your clit with four fingers – making you gush out every last drop, screaming while raining on his cock until you’ve strangled it out one final time – left shaking.
You’re then ushered down to the floor, on your knees – the top of your head leveled with Dr. Nanamis's big hand, keeping your face forward as he faps his sturdy thickness at your mouth.
“Open your mouth wide.” He orders, his teeth grit while his bulbing cockhead kisses your lips. 
You listen when he gives your little head a shake – rolling your tongue out while dropping your jaw for him.
“That’s a good girl-” He praises, placing his tip on the wet bed of your soft pink tongue, giving his cock only a few more tugs before his balls clenched hard and sent a big fat load through his cock out into your pretty little open mouth.
He groans heavily, almost angrily, squeezing every spurt out – some coming out so heavy it spills up your face and down your chin – but mostly getting caught where you have your lips parted to receive it.
“Good girl.” He repeats, taking in the sight of your painted face – so cute covered in his cum. 
He smiles.
“Now swallow it all down. And don’t waste a single drop. It's rich in vitamins young girls like you need to become proper ladies.”
You don’t want to close your mouth – you want to spit all of it out and rinse the rest with toothpaste and water. But the hand petting your head is so heavy, you don’t dare. So you swallow. Sniffling at the yucky taste once it sits warm in your stomach, still so sticky and gross on your tongue.
But Dr. Nanami seems pleased.
“Moving forward, I think you’ll benefit from closer examination.” He says. “I've made arrangements to have you institutionalized here, where I can keep a closer eye on you and offer more frequent assistance. You still have a long way to go before you’re well, little one. I’m not close to seeing the results I need in order to release you from my care.”
You’re still too shocked by the former events to look confused, but the sick feeling in your gut just keeps growing.
“Don’t worry. We’ll keep training, and soon I’ll have you turned into a proper little cock-pet.”
You want to run, but after what you’re body had just been put through, aching and screaming at you like it was your fault – you knew you wouldn’t be able to do much more than crawl, and something about the still fat cock resting its weight against Dr. Nanamis thigh told you he wasn’t done with you just yet.
“Give my cock some time to rest, and we’ll try it again later.” He confirmed your fears, still with his hand stroking your head like a pet at his feet. “Meanwhile, why don’t you tell me how your sweet pussy liked losing its virginity- and how this little face enjoyed getting its first-ever taste of cock and cum, hm?”
sequel
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runa-falls · 4 months
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what a mess~
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pairing: miguel o'hara x reader cw: smut, established relationship, superhuman stamina, overstimulation, cum EVERYWHERE, 'use a condom, it's too messy X(', 'bitch stfu i'll show you messy'..., so many sheets, reader is a pushover (bc I WOULD BE TOO) wc: 1k + a/n: i um... just take this and I'll go to a corner of a room and think ab what I've done.
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Having a superhero boyfriend is great – he gets you discounts at your favorite restaurant, he easily carries you home after a long night out at the bar, he saves you from getting kidnapped by his arch-nemesis for the fourth time this month (though isn’t that his fault in the first place?....) – but there are aspects of the relationship that you didn’t consider before. 
Apparently, with great power comes great… stamina. 
To put it plainly, Miguel’s (sex) drive is unheard of. You better clear out your schedule for the whole day because he can go for hours. And most nights, you can barely sit up after he fucks you.
You like that – or you did when you could afford to be sore every other day. You like how enthusiastic he is – how much he wants you. It makes you feel desired and beautiful. But it’s not just the intense workout you risk every time you steal a kiss that turns into more – it’s the number of times he can…finish. 
Every time you think he’s finished, he’s still hard and thrusting into you, overstimulating you until black stars start to fill your vision. 
It’s a mess in the end. 
You lay on top of him, filled to the brim, dripping all over his lower stomach and onto the sheets under you, breathing so hard you’re sure you’d rupture a lung. You feel like you’re barely conscious on the bed as your heart beats harshly against your chest from how hard you came. Hair sticks graciously against your forehead as your eyes struggle to stay open to see Miguel, who gently pulls out and watches his mess spill out of you. 
He whispers sweetly of how well you took him, how pretty you look all fucked out, how much he loves that he can turn you into a blabbering – mindless whore. Being the possessive man he is, he attempts to shove it back in, using two of his thick fingers to gather and push his essence back into you, hoping that, against all odds, it’ll take, despite the fact you take your birth control religiously. 
Of course, when he sees how your thighs shake and squeeze around his hand from the overstimulation of him fucking his fingers into you after you just came, he immediately gets hard again. 
He gazes down at you with apologetic red eyes as he bites his lip under a sharp fang, “I can’t help it when I see how wrecked your pussy is for me…”
It’s nice – it’s hot – but you end up having to change the sheets 5 times a week. He’s insatiable… well ok, you’re just as thirsty as your boyfriend, but the amount of maintenance you need for each session is ridiculous. You basically gave up washing your sheets after every fuck, and instead ordered several identical sets of bedding to make the process easier. 
Many sheets have been destroyed beyond recognition. Okay, maybe you’re being a bit overdramatic, but the amount of cum-stained sheets in your linen closet is insane. How are you supposed to hide this if you were to have guests over?!
After staring at the layers of folded-up and stained sheets that you’ve accumulated over the past few months, you decided you were going to do something about it. 
You can still have fun without the mess.
…right?
Miguel has you on your back at the end of the bed with your legs resting on the crook of his arms. You have on a cute little nightgown – white to symbolize purity (though what you were about to do was far from pure) – with nothing underneath. It was one you bought just to get a reaction out of him – and now you got it. 
He holds you open for him, regarding you like he would a special gift – though there’s nothing to really celebrate (unless you count his raging erection). He breathes harshly against your neck as he paints your skin with kisses and nips. You’re nearly folded in half with how closely he’s pushed against you, but you can barely recognize the mere tinge of soreness in your legs with how fluidly pleasure seems to travel from his lips down to the apex of your thighs. 
Miguel O’Hara, the strong, independent Spider-Man, is truly a mess in front of you. His once neatly ironed tie now hangs loosely around his neck, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned halfway down, and his hair a tangle of unruly curls. His fingers, now caressing your body, are already dripping in your slick from when he forced a couple of orgasms out of you right when he got home. 
You find a sense of satisfaction in the disheveled state of his appearance, relishing how his once meticulously groomed demeanor has been disrupted – how his eyes transition from their usual chocolatey brown to a striking blood red, how his lips swell sweetly with lust. 
Miguel groans deeply as he grinds his clothed hardness against your wet center, “Mm…I want you so bad.” He unbuttons and unzips his pants, sighing as he releases himself from the tight fabric. No underwear? 
“Wait, Mig." he pauses his movements, waiting patiently – prepared to do whatever you want. “Get a condom.” …Except maybe…that. 
“Condom?” He could barely hold back his sneer, but you could faintly hear the growl vibrate from his chest. 
“Mhm, we’ve been too messy lately. We can’t just keep buying new sheets every week!”
“...We could…”
“Miguel!”
“I don’t see what the problem is… this is just how it is.”
“But it’s too messy.”
“I thought my baby likes to be filled up…”
“...I-I mean, I do sometimes, but –”
“Don’t you like it when I get you all messy?” He leans in close, distracting you from denying him. “Have you dripping with me for days?” He presses closer, and you can feel his hard cock slip against your wetness, dragging against your sensitive clit. 
“Miguel.” You whine.
It’s so hard to deny this man.
“How about we just try to be more careful, hm?” He presses against you gently, nearly entering you, but not quite. It feels so good, the tip of him barely stretching past your entrance. 
“Okay…j-just this once though…” You surrender with a whisper.
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nadvs · 7 months
Text
cam girl (part one)
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.
» masterlist
+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*
“Make sure to bend down real low.” Rafe’s deep voice startles you.
You’re kneeling down as you fill the freezer with the groceries that were just delivered. You thought you were alone in the massive kitchen, but sure enough, Rafe is taunting you again.
You don’t even need to turn to look at him to know he’s wearing a self-satisfied smirk. A depraved part of you is excited he’s there.
“Is there anything I can get you?” you mutter, your attention still focused on your work. It’s your go-to phrase whenever he bothers you. Professional, but not exactly friendly.
“Yeah, is that the only uniform they give you?” he asked. “You don’t have anything tighter?”
You stand and turn to finally look at him. His baseball hat is on backwards and his arms are crossed, large biceps bulging beneath the hem of his t-shirt.
You smooth down the loose gray knee-length dress you’re wearing and you swear he’s undressing you with his coy blue eyes. You hate that it arouses you when he looks at you like that.
You’ve gotten used to Rafe teasing you. You’re almost sure he gets off on degrading you. There are other maids but you’re the only one he does this to.
“Nope, this is it,” you say curtly. If you didn’t need this job, you’d cuss this man out. Probably even slap him. But you need to stay cordial, and he knows that, riding the power trip whenever he can.
“Too bad.” Rafe knocks on the kitchen island before turning to leave. “I can tell you’re hiding a nice ass under there.”
You feel your cheeks burn as you go back to work. You only come to work at the estate on Wednesdays and Saturdays and the days can’t go by fast enough.
You appreciate every dollar you can make these days as a struggling college student. Thankfully, your other job as a cam girl has been bringing in more and more money.
After you finish up your day at the Camerons’ estate, you drive your rusted, old car to your apartment in the south part of the island. The space is tiny, but it’s yours, and it’s good enough for now.
You go live for half an hour at 10 pm every other night of the week. Getting your start as a cam girl took some time, but now you have 32 subscribers and are starting to make good money off the website.
Tonight, you’re dressed in a black push-up bra and matching thong. You never show your face higher than your lips, refusing to risk anyone recognizing you.
This is just for the money, although you can admit to yourself that you find pleasure in knowing you can turn on so many strangers with your body. You sit on your bed, your toys ready off-screen.
Over your last session, a new user with the screen-name figure8 joined your chat. It threw you for a loop for a moment, prompting you to worry it was somebody you know from the Kooks’ part of the island, but the chances are slim. Figure 8 is a general term and the man could be from anywhere.
“Hey,” you say slowly. “How was everyone’s day? Mine was so long.”
figure8 didn’t say anything the other night, just watched and subscribed at the end of the stream, but tonight, he types something a minute into the session as you sit in front of the camera, running your hands over your satin bra.
figure8: you gonna show those perfect tits?
You giggle, immediately stepping into your cam girl persona. You check to see that twelve users are now viewing your stream.
“You’d like that, huh?” you ask, peeling off a bra strap. “Anyone else wanna see what’s underneath?”
You notice the bouncing dots on the screen that tell you that viewers are typing.
v2bo: yes
dragon89: take it off
stonyon: play with your tits
You strip off your bra, touching yourself, your breath hitching as arousal tightens in your core.
Without hesitation, you picture Rafe’s hands on you. He’s always on your mind during your cam sessions as you impulsively imagine his broad frame on top of you, dominating you.
You try to play it off when he taunts you at work, but it’s not until you’re touching yourself that you realize just how much it turns you on when he talks to you the way he does in his deep, mocking tone.
figure8: you like to get your tits played with?
You smirk, surprised someone is asking you what you enjoy. Typically, viewers like to simply compliment you or order you around, but you never get asked about your preferences.
“I love getting my tits played with,” you purr.
You press your arms to squeeze your tits together.
figure8: you like a cock between your tits don’t you princess
The sexy nickname makes you quiver a little. You bite your bottom lip.
“I’m so wet already,” you moan. “And thinking about a cock right here…”
You take a dildo you keep off-screen and place it between your tits. You part your lips as you rub the toy up and down, hearing the chimes of tips from your chat coming in.
figure8: bet you’re so good at sucking dick. i’d fuck your tits and that pretty little mouth so nicely
“You wanna see how I use my mouth?” you tease.
v2bo: deepthroat
You put the tip of the dildo on your tongue, flicking and rolling it. When you finally put your mouth around it, you close your eyes, thinking of Rafe in his kitchen, thinking of getting on your knees and sucking him off.
dragon89: put it in your pussy
A new notification pops up on your screen: figure8 is requesting a private show. Your heart-rate skyrockets.
You’d never gotten the request before. You had set the rate at $250 for a private session, half-expecting that you wouldn’t get any takers. You’re excited about the money and the fact that this new, intriguing viewer is the one who requested it.
You quickly type privately to figure8: This session ends at 10:30 and then I’m all yours, baby.
You continue to play with the dildo using your mouth, getting it wet all over, when a private chat comes in from figure8: how much for u to end the live and go private with me right now?
You don’t want to risk asking for too much and scaring the man away, but the possibility of making more in a private session than you would in a live one is compelling.
You never know much the live sessions will bring, but a private show is guaranteed money. Ending your session early might piss off your subscribers and maybe even make you lose some of them… but you impulsively reply: $1000.
Within a few seconds, you get a tip notification.
figure8 tipped you $1000.
You quickly end your live session, deciding to later tell your subscribers that your internet went out, then open the private session with figure8.
“Hello,” you whisper. “You want me to be your own personal toy, huh?”
figure8: i dont like to share
You laugh. If he’s willing to continue to pay you for private sessions, you’re happy to oblige.
“What would you like to see?” you ask. “You wanna see how I’d suck your cock?”
figure8: tap it against your mouth
“You’d tease me, wouldn’t you?” you whisper. You tap the dildo on your lips, sticking out your tongue.
figure8: princess i’d go so slow with you until you’re soaked and begging for my cock
You feel yourself get wetter reading his words. He’s not like any of the other viewers you’ve had. He’s asking what you like, calling you a sweet name, not rushing anything.
“You want me aching for it, huh?” you purr. You put the dildo in your mouth again, slowly sucking and slurping.
figure8: that mouth is so fucking pretty
You continue to lick and suck, moaning on the toy, your panties drenched now.
“I want it inside me,” you say, realizing you’re not even speaking through your persona anymore. You’re actually turned on by him, actually wanting to fuck yourself with the dildo.
figure8: not yet. keep sucking it
You giggle, half-frustrated, and obey him.
“You touching yourself right now?” you ask.
figure8: yeah. wanna see?
You have the option of enabling media from viewers, but you never thought you’d want to see a stranger like that. But this man is something else. You click on the button to allow him to send you a photo.
“Send it so I can imagine you hard in my mouth,” you purr.
A few moments pass before the picture comes in. He’s lying down in bed, showing a bit of his toned stomach, his large hand at the base of his dick. It’s thick and long and so damn perfect.
“Shit,” you whisper. “Such a nice cock. I don’t think I could fit it all in my mouth.”
You’re not just saying it to flatter him. He’s huge.
figure8: you could if you tried hard enough
You lick your lips, pushing the dildo deep into your mouth, gagging a little.
figure8: the way you choke on it is so hot. fuck
“How am I doing?” you coo.
figure8: such a good girl. let me see how you touch your pussy. keep the panties on
The praise makes you ache for it even more. This started off as a job, a way to make money, but now you’re genuinely excited, wishing this guy could fuck you for real.
You tilt your laptop down, spreading your legs in front of the camera as you sit on your bed. Your thong is still on, but it’s see-through. You watch yourself on the screen, tits still in view as you put your hand over your pussy.
figure8: be slow with it
“You’re torturing me, you know,” you giggle. “I’m not a patient girl.”
figure8: i’ll make u be patient. i want u to beg
“Please let me take these panties off,” you whimper. “I need to touch myself.”
figure8: put your panties to the side
You obey, moaning at the pleasure of your fingers finally on your clit. You rub in circles and up and down, trembling.
figure8: wish i could eat you out right now. you want my mouth on your pussy?
“Fuck, I’d love that,” you say, imagining Rafe looking up at you through his beautiful eyes as he licks your pussy.
figure8: show me how wet you are. put your fingers up to the camera
You do as you’re told, showing him your wetness as it shimmers in the white light from the screen.
“See how much you turn me on?” you say.
figure8: take the panties off and stretch out your pussy lips
You eagerly slide your underwear off and throw them beside your bed. With your legs spread again, you pull your lips apart, giving him the perfect view.
figure8: good girl. you listen so well
You get a notification that he tipped you $500. You never thought you’d make this much money in one night.
“Thank you, baby,” you giggle. “You love this pussy, huh?”
figure8: ur so fucking perfect. i want to cum inside u. put the dildo in nice and slow, princess
“Finally,” you say. “Your cock would slide in so easily right now. I’m so fucking wet.”
The toy fills you perfectly, making you quiver. You start to slowly thrust it in and out, but the chat chimes again.
figure8: i know you’re needy but i said slow. put the dildo in and move your hand. i wanna see it inside you
“Sorry,” you tease. You move your hand so he can see the toy inside you. You watch yourself in the screen, the dildo hugged perfectly between your walls.
figure8: you’d squeeze my cock so fucking well
“What if you’re too big for me, hmm?”
figure8: princess we’d make it fit
You’re nearly writhing at this point. You scroll back up to see his nude photo again, imagining it inside of you.
“Your dick is so fucking nice,” you groan.
figure8: show me how you like to be fucked. make yourself cum. don’t fake it. i wanna hear u cum for real
You obey, thankful he’s finally letting you orgasm. You hold the base of the toy and plunge it in and out of you, the lewd sound filling your bedroom, and use your other hand to rub your clit. You whimper, making sure to keep your face out of frame, imagining this stranger thrusting into you.
You let the sounds of pleasure spill out of your mouth, uninhabited, knowing he’s stroking his dick to you right now.
The orgasm hits you hard, your legs shaking. You’re panting as you look at your screen to see what he said.
figure8: i just came so fucking hard
“I wish your cum was inside of me,” you say breathlessly. You try to catch your breath as he continues to type.
figure8: what’s ur favorite position?
“Doggy,” you say, surprised he wants to know more. “What’s yours?”
figure8: thats mine too. you can show me next time, princess
“You wanna do this again, huh?” you tease.
figure8: i dont want you showing your body to any other guy. i’ll pay you double what you make on your streams if you only do private shows for me
The idea intrigues you. It’s sexy how he doesn’t want to share you at all.
“How often you want to do these, baby?” you ask.
figure8: every night. i’ll give you 1000 for every show and tips for when you deserve it. i want to buy you some things and watch you use them. you’re mine and mine only
The thought of making $1000 a night is unbelievable. This guy is loaded with cash and wants to spend so much on you.
You would lose the following you worked hard to get, but you’d undoubtedly make way more money being this man’s personal cam girl.
“Deal,” you finally say with a disbelieving laugh. “Same time tomorrow?”
figure8: don’t be late
The chat window notifies you that he left. You’re still breathless, shocked at how you didn’t have to fake the orgasm with him.
You scroll to find his dick pic again, as if you’re addicted to looking at it. You turn your camera off and now that you can angle your screen up, you can take a better look at the image.
Your stomach drops. The gold ring around his forefinger. The bedsheets you change twice a week. You know who it is.
The man you just orgasmed with was Rafe.
{ read part two here }
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