#so even if it's not a sure bet it's better than zero

[hy6erion]

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭! - 𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬, 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫, 𝐌𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐚, 𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐕𝐢𝐤, 𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐌𝐞𝐥

⇢ 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭, 𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢, 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲/𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲(𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲) 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐩 (𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞), 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞/ 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐢𝐝𝐤 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦 𝐨𝐦𝐥. 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞....໒( ᓀ ‸ ᓂ )७

Sugar Daddy! Jayce who meets you by complete accident. You weren’t looking for a sugar daddy, but Jayce was definitely looking for someone to spoil. Maybe you worked at a café near his office, your customer service smile making his heart stutter every time he came in for his overpriced espresso. Or maybe you were a friend-of-a-friend at some fancy charity gala, out of place in a dress you borrowed just to blend in. Either way, he clocked you instantly—soft, sweet, and so tempting. And when he heard you offhandedly mention needing a little extra cash? Well. That was an opportunity he wasn’t about to pass up.

Sugar Daddy! Jayce who is shameless about his wealth. He won’t outright flash cash in your face, but you’ll know within the first twenty minutes of talking to him that he’s rich-rich. Designer suit? Custom. Car? One of many. The watch on his wrist? Costs more than a year’s rent. He’s not bragging—he just enjoys nice things, and he wants you to enjoy them, too. He loves watching your eyes widen when he hands you a little shopping bag with something pretty inside, murmuring, “Go on, baby, open it.”

Sugar Daddy! Jayce who doesn’t do subtle. He doesn’t just send you money—he wires it directly into your account with zero hesitation. No sneaky Venmo requests, no waiting for you to ask. You’ll wake up to a casual $5,000 deposit with a text that says, “Get yourself something nice, sweetheart.”

Sugar Daddy! Jayce who makes it clear from the start that this is all on your terms. If you just want a platonic arrangement? Fine, he’ll be your generous benefactor, no problem. But if you do want something more? If you want to let him kiss down your throat after a fancy dinner, press you into silk sheets in a penthouse suite, murmur filthy things against your skin while he unzips your dress? That’s even better.

Sugar Daddy! Jayce who is so goddamn weak for you. If you so much as pout at him, he’ll cave. You could say, “Jayce, I saw these earrings—” and he’s already pulling out his card, nodding, “Get them, baby. And the matching necklace.” If you bat your lashes at him and whine about being cold? He’ll drape his expensive coat over your shoulders and hold you close, grumbling, “Gonna have to start keeping you wrapped up in furs, huh?”

Sugar Daddy! Jayce who loves showing you off. You’ll never feel out of place on his arm, even at the most exclusive events. He’ll make sure you have a closet full of luxury, and he lives for the moment you step out in something new, watching his friends’ eyes go wide. “Damn, Jayce, where’d you find her?” And he’ll just smirk, pulling you in close and murmuring in your ear, “They’re all jealous, sweetheart.”

Sugar Daddy! Jayce who gets filthy when he’s had a few drinks. After a night out, he’ll press you against the door before you can even get your shoes off, his lips hot and desperate against your neck. “You look so fuckin’ good in that dress, baby… but I bet you’d look even better out of it.” If you let him? He’ll pull you into his lap, his voice dropping into a needy rasp as he grinds you down against his cock. “C’mon, sweetheart, lemme take care of you. You know I love spoiling my girl.”

Sugar Daddy! Jayce who gets possessive in bed. He’ll never push, never demand, but if you let him? Oh, he’s gripping your thighs, spreading you open, and moaning about how pretty you look taking his cock. He’ll hold your face, make you look at him while he fucks into you, murmuring between ragged breaths, “You like bein’ spoiled, huh? Like knowing you’re mine?”

Sugar Daddy! Jayce who is completely whipped for you. If you ever call him while you’re out shopping, asking if you can get something? His response is always, “Get it, baby. Get two.” You wanna sit in his lap at dinner? He’ll pull you in without a second thought, smirking at how flustered you get when his fingers start idly tracing circles on your thigh. You wanna ride him in the backseat of his car after a long night? “Fuck, sweetheart, you don’t even have to ask.”

Sugar Daddy! Jayce who adores you, no matter what. You could come to him in pajamas, hair messy, no makeup on, and he’d still look at you like you hung the damn moon. He loves how soft you are, how warm, how sweet. And if anyone ever tries to disrespect you? Well. Let’s just say Jayce doesn’t mind throwing money—or a punch—to protect what’s his.

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Sugar Daddy! Viktor who wasn’t looking for a sugar baby, but somehow ended up with you anyway. Maybe you were a barista at his favorite café, always slipping him extra sugar packets when he looked tired. Maybe you were a broke student struggling with tuition, and he overheard you venting about how you might have to drop a class. However it happened, he found himself saying something like, “I could help, you know.” At first, you thought he was joking—until he was wiring money into your account without a second thought.

Sugar Daddy! Viktor who acts like it’s completely normal to fund your entire lifestyle. Need rent money? Already transferred. Want a new laptop? He’s sending links to the best models. Thinking about quitting your job because it’s exhausting you? “Then quit, darling. I’ll take care of it.” He makes it sound so logical, as if it only makes sense that he should provide for you.

Sugar Daddy! Viktor who has a soft spot for your little indulgences. You mention wanting a new perfume? It’s on your dresser the next day. You offhandedly say you miss a certain snack from your childhood? He finds a way to get it imported. You could be scrolling online, sighing wistfully at something, and he’ll just smirk, “Do you want it, or are you going to make me guess?”

Sugar Daddy! Viktor who loves spoiling you in ways that feel personal. He’s not flashy like Jayce, but he pays attention. If he notices you’ve been stressed, he’ll book you a spa day. If you have an important event, he’ll arrange for a stylist. And if he sees you shivering even slightly? He’s wrapping his coat around your shoulders before you can protest, murmuring, “There. Better?”

Sugar Daddy! Viktor who is a little condescending about how much you need him. He likes that you rely on him. He enjoys the way you come to him for everything, his voice dripping with amusement whenever he says, “You’re quite helpless without me, aren’t you, darling?” And if you try to deny it? He just smirks and tucks a wad of cash into your pocket. “Then by all means, don’t spend it.”

Sugar Daddy! Viktor who gets off on the power imbalance, just a little. He’s not cruel, but there’s something about knowing you depend on him that makes him shiver. The way you lean into his touch when he strokes your cheek, the way you bite your lip when you ask for something, the way you thank him so sweetly—it all makes him ache with possessive need.

Sugar Daddy! Viktor who turns into a menace when he’s teasing you. He’ll let you sit in his lap, but only if you can behave. He’ll take you shopping but make you ask properly. He loves drawing out your desperation, whether it’s for money, gifts, or even just his touch. “You want something from me, don’t you? Then use your words, sweetheart.”

Sugar Daddy! Viktor who is surprisingly rough when he finally gives in. He spends so much time being controlled, being composed—but when he wants you? That control shatters. He’ll pull you onto his lap and grind you against his thigh, his breath hot against your ear. “Is this what you wanted, hm? My hands on you? My cock inside you?” He’s a mess when he fucks you, panting, “Mine. You’re mine.”

Sugar Daddy! Viktor who makes you say it. He loves hearing you acknowledge your dependence on him, whether it’s a simple, “Thank you, Viktor,” or something far filthier. His favorite? “I belong to you.” Say it while he’s fucking into you, while you’re clinging to him, while he’s got your thighs trembling—and he’ll give you anything you ask for.

Sugar Daddy! Viktor who has no problem reminding you who takes care of you. If you ever try to push his generosity away, he’ll tilt his head, amused. “Oh? You don’t need my money? Interesting. Tell me, how much was that dress you’re wearing? Those shoes? That pretty necklace?” And when you have no answer? He’ll just chuckle and press a kiss to your forehead. “That’s what I thought, my dear.”

Sugar Daddy! Viktor who is possessive, but in a quiet, inescapable way. He’s not loud about it, but you know he doesn’t like sharing. If someone flirts with you, he won’t cause a scene—he’ll just wrap an arm around your waist and murmur, “Having fun, darling? Or should I remind you who really takes care of you?” And if you so much as hesitate? He’s pulling you into his lap the second you get home, his grip firm on your hips. “Mine.”

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Sugar Mommy! Mel who chose you the moment she saw you. You didn’t find Mel—Mel found you. Maybe you were serving drinks at a high-profile event, your uniform neat but clearly a little worn. Maybe she caught you in the art gallery, staring longingly at a piece you could never afford. Whatever it was, she saw potential. And when she saw you hesitate, checking the price tag on something as small as a cocktail, she made her move.

Sugar Mommy! Mel who is effortlessly smooth about it. There’s no awkward “Hey, do you want a sugar mommy?” conversation. No, Mel makes you want it before you even realize what’s happening. She invites you out for drinks, orders the best wine without glancing at the menu, and when the bill comes? She doesn’t even look at it. Her generosity is so casual, so natural, that by the time she’s slipping a sleek black card into your hand and saying, “Use it whenever you need, darling,” you already know you belong to her.

Sugar Mommy! Mel who doesn’t just spoil you—she elevates you. She doesn’t want to simply throw money at you. No, she wants to transform you. Your wardrobe? Remade. Your living situation? Upgraded. Your confidence? Unshakable. She doesn’t just buy you things—she molds you into someone who turns heads just by walking into a room.

Sugar Mommy! Mel who has exquisite taste and expects you to match it. If she’s taking you to dinner, she’s sending you to a stylist first. If you’re attending an event with her, she’s having something custom-tailored for you. And if you dare show up wearing something less than perfect? She’ll simply smile, brush her fingers along your collar, and murmur, “We’ll have to fix that, won’t we?”

Sugar Mommy! Mel who loves to tease you about your newfound luxury. If you ever hesitate before accepting something, she just tilts her head, amused. “Don’t tell me you’re feeling guilty, sweetheart. What else is all this wealth for, if not to indulge you?” She lives for the moment you finally let go, when you stop questioning whether you deserve it and just accept that you’re hers.

Sugar Mommy! Mel who adores the power imbalance. She doesn’t shove it in your face, but she knows exactly what she’s doing. She loves how small you feel in her world, how much you need her. And when you get overwhelmed by it all? She strokes your cheek, kisses you softly, and murmurs, “Shh, darling. You don’t have to worry about a thing. That’s what I’m here for.”

Sugar Mommy! Mel who absolutely wrecks you in bed. The same careful, refined Mel who speaks in perfect, elegant tones? Gone. In her place is someone who commands you, who takes what she wants while making you beg for it. She’ll have you spread out on silk sheets, one manicured hand between your thighs as she hums, “Tell me, sweet thing… do you think you’ve earned this?”

Sugar Mommy! Mel who has a wicked streak when she’s in the mood to tease. If you so much as think about bratting, she’s laughing softly, shaking her head. “Oh, darling. You do know that acting out only makes me want to punish you, don’t you?” And punishment? It’s slow, drawn-out, deliberate. She’ll have you squirming, begging, unable to think of anything but her voice purring in your ear, “Good girls wait, don’t they?”

Sugar Mommy! Mel who makes you say thank you for everything. She loves hearing it slip from your lips—breathless, needy, desperate. Whether it’s for a new dress, a new car, or the way she’s got her fingers buried inside you, she expects those two little words. “Thank you, Mel.” And if you forget? She just smiles, kisses the corner of your mouth, and whispers, “Try again, sweetheart.”

Sugar Mommy! Mel who never lets you forget that you belong to her. You can flirt, you can tease, but at the end of the day? She owns you. And if anyone tries to overstep? If someone gets too bold, too familiar? She won’t make a scene. She doesn’t need to. She’ll simply pull you into her lap later that night, her fingers tracing your skin, her voice velvet-soft as she murmurs, “You’re mine, darling. Say it for me.”

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Sugar Daddy! JayVik who didn’t intend to share, but once they saw you, they couldn’t help themselves. At first, Jayce and Viktor had no reason to entertain the idea of a sugar baby. They had each other, they were successful, and money was never an issue. But then you entered their lives—maybe as an intern, maybe as a struggling student, maybe as someone who simply caught Jayce’s eye first. He was the one who started it, offering little gifts, slipping a card into your bag, but Viktor? He was watching. And when he finally spoke up, smirking at Jayce’s obvious infatuation, all he said was, “Are you going to keep her all to yourself, or should I have a taste?”

Sugar Daddy! JayVik who balance each other out perfectly in their spoiling. Jayce is the grand, dramatic one. He wants to take you on vacations, buy you expensive jewelry, show you off. Viktor, on the other hand, is calculated in his generosity. He doesn’t just buy you gifts—he curates them. He watches what you linger on in stores, what you sigh wistfully over, and makes sure it’s waiting for you before you even ask. Together? They create a perfect storm of indulgence.

Sugar Daddy! JayVik who both love watching you get used to luxury. Jayce gets all giddy when you finally stop hesitating before spending their money, while Viktor just smirks knowingly when you start accepting their gifts as a given. “Ah, you’re learning,” he murmurs, slipping a designer bag into your hands. “Took you long enough, darling.”

Sugar Daddy! JayVik who are so different in their possessiveness. Jayce is obvious—wrapping an arm around you in public, grinning as he introduces you as their girl. Viktor, on the other hand, is more subtle. He doesn’t need to declare anything—he simply reminds you in quiet, inescapable ways. A hand at the small of your back, a murmured “Ours, aren’t you?” when someone looks a little too long.

Sugar Daddy! JayVik who both love teasing you, but in very different ways. Jayce is playful, teasing you with gifts, making you ask properly before he spoils you. “You want me to buy it, sweetheart? Gotta hear you say please.”

Viktor is downright mean with his teasing. He’ll withhold just to hear you beg, just to see that little desperate pout. “You can have it, my dear. But only if you prove you deserve it.”

Sugar Daddy! JayVik who have a very interesting dynamic when it comes to sex. Jayce is loud, desperate, needy. He whimpers, begs, gets completely lost in the feeling of you between them. Viktor is quiet, intense, commanding. He doesn’t just fuck you—he studies you, learns exactly what makes you fall apart.

Together? You don’t stand a chance. Jayce is moaning in your ear about how good you feel, how perfect you are, while Viktor is holding your chin, forcing you to look at him as he murmurs, “You can take more, can’t you, darling?”

Sugar Daddy! JayVik who are both insatiable when it comes to you. Jayce can’t keep his hands off you, always pulling you into his lap, always kissing you just a little too deeply in public. Viktor, on the other hand, is more restrained—but that only makes it worse when he finally snaps. When he does decide he wants you? He’s relentless, murmuring filth in your ear while Jayce is already a mess beneath you.

Sugar Daddy! JayVik who both make sure you never forget who you belong to. Jayce does it with his enthusiasm, always touching, always reminding you, “You’re ours, baby. No one else gets to have you.” Viktor does it with his control, holding your chin, tilting your face up so you have to meet his gaze as he murmurs, “Say it for me, sweet thing. Tell us who owns you.” And when you do? When you moan, “You—both of you, I belong to you,”—Jayce groans like he’s about to fall apart, and Viktor just smirks, pressing a kiss to your jaw. “Good girl.”

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Sugar Daddy! JayMel who saw you, exchanged a single glance, and decided. You didn’t stand a chance—not when Mel’s sharp eyes appraised you like something she was considering acquiring, not when Jayce leaned in with that easy, dazzling smile. Maybe you caught Jayce’s attention first—laughing at a bar, struggling to carry too many books at a café, hesitating before ordering the cheapest drink on the menu. But it was Mel who sealed your fate. One perfectly arched brow, one quiet murmur in Jayce’s ear, and suddenly he was approaching you, grinning, as if it was his idea.

Sugar Daddy! JayMel who make it feel effortless. Being spoiled by Jayce and Mel isn’t a negotiation. It isn’t something you ask for. It’s simply something that happens. One moment, you’re living your normal life, and the next? You’re drowning in luxury. A black card slipped into your hand with a casual “Use it for whatever you need, sweetheart.” A boutique owner greeting you by name because Mel already made arrangements. A reservation at the best restaurant in the city without you even realizing they owned it.

Sugar Daddy! JayMel who balance each other’s spoiling in very different ways. Jayce is the type to see you glance at something expensive and buy it immediately. No hesitation. No questions. He loves watching your eyes light up when he surprises you with something ridiculous. Mel, on the other hand, enjoys control. She doesn’t just throw money at you—she curates your life. Every gift is intentional, every change calculated. And she lives for the moment you realize she’s been shaping you into exactly what she wants.

Sugar Daddy! JayMel who absolutely love seeing you get comfortable with being spoiled. Jayce gets giddy when you finally stop hesitating before accepting their money. He’ll tease you about it—“See? Told you it feels good to be taken care of, baby.” Mel, on the other hand, is smug about it. She just hums, brushes a finger under your chin, and murmurs, “That’s a good girl. You’re learning.”

Sugar Daddy! JayMel who are both possessive, but in different ways. Jayce is obvious—arm around your waist, introducing you as “Ours”, glaring at anyone who even thinks about getting too close. Mel? She doesn’t need to be loud about it. She simply owns the room, and by extension, owns you. If someone oversteps? One look from her, one coolly spoken “I don’t believe you were invited to touch what’s mine,” and the poor idiot immediately backs off.

Sugar Daddy! JayMel who love teasing you together. Jayce is playful, laughing as he tugs you into his lap, whispering in your ear, “C’mon, baby, you know you like it when we spoil you.”Mel is cruel with her teasing. She’ll sit back, sipping her wine, watching you squirm under their attention before murmuring, “If you want something, darling, you’ll have to earn it.”

Together? You don’t stand a chance. Jayce is coaxing, tempting, urging you to ask for more, while Mel sits there like a queen, waiting for you to break.

Sugar Daddy! JayMel who are so different in bed, but both leave you ruined. Jayce is needy. He whines, groans, begs when Mel lets him have you, pressing desperate kisses against your skin, moaning about how good you feel. Mel is controlled. She studies you, learns exactly how to undo you, and then takes her time doing it. “I wonder,” she murmurs, trailing fingers down your stomach, “how long can we keep you like this?”

Together? They wreck you. Jayce is panting in your ear, telling you how perfect you are, how good you feel, while Mel is watching, smirking, murmuring, “Such a pretty mess, aren’t you?”

Sugar Daddy! JayMel who make sure you never forget who you belong to. Jayce says it, constantly, grinning against your skin, whispering, “Ours, baby. All ours.” Mel reminds you without words—a gentle grip on your jaw, a look that commands obedience, a murmured, “Say it for me.” And when you do—when you moan, “Yours, I’m yours”, Jayce groans like he’s about to fall apart, and Mel just smirks, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Good girl.”

[random2908]

My grandfather's grandparents were killed in a pogrom in 1920. The political setup was:

The Austro-Hungarian Empire had collapsed during WWI. So coming out of the war there was no real government of Hungary.

The intelligentsia class (doctors, lawyers, teachers) was somewhat Jewish, and somewhat communist, so a lot of the communist leadership in Budapest was Jewish. That was one of two major factions trying to create a government in Hungary starting from 1919 and over the next few years.

The other major faction was the far-right alliance of monarchists (mostly unpopular and pushed to the fringes of the movement) and proto-fascist nationalists (who would become actual fascists a few years later, once that movement fully congealed in Italy and then spread to surrounding nations).

To win hearts and minds, the proto-fascists claimed that they had the Hungarian people's best interests in mind much more than the communists, because the communists were Jewish.

To counter that propaganda--outside of Budapest itself where a lot of the communists were actually Jewish--the communist movement decided to kill as many Jews as it could find and redistribute all their property, to prove that they were more anti-Jewish than the fascists. The fascists thought this sounded like great fun, and so a contest was born, the two groups roving through the Hungarian countryside and killing as many Jews as they could.

It happened that it was the communists, rather than the fascists, who killed my great-great grandparents (beat them to death). I suppose this was inevitable: they were the head servants at a count's estate, which meant that they were among the least-poor people in a county where everyone was poor, so they were prime targets for wealth redistribution. (The count's property was untouched, because he was a noble, so it was all his by divine right.)

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

As for Trump, supporting Israel is not the same as supporting Jews. Most pro-Israel voters in the US are Evangelical Christians; there are more than twice as many Zionist Evangelical Christians in the US than there are Jews in the entire world. And the reason they're pro-Israel is because Israel needs to exist as a Jewish country in order for their apocalypse to start, at which point they (the Evangelical Christians) will be raptured safely to heaven and everyone else will die horribly and go to hell. (This sounds completely insane, but it's so central a part of their religion that they're happy to talk about it openly, if you ask them why they support Israel; they won't even bother hiding behind other platitudes or anything.)

But as someone above pointed out, Trump sure did say threatening things about Jews during his election campaign a few months ago. And he redefined Jews as a separate "nationality" during his first presidency--othering us and implying that we aren't fully American. Whatever he thinks of Israel, he is a danger to Jews.

(And honestly, what Trump thinks of Israel is that Bibi is a man very like himself. Someone who would go to jail for fraud and corruption if he lost his political hold, and is willing to do any unethical thing, up to and including dismantling democracy and killing large numbers of people, to evade justice. So Trump is personally friends with Bibi and supports him in every unethical and immoral act. Additionally, as evidenced by Trump's attempt at "Muslim bans" in his first presidency, he thinks dehumanizing Muslims is at the very least politically expedient, and possibly even something he personally believes in although it's always hard to tell what Trump really believes; and so will jump on opportunities to do so. None of this makes Trump any sort of ally to Jews.)

“trump isn’t antisemitic bc he supports israel” he supports whatever israel can do for him and the united states (in that order). “okay but he supports jews in the united states!” he is using us as a political tool as goyim often do. if he actually cared about dismantling antisemitism, he’d realize that superficially uplifting jews while leading a crusade against “dei” will only strengthen the left’s resentment of us. he doesn’t give a fuck about jews i promise lol

[medicinemane]

You know... fuck right off

For someone who's such a freethinker you sure fucking like following whatever narrative your figureheads set for you

Just cause it's antiestablishment doesn't mean you aren't still just blindly following

[the-flaneur]

the worst attempt of nnn ever

pairing: f1 grid x gn!reader [headcanon]

ft. the whole 2024 grid

summary: technically everyone wins, aka who's most likely to fail nnn the quickest

warnings: shitpost/crack, very suggestive content and some 18+, MDNI, NSFW -> smut

[masterlist] [requests]

fail first

lewis

this man has zero discipline when it comes to you

absolute zero, zip, zilch, nada

normally he's on you 24/7

but when it comes to the end of the season and most things have been tied up and he dgaf, what better way to end each week than by fucking your brains out

aka 25/8 times a week

so when you attempt to propose to do nnn "for fun" on the 31st, he glares at you, calls you dumb before fucking you silly overnight (until the 1st) so that you never suggest it again that month/year

(he also bribes other drivers and wags to make sure that you are NOT included in their nnn plans)

zhou

shockingly in second place

but only cause he loves you too much, finds nnn a weird tradition (when you explained the basics) and just wants to snuggle with you and sweetcorn in bed

like why make yourself unconfortable and horny when he could just be happy and satisfied (and still horny) with you :D

lando

man is so fired up about the championship battle that he doesn't entertain the notion and just fucks you the minute november starts just to make sure you know not to fuck with him

he only manages to hang onto longer than lewis and zhou cause he was tired and forgot what time it was

carlos

had planned on competing with lando, since they had done it the year before, and the year before that (aka when they were teamates)

but when he found out from you (who found out from lando's partner) that they had already failed, he said to try for a few days

you said you didn't want to

"but it might be good for us" carlos had complained, saying something no one had ever said

and so you just like seduced him like five days later then BAM WHAM, he's back to blowing your back out

not that he needed that much encouragement

pierre

just wanted to fuck you in peace for halloween after you showed up in a very hot outfit

but then charles was like oohhhh we should try this

(f u charles)

but then almost cried in the shower when he realised he couldn't jerk off either

you heard him whimpering, laughed about it and then sucked him off

he tried to hide it, but charles found out anyways

max

is usually too busy to fuck you during race weekends so, he just failed when he like normally fucked you

cause he wanted to fuck you

cause yeah...

so....yeah...

oscar

likes to pretend he's disciplined and has lots of mental restraint

(he doesn't have restraint when it comes to you)

tried to keep some distance, aka by not arriving together at the paddock

but then failed after he saw you with franco, got jealous, said f this shit and then took you in his driver's room

checo

didn't give two flying fucks

only got interested cause evens was talking about it

but throws the challenge out the windoow the minute you insinuate that he seems "weak" about you

kmag

thinks its childish but still wanted to try it

got actually comfortable with it, until you made a sexy joke

hulk

lasts longer cause kmag found it childish

but still wanted to try it too after kmag told him about it

ocon

just wanted to beat gasly

lance

wanted to fuck you

so he complained to his father about the challenge and how you were going give him a reward at the end

so evil stepmum kdrama style, lawerence comes in and tries to give you envelopes of cash to get you to fuck stroll

you gleefully refuse

you manage to negotiate three ashton martins, a ferrari laferrari, and more, before still teasing him

to which he just gives up, and waits for you

george

for those actually dedicated to doing it, he set up the betting pool and "official" rules

(no charles...touching and edging yourself is not "illegal" but you're running the sPIrIt of the challenge)

but like lost out in the second week, when he saw you were having an amazing hair day

said ok i wanna pull on it *with grabby hands* and then gave up

(everyone mocked him relentlessly afterwards)

valterri

super chill about it

tried it only cause you wanted to try it for fun

actually found it hard to be away from you (only cause you love him so much too)

but you managed to reach the third week before simply saying

"that's enough"

franco

had never heard of it

but defs wanted to try after he learnt a about it

got really pissed off by the second week cause you were also teasing him sooooo much

but you kept refusing

basically had to beg his way into convincing you "near" it, and only seeing him get really pouty did you give in

yuki

swears and glares daggers at you the entire three weeks

but he's gotta prove that big things come in small packages

and actually makes it almost to week four before passing out from sheer horniness

fernando

actually lasts longer than most people thought he would

(liam spitefully calls out that he thought nando's blue balls would fall off)

is happy he is technically the best wdc at nnn (even moreso that lewis lost first)

makes it to like the last couple of days

you get bored and tired

so now fernando is bored and tired and just fucks you

alex

certified genz brainrotter

ofc know what it is, and is demandin to win it and prove he's at least NOT a lost in one area (his words not yours)

makes it to the last few days, before you trick into letting you give him a handjob

tries to argue technicalities with george

but by then nov its over and he just gives up

charles

used all his ferrari training in patience to last this long

wanted to tell you to kys when you suggested it

but eventually he got soooo into doing it, he was policing you

however he losses cause he was stupid

you're on his jet

he forgets time zones exist

thought he won

sent a gloating text message to the gc

and [redacted] beats him on the technicality

liam

this man is going all in no regrets, gambling style 😎

even if he didn't propose it, he's definetly the most eager to prove himself (especially to fernando and checo)

he's setting up strict rules to ensure that his dick does not get anywhere near you when sleeping, eating or breathing

(in the last few days he desperately asks you to sleep in the guest bedroom cause he's this close 🤏 to caving in)

however, he resists and gets bragging rights over everyone for the rest of the year.

fail last/succeed

permanent f1 taglist (comment or msg me to join)

@charlesgirl16 @tallrock35 @sweate-r-weathe-r @unlikelystay @alex-wotton

@daisyfreecs @euphorihan @louloucs @oikarma @dying-inside-but-its-classy

@fadingcloudballoon

© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.

[yanderenightmare]

soft boyfriend headcanons with Gojo plez🥺

Gojo Satoru ! Boyfriend Headcanons

TW: tons of fluff ig, Set in a real-life au

fem reader

EARLY STAGES OF THE RELATIONSHIP

He’s not joking when he says it was love at first sight.

But, obviously, you brush him off as a total player.

Not convinced by his confession in the slightest, you reject him multiple times.

Like, come on… that’s the school’s number one pretty boy, known for having a new girl on his arm every other week or so. You have absolutely zero ambition of being one of them.

You laugh at all his silly gestures—dumb pick-up lines at parties, flowers, chocolates, and letters in your locker, flirty passerby compliments to and from in between classes. 

Oh, but then, cue the grandest of all gestures…

The public massive confession with banners, confetti, a lovesong in the background, and him with a megaphone in the middle of campus—professing his undying crush on you—down on both knees while begging you, “Please go out with me!”

You’ve never been more embarrassed in all your life. You feel like running away, but how could you say no in front of so many people?

And that’s how you end up on the first date with him.

He takes you to an amusement park.

You haven’t been in ages. It feels strange to be there on a date, older than any of the other kids you see running around with stressed parents on their heels.

It feels like a prank is being pulled. You’re waiting for the pig’s blood to fall. But halfway through, you somehow end up forgetting all about it.

To your surprise, Gojo actually seems like quite a genuine guy.

Sure, he’s more charm and flirt than deep conversation, but… you don’t know… there’s something really amazing about him too…

He doesn’t do anything inappropriate. 

The farthest he goes is holding your hand when pulling you along to the next rollercoaster. And asks to have a taste of your ice cream. He tells you that you have to name the plushie he won for you, Satoru—then pokes fun at how he tricked you into finally calling him by his first name.

It's funny, but you’d always thought Satoru was a pigheaded jerk, but it turns out he’s actually just a silly boy.

And there’s something really endearing about it.

It scares you at first—how fast and easily you fell in love with him.

You hadn’t wanted to—scared he’d drop you like he’d done all those other girls who came before you.

But then you find out—he hasn’t really dated anyone at all—all rumors made by those obsessed with him.

Sure, he’s been confessed to plenty of times, but he’s not about to jump into a relationship with girls he’s never even seen before.

That would be crazy.

“In all honesty, girls like that kinda scare me…”

You realize your perception of Gojo Satoru couldn’t have been any more wrong.

And you only stand to be corrected again and again the more you get to know him better.

He’s the boy version of “I’m not like other girls”

He doesn’t like meat, he likes sweets—for every meal. It’s concerning. 2 am convenience store runs are a constant occurrence with him. It’s a wonder he’s got the body he has—it’s that boy metabolism.

At parties, he doesn’t drink beer, he’ll drink little syrupy things instead. Oh, and jello shots. If they’re all gone, bet that most of than are in Gojo’s stomach.

But he doesn’t need to be drunk to be clingy and cuddly and needy and not afraid to show it. However, he does get sloppier after drinking—all but draping you with his entire weight, kissing any part of you he can get his lips on.

He confesses his love for you every day, hugs you every time he sees you, then whines about how he’s missed you—even when it’s just been a handful of hours since the last time you saw each other.

When Geto tells the two of you to get a room, Satoru only looks at him sourly and sticks his tongue out—blowing raspberries like a child.

And probably the most surprising…

He loves anime and manga.

Which isn’t really too much of a surprise in and of itself, only… you didn’t realize the extent of his love. In fact, it’s better called an obsession.

He isn't a cool guy at all...

He's a total nerd!

The first time you see his dorm room—it’s a total mess!

Manga literally litters the floor and bed, even the tall bookshelf he has is prop full.

What’s even more surprising is that Shonen Jump isn’t in the majority. No, it’s Shōjo.

He tells you his favorite anime is Ouran High School Host Club and insists you watch it with him. 

He sings the entire intro almost every single time—sometimes even the outro.

He says he identifies with the main character—which he obviously feels is Tamaki.

“You’d make a cute Haruhi, though—we should cosplay for Halloween~”

And he’s not even joking. He’s bought the costumes before you even agree.

Of course, no one understands who the two of you are supposed to be—dressed in the same school uniforms like two twins.

You also discover his harbored hatred for horror manga. Junji Ito gives him nightmares.

Though you managed to get him to read Death Note after pushing it on him for months.

He’s so cute—his only takeaway isn’t about the juxtaposing philosophies or any of the moral dilemmas but how “Suguru is so Light, and I’m definitely L.”

You find he’ll always do that—dib characters, almost always the main one.

It's a habit that reminds you of childhood, but it seems more than instinctual for Satoru. You don’t think he’ll ever grow out of it.

When he tells you he wants to be a teacher, you look at him with moon-big eyes.

He’s never seemed any interested in school—his grades are subpar, if not worse.

He never studies. There are no textbooks or the like on his desk, just more figurines and comics, as well as a dusty gaming station.

But when you take a second to think about it, the more it actually makes sense.

He's strangely great with kids. The girls all squeal over his charm, while the boys all cheer over his coolness.

You tell him he’ll be a great teacher, and he proposes to you on the spot.

SOME TIME INTO THE RELATIONSHIP

Obviously, you didn’t marry him back then. But you did finally accept being his girlfriend.

You live together now. Which is nice—not so different from living with your best friend.

Movie nights with candy and drinks—you’ve managed to sway him over to enjoy whine.

Rearranging things at home on a whim—often ending with a stupid layout—couch in the kitchen, where it will stay for a couple of days before you both find the energy to move it back.

You go shopping together and often end up buying things that don’t at all fit with the rest of the stuff at home—artwork, pillows, silly little decorations you just couldn’t leave the store without.

You share a lot of clothes too—hoodies, shirts, sweaters. Which he just loves.

He’s always gushing over you when you wear something he wore the day before.

He’s an ok cook. He can make the basics—wok, curry, ramen. His onigiri is never anything to post about, but hey, at least he actually cooks!

The clean-up is well… never small.

It doesn’t help that he’s always so sleepy after a proper meal, he just tugs you along to bed without putting the washer on.

Sleeping with you in his arms—all limbs tangled around you.

It’s funny, but you’d think with such a clingy lover-boy like Satoru, he’d come with a side of jealousy, but truly, you’ve never ever once seen that shade on him.

He’s excellent with all your friends and colleagues, even old friends and boyfriends you run into.

Instead of jealousy, he has this air of total ease—a certain smugness in a sense—as if there is nothing to worry about.

It's a trust that he puts in you—a quality that makes him seem so mature even when he often acts anything but.

Being with Satoru is strange. You often forget how old the two of you are. Somehow, he still acts the same way he did when he was in high school.

Taking you on amusement park dates, or to the movies to watch a children's film, or for ice cream in the park like you’re still teenagers.

He did end up becoming a teacher, though. Gojo Sensei.

Sometimes, he makes you call him that in the bedroom.

He teaches at the same high school you went to. He even brought home a girl’s uniform for you to wear.

You told him he was crazy if he thought you’d agree to that, but then… it was his only birthday wish. 

“You’re just as cute as you were back then—I can’t believe you’ve stuck with me all this time—I love you so much—”

Ten years older, and he really hasn’t aged much at all... 

Sometimes, he still cums in his pants after dry-humping.

Surprisingly, he really pulled his act together to teach both physics and gymnastics while sometimes subbing for philosophy.

It’s crazy, but he actually manages to make physics fun for the students. Several of them, even after graduation, still keep in touch.

It almost feels like the two of you already have kids.

But, of course, it’s nothing compared to when you actually see those two blue lines signaling your pregnancy.

You’re alone in the bathroom, rereading the instructions over and over. 

You hadn’t wanted to tell Satoru—he’d only insist on watching you pee and being there for the entirety of it. But now that you know for certain it wasn’t just a hunch, you really wished he was in there with you.

“TORU!” you yell.

You hear the struggle of slippery steps as he rushes, coming bursting inside in seconds. “What!?! What is it?! Are you okay?!?”

You only hold up the pregnancy test you’d kept secret you’d bought.

His eyes are as wide as they’d been when you’d agreed to move in with him.

“We’re pregnant?” he all but cheers.

The smile that erupts on his face is nothing short of ecstatic as he kneels before the toilet you’re sitting on, hands holding your thighs as he buries his face between them, chanting “Oh my god, ohmygod, omigod—” between kisses. “You’re serious? We’re really pregnant?”

When he looks up, he’s crying. “That’s so great—”

You have to cup his face in your hands for him not to fall apart.

And the sight is all so reassuring, you have to laugh through the tears on your own face.

You spent the entire day in bed. Satoru with his cheek against your belly and arms wrapped around you, and you with your hands running through his hair as you both discuss baby names.

Surprisingly, it had come as a complete surprise. Not just being pregnant, but the entire gist of it—having kids. 

Both of you have been so wrapped up in each other for the longest time—the thought of any other party had been completely lost.

On the other hand, you haven’t even gotten married yet.

Satoru doesn’t even have a ring, but he proposes to you then anyway.

And even though it’s so impromptu you have to laugh, you still say yes.

After all, you haven’t been able to imagine your life without Satoru for a long time.

Actually, you can’t even remember ever living a life without him.

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[itneverendshere]

Could you please write btchy!pogue where shes the one whos jealous this time and rafe savors the moment.

don't like the way she's looking - r.c

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x raf

the cut had a party tonight, like most summer nights.

the music was loud enough to shake the ground, beer kegs were getting drained faster than anyone could fill them, and people packed into the yard like sardines. 

it wasn’t fancy, but that was the point, pogue parties weren’t about appearances, you showed up, you drank, you made some bad decisions under the string lights, and you went home.

it wasn’t your favorite kind of night, but rafe had convinced you to come out, promising it’d just be a chill hangout. he lied.

instead of spending the night with you, he’s currently perched by his truck, surrounded by a rotating cast of pogues. you’re leaning against a beat-up picnic table, a half-warm beer in your hand, keeping one eye on rafe while he did his thing. 

by “his thing,” you mean selling weed to every pogue with a crumpled-up twenty and a dream.

to his credit, this is probably his best hustle yet.

rafe cameron, reformed asshole, and your probationary boyfriend, has somehow turned himself into the cut’s go-to dealer. it’s a whole thing, people like him now, which is fine. 

good for him, whatever, but some people like him a little too much. 

case in point? the girl currently throwing herself at him like a damn frisbee. you clocked her the second she strutted over. 

she wasn’t subtle about it, either—crop top hanging so low she might as well not have bothered, denim shorts so short they were illegal in some states. she’s leaning against his truck, like she’s in some fuck ass music video, her body language loud and clear. it’s the hand on his arm that does it for you. 

that, and her laugh. 

jesus, her laugh. high-pitched and fake, like a dying bird trying to flirt.

you’ve been rolling your eyes from the second she started talking, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. 

“you’re really good at this whole business thing, huh? bet you’re good at lots of things.”

you gag audibly from your spot, but of course, she doesn’t hear you. 

rafe, for his part, looks mildly amused but doesn’t say anything. still, you stay put, you’re not here to play babysitter. he’s not that stupid—he’ll shut her down. 

he better.

her next move is placing her hand on his arm. on. his. arm.

like she isn’t aware that his girlfriend is sitting fifteen feet away, the audacity. she’s batting her lashes and laughing at something he says like he’s the funniest guy alive, and you can see his shoulders stiffen, the slight step back he takes when she puts her hands on him.

“so, like,” she giggles, twirling a piece of hair around her finger, “what if i can’t, you know... pay in cash? ’m sure we could work something else out?”

rafe’s reaction is immediate, “i have a girlfriend.”

“oh,” her pout deepens. “that’s fine. she doesn’t have to know.”

at that, he laughs—an incredulous, slightly panicked laugh, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “yeah, see, that’s not gonna work for me.”

she doesn’t take the hint. 

instead, she tilts her head, giving him what you’re sure she thinks it’s a seductive look. “c'mon, rafe. it’s just a little fun, bet she wouldn’t even care.”

you freeze mid-sip of your beer, brain short-circuiting.

you slam it down on the table so hard it splashes everywhere, your vision zeroing in on her like a predator spotting prey. you’re halfway across the yard before you realize you’re moving.

oh, you care, you care a lot.

rafe’s already holding his hands up like he’s trying to ward her off. “don’t know what you think is happening here, but it’s not. i’m not interested.”

“not interested in me?” she asks, like the idea is physically painful.

“correct,” you announce loudly, “he’s not interested. crazy, right?”

she squares her shoulders and glares at you. “who are you?”

“hi, i’m the girlfriend” you shoot back, “just wondering if you’re planning on embarrassing yourself any more tonight or if that’s it?”

rafe rubs the back of his neck, looking between amused and mildly terrified, “baby—”

“don’t ‘baby’ me, cameron,” you snap, shooting him a glare before turning your attention back to the girl. she’s still standing there, trying to figure out if she should fight or flight.

smart money would’ve been on flight, but apparently, she’s the stubborn type.

she smirks, seemingly not the least bit fazed by you. “pogues share.”

“how about i share this fist with your face? that sound good to you?”

she whips around, her fake-confident expression faltering “uh, excuse me?”

“you heard me,” you only stop a foot from her. your hands are on your hips, ready to pounce if she even thinks about mouthing off one more time. “can’t you take a fucking hint, or are you just dumb?”

“i didn’t know he had a girlfriend,” she rolls her eyes.

“everyone here knows he’s with me, you just thought you’d try it anyway, didn’t you?”

“it’s not that deep,” she shrugs, her voice going fake casual. “it’s just rafe. pogues share—what’s the big deal? you’re overreacting.”

rafe winces, stepping back as if to give you space to handle it. good, he knew better than to get in your way.

“you wanna find out how much more i can react? i’m feeling real generous tonight.”

her mouth opens to say something even dumber, but you’re already pouncing , not even thinking—your body just reacts.

“whoa, whoa, whoa!” rafe’s arms are suddenly around you, yanking you before you can do any real damage “okay, we’re going home.”

“i’ll punch you too,” you hiss, squirming in his grip. “let me hit her.”

he only holds you tighter against his chest when you try to kick out at her. “baby, come on.”

“this bitch said pogues share!’” you cram your neck to glare at her over rafe’s shoulder. “i just wanna share some sense with her.”

she’s already backing away, her hands up in surrender, “okay, whatever, no dick is worth dealing with a crazy bitch. ’m leaving!” she snaps, turning on her heel.

rafe’s grip lightens up slightly, thinking this is enough to calm you down, but unfortunately for him, you take it as a chance to get what you want. as soon as he lets you lose, you take one giant step forward and grab a fistful of her hair, yanking her back just as she tries to escape.

"get your ass back here," you growl, tugging her head back.

“jesus christ,” rafe’s eyes widen and he’s there, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind once again, pulling you back. “baby, let her go!”

she lets out a surprised squeal, trying to pull away, but you’ve got a grip on her so tight she can’t. “what the hell is wrong with you?!” she screeches, hands desperately trying to pry your fingers from her hair.

“okay, you’ve made your point,” he chuckles despite the situation, “let go of her hair.”

you release her, but not without one last, satisfying shove to her back. she stumbles, glaring at you over her shoulder with her hand pressed to her scalp.

“keep your hands to yourself next time,” you warn with a sneer.

she glares at you, and opens her mouth like she’s about to start some more shit—but then she seems to think better of it. with a huff, she turns on her heel and stalks off, her footsteps retreating into the crowd.

rafe stands there, rubbing his neck nervously as he watches her go. “you’re gonna get arrested one day, y’know that, right?”

you look up at him, eyebrow raised, a smirk curling at the corner of your lips. “and you’re gonna get your balls ripped off and be single for the rest of your life. how’s that sound?”

his mouth falls open as he stares at you.

“what? i’m innocent! i didn’t do shit. you just went wwe smackdown on her. i was standing there, minding my business.”

“minding your business while she was all over you?” you challenge, “she was practically trying to crawl inside your skin.”

“told her i wasn’t interested!” he defends, throwing his hands up. “even used the line— i have a girlfriend! that’s...the ultimate force field!”

you snort, crossing your arms. “she walked right through it like it wasn’t even there.”

rafe sighs dramatically, stepping closer, his voice dropping, that little smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, “gotta admit, that was kinda hot.”

you narrow your eyes at him, trying not to let his charm sway you. “hot?”

“yeah,” he grins, “watching you go full psycho really does something for me.”

you can feel your lips twitching upward despite yourself. “you’re such a fuckin’ loser.”

“am i wrong, though?” he teases, slipping his arms around you, his lips tickling your ear as he adds, “never felt more horny—or scared—in my life.”

you huff a laugh, shoving at his chest playfully, “stop trying to make me laugh, i’m mad at you.”

“you’re mad at me?” he leans in impossibly closer, pulling you flush against him.

“rafe—” you start, but he’s already tilting his head, his lips brushing against the curve of your neck.

“mm, y’know,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin, “i like you mad. all fired up, it’s sexy.”

“don’t even,” you warn, hoping you sound firm, but it’s hard to when he’s trailing slow kisses down your neck, the press of his mouth sending shivers straight to your toes.

he doesn’t stop, of course. his kisses get sloppier, his lips parting so his tongue can flick against the sensitive spot just below your ear. 

“can’t help it,” he groans in between his work, nipping at your skin. “my girl’s too fucking hot.”

your hands come up to push at his chest, but they end up curling into his shirt instead. “i’m so fucking serious. you can’t sweet-talk your way out of this.”

“m’not sweet-talking,” he slurs, teeth grazing your skin, followed by the soothing heat of his tongue, and you gasp despite yourself. “just... appreciating you. can’t a guy admire his girlfriend after she defended his honor?” he bites down and then sucks at the spot until you’re squirming in his arms. “got me so gone for you, shit, it’s embarrassing.”

“good,” you mutter stubbornly, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair.

he practically purrs at the contact, his lips dragging down to your collarbone. “you’ve ruined me, y’know that? can’t even look at another girl.”

you laugh, your grip tightening in his hair. “keep talking, cameron. see how far that gets you.”

he grins against your skin, his teeth scraping lightly before he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. his hands slide down to your thighs, lifting you up like you weigh nothing and setting you on the edge of the picnic table.

“guess i’ll just have to show you instead.”

"rafe cameron," you start, intending to scold him, but your words stop in your throat as he steps between your legs.

“now you’re quiet,” he’s leaning in so close his nose brushes against yours. “where’d all that fire go, mm?”

your glare is half-hearted at best. “don’t push your luck, you’re still on probation, asshole.”

he hums thoughtfully, his hands sliding up your legs, fingers pressing just enough to make your breath hitch. “not luck, baby. skill.”

“you’re so fucking insufferable,” you mutter, but your hands betray you, slipping under the hem of his shirt to splay across his warm skin.

his abs tense under your touch, and you relish the reaction, how his breath hitches as you dig your nails in just a little.

“irresistible,” he counters, his voice rough. his lips hover over yours, daring you to close the gap, but he doesn’t make the first move.

he waits, his eyes locked on yours, the faintest flicker of a challenge in his pretty blue eyes. two can play that game, matter of fact, you know you’ll win.

you pull back, smirking as you trace your fingers over the waistband of his jeans, “that’s pushing it, don’t you think?”

he exhales a chuckle through his nose, his hands moving to your waist, tugging you closer. “you’re so fucking stubborn.”

“me?” you scoff, your fingers dipping beneath the fabric of his jeans, making his tighten, his smirk faltering enough to make you feel victorious.

“yeah,” he repeats, though his voice is strained now. “practically begging me to fuck you here.”

“please.” you tilt your head, your lips grazing his jaw, “you’re the one begging.”

rafe’s laugh is low and throaty, a sound that sends a thrill to your core. his control visibly slips as you trail your lips down the line of his jaw, peppering kisses that grow increasingly slower, more deliberate.

his sharp exhale and the way his grip on your hips drops for half a second tell you everything you need to know.

“you’re gonna kill me,” he mutters, his forehead dropping against your shoulder for a moment.

you grin, pleased with yourself, sliding your hands up his chest, feeling the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palms.

“don’t sound too surprised.”

he shakes his head slightly, trying to clear it, but he can’t seem to stop staring at you. “god, i hate you sometimes,” he breathes out, his lips quirking up into a smirk that betrays his words.

“funny,” you retort, fingers sliding back into his hair to tug lightly. “don’t believe you.”

his jaw tightens at the sensation, a groan slipping past his lips before he catches it.

 “you’re gonna be the death of me,” he says again, but his mouth is already back on you, a bruising kiss that steals every smart-ass remark you had locked and loaded.

your mouths move together with instinct, and when his tongue flicks against your lower lip, you don’t hesitate, opening up for him. he groans low in his throat as his tongue sweeps into your mouth, curling against yours, slick and overwhelming in the best way.

it’s messy and unrestrained, the kind of kiss that leaves you dizzy and drenched. 

rafe’s lips leave yours only for a second, his teeth tugging lightly at your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. he pulls back just enough to let it drag between his teeth, his eyes locked on yours, all dark with something feral.

you don’t let him stay in control for long, your hands tighten in his hair, tugging him back to you, and this time it’s your tongue that takes over, sliding against his in a way that has him moaning like a bitch in heat into your mouth. he sucks on it lightly, the sensation only making your panties stick harder to you, and you press closer to him, your legs tightening around his waist, looking for some kind of friction.

when he pulls back, both of you gasping for air, his lips are swollen and glistening, his eyes glazed over with that unmistakable lust.

a string of spit still connects your mouths, and you watch, entranced, as he swipes his tongue across his lips, catching it before smirking at you.

“you kiss me like that again,” he murmurs, “’m not responsible for what happens next.”

[dorabellingham]

Big boy

wanings: none

characters: jobe x reader

summary: when your boyfriend's job is to keep you warm during the winter

may contain spelling and translation errors!

birmingham, england — december 30

It was one of those cold winter nights, where the icy wind seemed to cut through your skin even through layers of clothing. You were wrapped in a blanket, looking out the window as the streets of Birmingham were covered in a thin layer of snow. Winter there always took you by surprise, being much colder than what you were used to. You sighed, even more so when the wind howled loudly outside.

The sound of the door opening made you look back. Jobe walked in, taking up almost the entire door frame with his tall, broad body. He was 6'4", and with his strong arms, he was the kind of guy who didn't go unnoticed. That big boy, as SZA sang, was the exact definition of what a girl needed in the winter.

—Damn, it's so cold out there.

He commented, closing the door and shaking out his coat. A slight smile appeared on his lips, even as he rubbed his hands together to warm himself.

—You should wear more clothes, babe. —You said, still wrapped in the blanket. —I’m freezing just looking at you.

The youngest Bellingham smiled, that warm smile that always warmed your heart, even on the coldest nights. He took off his heavy coat and threw it on the couch, revealing his strong arms covered only by a short-sleeved t-shirt. He was the typical guy who wasn’t intimidated by the cold. While you shivered at the thought of going outside, Jobe acted as if the sub-zero temperature was just a cool spring breeze.

—Who needs a coat when you have arms like that?

He joked, flexing his muscles and winking at his girlfriend.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help but smile. There was something so comforting and safe about his presence, especially on cold winter nights.

—Come here, big boy, warm me up.

Jobe didn’t need any further invitation. He walked over to you, sitting on the couch next to you and pulling you onto his lap with ease. Your legs dangled in the air for a second before finding a comfortable spot. He wrapped his arms around you, and you immediately felt his warmth envelop you.

—What would you do without me this winter, huh?

He asked, his voice low and husky, but full of amusement.

—I’d freeze, for sure! —You replied, snuggling even closer. The feeling of his strong arms around you was enough to drive away any chill. —You’re like a human heater.

—You know there’s nothing better than a great guy to keep you warm.

He said, chuckling to himself.

You couldn’t deny it. Being in Jobe’s arms during the winter was like finding the perfect refuge in the midst of the icy chaos. You were warm, safe, and the soft scent of his perfume enveloped you. You were silent for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being together.

—And not only that... —Jobe continued, as if reading your thoughts. —I’m also the guy who brings all your groceries in one trip. I bet you can’t do it alone.

You laughed, remembering all the times he had actually done that. It didn’t matter how many bags there were —Jobe always managed to bring them all in at once, balancing the groceries with ease as you followed him, almost in disbelief. It was impressive, to say the least.

—You really are useful for this! —You agreed, laughing. —I’ve never had to make more than one trip from the garage to the apartment again.

Jobe kissed the top of your head, still with that smile of someone who knew he was winning the debate.

—See? I’m the whole package. A true gentleman.

You just nodded, but you knew he was right. There was something special about being with someone like him—not just because of his physical appearance, but because of his presence, the sense of security and comfort he brought. Even in the midst of the most intense cold, Jobe was like a shield against it all.

The wind outside began to pick up, and the snow was now falling in thick flakes, covering the city streets. You looked out the window and mentally thanked yourself for being inside your house, in your boyfriend's arms. There was no place in the world you'd rather be right now.

—Are you hungry?

He asked after a while.

—A little...

You admitted, not wanting to move.

—I’ll make us something.

Jobe said, standing up with you still in his arms. He carried you to the kitchen with ease, while you laughed and protested that he didn’t have to do everything alone.

—I can walk, you know?

You said, laughing as he placed you on the kitchen counter.

—I know, but I like carrying you! —He replied, winking at you before starting to look for something to do. —Besides, who’s the big boy here?

You just watched as he started stirring the pots, feeling lucky to have him by your side. The winter might be relentless outside, but inside, with Jobe, you knew you would always be warm —both in body and in heart.

—Now —Jobe began, as he put the water to boil. —What do you want for dinner? I can make anything.

You watched him for a moment, biting your lower lip, as if you were considering it. Then, with a mischievous smile, you said:

—Anything that will keep me warm... but, more importantly, I want you.

Jobe stopped what he was doing, looking at you with a look that said here we go.

—I’m already enough to keep you warm, honey. —He said, walking over to you and planting a quick kiss on your forehead. —But, okay, I’ll make dinner special too.

And on that cold winter night, as the snow fell outside, you knew you wouldn’t need anything else but Jobe and his warmth to get through the cold.

[daddy-dotcom]

Bet on Me

Spencer Reid x Sugarbaby Reader

Spencer Reid never loses, especially when the prize is you.

Summary: Reader is a sugar baby for Reid's opponent, and he bets a night with her if he loses to Reid.

Warnings: Smut, unprotected p in v, bj, swearing ig?

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

This wasn't the first time he'd done this. Granted, the Boss only did it when he was losing a lot of money and needed to sacrifice his "lucky charm." However, this was the first time he bet me and lost, to a man half his age nonetheless. I never liked being used as a gambling chip, but he lost so rarely that I didn't dwell on it too much. The man he was playing only gave us his first name, Spencer, and damn was he good. If I didn't know any better, I would say he was counting the cards. He was slightly cocky, but not in the way that the Boss's usual opponents were. He knew he was good, but he wasn't arrogant. There was an air of confidence to him, almost as if he was guaranteed to win, which was exactly what he did. I'd never seen the Boss this upset before, practically throwing a tantrum on the casino floor. But Spencer won fair and square, more specifically, he had won me. 

Under normal circumstances, he would have bet on me as a last resort against some other equally sleazy old man. He would have won and I wouldn't have to worry about the idea of sleeping with a man who I didn't know and who had zero respect for boundaries. While the Boss wasn't exactly in his prime anymore, at least he paid me well and we had strict boundaries in place. But whenever he bet on me, I had no idea what I would be getting into. Something about Spencer being young immediately eased my nerves, especially since he was so lanky and boyish. He was probably close to my age, but you would never be able to tell because he looked like he was barely old enough to be gambling. 

"Just go on and get it over with, doll, I'll pick you up in the morning," the Boss said irritably. 

I made my way over to Spencer, who was the only one left sitting at the poker table. He sat quite awkwardly for a man who had just swept the entire table. All of the confidence from before had completely melted away. 

"Well it looks like I'm yours for the night, Spencer. I'm (Y/N) by the way." 

I leaned against the poker table, making sure to show off my best assets. If I was going to have to spend the night with him, I at least wanted to have some fun. Between my day job and being a part-time sugar baby, I didn't have the time or energy to date much. So I planned on taking full advantage of the situation. Even if I didn't end up sleeping with Spencer, there was something about him that made me want to get to know him. 

"Nice to meet you, (Y/N)" he said, and I could tell he was avoiding my gaze. This was most likely because from where he was sitting, his line of sight was directly at my boobs. 

"C'mon Spencer, let me buy you a drink."

"Shouldn't I be the one buying you a drink?" he asked, looking puzzled. 

"Looks like you need it more than I do, pretty boy." I said with a smile as I pulled him by the hand towards the bar. 

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

"I'm not a hooker by the way. Just putting that out there . . ." I said, suddenly matching Spencer's awkwardness. 

"I figured as much," he replied before taking a sip of his drink. "You're very well dressed and your jewelry is definitely real. Which could mean you're a high-end prostitute, which isn't uncommon for Vegas, but your relationship is too close for him to just be a repeat customer. So I assumed you were either a sugar baby or a trophy wife." 

"Wow. You got all that just by watching us?"

"It's kind of my job." 

"You a PI or something? What kind of job allows you to pick up on all that Mr...?" 

"Reid. And it's Dr. Reid actually. I work in the behavioral analysis unit of the FBI."

"No kidding! You? The lanky yet mysterious card counter who hasn't looked me in the eye this entire conversation, works for the FBI?"

“Yes and for the record, I wasn’t counting the cards. . .at least not this time,” he said with the slightest hint of a smirk on his lips. 

Feeling a little tipsy, I replied by saying "you know, around here that acronym FBI usually stands for Female-"

"Body Inspector, yes I'm familiar with the joke. I grew up getting my head dunked in the toilet by bullies wearing those cheap souvenir shirts from Circus Circus" 

"Ah so you're a local too?"

“Yes ma’m, Las Vegas born and raised,” he said before taking another sip of his drink. I took the opportunity to ask him another question. 

“So do you have me figured out yet, pretty boy?” 

“Well I don’t see a ring on your finger,” he said while finally looking me right in the eyes, “so that leads me to the conclusion that you are a sugar baby.” 

I could tell the effects of the alcohol were starting to creep to the surface because he wouldn’t break eye contact with me and his body began leaning towards me when he spoke instead of away. He was less guarded and almost flirtatious, in his own adorable way. 

“Ding ding ding, you got me Dr. Reid. I, uh, work as a lab assistant during the day but being his sugar baby is helping with the crushing weight of my student debt.” 

“I’m sorry that you have to spend your evenings with that jerk, (Y/N). That was mostly my motivation for accepting his offer to bet on you. I hope you know I wasn’t planning on taking advantage of you or anything, I just wanted to give you a night off from your boss.” 

My gaze softened and I tried to push away the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of my eyes. 

“That was the sweetest thing anyone’s done for me in a long time, Spencer. Thank you,” I said, gently placing a hand on his thigh. 

I saw a wave of crimson begin to appear on his cheeks and he flashed me a smile before saying, “It was my pleasure. I don’t mean to brag but I have an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187, all of this to say I’m pretty good at cards.”

“Wow! Handsome and smart? Guess you’re not the only one who hit the jackpot tonight,” I said while raising my eyebrows, “but I don’t see a ring on your finger either, Dr. Reid. You’re alone at a bar in Vegas with a pretty girl, so I’m assuming you don’t have anyone waiting for you back home?” I asked, suddenly very interested to know if this smart and adorably sweet man was single.

“So you’ve been profiling me too,” he said with a chuckle, “to answer your question, no I don’t have a wife or a girlfriend or anything like that,” he said, almost enthusiastically. Taking that as a sign, I quickly asked, 

“Would you want to come upstairs with me? I just feel so comfortable talking to you and technically you still have the rest of the night with me,” I said with pleading eyes. 

“Um . . .sure!” he said with both hesitation and excitement, which I’m assuming is because his desire is going against his better judgment as an FBI agent. 

“You agreed to that awfully fast for someone who works for the FBI.” 

“I’m not worried. I’ve been watching my drink the entire night, and I’ve been profiling you, remember?” 

At this point, we were both beaming at each other like a couple of idiots; I had to stop myself from yanking this man’s arm making a run for the elevator. 

———

"It's nice to be with a guy who doesn't have an AARP card for once." 

"Actually, it’s a common misconception that the service is limited to people 50 and over. You can apply for a membership once you turn 18," he rambled, causing me to giggle. 

"You're cute," I replied, placing a hand on the inner part of his thigh. We stayed there for a moment, our eyes fixed on one another with a blush creeping up on Spencer's cheeks. I could see his Adam's apple bob as he gulped, and I could almost swear the crotch of his pants looked tighter than before. 

"W-we don't have to do anything you know," he said, finally breaking the silence. 

"I know. . . " I said as I leaned in close, "but what if I want to?" 

I took a chance and pressed my lips to his. I let them linger there to gauge his reaction before going any further, not wanting to scare the poor man away. After a few seconds, he didn't pull away and I took the quickened pace of his breathing as a sign to kiss him more. I began slowly at first and his lips followed my lead. To my surprise, he brought his hand up to tangle his fingers in my hair and I moaned into his mouth at the contact. Our kisses quickly became hungry and passionate, and there was no denying the now obvious bulge in his pants. I moved my hand from his thigh and began rubbing him over his pants. This time, he was the one who let out a groan, the sound of which motivated me to force my tongue into his mouth. He tightened his grip on my hair, but I pulled away to tend to his growing erection. He remained seated on the edge of the bed as I dropped to my knees in front of him. 

"Y-you don't have to-" he stuttered with wide eyes. 

"Spencer, it's okay, I want to." 

He didn't protest further and I began to unbuckle his belt. I unzipped his pants and pulled down his underwear just enough to let his cock free. I wrapped my hand around the base and began to jerk him, causing him to hiss at the contact. I teased him a little by licking the tip of his dick before I placed his entire length, or as much of him as I could fit, in my mouth. 

"Oh my god” he groaned, with his eyes screwed shut. I continued to bob my head up and down his cock, his hand finding that familiar place in my hair where he began to tug again. My. pace was purposefully slow, dragging out each suck to earn a moan from Spencer. It was thrilling to be in control of the situation for once. As I sped up my motions, his hands were practically ripping the strands from my head. The wetness pooling between my legs was becoming too much to ignore, so I released my grip on Spencer's cock and used his thighs to push myself back up from my spot on the floor. 

"Spencer. . ." I whined, planting myself onto his lap, "I need you."

I took his hand and guided him to the heat between my legs. I shimmied up my dress to allow him to feel the wetness that now soaked my panties. We both let out a gasp as his fingers became slick at the touch. 

"It's been a while since anyone's made me feel like this," I admitted. I felt safe in his presence, especially since judging by his reactions, he doesn't do this very often either. 

“I-I don’t have a-," 

“Don’t worry, I’m 90% sure we’re both clean and I’m on the pill. Trust me I’m not trying to scam you for child support or anything.” 

I could feel his body relax underneath me after reassuring him. I pressed my lips to his once again, our kiss more sensual and intimate than before. Seizing the rare opportunity to be on top, I had one hand on his shoulder for support and the other on his dick to line him up with my entrance. It was almost dizzying how good it felt as I finally sank down onto his length. 

“Oh god, Spencer.” 

I buried my face into the crook of his neck, completely overwhelmed by the few of him stretching me out. Once I was comfortable, I slowly began rocking my hips. We were a mess of breathy moans and strings of profanities escaped my lips as I began bouncing on his cock. 

“Fuck Spence, you you’re so big.” 

It’s always the skinny, shy guys.

“(Y/N) you feel so good,” he grunted as he bucked his hips up in an attempt to fuck me even harder. After observing his reactions to my every move so far, I knew he wasn’t going to last long. But he was fucking me so good that I couldn’t bring myself to care. 

“Yes baby keep fucking me like that.” 

His hips continued with their relentless pace and our bodies slammed against each other again and again. It wasn’t much longer until his thrusts became sloppy and he finished inside of me with one last resounding groan. We stayed that way for a while, just grateful for the intimate connection. Once we finally caught our breath, I spoke up.

“Well you still have a few hours with me Dr. Reid, what do you propose we do?” I said with a smirk.

“We should probably go to bed, I have to catch my flight back to D.C. in the morning. . . but maybe after we do that again.” 

“I’m all yours Spencer.” 

————————————————————————

Not 100% confident about this one but lmk what y'all think :) thanks fro all the love so far besties

[ofbatsandballads]

pretty little birds

jason todd x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: suggestive content, reader works at the Iceberg Lounge as a server/dancer/informant for Oz, slight objectification from Oz, reader described as having long hair but no other physical descriptions, slight implication of potential SA (nothing happens, just concern over it)

a/n: been thinking of Jason with a girl who works at the Iceberg Lounge ever since I watched The Batman and saw Selina’s gorgeous self working there. something about her and Bruce’s dynamic was very alluring and I realized how much better it would work with Jason so this was born. might make this a series, might not; who knows? not me! also if you want a nice visual aid for the club, I fully based it off the Gotham Knights version of the lounge.

divider credit: strangergraphics

Jason wasn’t a fan of the Iceberg Lounge. He’d been there plenty of times for missions, for reconnaissance, to beat the shit out of Oswald—it didn’t mean he liked it there. The club was ostentatious, loud and vulgar like everything that went on within it. He always scoffed when he saw it during patrol. An actual iceberg exterior; how corny could Cobblepot get?

He did have to admit that it was nicer inside. The marble floors, balconies, and columns lended an elegance to the place that it didn’t deserve. The neon blues and pinks of the lighting served to disorient, to intoxicate alongside the drinks that were served across the bar and the drugs that were passed behind it. The massive penguin ice sculpture in the center was tacky though. Jason could think of a million better design choices than that.

All this to say that he wasn’t thrilled to be sent to the club per Bruce’s orders of seeing if Oz was still as legit as he claimed. He wasn’t. They all knew it but B needed proof. Jason’s sure by proof Bruce meant that he wanted him to go undercover, but one of the advantages of being Red Hood is that he can go where the other Bats can’t. That distinction is how he finds himself stalking the club from his vantage point in the shadows.

It’s busy tonight. The main floor is crowded with people. Bodies push and pull to the rhythm of the music that blares from the speakers. As tightly crammed as the floor is, the servers still manage to weave through with a practiced grace. They’re all in various states of undress; short skirts, crop tops, some in straight up underwear. Jason recognizes the servers for what Cobblepot intends them to be: a distraction. They’re all young and beautiful—pretty girls and boys that are meant to draw your eye so you don’t see the money and the drugs that pass between their hands.

Jason zeroes in on the two working the floor for any indication of something illegal. Oswald’s been smarter since his last stint in Blackgate. He lets the filth of the city do their deals in his club while he himself is never caught up in it. The argument of “well I didn’t do it” usually wouldn’t hold up legally, but this is Gotham. His eyes track the man first. He’s weaving in and out, laughing with what must be the regulars. He’s charming them, plying them with more and more alcohol to stay longer, to spend more money. He’s not doing anything more than that, though, to Jason’s utmost disappointment. He turns his attention to the girl instead.

The difference between the two of you is so obvious it’s almost amusing. While the guy weaved fluidly through the throng of people like something unseen, the crowd itself seems to part for you. Recognition, some degree of respect, power—that’s what you’ve got over the drunken group of people. He immediately knows that his best bet will be with you. Everything about you echoes the pull you must have in the club. The way you walk, how you smile at the regulars, the drifting of your hands across shoulders and backs and jawlines. It’s even clear in the way you’re dressed. You look like something out of a cabaret show. Pink silk lingerie lined with black lace flowers, black fringe beads that form the idea of a skirt rather than an actual one, and those same beads hanging in alluring arcs across your arms, neck, and chest. You’re dressed up like Penguin’s favorite dream.

You’re also not doing anything illegal. Sure, he’s watched you take money from people, but all you bring back are drinks. He watches for over half an hour, eyes always trailing back to you. Nothing. It’s remarkable how much absolutely nothing he’s seen. His patience is wearing thin. It’s one in the morning and there are better things he could be doing, people he could be helping. But he can’t leave without something for Bruce. He tries to ignore the bile that rises in his throat when he thinks of why he still cares about disappointing him. His eyebrow twitches and he decides suddenly and definitively: fuck it.

So he kicks in Penguin’s office doors.

“Ah, Red Hood. If it ain’t Gotham’s least favorite vigilante,” Oswald mutters past the cigar in his mouth. “Shut the doors behind you, would ya?”

Jason kicks them shut. No one needs to see the bloody mess that Oswald’s going to be in about fifteen minutes.

“Ah ah ah. Before you get any ideas, I would advise you to consider how bad it would be for you to be caught assaulting a reformed citizen of this great city,” Oswald gloats, stubby finger pointing at the camera in the corner.

Fuck. Now Jason has to talk. He hates talking to Cobblepot. It gets you approximately nowhere fast.

“Reformed? We both know you’re full of shit, Oz,” Red Hood taunts.

“I’m on the straight and narrow. Scout’s honor,” Penguin laughs, coughing through the harsh inhale he took of his cigar.

Nowhere. Fast.

“You’re bringing in too much money for that to be true. Your parties aren’t that good, Cobblepot.”

“Eh, you haven’t seen my toys. Most of ‘em come for the pretty little things I keep around.”

“So you’re pimping them out? You see that I can work with,” Hood retorts.

It would make sense, Oz getting his servers into sex work. It’s not the worst thing he could do if they were all willing. And if they weren’t? Well, that gives Jason a nice excuse to finally put a bullet through The Penguin.

“You don’t listen too well, do you? I’m a changed man. People can look at my dolls, but they can’t touch. Everyone loves eye candy,” Oswald says.

The doors open just as Jason considers pulling a gun on Oswald, cameras recording him or not.

“And there’s my favorite. What do ya need, doll?”

Jason watches you saunter in. You move with an almost feline gracefulness. His eyes clock the sway of your hips and the way you toss your hair over your shoulder. Then he watches the way Cobblepot’s pupils dilate as his eyes lock on you. You plant your hands on the desk, bend over as you smile saccharine at the old man sitting behind it. Oh, you’re good. Very good.

“Nothing much. Just that DA wanting his usual,” you say.

Oswald’s eyes rake lecherously over your body. He looks at you like he wants to put you in one of the glass cases that decorate his office. It makes Jason’s stomach turn. Then he pulls a key out from a locked drawer and drops it into your open palm. Now that piques his interest.

“Thanks, Oz,” you say sweetly.

As you straighten up and spin around to leave, Penguin grabs your wrist and yanks you back. He leaves one kiss on the inside of your wrist and that pretty facade cracks. It’s only for a second, so quick that Oswald doesn’t see it. Jason does. Disgust. Pure disgust flashes across your face before it’s replaced by an alluring smile. Your eyes spark with something Jason can’t quite read.

“Mind if I get some too, Ozzie? You know how much I like it,” you ask as you play with the beads that dangle on your chest.

“Sure, doll. Take whatever you want,” Oswald acquiesces.

Your face lights up and you look almost victorious. Then you spin around and head towards the doors. To this point you haven’t acknowledged him, the known vigilante, at all. But just before you leave, you pause right next to him. Jason tries not to flinch as your hand runs up his arm.

“I hope you’ve enjoyed your night here. Next time, feel free to ask for anything you want. Wouldn’t want Oz’s guests to get bored,” you purr.

Your eyes lock with the white lenses of his domino mask and Jason feels the air leave his lungs. You’d seen him. You knew he was there the whole fucking time. And you hadn’t told anyone. If you had, Cobblepot would’ve sent security in guns blazing.

“Have a good night, honey,” you tell him as you waltz out the door.

“See, Hood? Eye candy,” Oz hacks.

Jason follows you. What else was he supposed to do? Oswald gave him nothing. But you? You gave him what felt suspiciously like a lead. Ask for anything you want, you’d said. What else could you think he wanted but proof of Oswald’s lingering corruption? So he follows you. He’s careful this time. Quiet, precise steps that give no indication he’s near. It’s times like these he’s grateful for all the stealth training Bruce made him do as a kid.

He trails behind as you head downstairs. You weave through the maze of corridors until you come to a mahogany door, elaborately carved with floral emblems. It’s got an old brass lock on it that you slot the key into. Jason waits one beat, two, three—then goes through the door where you disappeared.

He finds you inside, crouching in front of an open safe. A rainbow of jewels glitter within. Diamonds, rubies, emeralds—there had to be enough jewelry in there to cover the cost of a couple of Bruce’s tricked out sports cars. You pull a more modest sapphire necklace from the safe and place it into one of the grab bags that guests can take home at the end of the night. So that’s what the DA wanted. You grab a far more ostentatious diamond bracelet and slip it into your bra.

“Think it’s a good idea to steal from your boss?”

You jump. Jason doesn’t want to admit how satisfied he is by that. He was a little worried that he’d lost his touch. You twirl around, eyes locked on the vigilante leaning against the closed door.

“Hmm…when I’ve got him wrapped around my finger? Why not?” you smirk.

You’re brave. He’ll give you that.

“Must really be putting on a show for him if you’re not worried,” he presses.

Your smile drops and your eye twitches in annoyance. He’s hit a nerve. Good.

“A show. That’s all it is. If he’s stupid enough to think it’ll be more than that, that’s his problem,” you bite, tone dripping venom instead of honey.

“Not scared he’ll realize the trick? Or what he’ll do when he does?” Red Hood asks as he fiddles with a knife he keeps in his belt.

He asks with sincerity. It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. You could end up dead. Or worse. Jason’s no stranger to people taking what they want by force, and Oz clearly wants you.

“Oswald’s a coward,” you reply harshly. “He only fucks with people weaker than him. So no, I’m not scared of toying with him. He won’t do a goddamn thing to me.”

Jason cocks his head, sizing you up. A pretty girl in lingerie working in a club thinks she’s stronger than a crime lord. Well, you’re probably not wrong.

“You’re not weak?” he asks mockingly.

But it’s still fun to test your resolve. To your credit and Jason’s surprise, you just grin. A breathy laugh falls from your red lips and Jason can’t help the way his eyes flicker down to look at the curve of them.

“I got this without so much as a fight, didn’t I?” you gloat, grabbing the diamond bracelet and swinging it around your middle finger.

“He let you.”

“Precisely. What exactly are you missing here? He let me. Because he’s a fool. And to let me take this bracelet specifically? Well, he’s just about the village idiot,” you laugh.

Jason sees the bait. His stubbornness almost makes him want to not ask just to spite you. But it’s just too intriguing.

“What’s so special about that bracelet?”

You smile wryly. Jason’s reflexes are the only reason he catches the bracelet as you toss it to him from across the room.

“Oh, I think you’re smart enough to figure that one out yourself, baby,” you purr. “Now get the fuck out.”

Jason does as he’s told. He returns to the cave with no intel beyond a locked room with a safe full of jewels and a diamond bracelet. Imagine his shock when Bruce analyzes the serial markings of the bracelet and finds that it was part of a collection that got robbed from a boutique in the Diamond District. It had been months and they hadn’t found a single piece of jewelry from the robbery. There were no leads on who did it or how. And now one of the most expensive pieces is sitting on the Batcomputer. Jason can guess where the rest are.

“Who gave you this?” Bruce asks skeptically.

Always doubt with the old man.

“A friend. Maybe,” Jason ponders.

Bruce rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Jason grins at how exhausted all his kids make him. It’s a point of pride among them: who can stress out B the most?

“You should figure that out,” Bruce scolds.

“Yeah, I think I will.”

Jason’s suddenly got a very vested interest in the Iceberg Lounge, and he’s going to satiate that curiosity if it kills him again.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Leona Kingscholar - Nightmare Suit Vignette

"What makes a qualified king"

[Halloween Town – Town Hall]

Leona: You want to hear more about the Halloween we celebrate back home? We've already come up with enough ideas for you.

Jack Skellington: Well, you guys have so many fresh ideas. I want you to teach me everything you know, without skipping a thing.

Epel: Without skipping a thing… Hmm, was there anything else?

Epel: Oh yeah, don't the people in this town wear any costumes for Halloween?

Jack Skellington: Costumes?

Epel: Yes! We dress up like mummies, werewolves, vampires and other sorts of monsters to scare people.

Riddle: When it comes to scaring… I don't think any of that would be any different for the residents here.

Epel: Oh, right… Hmmm, I'm sorry, I can't think of anything better.

Jack Skellington: No, you're fine. Basically, you're saying that you dress differently than you normally do, right? That also sounds interesting.

Jack Skellington: Might not be too bad to have big ears, a tail, sharp fangs and claws to become a werewolf.

Epel: Jack-san… a werewolf?

Leona: Kekek, I can see that making things even more confusing.

Leona: Regardless, it's much too early to be talking about next Halloween.

Jack Skellington: Too early? Not at all.

Jack Skellington: Once this year's Halloween is over, we only have 364 days until next Halloween.

Riddle: Indeed. I agree in that it may not be too early. Even this time, we are all working on a tight schedule…

Riddle: If you were to create a rough plan now, there'll be more time for preparations next year.

Leona: I get what you're saying. But there's no saying whether our Halloween will even be successful.

Leona: We haven't even finished the prep for this coming Halloween.

Leona: I think it'd be best for us to give our brains and bodies a rest to make sure we can even prepare everything properly.

Jack Skellington: Yeah, it's important to take breaks. But once this Halloween is over, you guys are going back to your own world, right?

Jack Skellington: And during the day, we're all so busy with preparations. I want to hear all your stories while I can.

Leona: Your eagerness to learn is astounding. If that's the case, then there's someone else who can help you better.

Leona: Hey, Idia.

Idia: Eeek!? D-Don't just pan the camera over to me… Why me, anyway…?

Leona: "Why"? Well, obviously because you're the Housewarden of the dorm Ignihyde, which adheres to the diligent spirit of the Lord of the Underworld.

Jack Skellington: The Lord of the Underworld? That sounds fascinating. Idia-kun, tell me more.

Idia: T-T-T-Tell you more? More what? I mean, s-sure, I know all his lore, but I don't want to give a presentation, or anything…!

Epel: Right, since Jack-san is the King of Halloween… That means he'd be considered the Lord of this town, right?

Leona: You can't judge someone just by their title. A king is only as good as what actions they take.

Leona: Although I'm pretty interested in what exactly the King of Halloween is expected to do, too.

Jack Skellington: What I do? Well, of course, that's to make Halloween as frightening as possible.

Idia: I-I mean, since you're the King of Halloween, you just gotta hype up Halloween, right? I guess…

Riddle: In order to make Halloween as frightening as possible, what exactly do you do?

Jack Skellington: Let me think. I'd drive a cart…

Epel: You drive…?

Jack Skellington: Or take walks in the cemetery with Zero…

Idia: And walk your dog…?

Jack Skellington: And I'll also read, or do experiments.

Riddle: Reading is one thing, but what sort of experiments does one need to do on Halloween…?

Jack Skellington: And finally… It's also my job to look over the townsfolk's proposals that the mayor has gathered.

Leona: Ah, there we go, finally something that sounds appropriate.

Leona: But you're telling me that the king goes through everyone's proposals personally? I bet there's a more efficient way to do it.

Jack Skellington: No, not at all. I need to take everyone's ideas and bring them together to make the best Halloween ever.

Jack Skellington: Wait, yeah, that's it. The king is someone who can bring everyone together.

Epel: I see. So, that's why you're the King of Halloween.

Idia: Ugh… There's no way I'd ever be able to bring everyone together like that…

Riddle: I cannot allow you to wallow like that. It is a Housewarden's job to keep the students together.

Leona: Hey, now, Riddle, don't bully the guy. That's way too much to ask of that gloomy kid.

Leona: But, huh, never expected bringing everyone together to be considered what makes a qualified king here. Guess it's much easier to decide a king here in this town than in other places.

[Halloween Town – Center]

Mayor: Now, now, everyone work quickly! We must hurry to finish making all the decorations!

Jack Skellington: Mayor! I've brought all the finished decorations.

Mayor: Oho, these have been made splendidly! I'll get these up on the gate now.

Leona: …I thought I'd take a break around here, but it looks like I should look somewhere else.

Leona: I'm exhausted from all the troubles I've had to deal with. I can just leave the rest of the preparations to the townsfolk… Hm?

Grim: OUTTA THE WAY, GET OUT OF MY WAAAY!

1. Grim, stop! 2. Someone please catch him!

[Mayor's face changes to sad]

Jack Skellington: Mayor, look out!

Mayor: AAAAAAAA HE'S GONNA CRASH RIGHT INTO MEEEEE!!!!

Mayor: H-Huh…? I'm not hurt…

Grim: MYAAAAAH! DON'T PICK ME UP BY MY SCRUFFFF!

Leona: Shut up, stop fussing. Geez, it's just one thing after another with you.

Leona: What did this furball do this time?

1. He ruined a bunch of the decorations…

Leona: So, that's the reason why he's got so many things stuck in his fur after running away without looking where he was going, huh. Leona: There's spider webs, bat wings, and… is this a fish bone? How many decorations did you destroy?

2. He snuck a bunch of the candy…

Leona: There's a lot of crumbs all over Grim's face. …I understand what happened. Leona: You got caught stuffing your face, and just ran away without looking where you were going, huh.

Grim: Humph! Blame the decorations for being in the way!!

Jack Skellington: …

Grim: How dare all these things stick to my beautiful fur… I'll throw off all these weird decorations!!

Grim: HEY, LEONA, LET GO OF ME ALREADY!! LET GO, LET GO, LET GOOOOO!

Jack Skellington: GRAAAAAAAAAH!!

Grim: Eeep!?

Grim: I-I was just joking! And now that my tummy's happy, I'll totally help with the prep now!

Jack Skellington: Then make sure you put the decorations back where they came from. And apologize to everyone you caused problems for.

Grim: Fine…

Jack Skellington: Good. Halloween is right around the corner, you know.

Grim: His bones streeeetched, and he had such sharp teeth just now… That version of Jack was super scary.

Leona: Hey, [Yuu]. Go see Trey and Jamil right now, and tell them everything that happened.

Leona: Since it's those guys, I'm sure they already planned for any sort of possible trouble, but…

Leona: If Grim really did eat so much he's full, then there's no way we'll have enough to eat.

Leona: After you talk to them, do whatever Trey and Jamil tell you to. Got it?

1. I understand. 2. Yessir, right away!

Grim: Gweh!? Hey, [Yuu], don't you grab me by my scruff too!

[Grim and Yuu leave]

Leona: What's left is… Those decorations, huh.

Mayor: That's right. We need to finish decorating the gate as quickly as we can. I'll call the closest people and...

Leona: Hey, now, you planning on having everyone stand in a line and take turns going up and down the ladder to set everything up, or something?

Leona: Just have someone call over the witches.

Leona: These are all light. If they carry them up on their brooms and put up the decorations, it'll be over in less than 30 minutes.

Mayor: Eeeh!? But I'm having the witches do a different task.

Leona: Then have someone else do whatever it is they're doing. Halloween is right around the corner, right?

Leona: Do you all even have time to be lax about all this?

Leona: Pretty sure now's the time you want to start thinking about who should do what to get everything done in the shortest amount of time possible.

Jack Skellington: Yeah, I think you're right, Leona-kun. If we're looking for someone to trade jobs with the witches… I think that guy over there should work.

Jack Skellington: We'll tell the witches to come to the town center and have them do this task.

Mayor: We're going with what Leona-kun says, hm… Then, can I ask you to help on a few other things?

Mayor: You see, we're actually facing delays on this task and that one…

Leona: Haah… I just wanted to rest for a bit.

Leona: But it'd be bad if I just let it be and Halloween is a big failure, since I won't be able to go back home.

Leona: Fine. I'll just do a little bit more work, then.

[Mayor's face changes to glad]

[Halloween Town – Center]

[rabble, rabble]

Halloween Town Resident A: Jack, we've finished with our tasks.

Halloween Town Resident B: We're done, too. Oh, and it sounds like there'll be enough candy made in time, too.

Jack Skellington: That's great! Thanks, everyone.

Leona: …Looks like we somehow made it. Now all we can do is hope Halloween goes off without a hitch.

???: For my part, I apologize for all the troubles I caused.

Leona: Yeah, seriously. You can't possibly imagine the amount of extra work I had to do all because of your tantrum.

Skully: However, ever since you took charge, Leona-san, it seems as though all preparations were completed smoothly.

Skully: Vil-san looked over all the completed delicate needlework, and Idia-san provided so much help with difficult calculations…

Skully: I heard you took everyone's strengths and thoughtfully allocated tasks accordingly.

Leona: I didn't do nothing "thoughtfully." I just gave them stuff I didn't want to do.

Skully: Oh, you are most humble. Yes, even Trey-san and Jamil-san were especially thankful for your consideration.

Skully: Because you see, they were lacking in sweets in a greater number than Jamil-san had initially thought.

Skully: He said, if you had not sent [Yuu]-san to inform them…

Skully: We would have been forced to have a desolate Halloween without candy.

Leona: Heh, well, sorry for makin' him work harder, then.

Skully: …You keep a good eye on everything around you. Not only did you look after your schoolmates, but also the townsfolk.

Skully: You were able to get everyone to work together, despite only having met them only a few days ago… Your skill is a sight to behold.

Jack Skellington: That's right!

Skully: Jack-sama!

Jack Skellington: As everyone finished their tasks, they'd all report to me afterwards, you see.

Jack Skellington: When I told them everything was all thanks to Leona-kun's improvement efforts, everyone was so pleased.

Dr. Finkelstein: That's right. Leona's got quite the head on his shoulders. He's a rather capable young man.

Mayor: Absolutely. Whenever we consulted him, he'd always have an idea ready, and once we implemented it, it always went well.

Sally: It was amazing how he didn't even need to leave the town center, and could figure out the situation and give the right instructions right away…

Skully: He never lifted a finger, and yet he was able to expertly give commands… Heheh, sounds like Leona-san is a king to me.

Skully: Perhaps it could be said, then… That this Halloween came to be thanks to two great kings.

Jack Skellington: Yes, it's just as Skully-kun says. Because a king is someone who can bring everyone together.

Mayor: I agree, you guys are so skilled in keeping everyone on task!

Sally: Both of you have amazing leadership skills.

Dr. Finkelstein: Indeed, we've received great inspiration from all of your original ideas.

Skully: Isn't it amazing, Leona-san? Not only are you receiving high praise from the illustrious Jack-sama, but also from all those who admire him…

Leona: Well, whatever, thanks for all the accolades.

Leona: Just hearing all of you say all that is making me feel idiotic for even putting so much thought into everything.

Leona: If someone is recognized as a king by all those who need and admire them…

Leona: I guess that person really becomes their "king," then.

[Savanaclaw Dorm – Lounge]

Savanaclaw Student A: And that's how we do Halloween at Night Raven College. That was epic!

Savanaclaw Student B: I had just as much fun prepping as I did enjoying the events. Man, I can't believe Halloween's over already.

Jack: What are those guys doing…? They should be getting ready for Spelldrive practice.

Ruggie: Guess they're just sufferin' from what we call the Halloween Blues. Y'see it every year. There's always freshmen who're burned out after.

Ruggie: I mean, I totally get the same "we did it!" feeling, sure. But if they keep lounging around like that…

Leona: Hey, you. How long do all of you plan to laze around?

Savanaclaw Student A/B: AH, HOUSEWARDEN LEONA!

Leona: It's almost time for Spelldrive practice to start… You guys must be feeling pretty good to not even be changed yet, huh.

Leona: If you've learned the applied magic needed to change your clothes right here, right now, why don't all you freshmen show me what you can do?

Savanaclaw Student A/B: S-Sorry! We'll go change right now and head towards the Spelldrive field!

Leona: Geez, they're just one pain after another…

Jack: They were all just laying around… But as soon as they saw Leona-senpai, they straightened right out.

Ruggie: Didja see how stiff they were when they shot up straight? …Well, I guess when a lion glares atcha, anyone'd fall in line.

Ruggie: See, that's why when Leona-san's around, everyone's at attention… It's like the whole dorm is in peak condition.

Ruggie: That's Leona-san, for ya. Our king is the best of the best!

Leona: What, I'm a king just 'cause I scolded some of our cubs? That's a pretty cheap price for a throne.

Leona: If you're gonna try to butter me up, try making a little more sense.

Jack: It's not just idle flattery. Just like Ruggie-senpai says, you're our…

Leona: Yeah, yeah, whatever, thanks.

Leona: …Leave the stupid chatter out of it. Time to head to the Spelldrive field.

Requested by @farfalla049 and @raven-at-the-writing-desk

[azsazz]

Pirouettes & Promises

Mafia!Azriel x Ballerina!Reader

Summary: Anon Req: Can u do a Mafia az and ballerina reader?

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1029

Notes: Not the best, but I tried.

_________________________________________

There’s nothing that Azriel likes about this.

Well, that’s a lie. He likes you, up on stage in your perfectly blush pink outfit. He likes the likes the way the lighting washes over you, how your eyes light up when you nail a move that you’ve been practicing both in the studio or in the middle of his living room. He had all the furniture moved for you specifically, even offered to build you your own studio somewhere within the high rise, because there is no one more important than you.

He's still a little irked that you shut that idea down, preferring to take the trek to the other side of town to practice in the dingy little studio that has zero security for you. He knows this, of course, because your shiny new vehicle is fitted with a tracker, and because of the very details reports from his security detail. He bets you don’t know about the robbery that happened at the bodega on the corner of the block. The kid was fifteen and only trying to steal a bag of chips, but Azriel doesn’t like when any crime is too close to you.

That’s about everything about this situation he does like.

From his vantage point in one of the expensive boxes that he had no trouble putting on his card, he can see the entire audience. The way that they sit, silent in their seats, because your dance has completely hypnotized everyone in the theater. Some are leaned forward in their seats as they watch, utterly enraptured by you.

Azriel doesn’t like the way that everyone’s eyes are on you, watching the ways that you move and bend. You’re always so graceful, even when he’s pinning you to the mattress and fucking you through your fourth orgasm with tears in your eyes and bruises on your neck.

He wants to send his men in and reign terror on the crowd.

They’re scattered all over the place like a bunch of ants. There’s at the very least one guard by each door. Two outside his own private box, and his most trusted security detail are with him, flanking him on either side, ready to throw themselves in front of him should they need.

You don’t know that there’s one waiting outside of your dressing room, making sure no one slips inside and tampers with anything in your room while you perform. You don’t know that there are men waiting on either side of the stage, or in the crowd. Azriel spared no one from his employment on tonight.

He almost invited Rhysand, one of his most trusted colleagues, but thought better of it. They’ve been companions since their college days, but it’s best for them not to be out in the open together. Rhysand tells him that he’s too paranoid, but Azriel doesn’t care, because you are the most important thing in the world to him, and he will do anything to keep you safe.

Your final move never fails to take his breath away. Azriel’s seen it before, many many times, but with the addition of your costume and makeup, the sultry music and the sensual lighting, you are a dream. He can’t take his eyes off you.

You fucking nailed it.

There’s a beat of silence while the crowd stare in awe, before the theater erupts in thunderous cheers. You hold the pose for a moment longer before relaxing out of it, a beaming smile on your face as the excitement washes over you. Your chest heaves with the effort and your eyes rove the audience, drawn immediately to Azriel, where he’s standing on his feet just like the rest of them, clapping for you. He might not be grinning down at you, but he may as well be with the upturned corner of his mouth, as much of a smile as he’s willing to show in any public situation.

You know that in the bedroom later, he will be all smiles and compliments. Your stomach flips in anticipation, and you refrain from blowing a kiss in his direction because it will no doubt draw eyes toward your lover.

His smile falls when people begin tossing things on stage. They’re flowers, roses in a bloodred color that look like spilled blood on the floor. Your smile falters when he’s ushered from his suite and force yourself to focus on the rest of the attendees, smiling in gratitude and taking a bow.

You snag a rose from the floor on your way off the stage. Your fellow dancers and coaches alike are ready with hugs and congratulations on your dance, and you take a few moments to revel in their kind words. Azriel having been ushered from the room is not uncommon, but you were hoping he would at least stay until you exited the stage.

You get it, you really do, that he’s an important man with many enemies, but there’s a sting in your chest that he left so quickly. You want to embrace him, fall into his warmth and revel in the feeling of your perfect performance. You want his hands around your waist, holding you as tightly as possible, whispering words into your ear that make your pussy clench.

With a sigh, you shove your way into your dressing room, only to squeak with surprise when you spot Azriel, sitting on the couch, waiting for you.

He looks like sin, arms splayed wide, resting across the back of the couch. He looks as handsome as ever with his finely black, pressed shirt unbuttoned and showing off the dark curls of tattoos that ink his skin. Your mouth runs dry, even more so when he smirks at you.

“You did wonderful, sweetheart.”

You fling yourself into his arms.

Azriel catches you, because he always will, and cradles you to his chest, peppering kisses to your cheeks with a whispered, “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” you murmur back, looking up at him like the lovesick girl you are. He’s looking down at you in much the same way, and your heart beats hard in your chest when Azriel dips his head to capture your lips in a sweet, sensual kiss.

[mixolya]

ᓚᘏᗢ — beneath the stars, we became one: chapter 011 !

the afternoon sun casted a golden glow over the football field, the yelling of the coach and the rhythmic thud of the ball filling the air. practice was in full swing with players darting across the field in sharp, coordinated movements.

ayane, milya, and you had claimed your usual spot on the bleachers, drinks in hand, watching the team train.

"seishiro's barely moving," ayane muttered, squinting at the field. "is he even trying?"

milya snorted, following her gaze. "classic nagi. bet he's dreaming of playing video games right now."

you let out a small laugh, watching as nagi lazily nudged the ball forward, his posture screaming indifference. "and he's still somehow making it look effortless."

"effortless?" ayane scoffed, popping a piece of gum into her mouth. "it's like he's allergic to running."

"didn't you say how good he was at the football match?" you teased, giving her a sidelong glance.

ayane rolled her eyes dramatically. "that was different. he actually tried for once. you know, rare occurrence and all."

"maybe he's conserving his energy for the next match," milya chimed in with a grin. "strategic laziness."

ayane raised an eyebrow. "that's just a fancy way of saying he's slacking off."

"he's still better than half the team," you pointed out.

"that's the most annoying part," ayane muttered, crossing her arms. "he puts in zero effort and still looks like he knows what he's doing."

"yeah, but imagine if he actually cared," milya said, her gaze flicking to reo, who was calling out directions to his teammates. "reo's probably losing his mind watching this."

the three of you laughed, the banter easing into the background as the players switched drills. just as the pace picked up on the field, your attention shifted to rin, whose movements were as usual, sharp and precise.

but then, mid-turn, you caught it - a misstep. rin's foot slid slightly on the turf, and his knee hit the ground hard.

"did he just trip?" ayane asked, sounding almost shocked.

"yep," milya replied, her tone light. "mark this day on the calendar. RIGHT NOWW"

you watched closely as rin stood, brushing off his fall and continuing the drill, though his movements seemed stiffer than before.

"he's hurt", you said, frowning.

"doesn't look like he's stopping," milya pointed out, leaning forward slightly.

"typical rin," ayane added. "he could be on fire and still insist he's fine."

you didn't respond, your focus locked on rin as he waved off the coach and pushed through the drill. without another thought, you stood, already making your way down the bleachers.

"wait, y/n, what are you doing?" milya called after you.

"making sure he doesn't do something stupid again," you said over your shoulder.

as you made your way across the field, the coach turned to rin, clearly trying to get him to take a break. rin shook his head, his expression resolute.

"rin," you called out, your voice firm enough to catch his attention. he glanced your way, his eyes narrowing slightly, though he didn't stop moving.

"what are you doing here?" he asked.

"you're bleeding," you replied, nodding toward his knee.

"it's fine," rin muttered, turning back to the drill. "it's nothing."

"nothing?" you echoed, stepping closer. "if it doesn't get cleaned, it's gonna get infected. let me clean it for you.

rin stopped, finally looking at you. for a moment, it seemed like he was going to argue again, but something in your tone made him sigh instead.

"fine," he said quietly. "but i'm not skipping practice."

"yeah, yeah," you said, waving him off. "come on."

the two of you walked to the nurse's office in silence, though you could feel the weight of his presence beside you. his usual confidence seemed muted, replaced with a quiet sort of annoyance - not at you, but at the situation.

when you arrived, you motioned for him to sit on the bed while you rummaged through the first-aid kit.

"do you always have to be so stubborn?" you teased lightly, kneeling in front of him to check the scrape on his knee.

rin huffed, his gaze fixed on the wall. "do you always have to be so nosy?"

you smirked, dabbing the disinfectant a little too purposefully on his knee. "only when someone decides to keep playing on an injury like it's no big deal."

he winced, his jaw tightening, but he didn't pull away. "i'm fine."

"sure you are," you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "because limping around is totally normal."

he finally looked at you, his expression flat but his voice softer. "i hate you."

you met his stare without missing a beat. "no, you don't."

his brows furrowed slightly, as if considering whether it was worth the effort to argue. in the end, he said nothing, just staring at you.

"thought so," you said, grabbing a fresh bandage. "if you really hated me, you wouldn't have followed me."

rin blinked, the slightest flicker of surprise crossing his face before it vanished. "i didn't follow you", he muttered, looking away.

"oh, you totally did. you're so in love with me," you teased, carefully wrapping the bandage around his knee.

rin let out a sharp breath as his gaze flicked back to you. "you're delusional," he muttered.

you grinned, tightening the bandage just enough to make him flinch slightly. "denial isn't a good look on you, rinnie."

he gave you a pointed glare, but you didn't back down, meeting his gaze. the tension between you was electric, though neither of you seemed willing to break it just yet.

"you're so full of yourself," he muttered, rolling his eyes.

you shrugged, putting the first-aid kit away. "you say that like it's a bad thing."

he watched you for a moment, then lets out a quiet sigh. "thank you," he said, the words louder than he expected.

you blinked, caught off guard by the quiet sincerity in his tone. you opened your mouth to respons, but he was already standing up, reaching for the door.

"you're welcome, rin," you said with a half-smile, watching him pause at the door.

he turned back to glance at you.

"are you coming or not?"

you stood up, walking toward him. rin held the door open, letting you step through first before following behind you.

the hallway was quiet, your footsteps echoing as you made your way back to the football field. rin's usual stoic expression was back, but there was a slight ease in his demeanor, as if the tension had lifted after the brief moment in the nurse's office.

as you reached the exit, rin held the door open for you, letting you step through first (again). the sounds of footballs being kicked and teammates shouting filled the air as you reentered the field.

"don't push it too hard, you said, looking at him.

rin gave you a small nod, his expression softening. "i'll be fine," he muttered, then turned toward the field.

"see you later," he called over his shoulder as you went back to your friends.

rin was in fact very difficult to understand.

chapter 010 > here > chapter 012

back to beneath the stars, we became one !

my taglist is open <3

a/n: this is so cliché bye AND RUSHED TOO my bad guys

taglist: @byakgans @bluberrymochi17 @levihanmyotp @x3nafix @etojlee @chuuyalvover @reocidal @syarc0re @azinniyaa @vashyuu @rwbie @idexmids @giaalorine @modxbea @nensi @anqelkoz @sapph1r3x

© mixolya 2025. do not copy, remake or edit any of my works.

[a-not-so-clean-blog]

Nu carnival boys giving head

AMAB reader in mind, but some use neutral terms. ♠️

Yakumo

He may not have experience but he is naturally very good with his tongue. He loves making you happy and hearing you moan so as long as you're making noises he's encouraged to keep going. He is happy to let you set the pace or let him go at his own pace. Soft words of encouragement is really all he needs to have just as good a time as you are.

Edmond

He takes instructions very well. So even if he's not good at the start, by the end he will have your knees shaking. He feels vulnerable as a knight being on his knees and looking up at someone, but that is also a huge turn on for him (one he will never admit to). He does prefer if you let him go at his own pace. He will learn but he needs to feel like he has at least a little control over the situation.

Olivine

He's already used to being on his knees and worshiping, so this is strangely familiar to him. He's got zero experience so feel free to grab his hair and give him a little guidance. He loves the slight gagging feeling of deepthroating. He's more than happy to choke on you and drink everything you'll give him.

Quincy

He is going to edge you for so long, but I swear it's not on purpose! He just goes slow and makes sure you feel every lick, suck, and movement he makes. He will leave bite marks all along your thighs and around your hips. It feels so good but sometimes you wish he would just make you cum so you can get to the next part. Yes he will swallow, he doesn't let anything go to waste.

Kuya

Why is he so good at this? It's so rare for him to actually service someone because he's selfish, but damn is he good with his mouth! He's such a jerk about it too. He will make sure you feel absolutely amazing just so you beg him to do it again later. Another tool in his arsenal of manipulation. If he lets you cum in his mouth it's only so he can kiss you and make you taste yourself on his lips.

Blade

He tries to do too much at once. Hand getting in the way of his mouth, teeth accidentally scraping against sensitive areas. It's because he gets over excited and over eager. Let him know it's okay to slow down; that even though the individual acts bring pleasure, doing everything at once just makes it difficult. He will follow directions well but he doesn't adapt as fast as some of the other boys. Still, he's cute so you'll get off anyway. He also loves holding eye contact while he's sucking you off.

Garu

Surprisingly between him and Garu he is the one you need to be careful about biting you. It's a reflex when he has a delicious piece of meat in his mouth. He gets caught up in the excitement and that can lead to nips (or worse), but as long as you talk (dirty) to him he remembers to be careful. He's also very needy with stimulation and will hump your boot/leg if you let him.

Karu

Surprisingly gentle? He has amazing muscle control and can actually deepthroat really well. He doesn't prefer deepthroating because of the gagging feeling, but he does like the sounds you make when you are all the way in and his nose is smushed in your crotch. It actually really turns him on. Could also be a scent thing, with the source of your musk literally pressed against his nose.

Dante

You have to be really close in your relationship for the high and mighty sun lord to get on his knees for you. His head is sloppy at best and not in a good way. Be very clear with instructions and he will get better, but the more you try to correct him the more bitter he gets. He thinks of this as a favor to you so who are you to complain? It's best to praise what he does well and let him go from there. Also you need to tell him when you're about to cum, if you get him messy he will be upset.

Rei

How did you get him to agree to this?! Well he's really good but getting a blowjob from him is about as likely as getting struck by lightning. It's possible but I wouldn't bet on it happening. He's just not a fan of the power dynamic it makes him feel. He's really good at reading your expressions so it's easy for him to figure out exactly how you like it on the fly. He will give you the best BJ you've ever had, but only so he can get it over with faster. He doesn't actually dislike it as much as he lets on, but he'd still rather do other activities. You may be able to entice him to do more if you say different diets affect the taste. Now he's inclined to do a little “experiment” with pineapple. Other than that he's a spitter.

Eiden

Aaaah~ perfect. He knows how to find every weak spot you have between your legs, and once he finds what gets you moaning he won't stop until you shoot your load across his face. He knows a few different techniques he's been dying to try! This is how he likes to get warmed up for a longer night. He like it when you use your hands too, like running your fingers through his hair or holding his hand. He will also take advantage of other erogenous zones in the area, not just your cock. He can spit or swallow, it depends on how bratty he's feeling that day. If he spits he'll let it drip from his tongue back onto your cock.

Aster

He doesn't deepthroat. Actually, his blowjobs are mostly handjobs with some tongue (and some teeth). Just be glad he isn't biting… much. He will scrape his fangs across your sensitive skin and nibble on the head a bit. Not enough to break skin but definitely enough to get your heart racing. He will swallow when you're done, but he's also going to ask for another meal as well.

Morvay

Yay! It's his favorite meal of the day! Honestly he loves it, truly. He's the best when it comes to deepthroating (lots of practice), and he will make you cum until you're dizzy. He will drink every last drop of cum you give him and will make a show out of showing you he didn't spill any. He gets over eager and will go until you are overstimulated and your body is exhausted. Literally won't stop until he milks every last drop.

[starcurtain]

I guess it's because his Warp is called 'gilded imprisonment', and the phonecall with Jade where he says 'I don't wanna bet anything just to escape your clutches'.

Kinda makes him a foil to Robin and warped parallel to Sunday in a way I think if you see him as thinking of his job as a gilded cage. It may not really be true, maybe he can walk away anytime he wants I'm sure he has the power and ability to even if hed be up for silencing if he left the Stonehearts, but he has nowhere else to go so he may just be trapping himself there with his own apathy. Hope that made sense lol

Always enjoy reading your thoughts ty for the food 🙏

(Will answer the part about the character foils in a different post because that is a whole long thing of its own!!)

See, I definitely think this is the issue, because I have had people say that exact thing to me "Well his warp is called gilded imprisonment so that has to be referring to the IPC!" Like... Do people think the IPC has a monopoly on the word "gilded" or something? Or that "gilded" can only refer to literal gold coins and not any of the many, many metaphors for being a prisoner to destiny that are swirling around Aventurine?

"To gild" means to "cover thinly with gold." It doesn't mean to create wealth, to imply actual money, or even to relate at all to the concept of "golden handcuffs" (which is what people seem to be mistaking it for). Gilding could more accurately be described as a process of taking something cheap--like low-quality nickel--and plating it over with the thinnest layer of gold, to try to make the item seem much better than it is. Gilding something is often like dressing up a pig--you can make it look pretty on the outside, but on the inside, it's still a pig.

Just the thinnest layer of gold over a darker interior...

There's nothing about "gilded imprisonment" that automatically has anything to do with the IPC, unless you're already coming in with the impression that Aventurine is a prisoner of the IPC. If you start with a preconceived notion of what "imprisonment" means for Aventurine, then and only then do we make the jump to "Oh, this must be in reference to the IPC." Take that preconception out and there's zero connection lol.

Even the Chinese name of the warp, "囚石铸金" (lit. "Prison stones cast [in] gold") and other languages' translation of the banner name (like German's "Stein zu Gold," lit. "Stone to gold") imply that the most important element of the banner is "coating over something bad with something good"--i.e., turning prison walls into gold, turning the "stone" of his dark past into something shining. (This actually makes a nice irony in several languages, because he turned the rocky desert of his homeland and the stone walls of a prison into gold by... earning a Cornerstone and becoming a "Stoneheart"--or, that is, he himself is a "worthless" stone that has been thinly coated over in shiny wealth.)

But personally, if we really want to go by the English name of the banner, I would argue that it is much more likely Aventurine's banner name is a reference to his own troubled relationship with the concept of "blessings" and "destiny" than anything to do with the IPC.

From the beginning of his life, Kakavasha was told he was "blessed" and that he was the "chosen one." He was favored by a goddess, born on the day of her rebirth, and told that he will be the savior of his people. So, we can literally say he's the Avgin "golden child," which is further supported by the constant connection between Aventurine and gold colors (his golden-haired appearance, his mother's gold accessories with him since his birth, the word "Avgin" itself even meaning [golden] honey). So as the "golden child," we have this perception that his power of incredible luck, gifted to him by a goddess, must be a blessing, a good thing.

And yet that's not how it plays out for him. What his family tells him is a blessing ends up functioning more like a curse for Aventurine, when it becomes clear he can't use that luck of his to protect those who mean the most to him. He might be the goddess's golden child, the chosen one--but no one else is chosen with him. He's a failed savior, an incapable hero, and there is no escape from the destiny which has been decided for him.

There's a reason his lightcone is called "Inherently Unjust Destiny." His own destiny, decided when he was born favored of an aeon, makes him a prisoner of the suffering that he can survive but never avoid.

We see how much this haunts him constantly throughout his experiences in 2.1...

To me, I would interpret the English banner name "Gilded Imprisonment" as much more related to how Aventurine's blessing, which is supposed to make him the favored, lucky, golden child, is actually nothing more than a thin veneer over the terrible destiny that binds him, continually costing him everything and everyone he loves.

On to the other point entirely, I think people might also really be misinterpreting that sentence about "escaping Jade's clutches." Again, I think this relates a lot to the fact that people are coming into Aventurine's character with this preconception of him as a prisoner to the IPC, so they're interpreting this sentence in the most literal way possible ("I want to get away from you"), but that is actually not what Aventurine is saying at all there.

Jade's rank in the IPC is P46. If Aventurine is promoted to P46, he would no longer be her subordinate. Therefore, when he says "I don't want to bet anything just to escape your clutches," this is actually a (vaguely snarky, to be sure) compliment. Aventurine is saying "I don't want you to think I'm engaging in a bet [that I know I'll win] because I dislike working for you."

It's supposed to be flattery. He's saying "Don't think I'm trying to get away from you, oh great Madam Jade. I wouldn't try to make any bets just to get out of being your underling."

I think it's got a healthy dose of sarcasm to be sure, because Jade herself would have trained Aventurine to snatch every chance to get ahead. So now he's in the hilarious situation of having to balance the expected respect to his mentor ("Of course I would never want to leave you! You're the best boss!") with the fact that his own mentor wants him to be cut-throat at all costs lolol.

It's irony-laced flattery for sure.

That's why his next line is "Well, if it's just a friendly bet though, then sure, I'll engage." He's saying "So long as you know I'm not betting because I dislike working for you, sure, I'll play along." Because he knows that's what he's supposed to do--as a Stoneheart, he should be seizing every opportunity to advance. He virtually has to make this bet that he'll be promoted just to demonstrate the desirous personality that Jade would be expecting.

And honestly, it's supposed to be a callback to their first scene together too. They literally add that to text so people can't miss it. Kakavasha came to Jade as a person "hungry" to rise up the chain, to change his circumstances. He's making the same bet again to suggest to her that he hasn't changed in the slightest even after his experiences in Penacony.

(Now, why he's trying to act like he hasn't changed in front of Jade is another story, and "Aventurine is out to destroy the IPC" conspiracy theorists can run wild with this one for sure.)

But yeah. That line... really does not mean what people think it means, apparently.

Anddddd I'll get to the character foils in another post; this was already long enough as-is! 😂

[lenaellsi]

Something I've been thinking about: Crowley was not sent to kill Job's children.

(Under the cut for length; this got away from me.)

I think we can safely infer that Hell actually did send him to destroy the goats. He has his permit ready when Aziraphale shows up, and even cheekily calls himself one of Satan's "diabolical ministers." I wouldn't be surprised if he was sent to supervise the family during the bet as well, reporting in on whether Job seems to be losing faith. We don't know whether he volunteered for the assignment or whether he was chosen because he's one of Satan's favorites, but it's clear he's meant to be there in some capacity.

But it's specifically mentioned in the basement scene that Satan sent a storm to kill the children. Not Crowley--a storm. And that means that Crowley is in that house against orders. He's not just refusing to do something terrible on behalf of Hell, he's actively working to thwart them. That's a step further than "a demon who goes along with Hell as far as he can" would imply, and it has to be incredibly dangerous for him to meddle in something Satan has such a keen interest in. So why help these humans in particular? He can't save them all--he knows that. He knows that better than anyone. (Nothing lasts forever.)

And there are a lot of reasons Crowley might choose to help Job's family, despite the risks. We know from the Flood that Crowley is disturbed by the idea of killing children just to make a point. We know that Crowley loves humanity, and that he dreads their eventual, inevitable destruction. We know that Crowley is brave enough to stand against Hell when it counts, even when it could mean his own death.

But I'd argue that in the case of Job and Sitis, it's personal. He's angry about this bet because it cuts to the core of the reason he Fell in the first place. This isn't about getting one over on Hell; it's about God. And we know that because the moment Crowley intervenes at the end, the moment he runs into a room full of archangels with no plan and no allies except an angel he's still not sure he can trust, is the moment where Sitis snaps.

Sitis is surrounded by impossibly powerful beings, the only human in the room save for her husband, who still refuses to fault God for anything. She is distraught, raging at the unfairness of it all, the callousness of the angels who have shown up to congratulate her even as she drowns in grief for her children who will never grow up. (Plenty to say here about star nurseries, about wasted potential, about futility and senseless endings--but this post is too long already). So she says so, because what else does she have to lose? If my children are dead, then I will curse God--

Enter Crowley. That never ends well, he says, barging in with a big silly grin, but we've seen Crowley as an angel, now, and we know what he means: I know how that ends. I know how it ended for me. I won't let you Fall the way I did.

This is especially interesting because earlier in the episode, Crowley seems to be nudging Job the other way. I burn with fury, Job says, and Crowley says of course you do. (That's just how it started for me.) Crowley is encouraging Job to see things his way, zeroing in on the righteous rage he thinks he's hearing, because truth and knowledge are important to him. Crowley has never been able to stop himself from offering the apple, even when he knows the stakes. (See you in Hell.)

But then Job turns his anger inward. If he's being punished, he reasons, if he's so horrified by what must be God's will, then he must be the one at fault. (I lied, Aziraphale sobs, to thwart the will of God!) And Crowley is visibly confused, maybe even a bit frustrated. What do you mean? What have you done? And you know he wants to say, You didn't do anything wrong.

Neither of us did.

Because he knows. He's read the contract. He knows that Job is a good, kind man, and that he's done nothing at all to provoke God except to be the perfect pawn for Her game with Satan. He knows that if Job objects to the obvious injustice he's suffering, he'll be damned for failing a test he had no knowledge of and no hope of passing. And of course that feels familiar. How could it not?

The Job contract is as much confirmation as Crowley will ever get, from a God who answered his first questions with a Fall into boiling sulfur, that his suffering has never been 'deserved.' God is willing to take the best of the humans, Her special favorites, the ones his stars were built for, and cast them into damnation at the first sign of doubt. So when he Fell--

You didn't do anything wrong, Crowley is thinking, as he sees Job in his despair and Sitis in her fury and the children in their fear and Aziraphale in his guilt. And even if you did, even if you weren't perfect, even if you were angry and resentful and full of doubt, how could any transgression be worthy of this?

I'm sure plenty of people have talked about how the flashbacks in S2 are from Aziraphale's point of view, and course the purpose of that is to show the audience how he comes to his decision in 2x06. We follow Aziraphale closely this episode, from when he first hears about the contract to when he decides to lie to the Supreme Archangel's face. It's an important story beat for him, one of the high points in his character arc. This episode isn't about Crowley, really--it's about what Aziraphale thinks of Crowley, and about Aziraphale's long journey to discovering his own sense of right and wrong outside of Heaven's dogma.

But that means that we never see Crowley accept the assignment to kill the goats. We never see him worry over the danger he'll be in if he refuses. We learn that he's going against Hell only when Aziraphale does. Crowley isn't the kind of person to stew in self-reflection--he spends millennia doing his best to outrun his own emotions--but even if he was, we as the audience aren't often privy to those thoughts. Crowley is as closed-off to us as he is to Aziraphale for most of S2's flashbacks.

But we still get more than enough to understand exactly why Crowley is so disgusted by the offer to return to Heaven. Because the one scene in the Job minisode that happens before Aziraphale shows up, and one of the only scenes in the flashbacks that takes place from solely Crowley's perspective, is this speech:

You should know why you’re about to die. God has abandoned you. The god who claims to love you, who demands your praise, has given you up to be destroyed.

Bad luck.

[slut4thebroken]

Smut Prompt List

Trying something new :) send a request for Jason Todd (disclaimer: there’s a small chance I’ll write for him since I’m not hyperfixating on him anymore but it’s not zero lol) or any of Cillian’s characters that I’ve written for and I’ll do my best to write it lol. (Be sure to specify if you want the character to be dominant or submissive cause some of these can go either way lol)

I got these from a few different creators (@mypoisonedvine @dumplingsjinson @sxcret-garden-archive @hawksredfeather @landhoesnorris @organparanormal @thestressedskittles) and just picked the ones I liked.

"where are you going dressed like that?"

"it's not what it looks like!" "is that a picture of me?!"

"do you really think that toy can replace me?"

"what would they think if they saw you right now?"

"I didn't know you could be so obedient."

"no, I'm in charge tonight, remember?"

"if you keep doing that, this might end a little too soon."

"is it just me, or does your celebrity crush look a lot like me?"

"what happens next in your fantasy?"

“You look good with my hand around your pretty little throat.”

“Do you feel that? Feel what you do to me?”

“Like the stretch?”

“Look how pretty you are, taking all of me.”

“If I have to pull over, you won't be able to walk for a week.”

“Did I say you could stop?”

"That's not how we ask for things, is it?"

“Fucking is a reward, but you haven’t been good.”

“Move an inch and you won’t be coming tonight.”

“You’re so in for it when we get home.”

“Just a little more.”

“I won’t apologize for marking you up, everyone should know you’re taken.”

“God, you feel amazing.”

“Swallow. All of it.”

“Come one more time for me, I know you’ve got it in you.”

“Show me how much you missed me.”

“Enough, please, I can’t take anymore!”

“What makes you think I’m going to fuck you?”

“Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t like getting off on my own.”

“Oh, baby, you’re drooling everywhere.”

“It’s my thigh or nothing, I’m not helping you get off.”

“You seem more sensitive than usual.”

“I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.”

“Where did this attitude come from?”

“God, you love it like this, don’t you?”

“You know I’m holding back from fucking you over this kitchen counter, don’t push your luck.”

“Why not tonight? I’m even wearing something pretty.”

“Why are you being so gentle with me? I like it when you’re rough.”

“Does it make you nervous when I stare?”

“It’s hot when you talk back.”

“You’re so messy.”

“Your thighs are shaking so much.”

“Be good for me and I’ll untie you.”

“That’s good, baby, keep doing that.”

“I was good while you were gone! I didn’t even touch myself.”

“You’re still horny? Didn’t I fuck you hard enough last night?

“don’t give me that look”

“no panties. you need me that bad?”

“i don’t care how good it feels, you better not come until i tell you to”

“i bet you think you’re real cute letting them put their hands all over you. we’ll see how cute you look later when i get you home”

“you’re in trouble now”

“you keep acting like a brat and i’ll take you over my knee right here. i don’t care how many people are watching”

“want some help with that?”

“come here. you can sit on my lap until i’m done working”

“you look so pretty on your knees like that”

“suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me”

“such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

“pushing back against my fingers already? how pathetic”

“don’t fucking touch what isn’t yours”

“what are you doing in my bed?”

“is that a tattoo?”

“you know i don’t like to be teased”

“just shut up and fuck me”

“aww, poor baby. do you want me to take care of it for you?”

“i see the gift i got you fits well”

“This cock isn’t going to suck itself”

“I want to fuck you against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it”

“You better watch your fucking mouth”

“I guess I’ll just get off all by myself then”

“I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one will notice”

“YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!”

"Keep your hands away or I'll fucking tie them behind your back."

"Please, come inside me, I wanna be filled."

"Let me come in you, please. I wanna fill you up."

"You wanted this. You can take it."

"Look at the mess you're making."

"Suck on it. Come on."

"Such a good little pup/girl, aren't you?"

"You talk too much. We need to put that mouth to use for something better."

"Is that gonna fit?" "I'll make it fit."

"Use your words, sweetheart."

"Doesn't that feel so good, baby?"

"This is why I get off to you every night by myself."

"Hurry your ass up and sit on my fucking face."

"What's the matter? Can't form a sentence?"

"Look at you... you think you're in control."

“That’s sweet and all but do they touch you the way I touch you? Fuck you the way I fuck you? Mm, yeah, didn’t think so.”

“Let me take care of you, yeah? I’ll do the work.”

“Gonna fuck you until the only word you remember is my name.”

“Shh, just a little more…”

“You’re taking me so well, baby.”

“Oh, I can think of many ways to shut you up right now.”

“You want to come?” “Y-yes, I— please—” “Hm, but do you really deserve to?”

“F-Fuck, I don’t think I’m gonna last long if you keep doing that.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Stop fucking teasing me and get to it already.”

“Oh, the things I’d do to you if we were alone right now…”

“Look at you, squirming under me, all flushed and pretty looking. Can’t even take a little teasing, can you?”

“Oh, sensitive there, aren’t we?”

In a hoarse whisper, “Fuck, you’re killing me here.”

“But you think about me when they’re fucking you, don’t you?” “I… That’s not true.”

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?”

“Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re bossy.”

“S-Stop leaving marks on my neck. I have a presentation first thing in the morning.” “Then I get to leave marks anywhere below the neck?”

“You only get to watch.” “B-but—” “No buts, sweetheart.”

“I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”

“Spread your legs for me.” … “Spread them wider.”

“I’m not done with you yet.”

A whispered, “Then come for me,” right next to their ear after they beg for release through tears and soft whimpers, because they’ve been edged for way too long.

"you promise you're going to behave this time?"

“Beg and maybe I’ll think about it.”

“Say my name.”

“Keep your eyes on me.”

“Open your mouth for me, baby.”

“I want it. I want to taste you.”

“I need it! Please!”

“I can't- please I can’t-”

“i told you, you’re mine”

“i’m going to ruin you”

“don’t make me tell you twice”

“If you want to cum you have to beg”

"Look at yourself, all fucked out. Pathetic."

"Is this what you wanted, angel?"

“I’ve been wondering what it feels like…”

“I can’t believe you’re this innocent…”

“Makes me want to wreck you.”

“You’ve never even touched yourself?”

“Show me how you do it when you touch yourself.”

“I can’t wait to take your innocence.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Teach me how to make you feel good.”

“I wanna touch you too.”

“Is it going to hurt?”

“So excited already…”

“Are you sure this is your first time?”

“I’ll guide you.”

“Can I… can I please touch myself/you?”

“Mine. All mine.”

“Doing so good for me, sweetheart.”

“Say please.”

“P-please just”—a sob—“I just need you to fuck me.”

“All yours. Only yours.”

“I want you to say my name like that again.”

“Only I get to ruin you like this, you hear me?”

“You like that, don’t you?”

“I-I promise I’ll be good.”

“God, you feel so good around me.”

“So wet/hard for me already, huh?”

“Turn around.”

“What did I just say?”