#substantial-exposure

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

This made me smile so much omg 😋🤭 very wild that some people recognize me by my writing style, but I am so glad that you found my blog again and that the fic definitely didn't disappoint! 💖💕

Better Than Sleeping

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary:

You and Jason are friends with benefits. Though you have come to realize that the relationship doesn’t always ‘benefit’ you when he ends up annoying you after a long, tiring day of training.

(He quickly makes you come to see that his annoying persistence can benefit you, even if you would never admit it aloud.)

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader. Friends with Benefits. Smut. Set during Season 2.

Word Count: 5,300

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Warning: This fic contains Dubious Consent. One character ‘wears down’ the other and ‘convinces them’ to have sex, and both of them display verbal consent that goes against their true actions and desires (they say no to having sex when they do truly want to) and they think of convincing the other person to agree as a kind of ‘game’. It is a relationship that is playful in nature, and this consent is based on bodily queues, facial expressions, and knowing a person’s safety and comfort based on being in a relationship with them for a period of time. If this makes you uncomfortable, please don’t read the fic.

List of detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: friends with benefits, this is primarily a smut fic, the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina, Jason is more dominant and the reader is more submissive (once the sex begins), the reader could be considered a brat, Jason calls the reader ‘babe’ (it is a canon event), Jason calls the reader ‘baby’, Jason calls the reader ‘good girl’, dubious consent - coercion (please see the above for an explanation about this), mentions of masturbation (watching someone masturbate), mentions of fucking someone to sleep/fucking someone while they are asleep, mentions of free use kink, mentions of cumming inside someone/unprotected sex, marking/biting, groping/touching through underwear (reader receiving), orgasm denial (toward the reader), ‘just the tip’,teasing, there is a point where Jason’s dick is inside her without a condom but he doesn’t cum, and he puts on a condom before fully penetrating (what would you call that?), begging, slight mentions of subspace (but it’s more so described as a lustful drunkness), there is implications toward the end of fucking someone to sleep/fucking someone while they are asleep with their permission. I believe that is everything.

A/N: This is definitely one of my favourite things I have written. I thought maybe I was going to edit it some before re-posting it, but I was rereading it the other day and I actually realized that it's really good the way it is, so here you go - some random cocky Jason smut, inspired by the 'just the tip' trope. I hope you enjoy!

...

You knew that becoming a Titan was never going to be easy. 

But fuck, this was a lot harder than you imagined it would be. Dick Grayson was quickly becoming your least favorite person. Between the 5am wake up calls and the endless workout routines, paired with the bland ‘nutrient filled’ meal plans he had everyone on to ‘fuel your bodies’ for training - he was becoming a menial drill sergeant that you couldn’t get away from. One of the only things that made it better was the fact that you had friends around - the ability to joke about him with Rachel, Gar, and Jason behind his back. Was it a bit mean-spirited? Yes. Did you feel less guilty about it whenever he added more onto the training routine? Also yes. 

You had no clue when these skills you were working so hard on were ever going to come into play. Every single night, Dick retired himself into the comms room full of computers to ‘monitor the city for threats’ - but he seemingly never found anything worthy of the team’s attention. At least not yet. So you went about the routine of training hard, becoming exhausted, falling into bed to sleep and then doing it all over again. 

Oh - and there was the other thing. The not so occasional part of your routine where Jason fucked your brains out. The fact that the two of you had developed a mutually beneficial relationship to help ‘relieve’ each other when you were horny, a quintessential friends with benefits situation. But with your muscles sore from training and your entire body so exhausted, that was the farthest thing from your mind on this night. 

After a long, hard day of training, the last thing you wanted to hear was a knock on your bedroom door. You hoped that it was simply Gar asking to borrow some of your body wash again (because he liked the smell), or Rachel asking you to kill a spider in her room, and not Dick alerting you to some surprise training drill that he had suddenly thought up. 

You shoved your pajama top over your head, finishing getting changed for the night, and rushed across the room to the door. When you opened it, you barely had time to gauge if you were pleased or displeased at seeing Jason before he spoke. 

“I’m horny.” He announced abruptly, being very abrupt about delivering his feelings. 

But it was in character for him, and didn’t surprise you in the least. 

You hated that your stomach jolted at his words, even if just out of Pavlovian habit. It had been only two days since the last time he had fucked you. He had caught you in the shower in the morning, snuck into the bathroom with a condom between his teeth and opened the shower door to join you while you were distracted meditatively washing your hair. It had been steamy, soapy, slippery, and goddamn wonderful. 

But it had left you sore and stiff before training, and you were wondering how much give and take there was - if you truly needed his cock. 

“Hello to you too.” You said, your tone just as dead tired as you felt. 

You wouldn’t admit that you were a bit horny too. You were tired, and you wanted to go to sleep. So that made you annoyed with his presence. (It should have made you more annoyed than you were.) 

Jason bit his lip, raking his eyes up and down your body with an intense heat lurking there. You glared back at him. 

Jason was intensely attractive. He was a good looking guy, that was just a fact. And while you did enjoy the way he was looking at you, staring you down like you were a porn star when you were slumped with exhaustion, wearing baggy old pjs with mascara smeared on your face with sweat, your hair a mess from the day - there was barely a spark stirred in your stomach at the idea of fucking him right now. You were just too damn tired. Dick had been running you all into the ground, instituting the same training that Batman had given him, and it was fucking exhausting. 

“So - can I come in?” Jason asked. 

He gave you a very expectant curl of his lips and tilted his head toward you when you didn’t say anything for a few seconds. You just stood there and stared at him bitterly. 

You sighed hard through your nose, not wanting to answer the question. 

Fucking him might be nice. A good orgasm before bed. But you needed to put what little energy you had left into your nightly routine and then get a good, long sleep before Dick woke everyone up at ass o’clock again. 

“No.” You finally told him. “I’m going to bed.” 

You turned and walked back into your room, but left the door open. You hoped that he would get the hint to leave on his own. You grabbed your bottle of makeup remover and a cotton pad and began taking off your makeup. 

You weren’t so lucky. 

“I’ll go to bed with you, babe.” He announced proudly. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. 

He then came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. You felt the half hardness of his cock pressing into your ass as you wiped away your makeup with stern hands. You tried your hardest not to let him wear you down, even as you felt a tingle between your thighs. He was used to training this hard, so it wasn’t as exhausting for him. Clearly, he didn’t understand how tired you were - how badly you needed the rest. 

“Go get in your own bed.” You barked, your tone becoming more strained. 

As you leaned closer to the mirror to inspect your face, to make sure that you had gotten all the tiny specs of makeup off, you unintentionally arched your back, pushing your ass much closer to his crotch. Jason let out a quiet moan and you caught him smirking at you in the reflection of the mirror. 

He leaned in close, draping his warm body entirely over your back, trapping you there as he put one hand on the dresser and the other on the wall and leaned his body weight on you. You could have shoved him off you if you wanted to - but as you felt a tingling heat creeping up your back, you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to. 

“Come on, babe.” He sighed into your neck. 

His hot breath on such a sensitive place caused a shiver through you that you would deny. 

“Why are you being like this? You know if you want a good sleep, getting fucked nice and hard is the best way to get it.” He told you, so entirely cocky. “My cock will put you right to bed, baby.” 

The words sent a hard jolt of electricity through you, settling a hard heat through you from your gut all the way to your face, burning uncomfortably through your skin. Combined with the way he ground his increasing hardness against your ass, you were forced to suppress a whimper. 

It made you even more annoyed with him - the fact he could play your body like an instrument he had finely tuned. And you reacted with that intense annoyance. 

“Why can’t you just masturbate like a normal person?” You scoffed at him, entirely firm, not giving away an ounce of weakness in your voice. 

“As if.” He held intense disgust in his voice at the very idea. 

He gave another firm dig of his hips, causing you to be pressed into the sharp edge of the dresser - a small twinge of pain that only added to the heat growing in your stomach. 

“Why the fuck would I resort to touching myself when I have the sweetest pussy ever to fuck right down the hall?” Jason explained. “But ya know, if you want to watch me jack off, that can be arranged.” 

Instead of responding to that, you just rolled your eyes. You hoped that he wouldn’t notice that subtle shift of lust in your features that said this was definitely a new fantasy of yours because he had brought it up. 

“You can’t deny that you need it too.” Jason whispered into your ear. 

“I need sleep.” You grunted in return. 

You then shucked out of his hold, using one of the evasive maneuvers that Dick had taught you in training, ducking under Jason’s arm when he wasn’t expecting it. Before he could blink, you were across the hall and in the bathroom. It was mostly because you knew that if you stood there any longer with his warm body pressed against your back, you would have given in far too easily. 

Naturally, Jason followed you. 

He stuck by your side through your entire night time routine, trying to wear you down. You weighed the pros and cons in your head without truly listening to him as the exhaustion seeped into your bones and battled with the lust growing inside of you. 

Jason brushed his teeth standing next to you in front of the sink while you brushed yours, all the while mumbling excuses through his toothpaste about how the sex would be good aerobic exercise to help with your training. By the time you got to doing your skincare, you ended up putting a face wash and moisturizer on him just to mentally drown out whatever he was saying - something about orgasms and endorphins and how it helps mental health. 

As you pulled back the covers to finally settle in, he snuck his way into your bed under the guise of ‘just cuddling’. Though you weren’t anywhere near convinced of that sentiment, you didn’t kick him out of the room or protect. You were surprised, but grateful when he took off his shirt, laid down, and seemed to finally shut up. You weren’t sure which you were more grateful for - the quiet or the stunning eye candy of his tight body on full display. But you didn’t question the fact that he had finally stopped nagging you. 

You crawled into bed beside him and settled into his arms. You gave him a kiss on the cheek as a goodnight (knowing that if you kissed him on the mouth, it would turn into something more heated). It was only about two minutes after you shut off your bedside lamp, shrouding the room in darkness, that the talking began again. 

“You could sleep through it.” He noted quietly. 

You sighed with deep annoyance. 

“If you want to. I could be gentle about it.” 

His voice continued on from behind you as he spooned you, one arm under your head underneath the pillow and the other laid almost possessively around your waist. 

Of course, he didn’t even have to be too descriptive for you to know what ‘it’ was. 

The idea of him gently fucking you while you fell into a lazy sleep was entirely too appealing. But he didn’t need to know that. He didn’t need to win. Especially not after you had put so much of your very little remaining energy into deterring him all night. 

“Go to sleep.” You told him with a huff, shoving your head further into the pillow. 

He simply chuckled. 

You hoped that if you just ignored him, he would shut up and go to sleep. 

You would never admit to him that heat bloomed in your stomach at the idea of Jason crawling into your bed when you were already in a deep sleep, using you for his own selfish pleasure and leaving you sore and full of cum to wake up to in the morning. 

“Hmm… no.” He replied, as easily as a petulant child, his breath fanning out over your neck once again. 

Your heated thoughts easily blossomed into a moan from your lips when he latched onto your neck without warning. He picked a particularly tender spot, sucking hard with teeth and the fullness of his lips, easily knocking the wind out of you. You shoved your heated face tightly into your pillow, praying that he wouldn’t notice your reaction. That he wouldn’t realize he so blatantly had you like putty in his hands. If he knew that, he would know that he could just take whatever he wanted and you wouldn’t protest. Not in the slightest. 

Jason already knew that. But he wasn’t just going to pull down your shorts and slam his cock into you. As much fun as that would be - he wasn’t barbaric. Plus - now that he had one of your sweet little sounds in his ears, he wanted more. He wanted to hear you beg for it after denying him for so long. 

He moved his arm from being so tightly around your waist, and pushed your shirt up. You tried your best to put up a wall of indifference toward this. He began skimming his touch oh so lightly along the roundness of your stomach, right above the band of your shorts. You knew he felt the shiver that ran through you, but you refused to say anything. You weren’t pretending to be asleep at this point, but it was a game to the two of you. You still refused to give in. 

But he was playing to win. 

He shoved his hand into the waistband of your shorts, touching you outside the fabric of your underwear. His skin felt like he could have burned you, even through the fabric. You had to make a conscious effort not to buck forward into the touch. When his fingers skimmed across your hotly beating clit (when had you gotten so turned on?) you swallowed another whimper and steadied your voice. 

“Jason.” You said his name firmly, like a warning bell. “If you don’t behave yourself, I’m gonna kick you out.” 

“I don’t think you will.” He whispered into your neck, defiantly cocky once again. 

He sucked another hard, hot mark onto your skin as he cupped your pussy whole in his palm and began grinding the heel of his hand against your clit. 

You let out a wobbling moan and your body thrashed, your energy so depleted that you could no longer hold back your body’s natural reactions to him. You were met with the hard wall of his body behind you, so firm and perfectly hot as he pressed himself tighter into you. 

He gave a satisfied grin into your skin and only doubled down, putting more pressure on your throbbing clit and causing hot waves from that point, adding to the rolling boil that raged under your skin. 

With the beautifully firm pressure and Jason’s talent, the way he knew your body so well, you could have come from this alone. Especially as the pleasure throbbed through your core, your underwear became more soaked through and it was all so beautifully smooth and wet. 

Jason began grinding his cock - still trapped inside a pair of sweats - against the back of your thigh. He groaned into your neck when he felt a pleasurable tingling of his own spreading through his gut, though he craved to be inside of you. As much as he was enjoying this - the sweet, needy sounds falling from your lips, the way your thighs clamped around his wrist, as though desperately trying to keep him in place while your hips humped against his hand like a bitch in heat - he knew that he needed more. 

And he was going to make you beg for it. 

When he felt the signature twitch of your legs that said you were about to cum, he stopped. He held his hand completely still, his strong arm easily pinning your hips down to the bed to prevent you from humping against him and simply taking what you needed. In that moment, he even curled two of his fingers up to shove the fabric of your underwear inside of you slightly, creating a sharp sting that reminded you just how empty you were feeling. 

“Jay-!” You let out his name in a petulant whine, about to scold him for the ruined orgasm, but he cut you off. 

“You gonna ask me nicely now?” He rumbled into your ear. “Admit you were wrong?” 

You wanted to bark out ‘either make me cum, or go to your own damn bed’ - but you knew that Jason was just as petty as you were. At that point, he would have gotten up and left for his own bed just to prove a point. 

“You’re keeping me awake right now.” You huffed out, trying your best to sound annoyed. (Which wasn’t too difficult, considering how badly the ruined orgasm had frustrated you.) “My point still stands.” 

Of course, sleeping was the farthest thing from your mind now. The sexual frustration had injected a new wave of energy through you, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to rest until you were truly satisfied. 

Unfortunately, Jason knew that too. 

“Okay.” Jason sighed quietly, giving a click of his tongue. 

He then completely pulled his hand out of your shorts and pulled away from your body. It seemed like he was moving to get out of the bed - you worried you had accidentally triggered that signature pettiness in him. 

But as usual, Jason Todd surprised you. 

You bit your lip to hold back a cheer when he reached for the waistband of your shorts and underwear pulled them down all at once, exposing your hot, soaked cunt to the cool air of the room. (At some point, the blanket had been accidentally shoved off you.) You took a glance over your shoulder and of course, he was shoving his pants down to his knees. You caught a glimpse of his long, thick, hard cock bobbing out of the fabric in the darkness. But you didn’t dare to spend too much time admiring it, for fear of making him too cocky. 

You relaxed against your pillow in satisfaction, waiting for Jason to grab a condom out of the bedside table’s drawer so that he could literally fuck you to sleep. 

You were surprised when he scooted back toward you, pressing himself right up against your back once more. He proceeded to simply press his hips against yours - his cock laid flat against the bare folds of your leaking pussy, immediately becoming slick with your wetness. But be made no moves to grab a condom or even tease you by pushing inside of you raw. 

(Which - yes, the two of you had agreed to always use condoms, but it was secretly a fantasy of yours that he would go against the rule because of his overbearing need to feel you raw - or even the need to cum inside of you). 

But instead of doing any of that, Jason seemed to be settling in to relax. 

Jason draped himself across your back, wrapped his arm around your waist again, and gently laid his head on your shoulder. But he made no effort to move, or fuck you. Your pussy throbbed with need, feeling the hot, hard length pressed against you, entirely unmoving. When you clenched around nothing, you let out a wave of slick that you knew he could feel right on his cock. You felt a groan catch inside his chest, but still, he didn’t move. 

“Jason.” You breathed out, having to question him after a few more moments of silence and stillness. “What are you doing?” 

“Going to sleep.” He answered, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I thought you wanted me to just shut up and leave you alone so that you could get some rest?” 

That. Little. Shit.

You resisted the urge to elbow him in the face. 

Obviously, being so close to you, he felt your entire body tense up with anger and annoyance. He was only able to partially hold back his satisfactory laughter. When the quiet snickers met your ears, you became even more annoyed. 

“Jason.” You scolded him gruffly. 

“Oh? I’m sorry,” He said, entirely sarcastic. “Did you want something?” 

“Did you want something?” You parroted back, mocking his words in a childish voice. 

Essentially, you had no more clever comebacks left. He had won. 

“I guess I can give you something for your troubles, babe.” Jason sighed, as though it were a grand inconvenience to him. “Maybe just the tip, though.” 

“Just the tip.” You sighed, finding yourself repeating his words once again. Though this time your voice was dead and sarcastic rather than mocking - mostly because you didn’t believe him. 

You knew that in Jason land, ‘just the tip’ meant slamming his entire cock into you after the tip lingered in your entrance for a moment. You clenched down on nothing again at the thought. 

Once again, you were expecting him to grab a condom so he could fuck you freely without worry. You were surprised when he peeled his body away from you slightly and reached down to grab his cock. After a moment of rubbing the fat cockhead along your folds to get it nice and wet, he did as promised and pushed the tip inside. 

It was the first time he had ever been inside of you without the barrier of a condom, and feeling his hot, raw skin touching yours - even just a little bit, made you gasp. 

“Jason!” 

Your voice was whiny even to your own ears, so needy for him after so much teasing. Upon instinct, feeling that painfully empty ache coming from deep inside you, you arched your back and attempted to shove your hips toward him - attempted to pull more of his thickness inside of you. But Jason was quicker, and he had his hands on both your hips, shoving you down onto the bed so hard and fast that the tip of his cock fell out of you with a wet pop. 

It was a sound that made heat beat through your cheeks, and the feeling of his wet cockhead brushing against the backs of your thighs took your breath away. 

“Oops.” He chuckled, and moved to slot himself back into position.

You had no clue why it was so dizzyingly hot. 

But this time he held you down firmly so you couldn’t simply fuck yourself back onto his cock. You moaned as the thickness of the cockhead popped back inside of you - you yearned for more, but he stayed still. 

After a moment, he began to move his hips so slightly, feeding no more than an inch of his cock into your throbbing cunt before pulling it back out. It was an entirely careful movement on his part where he fed you the first inch, and didn’t let the tip pop out again, in pathetically shallow thrusts that could barely be called sex. Your pussy ached, tingled, yearned for more. 

You mentally cursed Batman for teaching him such good self discipline and him using it for this.

“Jason.” You whined, trying fruitlessly to fight against the firm grip he had on your hips in order to fuck yourself on his cock. 

“What, babe?” He chuckled, leaning down to kiss a line across your shoulder. 

“You know what.” You replied, your tone even more frustrated and whiny. 

You wiggled your hips desperately, trying to get more of him inside of you. You yearned to feel the perfect ache of his thick cock splitting you open, hitting all of those perfect spots so deep inside of you. 

“No, I don’t.” He told you, his voice somehow steady and confident. “You’re gonna have to spell it out for me.” 

You couldn’t see it or feel it, but his hips were trembling and his abs were tight with the pure resistance of his self control. All of the energy he was using not to slam his cock into the tight, warm velvet of your cunt, especially as he felt it leak so freely around the tip of his cock, knowing how badly you needed him. He wanted nothing more than to watch you whine and babble and fall apart on his cock - but he wanted to win just a little bit more. 

There was a distinct pause. The last shreds of your own stubbornness hanging in the air, even as your cunt throbbed with need. 

Even if Jason couldn’t see your face from this angle, he could feel the warring in your body. He knew you too well. And he knew how to break you down so perfectly. 

“If you want anything more than this,” He told you, emphasizing the point with another pathetically shallow thrust. “If you want anything more than just the tip of my cock,” His voice was low and silken and creating even more heat that almost drowned you. “Then you’re gonna have to beg for it.” 

“Fuck you, Jay.” You whined out in protest, once again trying to fight his grip on your hips to fuck yourself against him. 

He viciously dug his fingers into the fat of your hips, causing a sharp sound from your throat at the beautiful pain. 

He leaned down and pressed his lips to the back of your neck, and growled out his next words in a low tone that dragged through your insides in the exact spot where his cock should have been. 

“Come on.” He urged you on. “Fucking. Beg.” 

That was when you broke. 

At least you hadn’t given in too easily. 

“Please,” You whined out breathlessly. “Please, fuck me! Fuck me, Jason! I need it.” 

“What else?” Jason asked expectantly. 

You could have killed him. But when your desperate cunt unconsciously clenched down on the fat head of his cock and you felt yourself growing only more hot and needy, you knew that there was only one thing to do. 

“I’m sorry, Jay, I should have - I should have just asked nicely in the first place. I do need it. I need your big cock inside of me so badly.” You poured it on thick, emphasizing the last words in the most pornographic voice you could muster, hoping that he was running low on self control as well. 

And he was. So he was very satisfied with this. He grinned into your skin, leaving a surprisingly tender kiss on the back of your neck before he mumbled out ‘good girl’ - something that made you moan out sharply. 

You let out a sharp noise of disappointment when his cock popped out of you again. 

“I need a condom.” He told you, giving you a reassuring pat on the ass. “As much as I’d love to cum inside you, we do have an agreement.” 

You weren’t sure which was hotter - his sex-thick voice admitting that he shared one of your deepest fantasies, or the fact that he was caring so deeply for you, making sure that he protected you with a condom even when you were in that floating headspace and willing to let him do just about anything do your body. 

Your mind was swimming contemplating it, and next thing you knew it, he had the condom on successfully. He then slammed his cock inside of you in one firm, smooth movement. Any thoughts were easily pounded out of your head by the practiced movement of his hips.

“Better now?” Jason grunted into your ear. 

You could practically feel his smugness radiating through his cock, spearing into you. 

But you were now alight with intense pleasure, warm satisfaction rolling through you - so you couldn’t bring yourself to truly care about how smug he was. Every bit of cockiness he had, he did back it up with a pretty big dick that he knew how to use well. Not that you would ever say those words aloud to him. Not even on your deathbed. 

“Just shut up and fuck me.” You ordered, though it was breathless and had no bite. 

“As you wish, babe.” He replied, and then doubled down - his hips fucking into you with an intense fury. 

You moaned like a whore at this, finally feeling that dizzying fullness that you had been craving since he had snuck his touch into your shorts. Jason drank up your sounds and easily wanted more - more of your perfect pussy squeezing around his cock, more of that wetness coating his inner thighs, more of that filthy wet smacking as he fucked into you. 

He leaned down, draping his body fully over yours once again, creating a pleasantly smothering weight on top of you as you laid on your stomach on the bed with your face nearly drowned in the pillow. He slowed the pace of his hips to a dangerous torture of a grind, fucking you so deeply now that you were sure you could feel him coming up inside of your throat. You let out a wounded noise, and he hushed you gently. 

“Shh, babe, I’ve got you.” He whispered into your ear. “Gonna make you feel so good.” 

He moved one of his hands from your hip and shoved it between your body and the bed, and once again he was cupping your mound fully in his hand - but this time there was no fabric barrier, and he was settled deep inside of you. It was filling your whole body with lava, turning every place he touched you to boiling ash. You were sure that you would have dissolved into nothingness if not for the anchor of your cunt hanging onto his cock, keeping you grounded in reality with that slight nip of pain as your muscles clenched onto him. 

“Now say thank you.” He told you, his voice so gruff in your ear, so thick with desire that it made you dizzy. “Thank me for giving you my cock.” 

He used two precise fingers to rub circles on your neglected clit, immediately sending shockwaves through your body that made your muscles jump and jolt. 

You gulped for air and struggled to move your face out of the fabric of the pillow, and Jason saw this. He moved his other hand and slid it under your cheek, gripping under your jaw to fully lift you up. 

He stilled his hips completely once again, causing a pained sound to emanate from your lungs as you clamped down on his cock deep inside of you while he continued to relentlessly work over your tender clit. He gave you a couple of seconds to catch your breath. But you were so cock dumb that you had to be reminded of the goal. 

“Come on, baby.” He encouraged you, pressing his lips to your cheek that he wasn’t holding onto. “Say ‘thank you’.” 

“Thank you.” You easily repeated back, now completely pliant to his desires. “Thank you for-for your cock.” 

“Good girl.” Jason praised you once again. 

Then he began fucking into you once more - it only took a few careful thrusts of his hips and the talent of his fingers on your clit to finally bring your orgasm to life. He shoved his tongue into your mouth as you screamed through it, imitating some sloppy version of a kiss while you flailed and creamed on his cock, your body becoming truly boneless and tired as the orgasm rocked you. 

When it was finished, he was still throbbing hard inside of you, and you let out a whine of disappointment. You were absolutely dead tired now, and you couldn’t even think of how much energy it would take to finish him off. Mister ‘Twice In A Sunday’ could last quite a long time, and that didn’t exactly work for you in that moment. 

“You can go to sleep now, babe.” He whispered into your ear. “I’ll clean you up when I’m done.” 

He began thrusting into you once more, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift closed. 

It ended up being a good night for both of you.

[anxi04]

kon ends up developing a pretty substantial kryptonite immunity and it’s purely cause supers are just…. weak ass motherfuckers with pain. yeah sure it dampens their powers and hurts like a motherfucker but with exposure and not just dealing with a large amount of pain very shortly and only once every so often kon just pushes through it.

he refuses to explain how though and that’s cause he let tim just poke him with a sharp kryptonite shard to get used to being around it so it’s not so jarring when it happens and then he stubbed his toe and sobbed like a bitch and he decided he needed to get higher pain tolerance.

kon refuses to explain how because he is not telling everyone he cried over a stubbed toe and that was the tipping point and tim refuses to explain cause he doesn’t need people think he’s going into supervillain territory again.

this does get revealed by kon getting stabbed with a very sharp shard once on a mission with clark and clark panicking while kon just takes it out and puts it in a container he keeps with him now. he then looks clark dead in his eyes and says “what you think that’s bad? you’re just weak. loser.” and then continues on as normal

there was also a period of time where kon had a kryptonite necklace so he could get piercings without messing the recovery process up. it was a very difficult time period cause he couldn’t take it off or else the piercings would heal way too quickly.

[philosopherking1887]

More good things the Biden administration is doing: OSHA heat safety rules for workers

Remember when Texas and Florida passed laws preventing local and municipal governments from implementing their own heat safety rules and said that if heat is such a big problem, OSHA should make rules that apply to everyone? If not, NPR can remind you. OSHA has now accepted the challenge, moving much faster than they usually do:

OSHA National News Release U.S. Department of Labor July 2, 2024 Biden-Harris administration announces proposed rule to protect indoor, outdoor workers from extreme heat WASHINGTON – The U.S. Department of Labor has released a proposed rule with the goal of protecting millions of workers from the significant health risks of extreme heat. If finalized, the proposed rule would help protect approximately 36 million workers in indoor and outdoor work settings and substantially reduce heat injuries, illnesses, and deaths in the workplace. Heat is the leading cause of weather-related deaths in the U.S. Excessive workplace heat can lead to heat stroke and even death. While heat hazards impact workers in many industries, workers of color have a higher likelihood of working in jobs with hazardous heat exposure. “Every worker should come home safe and healthy at the end of the day, which is why the Biden-Harris administration is taking this significant step to protect workers from the dangers posed by extreme heat,” said Acting Secretary of Labor Julie Su. “As the most pro-worker administration in history, we are committed to ensuring that those doing difficult work in some of our economy’s most critical sectors are valued and kept safe in the workplace.” The proposed rule would require employers to develop an injury and illness prevention plan to control heat hazards in workplaces affected by excessive heat. Among other things, the plan would require employers to evaluate heat risks and — when heat increases risks to workers — implement requirements for drinking water, rest breaks and control of indoor heat. It would also require a plan to protect new or returning workers unaccustomed to working in high heat conditions. “Workers all over the country are passing out, suffering heat stroke and dying from heat exposure from just doing their jobs, and something must be done to protect them,” said Assistant Secretary for Occupational Safety and Health Douglas L. Parker. “Today’s proposal is an important next step in the process to receive public input to craft a ‘win-win’ final rule that protects workers while being practical and workable for employers.” Employers would also be required to provide training, have procedures to respond if a worker is experiencing signs and symptoms of a heat-related illness, and take immediate action to help a worker experiencing signs and symptoms of a heat emergency. The public is encouraged to submit written comments on the rule once it is published in the Federal Register. The agency also anticipates a public hearing after the close of the written comment period. More information will be available on submitting comments when the rule is published. In the interim, OSHA continues to direct significant existing outreach and enforcement resources to educate employers and workers and hold businesses accountable for violations of the Occupational Safety and Health Act’s general duty clause, 29 U.S.C. § 654(a)(1) and other applicable regulations. Record-breaking temperatures across the nation have increased the risks people face on-the-job, especially in summer months. Every year, dozens of workers die and thousands more suffer illnesses related to hazardous heat exposure that, sadly, are most often preventable. The agency continues to conduct heat-related inspections under its National Emphasis Program – Outdoor and Indoor Heat-Related Hazards, launched in 2022. The program inspects workplaces with the highest exposures to heat-related hazards proactively to prevent workers from suffering injury, illness or death needlessly. Since the launch, OSHA has conducted more than 5,000 federal heat-related inspections. In addition, the agency is prioritizing programmed inspections in agricultural industries that employ temporary, nonimmigrant H-2A workers for seasonal labor. These workers face unique vulnerabilities, including potential language barriers, less control over their living and working conditions, and possible lack of acclimatization, and are at high risk of hazardous heat exposure.

[cbrownjc]

Hi there! I'm sorry if this feels super obtuse and it has been ages since I read the novels, BUT...

After this recent episode I was a little confused about what Armand had done to infuriate Louis and Daniel so much. If he simply wiped their memories so neither Louis or Daniel didn't remember everything that went down, that doesn't seem so awful, especially since what went down WAS awful. So I think I must have missed something substantial because I was distracted by my cat, or something. 😅

BTW I love your blog and all the fantastic insight you provide! I used to be ride or die with IWTV but haven't paid much attention to it in the last 15-20 years, so I'm finding it immensely helpful for getting back into the swing of things!

Hello!

So why Louis and Daniel are so angry at Armand isn't because Armand simply erased their memories. (And, to be clear, their memories weren't actually erased, but just clouded over and blocked). Armand rewrote them. Armand basically reprogrammed Daniel and Louis' minds after the OG interview, Louis' mind especially.

That was what that final scene was about, what it was demonstrating. The answer that Louis gave at the beginning of the episode, as to why Armand saved Daniel's life in 1973 was a word-for-word repeat of what Armand's own answer was at the end of the episode to that same question.

The answer wasn't something Louis truly felt wrt his own real feelings. It was something Armand put into Louis' mind to think and say about the incident after the events of it from Louis attacking Daniel on were blocked and clouded over.

As @virginiaisforvampires notes here, the way Louis speaks of Lestat in the OG interview vs the new interview is very telling wrt that reprogramming done. Yes, in the OG interview, Louis was talking down Lestat in spiteful ways, but it was all surface-level stuff. Just saying that the way Lestat spoke revealed how stupid he was and that he wasn't at all skilled when trying to play music.

That is all a far cry from the things Louis has said and spoken about in the Dubai interview about Lestat. Lestat's crimes, as they are being talked about in this second interview, are not just surface-level transgressions said to simply make Lestat angry and draw him out, as Louis was originally trying to do back in 1973. The crimes of Lestat laid out in the Dubai interview, in contrast, are very much there to justify the murder of Lestat.

Because without that justification?

Well, we see that starting when it comes to the false memory -- yes, false -- of Louis thinking Claudia couldn't burn Lestat. Louis thinking that -- that Claudia couldn't burn Lestat -- would take away Louis' guilt at having stopped Claudia from trying to burn Lestat if it was something they both couldn't do. Especially if the killing of Lestat had been justified.

But if there was no justification for killing Lestat? Then the reason Louis stopped Claudia from burning Lestat was because Louis knew that killing Lestat had been wrong. Louis knew it the night Claudia did it, which would be the real reason why he stopped her from burning him.

And because Lestat didn't burn, because he was still alive, that led to the events of the trial in Paris and what happened to Claudia there. And what is looking to be the show's version of the Merrick reveal about Claudia's true feelings wrt Louis. Which, in the book Merrick, the revelation of that is what sent Louis to try to destroy himself via sunlight exposure, as we saw him try to do back in 1973 -- which the cocaine and other drugs that were in Daniel's blood had Louis unable to either ignore anymore -- or lifted a veil that had been placed over his mind about it until then.

Do you see the cascade effect in all of this?

And look, maybe some will see what Armand has done here as not that awful, but Armand didn't do it just to try and protect Louis. That was very damn clear when he didn't relay Lestat's full "I love you" message to Louis after Louis' 1973 attempt to end his life. It's because part of Armand very much still wants to live with the illusion that he and Louis can be happy together, even after what happened in Paris and Armand's role in those events.

I've said before that Armand's flaw when it comes to love is that he will go way, way, WAY overboard to obtain or keep love. And this is all just, once again, him repeating that pattern. Armand rewrote Louis' memories of both Lestat and Claudia's actions all to try and assuage the true guilt and pain Louis has over everything that happened and Louis' own role (mostly due to his own inactions) in it all that has led to such suicidal guilt about it, but also because IMO Armand wishes to hide -- as much as he can -- his own role in everything that happened as well . . . and all of this so as to keep Louis by his side so that Louis doesn't leave him -- be it for Lestat, or even in death.

Armand isn't being altruistic in his reprogramming of Louis' mind and memories. Because really being so would have been not only telling Louis what Lestat was trying to relay to Louis back in 1973 but then probably having to let Louis go as well . . . let Louis go back to and be with Lestat, the person who Louis was trying to draw the attention of with that whole OG interview in the first place.

Honestly, I see the whole situation as kind of expanding on this line of Louis' in the book, as he and Armand are breaking up:

And when I came to Paris I thought you were powerful and beautiful and without regret, and I wanted that desperately. But you were a destroyer just as I was a destroyer, more ruthless and cunning even than I. You showed me the only thing that I could really hope to become, what depth of evil, what degree of coldness I would have to attain to end my pain. And I accepted that. And so that passion, that love you saw in me, was extinguished. And you see now simply a mirror of yourself.

With the rewriting/reprogramming of Louis' memories, this is very much what Armand has created with Louis in many ways -- a mirror of himself. The pieces of himself that Armand blocked and changed had Louis "knowing who he was" . . . but who that person is, isn't the real Louis. Just a reflection of the person who made those changes.

So yeah, that is where the anger is coming from. Moreso Louis than Daniel when it comes to the rewriting aspect of it all I'd say; Daniel is likely just angry that his mind was messed with in the first place. One thing you can say about Daniel is that he's brutally honest, even when it comes to his own foibles. He's the type who'd rather know all the horrible shit that happened to him, than not.

Anyway, I'm glad you like my blog and comments about the show, and I hope this answer explains some of it for you. 🙂

[evidence-based-activism]

what are your thoughts on the whole situation with the women’s Olympic boxing competitors Andrea Carini and Imane Khelif? I don’t know why feminists are so mad about it, Imane is a cis woman or has an intersex condition, either way she’s not a man.. I thought feminists were supposed to support women winning

https://www.reddit.com/r/Fauxmoi/s/taXu5IeFZc

Hello!

I expect you also sent the ask with the following link: https://www.tumblr.com/assignedmale/757629682153897984?

So, my short answer is that the situation is complex and I don't believe we have enough information to come to a definitive conclusion. In addition, the current cultural context about "trans athletes" is only exacerbating the already complex issue.

---

My long answer:

My understanding of the situation is that Khelif is a biologically male individual (i.e., "of the sex" that produces the small gamete/sperm) with a difference/disorder of sexual development (DSD, commonly referred to as "intersex") and was, as a result of this DSD, assigned the female sex at birth.

I want to take a moment here to point out that this is the exact sort of situation the AFAB/AMAB labels were created for. The vast majority of individuals are not "assigned" a sex, they are observed to be a particular sex (OFAB/OMAB?). It is in this sort of situation, where the sex is ambiguous or incorrectly determined that the “assignment” comes into play. Further, I will be referring to all AFAB individuals as "she", given the sociocultural context in which biologically male, AFAB individuals are raised and treated as women.

That being said, the participation of people with DSDs in competitive sports is an ongoing, contentious debate that is both separate from and related to the debate about the inclusion of transwomen in women's sports.

In reference to Khelif, it appears as though the original regulatory agency for boxing (IBA) disqualified her on the basis of her DSD. However, they have lost their position due to (either claims of or actual) corruption. The IOC defaulted to determining eligibility based the sex listed on the athlete's passport, which for Khelif is female (as she is AFAB).

The issue here is we do not know what her DSD is. The IBA claims she has XY chromosomes, but there are multiple conditions this can occur with. For example, as described in [1]:

Individuals with 5ARD2 are "genetic males and exhibit phenotypic male features at puberty and during adulthood". They are "raised as girls during childhood" but "usually develop a near-normal male phenotype" after puberty.

Individuals with complete androgen insensitivity syndrome (CAIS) have "no tissue response to testosterone and no masculinization" even at puberty where they can develop a "near-normal female phenotype". This is despite them having testosterone in the "normal adult male range".

Individuals with partial androgen insensitivity syndrome (PAIS) "show a range of phenotypes with progressive masculinization depending on the degree of androgen insensitivity".

Just based on this, the best solution for each of these may be different. For example, it likely would be unfair for someone with 5ARD2 to compete in the female category, although it would be reasonable for them to compete in the male category. On the other hand, it would likely be unfair to prevent someone with CAIS from competing with other women, even with their male-typical testosterone levels.

And speaking of testosterone:

The same article [1] describes how men's testosterone level is substantially greater than women's levels, even in women with PCOS. (If you look at the article, make sure to take note of the log-scale. It highlights that the mean/median level in any male subgroup is more than 5 times the mean/median level in any female subgroup.) But again ... does the amount of testosterone really matter if the tissues don't respond to it (as in CAIS)?

In contrast, this study [2] also takes note that "testosterone exposure at puberty had unique effects such as changing skeletal structure and limb length which estrogen exposure to later in life cannot suppress" in males without a DSD. So, it's unlikely that artificially lowering the testosterone in individuals with 5ARD2 or PAIS (or males without a DSD, as in transwomen) would resolve the advantage.

So ... there are clear and significant differences in testosterone between men and women, even when they have a DSD. But in some cases (e.g., CAIS) the difference may not be relevant, and in other cases (e.g., artificial hormone suppression) a lack of difference may not be relevant.

I mention all of this to highlight how the situation is nuanced, and why I don't think we can make any judgements about Khelif. But I also want to explain how this situation is, in fact, connected to the "trans athlete" debate. It's a matter of public trust —specifically public trust in the athletic regulatory agencies.

Currently, there are regulatory boards that are making decisions that are neither consistent with biological realities [1, 2] or public opinion [3-5]. These decisions allow unambiguously biologically male individuals to compete with women.

Now to be clear, this particular case (Khelif) does not fall into this category. The problem here is one of trust: how can the public (or the other athletes) trust these regulatory agencies to make sound and fair decisions on complex cases involving DSDs if they can't adhere to scientific consensus on far clearer situations?

This is important, because athletes also deserve medical privacy. I am aware that public figures are often expected to give up a degree of their personal privacy rights (although I disagree with the extent of this). However, I expect most people will agree it's unreasonable to expect an athlete with a DSD (or any other medical condition) to release the extensive amounts of personal medical information needed to prove it is fair for them to compete with women. This is why we need trustworthy regulatory agencies, so that the public and other athletes can know that this information was provided and appropriately assessed without it having to be made public.

(And none of this touches on how the current disregard for clarity of language (e.g., claiming transwomen are "biologically female") has created so much confusion that many people seem to believe Khelif was AMAB.)

---

In addition to all of that, the harassment and vitriol being directed at both women in this situation is excessive, unhelpful, and harmful. I've seen racist and misogynistic comments that black women are "more masculine". I've also seen misogynistic comments that Carini is "weak" for exiting the fight. Slurs are being directed at both women, and in neither case is that acceptable.

I understand why the tone of this debate is so hostile, but I do not support the behavior.

For the comic: the claim that "science and experience shows trans athletes on H.R.T are at a disadvantage" is false (see [2]). The rest of the comic neglects to consider the nuance of the situations and the current cultural context. That being said, most people arguing that Khelif shouldn't compete in women's sports are also ignoring the nuance of the situation.

---

All in all, I do not think we currently have enough information to draw any conclusion or make any decisions about this specific situation. That being said, the current sociocultural context has inflamed this debate, created confusion, and eroded public trust in the parties responsible for making the aforementioned decisions. I personally consider that to be the more relevant issue.

References under the cut:

Clark, Richard V., et al. “Large Divergence in Testosterone Concentrations between Men and Women: Frame of Reference for Elite Athletes in Sex‐specific Competition in Sports, a Narrative Review.” Clinical Endocrinology, vol. 90, no. 1, Jan. 2019, pp. 15–22. DOI.org (Crossref), https://doi.org/10.1111/cen.13840.

Luu, Tyler. “Should Transgender Athletes Be Allowed to Compete with Cisgender Athletes?” University of Toronto’s Journal of Scientific Innovation, Feb. 2022, pp. 59–65. jps.library.utoronto.ca, https://jps.library.utoronto.ca/index.php/jsi/article/view/38091.

Brown, Kim Parker, Juliana Menasce Horowitz and Anna. “Americans’ Complex Views on Gender Identity and Transgender Issues.” Pew Research Center, 28 June 2022, https://www.pewresearch.org/social-trends/2022/06/28/americans-complex-views-on-gender-identity-and-transgender-issues/.

Where Does the British Public Stand on Transgender Rights in 2022? | YouGov. https://yougov.co.uk/society/articles/43194-where-does-british-public-stand-transgender-rights-1

Where Americans Stand on 20 Transgender Policy Issues | YouGov. https://today.yougov.com/politics/articles/48685-where-americans-stand-on-20-transgender-policy-issues.

[reasonsforhope]

"The Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) finalized a rule Tuesday [April 9, 2024] that will require 218 chemical plants to reduce toxic and carcinogenic airborne pollutants, aiming to reduce the number of people with elevated cancer risk by 96% nationwide.

The rulings principally address chloroprene: used to make rubber products, and ethylene oxide, used primarily for sterilizing medical supplies. Long-term exposure to these chemicals and their manufacturing have been identified as possible carcinogens, or cancer-causing agents.

According to a report in the Washington Post, this can include lymphoma, leukemia, breast cancer, and liver cancer.

Across a strip of Louisiana and Texas where half of the 218 chemical manufacturing facilities set to be affected by the new regulations are located, cancer rates of these kinds are substantially higher than national averages, leading it to be colloquially called “Cancer Alley.”

EPA Administrator Michael Regan visited Cancer Alley during the open-comment period of the proposed ruling, and said that across the 85 miles dotted with communities, he failed to meet a single person who didn’t know a loved one or friend who had either developed cancer, died of it, or knew someone who had.

Once implemented, the ruling will reduce more than 6,200 tons of toxic air pollution each year, according to the Post."

-via Good News Network, April 15, 2024

[usedpidemo]

Shangri-la (Oh My Girl Yooa)

Thank you for the commission! I hope it's to your liking.

—————

“What the?”

What welcomes you inside the bedroom takes you by complete surprise. It’s the kind that leaves you with more questions than answers. She had been very vague about the whole ordeal, skittering around the details. she was completely straightforward about one thing: to get fucked. That’s the main selling point.

Her inviting tone, her sultry expression, her lust—it’s still freshly imprinted on your mind from an hour ago. You’ve heard those words—their many variations—a handful of times, but hers is by far the most enticing and the sweetest sounding:

“Wanna have sex with me tonight?”

—————

Admittedly, it was never on your bucket list to attend a concert, let alone a group who sings primarily in foreign. It was supposed to be just a kind gesture for a roommate.

He’s your resident nerdy K-pop fan, the kind that gets bullied in real life and on the internet. He’s the full package; posters on the bedroom wall, a book full of photocards, and a shelf of albums and lightsticks which he considers as his sacred temple. You were never meant to go beyond a toe’s dip into this unhealthy obsession he’s engrossed himself in; completing his homework was enough exposure. 

If there was one takeaway from your observations, it was quite obvious: the girls are really hot. And that’s all that you needed to convince yourself to go. 

Besides, you were his roommate—and his only friend. Out of the kindness of your heart, you have an obligation to be there for him, at least until you graduate.

For the most part, the show was entertaining. Again, the girls were pretty attractive, and they were dressed in outfits that flaunted their bodies exceptionally well. Your friend’s relentless screaming accustomed you to the crowd’s energy, which was no joke. Even in a small, intimate venue, there were several moments where you felt that the place might collapse off the audience’s deafening shouts alone. At least you came prepared with noise canceling earplugs.

It’s not a huge surprise when he suddenly vanishes after the show. He’s been in and out of sight the whole time; getting freebies, merch shopping, taking numerous bathroom breaks, to the point where he just straight up forgets he left his phone with you before running off again. 

To make things worse, it’s the dying moments of the night, when everyone in the VIP section, the two of you included, gets to greet the members for only a brief passing moment. He’d been acting like his entire life has been building to this moment, completely neglecting the fact you were his ride home. 

Of course you’re not entirely sure about who’s who in this group. Six equally pretty girls, all wearing the exact same shirt and short skirt combination, down to the colors, with equally warm smiles. You didn’t have enough time to familiarize yourself with each of their names; the internet in the area has been failing you for hours. The staff was strict with phones the closer you approached them. It didn’t help that everyone screamed through their introductions, too.

Unsurprisingly, nothing substantial came of your interaction. A series of repetitive, awkward bows and near-silent whispers of “hello.” You’ve been putting off Duolingo for months, and it showed. It should have been a forgettable affair, considering the hundreds of people they’re greeting just from tonight’s queue alone. It’s not like you particularly stand out from the rest of the crowd; a casual shirt and jeans combo that’s indistinguishable from the dozens in attendance, and you don’t have anything on you that screams ‘overly dedicated fan.’

So when you’re pulled aside by the same staff closely watching the queue during the meet and greet, asked to head backstage as part of some secret lucky draw, you’re not surprised. There’s an age-old superstition that states that you’re more likely to meet celebrities the less you’re familiar with them. It rings true, and you have first hand proof.

You’re led to this singular door in what’s basically an unused narrow hallway. The kind that criminals use to trap their victims. Definitely safe. The staff member instructs you to head in before leaving you there alone. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Instead of your friend, you find one of the members you just met, waiting on the other side. You have so many questions, but she she gives you another to entertain:

“You wanna have sex with me tonight?”

Much to her amusement ,you’re taken aback. At first, you’d think she was pulling some kind of prank. By the way she smiles and laughs, it’s a reaction all too familiar to her, like this is some kind of cliche. It’s not a surprise to hear those words from any girl, knowing your experiences at college parties and bars, but from a traveling singer? Simply put, it’s quite ridiculous.

“You’re joking right?” you say, hand close to the door you just entered, ready to make a beeline for it. You glance around the enclosed, compact space, searching for any possible hidden cameras recording the scene.

She shakes her head, taking a step forward. “Not at all. You should consider yourself lucky.”

“Do you do this all the time?” you ask, her reply not easing you in the slightest. Your hand inches a little closer to the door. It’s not like she’s going to hurt you; if anything, her thin figure’s probably what should worry her if you dare to even breathe heavily on her, let alone touch. 

“Yeah. Every stop. You look really cute,” she says, reaching her hand out to you. “And you look like you can give me a good time tonight.”

There’s something flattering about her words, coming from an idol singer, complimenting you that hits a chord harder than other girls. Her sincere tone, doll-like eyes twinkling, and expressive lips certainly help. It’s alluring—devastating—to a casual like you; how much more to someone who worships her. 

Then, here comes the killing blow:

“So, what’s it going to be?” She kisses you on the chin, wrapping her arms around your neck. It’s not suffocating, not in the slightest, but you might as well be entangled by them. Her eyes, sharp and fiery, are daring you to say otherwise to her seemingly coarse question. 

Leaning your head against her shoulder, her scent and soft skin prove to be intoxicating. You can’t get enough. That hand you’ve been pressing on the door is no longer there; it’s coiled around her back, taking inventory of her slim waist and arched back, then teasing at the fabric of her shirt. Even if she wasn’t the girl you just watched perform on stage, she’s too gorgeous to turn down. And it isn’t like you’ll find your friend, anyway. Perhaps this is your way of getting back at him for being insufferable all throughout.

“Here?” you ask, whispering in her ear, playing with fire. 

She holds you by the cheek, tilting an eyebrow. Shaking her head, she drags her tongue on the ridge of your ear. “Somewhere nicer.”

—————

It’s only you and her in the backseat of one of their vans, windows tinted and the front closed off that it’s safe to assume that the driver can’t hear you—perfectly convenient. He probably doesn’t know you’re even there. 

It’s inside the car that you finally become familiar with each other. YooA, or as she’d prefer you to call her, Shiah, and you have this light bulb moment where you put it all together. You bring up this collection of photocards in your friend’s book holder; you recognize her face on some of the cards. She laughs. Heartily. Her face lights up, honored at the thought, and it’s a sincere look. Other artists would simply wave it off and move on, but she appears intrigued by the effort to obsess over her.

She calls it a bias, and you call it an obsession. In the other’s eyes, you’re both strange. To you, it’s unhealthy and strange; to her, it’s part of the appeal, part of the culture.

So it’s all the more surprising when you admit you’re simply there because of him, that you would have looked the other way otherwise. And in response, she has this warm, wholesome smile; she doesn’t appear offended by your candidness. You don’t know a thing about them, other than they’re delicious eye candy.

“So this is your first foray into K-pop? I hope it was a good one,” she says, flashing you a cute pout. “That means a lot for all of us.”

Yeah, you nod, your eyes wandering down her slim body, draped in darkness, only brought to the light by passing street lamps. You notice how slender and lanky she is. It doesn’t change the appeal; she’s unreal. “I should go more often if that’s the case.”

Shiah chuckles. “You didn’t pay, then. I bet you’re getting more than what he bargained for.”

To which you nod, barely holding in a particularly uncharacteristic grin. She catches it. An opportunity to twist the knife.

It’s a casual affair when you reach the hotel. There’s a surprising lack of fanfare upon your arrival. You assume idols have as much popularity as any other celebrity, but you’re both left alone—and without security, walking past the front desk without a care or a question. Tension gradually builds as you climb floor after floor, until you step out that elevator and into her room, away from prying eyes. 

What welcomes you inside Shiah’s bedroom catches you off-guard.

“What the?”

The person sitting at the center of the bed turns to your direction, shouts out your name. You can recognize that voice anywhere.

“Hey! There you are!”

You immediately turn to Shiah, who replies gleefully, “Of course I knew. Your friend told me everything. He wanted me to invite you along.”

Forget that your friend orchestrated the whole ordeal. It’s the fact that he wants you to join him in a threesome. You expected him to be greedy with the rare opportunity to have a beautiful idol all to himself, but instead, he’s somehow still involving you in the action. There’s a lot to take in, and you don’t exactly know where to start.

“Is this even allowed?” you ask, unsure of your place in this room. You’re slowly soaking up the scenery; none of it makes any sense. Scattered on the bedroom floor is Your friend’s shirt and his bag, freebies and personal belongings alike,, while Shiah casually saunters around the mattress, gradually removing pieces of jewelry from herself and placing them on the nightstand.

“Of course, dude!” says your friend. His energy hasn’t waned in the slightest. You’re amazed his voice hasn’t changed at all, let alone his ability to speak. He had been screaming beside you for the entirety of the show, you’d probably go deaf because of him if not for your earplugs. “I wouldn’t have asked her if she wasn’t allowed to, or if she didn’t feel it.”

“He’s right,” adds Shiah, unbuttoning her jeans. Looking at her again, she grabs your attention with the casual stripping of her pants, pooled around her ankles, leaving only pale colored panties that leave nothing to the imagination. “Plus, I haven’t tried having a threesome before, and tonight seemed like a good idea to try that.”

Surely, you’ve heard weird things before, but none were as out of pocket as this.

“C’mere dude,” says your friend, gesturing to you to take the spot beside him on the bed. “We’re going to fuck an idol tonight. And not just any idol, my freaking bias!”

Your eyes continue to linger on her. Shiah, now undoing her top, candidly tossing them aside. The one time you regret not having your phone on hand to capture without obstruction. Her tits are bite-sized handfuls, nipples firm and on full display, and her figure is so paper thin, you’ll break her when you hold her by her ridiculous proportions. The only thing missing is some fragile warning label plastered on her skin as a reminder to handle her with care.

This is the most awkward you’ve been with your friend since you first met, when he first moved into your dorm. Seated on the mattress, you’re anxious of what’s about to happen. You worry she won’t be able to handle you two; he worries that he won’t be able to ruin her to the fullest extent. 

She meets you at the center in nothing but panties. She scans you both from head to toe, and notices your contrasting expressions. Facing you, she says, “Hey. I wouldn’t do this if I wasn’t confident about the idea. If you don’t make me unable to walk after tonight, I’m gonna be quite disappointed. So chin up.”

Reassuring of a tone it may sound, it doesn’t ease your worry even a little. It doesn’t discourage her either; it’s part of the challenge.

She drops to her knees, and that’s when you come around on the idea. Her fingers make work of your pants; yours first, then your friend’s. With eagerness written on her face, your hard cocks hang between her tiny face. Pausing, undecided, she takes a moment to think which one to satisfy. The way she eyes both yours, then your friend’s—you can tell how hungry she is: how she wants them shoved inside her mouth, down her throat, taking all that delicious load. If she could fit both at once, she certainly would.

“Which one should I take first, boys?” she asks, innocuous sounding, her doll-like eyes pleading up with a playful pout. Knowing full well she already has this whole thing already planned out. You and your friend swallow hard, telepathically aligned, thinking of the same idea, based on the rather silent response.

Shiah has your eyes fluttering, hands already gripped to the edge of the bed, lips letting out a string of delightful moans. It sounds like relief, agony, and ecstasy all at once. She’s leaving soft kisses on your tip, her tongue running circling around your length, and her fingers slowly pumping at your base. All your doubts and hesitations, gone in an instant. The very few glimpses you catch of her, her eyes speak to you, staring, telling you to take it all in.

She feels so good, handles you deftly, as if she’s already acquainted with your cock, even though it’s the first time. Pushing all the sensitive, perfect spots and getting you into a steady rhythm. 

“See? I told you it was gonna be—fine—fuck—” 

Your friend folds just as quickly as you do, if not faster. His words, instantly reduced to echoed grunts, groans, and curses, his hand palming Shiah’s scalp. She’s focused, taking turns with each cock, kissing and teasing you both with the prospect of shoving it down her needy, thirsty throat. One hand on your dick and the other on his, stroking you at near-synchronized tempo, then vice versa. You wonder exactly why she’s even hesitant and nervous about taking two at once when she’s clearly a natural at satisfying cocks. 

She’s well aware that she has only one mouth to fulfill her craving for cock. There’s a look of regret every time she stops sucking one cock in place of the other. It’s almost as if she’s failing, even though the pleasure-ridden expressions on your faces say otherwise. “I hope this is good enough,” she frowns, taking a moment to plant another direct kiss on each cockhead. “I wish I could fit you both in my mouth, but I—”

“Shhh.” Your friend interjects, tugging harshly at Shiah’s dark locks, then rubbing his hand around her forehead. “You’re doing so fucking well, so much better than we hoped—”

Suddenly, he finds himself slowly crumbling. Precum coating around her dainty fingers, while he loses grip on his consciousness, lying flat on the bed. If there’s anything you’ve learned in the very short time you’ve had Shiah on her knees, it’s that she’s particularly gentle. You can feel she’s not going to ruin you instantly and that she’s nowhere close to crushing your cock, unlike some of the girls you’ve known in the past. 

This is all new to your friend, after all. It shouldn’t be surprising.

Still, she continues to pleasure you both, taking a moment to slip his erection inside her throat, slurping and swallowing his cock whole. Her eyes instantly slam shut, mumbling a songful hum, finally soaking in the taste after intentionally restraining herself from her lust. Turning to your side, your friend clearly can’t take her; his mouth agape, his chest heaving, breathing heavily, his eyes widely staring at the ceiling in a useless effort to distract himself. In his mind, she’s relentless, overwhelming, cruel.

Her eyes slide in your direction, brows furrowed, apologetic. You shake your head, smile lightly, perfectly understanding of the situation. It’s not that she’s ignoring you; her other hand’s pressing on the base of your cock, down to the underside, pressing on your balls. She’s already left her mark on you even though she’s doing the bare minimum. The layer of precum on her fingers is clear proof. That should be more than enough. 

And when you find your friend completely unresponsive, breathing through his mouth, you tilt your head at an angle and make this poor sleeping impression—something he hasn’t had in over 24 hours. It’s the command that causes Shiah to slip his cock from her mouth with a silent pop, his dick throbbing with her spit dripping from the tip. Her focus turns over to you; her eyes meeting yours, her hands pressing on each knee, and your fingers brushing loose strands of hair aside to see her pretty face, flushed but flawless. It’s now just down to you two. 

She gives your head a playful swirl, and you lift your brows in approval, subtly biting at the lip to show her you like it. Her eyes lock in, scanning through each subdued wince, waiting for the go ahead.

It’s the slightest head motion that nearly ends you. You’re uncertain if you even said yes or no.

Shiah looks so much better with your cock in her mouth than anyone else’s. She knows, too. You pause to take the sight in—your length buried deep in her mouth, occasionally poking her throat, her cheeks hollow, her eyes looking wide at you with a fiery glint, begging you to take her, use her, ruin her. You’re perfectly positioned to work her; your hand is palming the back of her head, giving her this assertive stare that appears demeaning, but you can tell she prefers to be seen that way. It would be criminal to have her on her knees and not have your way with her.

And you do just that.

You hold her still, using the little increments of strength to motion her into a bobbing motion. She surrenders herself into your control, moving her head back and forth with the grip of your hand. Like the swing of a pendulum, you watch your base disappear and appear between her lips. You’re nowhere close to burying yourself entirely in her mouth, but she feels so incredible, so intoxicating, she may as well be deepthroating you.

It’s not the firmness of her luscious lips kissing your cock nor her lewd expressions that shake you, but her suction. She hums this wistful note while sucking your cock—a song of satisfaction. In contrast to the steady rhythm you’re attempting to impose, she drags your length along her tongue, forcing you into this playful tug-of-war whenever you draw your cock back, directing where your cum should land. She envisions it: the notion of your hot load collected on her cheeks. Her fingers point where she wants them, using her pleading eyes and brows to entice you. 

And you’re not going to deny her request. She’s too charming and expressive to turn down. Even more so when your cock is lodged between her lips. 

You utter this particularly incomprehensible mix of a groan and a grumble while your throbbing cock unloads the warm cum she desires. Without wasting a single drop, she takes it all, puffing her cheeks with your seed while carefully pulling your cock out her mouth. Your hand is no longer resting on her head but rather around her shoulder and collarbones. She plays with the load in her mouth, gargling, swishing, before swallowing it all. Afterward, she sticks out her silky tongue, face completely flustered, showing you the aftermath: leftovers of your cum painting her mouth.

“God, Yoo—I mean, Shiah—” you breathe, lightly falling back on the bed as your legs go numb. Your flaccid cock isn’t enough to show how much she’s drained you in one fell swoop. “How are you so—”

“I told you I wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t so confident about it,” she remarks, rising to her feet before pushing you down on the sheets, straddling herself on your lap. Her energy remains steadfast. It’s infectious. Winking and pouting, she adds, “Now fuck me till I can’t walk.”

You’re completely sold on the idea, but you can’t do it alone.

Pushing Shiah off you, you shake your friend back into consciousness. You’re holding her by the shoulders, giving her lips a quick kiss. A soft gesture telling her to be a tad patient. Her eyes clue you in; she’s dying to be fucked, to be used, to be ruined. Your friend looks around, feeling hazy, completely unaware of what transpired, even though it’s only been less than 10 minutes. 

“What’d I miss?” he asks, still trying to make sense of things. The last thing he remembers is Shiah on her knees. Now he sees you and his bias in each other’s embrace. Surprisingly, he’s not fazed in the slightest. The bed’s tremors—rumblings—are good enough indicators.

You’re unable to completely look him in the eye, and you don’t know what to answer, so she does it for you: “Your friend blew a nice load inside my mouth. We were just about to have round two. Join us.”

To her amusement, the reply has you staring at her utterly gobsmacked. It’s not the fact that she’s telling it straight, with zero sugarcoating, but her candid, conversational delivery and deadpan expression, as if they’re close friends catching up on lost time. He doesn’t seem bothered, nor does he ask any further questions. Knowing him, he’d be disappointed if you didn’t. 

Really, what’s there to question when given an opportunity to fuck an idol without any conditions or red tape. He’s not making the most of the moment as you have, and the hurried jump off the bed to take position behind her indicates he’s not going to waste any more time. You’re scared you might get into a confrontation over how you’ll take her.

“Say the word and I’ll move aside,” you tell him, calmly. 

“Let me have her tight ass,” is the reply, straightforward. Chalk it up to tension, but there’s a hint of harshness in his voice, as though some bitterness is leaking. He subtly pulls her away from your side, prompting you to let him take full control. 

You aren’t surprised at where he ends up taking her. The bed is the comfiest option, but in his mind, the safest and the most cliche. A shower to ease the tension and stress in the muscles—that’s a good one too, on top of having her possibly pressed against the panels and the idea of soaping her tits while fucking her in the wet. This luxurious suite, which feels like walking from the one end of a parking lot to the other on weary legs, has a handful of mirrors to watch her get railed on. None are as captivating and inviting as the biggest one—the large glass windows that overlook the city, lit up by lights from nearby skylines and the illumination from the living room. 

He presses her tiny frame against the window, then on air, giving her tiny butt a firm slap. Followed by another. Something about Shiah with her back arched, yelping with each spank, arouses him. Her too. She whines, biting on her lip, hands trying to latch to anything. There’s plenty to claim—from her bite-sized chest, to her slinky waist, to her soiled panties. Something he slips down to her ankles. 

In the moment, your friend doesn’t acknowledge you. He’s all up in her hair, licking the shell of ear, a set of clenched digits digging into her warmth. Her eyes fluttering, she whines, pressing a hand around his waist, mumbling, begging, “Fuck me, please, fuck me.”

You can tell she’s apologetic, wants to be punished and manhandled like a naughty girl. Your friend has this glare in his eyes—a look of hunger. His fingers pump away at her core, without care for pace or comfort, just the satisfaction of hearing her cries and the need for her to cum. Bumping her against the window, he’s kissing her, claiming her as his own. Red marks form everywhere on her neck, collarbones, and back. Her entire body. All his. 

You let him. You watch. Not out of guilt, not out of arousal. It’s his moment.

He looks over his shoulder and finds you just watching. “C’mere,” he growls between muted groans, tone low. It should be awkward (it is) but all that tension disappeared the moment she got on her knees. Approaching the twosome in such a strange fashion, he continues to finger Shiah, shifting her away from the window, binding her from behind by one hand. He’s suppressing his tongue, teasing his cockhead against the entrance of her pussy, barely able to restrain himself. 

When you’re in front of her again, you’re greeted by a hot mess. Her juices are dripping down her thighs, pooling around her feet. His coated fingers line around her warmth, around her tight hole. His lust is on full display, cussing out a storm about how incredibly wet and tight she is while she prepares herself to get fucked into oblivion. It’s not the first time you’ve heard him say these things; he talks a loud talk about how he’d fuck his biases in explicit detail, writes particularly concerning essays about the positions they’d be railed in, how they would cum, and how many times he would make them cum. 

At the end of the day, it was none of your business.

And ultimately, he might have been onto something.

You let out this loud unsuppressed moan burying yourself inside her tight cunt. She’s suffocating, overwhelmingly tight—the kind of heat that can make you cum almost immediately. You’re still recovering from your first orgasm, putting you on the backfoot. Still, her walls are too inviting not to get hard again. Meanwhile, your friend, who’s been eager to fuck Shiah’s ass for the longest time, is in no rush. His cock is barely entering her tight hole, slowly easing himself inside her with deep breaths. He’s grabbing a handful of her flesh, openly moaning and grunting taking her.

“F-fuck, Yoo—” he mutters, grabbing at her petite cheeks with an ironclad grip. Pulling her closer to his body so his cock can split her in half. He’s growing greedy—and desperate.

Everything you’re doing to Shiah can be seen in the window’s reflection: you pounding into her tight cunt, your friend’s cock spearing her from behind, her body practically sandwiched between your twosome. The combined weight is more than capable of crushing her slim frame, her skin like tire marks on both your chests. Neither of you move with an understanding of working as a team, and it shows; your collective strokes are unsteady, erratic, chaotic.

This isn’t good for your back—at all. Shiah’s bent forward in part to your friend’s slow, deep thrusts into her delicious ass, rippling with each stroke. She’s clutching to your shoulders for support, screaming from the absolute depths of her lungs getting doubled up. The uncomfortable position is mostly clouded by the overwhelming sensation of your cocks tag teaming on her two sensitive holes. You’re leaning, steadily falling back. That inescapable warmth—that intoxicating heat—keeps you coming back for more, friction be damned.

God, Shiah’s pussy is so fucking perfect.

And that’s what you end up muttering. In an endless choir of ecstasy-charged moans, profanities, and wet sloppy slaps of skin against skin, you throw those words out to the wind. So good, so tight—those doubts you had entering the room, now just thoughts from yesterday. She’s everything you want in a satisfying fuck; your hands intertwined with her waist, rocking her frame with every plunge, savoring each entry into that needy womb.

It’s no surprise then that she cums so soon.

It’s been slowly building to this moment. The signs were there all along; the blink and you’ll miss it patch on her jeans, the phallic object in her purse, the wet puddle forming on her panties, the not so subtle gestures she’s giving fans between performances—she’s been desperate to cum on a cock and her wish can finally be granted. 

In dramatic fashion, she’s all over you. Clinging to you like her lifeline, showing you how you’ve ruined her. Body trembling, legs quaking—the ripples send shockwaves through your body, also in the process of falling apart. Throwing out her hips, a new layer of juices coat both cocks, dripping to the floor. You’re there to break her fall, but you have nothing to stop yours. 

Passing through deaf ears, her screams revert to soft pleas. “Cum, cum in me—please—fuck—” she whines in bursts, riding out her climax in waves, waiting for you two to join her over the edge. You’re preoccupied with the raging fire in your loins, restraining your urge to release your seed inside her needy cunt prematurely. At this point, you’re almost done, holding onto the last of your resolve not to spurt right then and there. The layer of her slick coating your cock doesn’t do you any favors, either.

Propping her body straight, your thrusts remain relentless. Steadied pace, at your own will, rocking her senseless—that’s how you want to finish inside her. You want to keep her in that position: cupping her tiny chest, wrapping an arm on the neck, resting a hand on your light shoulder. Shiah’s body is the perfect plaything.

All of that is too good to be true.

“Cumming, gonna cum—” you mutter, rather ashamedly, though you’re holding up better than anyone ever expected, especially after already orgasming once. You press her to your friend, almost a flat out shove. The line couldn’t be any thinner. “Shit—”

Your legs are on the cusp of crumbling, but at least they’re generous enough to let you savor this moment. Spilling your pent up need, you fuck that remaining cum into her. It’s fulfilling, euphoric. All the proof is down there, dripping between her legs and on your cock. The sight of her splayed, wrecked hole, oozing with seed, tempting you to stick a thumb around her slick core. She squirms at your sensitive touches, still needy and in want.

Only after the orgasm does your vision clear again. It’s an amusing scene; your friend is still pounding into Shiah’s tight ass at a feverish pace. Last one in, last one out—at least you think, that’s how the saying goes, until he lets out this guttural groan, indicating he’s reached his own climax too. If not for the setting, it’s an accomplishment worth cheering, the kind that’s worth a celebration of a life milestone. Cocks buried to the hilt, the sight of her holes spilling seed never grows old. 

At least you both can agree on one thing: staying inside the welcoming warmth that is Shiah’s heat. Neither of you want to leave, even when you regain mobility in your legs.

You’ve got the rest of the night to ruin her, leave her room hobbling or crawling on her feet. Your friend has a bucket list of positions to fuck her in, so it’s the least of your worries. Besides, both of them know you have no intention of leaving. And in the middle of this non-existent conundrum, while your friend is leaving soft kisses all over her back as a victory lap, she takes a moment to glance at you both. Noticing the similarity of smiles on your faces and your supportive nature towards your friend, she’s reminded of something she shares with her members, apart from the fact they’re getting railed at this very moment:

True friendship.

—————

(A/N: Expect a bit more crowdedness aka more-somes over the next few fics. I also haven't written an Oh My Girl member since Arin in over a year, so that's one off the list! This one took a while, had a whole other story involving roadtrips and hitchhiking, which I ultimately scrapped. Thank you for reading!)

(P.S. If you want to have your own story/idol written, you can ask for a commission :D)

[foggyfrogss]

⋆ HIEMAL ₊˚.

tf! Sukuna x f! Reader | Warnings: MDNI, Sexual Content

Chapter One - Next Chapter - Masterlist | ᴡᴏʀᴅs: 7.3ᴋ - Discord 18+

A/N: Considering we don't know much in regards to Sukuna's past... I hope I do my best in portraying that in my story. In the beginning he is human but I will tell the story of how he turns into what he is now.

ʏᴇᴀʀ: 940 | ᴀɢᴇ: 24

“I thought I told you to stop being careless when training,” you huff out in a quiet tone in rhythm with the crackling fire inside the Irori. Your words earn a huff of annoyance from the man who sat in front of you.

The overall atmosphere was thick with rising silent tension as you wiped away the blood from Ryomen Sukuna’s shoulder. His tight skin flexes under your touch.

“What would your father do if he found you tending to the wounds of someone like me?”

You’re stunned by the gruffness of his voice. The sudden exposure of emotion being rare, especially from him. You sigh.

You had stopped your movements with the cloth. Moving it away from his shoulder to dip it back into the bucket of warmed water. His wound had stopped bleeding now.

“My father has no say in what I choose to do. I’m a grown woman, Ryomen.” You tell him but it earns a grunt from his lips. Why did he always have to be such a brute? At times the stoic, tough-guy act had irked you to no ends, like now. “You are a Nobleman’s daughter. To be seen with someone as me,” he begins, suddenly turning to face you, “it would be considered immoral.”

The room had grown quiet once more, only the sounds of crackling twigs filling your ears as the two of you locked eyes. His intense gaze showing through to you even in the dimness of the room. It almost made you shudder as light chills prickled down your spine and through your arms.

Your fingers clenched around the drenched cloth to expel the tainted water from it, bringing you back to your senses.

“You know I don’t see you in that way…” you whispered softly to him. The words that came from your lips do no favor in relieving the suffocating tension that had begun to swell.

As you raise the cloth to continue tending to his wound, he snatches your wrist in his hand. The substantial size of it completely engulfing it. His long fingers squeeze but not enough to cause discomfort. It’s a comforting pinch, combined with the warmth of his fiery skin; it makes your body buzz.

“Define ‘that way’,” he demands with a squeeze of your wrist. All you do is swallow nervously at the sight before you. His sharp gaze darkening even further as he awaits your reply. You take in a deep breath, cursing at yourself internally for how shaken it had sounded. Waves of fluttering anxiety burst through you and pool in the base of your gut, feeling as if a kaleidoscope of butterflies had been released within you.

Angry, hungry, and eager butterflies.

Your legs had pressed together firmly, relieving yourself of the blooming heat that grew further below.

“A curse,” you begin, feeling his grip tighten even further as your smaller voice sounded, “an outcast. They’re scared of you.” The last sentence comes out in barely a whisper.

He releases your wrist from his hold.

A sudden gust of cold air that surrounds you as his abrupt stand almost puts you into shock. The heat from the irori nonexistent as you finally release a shudder. It was almost as if the air from the winter storm had made its way inside.

“Let me stitch it before you leave,” you quickly let out, noticing how painful it looked. “It’ll heal fine. It’s not that deep,” is all you hear him grunt out. His back is facing you again. The light from the fire illuminating the broadness of it. His fair skin glowing in a tasteful way as he gathers his kimono that pools at his waist where it’s tied. He hadn’t fully removed it, not intending to stay long in the first place.

You watch in awe, entranced by the way his back muscles flex under his skin. Once again you swallow nervously, but for a whole other reason. The heat in your body signaling you why.

“Let me help you,” you insist as you finally stand with him. His right shoulder, the one he’d injured, proved weaker as he slowly pulls up the kimono sleeve. Your much smaller hands meet his to take it from them, pulling the thick fabric over his shoulder neatly. He replies with a grunt as he accepts your help.

With no issue he slides on the other sleeve.

As he fixes how it sits on his body, your eyes scan the room for his haori. The black clump of fabric by the door probably it. You didn’t own any fabrics dark in color. Your mother and father kept you dressed in bright ones; noticeable colors.

You take the fairly weighty haori into your hands and pull it off the floor. It’s softness bringing a comfort to your exposed skin as you walk it towards Sukuna. He’d turned his gaze towards you, capturing your eyes with his own as he takes the article of clothing from your hands.

You assume the rest as you begin to help him guide his arm into the sleeves. With light movements you do the same as you did with his kimono.

“If it’s giving you anymore trouble-“ you begin but quickly you’re cut off by his deep voice, “I won’t. You have done enough.”

You’re left speechless as he ties the haori together.

The average person would have been hurt and confused by his blunt usage of words, but you weren’t a fool. You’d known him since your early childhood, where you were fortunate enough to see a man such as him smile freely with fervor. It’d been years since you’d seen his lips do anything but the scowl that rested there indefinitely.

Though at times, you did find your chest twisting uncomfortably at his words. Especially in moments like this where you wished nothing more than for him to stay here with you in the comforting warm silence.

You also didn’t want him to walk back to his home alone in the snow storm. He lived across the village from you. Located in the less fortunate side. It was at most a fifteen minute walk.

“You want to say something else.” He states rather than asks you. He’s turned his gaze away from you now, walking towards the door. His shoes were at the main entrance of the estate, where you’d walk him to so he wouldn’t get lost in such a grand house. “Perhaps…” you trail off nervously, holding your arms over your stomach as if you were hugging yourself. In the long length of your sleeve, you bunch up the fabric in your fists, doing what you can to calm your buzzing nerves.

Why were you so nervous?

“Perhaps, you could stay here tonight?” You ask him innocently, causing him to freeze his movements. His towering height causes you to bend your neck to look up towards him. The back of his head in your view as you wait for his answer.

Why had you even asked such an ignorant question? You were sure he’d decline-

Your thoughts are silenced by the deep sigh you heard come from him. A noise that proved rather rare from him. Ryomen Sukuna was not one to express his emotions. In any way.

He then turns, “I had not taken the snow into consideration. It would be quite troubling to return home this late with it coming down.”

It’s when you smile, his eyes widen in shock at the sudden expression from you. You knew you wouldn’t be getting a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ from the man. He was a mystery to all but you’d like to think you knew him best… at times.

“The only concern I have with staying the night is being found by anyone of the estate. What do you think they’d think?” He asks you with concern and you sigh, uncrossing your arms from your body to cross them over your chest. “You can just stay in my room-“ he cuts you off almost instantly. “You are not an idiot but your words are starting to prove otherwise,” he says and you chuckle. “If you would let me finish… you can stay in my room. The servants and my parents never disturb me unless something of important is happening that morning. In the midst of a snow storm, I think I can sneak you out early tomorrow with no trouble.”

Your words seem to calm the sudden tension surrounding Sukuna, but the scowl he holds still remains. “So be it.” He mumbles. You give him a warm smile as you walk to the Irori to smother the flames a bit. You wondered if you should just hunker down in this room rather than your own… the only sources of heat being here and the same on your father’s side of the house.

The servants frequented this area, sadly. It was futile and you sighed in defeat as you stood straight.

You usually hadn’t been bothered much by the winter temperatures as your bedding served you quite warmly… you just worried about your guest.

“Follow me,” you whisper as you slide the door open to leave. Immediately, the colder air of the house hits your exposed skin eliciting a shiver from you. You were sure the nervousness of having a guest was not helping your case.

After closing the door behind himself, Sukuna follows you down the dark hallway of your home. The creaking of the wooden floors sounding due to the sheer weight of his body. Each groan off the floor caused an inner grimace, leaving you more nervous as you slowly approached your room.

You only hoped it wouldn’t wake anyone up. It was usually always quiet, especially this time of night.

“Here we are,” you whisper just loud enough for his ears to register. He follows behind you swiftly as you enter the room. The scuffling sound of the sliding door closing makes you hold your breath. As soon as it shuts, you release it, breathing out in a huff.

In a quick movement, you’re in the corner of your room, finding the supplies to light the lantern. It didn’t provide much light, but once lit; you are able to find Ryomen Sukuna standing at the other side of your room. Its warm lighting manages to fill only that corner of the room in which you stood.

The dark corner holds the presence of Ryomen Sukuna. Orange light reflects from his glassy eyes as he stares back at you.

“I have a spare futon in the cabinet. Let me fetch it,” you mumble, hoping the thin walls at least muffle that level of sound. Sukuna doesn’t respond.

His presence in your bedroom is nerve wracking. You’d never had a man in such a intimate place before and if you were to be caught…

You shake the thoughts from your mind as you grasp at the soft futon roll stashed away. Once you pull it free; you lay it flat on the floor beside your own. A servant must have made yours hours ago.

Yet, when you realize how close he would be sleeping next to you; your eyes scan the room for any other possible arrangement.

The size of the room wouldn’t allow it. With the size he was, laying next to you would prove more comfortable.

Once laid flat, you drop to your knees to further fix the fluff of it. You’d let him borrow one of your blankets since you did not have an extra; at least in this room. You would rather freeze to death than risk being caught by anyone at this hour.

“You can use one of my blankets,” you tell him and he releases a grunt. “I’ll do no such thing.” He says with finality. Who were you to object against him when he spoke as sternly as he did. Though guiltily, you nod.

With a flicker, you notice the lantern’s light cascading into a lighter glow. The oil must have been low. You hadn’t checked it in a while and you weren’t sure when you actually did check it last. That meant you wouldn’t have to exit your futon to put it out; perfect, you thought.

As Sukuna lowered to sit himself on the plush futon, you turn towards your folding screen. It laid folded up against the wall, but you’d need to unfold it so you could change without Sukuna seeing. The thought of him accidentally catching a glimpse of you nude has your face fuming, but you quickly shake it off. You grasp at the bamboo screen; paper ruffling as you slowly unfold it. “I need to change out of this kimono. It’s rather uncomfortable to sleep in,” you explain quickly before walking behind it.

In a few quick motions, you shed yourself of your layers. You immediately felt the iciness of winter graze against your bare skin. Your teeth clench as you keep yourself from chattering them.

You had set the screen up with your cabinet behind it. It held your extra clothing, such as your white yukata, which you reached for. With haste, you put it on to keep any warmth you had left inside of you. It’s soft material already doing wonders as if traps your body heat it. The cold makes your fingers hard to move as you tie the yukata together.

You’d kept the thick socks you had on before.

When you stepped out from the cover of the folding screen, you catch Sukuna’s eyes. His dark iris’ stealing a glance before they quickly rip away. It sends a wave of heat through you, which you’re grateful for.

“Does the light bother you?” You ask him as you kneel down to your futon. Your icy fingers peel back the blankets so you can slide in with ease.

Sukuna shakes his head, “I’ve slept in much worse conditions.”

After tucking yourself into the depths of your futon and pulling the blankets over your body; you’re left with your thoughts. The silence of the room radiating around the two of you as you wonder what to do next. Should you bid him goodnight?

The sudden sound of wind slamming against the thin outer wall of the estate makes you jump. “It’s getting worse out,” you mumble as you glance towards the shut window of your room. The shutters had been latched already; probably by a servant. You sigh, tucking your chilled hands into any warmth you could find under your blankets.

You glance out of the corner of your eye to find Sukuna. He’d already laid flat. His large back facing you. For some reason, you felt disappointed. Did he already subdue to slumber? He’d been training extensively the last day and a half… perhaps he was more exhausted than you’d thought.

Alone with your thoughts, as you always seemed to be.

You find it hard to find sleep, staring above at the ceiling as the lantern flickers lightly. Its orange hue illuminating the room in a beautiful way.

It feels like an eternity passes as you wait for sleep, but it doesn’t seem to come. The only thing creeping up on you being the chills. Your feet were miserably icy and your hands ached. You wouldn’t be able to sleep at this rate, you thought. Yet, when you glanced towards the large sleeping man beside you… he was still.

Your eyes widened when you realized he’d been sleeping on his injured shoulder. He must’ve been tougher than you thought to do such a thing.

A shiver breaks through you painfully and you curl your legs into you. The fetal position you form being the best technique at keeping any form of heat in. Yet, you still shiver away. Teeth chatter quietly inside your closed mouth. You really hoped he couldn’t hear-

“I can hear you shivering,” he utters with a quiet sigh. His deep voice softer than usual. “You’re hearing th-things,” you say and immediately clench your teeth, shrinking back into your futon for stuttering. Talking while fighting the cold had always been a challenge.

The shuffling of fabric catches your ears and you move your eyes towards his form. He’d turned over, facing you in all his glory. The light of the lantern illuminating his face partly, but just enough to where you could meet his dark gaze.

The two of you live in each other’s eyes for just a few seconds before he raises his right hand, a tinge of pain washing over his features. Yet, before you could protest; he’s placed his index and middle finger against your cheek. The warmth from his fingers being drastically different than the coolness of your cheek. It almost makes you gasp, but your lips only part a bit.

“You are going to turn to ice at this rate,” he mumbles and the low vibrations of his voice ignite the fire within you. You take in a shaking breath, grateful you could blame that one on the cold if he noticed. “I’m used t-to it,” you say with a pitiful smile. He isn’t convinced, you notice.

He’s removed his hand from your face. Now grasping the thick blankets above you. He peels them off of you slowly, as if he were unwrapping an important artifact. Yet, he moves it just enough to where you’re still partially covered but he moves closer to you. His large body moves closely against yours as he pulls the blankets back over the both of you now. You were grateful to have such a large futon.

In a situation like this, you’d be alarmed by a man climbing into your futon without permission.

It was Sukuna, after all. His towering height and burly body sucked you in almost immediately. The heat in which he radiated made you sigh in relief as the aching iciness in your bones slowly left you.

It was innocent, you felt. He meant no other reason other than warming you up. Once warm, he’d return to his original spot… the thought hit your gut with a wave of heavy dread. Disappointment.

Eagerness. Carnal desire.

You glanced up towards his face, which sat a whole other head above yours. An ache in the back of your neck could be felt due to the angle you’d positioned it. “How is it now?” He asks you in a hushed tone. When he speaks the lantern flickers, as if he had influenced it.

The distance between your bodies is small; enough to wear you could just barely feel the hardness of his large body against yours. It’s intoxicating and quite pitiful how it darkens your mind.

When you move to rest on your right arm, fully facing his body with your own; you boldly place your left hand against the area where his upper stomach would be. Just right below his pectorals. The heat under the palm of your hand was exponential and you were shocked any human man could emit this much heat. Though you weren’t complaining.

Far from it actually.

The simple touch had shot the heat that absorbed into your hand directly to the other parts of your body. From your toes to the tip of your nose, you radiated with sparks. The internal flame within you bursting alive a hunger you never experienced before.

The sensation causes you to close your eyes as you focus on where you’re touching him.

You feel how solid he was even with the layers he wore. The ridges of his abdominal muscles could be felt as you steadily roam your hand over him; exploring his body as if he were uncharted land. That in which he was. You’d never touched a man before… especially in this way. It exhilarated you, feeling Sukuna in the way you are now.

With his warmth and musky scent surrounding you; you’d completely forgotten how cold you were before. All senses were taken over by him. Your sight, smell, touch, even hearing… but one.

As your roaming hand finds the curve of his waist. It slides over it seamlessly, laying flat against his broad back. The muscles they’re just as stone-like as the front. You take that opportunity to pull him closer to you, closing the distance between your bodies. Stone muscles move under your hand as you feel him willingly scoot closer from your push.

He’s fully placed his right hand on the curve of your waist, holding it in a firm grip. The overwhelming largeness of it forming to your curves. His fingers slightly dig into the softness of your flesh that’s still covered by the yukata.

That’s when you finally reopen your eyes, noticing how much closer his face was to yours. He’d moved a bit down to meet your eyes. His nose aligned with the the tip of yours as you still bend your neck to look at him.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he rasps out; his deep voice making it difficult to speak quietly. The closeness of his voice sends a thrilling shiver through your body. You could feel the heat of his breath against your lips, causing you to bite your bottom one just barely enough to where he wouldn’t notice.

“It’s perfect,” you murmur.

You take hold of his haori with a fist, pressing your body even closer to his. All you can hear is your heartbeat in your ears and the feeling of the actual muscle thumping viciously against your chest. Your thighs rub together as you do your best to give yourself some sort of sensation, but Sukuna seems to have noticed.

The hand he had resting in the crook of your waist tightens its hold against you, making you gasp at the sudden shift.

He’s leaned closer; his lips just barely touching your own as he breathes against them. Warm, intoxicating breaths reel you in as seconds pass. You grow impatient, waiting for the warmth of his lips to be on your own. Yet, when he suddenly pulls away; you’re stunned.

He doesn’t pull away completely. Your bodies are still pressed against each other frustratingly so, but he takes his free hand that’s pinned between the two of you, grabbing your chin with his thumb and index finger.

All Sukuna does is gaze down at you with such an intense, hungry look. The darkness that’s swelled into his eyes shows prominently even in the faint lantern light. It’s inebriating, making you drunk off lust just by just the way he looks down at you.

Technically, you were above him; in class and more, but you wanted nothing more than to worship this man like he was your king.

You were on your knees for this man.

“Ryomen…” you plead, unsure what you’re even begging for. The soft way your voice breaks as you say his name almost causes his composure to crack. “Please.”

That’s when he’s on you, pressing his surprisingly soft lips against your own in a starving way. You immediately sigh into him, basking in his warmth, scent, and taste.

He tastes inviting; a flavor that attacks your tastebuds in almost a sinful way.

It’s delectable, swimming with hints of sweetness and bitterness that pulls you in.

Your hand on his back slides towards his chest now, resting against his large pectoral. The feeling of his erratic heartbeat could be felt under your palm as your hand slowly danced its way towards the back of his neck. Bare skin.

Against the flesh of your palm lay his warm skin, melting into you as if it were meant to stay there forever. Your fingers find his hairline, treading into the soft depths of his thick but short hair. When he feels your touch grazing against his scalp, he pulls you closer to him. Your chests are pressed against each other/

Your action bringing out a low rumble within his chest. One you could feel vibrating into your own. It felt oddly intimate, but as he licks his way into your mouth; you accept it.

His wet tongue grazes across your bottom lip before slightly pushing between both. You fully welcome him into your mouth, dancing your tongues together in a sensual rhythm. It almost makes you moan.

In the back of your lust drunken mind, you knew to be as quiet as possible. The challenge ahead of you fairing quite difficult already.

He then pulls away. The sound of your lips separating with an erotic sound. You’re gasping for air as he stares down at you with a passionate desire. His lips are swollen; rosy with color. Pink eyebrows are furrowed together frustratingly as he searches your face with his deep eyes.

You release your hand from his hair, brushing it back down the exposed potion of his large neck. You are still breathing heavily. Chest heaving in rhythm with your hammering heart beat.

Sukuna moves his hand from your chin to the back of your neck now, pushing your lips closer to his once more.

“If I’d known you tasted like that,” Sukuna grunts against your equally swollen lips with your own, “I would have devoured you a long time ago.”

Your self-control slips; lust and desire fully controlling you as you feel your instincts take over completely.

“What’s stopping you now?” You ask him, closing your eyes as you lean further in. His mouth is fully pressed against yours but he replies anyways; words muffled as he speaks into your mouth, “your clothing.”

When he’s pressed his lips fully onto yours for another, more intense kiss; he’s using the hand on your waist to untie the binds of your yukata. The fingers on the back of your neck dig into your skin just enough to earn a light grunt from you.

The feeling of cold air dances over your exposed stomach as he removes the yukata as if he’s unwrapping a gift. Slowly; just to be sure he doesn’t break what’s inside.

Even under the thick covers of the futon you could feel the chilling temperatures of the storm just outside your walls.

Sukuna’s intense body heat had quickly enveloped your newly exposed flesh. His hand exploring what he’d unwrapped to discover his new terrain.

When his large hand takes hold of the swell of your ass, you’re bucking into him. His fingers dig into the soft flesh as he pulls you tighter against him, bucking back into you. A grunt comes from his chest and into your mouth as he kisses you feverishly.

That’s when you feel the intimidatingly large and hard sensation of his eager erection pressed against your lower stomach. Though he wasn’t bare; it felt- your thoughts are cut off by his hand sliding from your ass and down your bare leg, hooking it over his waist. His strong fingers gripping into the flesh of your thigh.

While still attached to your mouth he flips you under him, planting both of forearms on either side of your head as he places one last heavy kiss to your abused lips.

With how you’re laying under him, it’s caused your yukata to completely open. Your body fully exposed to the man atop you. His gaze lingers as he glances at your breasts; to your neck; to your lips again, and finally your eyes.

“You’re heavenly,” he mumbles, taking his right hand to hold the side of your face. His thumb presses against your bottom lip while moves your head to give himself access to your neck. “Divine,” he continues his praise, pressing wet kisses along the expanse of your neck. “Elegant,” he says into your chilled skin. His compliments leave your stomach swirling with heat, pooling in your core between your legs.

Your thighs instinctively press together but are blocked by the girth of his waist between them. When he realizes what you need; he’s bucking his erection against your core, causing a sweet but quiet moan to fall from your lips.

“Please,” you gasp out in a whisper, feeling the way his thumb strokes across your wet bottom lip. He slides it into your mouth, pressing against your tongue as he moves his head to catch your eyes once more. “What do you want?” He asks you.

Once he removes his large thumb your words stumble out in a mess, “I want you, please.” You say pitifully, squeezing your thighs around his waist even tighter.

It’s when he chuckles, you’re feeling the vibrations of his deep voice radiating through his body. You didn’t care that he found humor in your begging. If anything, it reeled you in even more. He had you fully wrapped around his finger and soon his cock.

He doesn’t speak as he pulls away from you. Between your legs, he moves back to sit on his knees, reaching to remove his haori. The sound of him hissing has you in full alarm, but he immediately throws a hand up. “Don’t,” he commands and you nod, laying completely still in his line of sight as he undresses himself.

His haori soon slides off his broad shoulders, revealing the white kimono. Unlike other men, he only wore the single layer of kimono. It was probably due to his status… but that didn’t matter.

When he unties the kimono; he’s soon shrugging it off with ease, ignoring the pain in his right shoulder. His black hakama are all that remain as you take in view of the man before you. His large upper body had blocked out the light from the lantern, casting a shadow over you.

The night air quickly takes its chance to send a shiver down your spine once again. Your hands shake as you run them up your body, grazing them over your breasts in an almost taunting way. You feel how hard your nipples had gotten from the winter air. As you touch yourself under his gaze, you arch your back into your hands.

Within seconds, he’s removed his last layer. He’s standing above you now, stepping out of the hakama.

Yet, before you could even take the chance to glance at what he had been keeping contained within his clothing; he’s atop you once more, returning the heat you had missed desperately.

He takes a second to warm you up before pressing his fully bare cock against your clit, spreading a warmth into you that you hadn’t known you needed. It’s such a pleasurable sensation you throw your head back with a silent gasp, holding his gaze.

“You are a virgin, right?” He asks you, genuinely curious. You hadn’t ever discussed such topics with him. Of course he wouldn’t have known. “Yes…” you breathe out as he holds his wait up with his left forehead beside your head. He’s leaned down to press his lips under your ear, nipping at it. You twitch as the sudden sharpness, shuddering when he chuckles.

“I’m glad I get to be the one to ruin you.”

His words in your ear make your heart hammer harder against your chest, if that was even possible.

Your hands had moved from your breasts to his bare sides, taking in the entirety or Ryomen Sukuna. For just a 25 year old man, he held more power over any other man in the village. He held power over you as well; you were completely, absolutely his.

The way his ripped muscles felt under your fingers was driving you mad, causing you to buck up into him. A light hiss releasing from his lips into the skin of your neck as he kisses down to your collar bone.

Soon enough, he’s taken one of your nipples into his mouth. The other breast being fondled by his large hand. You release the loudest moan you had so far, which causes him to release the breast in his hand to cover your mouth.

You glance down, locking your eyes with his as he lightly nips at your nipple with his white teeth.

“As much as I want to hear those pretty sounds,” he mumbles into the flesh of your breast. He nips at your flesh, possibly leaving a mark before finishing his sentence, “I’m not trying to be banished from the village right now.”

He releases your mouth and your lips part, showing your eagerness for all of him.

Yet, he pulls his waist away from yours.

The hand he’d used to cover your mouth trails down the curve of your waist and over your hip… it finds its way back over the soft expanse of your stomach and then further below. His thick fingers graze over the sensitive flesh of your clit, sliding between the folds with ease as he discovers just how wet you are.

The foreign sensation has you electrified, making your hips jerk at his touch. You’d never been touched like that before.

He swirls his fingers over you and your eyes slam shut as you buck into him. It’s indescribable how pleasant it feels; a warm and blooming sensation growing in the base of your gut as he does so. You can hear his light chuckling even with your heart hammering in your ears.

You wonder how it could get any better than this… but when you open your eyes, you’re watching as Sukuna takes your other nipple in his mouth. Just as he does, you feel a warm intrusion and a groan from the both of you.

“You’re so tight,” he says into your flesh as you feel his tongue swirl around your nipple. You could feel his two fingers deep inside of you, slowly moving back out as you adjudge to the sheer size of them.

It wasn’t painful, but from the chatter of the other women… you were told in times it could do. He hadn’t even gotten to the main part yet, you thought. It’s possibly it wouldn’t hurt.

He begins to thrust his fingers into you with a slow pattern. Each time he’d bottom out to his knuckle, you’d release a breath. The sensation was unreal; unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

He releases his breast from his mouth to kiss your sternum. His lips trail further below, kissing the area above your belly button.

“More,” you plead, taking your hand to cup the side of his face. He looks at you softly, but a sly smirk grows on his features. “If you weren’t in danger of freezing to death I could do so much more,” he promises as he climbs back up your body. He’s removed his fingers from your clit, bringing them towards his face.

You watch as he sticks them into his mouth, cleaning yourself off of him with a feral look in his eyes. “Like what?” You ask him, interested. “In time you’ll see. For now,” he explains, removing his fingers from his mouth, “I say we stick to the first step.”

You weren’t an idiot, so you knew what that meant. A part of you wondered if he was holding back, especially after learning you were celibate.

Yet, when you feel the way his cock sits heavily against your clit, you swallow nervously. You hadn’t even seen it but you could feel how big it was.

On instinct, you reach between your bodies to find it. Your fingertips coming into contact with something large and very warm. It’s when he hisses that you’re sure you did the right thing. You take him in your hand, squeezing just a bit as you feel how large he actually was. A but if wetness can be felt dripping down your hand.

You were nervous.

As he looked down at you, catching the nervous look in your eyes; Sukuna sighs, “I’ll be easy,” he tells you. You nod, sliding your hand down his shaft which gets a buck of his hips and a sly remark, “at first.”

“I’m not a fragile person,” you remind him, making his eyebrow raise. “Give me all you got.”

Your words you almost regret as he takes your hand from his cock and gathers your other one to pin them at the top of your head. “You’ll regret demanding that of me,” he tells you and you don’t reply. “Please,” is all you beg.

He keeps your hands bound with just his left hand as he takes his right to position himself at your entrance. You can feel as he spreads the wetness with his tip through your folds, teasing you a bit. You buck into him again, tired of waiting.

All you wanted was to be fully taken over by Sukuna. “Take me,” you plead to him, feeling his tip make its way back to your entrance.

He then releases your bound wrists to hold himself up as he begins pushing in further. “You’re drenched,” he purrs, his eyes closed as he pulls back out a bit to push back in.

You’d never seen his face as soft as it was now. He looked as if he was in pure ecstasy, taking your virginity as if it were just some collectors item. You’d gladly gift it to him.

When his cock finally makes it a quarters way in, you hiss. Your hands push at his lower abdomen on impulse. The sudden intrusion bringing a slightly searing pain you didn’t expect to feel. He immediately stops, glancing up at you in concern.

You nod once, removing your hands from his stomach to signal he can continue. You clench your eyes shut, holding onto his forearms as he finally slides himself completely inside. You’re slightly squirming, adjusting to the new feeling of being stuffed. It’s painful, but also exhilarating.

You’re panting now, digging your face into the stone muscle of his left arm. He’s motionless, letting you decide the next move.

“You can move,” you finally whisper after a few seconds. He does, almost eagerly.

Within seconds, you feel the pain being taken over by waves of intense pleasure. Though still slightly uncomfortable, it’s the way Sukuna’s face makes you feel as he slowly thrusts into you. It’s heartwarming, seeing his pink lashes flutter close as he bottoms out into you over and over. He’s breathtaking, you tell yourself.

It’s when you release one of your hands from his arms to cup the side of his face, causing his eyes to open. He looks absolutely spent, probably from the training and being up.

Beads of sweat pool at his hairline as his dark eyes stare into your own.

“You’re beautiful,” you tell him with your whole heart. His thrusts become a lot heavier and quicker in pace. He’s not making a sound, but you could hear the almost silent grunts coming from behind his clenched teeth.

You’re sighing, feeling the same building up sensation as before in your stomach. “Ryomen!” You gasp, pulling him to you so your chests lay flat together. He’s still pounding into you, hard enough to where it’s not going to overstimulate you. It’s enough.

He’s placed his forearm behind your head, letting the back of it rest on it as his other lay flat on the other side. He’s got his lips back on yours, releasing a pent up groan into your mouth.

If you could have it your way, you’d be chanting his name as loud as you could. Praising him and pleasing him.

For now, your quiet promises to each other would have to do. You feel a sudden jolt, which causes your hips to buck into his thrusts. “I- I’m-“ you gasp out, unsure of what you’re even saying. “You’re what?” He asks into your lips, a slight smirk growing on his own. Your breaths are mixed together as you pant pitifully against him.

“I don’t know,” you confess, taking your hand to press against your stomach. “It feels-“ is all you say before he thrusts just a bit harder, gaining a whimper out of you. “Quiet,” he hisses, taking one of his hands to snake between the two of you.

He understands what you’re trying to tell him even though you aren’t sure. It excites him, knowing he can tear down your walls this easily.

He’s touching your clit again while he pounds into you. The sensations so good you gasp.

After about a minute, you’re unfolding in his hands. Your body feeling as if it were burning as it blossoms on his thrusting cock. “That’s right,” he rasps out, “let go.”

You were a whimpering mess as his continuous thrusting helped you through this new form of high. You never knew you could feel this way. It was addicting, and you wanted to feel it again.

As the high slowly faded, leaving you in an after glow; your body ached. Yet, he continued his movements, removing his hand from your clit to completely focus on himself now. You allowed him to, because though it felt like a lot… it was still pleasing, feeling him use you to please himself.

“Use me,” you tell him. He’d moved his face into the crook of your neck. His ear right next to your mouth. “I’m yours,” you whisper against his burning flesh. He grunts into your neck, thankfully muffled.

He then snakes his left arm under your back, grabbing your hip with his right hand. His fingers dig into your flesh.

Relentlessly, he’s pounding into you. Using you.

You’re overcome with pleasure, closing your eyes as you feel him bite into your neck as he nears his climax.

When he gets close, his thrusts become irregular. His breathing becoming heavier as the arm below you presses you into his body further.

His teeth graze against the skin of your neck before he bites down, hard.

You’re left gasping as he suddenly pulls out of you, placing his heavy cock on your stomach and thrusting against your soft skin as your bodies are pressed together.

You feel a sudden wet warmness on you. Assuming it was sweat, he then pulls away. His chest heaving as he stares down at the mess he’s made. You’re covered in his cum and his cock twitches at the sight of it.

One of his hands goes to cover his mouth as looks down at you. You’re glowing and he’s holding himself back; keeping himself from taking you once more.

He knew you probably would actually break.

He glances around the room and finds his kimono, taking the sleeve to wipe at your stomach. “It shouldn’t stain this,” he murmurs quietly as he cleans you. There was nothing else in the room to do so with.

You’re already back into a shivering mess and the sight makes him sigh. “Be patient,” he whispers. You nod, watching him finish. As he places his kimono away for now, he turns back to you.

Sukuna finds your yukata and wraps it back around you. The comfort of the cloth enveloping your body as he ties it.

It’s when he fully stands, you’re able to fully appreciate his naked body. He was a sight to behold and you wondered how someone like you could possibly be considered of higher rank than him…

He dresses himself, but just his hakama.

When he slides back under the blankets of the futon, his naked chest bleeds his heat onto you.

Your mind jumps to his wound, immediately concerned. You hadn’t spotted any blood but when you ask him to show you… it’s healed. The once deep wound nothing but a red line showing what it used to be. It’s genuinely shocking.

With wide eyes you stare at him but he continues to slide further into the futon. His gaze darkening as you eye him questioningly. “It’s none of your concern,” is all he says before he pulls you to him.

You knew better than to pester him any further on it. In time, you’d learn.

He keeps you warm the rest of the night.

You listen to the sounds of his heartbeat in one ear and the whistling of the wind outside in the other. It’s calming.

As you awake in the morning, you’re wrapped in an extra layer. The black fabric thick against your skin.

It smells heavily of Ryomen Sukuna as you blink the sleep away from your eyes, finding his haori wrapped around you.

Sukuna was no where in sight.

[ki-kink]

So, I'm curious about how the wereteen curse spreads. Do you have any information about it? (Just so I can prepare myself in case of trouble)

Were-Teenager Syndrome

The Were-Teenager Syndrome is a rare, sexually transmitted condition characterized by a periodic transformation of affected individuals into a state resembling a stereotypical young adult male, often exhibiting the physical traits and behaviors of an 18-year-old. The syndrome's name is derived from the "werewolf" mythology, as it involves a transformation that shares some temporal and physical characteristics with lycanthropy.

Pic 1: 54-year-old infected (lung specialist) on a Saturday morning during an acute attack

Discovery and History

The first recorded case of Were-Teenager Syndrome was documented in 1983 by Timothy Jones, a biochemist at the University of Lund, Sweden. Jones had been conducting an experiment involving the semen of exceptionally early-maturing adolescent males. After an unexpected incident, he found himself in a youth hostel on a Monday morning with no memory of how he arrived. Eyewitnesses reported that a person named Timmy Jones had checked into the hostel on the previous Friday afternoon, during which time a dramatic and mysterious change took place. This incident marked the beginning of research into what would later be identified as the Were-Teenager Syndrome.

Symptoms and Characteristics

The condition is marked by a sudden physical transformation that begins every Friday afternoon, one hour before sunset, and lasts until Sunday evening, one hour after sunset. During this time, affected individuals—typically middle-aged or older men—experience a complete physical reversion to the appearance of a young, athletic male around the age of 18. This transformation includes increased body hair, particularly on the chest and face, and a substantial increase in both semen production and testosterone levels.

The behavioral changes that accompany the physical transformation are similarly notable. Were-Teenagers exhibit a heightened sexual drive, often displaying an attraction to older men. Their personality during the transformation mirrors that of a typical male adolescent: rude language, crude behavior, poor personal hygiene, and a keen interest in sex, soccer, and partying. Their diet primarily consists of fast food, accompanied by excessive alcohol and spirits consumption.

Social and Psychological Aspects

The syndrome leads to distinctive social behaviors typically associated with pubescent or young adult males. Were-Teenagers engage in what is often described as "loutish" conduct, characterized by boisterous partying and flirtations with older men. Psychologically, they demonstrate a disinterest in responsibility, preferring immediate gratification and indulging in stereotypically masculine interests.

The exact mechanism behind the syndrome remains unclear, but it is believed to be a result of a complex interaction between hormonal imbalances triggered by the initial exposure to early male adolescent sexual fluids. Further studies are ongoing to understand the genetic, environmental, and biochemical factors that might contribute to the onset of the condition.

Pic 2: 49-year-old management consultant after infection in a sleeping car compartment

Transmission and Treatment

As a sexually transmitted disease, Were-Teenager Syndrome is contracted through exposure to the bodily fluids of affected individuals, particularly semen. While there is no known cure for the condition, research into potential treatments is ongoing. Some experts hypothesize that the syndrome could be mitigated through hormonal therapy or lifestyle adjustments, though these remain speculative.

The Were-Teenager Syndrome remains an area of active research, with continued efforts to understand its pathophysiology and long-term effects on affected individuals.

[skellymom]

WRITER'S WALL OF FAME-CLONES!

Check out these talented fan ficer's!

PLEASE LIKE, COMMENT, AND REBLOG! They don't get engagement without it, and tell them how much you enjoyed their work!

READ BOTTOM OF THIS POST FOR CRITERIA TO BE ADDED TO THIS POST!

@sparks0918 and @ochsabird STAR WARS WRITING RESOURCES! Check it out!!!

@aggy72

@anxiouspineapple99

@apocalyp-tech-a

@arctrooper69

@a-single-tulip

@badbatchposts

@baddest-batchers

@batchedzine

@bibliophilesince2003

@bilbosmom-belladonna

@blackseafoam

@captn-trex

@catboydogma

@changeling-selfship

@clonethirstingisreal

@deejadabbles

@detroitbydark

@dickarchivist

@dindjarindiaries

@djarrex

@doublesunsets

@dumfanting

@dystopicjumpsuit

@enigmaticexplorer

@eyecandyeoz

@half-truths-and-hyperbole-louk

@havocdream

@hellhound5925

@huntressdarkness

@imabeautifulbutterfly

@imarvelatthestars

@indigofyrebird

@isthereanechoinhere96

@fionajames

@fractiouskat

@freesia-writes

@friendlyneighborhoodsynthezoid

@genericficerblog

@girloffourhouses

@gun-roswell

@just-here-with-my-thoughts

@hugmekenobi

@jetii

@jinngonjin

@justaparsec94

@kaminocasey

@knightprincess

@kybercrystals94

@lacygirlingreen

@leapingbadger

@leenabb104104

@lonewolflupe

@longlivetheclones

@madameminor

@mandos-mind-trick

@marierg

@marswrites

@masterjedilenawrites

@merkitty49

@momojedi

@moodymisty

@multi-fan-dom-madness

@mylittlepooka

@notgonnaedit

@photogirl894

@nahoney22

@neon-junkie

@noblelightfighter

@0vvl404

@pinascreatorcorner

@redemption773

@rendomski

@rex-meshla

@rexxdjarin

@sinfulsalutations

@starqueensthings

@thesmollestnerd

@starrylothcat

@sev-on-kamino

@soaringthroughthegalaxy

@skellymom

@sleepingsun501

@spacemagicandlaserswords

@spicy-clones

@staycalmandhugaclone

@stellarbit

@sued134

@swprequels-big-bang

@substantial-exposure

@talesfrommedinastation

@tcwmatchmakingau

@techhasmjolnir

@techs-goggles9902

@the-bad-batch-baroness

@thecoffeelorian

@the-little-moment

@the-rain-on-kamino

@vodika-vibes

@wanderinginksplot

@welcometo79s

@wild-karrde

@wizardofrozz

@wolveria

@zoeykallus

@523rdrebel

IF THERE IS ANYONE MISSING, OR YOU WANT ME TO ADD A WRITER PLEASE MESSAGE ME! THANKS!!!

Ok, for clarity my criteria for CLONE CONTENT:

*Clone main character

*Clone supportive cast characters with a non clone main character

*Clone OC's

*Clones showing up SOMEWHERE significant in the fic. Not just one clone character who is in and out and the rest is non clone characters

Probably the ONLY exceptions that break the other above rules could possibly be the following (and PLEASE feel free to steal these ideas):

*Characters fighting for Clone Rights in the Senate, battlefield, another planet, etc where no physical clones are present, but their story is front row and center.

*Characters interacting in the story regarding the science or cloning actions of ANY of the Clone centered operations like on Kamino or any other planet, Hemlocks clone experimentation, shadowy cabal or Gov Tarkin planning something regarding the Clones, etc. where no physical clones are present, but their story is front row and center.

*I'm cool with ALL CLONE CONTENT TYPES: action packed, slow burn, mundane, clean, comfort, angsty, sad, heart breaking, tragic, cliff hangers, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, lovey-dovey, soothing, happy, domestic relationships, platonic relationships, hot romantic relationships, smut (off all kinds), aromantic, asexual, non-binary/genderfluid/gay/lesbian/bi/omni characters or targeted readers, baby batch, young cadet batch, etc. Your imagination is the limit!

READERS: PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND WARNING ON THESE CREATORS FICS to make sure it's what you WANT to read! PLEASE BE DISCERNING DURING YOUR JOURNEY ON TUMBLR!!!

I am allowing some of the "problematic" ships.

AND BEFOR ANYONE COMES FOR ME, IT IS UP TO THE READER TO READ THE TAGS AND WARNINGS ON THEIR JOURNEY IN "THE EYEBALL ZONE" WHILE READING FICS AND LOOKING AT VISUAL CONTENT.

I WILL NOT POLICE ANYONE.

NOT A FAN OF CENSORSHIP.

WILL NOT KINK SHAME.

THESE ARE FICTIONAL CHARACTERS.

IF YOU HAVE A PARTICULAR BEEF WITH A WRITERS CONTENT PLEASE TAKE IT UP WITH THEM. AND, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE DO IT CONSTRUCTIVELY AND DO NOT HARRASS OR TROLL THEM.

I am only one person and cannot know what some people find offensive or not. Yep, it's the interwebs and there are some things that are gonna shock you...probably even shock me. I'll leave it up to you to make those decisions and control your own content consumption.

Thanks for understanding.

*The writer MUST have a visible pinned post of their work at the top of their page! Need to make it easy for those visiting the links to find their work. Also, at this time if they are ONLY on Wattpad or Ao3 WITHOUT a visible Tumblr link (pinned post that is easy to find), I cannot list them. Again, doing this for ease of locating work and available for people primarily on Tumblr.

Also, if you suggest a creator, PLEASE make sure you spelled their Tumblr name correctly. Thanks for understanding!

PLEASE send me some love too! I created this listing to not just help people find creatives, but to PROMOTE MY OWN Tumblr account. So go check out my fics. It's called networking, baby! <3

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Crash Landings (Adam x Reader)

CW: Rough sex, Dub con, sex pollen, degradation, pussy slapping, fingering, compromised ability to consent Rated: AdultSummary: After taking damage to his wings, Adam has no choice but to make an emergency landing in a clearing of purple flowers, unaware of the unique flora of hell. While he waits for his flight feathers to regrow, he's met with some rather unexpected side effects of exposure to Hyperrigidus Purpureus pollen. His luck this extermination had been shit but when a pretty little demoness all but trips over him, he is pretty sure his luck was about to change.

A flower fic for @redvexillum- the least I can do for designing the banners for RedFoxTober.

Adam soared through the air, spinning toward the ground as he tried to gather his wits. Feathers fluttered around him, knocked free by the force of the explosion and compromising his ability to take control of the nosedive he was currently stuck in. 

They would grow back quickly enough. In an hour or two he’d regrow the shed flight feathers enough to have lift again. In the meantime, he had no choice but to try and regain enough control of his descent before he crashed into some building or impaled his wing on a fucking tree branch or something.

A patch of purple caught his eye. A clearing, flat and fairly deserted. It was too close to that damned princess’s hotel for his liking, but it was his best option. It didn’t look like there was anyone nearby that could try to fuck up his chance for a breather. He hit the ground with explosive force, sending dirt and flowers into the sky. 

“Shit!” Adam yelled, batting clumps of dirt and flower petals as they rained down on him. “Fuck! Goddamnit.” 

The bitter taste of vegetation invaded his mouth as he inhaled, preparing to let out another string of outraged curses. Instead, he wheezed, coughing and sputtering out the offensive taste as he climbed out of the small crater he had created. 

As he walked, seeking shelter in the small patch of forest, Adam examined his wings. The flight feathers were in a state of ruin. Those that hadn’t been ripped out were singed or broken. Golden blood dripped from the tips of feathers where blood feathers not yet ready to emerge from their keratin casings had been broken open too early. 

Adam grunted, digging through the ragged feathers to find the bleeding numbs. He wrapped his fist around the first one he found and pulled. Pain stabbed through his wing but he kept the pressure steady, pilling the feather out of the skin of his wing. After tossing the bloody feather to the side, he put pressure on the opening until it clotted. 

“Fucking hot ass mother fucking weather.” Adam mumbled, wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his robe, groaning when it did nothing to remove the sweat from his skin, instead rubbing along his battle helmet. Had it always been so fucking hot down here, or was it worse on the ground? “Fucking sweating my goddamn fuckin’ balls off.” 

Adam pulled the helmet from his head, desperate for some air. Sweaty brown hair stuck to his skin as he again wiped his forehead. He tossed it to the ground at his feet, needing his hands free to pull the baggy robes up and over his head. It was too fucking hot to be wearing them. Stupid fucking robes. 

The hot air caressed his arms, doing little to cool the fire that seemed to build inside him. He needed to sit down, get his bearings, and rip those bleeding feathers out. The sooner they were gone, the sooner they would start to regrow and he could go back to killing these lowly fucking cunts. 

He sat under a tree and got all of three feathers out before groaning, leaning back against the tree. It was too fucking hot. He fanned himself, but found no relief in the action. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, working the buckles free from the strappy leather shirt he wore. 

It was an unneeded layer of protection, but one he wore out of habit. Sinners couldn’t hurt him, not in any substantial way. That didn’t make taking blows any more fun, though. Clacking of metal and the groaning of leather seemed too loud in the patch of trees he took shelter in as he pulled the zipper down his chest. 

Hot air caressed his chest, doing little to cool the flushed skin. He just needed a few minutes to let the sweat dry, that was all. He was just trying to make sure he didn’t get a heat rash. 

“Fucking bullshit,” Adam groaned as he shifted, pants constricting around his thighs. The heat had him sweating everywhere, resulting in all of his clothes pulling at his skin. The grip on his cock was painful. 

“Stupid fuckin’ shit,” Adam groaned, as he worked the studded belt buckle around his hips free, working the fly of his pants open. This would look so bad if anyone found him like this. He just needed some fuckin’ airflow. 

No wonder everyone walked around hell half naked. It was so fucking hot. 

He wasn’t sure when he had pulled his cock out or when he had gotten hard. It hadn’t been intentional; he was just trying to get some airflow around his fucking balls. The sweat had them sticking to his legs, the pull of hairs against sweaty skin causing stinging discomfort. 

Somehow that led him here, to be sitting on the ground of a hellish forest with his cock in his fist. Sweat poured down his back as he stroked himself. The pace had started lazy, just a way to occupy himself while he let the wounds heal and feathers regrow. It was a distraction from the way his wings fucking itched.

Before long, his pace was disparate as he fucked into his hand. He squeezed and gripped; he caressed and thrusted and yet he could not find release. The oppressive heat of hell was keeping it from him. 

“Fuck,” he panted, thankful he was alone at least. 

Or he thought he was. 

Though he was too distracted to hear it, you ran through the forest. Bare feet slammed against the forest floor, not sparing a thought to the way the branches and rocks cut into flesh. It was better to be cut up by the forest than by the Exorcist that you were fleeing. 

Panting breaths slipped from your lungs as you ran, desperate to keep the whine from your voice. There was no way for you to know how well those winged killers could hear. Though you were fairly sure you had lost the one that had been hot on your tail before you ran into the cluster of tight trees off to the side of the road, you didn’t slow. 

The trees grew more sparse as you ran, feet leaving bloody smears against the dirty ground. With explosive force, you burst from the underbrush into a small clearing, hardly large enough to be called that. 

Pink hair flew into your face as you jerked back, tripping over roots as you tried and failed to find your footing. The last thing you had expected was to find a man in the forest, let alone one that looked so painfully human. 

You fell to the ground, hands just in front of his black leather boots, full of buckles and metal. For a moment, you just laid there, dazed and looking up at the man holding his erect member in his hand. 

He was so human looking, so soft in a way you hadn’t seen since landing in hell. Brown eyes looked down at you, wide. Metal necklaces and earrings glittered in the dim light as his fist moved slowly up his length, as if he couldn’t help himself. 

You blinked your unnaturally pink eyes at him, unsure what to do when faced with a human in hell before you took in the rest of the sight. A crumpled white and gold mass of fabric sitting at his hip, a black-horned helmet sat next to it. You gasped as you realized golden wings stretched out behind him, smears of golden blood marked the tree trunk he laid against. Above the fluffy boyish brown hair floated a golden halo. 

This man who looked so human was far more deadly of a killer than any of the demons in hell. 

“Please,” you whispered, rising onto your hands and knees. “I- I won’t tell anyone about this if you just let me go.” 

Adam’s eyes ran over you, taking in the dark marron of your sweatshirt and the ever so light pink of your pleated mini skirt. Such a contrast between modest and slutty. Horns and bat wings reminded him through his lusty haze that you were little more than just another disgusting sinner. 

“How are you not burning up?” Adam asked as his hand slowly moved down his cock again. “It’s so fucking hot here.” 

“I-” your eyes widened as you recognized the purple flower petals in his hair. “It’s not. It’s you, the… the flowers. It’ll go away in time. I should-” 

Adam lunged forward, grabbing you and pushing you down onto the ground. He sprang forward with such sudden force you hadn’t had a chance to finish your sentence, let alone try to escape. 

“Please,” you begged, “Please, let me go. I’m trying- I swear I’m trying to be better.” 

“What do you mean it’s the fucking flowers?” Adam hissed, sitting on your hips to ensure you couldn’t get away from him. You tried to ignore the way his cock stood out from his pants, bobbing with every move either of you made. 

“Their pollen,” you gasped, eyes wide as the first man grabbed your wrists, pinning you down and putting an end to your struggles. “It makes people horny.” 

“Are you fucking serious?” Adam hissed, “How do I fix it?” 

“You just have to wait it out,” your breath caught in your lungs, hating how your sweater had ridden up in the struggle, exposing your abdomen. 

Adam leaned forward, his cock brushing directly against your skin as he prepared to say something. Instead, his eyes grew wide, and he groaned at the fleeting contact. “I’ve been doing that.”

“You just have to wait,” you whimpered as he folded over you, thrusting his cock lazily against your stomach. “You won’t be able to take care of it on your own.” 

“And with a partner?” Adam shook the shredded petals from his hair, sending dirt and bits of flower raining down on you, not sparing a thought to how it could land in your wide eyes. “If I had some to fuck?” 

“Faster,” you whispered. “Please, I don’t want to die.” 

“What if we made a deal?” Adam thrust his hips against you again, smearing precum along your skin. “That’s what you fuckin demons are all about, aren’t you? Deals?” 

“What?” 

“You help me ride out this fuckin’ bullshit,” Adam leaned closer, brown hair brushing against your pink hair in what surely had to be a strange sight. His wings fluttered out from his back, golden blood dripping onto the ground as he shifted, forcing a knee between your legs. “And I don’t kill you, this year at least. How’s that sound?” 

“You won’t kill me?” Your eyes grew wider as his knee pressed higher, pushing your thighs apart. “If… If we-” 

“You’re lucky, you know.” Adam said, taking both of your wrists in one large hand and shifting, letting his gloved hand run over the skin of your thigh, pushing your short shirt up around your waist. “Bitches fight over who gets to fuck me. You’ll be the only demon bitch who can say she fucked the first man. The fucking original dick. Fuck, you’re so lucky.” 

“I am,” you agreed, not feeling lucky in the slightest. “I’ll do it, please. Just don’t hurt me.” 

“Fuckin’ damn right you’ll do it,” he grabbed the band of your panties, a thong that didn’t cover much anyway, and pulled. The elastic cut into your skin, burning as it stretched. The band around your hip ripped first and then the gusset was cutting into your thigh. You spread your legs in a attempt to flee from the pain, opening your naked core to him. The ripped panties hung around your knee as he dropped them. 

Adam leaned back, taking in the sight of your pink cunt. It was darker than your pink skin, a rosy color that he was eager to get his hands on. 

You hated how your body flushed at the attention. Men like Adam were just your type. Fuck boys who took what they wanted. Assholes who used and took and demanded. His hand pushed your sweater up, greedily exposing your breasts. 

“No bra?” Adam tsked as he took in the sight of so much unnaturally pink skin. Your nipples were rosy and dark, much like your folds. “Fuckin’ slut,” Adam said as he harshly palmed your breast. 

“Ah!” you arched into his touch, body betraying you as his fingers dug into the flesh. The squeezing pressure let up for a moment before he was pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pain flashing through your mind. 

His hand left your breast, letting the warm air of hell soothe the pain. His touch was far from soft or teasing as he ran his hand down your body. Fingers dug into whatever softness he found. 

He positioned himself between your thighs. The way he brought his hand to his mouth was sensual. He pinched the leather of his gloves between his teeth, first to pull open the buckle fastening the glove around his wrist and then at the tips of the fingers. He tossed the black glove to the side, letting it fall atop the heap of his robes. 

Your hips bucked as he wasted no time running his fingers through your folds. He was greedy, selfish. There was no teasing in his touches. 

“Fuckin’ slut,” he groaned, wiggling a finger deep into your hole. “So fuckin wet. You want to be fucked dirty, don’t you?” 

You whimpered, hips working as his finger thrust slowly into you. The sensation expanded as he entered another finger into you, thrusting in and out. There was little resistance. Your opening was shamefully wet. 

“What has you so wet, hum?” Adam asked, fucking his fingers into you harsher. You hated how the squelching sound of his fingers in you filled the clearing. 

This wasn’t something you wanted, not really. But you were willing to do it, to fuck him if it meant he wouldn’t kill you. What you wanted and how your body responded were two very different things. 

“You’re fuckin soaked,” Adam sneered as he pulled his fingers from you, holding them up so you could see the way your slick covered them, strings of it hanging between the digits as he spread them. “Fuckin’ eager whore, aren’t you?” 

He kneed your legs apart, slotting his hips between your legs as he lowered himself down. The head of his fat cock nestled against your folds as he looked down at you as if you were the most disgusting thing he had ever seen. 

“What is it, hm?” Adam asked as he parted your folds with his head, moaning at the wetness that pooled around him. “You’re suck a fuckin’ slut. Going to let the fuckin’ first man fuck you in the woods. Fuck you on the dirty ground.” 

You moaned at the burning stretch of his head pushing into your opening. He hadn’t spared a second to run his cock through the folds, to collect the slick on him, to ease his entry. He didn’t give a shit about you as he sank deeper. 

“Fuck,” he moaned, “going to get fucked by the general.” 

“Please,” you whined, hips wiggling as you tried to work your slick over his cock and ease the burning strain of your hole around him. “Just fuck me,” 

“Fuck, fuck,” Adam moaned as he spread your walls open with his length, slowly bottoming out. “Look at me while I fuck you, bitch.” 

You fluttered your eyes open, coming face to face with the angel general. A blush colored his cheeks, flushed from the heat the flowers put in his body. His cock spread you wide and reached deep. The first man had been gifted with an impressive tool, far more sizable than any of the men you had been with in life or in death. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, back arching as he thrust into you. Your nipples scraped against buckles and the zipper, a painful change in sensation that paired with the stretch of him. 

“That’s right,” Adam said, pulling out as you whined. “Beg for it.” 

It took all of Adam’s self control to not plunge deep into your sopping wet cunt. Instead, he pulled further back and grabbed you, manhandling you onto your hands and knees. 

“Please,” you whispered, begging less for Adam’s cock and more for him to get on with it. 

“I don’t believe you want it,” Adam slapped your ass, the stinging pain forcing a yelp from your lips. The sound of three more sharp strikes echoed through the forest, each one blooming into a heated pleasure that made it hard for you to remember that you didn’t want this. 

“Please,” you begged, less sure of what you were begging for as you leaned back on your knees, seeking the full feeling of his heavy cock in your cunt. “Please, fuck me.”

“That’s right,” Adam sneered, smile curling as he fucked into you harshly. The sudden punch of his cock against your cervix knocked the air out of your lungs. “Fucking beg.” 

He refused to move, twitching inside her as he waited. Like hell was he going to let some fuckin hell flower control him? It was one thing for the fucking flower to make him fuck a slutty little fucking sinner like this, but he would not let it decide how he fucked. Pulling out, he sat and waited, watching your core clench, seeking him out. 

Adam was the original dick. He was fucking since fucking was a thing. He didn’t need some fucked up hell flower to tell him how to fuck. He spat, watching the glob as it hit her quivering hole. 

“Please,” you whimpered as you felt his spit splatter over your folds. “Fuck me.” 

Your control was slipping. There was a line between wanting to fuck Adam because he was going to kill you otherwise. Looking down at the ground, you saw the shredded purple of the petals, knowing full well in that instant why you were so wet.

“Fuck,” Adam moaned, thrusting harshly inside of you again, knocking the air from your lungs and sending you face down onto the ground. “Just like that, bitch.” 

You blinked your eyes, trying to breathe as he fucked harshly into you. That purple petal, hardly more than a shred danced on the dirt, carried by your gasped cries. His belt stung as it bit at your ass, each thrust slamming it into you. 

“Fuckin’ take my fat cock. Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ lucky.” He moaned, thrusting into you as he folded over you. Strong hands grabbed your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples under his hands. “Fucked by the first fucking man. Fucking dirty slut, you like that, don’t you?” 

You moaned deeply in response. That wasn’t enough of an answer for him, though. Adam’s hand left your breast, only to swing up and slap it in a stinging blow. You clenched around his cock, moaning deeply at the strike. 

“Fucking whore,” Adam said, “answer me.” 

“Yes,” you moaned into the dirt. “Fuck, yes.” 

“Good slut,” Adam praised, pinching your nipple as a reward. “Who’s fuckin’ you?”

“A-Adam,” drool ran from the corner of your cheek, collecting on the ground as he fucked into you harder. 

“That’s right,” Adam said, “Right fuckin there. Take it. Take my fuckin’ load like the greedy bitch you are.” 

He came with a moan, never slowing his thrusts. You cried out at the burning heat of the ropes of his hot cum, shooting into you without warning. His pace never slowed, even as his seed stung in the small rips his size had caused around your opening. That pain was just one more thing that bloomed into pleasure. 

“Please,” you panted, “want to, want to cum.” 

“No,” Adam said, pulling her up onto her knees by the breasts. “You can fucking cum when I’ve had enough.” 

“Adam,” you whined, as he continued to fuck up into you. The change in position had your back arched and the painful size of Adam had him pressing against your stomach with every thrust. 

“Fuckin’ whore,” Adam said, “Bitch ass slut,” his sweaty head rested on her shoulder as he continued fuckin up into her. “Why the fuck am I still so fuckin’ hard?

“F-f- fuck,” you moaned, struggling to say anything. When you reached down, hoping to stroke your clit and push yourself over the edge, Adam grabbed your wrists. “Fucking flowers.” 

“Going to fuck you till I’m done,” he promised, “fuckin use you up.” 

That shouldn’t have been as hot as it was. Your core clenched around him as you let your head fall back, resting on the shoulder of the man who was driving you to such heights of pleasure. 

“Please,” you whined, “Please- fuck! Please use me,” 

“Damn right,” Adam moaned, breath cascading down your chest, washing over your overheated breasts. “Fuck. Best cock you’ve had all fuckin year. Best fuckin’ of your life, huh?” 

“Y-yes!” you cried out as he slapped your breast, nipple stinging from the impact. “Best fuck- fucking.” 

“Never gonna have someone as good as me,” Adam promised, running his hand down your body, pressing into your stomach. Pressure built inside you as you were pushed closer to the edge. His cum and your slick poured down your legs, smearing into his leather pants as he continued to fuck you relentlessly. 

“No.” you flexed your fingers, nails digging into your chest where Adam’s still gloved hand had your hands pinned. “Please, please, Adam, please, I want to-” 

“Fucking dickmaster,” Adam grunted as your core squeezed the life out of his cock, “Call me dickmaster- ah! Fuck, when you cum.” Reaching down, he ran the pads of his fingers over your clit, stroking it. You thrust your hips as he worked his fingers over you. Drool ran down your chin as he continued spearing you on his massive cock. “You can do that, can’t you, my little demonic slut?”

“Yes,” you chased the pleasure he was giving you, hips working against him as he fucked you dumb. “Fuck, yes. Please. Please. So close, Adam.” 

His fingers left you for a moment before a stinging slap hit your clit. You cried out, tears running down your face as he fucked you through the pain. He slapped your swollen clit three more times, driving you closer to the edge with each blow. 

“What the fuck did I say, bitch?” Adam grunted, fucking into your sloppy hole harder, twitching inside you. “Fuck, so tight. What are you- fuck- going to call me?” 

“Dick-” you gasped, legs and small bat wings trembling. He let your hands go, reaching up and wrapping a hand around one of your horns and yanking your head back. He forced your back to arch, ass pressing into him as he continued thrusting harshly, chasing his own release again. “Dickmaster, fuck.” 

“Good girl,” Adam praised, catching himself off guard as he turned his head, planting a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Good fuckin’ slut. Come on now, cum on the first cock. Come on my cock.” 

“Fuck,” you gasped, back aching at the way he had forced you to arch it. He slapped your clit again and again, fingers running over the slick nub between blows. “Fuck, fuck,” you cried out as he yanked on her head again, “I’m going to, fuck, Dickmaster, I’m going to-” 

“Go on, slut.” Adam said, yanking at your horn as he slapped your clit harder. Each strike clenched your cunt around him as he moaned. “Cum on my cock,” 

You did, with a scream that echoed through the forest. “Adam!” You chanted, switching it out with “Dickmaster,” when he slapped your overly sensitive clit again and again. 

“Fucking slut,” Adam grunted, shoving you forward as you convulsed around his cock. Strong hands gripped your hips, dragging them up without a care for the way your nipples scraped against the ground as he fucked into you, riding each wave of your orgasm. “Fuckin’ whore, cuming on my cock.” 

“Ah!” You couldn’t make your limbs work as each wave of your orgasm crashed into eachother, blurring together in searing white hot pleasure, “D-dick, dick… Master. Fuck, Dickmaster.” 

“That’s fuckin’ right,” Adam said, seed spilling into your cunt, squelching out of your hole with every thrust he made into it. “Fuckin’ whore,” Adam whispered as he collapsed over her, spent.

Both gasped for breath, trying and failing to fill burning lungs you shuddered, twitching around his cock. Above you, in the sky, holy trumpets sounded, as they always did, twice a year to single the beginning and the end of the extermination. 

You survived another year, doing whatever you had to do in order to make it out the other side alive. Never had you thought fucking the angel general would be what it took. 

Adam pulled from you, his cock leaving, letting a river of his cum run from your hole. It tickled as it trickled down your folds. For a moment, he stood over you, running his ungloved hand through his sweaty hair. Finally, the sweat on his skin was drying and his cock softened. 

He wasn’t sure what to say to you at the moment, so he said nothing, tucking his dick away in silence. You laid on the ground, ass in the air, skirt still thrown up around your hips, seed running from your hole and dripping off your clit onto the dirty ground. Reaching into the pocket of his robes, he grabbed his phone. 

He walked around the side, taking in the fucked out look on your face. The sweater you wore, a mockery of modesty, was bunched around your shoulders, displaying your breasts. 

You hardly registered the sound of a camera shudder snapping as Adam took pictures. Your wings twitched as you lay gasping for air. Adam moved around you, ensuring he could look back on this and know exactly the way your pink hair fell across your fucked out face, the way your nipples looked dragging across the ground and most importantly, the way your cunt dripped with his seed. 

“Thanks for a good time,” He said, kneeling behind you for a moment for a closer look. “Fucked yourself into another year in hell, good job slut.” 

“Adam,” you moaned, blinking at the sound of his voice. 

“That’s right, whore-” A wet slap echoed through the trees along with your lusty yelp as he delivered one final blow to your abused cunt. “Don’t ever forget how you got yourself another year. Maybe you can remind me next year.” 

You groaned, tears running down your face, dripping into the dirt as you came back to yourself. Blurry eyes watched as Adam slipped the robe over his long frame and shoved the helmet over his head. He spared you a digitized wink as he fluttered his wings, leaving you exposed as he took off, joining his band of bloodthirsty killers as you lay exposed on the ground. 

Just as he had promised, he left you used up. 

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers!

[politicalprof]

As some of you may recall, I have participated in a continuing series of "expert" polls/panels on the state of American politics since the early years of the Trump policy. I'll provide a link to the most recent results below, but assuming most of you have no desire to plow into that data, the executive summary follows. It is interesting in its own right...

"Our key findings are the following:

Election expectations

Both parties expect their candidate to win the presidential election (87% for Republicans, 90% for Democrats). In particular, a substantial minority of Republicans (38%) and Democrats (28%) do not even expect the election to be close, creating an opening for claims of fraud or malfeasance if the result differs from their expectations.

Experts believe Trump will try to claim victory before the race is decided (median forecast: 80% likelihood) and encourage violence and intimidation by his supporters (80%). Just 7% of experts and 24% of the public think Trump will concede if he loses the election. By contrast, 75% of experts and 72% of the public think Harris will concede if she loses the election.

Campaigns

Experts rate standard campaign strategies such as promoting voter turnout as more effective than highlighting the threat to democracy posed by the other side for both candidates, including Harris.

Exposure to a message describing the endorsements that Harris received from former Vice President Dick Cheney, former Rep. Liz Cheney, and former Rep. Adam Kinzinger increased support for her among people who intend to vote in the November election by an estimated one percentage point.

Threats to democracy

80% of Republicans endorse the false claim by Trump and his allies that Democrats are trying to win the election by allowing unauthorized immigrants into the country and giving them the right to vote. Public beliefs about the prevalence of voter and election fraud remain wildly exaggerated, especially among Republicans.

Compared to October 2022, Republican acceptance of Biden as the rightful winner in 2020 has increased from 33% to 38% and their confidence in the upcoming national vote count has increased from 49% to 57%.

95% of Democrats, 82% of Republicans, and 77% of partisan independents regard it as important for the losing presidential candidate to publicly concede defeat, but Pew finds that only 59% of Trump supporters think it is important for him to concede if Harris wins.

Experts overwhelmingly rate the Supreme Court’s July ruling establishing broad presidential immunity from criminal prosecution as a threat to American democracy, including 75% who view it as a serious or extraordinary threat.

After the collapse of Biden’s candidacy, the popularity of an age limit for presidential candidates among the public increased from 61% in September 2023 to 78% today. The increase was driven by Democrats and independents, whose support jumped from 60% and 66% last year to 89% and 81%, respectively. However, 57% of experts oppose the proposal.

Assassination attempts

More than a third of Democrats endorsed the claim that the July and September assassination attempts against Trump were staged. Conversely, four in 10 Republicans say that the assassination attempts were not staged but that multiple people were involved in each.

69% of Republicans endorse the claim that Democrats encouraged or incited the assassination attempts against Trump compared to 38% of independents and 9% of Democrats."

[raqi-marr]

HDG How-To: Class-E xenodrugs in real life

A while ago, I wrote one of my first posts on this blog about the experience of trying to recreate class-H's in real life by doing LSD. This was generally very successful, and having done it several more times since then, I can confidently say that if you want to feel like you are getting the floret brainwashing experience, LSD is a very good drug to do it with.

However, I recently had an unexpected and unplanned-for experience which has given me quite a lot of insight into what being on class-E's would probably be like in real life. My first exposure to anything that could be described as similar was when I started duloxetine (an anti-anxiety SNRI medication) last year. I can't actually remember super well what life was like before that any more, but my recollection is that after going on it, I noticed myself having substantially less intrusive thoughts/being less inclined to doom spiral about stuff any time I was unoccupied for more than 10 seconds. The entire experience was more complicated than that and deserves its own post some time, but it is also kind of boring and not all that class-E pilled so let me get to the good shit now

Yesterday, I was privileged enough to get to actually try cuddling another human being for the first time in my life (I say privileged because lord knows how many of us long distance relationship mfs go years without physical touch.) As it turns out, this shit makes SNRIs look like fucking sugar pills in comparison, because by the everbloom I have never been so fucking chilled out in my life as after an hour of getting held and squeezed by my partner

I have a bunch of anxiety conditions and am generally known by all my friends as That One Bitch With No Chill, so you can imagine my shock when, in the aftermath of this, I sat down at my chair and prepared to start worrying about how many jobs I have that I need to go and finish and how I probably did a shit job cuddling with my partner, and found that my brain just didn't feel inclined to do any of that stuff at all. Not just 'uninclined', but straight up refused to do it after repeated prompting from a very confused me

The best way I could sum up the experience was like someone had reached into Raqi_Settings.txt and set "anxiety_enabled = true" to "= false". It just did not work any more. This immediately reminded me of a couple scenes I'd read in HDG where pov chars get put on class-E's and just can't do that any more, and I started wondering "okay so wtf is happening to me, why did an hour of physical contact put me on fucking plommy-tier drugs"

The answer, which I figured I would share with everyone else who might be similarly inexperienced with the Terran capacity to self-synthesize xenodrugs, is oxytocin! If you're anything like me, you probably read 'oxytocin' and go "oh yeah that's the hormone that makes you feel all lovey and dopey around people, right?" and think that's more of a class-C thing. Well: yes, but also, apparently no; as it turns out, it does more stuff than that! A friend linked me this article describing the anxiolytic effects of oxytocin:

I am not a chemist so I'll be real: I don't understand this shit beyond the abstract, but the abstract seems to be all one really needs to get the main point here; namely, that oxytocin - in addition to being a bonding hormone - also makes you less stressed. A lot less stressed, it seems like.

So in essence, it seems as if Terrans synthesize their own class-E's from prolonged intimate physical contact. This strikes me as having a lot of potential HDG-coded play uses, and so I'll briefly go over a few of them below:

You can, at least theoretically, probably force someone to get less anxious just by (it'd have to be non-stressful, presumably, or this wouldn't work) physically restraining them and then snuggling with them lots

Have someone who chronically worries about stuff, and can't be convinced to chill out? Just turn their own body against them and make it drug them into forcibly relaxing! There's a lot of potential for very hot play in having someone who is very anxious and usually refuses comfort from their friends just getting forced to snuggle for a while, and the fact that if they don't break out of it, their brain is going to make them calm down adds a very fun con-noncon aspect to it.

I noticed while experimenting that the sound of someone's breathing/heartbeat is in fact very hypnotic, and I found myself naturally synchronising my own breathing with my partner's. This is probably about as close to core cuddles as it's possible to get irl.

Since oxytocin is also a class-C, you can bully whoever you're doing this to about how you are also forcing them to love and trust you in the process!

i am a dumb bitch who doesn't know how to stop working, and the thought of being forced to chill the fuck out by both physical and chemical means is very hot

The last thing I can think to note is that the general sensory overwhelm of being in such close proximity to another person also had a very strong quieting effect on my ADHD; which in turn made falling into a trance state not only easier, but automatic without any encouragement (oh yeah also I'm autistic and ime the sensory from getting squished tight is Very Good). the takeaway here being that it would probably be very easy to hypnotise someone who was being little spoon i think

So yes! I have not yet had the chance to experiment further with this, but I may make a follow-up post when I've had more time to come up with additional ideas. In general I just really like the idea that, if you're anxious, you can just go "hi hello please hold and squish me for an hour" and your brain responds with "understandable; disengaging anxiety module for the next 16 hours". all the memes about terrans being designed for touching were true it seems

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

Clean air and masking makes us all healthier.

By Hugo Francisco de Souza

In a recent study published in the journal Environmental Health Perspectives, researchers evaluated the relative risks of Long COVID following human exposure to several types of environmental pollutants. Their study leveraged data from the Catalonian COVICAT cohort (n = 2,853 Catalonian adults aged 40–65) and found that while air pollutant exposure (particularly particulate matter) increased Long COVID risk (PM2.5 RR = 1.14 [95% CI: 0.97–1.37], PM10 RR = 1.15 [95% CI: 0.98–1.39]), these associations were not statistically significant. Other environmental pollutants (noise, light, and green spaces) showed no such association.

Notably, study findings validate previous research suggesting the role of suspended particulate matter in COVID-19 severity and its indirect link to Long COVID risk through heightened initial infection severity, while highlighting subtle differences in Long COVID risk across sex, age, and education levels. It helps inform clinicians and policymakers of priorities when tackling this growing global public health concern.

Background Long COVID, also called ‘post-COVID-19 syndrome’ and ‘post-acute sequelae of COVID-19 (PASC)’ is an umbrella term for a group of symptoms that develop or persist for weeks, months, or even years following recovery from a coronavirus disease of 2019 (COVID-19) infection. Its symptoms vary substantially between patients and may include post-exertional malaise, fatigue, chest or muscle pain, and ‘brain fog’ (cognitive dysfunctions).

The duration and severity of Long COVID impart significant debilitation and socioeconomic stress to patients and their families, highlighting the need for identifying its risk factors and high-risk populations. Previous research has suggested that air pollution significantly contributes to COVID-19 infection severity and, in turn, Long COVID risk. However, such findings have often been limited by short study durations, reliance on self-reported data, and insufficient sample sizes. Furthermore, the impacts of other environmental pollutants remain unknown.

About the Study The present study aims to address present knowledge gaps by investigating the associations between urban environmental pollutant exposure and subsequent Long COVID risk. It leverages detailed, longitudinal self-reported online questionnaire data from the COVICAT cohort, a long-term prospective population-based cohort of Catalonian adults (40-65 years), supplemented with baseline medical data from the GCAT study (2019).

Study data was collected via three online questionnaires administered during the pandemic (2020, 2021, and 2023). Relevant data included sociodemographics (sex, age, education level) and clinical data (COVID-19 infection severity, body mass index [BMI], general health status, and vaccination details). Participants who remained unresponsive or provided incomplete data were excluded from statistical analyses.

The study further defined and investigated the prevalence and risk associations of ‘persistent Long COVID,’ symptoms which were reported in 2021 and persisted through 2023. Urban environmental pollutant exposure was assessed based on annual averages at participants' residential addresses. These included air (suspended particulate matter [PM2.5, PM10], nitrogen dioxide [NO2], and ozone [O3]), green space availability (including normalized difference vegetation index [NDVI]), nighttime road-traffic noise, and outdoor melanopic illuminance (blue light artificial light at night [ALAN]).

The association between each individual exposure and participant outcomes was evaluated using three mixed-effect robust Poisson regression models adjusted for sociodemographic, clinical, and infection severity factors. Statistical analyses included participants reporting COVID-19 infections but no subsequent Long COVID symptoms as controls.

Study Findings Out of the 2,853 participants included in the final dataset, 700 (24.5%) reported Long COVID symptoms, of which 153 (5%) reported persistent Long COVID. Women (n = 1,788, 27.6%) reported higher Long COVID prevalence than their male counterparts (n = 1,065, 19.4%). Education was found to be a significant determinant of Long COVID incidence, with university-educated participants (n = 1,557, 22.2%) demonstrating lower prevalence than those with only primary/lower education (n = 219, 29.2%).

Prior chronic disease substantially increased Long COVID risk (n = 1,013, 33.3%). COVID-19-associated clinical data revealed that infection severity and pre-infection vaccination administration were significant determinants, with the latter reducing Long COVID risk.

Notably, apart from suspended particulate matter exposure (PM2.5 RR = 1.14 [95% CI: 0.97–1.37], PM10 RR = 1.15 [95% CI: 0.98–1.39]), no other urban environmental pollutants were found to be associated with the heightened prevalence of Long COVID. These findings align with previous reports, albeit in a Catalonian-restricted sample cohort. Researchers speculate that particulate matter may influence Long COVID risk indirectly by increasing the severity of the initial infection.

Conclusions The present study investigates the impacts of several urban environmental pollutants (air, noise, green spaces, and light) on Long COVID or persistent Long COVID risk. Study findings reveal that suspended particulate matter increased the risk of Long COVID by exacerbating the severity of the initial COVID-19 infection. Women, participants with limited education, and those with pre-existing chronic diseases were found to demonstrate substantially higher Long COVID risk than their respective counterparts. Surprisingly, other evaluated environmental pollutants were not found to impact Long COVID incidence or prevalence.

“Further research focusing on Long COVID subtypes, symptom clusters, and potential mechanisms underlying observed associations will be crucial for enhancing our understanding of this complex condition,” the researchers concluded.

Journal reference: Saucy, A., Espinosa, A., Iraola-Guzmán, S., Castaño-Vinyals, G., Harding, B. N., Karachaliou, M., Ranzani, O., De Cid, R., Garcia-Aymerich, J., & Kogevinas, M. (2024). Environmental Exposures and Long COVID in a Prospective Population-Based Study in Catalonia (COVICAT Study). In Environmental Health Perspectives (Vol. 132, Issue 11). Environmental Health Perspectives, DOI – 10.1289/ehp15377, ehp.niehs.nih.gov/doi/10.1289/EHP15377

[growingingreenwood]

Some (mostly unforeseen) Effects of Thranduil's Enchanted River In No Particular Order.

1 - The river seems to be nutritious, for lack of a better word.

Plants that grow from its enchanted water grow faster, bigger, bear more fruit, and are noticeably more individually aware of themselves and the world than plants that grow farther away from the riverbanks. The animals that live in its waters and the land animals that ritually drink the water are similarly affected, growing larger and smarter than their counterparts in unaffected waters. According to some, the animals even taste better and keep for longer before spoiling.

 Humans that ritually drink the water (like the people of Laketown) suffer from fewer diseases and are generally less affected by them when they do occur and on average have longer lifespans than other humans by about 5 - 10 years. There’s no real PROOF of this, but it’s also believed that Humans who regularly consume the enchanted waters are significantly less susceptible to the pull to darkness, this is thought because so very few of the humans who live around Mirkwood join the forces of darkness even though they’re literally right beside it for several generations. 

Any creature of light that consumes the water will have their thirst quenched faster than they would have with other liquids, and foods made using its water will fill your stomach faster than food made without. (Same principle as Lembas bread.) 

2 - Creatures of Darkness are harmed by the River Water, as it acts like an extremely acidic or corrosive substance to them. Even a few drops on their skin can give them huge welts or blisters, stepping into the water causes severe burns on anything that touches the water, and prolonged exposure can essentially disintegrate whatever it is touching. So if an Orc falls into the river, they will somewhat quickly get burned/boiled alive and then disintegrate and break apart into the water.

Creatures that have a neutral relationship with Greenwood and its elves are mostly unaffected by the water. If it gets splashed onto them the water can numb the area for several hours any substantial exposure to it (such as stepping into it, drinking it, or falling into it) will result in being put into a deep and magical sleep. The sleep is lifted either by being removed from the forest, or the elves coming to investigate and personally dispelling whatever charm put the creature to sleep.

3 - Depending on who you talk to, some say that the River itself can come to life and act of its own free will, a bit like the tree’s can. There’s reports of the river ‘luring’ people into its waters. There’s also reports of Jets of Water shooting out to injure or distract anything trying to harm the elves.

The most spectacular stories along this vein include a figure rising from the water in the form of a beautiful elvish woman, with only her feet remaining as ‘normal’ water. It's an extremely rare occurrence and usually means something, very, very bad for the creatures of darkness. Rumor has it that the river takes the shape of King Thranduil’s wife that passed away.

4 - The water remains the same temperature year round. It feels slightly cool in the summer, but in the winter it remains warm enough that the river never freezes completely over and neither does the lake which Lake Town resides on. No matter how cold the rest of the world around the water is, on particularly cold days a little bit of steam can be seen rising into the air.

5 - The average magical power among Greenwood Elves is a bit higher than most other elven populations, and it's thought that this is due to them ingesting so much of Thranduil’s Enchanted Water. The additional magical power also helps them to resist the negative effects of living so close to Dol Guldur for so long.  It’s also thought that this is why the bond between the Greenwood Elves and things of nature (especially Tree's) is so much stronger than it is for others.

6 - The water acts as a highly effective shield against the magic of others. Its the river that prevents the other elven realms from seeing and sensing much in Greenwood no matter how hard they try. It doesn’t affect Thranduil and his people's ability to see OUT of the forest though, if anything, it probably makes it easier.

[evidence-based-activism]

all stereotypes are rooted in some reality (e.g. women being bad drivers). It wouldn’t be so pervasive if it wasn’t somewhat true. Men drive more, and many of them who drive vehicles for a living do it for longer periods of time through harsher conditions, they drive more difficult to manoeuvre vehicles e.g. lorries, buses, trucks etc.

Also, recklessness doesn’t mean that men aren’t skilled drivers. Recklessness is a choice, but driving aptitude and ability generally isn’t. Men are proven to be far more skilled and able drivers. You can argue that they are more antisocial drivers than women or that they don’t make conscientious choices when driving, but that is a different conversation. Women being better rule followers doesn’t mean they’re skilled lol.

So, this is in response to this post, where I explain – thoroughly – how men cause more car crashes and engage in significantly more risky driving behaviors (measure both objectively and subjectively).

I am genuinely amazed, Anon, that you somehow seem to think that men can be the more "antisocial", more "reckless", get into more crashes, and still somehow be a "better" driver than women. However, I actually have even more sources for this topic, so allow me to explain in more detail how men are worse at driving than women.

---

all stereotypes are rooted in some reality (e.g. women being bad drivers).

Incorrect. Just because you believe something is true, Anon, doesn't make it true. For example, here are my posts about how women are not worse at mathematics or spatial ability than men, women do not have lower IQs than men, and men and women do not feel attraction in fundamentally different ways.

So, no stereotypes need not be rooted in reality.

It wouldn’t be so pervasive if it wasn’t somewhat true.

I broke this out primarily to inquire if you also believe in the pervasive antisemitic conspiracy theories about blood libel? What about the pervasive stereotype that gay men are pedophiles? The racist, unscientific comparisons between Black people and monkeys?

Are you capable of recognizing that all (any?) of these ideas are baseless and bigoted? (Either way, I suggest doing some reading into the "argumentum ad populum" fallacy.)

Men drive more, and many of them who drive vehicles for a living do it for longer periods of time through harsher conditions, they drive more difficult to manoeuvre vehicles e.g. lorries, buses, trucks etc.

(Some of the following information is repeated from the replies in the original post.)

Riskier behaviors

Previous work has estimated that ~70% of all road accidents are the result of risky behavior (e.g., driving under the influence, distracted driving, speeding, etc.) by the driver(s) [1]. That makes the fact that men are substantially more likely to engage in these risky behaviors – as indicated by sources 1 and 5-9 in the original post – relevant. Within source 9 from the original post, their sources 12-17 confirm men’s greater riskier driving behaviors and 18-27 address men’s riskier mentality surrounding driving.

A bad driver is someone who puts themselves or others at risk on the road, and, clearly, men are substantially more likely to do this. And an additional report by the AAA Foundation for Traffic Safety [2] further indicated that "60% ... Most Dangerous Drivers were males, whereas 57% of the Safe Drivers were females," further supporting this finding.

Driving exposure adjustment

Men have a higher crash rate even when you adjust for their greater driving times, as supported by sources 3 and 9 from the original post. (Within source 9, their sources 8-11 also adjust for amount driven.) Source 3 also demonstrated men had greater fatalities involvement, adjusted for distance traveled, in each vehicle category.

In addition to that, this longitudinal study from Australia [3] shows that men had a higher crash rate than women even after adjusting for driving exposure. In fact, they have a higher crash rate even after further adjusting for drug/alcohol use, risk taking, training and experience, and several other factors.

They were also more likely to be in a crash in dark or wet conditions, at high-speeds, and in single vehicle crashes, again even after adjusting for all of those potential confounding variables. The only crash type women were in at a higher rate was crashes resulting in hospitalization, which can be explained by how car safety features are not designed for women. (Again, see the original post sources 10-11.)

This study from Russia [4] examining serious crashes further confirms these results, finding men were more likely to be involved in crashes even after adjusting for the number of drivers and distance driven. They are also more likely to commit “ aggravated road accidents" and drive under the influence.

This older American study [5] confirms these results again, finding higher crash rates for men than women in both the daytime and nighttime, after adjusting for the amount driven.

In other words, men get into more crashes than women, even after adjusting for the amount they drive, the conditions they drive in, and even the risks they take.

Driving for the job

Now, men make up much more of the professional drivers’ workforce (e.g., truck driving) than women, although I have spoken many times about how this is because men deliberately prevent women from joining male-dominated jobs.

Regardless, the demographic makeup is irrelevant, since when women do become professional truck drivers, they do better than men [6-7].

Male truck drivers are more likely to be "cited for a major violation of rules" and "to have a major unsafe driving violation" [6]. In addition, a 2022 update by the American Transportation Research Institute found "males continue to be more likely than females to have violations, convictions, and crash involvement" [7].

Another study [8] found "male [bus] drivers not only have more accidents but also are more likely to get involved in higher severe accidents." A result which is confirmed in a more recent analysis [9].

So, no, men's higher crash rates are not because they drive trucks or busses for a living. Male truck and bus drivers are also more likely to get into crashes/be unsafe than female truck and bus drivers.

Bonus: traffic tickets

This review article [10] indicates males are more likely to repeat traffic violations. These articles [11-12] also found men receive more traffic tickets/citations than women. As did source 5 in the original post.

Also, recklessness doesn’t mean that men aren’t skilled drivers. Recklessness is a choice, but driving aptitude and ability generally isn’t.

Anon, what exactly do you think makes someone a good driver? If someone is placing themselves and other people at risk, then they are bad at driving.

Now, not engaging in reckless behaviors may not be sufficient to make someone a good driver, but it is absolutely necessary. We are operationalizing our definition of "bad driver" as "gets into a crash and/or engages in high-crash-risk behaviors", which is necessary for us to quantify the data for analysis.

That being said, as shown above, men get into more crashes even when you adjust for their greater propensity towards reckless behaviors. So, no, men are not simply hiding their superior skills under their poor choices.

Men are proven to be far more skilled and able drivers.

No, they aren't. I have, at this point, provided you with 30+ sources explaining how they are not. Your refusal to accept factual information does not make it any less true.

You can argue that they are more antisocial drivers than women or that they don’t make conscientious choices when driving,

Yes, I have provided you with substantial research to that effect.

but that is a different conversation.

Again, it really isn't. Men choose to create dangerous situations for themselves and others on the road. This makes them bad drivers.

If a heavy machinery operator chose to violate safety regulations, you would say they are bad at their job. If a doctor chose to endanger their patients by practicing drunk, you would say they are a bad doctor. If a construction worker or architecture designer ignored building codes, you would say they are bad at their jobs.

It's the same for driving; men choose to ignore the rules and choose to put people at risk. Therefore, they are bad drivers.

Women being better rule followers doesn’t mean they’re skilled lol.

Again, following the rules for driving may not be sufficient for being considered a skilled driver, but it is necessary. Not to mention the fact that, as indicated, adjusting for risk taking did not eliminate the gender gap in crash rates.

Conclusion

Women are better at driving, as per decades of cross national research. Often repeated, misogynistic, stereotypes do not change this.

References under the cut:

McCarty, D., & Kim, H. W. (2024). Risky behaviors and road safety: An exploration of age and gender influences on road accident rates. PLoS one, 19(1), e0296663.

AAA Foundation for Traffic Safety. (2023). 2022 Traffic Safety Culture Index (Technical Report). Washington, D.C.: AAA Foundation for Traffic Safety.

Cullen, P., Möller, H., Woodward, M., Senserrick, T., Boufous, S., Rogers, K., ... & Ivers, R. (2021). Are there sex differences in crash and crash-related injury between men and women? A 13-year cohort study of young drivers in Australia. SSM-population health, 14, 100816.

Belov, M., & Kazun, A. (2024). Beware of His Car: Why Are Men More Dangerous than Women Behind the Wheel?.

Massie, D. L., Green, P. E., & Campbell, K. L. (1997). Crash involvement rates by driver gender and the role of average annual mileage. Accident Analysis & Prevention, 29(5), 675–685. doi:10.1016/s0001-4575(97)00037-7 

Scott, A., Davis-Sramek, B., & Ketchen Jr, D. J. (2024). Men at work… unsafely: Gender differences in compliance with safety regulations in the trucking industry. Production and Operations Management, 10591478241235145.

Markus, A., & Murray, D. (2022). Predicting Truck Crash Involvement: 2022 Update. American Transportation Research Institute.

Feng, S., Li, Z., Ci, Y., & Zhang, G. (2016). Risk factors affecting fatal bus accident severity: Their impact on different types of bus drivers. Accident Analysis & Prevention, 86, 29–39. doi:10.1016/j.aap.2015.09.025 

Zhu, T., Qin, D., & Jia, W. (2023). Examining the associations between urban bus drivers’ rule violations and crash frequency using observational data. Accident Analysis & Prevention, 187, 107074.

Kaur, A., Williams, J., Recker, R., Rose, D., Zhu, M., & Yang, J. (2023). Subsequent risky driving behaviors, recidivism and crashes among drivers with a traffic violation: A scoping review. Accident Analysis & Prevention, 192, 107234.

Mohammadzadeh Moghaddam, A., Sadeghi, A., Jalili Qazizadeh, M., Farhad, H., & Barakchi, M. (2018). Investigating the relationship between driver’s ticket frequency and demographic, behavioral, and personal factors: Which drivers commit more offenses? Journal of Transportation Safety & Security, 1–20. doi:10.1080/19439962.2018.1477