#the controls in the first one were a mess

[destinedfordiapers]

Dancing Through Life

This is Part Two of the series I’m writing with @paci-papa, catch up on Part One here!

One thing is crystal clear as you lay there in a soggy diaper, waiting for your babysitters to change you:

It’s going to be a long weekend.

For the last few months, Papa had been your whole world. He made you feel so safe, so secure you never thought twice about becoming his babygirl.

You didn’t mind the wet and messy diapers you wore all day. Or how your adult clothes were swapped for your current infantile wardrobe. You didn’t even mind that your adulthood was a thing of the past, never to return.

Papa was always there to make everything better. To assure you that you were right where you belonged.

It was like the outside world ceased to exist.

“You were so right, babe. She really is better off like this! It’s hard to believe it’s her. No more attitude, no more sass. Just a well-behaved pamper packer!”

Not anymore.

Papa didn’t leave you with just any babysitters. No, you had a history with the two babysitters smiling down at you.

“Well, I wish I could take credit for the docile little thing waiting so patiently for a diaper change! But her Papa deserves all the credit. All I did was put her back in diapers where she belongs!”

Two years ago, before your new life as Papa’s poopy pamper princess, Trevor was your boyfriend. But he could only handle your attitude and immaturity for so long. Especially when your drunken escapades ended with a soaked bed.

“Well, judging by how fast she tinkled through this diaper, it was the right decision!”

You foolishly look up and make eye contact with Liv. Pee trickles into your diaper as you see her condescending grin.

Ugh, you hated Liv.

The woman who stole Trevor from you.

You remember that same condescending grin on her face when Trevor put your nighttime diaper on you before she ran off to bed with him. Or how she’d always check your diaper in her lingerie first thing in the morning.

And the horrible way she’d loudly comment that you made an “oopsie daisy in her diaper” whenever you woke up wet.

Liv stops Trevor as he walks to you with a new diaper and changing supplies.

“Babe, I’m a little concerned about Erica’s tummy. Her Papa says she usually makes a boom boom before lunch, but it’s already afternoon, and she’s only tinkled, poor thing.”

Your face turns a shade of red so bright a tomato would be jealous.

“Honey,” Trevor says, “Are you holding your poopoo?”

You cover your face in shame. “I…I…”

Liv jumps in with a sickeningly sweet voice, “Little one, you have nothing to be embarrassed about, okay? We’re your babysitters! Our job is to change poopy diapers!”

You whimper, dreading what’s about to happen. “I…don’t have to…”

“Hmm. Why don’t we help make things easy, sweetie?” Liv says, grabbing your feet, “Let’s do bicycle kicks until you fill your diaper?”

“B-bicycle kicks?” you whimper.

“Yes, little one. They always work on my little niece!”

Before you can react, Liv starts moving your legs back and forth, slowly pushing them towards you before pulling back, cycling each leg.

“Mmmm,” you whimper, doing your best not to mess your diaper in front of Liv like an actual baby.

For a minute or two, the only sounds are your diaper crinkles and Liv's humming. A loud, foreboding gurgle erupts from your tummy.

You whimper, feeling your control dwindling. Every time Liv pushes your legs, you feel your control slipping. You desperately try to fight the inevitable.

Without warning, a loud toot trumpets into the room.

“Good girl, Erica! Get all your toot-toots out!” Liv coos.

It happens slowly, then all at once.

Your eyes go wide as you feel your mess sliding slowly, inevitably, into your diaper, which crackles as you fill it. Nothing you do makes any difference.

Trevor laughs, “Wow, you were right, Liv! Works like a charm!”

You have no control, like the baby you’ve become.

Each time Liv pushes, more mess slides into your diaper. She pushes on and on, your diaper struggling to contain your onslaught.

“Almost done, honey?” Liv asks, inspecting your diaper, “Anymore poopoo and we might have a blowout!”

All you can do is nod your head, too mortified to answer.

“Awwww, what did I say about being ashamed of your stinkies, baby? They’re part of life for you now. Besides, it’s not like waiting would’ve changed anything! Diapers are your potty now, silly!”

You cower as the smell engulfs you, a constant reminder of your new place in life.

Liv pats your diaper playfully. “Such a big mess, too! You musta felt so icky holding all that in!”

“No wonder Papa needs a break!” Trevor adds, “Diaper duty for little Erica here is no easy task.”

“Oh, stop, Trev. Don’t make baby Erica feel bad, she can’t help it. She’s just a baby!”

You look up at Liv with a feminine rage that fizzles out immediately. Liv meets your glance.

She’s taunting you. She knows you’re no longer a woman—you’re a silly baby in a poopy diaper.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry, honey. Besides, I like you so much better this way! It was a mistake potty training you, but Papa is fixing that mistake! Your attitude is so much better when you’re pampered.”

Hearing that, you whimper, kicking your feet in shame. But too embarrassed to throw an actual tantrum.

As you kick, your bulging diaper sways heavily, threatening to burst.

“Awwwww, you can say that again,” Liv giggles, “Look at her go! Big girl things like drinking, sex, and work were much too big a responsibility for you. Papa was right taking them away from you.”

Trevor nods in agreement.

“Now all you have to worry about is being Papa’s pretty princess! It’s hard to have a bad attitude when you’re in a loaded diaper, isn’t it?”

Liv tickles your sides, cooing you. “Come on, lil stinker. Let’s get that diaper changed. You’re not getting diaper rash on our watch!”

As Liv changes your diaper, you can’t help but think about your new life—and what it means to be Papa’s pamper packer.

It was so easy to get lost in the silliness of being his princess when it was just the two of you. Papa made everything so perfect, so comfortable, you couldn’t help but want to be his diapered little princess.

But you forgot that you don’t get to stay home all day. There’s a whole world outside your cozy crib and comfy changing table.

And now you know exactly where you fit in.

Pamper packers like you may be cute and adorable, but nobody will ever take you seriously again. Not as an adult. To everyone, you’re nothing but an oversized baby in need of a caregiver.

You used to think of yourself as a beautiful, sexy woman. As Liv grabs another wipe to clean your poopy princess parts, you know those days are long gone.

Pamper packers don’t have sex. They get their princess parts wiped clean before being safely secured in another diaper before being sent off to play.

Later that night, the reality of your new life carries into the guest room. The sounds of Liv’s pleasure breaks the silence of the night.

You listen, imagining that it was you moaning. Getting lost in your fantasy, crinkles erupt from your bed as you desperately hump your pillow to the rhythm of the moans.

A crinkle symphony nobody will ever hear.

[chrissv4mp]

♱ STUDY SESH

billie shouldn't feel this way. not about you, and especially not about your fingers that were currently gripping the pencil in your hand as you wrote down notes for an upcoming math test. it was a casual motion, and it wasn't supposed to be arousing at all.

but, in billie's twisted mind, the gentle grip you had made her stomach flip in every different direction.

and you were quick to catch on. it was obvious with the way her eyes stayed glued onto your lengthy fingers whenever you turned to tell her you were ready to move on, and the second that you told her to stop so you could write, her eyes would already be locked onto your hands.

so now, here you were: your knees digging into the hardwood floor, one hand holding billie's thigh open while the other held her waist as you leaned closer and closer to her warm, sopping cunt.

it was torture the way you teased her, your fingers dancing along the skin of her inner thigh only to pull away and pout at her mockingly. she was on the verge of tears.

"jus' one? i'll—please, i'll..." billie's voice trails off, cutting off into a whine when you drag your fingers along her inner thigh.

her eyes never leave you, glasses crooked on the bridge of her nose as she sniffles. she tries to blink back the tears brimming in her eyes, but it's no use because as soon as she gains the smallest amount of control of herself, your fingers are running through her puffy folds, slick with her sticky arousal.

"oh my god," billie whines, voice barely a whisper as her pussy clenches around nothing, back arching away from the couch cushions, "ohmygodohmygod."

you don't pay her any mind, simply smiling and dragging your fingers through her sensitive folds once again. you give her a few more strokes before you hear her frustrated whine.

"ma—mama, i—i can't," she cries softly, face red and tears beginning to run down her cheeks, "n'more teasin'. please."

her hands stay at her sides, pushing at the pillows just to pull them back so hard that her knuckles bleed white. she didn't wanna mess up your pretty hair, even if you were starting to get her all worked up and frustrated.

when you finally look up into her eyes with hooded ones, her lips part even wider, and before she can stop it, she feels the knot in her stomach snap.

you gasp softly, eyes widening in the slightest as you watch billie's cum leak from her pretty cunt and onto your fingers, dripping down her folds and soaking the couch cushions. you couldn't even imagine the conversation she'd need to have with her parents later.

"i—oh my god, what—i..." you don't reply, staying silent despite the sticky feeling between your own thighs growing wetter and wetter the more you look at your tutor—and nerdy best friend.

she looks like a beautiful mess. her hair was a mess from all the squirming, her glasses even more crooked than before, and her face stained with tear streaks. you couldn't even be mad at her.

"i didn't even get to touch you properly, bil." you coo, frowning up at her as you retract your hand from between her trembling legs, "you're just that sensitive, huh?"

billie doesn't know what to say, her lips opening and closing like she has something to say but she doesn't know how to say it. she feels her heart skip a beat whenever you bring your fingers up to your mouth and slowly push them past your plump, pink lips.

the action is so dirty, something she'd never seen before, but she wanted to see it a million times more. the way you thrust your fingers in and out of your mouth, it makes her heart race and her pussy wet. even more than before.

"still wanna feel you 'round my fingers." you murmur against your digits, pulling them out from between your lips with a 'pop'. the confused look on the poor girls' face is enough to make you laugh.

"isn't that what you wanted in the first place, hon?"

billie's heart feels like it stops whenever your palm lands against her cunt in a sharp, harsh slap. it's enough to make fresh tears swell in her eyes, but it's also enough to make the knot in her stomach tighten again.

"don't start cryin' again," you coo, but really, her mewls and weak whimpers are music to your ears.

"'m'sorry." billie cries, shaking her head, "jus'—please, don't—no more." she begs, but the desperation still swirling in her eyes tells you otherwise.

so, you finally push one of your digits into billie's tight hole, and by the quiet squeak that you hear from the nerdy girl, you know she's already feeling full.

guess you needed to stretch her out.

LETTERS. this is all i can give you guys right now 😓 i've been super unmotivated this past month, and it might be due to some things in my personal life or simply just because i really don't feel like writing recently. but i promise i'll be back on my grind & will start to dig into my drafts sometime. seasonal depression is really hitting hard, so i'm sorry i haven't been very active :( i love you all soso much!!! 🤍

TAGS. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @vyntagess @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @stonerfromlesbos @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @karaeilishh @mybluebossanova @sturnsmia @moralesluvr @justtr @greenbttrflyy @bilslovebot @natbelovasblog @lottiepierce @northlndnisred @asterisk-eyes @dragoneyelashart @xxangelfarrlzxx @fawninlove @meliciousmel13

[vampiresbloodx]

I wonder how good your hands feel around my neck.

pairings: Vi x reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings/contains(18+ ONLY): smut, Vi loves her some tits, clubbing, tattoo artist!vi, innocent!reader, porn without plot/plot what plot, top!vi, dirty talk, flirting, daddy vi, fingering

You have the absolute filthiest thoughts that come to mind while getting tattooed. Some you really can’t control, they just appear and you end up fixated on them for hours, before you know it, your session has ended.��

Vi, short for Violet, is the first artist who’s ever tattooed you ever. With her pink hair, to her muscles that are covered in ink. You can’t help but wonder how strong she is, you know she’s talked about how she did boxing one time, she even tried karate, many forms where she gets to fight and use her hands. 

You know she’s good with her hands. 

When you first got your tattoo done by her, you focused on the way her fingers moved the entire time and how the art came alive on your skin, the needle not even bothering you. She was impressed at how long you can stay still. 

You were slightly surprised yourself. You didn’t mind the pain, the pain had slowly turned into pleasure meeting halfway. That’s what made it all worth it. 

You’d work more hours just to save more money so you could see her again, you thought at first you loved her style, how she worked, all that. But then you realised it was more than that. 

Almost you wanted to stop going to her, and you did for a while, focusing on other things in your personal life. Actually trying to hang out with your friends and go outside instead of only going to work and the few shops and stores you went to. It was nice for a while, you did miss her, which felt stupid when she didn’t know you at all. She was just a girl that gave you a few tattoos, some of your best. 

And then you saw her again. 

You went out with a couple of friends on a saturday night, you couldn’t describe the shock you were in when you saw a familiar pink haired girl who was at the same bar as you. Even in a big city, it's strange how you can see the same faces again. 

She was actually here. 

You couldn’t contain how much your heart was racing, you weren’t even paying attention to anything your friend was saying, she grinned when she saw who you were staring at. 

“Hey, is that-” 

“That’s no one,” you interrupted quickly, looking away.

She smiled more. 

“Just go and talk to her, it won’t be as weird since you two already know each other.” 

You shook your head, “that would still be fucking weird and you know it.” 

She shrugged, “maybe a little. But what if I told you she’s coming your way right now?” 

Wait, what? 

Before you could ask any more questions as you thought she was messing with you, it turns out she wasn’t. Just as you turned around to look where Vi was, she was really walking towards you, in your direction, maybe she might just walk past, not even notice you, maybe she saw someone else instead. 

And of course your friend ditched you. 

You heard your name being called. 

It never sounded so much nicer coming from her mouth. 

“Vi? Hey” you tried to act smoothly, as if you didn’t know she was already here. 

“I have to say, you look good, like really good.” 

Did she just?... 

Were you actually dreaming right now? 

“You look great yourself” you decided to say back, it didn’t seem like it would hurt if you flirted back a little. 

She really did though. She wore black ripped jeans, loose tank top that showed a bit of her abs that you couldn’t help but look at shamelessly. God you were obsessed with her. You had an issue. But right now all you could think about was how her hands would feel around your neck as she fucked you silly. 

You didn’t see how much closer she got to stand next to you, until your hands brushed against one another. You couldn’t focus. With the loud music blasting in your ears, the lingering touches. What did she want? 

“Where are your friends?” she asks, her eyes never leaving yours, as you bite down on your bottom lip. 

“She left, of course.” 

“She left a pretty girl like you all by yourself?” she hummed, tilting her head to the side. “Can I keep you company for a lil while? I can make it worth your time.” 

How could you ever deny her? 

You followed her back to her place, you haven’t gone home with someone in a while, you’re happier it was with her than any other stranger. 

She held your hand with a strong grip, leading you the way, making sure you were always with her. The silence between you both wasn't even uncomfortable, you actually enjoyed it. 

It was the thrill of her that was exciting to you, you craved more. 

You laughed with her as her hands roamed your body, touching you wherever she pleases and where you wanted her to be. You let her. And then you found yourself begging for more, it wasn’t long until she had you where she wanted you to be, on top of you as she teased you, slowly taking your clothes off. 

“I hate to take these pretty clothes off, but I think i’d be more happy to see your naked body” she licked her lips, you made a noise as she raised an eyebrow at you. “Someones getting needy.” 

“Please, just touch me” you whimpered.

She spread your thighs apart, keeping one hand a tight grip on them to make sure you don’t move as much. You liked it. The way she stared at you had you squirming. 

“But i'm already touching you?” she teased, and so easily, she slipped a finger inside your wet pussy, moaning at how well you fit her, she wanted to fill you up. 

“God baby, you’re soaking” she groaned, thrusting her finger in and out slowly on purpose, hearing you whine louder, she loved how vocal you got the harder and faster she fucked you. 

Her other hand played with your tits, as she groped you and fondled with them, you were on cloud nine, why didn’t you do this sooner? You both wondered. She really wanted to taste you badly. She wanted to make you cum on her face, make you ride her, hear just how loud you can get. 

She added another finger in and another, stretching you out as she imagined how fucking sexy you’ll look riding her thick strap on, as you cried sweetly. 

“Who knew you were such a slut, behind how innocent you showed yourself to others” she chuckled. She felt herself getting more turned on, getting off on how wet you are for her. “You gonna come for me, baby? Make a mess on my fingers? I want you to come.” 

You let out a sweet release of a beautiful cry, she wanted more. Your heart thumped loudly in your ears as your body shook. Still you craved her touch. You didn’t just want it to be over, and she didn’t plan on stopping anytime soon. 

“I hope you’re not thinking of leaving me.” 

“No, I need you.” 

“Good girl, now come use me as a seat, would you?.” 

[henry7931]

Billy’s College Adventure Part 3

Samuel:

“Good Morning,” says Billy to me from my body.I almost have to do a double take after seeing myself laying next to me.

“Morning,” I say with a grin.

“So it’s Saturday, what do you have planned for us Mr. Bodythief?,”

“Well you’re gonna just have to dressed to find out,” I say back.

“Booooo!!!”

I stand up and Billy tosses a pillow at me.

“Relax! I’ll tell you more, let’s just get ready,” I say winking at him.

We both get dressed and it took all of my energy not to ask him if we could hook up in the shower.

I’m starting to really like Billy but I have this weird thing about getting too attached to a guy. Especially with the assholes I’ve dated in the past. I’ve just been burned too many times although Billy seems different…

I don’t know…I just don’t want him to think I’m too clingy. Which I now realize is an oxymoron since we are literally in each other’s bodies.

Anyways enough about my feels.

Billy and I head back to my apartment.

“This place looks familiar,” says Billy sarcastically.

“It’s not much especially compared to your place but it’s my temporary home,” I say back.

“Ohhh come this isn’t bad at all!”

“Billy you’re in a full ass house,” I say rolling my eyes.

“Okay, you’re right. I’m just the rich privileged kid.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re at least aware,” I say pushing your shoulder.

“So what’s the game plan? Are we just gonna stand around in your apartment?”

“ No. I need the book that my great uncle left me.”

I head into my room and open up my closet. I grab the book from the top shelf.

“So Billy, are you ready to put your powers to test?”

“Geez, I think so.”

“Good!”

I start scrolling through the book digging for the part where it talks about the power of having to swappers.

“Here it is!”

I’d start skimming through it and get to a specific part.

I start reading aloud, “ one swapper is powerful, but their abilities can be limited… but with two swappers now that’s some real power. Rarely in our culture you will see two swappers who are capable of getting along… But if two swappers can conjoin powers together, they can do some really interesting things. For instance, swapping and creating a new reality . Two swappers have the ability to swap two individuals bodies, and change the perception of reality where both individuals think that the body they are in has always been their body. Essentially, neither one of them know that they are swapped and everyone else around them thinks that has been their body the whole time.”

I stopped reading for a second and look up a Billy to see what his thoughts were about what I just read.

“ are you gonna keep going?”

“ well yeah, what do you think though?”

“ I think that’s pretty freaking cool. I mean it could be a little bit messed up, but I’m kind of interested to try it.”

“ Really? Are you 100% sure?”

“ yeah let’s do it!”

I continue to read the rest of the page and I get through all of the instructions.

“ OK Billy, now we have to find some guinea pigs.”

“ I mean, should we start with someone we know or try it with a stranger first?”

“ Well I think I controlled environment would be best. Somewhere where we cant let them walk away and lose them immediately after the swap.”

“Smart!”

“ I’m a genius right? Also, Billy, this doesn’t have to be the first one we try.”

“Wait, what else can two swappers do?”

“Do you want me to tell you about all the other swap powers or can I jump right to the one I really want to try?”

"HOW MANY MORE ARE THERE?!?"

"Let's start with this one, third party possession. Or I like to call it-- a person puppet. Basically one of us can take over someone body without leaving the one we are in habiting. It's like two bodies at once."

"Does that person know that you or I have taken over their body?"

"No... I have read this one over a couple of times now. Basically they will be in a unaware state while one of us are in control."

"Okay, I guess that one sounds less chaotic. Who should we try it on?"

I thought about it for a minute and then I had someone in mind. I peaked out at the window to see if my neighbor was home.

"I got someone who could work," I say with a mischievous grin.

“Who?”

“My neighbor Reid, you’ll like him or at least his body lol.”

“Wait am I going to possess him?!?”

“Yeah, I think you’ll like it.”

“Fuck, fine! Let’s do this!!”

I grab Billy’s or I guess my hands and say, “I want you to focus. Thinking about all of your powers almost like you’re about to swap with someone, okay?”

“Got it.”

“Now close your eyes and picture a part of yourself floating out of my body, not all of yourself… just a part.”

“Okay…”

“Can you see it?”

It takes a minute for Billy to focus but then I see our hands and they start glowing a bit.

“I can see it,” he says softly.

“Great, now picture that second half of you floating out the window to the house door.”

Billy’s closed eyes move shut.

“I’m in the neighbor’s house… I can see everything inside. Wait, I hear someone… sleeping… now I’m in his room. Holy shit! I can see him!!”

“Really?!? Now Billy this is what you’re going to do next, float into him. Doesn’t matter how you do it.”

Billy’s eyes spring open and he says, “I’m in him. I feel his body… it’s so strange Sam. I’m him and I’m me.”

“Well come on over lol!”

“Okay one sec.”

A few minutes later and our front door swings open. It’s my neighbor’s body.

“What’s up you sexy fellas!!”

I turn to Billy and then back at Reid’s body as they are both grinning cheek to cheek.

I watch as Billy coordinates Reid’s body over to a chair.

“Look at these muscles Sam!,” says Reid’s body

“Fuck this is so hot! I’m watching myself control him, it’s like I can do some kind of strange role play. Wait a minute!!”

Reid’s body tugs off his tank top and then his shoes and socks.

He stares down at the giant feet and says, “they’re big.”

I watch as he picks up foot and smells it. He rubs Reid face all over his massive foot.

“This is so wrong but I’m so turned on. You’re gonna either have to watch or join us.”

Billy still in my body walks over to the giant hunk and reaches into his shorts.

They say in unison, “that feels good.”

I was starting to get hard just watching both bodies interact. Billy started running my hands over Reid’s muscles.

He pulls off Reid shorts and underwear. His dick comes out and both of us marvel at the giant cock.

“Let’s take turns with it,” he says from Reid’s body. “Shit I meant to say that from your body!”

We both laugh and I say, “All good lol, bedroom?”

“Great idea! You fellas are gonna have fun with me aren’t you? Especially this giant cock!,” says Reid’s body standing up while shaking his dick.

“Yes sir,” I say to him.

Billy picks me up in Reid’s arms and carries me to my bed.

We all three climb in and Billy asks me, “could you tend Reid’s junk.”

“Sure!!”

I grab onto the massive dick girthy dick. It’s surprising to see just how big it is.

“Are you gonna just stare it or suck it?,” says Reid’s body.

I turn to Billy down by Reid’s feet. He’s giggling and says, “sorry, I have two hard dick right now!”

I try to take as much of Reid’s I could fit in my mouth. It’s just so big. I get the entire thing wet and use a hand to work the shaft and his big hairy balls.

Billy on the other hand pulls off my pants and begins using Reid’s feet for a foot job.

Both of them moan in unison and say, “FUCK! You have no idea how amazing this feels!!”

I pump Reid’s dick faster and faster…

Both of them moan louder and louder….

Billy in my body reaches up under his ass cheeks and fondles his my body’s cock for me.

“LET ME FINISH IN MY MOUTH PLEASE SAM!,” he screams out.

I’m forcing Billy’s throat down on Reid’s dick.

Both of them scream out, “FUCKKKKKKKK!!!!”

That’s when rounds of cum squirt down my throat. It fills my throat and I can’t take anymore.

I look down at Reid’s dick and it’s still pouring more and more out.

Billy in my body cums all over Reid’s feet both of them grinning.

I fall back on the bed and both my body and Reid’s body with Billy still in control use themselves to give me every inch of pleasure.

Billy in my body climbs to my face and start making out. He twist’s his actual body’s sensitive nipples. Meanwhile Reid’s body sucking me off and tickling Billy body’s ballsack.

I can’t only take so much before I blew my load into Reid’s mouth…

All three or two… I don’t know… we just lay back cuddled up.

I turn to Billy in my body and say, “That was amazing.”

Billy grins and says, “we are definitely going to try this again!”

[cheeseatlantic]

i want his ass

MDNI!! (photo creds to @ave661)

OVERDRIVE

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem reader

The night is still electric, the lingering scent of fuel and asphalt mixing with the crisp air. Your body hums with adrenaline, muscles tight from gripping him too hard during the ride, thighs still buzzing from where they pressed against the sleek body of the motorcycle. Ghost killed the engine minutes ago, but the rush hasn’t faded—not from him, not from you.

And judging by the way he’s looking at you now? It won’t.

He’s still breathing hard, chest rising and falling beneath his leather jacket, but it’s not from the ride. It’s from you. From the way you’ve been teasing him all night, pressing too close, whispering filth in his ear through the helmet, running your hands over his thighs while he was going over a hundred miles an hour.

“You think that shit was funny?” His voice is low, dark, dangerous—the kind that makes you shiver. “Tryna get me to crash?”

You smirk, biting your lip as you lean back against the bike, feigning innocence. “Didn’t crash though, did you?”

His eyes darken, and suddenly he’s on you, all heat and power, pressing you against the still-warm metal. His gloved hand wraps around your throat, fingers firm but teasing, his breath hot against your lips.

“You got a real fuckin’ mouth on you,” he mutters, voice thick with restraint. “You like testing me, don’t you?”

The answer is obvious, but you don’t get a chance to say it—his lips crash into yours, raw and demanding, teeth scraping, tongue forcing its way inside like he owns it. He does own it. Owns you, if you’re being honest with yourself.

You moan against him, and he swallows the sound, pressing in harder, caging you in like you’re not going anywhere. His free hand yanks at your jacket, peeling it off with a rough tug, and it hits the pavement like it means nothing to him.

“Keep pushin’ me,” he breathes against your mouth. “See what happens.”

Your stomach flips at the promise in his voice, but you don’t even get the chance to push him further—he’s already losing patience. Already done pretending he has an ounce of self-control.

He spins you around, forcing your chest against the bike, the cold metal biting through your thin shirt. His hands waste no time—one pressing firm against your back, keeping you in place, the other yanking at your waistband.

“Simon—”

“You knew what you were doin’,” he growls. “Whole ride, grindin’ against me, actin’ all fuckin’ innocent—”

You gasp as he drags his hand between your thighs, teasing, barely giving you what you need.

“—like I wouldn’t pull over and ruin you.”

You whimper, arching back against him, but he doesn’t let up. His grip on you is iron, his breathing ragged as he keeps you pinned right where he wants you. He presses against you, lets you feel how hard he is, how much restraint it’s taking for him not to just take what he wants.

“You gonna beg for it?” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Or you gonna keep runnin’ that mouth?”

Your head is spinning, heart pounding, thighs clenching around nothing because fuck, you want him so bad it hurts.

“Please,” you whisper, barely more than a breath.

Ghost exhales sharply, a dark chuckle vibrating in his chest. “That’s more like it.”

He doesn’t make you wait any longer.

His hands are rough, demanding, yanking down your clothes just enough to give him access, fingers teasing through the slick mess he caused. His breath stutters against your neck when he feels how ready you are for him, and his fingers tighten against your hip.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Knew you liked it rough, slut.”

Then he’s pressing inside, slow at first just to make you feel it, just to let you adjust to the way he stretches you open. A strangled moan leaves your lips, fingers gripping the bike for balance, and he groans at the way you squeeze around him.

“So fuckin’ tight—” His voice is already breaking, but he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t slow down.

Ghost moves like he drives—fast, reckless, skilled. He fucks into you with deep, brutal strokes, pressing you down against the bike, making sure you take every inch. His hands grip your hips so hard you know you’ll bruise, but you don’t care. Not when it feels like this. Not when he’s making you see fucking stars.

“Keep makin’ those pretty lil’ noises, yeah?” he pants against your neck, voice wrecked. “Love hearin’ how fuckin’ desperate you are for me.”

You whine, and his hand slides back up your throat, tilting your chin so he can kiss you—messy, sloppy, needy.

“You take me so fuckin’ well,” he groans, thrusts growing erratic. “Like you were made for me.”

You are. You know you are.

The coil in your stomach tightens, pleasure mounting so fast it makes your head spin. He feels it—feels the way your body clenches around him, the way you’re barely holding on.

“C’mon, love,” he rasps. “Come for me. Be a good girl ‘f me.”

And fuck, you do. You fall apart around him, body shuddering, fingers gripping onto whatever you can as you break. He curses, voice rough, movements turning messy as he chases his own release.

Then—fuck. He buries himself deep, hips stuttering, a strangled groan leaving his lips as he comes undone.

The world slows. The air is thick with heat and the scent of sweat and sex. Ghost leans against you for a second, chest rising and falling, hands still gripping your waist like he’s afraid to let go.

Then he chuckles, low and breathless, lips brushing your ear.

“Still think you can handle the speed, dove?”

get his ass in jail for reckless driving smh.

[alwayzadorbs]

Lucifers Fantasies, 2

Second publishing of things that Lucifer would do in bed, or what he fantasizes about, including kinks and his opinion on certain acts.

rating: 18, SMUT (surprise at the end!)

Masturbation, isnt something he'd do very often. He hardly had time for carnal desires before you found him. He just doesn't seem like the type of demon to please himself a lot, being swamped with work he simply didn't have time to think about it. He found himself pent up with sexual aggression, which does not bode well for your ability to walk. Sometimes hed find his mind and his hands drifting off to other places, imagining you in your school uniform, taking it off slowly to reveal your body. And when he cums, he shoots ropes.

Lucifer found himself with a corruption kink, taking imense pleasure in taking somebodies virginity, or exposing them to some really sexual things. he likes to think about if he was your first time, he wondered if you even thought about things like sex or were you imagining getting fucked? the thoughts that gave him the biggest erection was you breaking under him, from pleasure. becoming a mess just from him, he loves that.

Marking you is his favorite thing to do, sucking on your neck to leave hickey after hickey, not just that though. Leaving bite marks on the inside of your thighs, scratches from his tightening grip when he cums in you. Demons have a heightened sense of smell, hearing and general ability, so its not surprising to hear that he loves to mark you with his scent, being nothing more than just his smell rubbing off on you during close quarters, the closer you've been the stronger the scent.

Something about breeding you makes Lucifers dick stand straight up, maybe its the image of you laying underneath him, panting, begging for more of his juices, or maybe its because he feels immense pride when his scent stinks to you like that. He cant help but smirk when his brothers glare at him, smelling him on you. Even if he cant actually get you pregnant, he still loves to cum inside you.

body worship is on Lucifers list of top kinks, He loves it when you get down on your knees to praise his cock, showering it with kisses and telling it how much you like it, but his interest doesn't stop there. He likes to worship your body as well, you're just as important to him and he believes you deserve the love and care. He'll spend hours worshipping your body, explaining why he loves each and every piece of you.

To his surprise, when you got injured and started crying a bit, it gave him a bit of a boner. The volnurability you exposed him too, the way your cheeks flushed with pink, your shaky voice. you didn't get seriously hurt, you only shed a few tears as the injury burned, you felt ok after a minute, but lucifer, Lucifer was not going to be ok. He imagined the face you just made being caused by him, not by pain, but from the sheer overstimulation and pleasure he wanted to inflict upon you. He would never seriously hurt you or anything, he just enjoys the idea of you shedding a tear from the sting of his spankings.

semi-clothed sex is one of the things Lucifer enjoys. It stirs something in him to see you half-clothed, bottomless in an oversized shirt, or only wearing a skirt and an open blouse. the appeal of only some of your intimate parts peeking out arouses him beyond control, He loves to see you in just underwear or just a single garment.

He would surprisingly enjoy semi-public sex, bending you over the student council board desk, groping you or fondling your private areas in class or pulling you aside for a heated make-out session in the janitor's closet.

he doesn't like it when you use toys, but can't deny the fact he gets excited when he thinks of you using one. One late night, when he was walking to the kitchen for a late-night snack, he stopped right outside your room. He always found himself stopping in front of your door at night, but this was different, he thought he heard a noise, a verberation through the wall that caught his attention. he stood there for a few moments, about to walk away he was stopped by the noise again, until he realized what was going on, behind that flimsy wooden door. You were touching yourself, and those were your moans. The moment he realized it, his dick sprung to life, immediately creating a tent inside his pants. He leaned forwards, hesitating before deciding, he peered through the slit between the door and the frame. Gaining a clear view to your bed he peeped on you, watching you touch yourself. it was so deviant, but he looked anyway, not being able to take his eyes off of you as you used a toy on yourself.

shower sex is something he enjoys thoroughly and frequently, dragging you into the bath or shower with him, washing your body for you and turning it into something else. Your phone buzzed, your ringtone chiming through your room.

"hello? Lucifer, whats up?" you rubbed your eyes, feeling a bit tired

"Come to my room, You said you wanted to join me the next time I bathed, didn't you?" he chuckled on the other end "hurry, or I'll change my mind." he said before he hung up the phone

blushing, you headed over to his room right away, not wanting to miss the opportunity to bathe with Lucifer. In the shower, He'd offer to wash you, and when you say yes, he uses his body wash instead of yours. He feels incredibly prideful when you get out of the shower smelling just like him, he'll invite you for a shower the next time you need one too.

Lucifer LOVES edging, he likes to see you break down from orgasm denial, begging him for release, pleading with him to let you cum. In this state, he knows that you'll do just about anything for him, which is part of the reason he loves it so much. He also likes to use it as punishment, taking pleasure in your whines and begs, telling you to apologize to him in the best ay you can.

SUPRIZE! Heres a gift, for you! I wonder whats he's doing under that desk :o Source: Deleted twitter user, I tried to find an uncensored version but I couldn't)

[concretejunglefm]

A part 2 to these thots.

Pairing: Biker dom!folio Puppy sub!noah.

CW: mentions of exhibitionism, voyeurism, cum play, masturbation.

NSFW'ish under the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

Noah isn’t shy by any means. He always finds excitement in the prospect of being watched, but finding someone, anyone willing to engage in that wasn’t always easy. 

A neighbor, in particular, posed a challenge.

The first time Noah noticed his neighbor across the street coming out for a smoke, he briefly watched him hiding down the side of his house to do so. However, he didn’t pay much attention to it until he noticed that the neighbor seemed to step out at the same time every evening.

From that moment on, Noah became intrigued about the possibility of having a new spectator. He decided to shower right before he knew his neighbor would be coming out for his nightly smoke, giving himself a fresh excuse to show off his tattoos and naked body in front of his open window.

Each time he dares to peek out of the window while exposing himself, there are various instances where he catches the man looking up at him or rubbing himself through his jeans. However, this time, a couple of weeks after the initial incident, he notices that the man has become even more brazen.

Instead of being pressed with his back against the wall, the man faces it, his hand flat against it for stability, while his other hand is wrapped around his cock, rapidly pumping it. Head down, he’s fully concentrating on watching himself. 

Noah takes it as a compliment, especially considering that he'd just finished working out. He had placed a freestanding pull-up bar just a little back from the window and ensured that his ass was clenched and perky with each rep, while showing himself off to the neighborhood, primarily to his new secret watcher.

With his secret admirer looking away from him, Noah seizes the opportunity to close his curtains, a habit he had developed whenever he achieved the desired outcome—making his admirer succumb to the urges he felt while watching Noah.

Unlike the usual nights when he would apparently cum in his pants, Noah peeks through the slight gap in the curtains, observing as he pumps himself and shoots thick ropes against the wall in front of him. 

Noah can’t control the whimper that escapes him, his fingers tightening around the fabric of his curtain, his cock twitching in response. He wishes it were him being coated with his admirers cum, yearning for nothing more than to have himself painted with it—his chest, his face, anywhere. All he knows is that he desperately needs his cum.

There are various things which Noah often fantasizes about, and while he would never act on them, this time he finds himself fully committing to an act he could've never imagined himself doing.

Once his neighbor returns indoors, Noah pulls on a pair of shorts and descends the stairs, slipping into his sneakers and exiting through the front door. For a moment, he glances around the houses, observing the quietness of the neighborhood at this late hour. The streetlights guide his path, and the house he begins walking towards is completely enveloped in darkness. Hopefully, no one will notice him.

Reaching the side of the house, his eyes scan the wall to it, searching for the exact spot where his admirer had came. When he finally sees the thick substance, he crouches down and tentatively reaches out his hand, stroking his long, slender tattooed fingers through the mess. It’s still warm, and at first, he rubs it between his middle finger, forefinger, and thumb. However, he soon reaches for more and brings it up to his face.

Noah’s heart races, and his cock twitches with arousal as he presses his cum-coated fingers to his cheek. The involuntary sound that escapes him is a soft, needy whimper, yearning to be the one receiving this over the wall. However, he takes his time, slowly running his fingers across his cheek, working them in a smooth motion down and around his lips. He deliberately avoids direct contact, teasing himself. He could easily slip his fingers into his mouth and clean them off, if he wanted, or even lick the wall like a starved dog in heat, desperate for something. But instead, he continues to indulge in this self-teasing, his hand palming his cock through his shorts. Suddenly, his depraved thoughts and actions are interrupted by the sound of a cat’s cry.

He’s swiftly reminded of his current circumstance; that he’s rubbing the cum belonging to a stranger over his face, which he had scooped off said stranger’s house wall, in his depravity.

Pulling himself up to his feet, he surveys his surroundings before hastily returning to his own house and slipping inside. Barely out of his shorts and lying on his bed, he brings the hand that had been used to play with the strangers’ cum to wrap around his cock, pumping it furiously. He lets out a loud groan, his hips jerking as he repeatedly cries out about what a slut he is and how much he craves his admirer—his watcher, whom he happily performs for every night. 

His rambling continues even as he feels the taut pull of his climax, his hand fisting his cock while begging for permission to cum until he finally experiences the wave of it wash over him with the final tug. His hips jerk and his body shakes against the bed as he buries his face against his pillow, using it to muffle the sounds he releases in his moment of ecstasy.

It takes a few moments for him to come down from the high and as he turns his head to rest back against the pillow, feels almost content. The warmth of his own release spreads over his stomach, hand, and chest, while dried remnants of his admirers’ cum still cling to his cheek and around his lips. The thought of it is enough to cause his sensitive cock to twitch in need.

In a slow, deliberate motion, he sweeps his thumb over the head, letting out a near-pained whimper as a jolt of pleasure ripples through him due to his heightened sensitivity. Noah knows that he should stop and clean himself up now, but he can’t resist the temptation to let himself go for another. 

[laurelwen]

Sorry, it's me again. There's this thing that has been...whispering in the back of mind since I read this post for the first time. Nigel wrote: "... I removed a rat's heart and pretended to be disgusted" Why on earth would he feel the necessity to PRETEND to be disgusted in front of Alex?

I've taken a minute to answer this because it's a very good question but difficult and complicated to answer within the context of the film. For those who aren't sure what you're referring to, please see this post transcribing Nigel's notes.

The short answer is: I don't think the people making the props were entirely consistent with the character as scripted. I think most likely they were given some general directives (such as "make sure it highlights the words "egocentric megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur") Outside those few directives, they just sort of let their poetic license run free, injecting their own ideas of a what a "fucked up weird guy who dissects animals" would say into the text, and creating a different version of Nigel than the movie presents us with. The worst example of that is the newspaper article in Alex's book--which doesn't make ANY sense in the context of the film. No one really expected crazy fans to obsessively pause the movie and use photo enhancing techniques frame by frame to determine what was written in his journals or the text of the article, so I think there was a lot of leeway and perhaps some laziness when it came to the props.

It's hard for me to come up with an IN character justification for Nigel to have written that, because it doesn't gel with my observations of him as presented in the film. The journal entry itself is written before he is kidnapped by Alex and the dynamic of their relationship shifts. This IS the entry that made Alex angry enough to kidnap him and teach him a lesson in the first place. This is the Nigel who barely responds to Alex's confrontational anger over the dissection in the dorm room, the Nigel who seems to be completely unmoved by or even very aware of how his actions might impact others. He doesn't care enough to even consider what effect he has on others, and even if/when he is aware, I sincerely doubt he'd bother to *pretend* anything. Nigel doesn't seem interested in pretending to be anything other than what he is, a defining trait that causes him a lot of problems.

Later in the movie, Nigel does shift a bit into a more puckish role. He fucks with Alex in a variety of ways, very noticeably in the train scene when they're going to visit his secret room. He's playful, mischievously antagonistic, poking and prodding Alex and seeming to enjoy his discomfort. This demeanor is more in line with the kind of guy who might write about deliberately messing with his roommate's head. But I still don't know why he would feign disgust in the middle of the dissection given that he's been dissecting animals regularly and Alex would have no reason to think he's grossed out by it.

I suppose if we apply that puckish attitude backward and say that Nigel was already trying to mess with Alex even before the kidnapping, we could sort of squint our eyes and imagine him being very over the top Fake Disgusted as he waves the heart around in Alex's direction. I still don't find that very likely, but it's the best I've got.

If you wanted to, you could use this as part of a theory that Nigel was the real instigator all along and had been intending/planning to manipulate Alex from the moment he was transferred to the school and forced to share a room. In such a reading of the film, all of his behavior could be seen as pretense in some way, including his initial lack of reaction to Alex--calculated to rile Alex up, put him off balance, etc.

I don't personally buy in to that interpretation, just as I don't buy into Alex being the sole instigator. I think either reading ascribes far too much power and control to these teenagers, however intelligent and manipulative they may be. But if you want to go that route, here's a supporting piece to add to your puzzle.

Thanks for the ask and I hope this rambling mess makes at least some sense!

EDIT: please read my reblog of this post. @silhioutte pointed out the very obvious mis-read of this line.

[Like Minds Masterpost - Main]

[atreyucannamos]

II: Collision Zone, Part 2

Soundtrack: Rob Westwood - Venom

"Lady Persephone Helsing's mech has been disabled, and she is out of the duel!"

No, no, no, NO! They'd been doing so well!

This was all Atreyu's fault. Flock elements drifted listlessly as they lost neurosynch. Assembler slumped on the ground where it lay - or scattered, perhaps. Somehow they'd managed to drag everyone down with them, as usual. Except...

With the connection to flock elements interrupted, images came in out of synch, disjointed - seeing an event, and then seeing it again half a second later, and then yet again another half-second later. Delamar's Tokugawa - Sorcerer of Death's Construction - popped every single one of its vents at once, steam and smoke billowing out in great, nauseous clouds. His torch flared so hot and so bright it whited out half of Atreyu's cameras - and he swung, overhead.

Disjointed, desynchronised, Atreyu watched sixteen separate times as the colossal silhouette of Praya's mech became two where once there was one, shorn unevenly shoulder-to-thigh. They cried out as their cousin's mech hit the floor in two unequal halves.

"Lord Praya-Cannamos' mech has been disabled, and she is out of the duel!"

Finally done with bullying Persephone, Argo-Laurent leapt into the fray, slamming Sorcerer to the ground and plunging his blade straight into one of the overheated vents, but once again Caelan's swords flashed.

"Count Argo-Laurent's mech has been disabled, and he is out of the duel!"

That left... Atreyu did the maths. One. One Dusk Wing. With the neurosynch spotty, they couldn't control most of their flock - but the Ghast Nexus was still deployed, and the link was still stable. It soundlessly hovered east, past the screaming and cursing mess of metal that had been Argo's mech, between the stricken halves of Praya's colossus, and past the oozing wreck that had been Persephone's kuirass (don't look at it - stay focused).

There was a Dusk Wing.

This time, Atreyu barely felt the pain of their flesh rupturing, their bones splitting, their nails becoming teeth.

There was not a Dusk Wing.

A loud horn sounded throughout the battlefield.

"With two minutes left on the clock, the company of plaintiffs Lord Praya-Cannamos and Count Argo-Laurent is depleted! The company of defendants Lord Atreyu-Cannamos, Lord Delamar-Leonasius, Lord Caelan-Frostfounder, Lady Tuera-Ashama and Lady Penelope Helsing holds the field! Victory to the defendants!"

They'd won. They'd won.

Tearing themselves free of the uplink cables and the straps of their pilot seat, Atreyu disgorged from their mech and began to sprint for the gargantuan ruin of Praya's mech. They were dimly aware of Caelan disembarking from their own cockpit with a first aid kit, rushing towards Penelope's wreck, but that didn't seem to matter. Even through their hardsuit, Atreyu could feel the intense heat still radiating from the glowing metal. Somehow, even though they knew their hardsuit was operating closed cycle, they swore they could smell the stink of burning fiberglass.

"Praya!" Atreyu half-yelled, half-screamed. Their hands scrabbled at an access panel, the skin of their fingers scorching even through the hardsuit gloves. "Praya! Are you alright?!"

The access panel bulged outwards with a thud loud enough to echo around the duelling fields. Atreyu leapt back with a yelp. There was a second, even louder thud and the panel was blown right off its hinges, flying at least a couple of dozen feet into the air. Like the Avatar of the Titan himself, a towering figure clambered out clad head to toe in shining golden metal.

The Cannamos battle regalia?! She was piloting this well in that clunky piece of shit?!

Praya took a step forward, and then another, until she was looming right over them. Beneath all the layers of metal and adamant-glass, it was impossible to see her expression. Atreyu swallowed hard. She raised a mailed hand, and Atreyu flinched, steeling themself for the blow - but she merely ran a finger roughly along the shoulder of their hardsuit, flicking some dust and soot away.

"Keep your suit clean, El-Ahrairah. Never know what you might track into your mech, otherwise."

Then, she turned and strode away towards Argo's mech.

Another figure was visible, walking impassively through the carnage - a figure wearing a ceremonial uniform decorated with a dozen medals. Atreyu recognised one as the Distinguished Service Emblem of the Khayradin Elites - this, then, must be Dean-Commander Doleros. She was applauding - slowly, but genuinely.

"Well fought - well fought indeed! Glory to the victors! As is demanded by tradition and mutual consent of both parties, the defeated party must offer their sincere apologies."

Argo had just been hauled from the wreckage of his kuirass by Praya, and had discarded his helmet in order to breathe. Upon hearing the Dean's words, his face twisted into a grimace, his lip curling upwards to far it almost touched his nose. His eyelid twitched violently. Beneath their helmet's respirator, Atreyu couldn't help but crack a smile.

"I..." Argo growled, sucking in loud breaths through clenched teeth, "... apologise for my... imprudent choice of words, and for any... offence... that might... have been taken to them."

Delamar, who was still in his mech, answered through the speakers, their malicious delight palpable in the air. "Oh, cousin - apology accepted. I'm sure that in future you will choose your words with due care and consideration."

Argo looked like he might burst a blood vessel on the spot.

Praya, meanwhile, removed her helmet and shook her hair a little. Without any sneering, without any anger, she bowed - to Atreyu in particular.

"I apologise," she declared, "for my harsh and unwarranted words. I wholeheartedly retract them, and you may consider this matter of honour settled in your favour. I promise that from now on, I shall act only as befits the demands of our House."

Atreyu's heart sank. Even in defeat, she was clever. They could feel the implication hidden in the words "as befits the demands of our House." So Atreyu didn't want this to be so personal? Alright, it wasn't personal. Now, it would be her acting out of duty.

They had to claw this back. They couldn't let all of this be for nothing. Tamping down their feelings, Atreyu pulled their helmet off and bowed low.

"I accept your apology in the spirit that it was given, Lord Praya. With this duel resolved, I hold all matters of honour that separated us annulled. With the Dean as our witness, it is my fervent hope that a reconciliation may be reached between us."

Praya's eyes narrowed, and the corner of her mouth twisted upwards in a half-smirk - but Atreyu knew that look. It wasn't contempt. They'd last seen that expression a decade ago, during a very heated game of kapkat. Without words, Praya was saying exactly the same thing now that she had back then:

Hah! Clever move, El-Ahrairah.

[reveriebae]

Meddle about

pairing(s) : Kang Yeosang x reader

word count : 5028

summary : A storm traps you and Yeosang, your neighbor, together, turning unspoken tension into something reckless and uncontrollable. One impulsive night changes everything—but is it just a fleeting mistake or the start of something dangerous?

genre : smut

warning(s) : explicit sexual content, rough encounters, possessiveness, tension-filled dynamics, and themes of recklessness. It also includes elements of emotional push-and-pull, power struggles, and impulsive decisions that blur the lines between desire and control

part of Songfic

Minors do not interact, 21+ only!!

🪐 smut under the cut 🪐

The first time you met Yeosang, it was at the worst possible moment.

You had just come home from a long, miserable day, your hair a mess, your patience running thin, and your only goal was to throw yourself onto your bed and disappear into oblivion. Instead, you ended up standing outside your apartment door, patting down your pockets, cursing under your breath when you realized—your keys were nowhere to be found.

"Fucking perfect," you muttered, pressing your forehead against the door in frustration.

And that’s when you heard the amused chuckle.

"Locked out?"

You turned to see him—your neighbor. The one you'd noticed in passing but never spoken to. Kang Yeosang, the quiet guy in 4B. The one with sharp eyes and an unreadable expression, always dressed in black, always carrying himself with a sense of casual detachment. But up close? He was something else entirely.

A little too pretty, honestly. Annoyingly pretty.

He leaned against his own doorway, arms crossed, gaze dragging over you in a way that made your skin prickle. His voice was smooth, deep, and laced with just a hint of amusement—like he already found your misfortune entertaining.

You exhaled sharply. "Yeah. And unless you have a spare key, this conversation is pointless."

He raised an eyebrow. "No need to be hostile, sweetheart."

Sweetheart.

The word dripped from his lips too easily, like he was testing how it sounded on you. Your stomach twisted—not in irritation, but something more dangerous.

Yeosang smirked, as if he noticed. "Need help or you planning to glare at your door all night?"

You didn’t need his help. You didn’t need anything from him. But there was something about the way he spoke, the slow, deliberate way his eyes lingered on you, that made you pause.

"Depends," you said. "What are you offering?"

His smirk deepened. "That depends on what you're asking for."

And just like that, the game began.

You folded your arms, trying to keep the edge out of your voice. “I don’t know, maybe you could help me get inside before I freeze to death?”

Yeosang didn’t move at first, his eyes glinting with a teasing challenge. He knew what you were really asking, but he was enjoying making you say it, enjoying the power he held over the situation.

“Right,” he said after a beat, his smirk still present. “Well, I’m not about to let you stand out here all night. But…” He paused for effect, then added casually, “I could let you in, but you’ll owe me a favor.” His tone was smooth, not quite playful but not too serious either. It was the kind of voice that made you wonder what he was really thinking.

A favor? You weren’t sure if that was a good idea. But then again, what else were you going to do? Stand out here like an idiot until the building manager came by to let you in? You weren’t about to let your pride win this battle, not tonight.

“What kind of favor?” you asked, narrowing your eyes slightly.

His smirk softened, but only just. “Nothing too serious. I promise.” His voice dropped an octave, growing low and deliberate. “I just want you to remember this moment. The next time you need help, you come to me first.”

The way he said it—slow, almost like a command—set your heart pounding. You hated how he made you feel, like you had no control, but at the same time, something inside you craved that loss of control. Something dark. Something dangerous.

"Fine," you said, your voice tighter than you intended. "Open the door."

Yeosang chuckled, the sound rich and low. Without another word, he turned and unlocked his apartment door. When he opened it, you couldn’t help but notice the brief flash of something dangerous behind his eyes. The way he watched you, like a predator sizing up its prey.

You shook your head, trying to shake off the feeling that was creeping up your spine. "You really know how to make an entrance," you muttered, stepping inside.

"Did I?" He closed the door behind you, and the air between you thickened. “It’s nothing, really. Just a little help from a neighbor.”

You turned around to face him, irritation bubbling to the surface again. “I don’t need you to help me. I can handle things myself, you know.”

"Is that so?" He took a step toward you, his eyes never leaving yours. His gaze felt almost suffocating, like he was reading you in a way you couldn’t understand. "You sure about that?"

Before you could respond, he was right in front of you, his hand brushing past yours as he reached for the doorknob. His touch sent a strange shiver through your body. You hated how much you noticed it. How much you wanted it.

“I’m not trying to make things weird,” he said softly, voice now dangerously quiet. “But I can’t help but notice you seem… tense.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Was he reading you so easily? Was he just messing with you, or was there something more in his tone, something deeper?

You swallowed hard. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” he replied, his voice gentle but firm. “I can see it, and it’s okay to admit it. You don’t have to do everything by yourself.”

You felt a wave of frustration rise in your chest, but you also felt an undeniable pull toward him. You didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to give in to whatever this was, but his proximity was too much. The way his eyes searched yours, the way his body was so close to yours, was enough to make your breath hitch.

“Let me help you,” he said again, his hand moving to the small of your back, just barely touching your skin.

His touch was light, but it sent a bolt of heat straight through you. For a moment, you wondered if this was all just some game to him. But when you met his eyes again, you saw something different—something darker. Something that told you he wasn’t playing. Not anymore.

You couldn’t pull away. Not this time.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked, your voice quieter now, even though every nerve in your body was screaming at you to step back.

“You’re asking me for help, aren’t you?” he murmured, leaning just slightly closer. “You’re so tense. And I have a feeling… I could do something about that.”

His lips hovered dangerously close to your ear. You could feel the heat of his breath against your skin, making your heart race even faster. You couldn’t help the way your body reacted—how your breath hitched when his hand slid lower on your back, pressing into you just enough to make you shiver.

He was so close now that you could feel his chest rising and falling with every breath. You wanted to pull away. You knew you should, but you didn’t. You couldn’t.

Instead, you tilted your head, your lips brushing against his ear. “And what exactly do you plan on doing?”

A low, almost predatory chuckle rumbled in his chest. “I think you already know.”

His words hung in the air between you like a challenge, and your body responded before your mind could even catch up. There was no escaping the pull, no way to ignore the ache that had built up since the moment you stepped into his apartment. His closeness was overwhelming, suffocating, but it felt so damn good.

Yeosang’s hand slid lower, grazing the curve of your waist, his touch deliberate, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you. You tried to maintain some semblance of control, to hold onto that fragile piece of your pride, but every inch of his body against yours shattered that resolve.

“I know you want this,” he murmured, his voice smooth and low, like velvet brushing against your skin. His breath was hot, his lips tantalizingly close to your neck. “You can’t lie to me, not now.”

You swallowed, your throat dry. You tried to steady your breath, but his presence, his touch, made it impossible. “You’re crazy,” you whispered, but the words didn’t have the bite you intended. Instead, they came out like a confession, soft and eager.

His smirk deepened, the heat in his gaze intensifying. “Crazy? Maybe. But you can’t deny what’s happening between us. It’s undeniable.”

Before you could respond, his lips crashed against yours, demanding, desperate, a sharp contrast to the playful taunt from moments ago. The kiss was bruising, full of hunger, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with a force that left you breathless. You didn’t resist, couldn’t resist, as you found yourself responding with equal fervor.

His hands roamed, moving to the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer. Every inch of his body was pressed against yours, his chest rising and falling against your own, and the heat between you felt unbearable.

When he finally broke the kiss, you gasped for air, your heart pounding in your chest. Your skin felt alive, every nerve on fire, and Yeosang was the only one who could make it stop... or make it burn even more.

“You’re mine now,” he whispered, his breath ragged. There was no question in his voice, only command, and it made your knees weak. His hand trailed down to your waist again, slipping underneath your shirt to touch the bare skin of your stomach.

“Yeosang, stop—” You tried to protest, but it came out weaker than you intended.

His eyes darkened, a flicker of something dangerous flashing across his face. He stepped back for a moment, eyes sweeping over you like he was drinking in every inch of you. “I told you before,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You’re asking for this. You can’t pretend like you don’t want it.”

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, but you couldn’t deny the truth of his words. Your body was betraying you, every part of you aching for his touch, for the release he promised.

“I didn’t come here to play games,” he continued, his hand reaching down to tug at your waistband, pulling it lower just enough to expose the smooth curve of your hip. “But I’ll make you beg for it if that’s what it takes.”

You shuddered at the thought, at the way his words sent shockwaves through your body, making your blood run hot. You had no control over what was happening anymore. Yeosang was in control, and for some reason, that was exactly what you wanted.

His hands moved with practiced ease, peeling off the layers of clothing between you. Every touch felt like fire, like an electric current coursing through your veins. And when his lips found the sensitive spot just behind your ear, you couldn’t help the moan that slipped from your lips.

“You’re perfect,” Yeosang muttered, his voice thick with desire. His hands worked quickly, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it aside carelessly. He took a step back, eyes roaming over your bare skin with a hunger that made you feel exposed and wanted all at once. “So damn perfect.”

You felt exposed, but not in a bad way. His gaze was molten, his fingers trembling as they traced the edge of your bra, teasing and pulling at the fabric until it was gone. You stood there, bare, vulnerable, and yet all you could focus on was how much you wanted him. How much you needed him.

Yeosang’s lips descended to your neck, his teeth grazing against your skin, pulling a breathless gasp from you. His hands slid down to your hips, fingertips digging into the soft flesh as he guided you toward the couch.

“Sit,” he commanded, his voice rough with lust. You obeyed without question, too far gone to think straight anymore.

He stood over you for a moment, just looking at you, his gaze dark and possessive. You could see the hunger in his eyes, the way his body was taut with desire. You were the only thing on his mind now, and he wasn’t going to let you forget it.

Yeosang wasted no time. He was all business now, his hands gripping your thighs as he spread them apart, his mouth crashing against yours again. His kiss was desperate, hungry, as though he needed you just as badly as you needed him.

“Don’t fight it,” he breathed against your lips, his hands moving to your hips, pulling you closer to the edge of the couch. His voice was low, rough. “Just give in.”

And you did. You let him take control, let him guide you into a frenzy, until you were both lost in each other.

You were already so far gone, and Yeosang knew it. The way you were squirming underneath him, the way your body was reacting to his every touch—it was like he had you wrapped around his finger. And honestly? He was loving it.

He smirked against your lips as he pulled away, watching you chase after the kiss like a desperate little thing. His hands trailed down to your chest, fingers brushing lightly over your nipple, and you couldn’t hold back the sharp intake of breath. The way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing that mattered—was messing with your head in the best way possible.

“Not so shy now, huh?” he teased, his voice dropping lower. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re gonna be begging for me soon, baby.”

You shivered at the thought, feeling the heat between your legs intensify. Every inch of your body was on fire, your mind foggy with desire. You needed him, wanted him, and you weren’t even sure where you ended and he began anymore.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice a little shaky. “I need you.”

Yeosang grinned, a wicked glint in his eyes. He gave you a knowing look, his fingers sliding lower, brushing against the waistband of your pants. He pulled at it with ease, tugging them off like it was nothing, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. You could feel the cool air on your exposed skin, but it didn’t matter. The heat of his touch was more than enough to keep you warm.

You felt so exposed, so vulnerable, but you didn’t care. Not when he was looking at you like that. Not when his hands were moving with purpose, stripping you down, and making you feel things you didn’t know you could feel.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Yeosang murmured, his lips trailing down your neck, kissing and sucking at the soft skin there. You tilted your head back, exposing more of your neck to him, and he took full advantage, his hands roaming freely, exploring every inch of your skin.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes locking with yours, and you couldn’t help but feel that tension rising again. He was about to break you, and you were more than ready for it.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” Yeosang said, his voice low and rough, sending a jolt of desire straight to your core. “Say it, and I’ll give it to you.”

You bit your lip, holding back a moan. His words were like a command, and you didn’t hesitate. “I want you... now. Please.”

Yeosang chuckled, but it was dark, dangerous, the kind of laugh that sent a thrill through your body. “Good girl,” he said, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them apart, his mouth finding the sensitive spot on your neck again.

You gasped at the sensation, your body arching up instinctively, craving more of him. Yeosang’s hands slid under you, lifting you up slightly, and you could feel the bulge in his pants pressing against you, hot and needy. He didn’t waste any time; he was done playing.

In one swift motion, he was pulling down his pants, exposing his hard length. You felt your breath catch in your throat at the sight of him—so thick, so fucking perfect. He was everything you wanted, and now you were about to have him.

“Ready for me, baby?” Yeosang asked, his voice dripping with need, his hands gripping your hips and positioning you just right.

You nodded, barely able to form words, your body trembling with anticipation. And then, he was inside you, stretching you in ways you couldn’t describe. Your back arched off the couch, a gasp escaping your lips as he filled you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn’t do anything but take it, letting him guide you as you adjusted to the intensity of him.

“Fuck,” you moaned, your fingers gripping his shoulders as he started to move, slowly at first, testing the waters. But the moment he saw your face, saw the way you were already losing control, he didn’t hold back anymore. He snapped his hips against yours, the sound of skin on skin filling the room.

“You like that?” Yeosang groaned, his hands gripping your waist so hard you could feel the bruises forming already. “Tell me you like it.”

“I like it,” you gasped, your body rocking against him, desperate for more. The words barely left your lips before he was thrusting harder, deeper, his movements frantic as he fucked you like he couldn’t get enough.

He leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You’re mine now, baby. All mine.”

You moaned at the possessiveness in his voice, the way he claimed you with every thrust, with every touch. Your nails dug into his back as you held onto him, letting the pleasure consume you.

“Faster,” you begged, your voice shaking. “Please, Yeosang, harder.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement. He pounded into you, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, until you could barely think. Your head was spinning, your whole world was just him—his touch, his voice, his body.

“Cum for me, baby,” he growled, his hand sliding between your bodies to rub your clit, the pressure pushing you over the edge.

You screamed his name, your body spasming as the orgasm hit you like a tidal wave. Yeosang didn’t stop, didn’t slow down, as he chased his own release. The sound of his name leaving your lips was all he needed to finish, and with one final thrust, he came inside you, his body shuddering with the force of his climax.

He collapsed on top of you, both of you panting, trying to catch your breath. His face buried in the crook of your neck, his lips brushing your skin as he whispered, “You’re perfect.”

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction, even as your body still hummed with pleasure. For once, it didn’t feel like just another hookup. It felt... different.

Yeosang pulled away just enough to look at you, his eyes softening as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “You good?” he asked, his voice gentle now, the roughness replaced by something almost caring.

You nodded, still catching your breath, and for a moment, it was just the two of you, lying there, tangled together.

But you knew this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Yeosang wasn’t ready to let go, and neither were you. Even as your breath slowed and the lingering warmth of your orgasm still pulsed between your legs, his hands began to move again, slowly caressing the side of your hip, trailing upward to the curve of your waist.

“You’re not getting away that easy,” he muttered, his lips finding their way to your ear again, nibbling lightly on the soft lobe. The playful bite made your body stir once more, your pulse picking up.

You shivered, trying to push the lingering ache of your climax aside as his fingers moved lower, slipping between your thighs once again. His touch was soft, but you knew it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

“Yeosang, I—I can’t…” you breathed, half a laugh escaping your lips. Your body was still sensitive, already feeling overstimulated from the first round.

But he wasn’t listening. Instead, he grinned darkly, his lips now on your throat, kissing and sucking gently. “You can, baby. I know you can.”

He placed his hand on your inner thigh, spreading your legs just a bit further, as if you needed to be reminded that you weren’t in control anymore. Your body tingled at the realization—he was pushing you to go beyond what you thought you could handle.

His voice lowered, each word dripping with desire. “I’m not letting you rest yet.”

The moment his fingers brushed against your core, you moaned in surprise, the sensitivity making your back arch off the couch, a reflex you couldn’t stop. You tried to hold yourself together, but when Yeosang's fingers began to circle your clit with slow precision, the tight knot of pleasure started to coil up inside you again.

“Do you feel that?” Yeosang whispered, his breath hot against your ear, his fingers still working you slowly, agonizingly so. “How wet you are for me?”

You couldn’t answer, too lost in the sensation, but the way your body responded was enough. He smirked, clearly pleased with the reaction he was getting from you, and you were helpless to stop him.

“You’re all mine,” he repeated, voice thick with authority. “Say it.”

You could feel yourself slipping again, the fire in your belly rekindling as you couldn’t seem to get enough of the heat he was making you feel. “I’m yours, Yeosang,” you whimpered, every part of you aching for him to take control once more.

He responded with a dark chuckle. “Good girl.”

Before you could process what was happening, he pulled his hand away, leaving you breathless and empty. “Get up,” he instructed, his voice cutting through the haze of your desire.

You looked at him, hazy-eyed and needy, but obeyed, propping yourself up with shaky arms as you tried to sit up. He guided you to your feet, both of you unsteady for a moment before he pulled you closer. There was something in his eyes now—something more possessive, more intense than before.

“Turn around,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. You did as he said, positioning yourself with your back to him, your legs slightly apart. You could feel the heat radiating off of him as he came closer, his chest pressing against your back, his hands gliding down to your hips.

He moved behind you, slipping a hand around your throat, his fingers just tight enough to make you feel the pressure, just enough to remind you of who was in charge. He didn’t need to say a word to get the message across. His grip was firm, and you could feel your body react instantly—your mind hazy with the dominance he exerted over you.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he whispered, his lips grazing your ear. His hand moved lower, skimming across your stomach, then down, until he was between your legs once again. The sudden contact had you gasping, your hands gripping the edge of the couch to steady yourself.

“Tell me you want this,” he demanded, his fingers teasing at your entrance but never quite giving you what you needed. The anticipation was maddening.

“I want you,” you breathed, your voice trembling with need. “I want all of you.”

Yeosang grinned, satisfied with your answer, and within seconds, he had you backed up against him, pressing into you from behind. His hands gripped your hips tightly as he thrust into you with force, making you gasp at the sudden fullness.

You rocked against him, feeling him stretch you again, the delicious burn making your head spin. The pace was fast, raw, and relentless—every thrust hitting deep, making you clench around him. His hand remained on your throat, but now it was guiding you, pulling you back into him with each powerful movement.

“You’re mine,” Yeosang repeated, his voice rougher now, strained from the effort. “Mine to use. Mine to ruin.”

Your body was already so close again, and his words were just the spark that pushed you over the edge. You could barely form a coherent thought before he had you cumming, your body shuddering as the pleasure ripped through you. But Yeosang wasn’t done yet. Not even close.

He kept going, his rhythm never faltering, and as the aftershocks of your orgasm still rippled through your body, you could feel him get faster, harder, his own release building.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Yeosang growled, his grip on your hips tightening as he used you, his body slamming against yours relentlessly. “I’m gonna fill you up, baby.”

You couldn’t even think as his pace became erratic, each thrust making you tremble, your body completely at his mercy. With one last growl, he came, his hot release filling you as he held you close, still pressing against you as he finished.

For a moment, all that was left was the sound of both your heavy breaths, your bodies still connected, and the weight of everything that had just happened. Yeosang slowly pulled away, his hand brushing over your hair as he leaned down to kiss the back of your neck.

“God, you’re fucking perfect,” he whispered, his voice soft, but his hands still possessive as they roamed over your skin. “Don’t forget that.”

You couldn’t speak, still processing everything that had just happened. All you could do was lean into his touch, letting it settle in.

And as he held you there, you realized just how complicated things were getting.

The air between you two was thick, like the aftermath of a storm, and you both stood there, still catching your breath. Yeosang’s hands, now gentle, traced patterns on your back, as though trying to soothe the tension that had been building up for hours. But even as his touch softened, you could still feel the weight of everything that had just happened.

You had always known there was something electric between you two, but now—now it was undeniable. He wasn’t just your neighbor anymore, and you weren’t just a curious stranger to him. Things were different, and maybe that scared you, maybe it thrilled you.

The silence was thick, but it was comfortable. You didn’t move away from him. You didn’t want to.

But just as you thought the moment might pass, he spoke, his voice a little softer than before.

“I hope you know,” he began, his hand sliding down to your lower back, pulling you just a little closer, “I’m not gonna forget this. And I don’t think you will, either.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the truth of his words settle deep in your chest. “I won’t,” you whispered back. “I won’t forget you.”

His lips curled into a satisfied smile as his hand moved up to cup your cheek, brushing his thumb across your skin. “Good. Because I’m not letting you forget me. Not now, not ever.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a slight smirk despite the exhaustion that still lingered in your body. “What makes you think I would want to forget?”

Yeosang’s grin deepened, his hand slipping around your waist, pulling you against him again, his body warm against yours. “I think you know exactly why,” he teased, his voice dripping with that familiar, irresistible confidence. “But don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

You took in a deep breath, the reality of everything slowly creeping in. The weight of your emotions, the lingering tension, it all mixed into something more than just physical. It felt like you were both standing on the edge of something, something neither of you could fully explain but both knew was there.

“I’m serious, though,” he murmured, his fingers brushing your hair out of your face, his eyes softening. “This isn’t just a one-time thing, okay? I’m not the type to let go of what I want. And I’ve made it clear that I want you.”

His words hung in the air, and for a brief moment, you found yourself at a loss. He wanted more. That was clear. And maybe, just maybe, you were starting to realize that you wanted the same thing.

“I know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “And maybe… maybe I don’t want you to let go.”

Yeosang’s eyes widened for a split second, and you could see the flicker of something unspoken in his gaze. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, breathing in the same air as you.

“This thing between us,” he said quietly, his voice steady but laced with a hint of vulnerability, “It’s not just a fling, right?”

You closed your eyes, your heart racing. “No,” you whispered, shaking your head slowly. “It’s not.”

Yeosang paused for a moment, as if processing your words, before his lips found yours again. The kiss was soft, tender—different from before—but still just as intense. And as you kissed him back, you realized that things had changed. Maybe it wasn’t just a neighborly connection anymore. It was something deeper, something neither of you could ignore.

But even in the midst of that kiss, you both knew this was just the beginning. What you had was far from over.

And you were both just starting to figure out what would come next.

[jeremy-king]

Two King brothers sat across the table from one another in a conference room. The remaining members of the board were gathering their things, leaving one by one. The meeting had ended, but Jeremy and Jamie remained as they usually did, ready to discuss next moves. 

Thinking about you… 

Jeremy had picked up his phone, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he read a text from Blaire. 

“The girlfriend, I assume?” Jamie asked as he shuffled through some papers. 

Jeremy’s mouth pressed into a thin line, glancing over at his brother, then back at the phone. Jamie was going through a divorce and seemed to always be on edge these days. After finishing typing out reply and hitting send, he replied, “Yeah, telling her we’re almost finished,” then gently set his phone back down on the table. 

Jamie nodded in return, staying occupied between reviewing the meeting minutes and his laptop. Jeremy clicked his tongue and settled back into his chair, waiting… Then waited some more. His older brother, completely unbothered, continued to keep busy. Jeremy cleared his throat and sat forward. “So I think we’ve secured enough votes to remove Simon from the board,” He commented casually, knowing Jamie wanted to discuss their current goal for the board. 

“We can talk about that later—you placed Blaire into your internship program within the company, correct? Among the other attorneys?” Jamie didn’t bother looking over as he spoke to Jeremy. 

Jeremy’s eyes slightly narrowed. A moment of silence passed. He watched his brother carefully, and matched his responses with the same amount of care. “Yes. I did. She had her first day a couple days ago.” Another pause, then Jeremy added, “It was a move I made before we were together. Months ago.” 

“Good,” Jamie replied simply as he typed up an email. “If you two stay together, we’ll hire her once she completes school,” was added almost as a casual afterthought. 

“Hire her?” Jeremy’s brows furrowed slightly, but he took in a small breath and smoothed them out. “She doesn’t even know if she wants to be in corporate law—“ 

“We’ll offer her a salary she can’t refuse then,” Jamie said in a nonchalant tone, though his jaw flexed a bit at the end, clearly growing annoyed that Jeremy kept prodding. 

A moment of silence passed. That’s when Jeremy noticed the grip he had on the chair. His knuckles had gone white. After flexing his hands, Jeremy finally replied as he let out a breath, “Why are you trying to control this?” 

Jamie didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he finished the email he’d been typing, hit send, then relaxed into the armchair — finally settling his full attention on Jeremy. 

“You say control, I say protect,” was all he replied, then shrugged. 

When Jeremy didn’t reply, Jamie continued. “You know, it’s frustrating you always think the worst of me when all I’ve done is help you clean up your messes.”

Jeremy’s jaw was stone. Jamie shook his head as he began to gather his things. “We’re on the same team, Jeremy,” He muttered under his breath. 

Jeremy glanced down, partly ashamed he’d thought the worst of his brother yet again. Glancing back over, Jeremy gave an apologetic shrug of his shoulders and said, “She has potential — dreams. She’s brilliant, Jamie. If she wants to be in corporate law, sure, that’s fine, but if she doesn’t—“ 

“I know,” Jamie replied, looking back over at his brother as he stood from the table. “But it’s my job to protect this family.”

“And yours too, Jeremy.” 

Jeremy gave a single understanding nod, then stood and collected his things. 

[abductedhiko]

Blood

Based off of one of @junkiepunkie’s posts

My first rose killer work ✌️✌️

Tags: @oh-phoenixx @invasiveroadkill @sunshinewhosketches @butyoureastarr @im-a-mess-of-a-person @printershorts

TW for violence and n@zis (violence HAPPENING to the n@zi dw)

He tasted the unmistakable warm, metallic, tang of blood on his gums.

Barty ran his tongue over his teeth, tasting it. That flavor, the pain, felt like electricity zapping in his veins. The thrill of the fight was one Barty chased often. He longed for that familiar ache in his jaw, just to remind him he was real. Often he found it in small local bars and pubs after getting too drunk to think straight.

The man, a skinhead, had tried to punch him hard in the face, But Barty was quicker. The heavy drugs he had an appetite for had worn him down and made him skinny, but his senses were heightened with adrenaline.

He quickly ducked, before slamming his fist into the man’s chin. He stumbled back from the blow and fell on his arse, slurring curses. Barty relished in the way his knuckles stung from the impact.

“Yeah? You like that you son of a bitch?” Barty asked him manically. He crept toward him, step by step.

“You’re fucking insane.” The man spat.

“I get that a lot.” Barty smirked, he quickly grabbed a beer bottle laying empty on its side and slammed it to the ground by the neck. He lazily held the jagged piece to him.

He bent over the man, a dangerous gleam in his eye. “Hmm? That’s a cute symbol on your arm… would be a real shame if you couldn’t see it anymore…”

The man didn’t get a moment to flinch before Barty slashed at the Swastika in his arm. The skinhead screamed in pain, and Barty let out a little giggle.

“Look at you, squealing like a little girl. Not so tough anymore, huh?

Oh did Barty feel high. The adrenaline pulsed through his veins, and for once he felt alive. He felt in control. And it felt so, so good to have control without it being given or bought with daddy’s money.

Barty crouched, putting his face dangerously close to the skinhead, savoring that look of utter hate and fear that shone defiantly in his eyes.

“Go to hell.” The man snarled, before bringing up his fist and punching Barty in the nose. Hard.

The crunch of his bones were loud, but the pain was unbearable. Barty flung his head back as his back hit the ground with stars in his vision.

He hardly registered the soft squeaking of the man’s boots as he quickly scampered off.

#

Barty must have laid there for what felt like hours.

He was in a daze, a strange limbo between reality and sleep. He didn’t feel like getting up, his limbs were filled with rocks, and hardly felt up to trying to say something, for his mouth was made of cotton.

And so he laid. He laid for a good long while, in a daze.

Until it began to rain.

He hadn’t noticed it at first, the first little droplets were too small to feel, but they eventually grew. And came down harder. Harder and harder and harder. Until the sky was pounding down on him and he felt like sinking into the ground.

In a way, the rain was a comfort. Tough love. Wiping away the blood that streamed down his face and kissing the bruises that began to bloom along his cheeks.

I’m pathetic, aren’t I? He mused, but his thoughts were barely even thoughts.

In his head, only static and the thundering of rain remained.

#

Barty must have fallen asleep at one point, before he was woken up by yellow car headlights shining into his face.

“Bee..?” A voice called hesitantly. Familiar.

“Rosebud…” He called back as pushed himself to stand. He was so, so tired. Chill seeped into his bones, and hunger was a steady presence in his belly.

And just then, a body came crashing into him. Barty smelled vanilla and honey as he buried his face Evan’s neck.

“You asshole. Where have you been? I was up driving around these dodgy pubs to find you and here you are, soaked and bloody and bruised!”

Barty gaped, moving his mouth soundlessly. His voice as hoarse and hollow when it finally came out. “You care?”

“Of course I care!” Evan said incredulously. "What kind of question is that?!"

“Why? For someone like me?” Barty breathed. Those words sent a flutter of relief in his chest. He hadn’t realized it then, but something cold and rotten had melted within him. “Of all people you pick the drugged up, filthy yob.”

Evan pulled back, looking at him pointedly. “Don’t make me rethink my choices. Listen, believe it or not, you’re a good guy. Even if you make some bad choices that worry me and hurt you. I know you, and you’re a good guy deep down."

Barty was speechless, looking at Evan and utterly gaping at him in shock.

“Now get your sorry arse in the car, I’m taking you to the hospital for that nose.”

[theoneandonlysemla]

Today, Sujamma wants to know about your OC's moral compass. What God do they worship and why? Do they engage in any illicit activities (drugs, etc?) Any holy activities, like healing in the name of a certain divine? Have they committed any crimes, or are there any crimes they actively despise? Feel free to talk about anything and everything along these lines.

Tagged by @sanza-17, @lillxart and @skyrim-forever

Tagging: @friend-of-giants @sheirukitriesfandom @hircines-hunter @dirty-bosmer

I'm late because of a stressfull weekend, but hey, better late than never! I choose Nevri and Canmal for this! Morotar would be interesting too, but that mer needs a break from my attention :P

First, Nevri:

Nevri's moral compass is uhhh kinda broken I guess. At heart she really is a good person, even if she thinks the exact opposite of herself. But her moral are a little... foggy. And they bend to what fits best in the situation sometimes. As a former champion of Boethiah she has worshipped Boethiah in the most cruel form, by bloodsport in the fighting pits of the sacellum. It was her home for five years and she had accepted the daily killing as her new normal. Before she got there, she was never really worshipping gods or deadra. But fun fact: As she grew up in Windhelm, she adresses the gods as the Nine. Mostly in curses tho. Drugs, apart from the occasional alcohol consumption were never her thing. In part 2 of DwD she came into contact with other drugs, but more as an aid for sleeping (Teldryn gave her those). Funny thing is, that even after the entire shitshow of part 1, she still worships Boethiah and sees her as the one who saved her life. So she still sometimes prays to her. Crimes tho... Is it murder if you're in a cult whose entire thing is murder? I guess. So murder is a crime she committed :P Also by now three attacks on Thalmor soldiers: one biting of a finger tip, one stab in the liver and a headbutt to the nose. Otherwise... how legal are those cult activities? Not easy to say :P Oh and thievery as a useful tool for her. She has done a fair share of it, being quite the good sneaker. She despises any crimes agains her friends (obviously) and she is also a very big hater of anything that is around sexual assault. In fact, she has killed a man for it. So... Can you despise it any more? And now Canmal! Canmal too has never really been a man of faith, watching as he grew up what faith let people do in Windhelm. When he got closer with his fiancé Jirocian, he got into his worship of Mara a bit. But not as much as Jirocian does, it's just some little habits that he builds. He wants nothing to do with the Daedra, especially after that entire thing he had watched Nevri go through. Canmal is my sheltered baby and does only drink an occasional mead or two, maybe some booze when it's "necessary". He does not like being drunk, it mostly makes him dizzy and he hates the feeling of being intoxicated and not being able to control his body anymore. Crimes are another thing. Before he set out with Nevri to clean up her mess, he had a business running in which he sold totally lega aquired Dwemer artefacts. (Tomb raiding and grave robbing, that's what he did.) With his talent of bending the truth and being very charming while doing it, he got a good wage from it! As long as you don't hurt anyone he tends to overlook other illegal activities.

[daeley]

[namazunomegami]

Lord of the Flies, Gluttonous Queen, Prince of Filth, Prince of Decay, Goddess of Ekron, Lord of Slander, Queen of Pestilence and Famine, The Rotting One

I Solomon said unto him: “Beelzeboul what is thy employment?” And (s)he answered me: “I destroy kings. I ally myself with foreign tyrants. And my own demons I set on to men, in order that the latter may believe in them and be lost. And the chosen servants of God, priests, and faithful men, I excite unto desires for wicked sins, and evil heresies, and lawless deeds; and they obey me, and I bear them on to destruction. And I inspire men with envy, and desire for murder, and for wars, and sodomy, and other evil things. And I will destroy the world.” - The Testament of Solomon

[somethhing-someethinng]

I see no one talking abt bangladesh right now and most people are focusing on england but basically a couple weeks ago the uni students started protesting against the job/admission quota previously in place where a percentage of the accepted applicants can get in on other claims such as the women's qouta (it was 10% i think) the disabled quota (somewhere like 1-5%) and the 1971 freedom fighters quota w/ their children and grandchildren which was a whooping 30%.

Naturally people were kinda against that. This girl i talked to on the bus told me she was in 406th position based on her merit but wasn't able to get physics on her uni subject but a guy on the 2385th position did cuz he admitted to the quota system on basis of having a freedom fighter grandparent. So naturally she went to protest too.

Unfortunately politics are a finicky thing so soon you have small terrorist groups attacking the students and causing more destruction and arson. Now there is a death toll. The prime minister has already called the protestors rajakar for going against the 'legacy of our independence' (for context rajakar is basically a slur around here which was used to refer to people from our side during the was who helped pakistan and killed and tortured people worse than they ever did. It was... not a good move)

It gets worse and the police get involved students die. Police officers die. Both of them blame each other. The actual perpetrators are still at large.

The students started a nine point demand but it wasn't accepted and instead people died. So they just turned it into a one point demand for the resignation of the prime minister who has been handling the entire situation quite poorly and has already made things was worse.

As of today on Aug5 near the afternoon (in GMT+6 at least) the former Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina resigned. And now we await further news.