#the only plot is against the audience

[cathymee]

maybe it's to maintain a sense of tension & turmoil that would eventually reach an explosive peak, a sense of tug-of-war, a back-and-forth to hammer home the ideals they want to deliver and for the viewers to chew on, but although these arguments regarding hiroshi & his stance as a man torn between his loyalty for his country & the loyalty for his Filipino friends and lover is of course important, how they write these scenes & the points they present from this week alone is getting too repetitive...? literally the argument scenes from last night & tonight between adelina & hiroshi is basically the same; the ideas were the same, the dynamics were the same: the aggressive, radical adelina, bristling rage and fear over the injustices she's seen thus far, and the cautious, inspiriting hiroshi, all hopefulness and reassurance one moment as a lover, defensiveness and sternness as a japanese soldier in another. this debate will be ever-present ofc, it is one of the series' biggest conflicts, but it is unfortunately so easy to tell when it is a.) being pulled up as a main topic to move the plot along / be a necessary conflict for character development/introspection / be the conflict to deliver the morals & messages the writers want to send to their viewers, or b.) when it is being pulled up only for the drama and filler to pass the time. like watching the characters sit down to argue for 10 minutes, do other things for the plot for 2 minutes, then sit down again to argue for the next 20 minutes. lol.

[llycaons]

truly do find 'perfect' sweet little kids who exist to be cute and protected extremely boring to the point of aggravation but alluka DOESN'T fit that description because she's been neglected and isolated her whole life, she is soul-bonded with a horrifying (to many) and nearly omniscient being, she is endlessly sweet and loving to really only one person, and she STANDS UP TO that person when he hurts someone else she cares about!! she may not have a lot going on but her character and personality contrasts her situation so much to make it really striking. and I'm a sucker for close brother/sister relationships!! so sue me!!!

[aethersea]

another thing fantasy writers should keep track of is how much of their worldbuilding is aesthetic-based. it's not unlike the sci-fi hardness scale, which measures how closely a story holds to known, real principles of science. The Martian is extremely hard sci-fi, with nearly every detail being grounded in realistic fact as we know it; Star Trek is extremely soft sci-fi, with a vaguely plausible "space travel and no resource scarcity" premise used as a foundation for the wildest ideas the writers' room could come up with. and much as Star Trek fuckin rules, there's nothing wrong with aesthetic-based fantasy worldbuilding!

(sidenote we're not calling this 'soft fantasy' bc there's already a hard/soft divide in fantasy: hard magic follows consistent rules, like "earthbenders can always and only bend earth", and soft magic follows vague rules that often just ~feel right~, like the Force. this frankly kinda maps, but I'm not talking about just the magic, I'm talking about the worldbuilding as a whole.

actually for the purposes of this post we're calling it grounded vs airy fantasy, bc that's succinct and sounds cool.)

a great example of grounded fantasy is Dungeon Meshi: the dungeon ecosystem is meticulously thought out, the plot is driven by the very realistic need to eat well while adventuring, the story touches on both social and psychological effects of the whole 'no one dies forever down here' situation, the list goes on. the worldbuilding wants to be engaged with on a mechanical level and it rewards that engagement.

deliberately airy fantasy is less common, because in a funny way it's much harder to do. people tend to like explanations. it takes skill to pull off "the world is this way because I said so." Narnia manages: these kids fall into a magic world through the back of a wardrobe, befriend talking beavers who drink tea, get weapons from Santa Claus, dance with Bacchus and his maenads, and sail to the edge of the world, without ever breaking suspension of disbelief. it works because every new thing that happens fits the vibes. it's all just vibes! engaging with the worldbuilding on a mechanical level wouldn't just be futile, it'd be missing the point entirely.

the reason I started off calling this aesthetic-based is that an airy story will usually lean hard on an existing aesthetic, ideally one that's widely known by the target audience. Lewis was drawing on fables, fairy tales, myths, children's stories, and the vague idea of ~medieval europe~ that is to this day our most generic fantasy setting. when a prince falls in love with a fallen star, when there are giants who welcome lost children warmly and fatten them up for the feast, it all fits because these are things we'd expect to find in this story. none of this jars against what we've already seen.

and the point of it is to be wondrous and whimsical, to set the tone for the story Lewis wants to tell. and it does a great job! the airy worldbuilding serves the purposes of the story, and it's no less elegant than Ryōko Kui's elaborately grounded dungeon. neither kind of worldbuilding is better than the other.

however.

you do have to know which one you're doing.

the whole reason I'm writing this is that I saw yet another long, entertaining post dragging GRRM for absolute filth. asoiaf is a fun one because on some axes it's pretty grounded (political fuck-around-and-find-out, rumors spread farther than fact, fastest way to lose a war is to let your people starve, etc), but on others it's entirely airy (some people have magic Just Cause, the various peoples are each based on an aesthetic/stereotype/cliché with no real thought to how they influence each other as neighbors, the super-long seasons have no effect on ecology, etc).

and again! none of this is actually bad! (well ok some of those stereotypes are quite bigoted. but other than that this isn't bad.) there's nothing wrong with the season thing being there to highlight how the nobles are focused on short-sighted wars for power instead of storing up resources for the extremely dangerous and inevitable winter, that's a nice allegory, and the looming threat of many harsh years set the narrative tone. and you can always mix and match airy and grounded worldbuilding – everyone does it, frankly it's a necessity, because sooner or later the answer to every worldbuilding question is "because the author wanted it to be that way." the only completely grounded writing is nonfiction.

the problem is when you pretend that your entirely airy worldbuilding is actually super duper grounded. like, for instance, claiming that your vibes-based depiction of Medieval Europe (Gritty Edition) is completely historical, and then never even showing anyone spinning. or sniffing dismissively at Tolkien for not detailing Aragorn's tax policy, and then never addressing how a pre-industrial grain-based agricultural society is going years without harvesting any crops. (stored grain goes bad! you can't even mouse-proof your silos, how are you going to deal with mold?) and the list goes on.

the man went up on national television and invited us to engage with his worldbuilding mechanically, and then if you actually do that, it shatters like spun sugar under the pressure. doesn't he realize that's not the part of the story that's load-bearing! he should've directed our focus to the political machinations and extensive trope deconstruction, not the handwavey bit.

point is, as a fantasy writer there will always be some amount of your worldbuilding that boils down to 'because I said so,' and there's nothing wrong with that. nor is there anything wrong with making that your whole thing – airy worldbuilding can be beautiful and inspiring. but you have to be aware of what you're doing, because if you ask your readers to engage with the worldbuilding in gritty mechanical detail, you had better have some actual mechanics to show them.

[imastoryteller]

20 Plot Twist Ideas That Will Shock Your Audience

One of the most effective tools in a storyteller's arsenal is the plot twist. A well-executed plot twist can leave your audience reeling, questioning everything they thought they knew about your story. It can turn a good story into a great one, leaving a lasting impact on your readers or viewers. In this post, we'll explore 20 plot twist ideas that will shock your audience and elevate your storytelling game to new heights.

1. The Unlikely Hero:

Turn the tables by revealing an unexpected character as the true hero. This can be someone seemingly insignificant or even an antagonist who redeems themselves at a crucial moment.

2. The Double Agent:

Introduce a character who initially appears loyal to the protagonist but is secretly working against them, only to later reveal their true intentions.

3. The Long-Lost Sibling:

Uncover a secret sibling, separated from the main character in their early years, and use their sudden appearance to shift the narrative.

4. Time Travel Paradox:

Play with time travel to create a paradox that forces the characters to confront alternate timelines or unforeseen consequences of their actions.

5. The Mastermind:

The story's villain is revealed to be a puppet in a larger scheme, controlled by a mastermind who has been operating behind the scenes.

6. The Supernatural Twist:

Introduce a supernatural element, like ghosts or mythical creatures, that the characters and audience believed were mere myths.

7. The Doppelgänger:

A character's doppelgänger appears, causing confusion and chaos as they try to determine who is the real one.

8. The Reversal of Roles:

Switch the roles of the protagonist and antagonist halfway through the story, making the audience question their allegiances.

9. The Untouchable Hero:

Create a seemingly invincible hero who unexpectedly meets their match, forcing them to reevaluate their abilities and tactics.

10. The Forgotten Past:

Unearth a character's forgotten or repressed memories, leading to a shocking revelation about their true identity or past actions.

11. The Betrayal Within:

One of the protagonist's closest allies betrays them, throwing their entire mission into disarray.

12. The Hidden Identity:

A character is not who they claim to be, and their true identity is revealed, impacting the story's direction.

13. The Inception Twist:

Blur the lines between reality and illusion, leaving the audience guessing what's real and what's a dream or illusion.

14. The Time Loop:

Trap your characters in a time loop where they're forced to relive the same events repeatedly until they can break free.

15. The Shapeshifter:

Introduce a character with the ability to change their appearance, creating doubt and suspicion within the group.

16. The Truth About the Mentor:

The mentor figure, who initially seems wise and benevolent, is unveiled as the story's true antagonist.

17. The Lost Artifact:

The much sought-after artifact or treasure turns out to be a fake, and the real item is something entirely unexpected.

18. The Pseudo-Death:

Fake a character's death to shock the audience and later reveal they were alive all along.

19. The Prophecy Reversed:

Subvert the traditional hero's journey by defying a prophesized destiny and taking the story in a different direction.

20. The Unreliable Narrator:

Reveal that the narrator has been lying or misrepresenting events, casting doubt on the entire story's accuracy.

Conclusion:

These 20 plot twist ideas are just the beginning, and by incorporating them into your narratives, you can leave your audience stunned, shocked, and eager for more. Remember that the key to a successful plot twist lies in its execution, so take your time and craft a twist that seamlessly integrates into your story, making it an unforgettable experience for your readers or viewers.

---

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[lostfracturess]

BACKSEAT MISTAKES — SATORU GOJO

pairing — satoru gojo x female!reader

summary — satoru gojo and you have been driving each other crazy all night with your constant teasing. just your luck, the only seat left in the car heading back home is right on his lap. with every bump and turn on the road home, you can't help grinding against him and with his moans in your ear, it's only a matter of time before something more happens right?

word count — 6.3 k

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, mentions of alcohol usage, unprotected sex, penetration, fingering, public sex, kinda breeding kink, praising, needy female, overstimulation, edging, oral (both male and female), satoru is a bit insane as always.

author's note — no need for fancy intros, don't act innocent, we both know you didn't click this for the plot. this is basically a continuation of this headcanon. if you enjoyed watching satoru lose his mind, i'd appreciate a reblog or comment, and now happy reading <3

masterlist

Satoru Gojo's lap was absolutely the last place you expected to find yourself tonight. Yet here you are, perched on his muscular thighs, the crowded car speeding towards your place after the party.

Trying to get comfortable, you shift your weight, accidentally brushing against his crotch. Satoru sucks in a sharp breath.

"Easy there." His hand grips your waist tighter, pulling you flush against his chest. "Or are you trying to start something?"

"You wish," you fire back.

"Oh, I do wish." He smirks, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt "Been wanting to get my hands on you all night."

You merely huff, pretending indifference even as your heart races at his words, his touch. Satoru Gojo is the biggest tease on campus, and he fucking knows it.

Tonight's party was no different.

From the moment you arrived, Satoru was there, looking infuriatingly handsome in his tight shirt that clung to his every muscle, flashing that cocky grin whenever he caught you staring. Which was often.

Now, crammed in Suguru's car, the only seat left just had to be Satoru's lap. Before you could protest, Suguru hit the gas and the car lurched forward.

Satoru's arm snakes around your waist to steady you. "Careful there," he murmurs, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. "Wouldn't want you to fall."

Biting your lip, you stare out the window, trying to focus on anything but the way your bodies are molded together. Every bump, every turn presses you against him in the most maddening way.

Heat pools in your core as you fight the urge to grind down onto him. Blame it on the alcohol, but it was damn hard to think straight when you were rubbing against his rough pants.

But then a glance at Satoru nearly makes you gasp. Head thrown back, eyes closed, lips parted. His arm tightens around you, pulling you impossibly closer.

Then, he dips his head, lips grazing your ear. "Keep squirming like that, love, and we're gonna have a situation." His other hand finds your thigh, fingertips dragging over your skin. "Not that I'm complaining. Grind on me all you want."

Your breath catches. Heat courses through your veins, and it's only partly from the alcohol. Maybe it's liquid courage, maybe it's weeks of pent-up frustration. But now it's payback time.

Slowly, deliberately, you roll your hips, relishing his sharp intake of breath.

Satoru shifts beneath you. Unmistakable proof of his hardening length brushes your backside, a whimper nearly escapes him.

"Fuck, you feel what you do to me?" Satoru's groan is quiet in your ear. "Been hard for you all damn night."

"Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?"

"Oh, I've got plenty in mind." Satoru's fingers dig into your hip. "But not sure you could handle it with an audience."

"Try me. I dare you."

"Don't tempt me. When I get you alone, you're gonna regret being such a tease."

Boldly, you rock your hips against him, teasing him just a little bit more.

His hips buck up involuntarily, seeking friction. His cock presses against your backside. He dips his head, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Another moan falls from his lips, this one deeper, needier, muffled against your shoulder.

"Keep moving like that and I won't be able to control myself," he warns, his words hot against your shoulder. "Gonna end up taking you right here in this car, audience be damned."

And oh, how you wanted to take him up on that challenge.

You shift again, this time with clear intent. You grind down against his hardness, rolling your hips in a slow, deliberate circle but subtly to avoid drawing attention from the others in the car, the flowing fabric of your skirt thankfully providing enough coverage to conceal your movements.

His fingers dig into your waist, a strangled groan escaping his throat. You feel him grow even harder beneath you, straining against the confines of his pants, his thick length digging into your backside.

Biting your lip, you reach back and palm him through his pants, squeezing gently. You can feel him throb through the layers of clothing separating you.

Satoru jolts, a high, needy whine catching in his throat. His head falls back against the seat, eyes squeezing shut as he tries to maintain control.

"Shit, shit, wait," he pants, fingers circling your wrist to stop your teasing touch. "Stop that."

"What's the matter, Satoru? Can't handle a little teasing?"

"You're going to regret this," he warns, voice thin with strain. "You're in so much trouble when I get you alone."

Wetness pools between your thighs, soaking through your underwear. You've never wanted him more than in this moment.

Satoru's mouth finds your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. "But you know, two can play at this game, love," he rumbles against your throat. "And I play to win."

To punctuate his point, his free hand slides up your inner thigh, fingers brushing feather-light over your feverish skin. Even that small touch makes you gasp, hips pressing against his.

"Better be careful. Keep up the teasing and I might just make you come right here, audience or no."

Your breath hitches, body torn between the desire to let him do just that and the knowledge that you're very much not alone.

But Satoru seems determined to push things further. His fingers grow bolder, wandering further up your thigh, skimming over the sensitive skin with feather-light touches that have you squirming.

Higher and higher he goes, until finally, finally, he reaches your clothed core. Your pulse pounds in your ears as he traces the lacy edge of your underwear, the barest hint of a touch.

"Satoru," you whisper, half plea, half warning. You're not sure if you're begging him to stop or keep going, but it doesn't matter. He does what he wants anyway.

"Shh," he murmurs, lips brushing your ear. "Just keep quiet and let me make you feel good."

With that, he presses his fingers more firmly against you, rubbing slow, lazy strokes over your clothed clit. Biting your lip hard, you try to stifle the moan rising in your throat. But then his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your underwear, and the first direct touch of skin against skin has you shuddering in his lap.

"So wet," Satoru marvels, fingers gliding easily through your slick folds. "All this, just from a little teasing? You're going to be drenched by the time we get home."

"Satoru," you whimper. "Please..."

"Please what, love?" His fingers circle your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your head spin. "Tell me what you want."

"I want—" you start, only to cut off with a gasp when the car hits a pothole, causing his fingers to slip lower, teasing your entrance.

"Sorry guys," Suguru calls over his shoulder, "road's a bit bumpy."

"Yeah, no problem," Satoru replies, voice surprisingly steady for a man with his hand between your legs. "We're good."

Good is an understatement.

The way his fingers are moving against you, dipping just slightly into your entrance before sliding back up to your clit, has you seeing stars. Your hips rock against his touch, desperate for more.

He traces the very edge of your entrance, circling you with a barely-there pressure that makes you want to scream. Dipping just the tips of his fingers inside, he gathers the wetness before gliding back up to your clit.

His touch is maddening. You're desperate for more, for the thick slide of his fingers deep inside you, for the delicious stretch and fullness. But Satoru denies you, keeps his touches feather-light and fleeting, never quite giving you what you need.

"Please," you whimper, hips canting shamelessly against his hand. "Please, Satoru, I need..."

"What do you need, love?" he purrs in your ear, fingers continuing their torturous movements. "Use your words."

"Your fingers. Inside me. Please, I need you inside me."

Satoru hums, considering.

His fingers dip into your entrance again, just slightly deeper than before. Your breath hitches, walls fluttering around the teasing intrusion. But before you can grind down, before you can take him deeper, he withdraws, sliding back up to circle your clit.

"Satoru," you whine plaintively.

"Patience, love. I'll give you what you need. Eventually."

His fingers glide down again, tracing through your slick folds, teasing at your entrance without ever breaching. It's torturous, the ghosting pressure where you're empty and aching.

Up and down, up and down, never pushing inside but just hinting at the pleasure of it. Your core turns molten until you think you can't take it any longer.

You're so wet you can hear it, the obscene sound of his fingers gliding through your arousal seeming impossibly loud in the close confines of the car.

"Fuck, you're dripping. I've barely touched you and you're already this wet for me."

As if to emphasize his point, he circles your entrance again, dipping just the very tips of his fingers inside, stretching you open around him for a fleeting second before withdrawing.

"So desperate to be filled. You want it so bad, don't you, love?," he marvels, pressing just slightly deeper on the next pass. "Want my fingers buried deep inside you, want me stretching you open and fucking you until you scream."

"Yes," you sob, head thrashing against his shoulder. "Yes, please Satoru, please..."

He rewards your begging with another barely-there thrust, the very tips of his fingers breaching your entrance before retreating again. It's simultaneously too much and not enough, the fleeting fullness stoking your desperation to a fever pitch.

"Satoru, please. I can't... I need..."

"Shh, I know. I've got you, love. Going to give you what you need now."

Slowly, torturously, he sinks one long finger into you. The slide is smooth and easy, your body offering no resistance. You moan low in your throat, head tipping back in relief and pleasure as he bottoms out, buried to the knuckle.

"Fuck, you're tight," Satoru whispers, sounding almost pained. "And so wet, fuck. Can't wait to feel this perfect little cunt wrapped around my cock."

The thought makes you clench hard, walls rippling around his finger. Satoru groans, hips grinding up against your ass, the thick line of his cock digging into you.

Slowly, he starts to move, pumping his finger in and out of you. But it's not enough, the stretch too slight to truly satisfy the ache inside you.

"More. Please, Satoru, more."

He obeys with a second finger, the added thickness making you gasp and arch. Satoru sets a deep rhythm, fingers curling to stroke that spot inside you that make you bite down your lip.

"Fuck, Satoru. More, please, more..."

You feel his answering groan more than hear it, the vibration of it rumbling through his chest pressed against your back. "Such a greedy girl, always needin' more."

He punctuates his words with a particularly deep thrust, before you can do more than gasp, he's withdrawing, ignoring your whimper of protest. But it's only for a second, just long enough for him to add a third finger on the next plunge.

The stretch is maddening, bordering on too much. It tears a gasp from your throat before you can stop it. It's loud enough to make Suguru glance back briefly. "Everything okay back there?"

You bite down you lip to keep from whimpering. With his fingers still inside you, Satoru keeps his expression impressively neutral, even as his other hand grips your thigh hard enough to bruise.

"Yeah, we're good. Hey, can you turn up the music? I love that song."

Suguru shrugs, seemingly oblivious to what happens in the backseat. "Sure thing, man." He reaches for the volume dial, cranking up the pounding bass until it fills the car.

You've never been more grateful for loud music in your life. As the beat thrums through the vehicle, you pray it will drown out any further sounds you might make. Especially considering Choso and Kento, passed out drunk were literally sitting beside you.

Satoru bottoms out, three fingers buried as deep as they can go, stretching you impossibly full. For a moment he stays like that, let's you just feel the perfect ache of it, the way your inner walls ripple and squeeze around him.

"Oh fuck." You grind your hips down to take him even deeper. "Satoru, yes..."

"That's it, take it. Take everything I give you like a good girl."

Slowly he begins to move. It's a smooth, deep glide, his fingers stroking you from the inside with devastating precision. He curls them just right, rubbing over that sensitive spot he found as if he knew it by heart.

Your head falls back against his shoulder, mouth open in a silent moan as he works you closer and closer to the edge.

"God, the sounds you make," Satoru groans, pumping his fingers faster, harder. "Sexiest fucking thing I've ever heard. Could listen to you moan for me all damn night. I wonder why he didn't do that sooner?"

Every thrust of Satoru's fingers, every glancing brush of his thumb over your clit, drags another broken whimper from your throat. Pleasure builds rapidly fast, your body climbing higher and higher, chasing the release that shimmers just out of reach.

"Satoru, please," you gasp. "I'm so close, I need... fuck, I need..."

"I know what you need," he rasps, doubling his efforts. His fingers piston in and out of you. "Need to come, don't you? Need to soak my fingers, drench my hand in your cum until it's dripping down my wrist."

"Satoru. Need you. Please."

"Shh, I've got you," he soothes, even as his thrusts grows harder, faster. "Just let go, love. I'll catch you."

Thank god for the loud music and low lighting. If not for that, everyone in the car would be clearly aware of exactly what Satoru is doing to you right now, how you're trembling and writhing in his lap.

His fingers speed up, his thump rubbing firm circles against your clit. You're close, teetering on the knife's edge of release.

"That's it. You're being so good for me, staying quiet while I make you feel good. You gonna come for me, love? Gonna soak my fingers while trying not to scream?"

His words make you clench hard around his fingers. Your thighs start to tremble. You're so close, body drawn tight.

Satoru feels it too. "That's it. Come on my fingers, love. Wanna feel you let go."

But just as you're about to tip over the edge, just as your eyes are fluttering closed, the car rolls to a stop. Satoru's fingers still deep inside you, a frustrated groan rumbling in his chest.

"We're here," Suguru announces, glancing at you through the rearview mirror.

It takes a moment for the words to reach you through the haze clouding your mind. You blink dazedly, struggling to catch your breath as Satoru carefully withdraws his hand form you.

"Thanks for the ride, man," he says to Suguru, voice strained but level. "I'll make sure she gets in safe."

"You sure you don't need a ride too? I don't mind, it's on my way."

But Satoru is already shaking his head, one hand reaching for yours, lacing your fingers together. "Nah, I'm good. I'll walk or catch a cab later."

He doesn't wait for a response, practically yanking you out of the car and slamming the door shut behind you. Satoru's grip on your hand tightens as he drags you to the door of your house, impatient to get you inside.

You fumble with your keys, doesn't help that Satoru is pressed against your back, the hard length of him digging into you, making it difficult to concentrate.

"Hurry," he urges. His lips find your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the heated skin. You gasp, head falling back against his shoulder as he sucks at your throat.

Finally, blessedly, the door swings open.

You barely have time to step inside before Satoru is on you again, kicking the door shut and pinning you against it. His mouth on yours in a bruising kiss, tongue delving deep, claiming you.

He kisses you like a starving man at a feast, consuming you, devouring you. It's all you can do to cling to his shoulders as the onslaught continues, feeling dizzy and breathless.

Large hands roam your body, pushing your skirt up around your waist, squeezing your ass. He grinds against you, the rough fabric of his pants creating delicious friction against your sensitive core.

"Satoru," you gasp as his mouth trails down your neck, teeth nipping. "Bedroom. Now."

"Takes too long." In one swift motion, he grasps your hips and lifts you up, turning to set you down on the stairs instead.

Your breath catches as your back meets the cold wooden steps. His body covers yours, his weight on you as he settles between your thighs. You can feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against you.

He braces a hand on the stair by your head, the other trailing down your side. "You've been teasing me all night. Strutting around in this tiny little outfit, bending over in front of me, brushing against me 'accidentally'. Driving me fucking crazy.”

He rolls his hips, grinding against your core. Even through layers of clothing, the friction is maddening. Your back arches, pressing closer.

"Maybe I like driving you crazy," you manage breathlessly. Your own hands tug at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin. "Maybe I like seeing you so desperate."

"Careful what you wish for, love."

Satoru's electric blue eyes burn into you, pupils blown wide. With a swift movement, he pushes you up against him and tugs your shirt over your head, tossed carelessly to the side.

You gasp as the cool air of the room hits your heated skin, goosebumps rising in its wake. But it quickly turns into a moan when his mouth is on your chest.

"That's for teasing me all night. Need me to mark you as mine, huh? Show everyone who you belong to?"

You moan, high and breathy, as his lips wander lower, tongue swirling against your sternum. When he reaches the edge of your bra, he doesn't hesitate, dragging the cups down to free your breasts. His large hands cup the soft mounds, squeezing gently.

"Fucking perfect." His large hands cup the soft mounds, squeezing gently, thumbs brushing over the hardened nipples. Then his mouth is on you, hot and wet, and coherent thought becomes impossible.

His tongue laves over one nipple, lapping at the sensitive bud, teeth grazing lightly. He sucks it deep into his mouth, the pull of his lips sending heat straight to your core.

Your hands fly to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft white strands as you hold him to your chest. Desperate, needy sounds spill from your lips as he works you over, every swipe of his tongue, every scrape of his teeth stoking the fire within you higher.

He lavishes the same attention on your other breast, sucking and licking and biting until you're writhing against him, hips rolling restlessly, seeking friction. Your core throbs, molten heat gathering between your thighs.

"Satoru," you gasp, arching into his touch. "Feels so good."

He hums around your nipple, the vibrations making you shudder. His free hand glides down your side, skimming over your ribs and waist, before gripping your hip possessively.

Satoru releases your nipple with a wet pop, blowing cool air over the wet nipple before his lips trail lower, peppering open-mouthed kisses down your stomach. He sucks a mark into the curve of your hip, tongue soothing the sting.

His fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear, starting to tug them down. But then he pauses, looking up at you through his lashes with a wicked glint in his eyes.

"Tell me what you want, love. Tell me how you want me to pleasure you."

“Your mouth.” You swallow hard, mind hazy. "Want your mouth on me."

A slow smile spreads across his face. "As you wish."

With deliberate slowness, he drags your underwear down your legs, baring you completely to his gaze. He settles between your thighs, hands smoothing up your trembling legs to grip your hips, spreading you wider for him. Fingertips press into your skin, hard enough to leave bruises.

"Look at you. So wet for me already. Bet you've been dripping for me all night, haven't you?"

Then, he dips his head, and the first hot swipe of his tongue through your folds has you crying out, fingers scrabbling for purchase in his hair. Satoru moans at your taste, the sound vibrating against your core.

He licks a long, slow stripe up your slit, circling your clit with the tip of his tongue. Your hips buck, seeking more of his tongue on you, but his hands hold you firmly in place. He teases you with slow licks, ghosting over where you need him most.

"God, Satoru, please," you whimper. "No more teasing."

"So needy."

But he obeys, diving in like a man starved, mouth hot and wet against your core, his lips around your clit and sucking hard. Before his tongue delves deep, fucking into you with lazy, wet strokes.

Your hips buck against his face, a strangled moan rips from your throat. Satoru's hands tighten on your thighs, holding you in place as he feasts on you.

"That's it, love," he encourages, pulling back just enough to speak. "Let me hear you. Want everyone in the building to know who's making you feel this good."

Your thighs tremble around his head, the obscene wet sounds of his mouth on you filling the room. Pleasure coils tighter and tighter in your core with every stroke of his tongue.

"Tell me, love. Tell me how desperate you've been for me, how soaked you've been all night thinking about my cock."

"So badly," you gasp out, fingers tightening in his hair. "Needed you to touch me, to fill me up. Please, Satoru, I need you to fuck me already."

He swears under his breath.

"You can't just say things like that. Gonna fucking ruin you, you know that?"

Then suddenly, without warning, he thrusts two thick fingers deep into your dripping core. A silent scream falls from your lips at the stretch, back arching off the stairs.

Satoru sets a relentless pace, pumping his fingers in and out of you, while his tongue works on your clit. "Like this? Is this what you needed?"

"Yes, yes. More."

"Fuck, I need to be inside you," Satoru growls.

He withdraws his fingers abruptly, ignoring your whine of protest. You watch through hooded eyes as he hurriedly strips off his clothes, revealing inches of toned muscle.

When Satoru finally frees himself from the confines of his pants, you mouth goes dry at the sight of him. His length is impressive, long and thick, the smooth skin flushed a deep rose color. The broad head is shiny with moisture, a bead of clear fluid leaking from the tip.

Satoru wraps a large hand around himself, giving a slow stroke from root to tip. His cock throbs in his grip, another pulse of slick pre-cum dripping from the slit. He groans low in his throat, head tipping back momentarily at the sensation after so long spent straining against his zipper.

You watch transfixed as he pumps himself lazily, putting on a show. His fist twists over the head on every upstroke, smearing the leaking liquid to ease the glide.

"See what you do to me?" Satoru rasps, blue eyes boring into yours as his hand speeds up. "See how hard I am for you, how much I'm leaking? I've been like this all fucking night."

He swipes his thumb over the weeping tip, gathering the drops of pre-cum beading there. "Been thinking about this all night. I know you wore that skirt just for me, didn't you? Wanted to rile me up, tease me until I snapped?"

Then he's bringing his thumb to your lips, painting your bottom lip with his cum, parting your lips. Your tongue flicks out to taste him, eyes never leaving him. Satoru's eyes darken as he watches you lick his cum from his fingertips.

"Mm, and what if I didn't? What if I put this skirt on for Suguru, hoping he'd be the one to take me home tonight?"

"Is that so? Well, tough luck. Couse I'm gonna stuff you so full with my cock you'll be ruined for anyone else. Gonna make it so you never forget who you belongs to."

"Oh really?" you challenge.

Licking your lips, you reach out to wrap your fingers around him, marveling at the hot, silken skin and the way he throbs against your palm. Satoru hisses through his teeth at the contact, hips canting into your fist instinctively.

"Fuck, your hand feels good." He watches intently as you start to stroke him from root to tip. "You have no idea what you do to me."

You tighten your grip, twisting your wrist on the upstroke. Satoru groans, low and guttural, as another pulse of slick pre-cum leaks from his slit. You smear it with your thumb. Satoru's abs clench, his cock kicking in your grip.

You lean in to drag your tongue along the underside of his shaft, tracing the thick vein there from base to tip. Satoru shudders, a broken moan spilling from his lips as you swirl your tongue around the leaking tip, lapping up the salty-bitter cum of his.

Desperate to be filled, you suck the broad head past your lips and tonguing at the sensitive underside.

Satoru's hips buck, forcing himself deeper into your mouth. You moan around him, relaxing your throat to take him as far as you can. Satoru's hands reach for your hair, fisting in the strands as he guides your movements. He rocks into your mouth, clearly holding back from truly fucking your face.

"So good, fuck, just like that. Taking me so well, so fucking good."

Saliva pools in your mouth, dripping down your chin as he works himself deeper into your throat. Your eyes water but you don't pull off. Just as you're starting to get lightheaded, lungs burning with the need for air, Satoru eases you off him with a groan.

A string of saliva connects your swollen lips to his cock for a heated moment before snapping. You gulp down air, staring up at him with watery eyes.

"Fuck, you're going to be the death of me," Satoru rasps, thumb swiping tenderly at the spittle on your chin. "I could spend all night fucking you and never get enough."

"Then fuck me already," you say, before giving his length a parting long lick along the underside.

"Oh, I'll fill you up alright, Gonna stuff you so full with my cock you'll feel me for days."

With that, he takes himself in hand, rubbing the thick tip through your slick folds, coating himself in your arousal. He's not penetrating, not yet, just teasing you with the promise of it. The broad head of his cock catches on your entrance with every pass.

"Feel that, love? Feel how hard I am for you? How much I want to bury myself in this tight little cunt?"

You can only whimper in response. But Satoru holds firm, keeping his movements shallow and teasing. He drags the thick length of his shaft up through your folds, the underside rubbing against your clit.

"Satoru, please. Stop teasing. I need you inside me."

"Patience," he coos, even as his hips stutter slightly, betraying his own desperate need. "I've been waiting for this moment for so long, dreaming about having you spread out beneath me. At least let me torture you a little bit first."

He punctuates his words with another slow drag of his cock against you, the head notching into your entrance for a breathless second before sliding up to grind against your clit.

"Please," you whimper, past the point of caring how desperate you sound. "Please, I can't take it anymore. I need you, need to fuck me."

Satoru hisses through his teeth. "Fuck, the things you say," he groans, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. "You have no idea what you do to me, how crazy you make me."

Despite his words, he doesn't relent, continuing his shallow thrusts, painting your folds with your combined arousal.

"I want to savor this," he breathes, voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Want to feel every inch of you before I bury myself deep. Want you trembling and desperate, want you to fucking fall apart before I even get inside."

And oh, you're close, so dangerously close to doing just that.

Every slide of his cock against your clit sends sparks skittering up your spine, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your core.

"Satoru, I can't... I need... oh fuck, please, please just fuck me, please."

Your desperate rambling seems to shatter the last of Satoru's restraint. He lines himself up and sinks into you in one smooth, powerful thrust, not stopping until he's buried to the hilt.

You've never felt so full, stuffed to the brim as he works himself deeper, inch by maddening inch. When he's fully seated, hips flush against yours, you both moan at the sensation. He's so deep like this, touching places inside you that have you seeing sparks.

For a moment, you just breathe together, foreheads pressed close, savoring the feeling of being connected so intimately. Then Satoru starts to move, and coherent thought becomes impossible.

He sets a deep, maddening rhythm, hips withdrawing nearly all the way before surging forward again. The drag of his cock inside you is intoxicating, hitting every sensitive spot, stroking the ache that's been building for what feels like hours.

Your nails rake down Satoru's back as he fucks you closer to the edge, leaving red lines in their wake. His pace quickens, thrusts becoming shorter and more focused, the sound of slapping skin echoing off the walls of the stairwell.

"Satoru," you moan, his name the only word you remember, the only one that matters. "Satoru, please, I'm so close…"

Bracing one hand against the stairs next to your head, he picks up speed, pounding into you faster, harder. The force of his thrusts threatens to push you up the steps, your head perilously close to banging against the hard surface.

You reach up, pushing your hands against the stairs above you for leverage, using the resistance to meet Satoru's increasingly powerful strokes.

"Fuck, just like that," he pants, blue eyes wild and heated as they bore into yours. "Take it, take every inch of me. Want to feel you come on my cock, want to feel you squeezing me so fucking tight."

His words, the relentless thrusts of his hips, the long drag of his shaft against your walls — it's all too much, too good. You can feel your orgasm building, ready to snap at any moment.

"Please," you whimper. "Please, I need… I need…"

"I know what you need, love."

He snakes a hand between your bodies, fingers finding your clit. He rubs your swollen clit in tight, focused circles, the added stimulation exactly what you need.

With one last deep thrust, the head of his cock kisses your cervix, and that's all it takes. Your body convulses around Satoru's plunging length.

Satoru works you through it, hips never faltering even as your spasming muscles threaten his control. He fucks you through your orgasm, grinding deep and rubbing your clit until you're shaking and sobbing.

Only when you collapse back against the stairs, boneless and spent, does he allow his own release to overtake him. With a last few erratic thrusts, he buries himself to the hilt and stills, his thick cock pulsing as he spills deep inside you.

His fingers dig into your hips, surely leaving bruises, as he rides out his orgasm, hips stuttering and jerking with each pulse of his release. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, his movements slow, then still.

Satoru collapses forward, his trembling arms barely supporting his weight as he rests his forehead against yours. You both struggle to catch your breath, chests heaving.

"Fuck, that was... incredible," he pants before capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he straightens up, his softening cock still buried inside you. His heated gaze drifts down to where your bodies are joined. He watches as his cum begins to trickle out of you, coating his length and dripping down your thighs to pool on the stairs beneath you.

"God, that's so fucking hot."

With a shuddering exhale, he slowly pulls out of you, a low hiss escaping his lips at the drag of your walls against his oversensitive cock. His eyes remain locked on your well-used sex, watching as more of his cum leaks out of you.

"Look at you. So messy and full of my cum. So perfect."

Unable to resist, Satoru settles between your thighs once more, his broad shoulders pushing them even further apart. He takes a moment to admire the view before diving in again.

A moan spills from your lips as he drags the flat of his tongue over your sensitive core, lapping up the evidence of your coupling with long strokes. He hums against your core, the vibrations making you shudder and clench around nothing.

Satoru takes his time, cleaning every inch of you. His tongue delves between your folds, circling your entrance before dipping inside to chase the lingering taste of your combined releases.

"Could spend hours just like this," Satoru murmurs between licks. "Would you like that, love? Like me to keep you full and sloppy and dripping all night?"

"Satoru," you whimper, thighs trembling around his head as he seals his lips around your clit and sucks. "I can't... it's too much..."

"Oh, I'm sure you can take one more. Just let me take care of you. I'm gonna make you feel so good."

He works his way inward, tongue tracing teasing circles around your entrance before delving inside. He laps at your walls, coaxing his own cum from your depths only to fuck it back into you with deep, sloppy strokes.

The wet sounds of his tongue between your legs fill the room, punctuated by your needy moans and gasps. Heat coils tight in your core once more despite your exhaustion.

Satoru feels you tense. "There she is. I knew my greedy girl had one more in her. Gonna give it to me, aren't you? Gonna come all over my tongue like a good girl."

His words set your blood on fire, a broken sob escaping your lips as he seals them around your clit once more. He sucks hard, tongue flicking rapidly over it as he fucks into you harder, faster.

"Ah, oh god. Satoru, please..."

Then, two thick fingers ease into you once again, curling forward to stroke that spot that makes your toes curl. He works them in tandem with his tongue, thrusting and scissoring and rubbing until you're keening his name, hips rolling mindlessly against his face.

His nose nudges against your oversensitive clit with every thrust, sending sparks shooting up your spine.

"Come on, love" he praises. "Ride my tongue, fuck yourself on my fingers. Want to feel you come all over me, want to taste you."

It only takes a few more purposeful strokes of his fingers and flicks of his tongue before you're come undone once again with a wordless cry, back bowing off the stairs as your walls clench and flutter around his fingers.

Satoru works you through it, pulling back just enough to watch your face contort. Only when the last aftershock fades does he ease his fingers free. Satoru presses a final, tender kiss to your clit before crawling up your body, pressing sloppy kisses to your sweat-dampened skin as he goes.

"You did so good for me, love, coming so hard for me. So perfect," Satoru praises, pressing kisses to your neck and chest as you try to catch your breath.

When he reaches your breasts, he palms them gently, thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples and making you gasp. Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him to your chest as he dips his head to take one nipple into his mouth once more.

He laves it with his tongue, swirling his tongue around it before he lavishes the same attention on your other breast, alternating between soft licks and lazy swirls, while his hand starts to dip lower.

"Satoru? What are you doing?"

Eventually, Satoru releases your nipple with a wet pop, soothing the ache with a final swipe of his tongue, his hand skating over your ribs and belly with clear intent.

He grins up at you, boyish and unrepentant. "What does it look like I'm doing? Maybe you've got one more in you, hmm?"

"Absolutely not. I'm fucking done, Satoru."

He pouts playfully, fingertips still tracing feather-light patterns on your lower belly. "Aw, come on, love. Just one more? I bet if I just…"

His hand starts to dip lower, fingertips just brushing your still-tingling clit. But before he can make contact, your foot plants itself firmly in the center of his chest and pushes him away. "Hands off, Satoru."

"Alright, alright, I can take a hint," he says, hands raised in surrender. "No more orgasms for you. For now."

"You're impossible."

Satoru grins. "You love it."

"You wish."

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[34choco]

Also they clearly wrote this movie with the assumption that viewers have watched enough of the show to understand what the hell is going on

[fev3rish]

YOUR EYES TOLD ME, “GIRL, COME RIDE ME !” kenji sato x fem!reader

you never could resist kenji’s eyes.

cw. oral (m receiving), overstim (?), mild dumbification (kenji doesn’t like thinking when it comes to you), kenji’s highkey obsessed with you, sex toys (vibrator that reader pulled out of god knows where), sub!kenji & gentledom!reader who’d do anything for him, alt synopsis: you and kenji fuck NASTY, aftercare, mina cameo, kenji and reader are equally obsessed with eachother. porn with barely any plot

notes. i’m releasing all my inhibitions just posting this; it’s incredibly self indulgent 😭🙏 this is my first time writing & posting smut, so i’m sorry if there any errors. this’ll likely be the first and last time i’ll post smut ever . chat i am literally so embarrassed this is not what i stand for . this is also good for a select audience; the ppl who get it, get it😄🙏

you never could resist kenji’s eyes.

it’s funny, you were the one to ask him out—you took a chance and decided to be brave, and when kenji heard the words roll out of your mouth, the expression that made its way onto his perfect face—god, it took all you had in you not to take him then and there. his eyes were so big, and he was just so cute, and the both of you were so very flustered, but as he smiled and accepted, you knew that you were in for the long run with him. 

his eyes pulled you in at every possible moment.

they pulled you into bed at night, and out of it in the morning. all kenji really needed to do was look at you the right way and you’d give in to every one of his whims, no questions asked; you were his. as much as you wanted to tell yourself you had him wrapped around your finger, because you did, it didn’t compare to just how much you’d risk for him. you were his, through and through. just looking at kenji did things to you.

you never could resist kenji’s eyes, especially now.

did he know what he was doing? in those sweatpants, that white shirt that accentuated his biceps just a little too good—the way his mouth hung open tiredly, the prettiest soft lips—in his hand, some of that ‘damned’ coconut water mina had given him. he must’ve been so tired to just settle with that. he was sprawled out on that weirdly big sofa of his, head thrown back, resting against the arm of the chair and legs spread—already enticing enough. you trailed your eyes from his tired body, to his eyes.

oh god, his eyes.

kenji’s hooded eyes raked across your form, then back to your face. His pretty eyes seemed to stare into yours for a little longer, almost needing—longing—to be paid attention to. 

you caved.

kenji’s breath hitched when you had suddenly straddled him, embarrassment evident in your face along with hints of poorly hidden lust. “baby?—“ he had tried to give you a proper greeting when you walked in, but you had foiled his attempts. now, he just looked at you cluelessly. you were breathing heavier than usual. “whats got you so perked up?” he tried to tease, but you shushed him. “you’re so — you’re so fucking stupid —“ you whispered. he raised an eyebrow.

“where’d that come from?—“ 

“can i give you head?” you blurted out and he did a double take. “where is this coming from?!” he asked again, his face heating up—he didn’t seem against it, though. you looked at him. he always looked at you when he talked, even when you didn’t have the bravery to look back into his pretty eyes—he always looked at you. It disarmed you so quickly. “Your eyes are so fucking pretty.” you began. “—Haven’t known love until you looked at me with them.” 

Kenji went haywire. it was so obvious that he was flustered, the blush reaching deep into his neck and the way he tried to cover his face was proof of that. you didn’t let him cover his face, you never did. “too pretty.” you muttered, and he only gave in to you more. “I want you so bad.” you looked into his eyes for what seemed to be the first time in forever. everything in you was just screaming, screaming at you to, for lack of a better word, fuck him. You wanted him so motherfucking bad.

kenji could never really resist your eyes either.

something in the way you looked at him, as you kissed the tip of his cock, did something to Kenji. “Shit.” he cursed, watching your spit dribble down the base—and he jolted up as you wrapped your fingers around him because you were being such a fucking tease. “You wanted me so bad, now you’re teasing me to death here, baby, please—“ he pleaded. you only smiled, your hands, your touch, was so light on him now. he could barely feel it, which made him reasonably pouty. then you unexpectedly pressed the tips of your fingers into him, and he gripped the couch a little bit tighter.

you took the tip into your mouth first, tongue swirling around it as he twitched in your control. kenji’s tip was always so sensitive, it wasn’t a surprise you had decided to go for it first—you wanted him to give in to you, after all. to give all of him to you this time.

it was funny how easy it was to get him to cave; just the bob of your head up and down had him clawing at your hair and pulling you in deeper and deeper. you could feel him in the back of your throat, and as you watched him babble on and on about how every hole you had was made for him (all the holes that mattered, atleast), and how you made him feel so good, you clenched your thighs and chose to be patient. 

you wanted to play with him for a little while.

“please, please, please, please, please—“

“oh, kenji, you’re moving too much. try to sit still, okay?”

kenji never realized his dick could get that red, nor did he realize you ever had any of this in you—you were always so obedient. you did what you could to please him, and he always made it a point to take good, good care of you; he was just so tired today, he didn’t think you’d be the one taking care of him this time. where did you even get that vibrator? how are you so good at handling it? why is he asking these questions? he doesn’t even want to think anymore, he just wants you on him. the feeling of your tongue, planting itself on the very tip of his cock—and the feeling of the vibrator perched upon his base is dizzying, and kenji can’t even speak. can’t talk. 

 it all just hurts so good.

how many times has he came again? he’s neglected counting. you’ve just been taking care of him so, so well, he doesn’t even want to think about any one but you. what does it matter? your pretty face is right infront of him, smiling up at him as you help guide him through yet another orgasm. another orgasm without him inside you.

he almost cries at the feeling.

he just feels so incomplete without his dick inside of you, feeling you clench all around him and watching you sink into his cock, watching it disappear, it’s fucking addicting. you’re fucking addicting. he can’t stop thinking about you, can’t stop saying your name, can’t stop reaching for your body because he just wants to feel you! he just wants to feel you. whatever he can get, he’ll take. 

just let him feel you.

your eyes widen at just how far you’ve pushed him, his eyes are so glossy, and his cheeks are covered in dried tears—his lips, swollen and red because you may have gotten a little too carried away in last round’s impromptu make out,  call out your name weakly. his throat is hoarse and when you stand up, he forces himself off his position in the couch to wrap his arms around your body, his head resting on your stomach. his breaths are ragged, and you can feel his cock hardening against your leg once more. you coo.

“kenji, what is it you want, baby?” you ask him, soft and sweet. he looks up at you, and he shyly mutters something about… ah.

“let—let me feel you.” he hiccups,before quickly adding, “please!”

he wants to be inside you.

that’s so cute. you audibly ‘awww’ at the state you’ve reduced him too, so pliant and willing—eager to please, eager for you to take from him as much as you let him take from you. his eyes are glossy, glistening with unshed tears, and they will likely be that way for a while. kenji looks up at you, his doe eyes making you abandon any and all plans you had for him. 

you could never say no to those eyes, they were just begging you for more. 

and more you would give. 

“there, there we go, there we go, yes— yess..” his voice is a husky whisper in your ear as you sunk down onto his cock; you never did get used to the stretch, and kenji can tell, with how you grip his shoulders so tight the hold is almost bruising. he squeezes his eyes shut once more and he hisses, you’re so tight, he’s such a weak fucking man, he has to still himself for a bit—has to hold on to your hips to stop you from continuing, because he doesn’t want to cum, he doesn’t want to cum yet—you haven’t even started speaking yet, he wants to hear you talk him through it.

you’re so beautiful.

“kenji, when can i move?” you ask, you’re so close to his face—he hates to say it, especially since he’s balls deep inside of you right now, and because you’ve been dating for a while already, but he has the biggest crush on you. “you can move now.” he replies. you smile, and press a kiss to his lips. “you’re being so good to me, kenji. you’re always so good to me, i’ll be good to you too. always.”

kenji wonders how you’ll go about that.

you’re going so fast.

he didn’t know you had the stamina for that, and neither did you, but this is kenji sato you are riding—god forbid you waste a single second when he’s inside of you. kenji can’t even speak, kenji can only moan, moan, and keep moaning. he watches you ride him and he swears he’s died already.

this is a view you can only find in heaven.

you’re just so pretty, he’s going to cum just from looking at you in this state.

look at you.

kenji’s mind is gone, and the kisses you share while you ride him are messy—teeth clanging and tongues crashing, but he loves it. he loves it when you get messy. 

“you’re so—”you bite back a moan, “you’re so pretty, kenji, oh my god—” you say to him, and he whimpers. “you make the prettiest sounds, baby, again.” again. again. again. he whimpers and he writhes again, and again, and again, for you. you only look at him in awe, because he’s so pretty when he can’t think. it makes you want to do all the thinking for him.

maybe you will.

“kenji.” you call, “you with me?” and he nods, his eyes lidded. he’s tired, but he’s with you. your left hand grabs his face, squishing his cheeks together. a feline grin makes it’s way onto your face as you lean in, “you always take such good care of me, kenji. this is my ‘thank you’.” and you’re making him pull out, and kenji whines, but he moans even louder when you sink all the way back in and he feels you squeezing him all over again. you take him to the hilt, skin slapping against skin as you watch his mouth part in utter bliss.

“do you want to cum inside me, kenji?” you ask, so very sweetly to him, and he’s so fucked out that all he can do, all he wants to do, is say “please.”

the shit you pull next has kenji dazed. you’re going so fast, you’re taking him all in, he can feel you squeeze every time you sink down and oh my god, it feels so good. “you feel so good.” 

you cum with him in a sea of bliss, and the ring that he can physically feel where you and him connect, has him on a new found high.

“wow.” 

“you really took me by surprise there.” kenji chuckled, now laying on the same couch that probably needed to be deep cleaned—you laid on his chest, smiling up at him mischievously. “i wanted to be the one in control this time. you always take good care of me, so why wouldn’t i do the same for you?” you ask, a rhetorical question that has kenji tilting his head and patting your cheek. “well, i was in great hands with youu!” he hummed, taking your hand and placing a kiss to the back of your wrist. “literally. i was in great hands.” 

you laughed, eyes creasing at the pun—and kenji laughed, too. then, he nodded towards the bathroom. “you wanna take a bath together?” he asks, “that’s about the most romantic thing you’ve ever asked me.”

“well, most is an exaggeration.” he shrugs,

“what other question would have me so happy other than that?” 

“you would know.”

“no, i don’t, wanna say it?” you challenge, a glint in your eye and kenji knows that you know.

“i don’t have a ring yet, babe.” he chuckles, wiping a stray hair off your face. “gotta make sure you get only the best, after all.” 

“well, i already have the best.” you smile into his chest, and kenji looks at the ceiling with a stupid grin on his face, before he calls mina over to tell her to set up a bath for the two of you. she obliges, snickering. as you hear the slow running of water, you feel kenji’s fingers sneak into your scalp. you needed the massage. as you let yourself give into true relaxation, you hear kenji’s voice lulling you asleep. he trusted mina would wake the two of you up once the bath was ready, anyway. 

your eyes close, and so do kenji’s, but he can’t help but reply to you—you say you have the best, but he can’t help but disagree. “i have the best, not you.”

[stunies]

CAN’T WE JUST PRETEND? hayato suo x f!reader ﾉ nsfw ﾉ kinktober day 25 — camgirl + streaming ﾉ 3520 words

you always do what the highest tipper says, but looks like that’s backfired tonight. “bring someone to fuck you raw on your next stream” they said, but oh. you don’t have a boyfriend, do you? so the next best option would be to swallow your pride and ask one of your friends to play the part.

CONTAINS ﾉ explicit smut, camgirl!reader, creampie, dry humping, little plot - smut heavy, multiple orgasms, pet names, streaming + audience, traces of possessiveness (suo), virginity loss (reader), this is a minimally edited old draft but i hope you like it regardless! ^ ^

“You want me to join one of your streams?” Suo tilts his head to the side, gently placing his cup back onto your desk. He swivels around in your chair to face you, and you suddenly feel like a guest in your own room.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” your head hangs low. “So.. you would be the closest person to that, I think.”

“Am I?” His lips tug into a small smile, and it dawns on you that you’ve just outed your inexperience to him. Your face burns a little more, this time spreading to the tips of your ears, but you fight it off with a quick shake of your head. “Well, you don’t necessarily need to have a boyfriend, right? The comment you showed me said it could be anyone.”

You think he might just be poking fun at you the way he always does. Egging you on to make you admit something embarrassing again.

It was already over for you years ago when he learned that you get flustered easily- and he’s never given you a break since. Always leaning in a bit too close for comfort and saying things he knows will come off the wrong way. Flirtatious, even. “I-I know,” you stammer. “But I want it to be someone I’m close to.”

“Why’s that? You’re such a pretty girl. You wouldn’t have trouble finding someone, right?”

He probably just wants to hear you say that you picked him because you like him, you tell yourself, but it’s not like you have any other options.

You fiddle with the hem of your skirt. “Well, I’ve never done it before. So I don’t wanna… lose it.. to a stranger. Literally anyone else would be fine, I think.”

Suo’s eyes widen at your confession. “Oh. You’ve never done it before?”

“No.” You tear your gaze to the side. “I stream stuff, but I’ve never done it with an actual person. Only… by myself. With toys… it shouldn't matter!” You wave your hands back and forth. “I’m good at pretending. They won’t be able to tell it’s my first time, so don’t worry, okay?”

He agrees with a cheerful nod. As if he would ever even dream of passing up a chance like this.

Suo feels awfully at peace with himself when he follows you to your room. It’s exactly the way it looks in your streams, and reality starts to dawn on him. You trust him enough to be your first, and to be your first visitor on your streams? How sweet of you.

Suo’s always been around you, just a breath’s away, but never this close. No one approaches you when you're with him because everyone has already started to assume that the two of you have been dating since long ago, and he was content with that. Being close to you was good enough. For now.

A part of him wonders if this thinking will change after today.

He helps you move some of your things out of frame. You’ve fallen awfully quiet, and he chalks it up to your nervousness kicking in. You’ve always had a habit of getting quiet whenever you were trying to focus and needed to push down your nerves.

“I think we’re ready.”

“Ah.” Suo smiles when he takes a seat beside you.“You’re sure you’re ready?”

You visibly tense when his thigh brushes against your own. Cute.

“M..mhm. It’s gonna start recording in….” you lean over your bed to fiddle with your camera, and his eyes linger over the curve of your back, “ten seconds.”

Nine.

Eight.

His hand comes to pat your head, and you shoot him a glare. He chuckles. Seven.

“Sorry. I couldn’t help myself. You look cute all nervous.”

Six.

“I am not nervous,” you huff, and his smile doesn’t falter. “And don’t tease me when it starts!”

Five.

“We’re supposed to not know each other,” you add, “so you’re supposed to act like you’re just one of my followers.”

Four. Oh, if only you knew. Who do you think sent you this request in the first place?

Three. Two.

He settles a little more comfortably on your bed, and you smile brightly.

One.

“Ah! Hello everyone.” Suo turns to you, and heat rushes to your cheeks almost immediately after. He’s taking the initiative? “The video is working fine, I assume? I’ll be her…” his fingers hook underneath your chin, and you stiffen. “..First guest tonight.”

“Yea…m..mhm!” A sharp inhale through your nose helps you regain your focus. Bubbly and cute- that was how you wanted to be perceived while on stream. “I brought him on to join us today!” You wrap your arms around him, moving behind him to rest your chin on his shoulder. “This was what you all wanted to see, right?”

The comments start flooding in almost immediately. Some seem to like Suo, and some don’t. Others are wishing it was them instead- but that’s to be expected. Suo reads them all with a kind smile, and a part of you is glad that it’s him who was here with you tonight. He seems to be a natural. “Let’s give everybody what they want and make good use of their time. Doesn’t that sound good?”

The hesitant nod you give him is a little out of character for you, but you’re sure no one would be able to notice your sudden shyness. You make a mental note to try and do a better job at hiding your nerves going forward, though it’s a bit challenging when Suo smiles at you like he knows what you’re thinking. His gaze is strong.

It makes you feel shy. Like he’s uncovered some secret of yours that you didn’t even know you had.

Just ignore it. Ignore the hands that guide your hips when you slowly climb onto his lap, making sure your audience gets a good view of your ass when you do. Suo angles himself a bit, runs his hands up and down your sides and it’s pathetic how hard you shiver from such a light touch. “H-hey,” your voice drops to a low whisper, “quit making me all blushy..”

“Am I?” The way he innocently cocks his head to the side is infuriating. “I haven’t done anything, princess. You’re welcome to use me how you wish so you can please your audience.”

“I-I know.”

You hover above him for a moment, and just how pretty your best friend is finally starts to sink in. His hair looks soft. His lips look soft too. Another curious tilt of his head snaps you out of your daze, and you close the distance the next second– lips meeting his own in a sensual kiss. He’s angled you in such a way that your cam doesn’t quite catch the kiss itself. It’s focused on the back of your body, so he takes advantage of that- moves his lips against yours softly and slowly.

He wants to take his time with you. Make the most of this. Your viewers can wait. He would give them what they want later.

All they care about is seeing you get fucked dumb, right? He will.

He’ll take his time ruining you thoroughly– just has to admire every bit of you first. It’s your first time after all.

“You’re so cute,” he smiles between kisses, his exhale trailing into a soft laughter when you visibly tense at the compliment. “Oh? Getting nervous on your own stream? That’s not like you.”

You can only muster a shaky noise of protest. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to bring him on camera after all.

His eyes shift behind you, glancing at the comments, and he suddenly perks up at one in specific. “Oh dear, you already have a request, dove. They want to see you spread in front of them.”

Of all the reactions he had expected from you, the last thing he would have expected is for you to pout at him pulling away. “T-the kiss…” your voice trails off into a huff, and the amused laugh that leaves his lips surprises him too. Oh, how cute. “All you had to do was ask, my dear. Come back here.”

You practically melt into his touch. He kisses you a little more intensely this time. Kisses you with the intention of claiming you as his. You’re moaning into it, and the jitters in your stomach fills you with so much want.

You need him so bad- why does kissing him feel so good?

You’ve never looked at him in this way. Were you always hiding this somewhere in your heart? It feels so natural, feels so good that you’re certain no toy could possibly replicate how good Suo is making you feel with just a kiss. You shut your eyes a little harder when you feel him run his fingers and down your sides again, heartbeat pounding against your chest and you swear it’s making you feel dizzy.

He’s exploring your body. That’s what he’s doing, right? Why does it feel like he already knows your body so well?

His fingers brush over all your sensitive spots. It sends shivers shooting down your spine, and he seems to already know this by the way he smiles against your lips.

You’re on your back before you even realize it. Oh- that’s right. He’s good with his hands from what you’ve heard. He has that unique fighting style… though you’ve never seen it yourself.

Suo’s hands rest on either side of your head, and he looks down at you with that all too knowing smile that heats your face up all over again.

“Spread.”

Your lips tremble from the searing warmth that spreads to your ears. Has.. has he always been like this? You give him a shaky nod- force yourself to stay focused. His gaze feels as if it’s been intensifying with each passing second and it’s flustering you. Suo’s eyes are locked on your body when you shyly spread your thighs apart, leaving your cunt fully exposed for him and your audience to see. “Mmm. Good. And how do you all feel about this?”

He turns to the camera. He’s talking to them- wants their confirmation that you did good. You look at them too, not realizing the shy expression you’re giving them until someone points it out.

User156: she looks soaked

User32: Hurry and touch her

User98: Try and make her wetter

User112: She looks cute today. Like she’s nervous?

“Hmmm..” his eyes scan over the comments. “I can do that. Watch her carefully, okay?”

He moves back on top of you, lowering himself onto his elbows to hover just above you. “Your viewers want to see you get all needy for me,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, and you tense. “So let’s get you nice and soaked for them, okay?”

He lets his lower body rest on yours, and that’s when you feel it press against you. “Ahh.. you feel it?” He whispers into your ear, and your mouth falls open in a shaky moan. “See what you do to me? It’s driving me a little crazy.”

He smiles at the way your lips press into a shaky line. You really didn’t know? Did you not expect him to get hard from kissing you?

He presses into you a little harder, smiling when you gasp. He feels big, doesn’t he? The comments start flooding in as soon as he starts moving his hips against yours, the friction only making you dizzier and needier for him to finally fill you up.

“That feels…. ah… feels….” your arms come to wrap around his back, pulling him a little closer to you. The way his breath fans against your neck only makes you melt into him more. His breath makes you shiver– and oh, he smells so good. His hair is soft when your fingers rake through it. You feel him smile into your neck this time, and it sends a wave of pleasure straight to your cunt.

You want him so bad that it’s pathetic.

He knows how to perfectly grind against you to hit your clit with each roll of his hips. It’s just enough pressure to have your mouth falling open in a moan, but not enough to where you’re jerking. Your reactions are fully under his control- your viewers feel the same too.

User990: Her eyes are rolling back from that

USer4456: Gotta see her take him inside soon.

User12: fuck her dumb already

“Feeling good? I can see that you are… you’re so cute.” He wonders if it would be too mean to mention that you’re pulling him closer to you by wrapping your legs around his waist, but ultimately decides against it. “Want more kisses?”

“Yes!”

That was fast.

He gives you one peck before he’s tilting your head to the side, planting sloppy kisses along your jaw and behind your ear. You’re latched onto him like a koala now, gasping into his chest each time he brushes against your clit. The friction is numbing, and it feels so good that you can’t tell if you’re cumming.

It all feels equally good– pleasure blurring together and it’s almost scary how desperate you’re feeling.

“You’re making quite the mess..” Suo laughs, and your cheeks burn with embarrassment. “You didn’t feel it running down your thighs? It’s everywhere.” Your eyes widen, because you really didn’t feel it. “Too busy thinking about my cock? I’ll put it inside you if the viewers ask me too.”

The viewers. That’s right.

“Please…” the change in your volume makes it clear that you’re speaking to your audience, “please let him fuck me. I need it so bad… I…”

He only smiles at you.

User46: Do it already

User39: She’s gonna cry at this rate

User125: He’s pretty mean, isnt he?

User80: He’s having fun with it, clearly. I like her like this though

You hate how visibly happy you get after reading the first comment. He’ll finally give it to you now that they’ve asked, won’t he? “Hey..” you gesture towards Suo when he grinds against your clit once more, “they said…”

“I know.”

A strong hand comes to keep your hips planted on the mattress when you instinctively push back against him. “There’s no rush,” he smiles, “I just needed to make sure you were ready.”

A light chuckle leaves his lips when he catches your brows furrowing. He’d have to teach you patience another time maybe. If you’ll let him, that is.

“I’m ready,” you latch onto him again, arms wrapped around his neck.

“Are you sure?”

Teasing. That jerk.

“I am. I’m—”

You’re silenced by the gentle way his hand comes to cradle the back of your head against his chest before he finally pushes in. It feels good- how does it feel better than your toys? You’ve never felt like this– it’s numbing. It feels so good that you’re not sure you can handle more. “W-whoa… ah— S-suo-”

“Relax.” His voice makes your walls flutter, and you seem to finally understand just how badly your body has been craving Suo. “Relax and let me inside, okay? I know your body.” Your body heats up, and yourself turn to mush. “I know your limits. Trust me and ease up, okay?”

You try to listen. He pushes the rest of his length inside in one swift movement, and your head falls back in a silent scream– legs trembling and even Suo’s mouth falls open in a subtle gasp. Fuck- you realize you’re cumming, and you’re cumming hard.

User99: Did she just cum?

User106: she came from him bottoming out.. No way

User54: If it was me, she would have cum just from the tip.

The grip you have around Suo’s back is painful to say the least. You’re still fluttering around his length, chest rising up and down in loud gasps. “Now… are you still feeling okay?” His body covers your own entirely when he lays you on your back, resting on both elbows that cage your head on either side. It makes you feel safe, even with an orgasm that was so intense you almost feel scared. You briefly wonder how he’ll make you feel when he finally moves.

“M-mhm… I’m o-okay,” your face feels hot, and the stutter in your own voice betrays you.

“Looks like you’re feeling really good.” He catches on immediately. “Then, I’ll start moving….”

Already? Wait. You’re still sensitive—

User2663: oh wow

User919: this is more like it

User152: Finally at the good part

“Ahh… you’re squeezing really hard, aren’t you? Ease up for me.”

He feels so good that you can barely hear him. Even if you try to ease up— you’re not sure if you can. Not with how good he’s stretching you out. But you try anyway, try and be good for him so he’ll give you kisses all over your face again, and he seems to be content with your efforts. “There you go. Just like that. Relax and trust me.”

You’ve never felt this way towards your best friend. It feels good. Everything about him feels good. Each roll of his hips fills you perfectly— hits against a spot inside you that sends pleasure coursing through your body.

He’s everywhere. Kissing your neck, whispering in your ear— his hands run up and down your sides and you’re so hot you think you might actually be melting. Your second high approaches you faster than ever before, and he smiles against your skin.

“You’re getting close, aren’t you? I can tell. Don’t hide it from me. Let it out. Show me how good you feel.”

You’re getting close. So close. So close that you could already feel it– feel the way your mind blanks and your body tenses. Suo’s all over you- and you can feel each drag of his cock, each kiss he plants on your neck, you can feel the way his lips move when he laughs against your neck–

Your eyes shoot open when it finally hits you like a wave, vision dotting white. You let out a piercing shriek when hot flashes wash over you all at once, walls spasming around his cock and he only seems to fuck you better when he picks up on it. “Oh? Cumming again? What a good girl you are,” his voice carries a hint of breathlessness in it from how tightly you’re squeezing him. “It’s an intense one, isn’t it? Your eyes never roll back like this.”

Even when you feel like you’re about to pass out with pleasure, it clicks in your head. “E-eh? What do you mean..? A-ah…. feels good.. feels..” your head falls back against the pillow, body rocking up and down each time he pushes against you.

“Hm? Nothing you need to worry about, dove,” you feel him follow you, lean down and his teeth brush over your neck. You stifle a moan. “So, my pretty girl…”

“Inside..” he raises his voice to address the viewers, “or somewhere else?”

You choke out a moan when he abruptly grabs your tits, giving them one squeeze. Then two. Then a third one, a little gentler than the first two. “Maybe here?”

“Or…” he takes a fistful of your ass in his hands next, chuckling when you gasp. “Here?”

It sounds like he’s addressing the viewers, but he’s not looking at their responses- eyes on you only. “S-Suo…” your voice is barely audible at this point, body too fucked out and tired to try moving, so you just lay there and take everything he has to offer. “Inside.. please..”

“Oh. Inside? What a good girl,” he’s whispering so low that you’re certain they can’t hear him.

“You knew I was talking to you. Very well,” he sets a rougher pace against you, and you can only cling onto him for dear life. “Then I’ll dump it all inside you.”

“You’ll take all of it, won’t you? You’re such a good girl for me.”

“Mhm– yes, yes, I will! Please give it to me…”

It’s cute how needy you are even in your current state. It only takes a couple more thrusts before his face contorts, only for a second before he regains his composure, and he pushes deep inside, cock shooting ropes of cum against your cervix as you let out a whine.

He pumps you full of cum, fills you to the brim and a part of him is content that he’s claimed you for all of your viewers to watch with jealousy. He’s the only one who’s done this with you.

And he’s intent on keeping it that way.

User278: show us the creampie!!

User9293: we want to see

He gives them a warm smile before abruptly shutting off the stream. Enough of that. He was starting to get tired of their comments anyway. As if he’d be willing to show them such an intimate sight.

“So,” he turns back to you again, expression softening ever so slightly when his eyes land on you again. “Are you going to show me your real expressions now?”

lace dividers from @adornedwithlight

[ziggyyyystardust]

The Star Wars fandom is like a case study of what happens when you overthink media intended for children to the point that you’ve completely altered the message and plot that the creator intended. The whole “the Jedi order is evil and Anakin/Vader is the good guy!” Idea fails to take into account the fact that like.. these movies are meant for kids, they’re meant to be easy to follow and easy to understand with obvious good guys and obvious bad guys. Yknow how we know the Jedi are the good guys? - they’re the main characters, they have funny one liners, they kill the evil bad guys who have red laser swords with their blue and green laser swords, they’re relatable, they’re nice, they’re paternal, so on so forth.

I love critical analysis and I’d never speak a word against it, when we consume media we should always take a step back to consider what ideas they’re selling us, what undertones are portrayed, is this supposed to represent a real life problem? But it’s also equally as important to consider who the audience is and how that might impact the story. And ultimately the audience is children, Star Wars is not meant to be a mystery thriller where the good guys are secretly the bad guys which you can only tell when you pick the story apart 20 which ways. The movies could not more clearly tell us who were meant to support. - is it the angry guys with red swords, ugly old guy who shoot’s lighting out of his fingers and takes over the universe, people who blow up planets, chop off their kids hands and blow up planet’s? Or is it the people who wear warm coloured clothing, talk about wanting peace, who tell funny jokes, have heartfelt moments, with blue and green lightsabers, fight against the space fascists and love each other.

Ultimately, Star Wars isn’t that deep, enjoy it for what it is and I promise you’ll enjoy it 100 times more

[pampushky]

Mon Petit Doudou

Pornstar! Charles Leclerc/Pornstar! Reader - 7.4k

here it is!! enjoy! please reblog and share and all that lovely stuff! getting your comments makes my day and seeing how excited everyone was for this made me super happy :)

uhhh anyway. Might be a bit inaccurate, I'm not all that well versed in BDSM stuff so if anything is like... a super negative connotation within the community that's inaccurate (besides one character who has bad etiquette for plot reasons sorry)

anyway lmk what ya think lmao

masterlist |

He was too beautiful to be doing something like this for a living. With those bewitching hazel eyes. The effortlessly styled hair. His athletic build. The sweet slur of his accent as he lowered his voice to a sultry level when he talked to you.

But weren’t you as well? Wasn’t that why you fought so hard for your anonymity? That was why you had only ever allowed your mouth or lower to be seen in any stream or video, combined with the concealer that hid away any tattoos or marks from the prying eyes of those who watched you pleasure yourself on camera. Why you never wore your glasses to any professional shoot. It became a necessity to dress so differently on and off screen.

So why did it feel so weird now? Two of you, the same profession between you as you discuss plans for your… collaboration. Charles smiles at you. Stubbly beard and white teeth, a bit of the foam from his coffee clinging to his mustache. Perfectly styled hair as though he’d just stepped out of a convertible. You know you look similar. The soft cardigan slipping off your shoulders. Exposing the delicate tattoos of rue on your upper arms that circled your biceps and danced up to your shoulders.

Herb-of-grace. Purity. Innocence. How ironic for you, considering what your profession had turned into. From a part-time job to a serious career that often ended up having better benefits and more money. 

Charles leans forward, whispering something in French you don’t quite catch, making you frown as he cackles, leaning back. Other tables at the cafe look at the two of you, and you can see the adoration in their eyes. You look like the perfect couple. In a way, you are, just not a romantic one. A spoiled rotten sub and the protective, sweet dom.

“I think you should let them see the tattoos, no? I think they would like it,” Charles says, shit eating grin on his lips. “What does the rue flower represent again?” Because he damn well knows what it means, he just likes to tease you.

“You’re impossible,” you take a steady sip from your cup, looking down at the journal that you’d brought to jot any ideas or notes down in. “You are aware of that, right?”

“But the people like it.” Charles leans back with a shrug. “So. To continue…”

If only the other tables were close enough to hear any of your discussion. To hear the things he was suggesting. But you couldn’t even protest against most of his ideas— they were appealing. Sponsorship deals that both of you had been offered. Not only would your audience like it, but… well, you would enjoy it as well. You can’t help but the little smile that makes its way onto your lips when he nudges you under the table with his foot. 

“Don’t play footsie with me,” you kick him back gently, making sure to just brush his shin. “Who said it was my foot?”

“Har har.” You roll your eyes, but Charles kicks you again, and you can’t help but laugh with your head tilted back. ��And was that your foot, this time?” “Wouldn’t you like to see, hm?” 

The rest of the video series is figured out pretty easily. The safewords, plot, who’s going to edit the videos (Max will. He’s one of Charles’s buddies who you’ve seen edit together the most filthy things from previous collaborations and blending everything together with a straight face while sucking on a fancy bendy straw leading to a tall can of Red Bull). You’re comfortable with it all, even asking if Max would be willing to let you use the straw for your water bottle during filming breaks when shooting more traditional videos. 

“Probably not. He’s very protective of it,” Charles says sagely, watching as you just doodle loops and loops of ink into your journal. “Do you still use the same brand of concealer? Just so I can have it on hand. The other bottle you gave me expired.”

“Ah, no, ended up having a bad reaction with it the last time I used it,” you scratch your neck and shrug the cardigan back on. Covering up the twin rue tattoos. “I’ll text you the new brand. I can bring it, too, because it’s a bit pricy…” 

“Don’t worry about it, I can get it.”

“Yeah?” 

“Of course,” Charles looks down at his phone when you text him the link, frowning more so about how you had thought you’d even need to think about buying it. A bottle of your matching shade is ordered by the end of his sentence. “You know that.”

“Tattoo seals are also a good thing to use,” You turn to reach into your bag, missing the way that he traces over the leafy, flowering tattoos on your shoulders. You push a few of the little stickers across to him, and he raises an eyebrow. “Don’t have to worry about replacing or cleaning the sheets, then.” 

“Hm. My smart girl,” His praise falls easily from his lips, and he doesn’t miss the way your gaze seems to soften for just a second after it. “I’ll let you know,” Charles snaps a picture of a few and pushes them back towards you. “Stream in a few days then? Don’t forget the collar, mon chou,”

You just laugh, leaning back in your seat while finishing your tea. Like you haven’t been discussing an upcoming scene that will take place in your next shoot with your dom over coffee. How you’ll split the costs and whatever monetization comes from the videos, while also letting him spoil you with the tea and pastries you love. It’s almost like a date. Perhaps in another life, it would be such an innocent thing, and not the planning of a semi-niche porn live stream.

Charles trails kisses down your neck, letting his stubble brush against you, chuckling as your skin flushes, leaving a wake of goosebumps and heated skin under his lips. The camera is on, but you don’t exactly see it, most of your face is pushed out of frame with how you’re lying across his lap.

“Are you going to be good, mon chou?” 

One of his hands rubs softly on your back, while you’re laid across his lap. You’re face down, and you know you’re positioned in a way so that the viewers will be able to see all of your body. You squirm gently, and nod, trying to tilt your head back so that you’ll be a bit closer to his face. You lay so that you’re facing away from the camera. Your tattoos have been carefully covered with a mix of concealer and tattoo patches. It’s warm, and you feel safe, your mind fuzzy as you slip into subspace. Your hair falls in small waves around the duvet, like a halo. 

Sitting comfortably against your neck is your newest collar. A lovely burgundy leather with brass d-rings and pressed eyes that have been carefully polished to shine. A few pendants hang off the D-ring, little gifts from Charles to you. The inside of the collar itself is lined with soft velvet, made to stop the skin from chaffing. Admittedly, Charles had splurged on it for you, wanting you to have only the best as he worshiped you.

“Uh uh uh,” His hand moves to cup the small of your back to stop your squirming. “Doudou, they want to see you. Don’t move so much,” He looks over at the screen, where a few messages are beginning to pop in. A few donations pop onto the stream’s overlay, displayed for all to see, along with the chat on the side, displayed by one of his other monitors.

ugh she’s so cute (€5) Is that a new collar? Looks so cute on her!! (€10) awww!! she’s getting so excited!! happy to see you both <3 (€20) Such a good girl, listening so well already (€5) Make her answer the question. Give a sub an inch and they’ll take a mile. (€50)

Charles frowns at one of the more recent messages in the chat. Very rarely did he ever need to punish you for being a brat or acting out of turn. Whenever he did do this, it was always scripted for the viewers. Played up, and a rare event that usually came after a request was put in for it, along with a substantial amount of money. But fifty euros is nothing close to what would substantiate any punishment, so he brushes over it and smiles at the chat as more tips and excited messages drop in.

“Oh, mon chou, they’re so happy to see you again,” Charles whispers, watching as the viewer count starts to grow as people tap on the notification that you’ve both gone live. More comments in the chat pour in. “Yes, she’s been so good lately, haven’t you, ma moitié?”

He runs a hand up and down your back, and then gently squeezes the swell of your ass. You squirm a little bit again and make a needy noise rather than answering.

Make her answer. She seems like a bit of a spoilt sub, needs a reminder of who’s in control. (€50)

The message donation floats on the stream overlay for a few seconds, before being replaced by more donations. The chat is a mix of more praise and excitement along with a handful of confused ‘???’ about the last donation message. It’s the same username as the other donation that had confused him a bit. His mouth quirks down into a frown before he quickly masks it with a little smirk as he looks down at you.  

“Doudou, have you been good?” Charles whispers softly in your ear, leaning down to ask you. His stubble brushes over your skin, and he gently rubs your lower back, encouraging you to speak. “They want to hear your sweet voice, bébé.”

“Uh–huh,” you mumble out, starting to squirm again. “Been good, sir.”

“Yes or no, bébé,” Charles gently reminds you, his touch still reverent around your skin as you lay across his lap, stomach facing down. “I know you have, but our lovely friends watching you don’t.”

“Y-yes, been so good,” your voice is soft, and his heart melts. Charles is already a very soft dom towards you. Never pushing. Never raised his voice. He doesn’t like using any crops or toys that can verge on pain. That’s just what the relationship between the two of you had become. 

she’s so cute!! Aaksfhasl so so good for us!! I just wanna see her cute little face (T^T) She’s so eager to please!! 

The chat is a blur at this point. Mostly compliments for your good behavior and how eager you appear to be to start the steam. Lovingly, Charles rubs your back again. Kisses the top of your head, and then gently starts to finger you open, prepping you for what you’d both discussed for today’s streams.

“There’s a bunch of toys we’ve gotten today,” Charles leans back to grab the little basket of toys, reading out their names and the slightly dry sponsor segments he knows he has to read. He lifts each one to show the camera, and you press your legs together with a whine as he reads out the descriptions the sponsors had given him for each toy.

He tilts his head back to laugh a little bit at your desperation and softly kisses the small of your back. 

“You should have seen her the other day,” Charles looks at the camera, while you let out little squeaks. You’re still on his lap and trying your best to keep still as he gently pumps in and out of you with his ring and middle fingers. “She was so good. Even when she had a plug in.” 

Hot hot hot omg

You squirm slightly at his words. Whining softly. Staying as still as possible just like he’d told you, lost in the sweetness of subspace. The tip of his middle finger brushes against a very special, spongy spot inside of you that has you keening into the duvet on Charles’s bed. 

“Oh? Did I find something?” Charles feigns disinterest while curling his fingers to press just a bit harder into your G-spot. He reaches with his other hand to grab the camera, wanting the chat to have a good view of your folds clenching around his fingers tightly. When he pulls his fingers out, they glisten with your wetness, and your sweet hole tightens around nothing. “Look at you, so responsive for me,”

He brings himself to a slower pace, no longer thrusting his fingers in and out of you with the same rigor as he had minutes before. You wiggle your rear at him again, craning your neck to look over your shoulder at him with a little sigh, your pleading look invisible to the camera. Just as his lips quirked into a small smile over your sass, another donation popped up just as he pressed the camera back onto its little stand. 

What an indignant little thing. Put her in her place, hopefully this helps you grow a pair. (€100)

Charles holds back every childish instance to flash his balls to the camera just to specifically show this donor that he does indeed have a pair, and a rather substantial set at that. You whine again, and without really thinking, he brings his palm down onto your left cheek, the one closest to the camera. It’s not too hard, and it sounded worse than it actually was. You let out a little yelp, and still, your hands fist in the duvet covers even tighter, looking over your shoulder at him with wide, shocked eyes. 

“You know better than to whine, you’ll get what you want,” Charles' gaze softens, and he already feels a bit of regret for spanking you without warning. The collar around your neck shifts a bit, some of the pendants hanging off the D-ring jingle together from how you’d jerked your head back to look at him. The little bell on the collar chimes sweetly, and soothingly, Charles continues to rub your left cheek, leaning down to softly kiss you out of frame. You whine, and he swallows all your noises, before leaning back in, looking at the camera while lovingly soothing the skin where he’d smacked down. 

To some satisfaction, he can’t see any new donations from that particular donor. He’ll make sure you feel nothing but loved, with the two hundred euros the person had dropped on it. Charles just smiles again, letting his hand still on your lower back, continuing with the stream as planned. 

An hour in and he’s had you nearly cumming on one of the rabbit toys sent to you. It’s smooth, and the actual toy part is a lovely mint green color. A very nice one, with several different speeds used to keep you squirming and whining softly under his touch. Small sighs of “—Sir— please—” and “Ch—Charles—” fall from your lips ever so often, and he even manages to coax a loud moan from your lips, which the chat goes insane about. When you do climax, you don’t even have the where-with-all to try and warn Charles. And he doesn’t even mind, he’s always been happy to just let you chase your own pleasure and highs. 

You whine, slumping against him, feeling him pull the still-vibrating toy from your folds. Your clit is puffy and engorged, and the chat loves to see how you whimper as Charles brushes his fingers through your folds, holding the camera close to give everyone a good view of your still-twitching cunt. 

so pretty now give her another!! Her whines omg Good Girl <3 (€25)  Such a cute little sub Wish i had a dom to take care of me like she does waaaa

Despite himself, Charles smirks, knowing his face is out of view while he gives everyone a good view of your slick heat. The donor who’d been provoking him hadn’t said anything in a while. He grins at every little noise you make, especially with how you whimper at his touches, still sensitive. But you don’t move away— you know you’re safe, and that he’d never do anything to harm you. You have safewords for that exact reason, and you’d never had to use them outside of practice scenarios Charles would make you do just in case. 

He settles the camera back onto its stand, tilting it down so that the stream can also see a bit of himself. He’s shirtless, wearing a pair of gray sweatpants that hang low around his hips. The waistband of his boxers is visible, showing off the V-line of his lower body, and the happy trail of dark brown fuzz that crawls up his torso. 

“Did you like that one, mon chou?” Charles croons, moving so that he blocks the view of the camera, purposefully hiding your pretty face so that you have a bit of time to reposition yourself. “Hmm?”

“Mhm,” your voice is dreamy, and your head lolls uselessly to the side as he strokes your cheek. “S’good…” 

There’s no need for you to call him ‘sir’ at this moment. He doesn’t even really enforce the title, it’s just something that slips out occasionally while he takes care of you. It’s adorable, in all honesty, the way that you talk when he’s truly gotten you into the hazy, carefree state that is your subspace, never so much as raising his voice when talking to you. That’s his brand. That’s your brand. Just a needy sub and soft dom pairing that verged on Charles having an obsession with you cumming and feeling safe while he’s there. 

The rest of the stream goes about as planned. Charles tries a variety of new toys on you, ranging from a dual-purpose clitoral suction toy that doubles as a dildo to vibrating anal beads that you are not much a fan of, but let him try them on you for the sake of experimentation. It all comes to the grand finale of Charles then having you bounce on his lap as you ride his thick cock, your walls clenching around him as you whine and wail out pleas for him. 

“That’s it, mon chou, you’re being so good for me, always so wonderful,” Charles squeezes your waist, guiding you up and down on his lap as you whine out a sound that might be his name. The camera has a wonderful view of your back, zoomed in to specifically see the way he slides in and out of you. Your cream covers his cock. 

You lean against him, your forehead on his shoulder as you gasp and pant. He can feel the way you’re loosely gripping onto his shoulders, not strong enough to scratch his skin, but certainly hard enough to remind him that you were here, if the warm wetness of your cunt somehow didn’t. 

“Where do you want me? Where, mon chaton?” Charles whispers against your head, and he is rewarded by you looking at him with a hazy glance, just for him.

“I-inside,” you whimper, trying to lean against him further, trying to get him to press his face against yours, stopped only by the fact that he needs to keep your face out of frame.

So he gently moves so that both of your faces are out of frame, his stubbled cheek against yours. Thrusts growing more rapid until you clench around him, trying to milk his cock for anything he may give you. He finishes a minute after, twitching inside of you, and breathing hard as he comes down from his high. In the back of his mind, Charles imagines his cum settling in your womb. Making a baby. Seeing you grow round as the months passed, needing help with simple things. Perhaps it would have if it weren’t for your implant and his vasectomy. Just precautions of the trade. 

Gently, he pulls himself from you, still panting. He brings the camera closer, giving the viewers a good look at how his seed trickles from your folds, mixing with your release. 

hot!! Eeeek!! breeding kink breeding kink She’d look so fucking cute all round with a baby Give her a baby!! (€20)

Charles pauses the camera feed for a few minutes, gently wiping at your core with a warm cloth and praising you endlessly as you mewl helplessly. The chat feeds into his little fantasy. He thinks about you as his housewife. Coming home from a normal office job rather than a studio shoot with other people. Kissing the rue flower tattoos on your shoulders lovingly, while his hands come to hold the little bump of your pregnant belly. 

But with a shake of his head, it’s gone. Because that isn’t your relationship with him. So he turns the camera back on with you settled in his lap, wearing a pair of his boxers and one of his hoodies. You’re curled up happily, face nuzzled into his shoulder, hiding everything away from the camera’s view. He can feel you placing almost sleepy kisses on his neck, along with the contented sighs you’re making. 

As is the normal routine, Charles thanks everyone for their donations, while also allowing viewers to make requests in the chat. Answering questions about the little break from any streaming and videos the two of you would normally do. This is usually when more of the donations sweep in, much bigger ones. The notifications are delayed, and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head when he sees one rather large donation come through. 

I’d like to commission something of the two of you. I’ll be reaching out to your business email after the stream, just to ensure that this tip doesn’t bounce. (€800)

It’s the same username as the donor who had dropped €200 earlier in the stream. Part of Charles feels incredibly uneasy over whatever this commission could entail, simply based on the comments they had made in their previous donations. 

But if they had been able to give over €1000 in a single stream…. Which was nearly a third, if not more, of the total donations…

You shift slightly in Charles’ lap, bringing him back to the present. You’re still lost, he can see that by the distant, glazed-over look in your eyes. What you need right now is a good bath, a bottle of water, and something to snack on while he massages the knots from your back. You can talk about the possibility of something like a commissioned video later.

“That’s…. Hm, we’ll have to see about that, won’t we, bébé?” Charles grins, pressing a chaste kiss against your forehead, before bidding farewell to the stream, and turning off the camera. The donations still pour in for another thirty minutes, and that’s when Charles gets the light ping that everything’s done downloading, right as he’s gotten you to finish a bottle of water. He sends it to Max immediately, who’s already gotten the rough outline of how the video should look. Charles will go over to his apartment tomorrow to work on the specifics of what everything should look like, and then send the link to you for final approval to post. Knowing Max, the Dutchman is likely just starting to wake up as the world is going to sleep. He’ll probably have a mockup done just as the sun starts to rise. 

For now, Charles turns his focus to you, watching as you slowly munch on goldfish crackers, as if deep in thought. It’s funny, really, you’re so lost in your thoughts and somewhat spaced out still. But when you look at him, he can see the little grin on your face as he walks over to you. Letting you curl into his embrace.

“You’re all sweaty.”

“Mm. I was fucking you rather hard near the end.”

That makes you giggle, and you look up at him with a mischievous little grin. “You also spanked me.”

“I did.” Charles swallows a bit of his guilt down. “Are you sore?”

“No. It was… just unexpected.” You fiddle with the strings of his sweatpants, and he plays with the hair at the back of your head. It’s domestic and sweet. It could be a scene from the everyday life of any young couple. Charles feels like he’s in the wrong for wishing it was. “It startled me a bit. Nothing bad.”

“Sorry.” 

You just shrug, and let him help you out of the hoodie. With the utmost care, he peels off the tattoo seals. Wipes away the concealer. And helps you into the shower, washing away any of the stubborn bits of makeup that insisted on staying behind. The rue flowers bloom under his touch, and without really thinking, Charles kisses them, his lips trailing around your shoulders and upper arms as if he’s worshiping some idol. 

It’s the most intimate thing someone’s ever done for you. And Charles realizes he may have just crossed a serious line, looking back at you like a deer in the headlights as you stare at him over your shoulder, with a mildly sleepy gaze. His hands start to shake.

“Why’d you stop?” 

The way you tilt your head is sinful. That someone so innocent and willing to give and submit your body to him also looks at him in such a way. Asking such obvious questions when you already know the answer. Entering a relationship because of your shared profession with him could be catastrophic. You both work in such a niche of your industry when it comes to the kinks and roleplays you’re willing to work through that both of you would be screwed if feelings got in the way of your work. 

“Because we shouldn’t take it any further,” 

“What if I want you to?”

Charles nearly chokes on his surprise. The water is still warm around him. Your hair still has the conditioner in it, just soaking on your scalp as you wait for him to help you wash it out. 

“That’s a bad idea. We shouldn’t.”

“But you were just kissing my tattoos.” Your brow furrows. “That’s hardly the porn we normally shoot.”

“It’s—  it’s not about the porn—”

“Then ask me out.” You say it so plainly. As if it’s that easy… and maybe it is. “I like you.”

“What?”

“I like you. You seem to like me.”

“I do like you!” Charles blurts out. And then blushes violently, his pale skin turning a vibrant pink-red as he starts to rinse the conditioner out of your hair, making you turn away from him so he doesn’t get any of it in your eyes. He still feels guilty for spanking you without much warning. “But don’t you think this could be weird—”

“I think it could be nice.” You sigh, leaning into his touch. Entrusting him to put you back together after breaking you apart. “Don’t you?”

He can’t bring himself to speak after that. Drives you home. You watch him from the window of your apartment as the rear lights of his car fade away. 

The moment Charles is out of sight, he goes to Max’s flat. Pounding on the door hard until the disgruntled Dutchman opens up. He can hear Daniel moving around somewhere in the apartment, talking to one of the cats as Charles stands dumbly at the threshold of the happy couple’s home.

“What?”

“I think I’m in love with her,” Charles blurts out, and Max just scowls further.

“Mate, I could have told you that!” Daniel calls from deeper in the house, as Max pulls the panicked man inside, making him sit down in the cozy living room. Max’s computer set up is pushed into the corner, with a cat tower beside the desk. Sassy currently sleeps happily on the highest little bed, while Jimmy weaves through Daniel’s legs as the Australian offers a slice of pizza to Charles. “What finally made you realize?”

“She— she told me to ask her out. Wait— does that count as her asking me out—?” 

Charles’ voice grows more frantic, and his hands go to his hair as he starts to pace in the living room. Both cats watch him go back and forth, while Max settles at his desk, opening the file to start editing. 

“Who cares? Do it. You’ve been making moony eyes at her for the past year of working with her.” Max grumbles, clearly unamused by the drama of it all. 

“We make porn together!”

“So? That’s how I met Max.” Daniel tilts his head, at which point Jimmy does the same. The Monegasque frowns at him. “Didn’t stop us.”

“You’re both gay.”

“Ouch.” Max’s stoic tone is somehow cutting, even when he’s focused on the screen, pulling up the video Charles had sent to him, and then the outline on the other monitor. “I don’t see how that changes anything. The only difference is that I was Daniel’s editor rather than costar.”

Charles flops onto the couch. Daniel just looks down at the man, before looking over his shoulder at his boyfriend. “And how’d you respond?”

“What?”

“How did you respond to her asking you out?”

His face goes blank, and a look of realization dawns on his face. 

“I panicked?”

“How badly?”

“I kept— okay I responded pretty badly,” Charles admits, and then groans right into his hands, rubbing his face in frustration. He keeps thinking about how he’d kissed your tattoos. Had he inadvertently made you feel like you could ask that? Furthermore, were you really, truly asking that, or were you still somewhat caught up trying to be a good sub?

Images of you sleeping in his bed as the morning sun rises conjure up in his mind, followed by cooking together in the kitchen of his flat, and he can’t help but groan angrily at himself for letting such a fantasy with someone who he could call his coworker appear in his mind at this moment. You, smiling up at him with that coy grin on your face as you sit across from him at the cafe, brushing your foot against his shins while sipping at your cup of tea. Your feet up on his lap while reading a book on his couch, pure domestic bliss. 

“Fuuuuck,” Charles just keeps his hands on his face. “She’s gonna hate me.” 

“She’s not going to hate you,” Daniel tries to comfort him. “Just tell her you need time to think about it.”

“No but— I was also sending mixed messages,” he mumbles, and he hears a long, drawn-out sigh from both Max and Daniel. “I was kissing her shoulders. I— I couldn’t help it, I felt bad, I kinda spanked her without warning earlier in the stream—”

“Gross.”

“I know! But this one donor was getting so pissy about how she was responding—”

“I’m sorry, you let someone who was watching and imagining touching her dictate how you were actually touching her?” Daniel raises an eyebrow, and he folds his arms across his chest. “Dude. You’re her dom, not to mention how many times you’ve been with her. Why would you get so possessive then?”

Maybe he is a bit possessive. Last year, during a studio-based shoot when another dom had been too rough with you, using your blindfold to practically drag you around the set, and spanking you much harder than he had originally implied he would, Charles had immediately cut the camera and kicked the man out of the room, not even letting him get dressed. He’d gone straight to your side after that, checking you were okay for nearly an hour before even considering letting the filming start again. 

That had earned him a bit of a reputation as possessive over his subs, you in particular. The lack of collaborations with any other actors certainly hadn’t helped much either, with your last one being with Daniel almost half a year ago, and that one had been a cuckolding video, where he had posed as the husband watching his wife getting fucked and bred by another man, not even touching you throughout the process besides a scripted kiss at the end. 

Now, Charles feels like he is 1.) the stupidest man on planet Earth and 2.) just passed up on an opportunity that you had presented him on a silver platter. He stares up at the ceiling as Daniel looks down at him. Maxis typing away in the corner, and makes a little ‘hm’ noise, likely getting to the part of the stream where he’d spanked you. 

“Wow. That sounded bad. Didn’t leave a mark though,” Max hums, and then starts to type again, before making a much more distressed noise. “No fucking way— Dani! It’s the fucking guy again!”

“Wha— really?” Daniel dashes over to look at the screen while Charles stays on the couch. “Ugh. What a fucking creep.”

That piques some interest.

“What?”

“Yeah— the guy with the weird dono? Total creep. Tried to commission me into some weird, non-con roleplay. Wanted to do a solo stream for just him, totally ignored all of my rules for that stuff, and outright told me to ‘Just suck it up’ when I used the safeword for some of the shit he was saying about me.” Daniel shivers, and for a moment, Max looks like he wants to strangle the man until his boyfriend squeezes his shoulder. Charles's blood runs cold. 

“What?!” Charles looks over the username again. MattiaBinn. “Jesus fucking—Je le tuerai moi-même pour avoir voulu que je fasse une telle chose avec elle—”

“English, Charles.”

“I’ll kill him myself,” Charles growls, and starts to march right towards the door, “I need to talk to her right now—”

“Or maybe we need to give her time to cool down,” Daniel reaches towards him, holding onto his shoulder and pulling him backward. “She probably still needs some space and to take care of herself after the stream, regardless of how much aftercare you did with her.”

Part of Charles hates that Daniel’s right. Another part of him says that no, you should be letting him take care of you. That’s what his job was as your dom, he was supposed to take care of you and make sure you didn’t experience sub-drop. You deserve only the best, and right now he’s not acting like that. Quite frankly, he’s being a bit of a self-righteous prick about his own feelings for you. 

His phone pings with a notification, and out of pure irritation, he considers silencing it, until he sees it’s an email from a frankly disturbing email address. From: Mattia Binotto. Subject: Commissioned Private Stream.

“Oh, putain de merde,” Charles groans, and quickly scans through the email. It’s exactly as Daniel described. Non-con, harsher treatment, and quite honestly, the opposite of nearly everything Charles did as a dom and that you would agree to. Infuriatingly, your business email has also been sent this. You text him not a second after he’s done scanning it.

Did you also get this?

It seems… uhm, interesting. 

Attached is a screenshot of the email. You’re awake, at the very least. Alert enough to be checking your business email. He texts back quickly. 

I’m not doing any of that.

That’s not the shit I do. Fuck.

…okay. 

Sorry, you seem to be in a bad mood. 

It’s not your fault

Please don’t blame yourself for any of this, mon doudou

I kinda feel like it is…

I didn’t mean to push any boundaries or make you upset about this

I am sorry, Charles.

Charles wants to bash his head against the wall because now he feels like utter shit for making you feel guilty about his own stupidity. Just as he’s about to text you back you send him a goodnight text. When Daniel glances at the screen he visibly winces. 

“Yeah. I’d give her some space.”

Space turns into a week. Instead of the normal collab stream, you do a solo one. Charles ends up watching it. You’ve got an array of toys behind you, most pretty pastel colors or swirling abstract designs that make an odd pit settle in his stomach at the idea of them bringing you pleasure rather than him.

You’re currently fucking yourself on a dildo he’d gifted you, shaped like… certain sweet treat. It was meant to be a bit of a gag gift— the name of it was called the banana split, for Christ’s sake— but seeing you fuck yourself on it made him groan, palming the hardness in his pants as you gasped and whined. You were wearing one of his hoodies too, muffling your little noises into the sleeves. And the chat was loving it, encouraging you to keep going. 

And then the fucking donation showed up from that fucking prick Mattia.

Needy little thing. Do you think you deserve to cum? (€50)

The robot voice that read out the message had you whining, and you momentarily pause, before slowly lifting your hoodie to give the cam a better view, showing the slight bulge in your tummy from the toy resting inside of you before you started to bounce up and down on it again, rutting your hips forward as if that could provide some respite for the high you were chasing. 

“Y-Yes—wanna cum—” Your face is hidden, as per usual, just off-screen, but at the very top, he can see how your chin wobbles a bit as if you’re currently panting with an open mouth, “Please please please please—”

Hold it. Not yet. Needy little sluts only get what they need when they’re good. (€50)

Rage bubbles in Charles’ stomach. Who the fuck did this asshole think he was, first of all, calling you a needy slut, and then acting like you were his to take care of. Charles makes a note to ban him from both of your chats as soon as this is over. 

He can tell by your posture that you look startled, and the chat mixed. Some are telling Mattia to fuck off, while others are encouraging you to listen because Charles isn’t there. You whimper, confused, and Charles nearly screams, sprinting to get to his keys while the stream continues on his phone. He knows how insane he must look, having porn very audibly playing on his phone, but he doesn’t care, not as he starts his car and calls you. He can hear the phone in the background of your stream, and you whine even louder, the wet sounds of you fucking yourself on the toy pausing.

“Fuck, doudou, pick up,” Charles groans, his driving becomes more and more reckless as he gets closer to your apartment. “Pick up!”

The sounds of your stream seem to pause, and there’s a rustle as you move, hopefully reaching for the phone and—

Did I say you could do that, slut? Or are you too stupid to listen to directions? (€50)

Charles roars as he hears you let out a pathetic whine, followed by sniffles. How dare Mattia insult you like that, how dare he make you feel unsafe when you should be feeling nothing but safe and loved. He was going to find him. He was going to find whoever this Mattia Binotto was and beat the tar out of him.

“M’sorry— wanna be good—”

“You are good,” Charles’ mouth is dry,  right as he pulls outside the front of your flat, with a half-assed park job that’s likely going to get him a ticket if he stays there until morning. “You’re so good, mon petit doudou, just hold on,”

You’re not being good now. Apologize, you useless little slut. No wonder your dom isn’t here. What a spoiled little sub. (€50)

Charles fiddles with the lock, searching for the spare you’d told him about, hidden under a fake rock right off of your stoop. He opens the door, nearly forgets to close it behind him, and screams out your name as he tears through the kitchen.

Find your biggest toy for me. And show us how badly it hurts. Do it if you want to be good for me (€50)

When he manages to get to your room, you’re startled by his sudden appearance, and so is the chat. There’s a new, much larger toy positioned under you, the tip just brushing against your folds. The first thing that Charles does is cut the camera. The next thing he does is end the stream. A final donation, clearly placed before the stream ended appears on the screen, all the notifications from the tip jar making a discordant melody with your hiccuping sobs and Charles’ panting.

The donation makes him see red.

Fuck yourself. Slow. Let me hear you cry. (€50)

You let out a whimper, shaking, as you sink onto the toy, only to be scooped up by Charles. He doesn’t give a shit that he’s knocking around the toys and is probably making his possessive reputation worse. He’s not going to let you hurt yourself because some fucking pervert got in your head, and he’s furious that you’ve fallen for the same manipulation he did. 

“M’sorry— m’sorry, I wanna be good—”

“You’re so good, tu es si bon pour moi,” Charles croons, rocking you back and forth, holding you close as you cry into his chest. “I’m here. I’m here. You don’t have to do any of that. Let me take care of you.”

It takes nearly thirty minutes to get you to stop crying. You keep your face pressed into his shoulder, shaking as Charles soothes you, humming softly to you. He speaks in French, knowing that you enjoy the way his voice sounds when he speaks it. 

“Can you tell me where you are, Doudou?”

“In my bed,” 

“Wonderful job, so smart for me,” Charles praises, kissing your forehead softly. Your grip tightens on his shirt, and he can feel a small huff of air against his skin when you breathe out. “And what’s my name?”

“Charles. You’re Charles.” You murmur. “How did you get in here…?”

“Spare key.” He shifts so that you can look at him, one of his hands coming to cup your cheek. His thumb brushes under one of your eyes, the skin sticky from tears. “I was… I was watching the stream.”

“Oh.” You lean against his chest, letting him stroke up and down your back. You nuzzle into the collar of the hoodie. Charles presses his nose into your hairline, inhaling your scent, while keeping his lips against your forehead. “So you….saw…”

“He’s banned. It’s the same guy from the commission email.” There’s a hint of rage in his voice, which fades the moment your nose nudges under his chin, dislodging him from your hairline. 

“Thanks.” He can feel the curve of your lips turning into a smile as you nuzzle into him further. “My hero. Taking care of me, even when you’re upset.”

“I’ll always take care of you,” Charles’ voice catches in his throat at the admission, pulling away enough to look down at you. You, smiling up at him with that coy grin on your face, and a sleepy look in your eyes. 

“It could be nice,” You murmur again, shyer than before. “You and me, couldn’t it?”

“I think it could be more than nice,” His lips are so close to yours, enough so that he can feel your breath against them. Charles has been balls-deep in you. Has fucked into you until you cream around his cock and sobbed out his name. But this is quite possibly the most intimate thing he’s ever done with you. “Really, really nice.”

The taste of your lips on his is divine as he holds onto your waist with one hand, and cups your face with the other. You giggle when he pulls away to catch his breath, and before he can even stop himself, he’s grinning and pressing you into the bed, blowing a raspberry against your cheek just to hear your shrill laughter and feel the butterflies in his stomach that appear every time you laugh around him. 

“Mon petit Doudou,” He can’t stop the grin on his face as he kisses all over your face, looking down at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. Your hair is fanning around your head like a halo. Your smile is infectious. And he can see a few blooms from your tattoos under the neckline of your hoodie. His hoodie. “Mine, mine, mine.”

“Yours, yours, yours.” You respond, curling into him happily as the two of you lay in your bed.

[fairsweetlonging]

( ˚❀˳ ) ERROR_FILE_CORRUPT || shen qingqiu (shen yuan) & yue qingyuan

* . ⊹ synopsis. shen qingqui has not been giving the system satisfactory results. it decides to take matters into its own hands. yue qingyuan tries to persuade it otherwise.

notes: @artsarasp this is all your fault

word count: 774

based on this post and this amazing art

The afternoon sunlight trickles ember and gold through the latticed window, soft and bright and warm as it fills the room. In the stillness between them, it feels distant, wavering, like still water disturbed somewhere below the surface where he cannot see.

Hazy steam curls from two teacups set on the low table, pale porcelain gleaming faintly against the dark grain of the wood. It’s an old blend, something light. A favorite. He doesn’t know why that matters. Maybe because this one has never been rejected. Maybe because he’s grasping for something that is no longer there.

On the other side, Shen Qingqiu sits unnervingly still, as if his body has forgotten how to breathe, how to live, his back straight but rigid, like a figure carved from stone rather than a man of flesh and blood. 

When he reaches for the tea, his fingers move with a strange, stilted motion, like a doll whose joints have rusted with disuse, or the rotten wood of a foundation that shakes the house with every gust of wind, about to collapse. As he leans forward, his robes don’t move along; not even a hair falls out of place. 

There is something profoundly wrong about him, as if he’s not even actually there. 

Yet it follows their rituals, to perfection, moving through the steps of their routine as if they were its own; slow sips, remaining silent as they drink, no idle talk, leaving the only sound to be the soft clack of porcelain on wood. 

Yue Qingyuan drinks faster than he would any other time, faster, even, than is proper. It burns the roof of his mouth. There is no need for formalities, not here, not for that thing. 

It is the same face, the same gentle slope of his nose, the curve of his mouth, the raven black hair that lies gracefully along his shoulders, but the eyes… Xiao Jiu’s eyes are blue, all of it, sickly, devoid of life; when he stares into that hollow nothingness, it is almost as if something is staring back at him. 

Yue Qingyuan puts down his cup. His voice is deceptively calm. 

"What do you want."

Something flares in Xiao Jiu’s eyes at the question, almost as if it’s been waiting for this.

When he answers it is not in words, but in a cacophony of metallic hollow sounds that reverberate through the back of his mind.

【 this system does not ‘want’ for anything. this system is tasked with helping user002 create a good story 】

It doesn’t even bother opening Xiao Jiu’s mouth as it speaks, keeping that same, placid smile on his face. Somewhere, Yue Qingyuan is glad for its lack of trying—it never seems able to match its movements to the words quite right.

【 your interference caused a plot-divergence too difficult for him to fix. so this system has taken over 】

It’s said that before, when they first caught on, back then, when they thought it was only a matter of time before they had driven the creature out. User. Plotlines. Story. Protagonist. He interfered with something, poked the sleeping bear where he should have let it lay. He doesn’t know when. He doesn’t even know what he did.

But Shen Qingqiu cannot be the only one, not with how the system speaks about him; the number two insinuates the existence of a user one, like how nine insinuates there is a seven. 

Yue Qingyuan isn’t sure he wants to know whether user two has come with user one, or after him.

Despite his diligent studies, his upbringing to become the future sect leader, Yue Qingyuan isn’t that well read, not in these kinds of stories, anyway—in stories with protagonists and heroes and villains, the kinds that have overarching themes and conflicts. 

But he knows that though audiences are fickle, they are also easily entertained. After all: the worst crime of a character is not his flaws, it’s being boring. He's heard Shang Qinghua speak of it often enough, how audiences care very little for the quality, but will sing the praises of any story that manages to keep their attention. 

Perhaps there is a different way to keep their invisible audience entertained.

"Does… does it have to be Xiao Jiu?" His fingers curl to fists beneath the cover of his wide sleeves, grasping the fabric until his knuckles turn white. Please. Please, just this once, let him do something right. "Could someone else create this story?"

The system blinks. 

【 someone like –yue qingyuan–? 】

He nods.

【 calculating… 】

Xiao Jiu shakes his head.

【 perhaps the next story… 】

[traumatrios]

the name of the game

pairing… dodge mason x fem!reader

wc… 2.3k

summary… you don’t talk to strangers— but there’s something different about dodge. was it his charm? his looks? or the way you couldn’t get him off of your mind?

warnings… ends in smut, face riding, drinking (not drunk sex), iconic red cowboy boots, brief pain pleasure, dodge is soooo delusional

josie’s notes! um i kinda don’t remember how panic ended for dodge (i finished it a week ago) so take the beginning plot with a grain of salt

otherwise enjoy my lovelies ❤️

Dodge didn’t have many friends to begin with, but with most of the kids his age out of Cape and attending college, he did feel quite lonely. 

He’s not a stranger to the fact that college wasn’t in the cards for him– he had too many responsibilities. He knew his sister could very much take care of herself, but lazy Sunday’s on the couch next to her was where his heart truly belonged. 

His mother needed help managing the restaurant, because as much as she prided herself for her hardworking motherhood and independence, he saw the breath of relief she had whenever he was there.

He was perfectly fine as a blue collar working adult. What did he need college for anyway? It was too expensive, especially after the necessary but monetarily disappointing ending to Panic. He was too old to apply now.

Dodge took his time off of working at his bar to nurse the foam of a beer from another in a neighboring town. 

Was this really what his future was? He was dangerously nearing a seat in the same boat as the men surrounding him in the ambience of the dive bar: old (21) with a family at home (he was unattached with a sister and a single mother 5 minutes away from his apartment). 

Dodge might as well accept it; this was his destiny.

But the glimmer of fate came to him through a vision he wasn’t sure whether he was imagining from the wild dreams in his head or the material of a Playboy magazine. 

The mechanical bull sitting in the middle of the recreational space of the bar with a pretty girl attached to its saddle.

Dodge couldn’t tell if you were a saddle bronc rider (like himself) or just intensely familiar with your hips. You rode the mechanical bull like it was a kids bicycle with training wheels.

But with how you grinded against the fur of the mechanical bull with the rhythm it was bucking, he landed on the latter.

It was entrancing to look at, he admitted. The winks you sent into the collecting audience only strengthened his hopes of getting one shot at him. 

The mechanics continued to whir and spin you around, pathetic attempts to throw you off of the attraction you were obviously very skilled at riding. Have you been here before? Has he just never noticed you?

How could he never notice you.

Before he knew it, Dodge was leaning against the inflatable rim of the attraction, eyes wide in awe of your performance. One hand gripped the braided rope attached to the nape of the bull’s neck whilst the other waved in the air freely to your girlfriends, who had been screaming your name in the same way Dodge heard it yelled by paparazzi during award shows his sister watched on the weekends through the television.

The moderator of the attraction seemed just as impressed as anyone else watching you, even holding the twinge of suspicion some kept in the quirk of their brow. A crowd eventually formed around your performance, whistling and cheering you on as the meat of your calves squeezed the sides of the bull’s stomach.

Dodge thinks he heard a “yee haw!” come from the intoxicated group of guys (no younger than 30) stuffed in a booth attached to the wall facing your ass.

Bright digits flashed on the screen beside the control booth, announcing the new high score of Big Star Bar. 2 minutes and 36 seconds.

As you unmounted the artificial bull, Dodge didn’t pull his eyes away from you like the rest of the crowd did. You weren’t a one hit wonder, he had to know your secrets. What was a girl with hips like yours doing in a random dive bar in Texas?

Dodge wasn’t sure how to approach you, especially after losing you in the crowd of girls in identical cowboy hats and guys in flannel. He was lucky enough to skin his eyes over the bar and spot your sparkling red boots tapping and gliding against the dingy dance floor.

The boy filed through the crowd until the heat in the air turned from heavy to sweaty dance floor heavy. 

Dodge scanned the horseshoe— painted? —on the back of your jean jacket and how it paired with your cowboy boots. It felt like something out of a movie, seeing your outfit.

“This your first rodeo?” he greeted, though from his stance behind your back, he wasn’t surprised by the small jump in your shoulders. But when you turned around, you were just as beautiful up close than you were on that damn bull. Dodge noticed the thick pieces of glitter scattered across your collarbone and how it seemed to match with the other girls in your party.

“Sorry. I don’t talk to strangers,” you shrugged, offering Dodge a friendly smile in apology.

Your gaze didn’t even falter or scan him, just unwaveringly looking him in the eye before you turned around again to chat with your friends. 

“Aren’t those the most fun to talk to though?” Dodge tried, and god did it form a pit in his stomach to feel like one of those guys that pushed for a girl's attention— a bad guy.

This got you to turn back around again.

Truthfully, his looks were hard to deny; especially with that ivory colored cowboy hat on his head. Otherwise, he wore a navy tee with a pair of dark jeans and black boots; the simplest thing ever. 

One hand was stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, the other tapping its digits against the sweaty glass of a bottle of beer. 

“Do you really wanna talk? Grandma taught me that boys like you never want to just talk.” 

Dodge couldn’t fight against that, not confidently at least. He knew he didn’t want to just talk, but he also didn’t know what else he’d want to do. Is this what being in limbo felt like?

You gave Dodge the grace of a second before pointing an eyebrow at him and turning again, only this time walking off with your friends to a different corner of the bar.

Dodge was too stubborn to talk growing up, and in this moment— and only this moment —did he curse himself for doing so.

In Cape, everyone was a regular. 

It didn’t matter where you went or with whom, you were known better than the alphabet.

When Dodge came into town, he became a regular. In most places, at least.

He knew you weren’t from Cape because you weren’t a regular here. Which is why he was surprised to see the same red heels he’s been dreaming about since the weekend stroll into the establishment he worked in.

You knew what you were doing, of course. You knew about Dodge Mason because Gina knew about Dodge Mason, and she knew about Dodge Mason from her boyfriend Daniel.

That’s how you got here, wasn’t it? But, Dodge didn’t need to know that.

He didn't need to know how your girlfriends teased you for playing hard to get or how you began sweating just from looking into his piercing eyes.

And when those piercing eyes caught the sight of the painted horseshoe on your back, he thought it must be my lucky day.

As you sat at the bar, Dodge couldn’t think of any other way to praise whatever god trailed you in here rather than repeating the same ‘thank you’s in his head.

“Evening, lucky,” he coined the nickname from the symbol. You fought a smile at his wit, instead rolling your tongue along the flesh of your lip. 

“I’m sorry, do I know you sir?”

Dodge chortled at your act, but your face stood unwavering. Your tits looked perfect while pressed against the bar, but Dodge managed to pull his eyes a little higher to see the small tick in your neck signaling your so-called ‘confusion’.

You must’ve not liked his silence, because you picked up the silence with a small sigh and your order.

“May I have a shirley temple with just a dash of lime juice, please?” you batted your eyelashes at the unconvinced boy, being met with the playful roll of his eyes. 

Despite himself, Dodge began to concoct your beverage. You were strange, he thought. Where did you come from? Were you visiting? Would he see you again if nothing came from this conversation? How would he be sure?

He had to make sure this one counted, not like that pathetic excuse of conversation at the bar. The clicking of your nails rippling against the waxed bar behind his back mimicked the ticking clock– he might as well shoot a shot. Perhaps it was an easy target, especially with his luck sprawled against your back. 

“Did your grandma also teach you these manners?” Dodge planted the highball in front of your impatient hands. You took a look at the glass, then him, then to the glass again, where your eyes stayed as you tasted the drink. The sugar spreads across your tongue, satisfying its parched state.

“I still don’t talk to strangers,” you said, but the smirk that played on your face told Dodge something different. Your game wouldn’t fool him, not when you drop it just as limp as that. Did you want him like he wanted you?

You two weren’t strangers, no, he knew you were meant for something more. 

“So you admit to it,” he turned his head from the focus on your drink, only to catch your face hot with guilt. He chuckled to himself at your game.

“We ain’t strangers. This is our second meeting, perhaps fate is sending a message?” God, when did Dodge Mason become so sappy? He was grasping at the ends of a rope he wasn’t sure you were on the other end of.

But then you smiled. You smiled and twirled the skinny black straw around the ice of your drink. “And what message would that be?” you challenged.

Dodge leaned his elbows on the dark oak of the bar. He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue before his proposal, or rather, ‘the message’. “You should come home with me tonight.” He kept it at that; simple and charming. 

You giggled like a schoolgirl at his confidence. By the looks of it, he had been a lustful young adult, admittedly like you, with maybe a studio apartment. Your mind could only think of one thing he planned to do if you accepted the invitation, and you knew it wasn’t puzzles and lemonade. 

Were you opposed? Not entirely. 

“And what would this night entail? What do I get from entering your home? You gon’ drive me home after?” You matched his stance, leaning forward on the folded elbows you stuck to the waxy countertop. Dodge felt a stream of intimidation flow through his veins at the way you pointed your eyebrow at him.

“Might have to come to find out,” he replied, swiping his tongue over the toothpick that hung from his mouth. You couldn’t restrain your eyes from flickering down to the pair of lips. 

You were sure the sharp metal of his handle left a burning mark when he pushed you against it in the barren hallway of his apartment building. But with the incessant kissing of his lips distracting your mouth– and eventually everything else –it didn’t matter much to you anymore.

Your frame had been stripped of all fabric, laying in addition to his in the ratty hamper dejected in the corner of his room. Soon enough, he was insisting on a third round to cure the burdens of his barren tongue.

“Wanna see how you ride up close, baby,” he reasoned through a hushed tone, kissing the clammy skin of your temple.

How could you refuse? Especially when his hands began to rub those soothing circles into your hips and the tip of his tongue licked the shell of your ear during the whisper.

When he was prodding his tongue into your entrance a few minutes later, you knew it was the right decision to follow him out of the door. With your tits bouncing underneath the warm light thrusting through the ceiling of the sauna he called his room, Dodge took it upon himself to bruise your skin of this (rather heated) interaction through two large grips of his hands on your ass whilst you fucked his face. 

Dodge’s curious tongue soon turned into a hungry one, accompanied by the brief scraping of his teeth against the puffy lips of your pussy. The small bumping of his skull against the wooden headboard spurred him on rather than slowed him down, and you hoped the string of moans and mewls coming from your mouth were enough gratitude to satisfy his desires.

Due to popular demand– a loose request that fell in pieces from Dodge’s dumbstruck position underneath you –you wore his cowboy hat, glaze sticking from your hairline onto the weaved material. Dodge didn’t mind, in fact, he reveled in the thought of that same sweat mixing with his own during a rodeo. Dripping down his face just like how the sudden flood of your sweet juices were coating the stubble on his chin and the point of his nose. 

Dodge lived up to his word the morning after, tapping the ends of his fingers against the leather of the steering wheel to the tune of Bruce Springsteen’s voice singing “Glory Days” from the beaten up radio of Dodge’s Cadillac. Summers' heat wavered through the air of Cape even when Dodge drove past the speed limit on a lonely road. 

When you arrived at the doorstep of your grandmother's house, Dodge didn’t worry about the possibility of seeing you again, only admiring the way you swayed your hips and clicked your heels against the pavement during your strut. The corners of his lips pulled up into something that was not quite a smirk. 

He liked how your game was turning out.

traumatrios, 2024

divider by @saradika-graphics !

[jwnzlvr]

just take it

pairing : boxer!nishimura riki x reporter!fem reader

summary : you asks stupid questions, you get very interesting answers! or, riki gets sick of your shit and he definitely lets you know.

wc : 2.4k

warnings : SMUT (mdni), noncon/dubcon themes, p in v, pwp (very light plot tbh), unprotected sex (don’t do that folks!), light edging and overstim, choking, light slapping, squirting, fingering, (slight) degradation, not proofread!, DON’T LIKE, DON’T READ (i will be promptly blocking anyone who doesn’t like and does read.)

notes : everyone say thank you ash (@gyaruoriki go read her fics !) for the idea love ur big sexy brain mmmm !!! i wrote this at midnight while thinking abt this cute guy i saw at work who had just come out of the gym wearing bandages MHMM scrumptious. anyways, yall enjoy <3

seeing riki high off his adrenaline, eyes filled with pure determination and rage did something to you. you’d heard from other sources that riki was competitive and winning his matches was always something important for him. however, you never really understood just how strong this competitiveness was until you saw him in the ring.

sweat mixed with blood dripped down his face. the bruises on his torso were indicators of how well this round was going. not good at all. according to riki, this was all YOUR fault. every time that you were a part of the audience of a match always ended in him losing. it’s been loss after loss for him lately.

‘how important could that stupid article be for her to ruin my fucking matches?’ riki would ask himself. definitely not important enough to cause him yet another loss tonight. his opponent managed to catch him off guard, throwing a punch straight to his gut. the impact made riki fold over, his hand on his stomach and a bit of blood being coughed up.

“fuck this…” he mumbled as he tried to get back up but his body decided to give out on him completely. you watched in disappointment as riki fell to the floor of the ring. the referee counted to ten, officially making riki the loser of this round and the match.

white noise filled riki’s ears and only one thing was on his mind: you. you, the one who seems to be like bad luck to him. you, the one who can’t seem to shut the fuck up. you, who always asks the worst questions at the worst times. like now. because for some reason, you thought it’d be real smart to follow him into the locker room and ask an angry, upset riki “so, how do you feel about this being your fourth loss this season?”

the simple sound of your voice made him want to punch you in the face. or stick his dick into it. he wasn’t too sure yet.

riki stared at you in disbelief. he scoffed before turning to look at anything else but you. “are you serious right now?” he asked, his fatigue dripping into his voice. “well, it’s an actual question i need to make.” you retorted, notepad and pen in your lap.

“it’s an actual question? okay. i’m pissed off. i never lose but it seems ever since you started showing up here, you just ruined shit for me. what are you even writing about on that stupid fucking notepad? are your articles even important? what do you even write about?” his frustration was absolutely evident. you thought for a second before answering him. “illegal boxing. underground boxing. and no, it’s not my fault you’ve been losing. that’s very much your problem. i’m just doing my job. it’s really not my fault you can’t handle a simple loss.”

your words set something off inside of riki. something beyond anger, beyond wanting to rock your shit. something dark. you’d really fucked up by now.

‘fuck it.’ he thought to himself before he grabbed you by the arm. “what are you-“ “shut the fuck up.” he cut you off as he threw you to the floor, immediately caging you between him and the cement under you. you couldn’t even react from how fast everything had happened. one second you were on a chair and the other you were on the floor with riki’s breath against your lips.

being in this position made riki realize how attractive you really were. sure, he hated your guts but he admitted from the start that you were hot. he knew eventually he’d try to get you alone to fuck you but he didn’t think it would be right now. or that it’d be under these circumstances.

you shook under him, you didn’t know from what. fear? shock? one look into his eyes told you everything you needed to know of his intentions with you. they held an eerie darkness to them. it shook you to your core. riki didn’t give you more time to think but hiking up your skirt, revealing your plush thighs to him. he grinned at the sight of your stockings and your panties. how cute.

“fuck, you have no idea how long i’ve been wanting to do this to you… coming into my space just to ruin shit. just made me wanna fuck that stupid smile off your face. want me to do that? actually, who cares what you want. i think i deserve at least this as a reward for you ruining my winning streak.” he smirked as he ripped your stockings off of you along with your panties.

you whimpered at how aggressive he was being. your hands immediately tried to wrap around his forearms. it seemed you forgot riki was probably ten times stronger than you, and he showed this by promptly releasing your grip on him and using one hand to push both your arms above you.

“really? do you actually think you can get me off of you?” riki’s grin widened. you felt a shock of fear down your spine. he was having fun. he was about to do something disgusting, yet he was having fun.

you couldn’t even move around as he was on top of you, his weight holding you down. “what do you want?” your voice came out in a tremble. riki only looked you up and down before answering.

“revenge. and a little fun.”

revenge? for making him lose? this was a new level of petty for you. and the way he was getting his revenge was definitely not your favorite. riki used his hands to pry apart your thighs, immediately getting a negative response from you. you didn’t even get to say anything to him before he reached his hand back up and slapped you across the face.

“don’t fucking complain. just take it.”

his thigh was slotted in between yours, putting some pressure on you with it. you tried your best to not show an expression of pleasure to him. you couldn’t let him know you enjoyed the slight pressure on you. your clit twitched at the feeling of his shorts against you.

he slotted his hand in between where his thigh was and your heat. his fingers traced around for a bit before finding your clit. he smirked as he rolled it between his fingers. he had fun watching you try to not whine at the feeling of him playing around with you.

he gave a dark chuckle at the sight before him. “i know you’re enjoying this, baby. i can feel you getting wet.” and he was right, your pussy beginning to get damp. you refused to give into his actions thought. “fuck you!” you yelled, trying to move but only making it worse for yourself.

riki decided he had enough of your brattiness and pinched your clit as punishment. you yelped at the bit of pain followed by some pleasure. your pleasure was promptly taken away when riki gave another pinch, this time hard enough to make you almost tear up.

“fuck me? gladly.” he gave a fake smile as he took his thigh back from between you. his hand immediately made its way back to between your thighs. you didn’t even get to do or say anything before two of his long fingers slipped inside of you. you couldn’t bite back that moan, letting riki know that felt good to you.

no. no, it shouldn’t feel good. but with each curl of riki’s fingers you felt your defense falling some more. his thumb grazed over your clit occasionally, making you clench on his fingers. riki knew you were starting to enjoy it and it was evident on how his fingers started to thrust in and out of you with more force than you’ve felt.

he watched as you whined, trying to deny it felt good but your body couldn’t lie. you were gushing on him and you knew it. you felt your high getting close. your hips moved on his fingers automatically as you got closer and closer.

you could taste your orgasm coming, just a few more thrusts from riki and you’d come undone. unfortunately for you, riki decided to torture you a bit. he slipped his fingers out of you just as you were about to cum. you let out a pathetic whine at the loss of contact, riki only grinning before sticking his fingers in his mouth to taste you. he hummed at your taste.

“what’s wrong? i thought you didn’t want me to touch you?” his voice dripped of fake sympathy. now he was acting like he gave a damn what you wanted. you shook your head. your head was so hazy, you didn’t even know what you wanted anymore. all you knew is you needed to cum. no matter what.

you whined at his words. “i changed my mind…” you wanted to cry at how he edged you. “just let me cum, please.” you almost begged him. that was more than enough for riki. he finally properly lifted your skirt, getting a good look at you. he then pushed his shorts and boxers down, revealing his hard cock. precum dripped from it, making your pussy clench.

he saw as your hole clenched and grinned ever so bigger. he let his middle finger graze over your wet hole. “you like looking at my dick, baby? want it in you?” he teasingly asked. you could only nod at him. you needed him in you. riki sighed exaggeratedly at your reaction. “well, i guess i can’t leave you hanging… if you’re good for me, i’ll even cum in you. you want that?”

you felt yourself drool at the idea of being stuffed with cum. it was crazy how you went from wanting riki off of you to making him cum inside you. you felt insatiable. “yes, cum in me. want you all in me!” you cried.

he silently gave his cock a few strokes before sliding into you. your jaw dropped at the feeling of you being stretched on his dick. it was so thick with a good length, it felt perfect. he went slowly as to let you feel every inch of him. after what felt like an eternity, you felt his hips press against you.

he let out a low groan at how tight and warm you were. “god, this pussy feels so good. you like having my cock in you, hm?” he moaned at the feeling of you clenching around him. there’s his answer. you let out whimpers at the feeling of him being so deep. his tip was hitting straight into your spot, the slightest movement making you want to scream in pleasure.

his hips began to slowly thrust in and out of you. the drag of his cock in your walls made you see stars and you couldn’t help but grind on him. he felt satisfaction at seeing you be a hot mess for him. “yeah, you like that…” his thrusts gradually got a bit faster, a continuous fap fap fap being heard across the locker room.

“nghh riki…” you whined as his cock was digging into you. it was heaven on earth for you. riki finally let go of your arms after a while. you moved them to wrap around his neck, your hands tugging on his hair. a low groan escaped his throat at your actions. his now free hand made its way to your neck, wrapping around it and giving a small squeeze.

you gasped at his hand around your neck. “you’re such a good girl for me, ya know? can just fuck you whenever i want and how i like. so good…” he praised as his thrusts got harsher. and for the first time that night, he leaned in to give you a kiss. it was so messy, teeth clashing and tongues dancing but it was perfect.

his hand squeezed your throat a bit tighter, making you feel woozy. his other hand went to squeeze your left tit, satisfied at how soft it felt even when you still had your shirt and bra on. the lack of oxygen made you needier and more desperate to cum. riki knew this when you began to clench around him.

“fuck, gonna cum? cum whenever you want, i said i couldn’t leave you hanging.” he gave you a hazy smile. his brain was completely fogged up. he couldn’t formulate a thought other than fucking you. he was just as out of it as you.

you felt your pleasure from before building up, trying to give riki a warning. “cu- ‘m cumming!” your words sounded choked but he knew exactly what you were trying to say. he didn’t give you a verbal response. he only gave your throat the hardest squeeze he could without hurting you. “cum for me, baby.”

that was enough for you to release all over him, your release hitting his thighs. he kept fucking you as you came, watching in awe as you squirted all over him. he finally let go of your throat and let you catch your breath as you came down from your high.

“did i fuck you that good? such a dirty girl f’ me.” he groaned as he felt himself get close to his release. he ignored your cries of overstimulation as he kept fucking you. “since you were so good, you get my cum. are you happy, baby?” he asked.

you gave him an eager nod, trying to ignore how overstimulated you were for him. “so happy, want you to cum in me. please, riki!” you moaned loudly. that was enough for riki to start painting your walls white. his head was thrown back as he released into you. you enjoyed the feeling of riki cumming in you, moaning softly at the sensation. you clenched around him to try and milk him for everything he had.

you laid on the floor with riki flopping next to you, both of you guys’s chests heaving. you were trying to catch your breath but it felt almost impossible. riki finally turned to look at you.

“you make me lose again and i’ll only be meaner to you.” he warned.

you took it as a challenge to distract him in his next match.

[neo--queen--serenity]

The Black Butler revival will, of course, in this day and age, be the complete embodiment of pro-ship vs. anti-ship discourse, given the subject matter.

But for those of you who are watching this for the first time in 2024 (which includes myself!), there are certain things about the show you simply must understand, for the sake of media literacy.

The first is that Black Butler is supernatural gothic romanticism at its core. This genre alone should tell you that the relationships integral to the plot will be complex, messy, and toxic, by default. That is not only a huge part of this genre’s appeal, but very much the point of the story.

The themes are dark, the terrible things that happen to the main characters are dark, and therefore the relationships at the forefront (and in the background) will reflect that.

The gothic genre has been alluringly popular for over a century (longer, if you know your history) because audiences are entranced by the macabre, the tainted antiheroes, the monsters who live inside us all. It’s popular for a reason.

That being said, understand that whether you, the viewer, ship Sebastian and Ciel or not is irrelevant. Their bond doesn’t need to be understood as romantic or sexual, but it sure as hell isn’t normal. It isn’t healthy. And the audience knows that. That’s the draw. It’s what makes them compelling to watch.

Ciel and Sebastian’s relationship mirrors many gothic novels, poems, and penny dreadfuls written in the Victorian Era (the very same time period in which Kuroshitsuji takes place). The Victorian folks who read these tales for the first time ate that shit up, because it was tantalizing. It was shocking. It was inappropriate, and monstrous, and violent, and erotic, and went against societal norms. But that was the point.

A huge part of gothic romanticism is the blatant sexualization of the relationship between the “monstrous” characters and their human counterparts in the story. Sex itself doesn’t need to take place for their bond to be sexually charged. The forbidden nature of their relationship—which typically involves layers of social taboos, moral ambiguity, or simple infatuation—is what makes their interactions erotic. Sexual contact rarely ever actually happens in these stories. It’s the taboo nature of their bond that creates the tension.

One of the many reasons audiences love this genre is the constant question of morality in its themes. Who, between them, is the real monster? Could the human character have ever been saved? This genre is often associated with tragedy, because the bond forged between the characters in these stories are destined to end in death and destruction. The reader knows it can’t end any other way. How can it?

But an integral element of these gothic tales is the catharsis that comes with this tragedy. The corrupted human often gets what they want in the end, even if it’s at the cost of their own life. Whether they regret their choice to foster this monstrous relationship varies on the story, but it doesn’t change the trajectory of their descent.

Sebastian and Ciel’s relationship is the whole plot of Black Butler. Their closeness bears a grotesque ick factor, but it is deliberate. It is a constant reminder of how unnatrual their bond truly is. Rationalizing or watering down how abnormal they are about each other misses the point entirely. They will never have a normal, healthy relationship, and that’s what moves the plot forward.

That’s why you’re watching it.

[blueiight]

theres this quote running around from jacob anderson where he talks about how historically black people have been removed from period dramas and how, as suggested by the interviewer (w/ blueiight embellishment ofc), the very few times black charas would show up in these period pieces theyd be side characters delegated to a raceblind narratively incoherent plot to placate an audience ashamed with / of the nuances of blackness. i rly like how he said louis’s character represents both a ‘black and very human story about a vampire… [Black people] do not usually have the opportunity to play such complex and fluent characters’. i think that brings to heart a lot of why this show has my heart, as an armchair historian and r.n. (dont ask what that stands for). u racebent characters in a way that coheres, situate ur black characters in a specific context, and the story never deludes us into thinking the mere existence of an interracial relationship is enough to end racism. in e2 louis literally says “fledgling sounds like slave, dont call me that” and e3 starts with louis telling lestat the history of dismembering runaway enslaved ppl & placing their bodies on the gates of of jackson square.. in his initiation to vampirism, louis is moved from the historically Black creole treme area he grew up in & is placed into lestat’s townhome in the very white, french, old quarter. vampirism as hes initiated into is a loving, powerful, cruel, and isolating existence for louis. bc of vampirism he is able to kill a racist person and not be lynched for it, hes able to echo the historical dismemberment on the alderman by placing his body on the st louis cathedral, but he is unable to kill racist groups & systems that initiate race riots. his connection to claudia in s1 is not so much by the oedipal, but by both their connection as lestat’s fledglings and as Black [creole] people placed in a part of the city largely alien to them both. this connection can be broken down even further. louis saw claudia as his joychild of sorts, ‘[his] redemption’ for his 5 years of pimping but a big part of her tragedy is that a child being made into a vampire cannot redeem anyone, much less redeem an individual from what was a historical inevitability. claudia is adopted into such a stature that she wouldve otherwise never reached by virtue of being made a vampire, but even then that is conditional. claudia is rendered inert from being anyone’s ‘wife’ forever trapped in the confines of immaturity as a ‘daughter’, only hoping at best to be louis’s ‘sister’ and isnt that resonant to bw.. she’s selectively infantilized both a child ‘meddling in the affairs of her parents’ , ungrateful, arrogant, and adultified - presumed powerful enough to ‘poison louis against [lestat]’ , taking on the role of louis’s ‘knight in vengeful white black’ .. the response lestat has to claudia is characterized by him continuing the cycle of abuse he once faced toward her and with a black claudia who was once a poor girl now adopted into this immortal luxury it takes on a racialized element. “bach is beyond you” and claudia bites back with “yes this french music is hmm. not made for these mongrel ears”. the absence of metaphor is striking!! literally the fact that this show does not shy away from the era its set in is why its so good.

[auggieblogs]

nsfw | mdni | oscar piastri x fem! reader | smut with no plot?

Author's note: Sooooooo, my first time writing smut, an unexplored territory for a reason. I had to proofread this multiple times because I have no idea how sex works in real life😁🙏🏼. Will I do this again? Probably. If I get a good enough prompt but I’m definitely more comfortable writing the pg13 stuff. Anyways I am going to kms if y’all don’t like it. Happy reading, loves<3

ALSO AGAIN, MDNI!!!! THIS CONTENT IS NOT SUITABLE FOR ALL AUDIENCES.

―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist

He lay back against the plush pillows, his breath catching in his throat as you straddled his hips. Your hair cascaded around your shoulders, framing your face perfectly. His hands rested on your waist, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips.

"You look incredible," he murmured, his hands moving to grip your hips, guiding you as you slowly sank down onto him.

A moan escaped your lips as he filled you, stretching you in a delicious way. You paused for a moment, savouring the sensation of him deep inside you, your hands braced against his chest. Oscar's grip tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he struggled to hold back.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, his voice rough with need.

You began to move, rolling your hips in slow, deliberate circles, feeling every inch of him. Oscar's eyes were glued to your breasts, watching them bounce and sway with each movement. His hands left your hips, one moving to grasp your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

"Oscar," you moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders for support as you rode him, your movements becoming more erratic. The way he looked at you, only fueled your desire. You leaned forward, giving him an even better view, your breasts swaying dangerously close to his face.

He leaned up, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking and licking in a way that had you crying out, your fingers threading through his hair to hold him close. The combination of his mouth on your tits and his cock thrusting deep inside you was enough to drive you wild.

"Fuck, Oscar," you gasped, your head falling back as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

You sped up your movements, riding him harder, faster. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixed with your moans and his grunts of pleasure. You could feel the pressure building inside you, your body tightening with each thrust.

He reached up, pulling you down into a searing kiss as he thrust up into you harder. The change in angle hit just the right spot, sending you spiralling over the edge.

“Oscar,” you whimpered, feeling your climax approaching.

“I’m close too, baby,” he panted, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you were sure you’d have bruises in the morning.

With one final thrust, you both fell over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you with a force that had you rolling your eyes and screaming his name. Oscar followed right behind, his own release triggering a low, guttural moan from deep in his chest.

You collapsed onto his chest, both of you breathing heavily, your bodies slick with sweat. Oscar’s hands moved gently over your back, soothing as you both came down from your high.

“Fuck, that was incredible,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You smiled, lifting your head to look at him. “You’re incredible,” you replied, kissing his lips softly.