#the tabs feel so soft to run your hands over

[littelovelunette]

vi x virgin reader, they meet at a bar and decide to go home and have sex, but reader doesn’t tell vi she’s a virgin, and gets extremely nervous during the act, so she doesn’t talk to vi and tell her what feels good. reader fakes an orgasm to get out of the situation, but vi can tell, so she asks her what’s wrong, and reader bursts out crying, explaining everything, and vi is so gentle and understanding, they have sex again, and this time there’s more communication and video makes reader feel super comfortable and safe, and afterwards there’s sweet aftercare and they fall asleep together

Fake It

Contains alcohol intoxication, smut, faking orgasm, fingering, first time reader, nipple play, clit play, praising, aftercare

You’re not the loudest in the room, nor the quietest, but something about you draws Vi's attention.

Maybe it’s the way you carry yourself—like you belong here but don’t at the same time.

Or maybe it’s the fact that you just turned down some guy who got too close, brushing him off with an effortless ease that makes Vi’s smirk return.

Curious, she leans forward, pushing off the bar and making her way toward you with the kind of confidence that doesn’t need to be forced.

"You always this good at scaring off idiots, or am I just lucky enough to catch the show tonight?" Vi’s voice is smooth but edged with amusement as she leans a little too close, resting a tattooed arm on the counter beside you.

She smells faintly of whiskey and gunpowder, like trouble wrapped in leather, but there’s something else too—something almost... inviting. Like a challenge you didn’t know you were interested in until now.

you both were all over the place kissing and making out, saliva running down vi's chin as she messily made out with you, grabbing your thigh and wrapping it around her waist, oh that beautiful waist

you moaned a little in the kiss and that was all vi needed to hear. throwing some cash at the bartender to cover both of your tabs, vi dragged you out of the bar and into a small apartment. it was nothing much but enough of to fuck at.

that was the intention anyway.

vi pushed you against the wall, scarred lips finding their way on the sensitive skin of your neck as her expert hands worked onto undo the zipper of your dress, smirking a little once she saw your breasts clad with a black lacy bra, "nice bra, dolly. who you thought you were gonna impress?" vi teased

"hopefully you." you grinned and winked a little making vi chuckle, she unhooked it and let it fall towards the slowly increasing pile of clothes on the ground

her hands found their way around tits as she palmed them, "nice and soft," she whispered and bent down to suck on one of your nipple

"oh shit vi that's good," you whispered letting her suck on your tits as you ran your fingers through her hair lazily, mouth agape and head thrown back

vi bit down on your nipple making you gasp a little, she hooked her fingers around your panties and pulled them down, "oh you're so wet for me..." vi scooped up some of your wetness with a finger and tasted you, smiling at the taste of your arousal

vi gestured you to lay down on the bed and so you did a strange nervousness like never before starting to fill your chest

"you look so beautiful like this," vi licked two fingers before she traced your folds with them "you ready for me doll ?"

"m-mhm," you said with a little uncertainty that didnt go unnoticed but since you had consented vi presumed it was okay to proceed

her slender fingers dipped inside your slit starting to move slowly making you feel several emotions at once and that's when you realised, you had never really been able to make yourself cum and whenever you watched porn before, you've seen the women squirt and cum so easily when sexually stimulated, that made you wonder what if you were the problem.

masking your inner turmoil, you let out a soft moan when vi's thumb found your clit gently rubbing it and pressing it, the pressure sure was delicious but then you wondered why you didn't feel the 'knot in your lower tummy' like you read in eroticas and young adult books

you wrapped your arms around vi and put your head over her shoulder so she wouldn't be able to see your face as her fingers continued their ministrations, "vi it feels so good," you whispered over her shoulder

your words were true of course... but you just didn't know when was the right time to cum or when you're supposed to, you've never ever had an orgasm in your life, you're torn and overwhelmed now- what should you do, you thought but nothing really came to your mind

i think i should just fake it

"vi i think im gonna cum," you whispered and whined as vi's fingers got faster then, her thumb pressing harder against your clit as she drove her fingers deeper making you gasp a little at the intensity

you pretended that you came, body tensing up and all breath hitching and pussy clenching around her digits before you let your limbs fall back down, back flat against the mattress

vi furrowed her eyebrows, "darling." she started and that made your heart drop. she knew.

"i've had a lot of flings and shit in the past, I know a fake orgasm when I see one, better yet cause one," vi said, pulling her fingers out slowly and wiping the love juices off against the sheets hastily

you didnt know what to do and before you could control it tears started to stream down your cheeks alarming vi

"baby, hey, hey hey it's okay i was just saying, I wanna know what's up, hey, cmon talk to me," vi pulled you in for a hug and let you rest your face against her chest

"i just- i guess i watched a lot of porn in my life and it's just that," you sniffled, "they cum and squirt within minutes into the intercourse and whenever I masterbated I never was able to make myself have an orgasm and i dont know why maybe theres something wrong with me!"

"nothings wrong with you," vi said instantly before sighing a little, "hey it's okay, just talk to me and tell me what feels good yeah? we can work this out."

"but ive never had sex before i don't know what feels good because I've never had someone else do it for me it's always been me myself." you said trying to wipe your tears away as you fought to spoke despite your throat feeling closed up

"that's fine this time we'll communicate when I touch you you'll tell me if it feels good and if it doesn't, I'll understand and I'll make you have a real orgasm, got it princess?" vi smiled gently

"m-mhm... im sorry ill try to talk..." you mumbled out and vi nodded, "that's a good girl you're learning."

vi helped you lay back down trailing kisses down all the way around your neck and collarbone, "so beautiful, my love." she sucked a dark purple spot over your collarbone making you cry out in pleasure, grabbing the sheets with both hands.

vi interlaced fingers with yours using her right hand while her left hand trailed down to cup your wet pussy, rubbing the sensitive clit with her knuckle before replacing it with her thumb.

her fingers were opening your folds up again as two fingers dipped right back inside your wet awaiting slit. "o-oh..." you moaned softly as you felt her fingers go knuckles deep inside, "feels good?" vi asked and you nodded after a little bit of contemplating, "it's good..."

"good girl now tell me how this feels," vi said and pressed your clit using her thumb and started rubbing circles over it making your back arch as you instinctively tried to grind against her touch, "t-too good!" you whined out and vi smirked at the sight of you so vulnerable and pleasured

she was feeling a sense of satisfaction by just watching you reacting so responsively to her touch, especially her thumb on your clit.

vi's fingers worked diligently pumping inside you finding the little textured bit and started rubbing there as she added a third finger making you gasp and moan loudly, your thighs begun shaking as she continued her ministrations

her work on your clit was getting faster making you gasp and moan loudly pretty much like those pornstars you had seen and let influence your thoughts and actions prior to your communication with vi

this felt heavenly and you felt a tingly sensation starting to cross your abdomen, no— lower abdomen, making you whine and bite your bottom lip to hold back the scream threatening to lip your now red lips

"cmon, give your first to me all to me," vi whispered seductively in your ears before she bit the side your neck you screamed in pleasure and your juices squirted out of your pussy coating fingers and the sheets beneath, it was a small stream but it still was something

"you did so well darling." vi pulled her fingers back and licked them seductively smirking down at your figure she was clearly proud of herself for taking your first and you were happy it was her.

i had written an elaborate part for the aftercare here but it got error-ed out due to my shitty network connection, im fuming and won't write it again bc im so pissed istg (might edit it in later)

you both cleaned up later and had a shower together eating some dried fruits after and a glass of water. you were on the counter top, wearing a loose shirt of vi's

"mm... im exhausted lovely wanna get in bed?"

"change the sheets first," you demanded and vi laughed a little before she pulled you to the bed so you could help her change the sheets which you did gladly

once the bed was made freshly again, you both got in bed and vi pulled the blankets over her figure and yours, kissing you on the ehad

"goodnight lovely."

"goodnight, baby."

[ironmandeficiency]

my mom just gave back what was my most prized possession for most of my high school career. all 232 tabs are labeled and in as good condition as they were when i last saw the book

[whokilledsamara]

so about the mr. silvair hc where he makes mr. chopped watch with our permission... 👀 pls write something about that 🙏🙏🙏🙏

WATCHING

a Mr. Silvair x afab reader fic {an: amab version posted! :)}

warnings || smut, vouyerism, slight asphyxiation, hair pulling, cuckhold, multiple positions, NEEDLE MENTION AT START!! {not smut related}

{an: i stared at this in my ask box and kept thinking of a way to write it,, also just a oneshot, not too long :)}

a small huff releases you as Mr. Silvair injects the needle into your arm, before slowly pulling the tab as blood fills the syringe.

"What do you even need this for anyways?" you ask, staring up at him. he pauses and tilts his head, seemingly confused. "...?" his gaze, or lack there of, set on your face.

"Why, Doing?" you finally say, voice cracking at the foreign language that you still cant get the hang of. he thinks for a second, before shrugging. "Need, Blood. Experiments." he answers, quickly returning to your arm.

well that didnt answer your question..

allowing him to finish his administrations, seemingly pleased with your cooperation, he stands back up. Mr. Silvair makes his way into his experiment room, disappearing for a moment.

Mr. Chopped was seated happily on the couch as always, beckoning you over with his chats. you sit down next to him, gently petting his head and murmuring 'cute' in their language.

chatting conquers for a good while, even as you struggle to remember his language, but manage.

Mr. Silvair emerges from his lab, a fresh coat on. he beckons you closer with a finger, smiling softly when you obey.

"Remove, Clothing" he states matter of fact. pausing, your face heats up with both confusion and embarrassment. "W-What..?" you ask quietly. he stares at you for a second before pointing at your lower abdomen.

"Me touch. Experiment." he hums softly. your face heats up even further, eyes flicking from him to Mr. Chopped who was still seated with a confused expression.

"Me can remove resident. Want?" he asks with a gentle smile as always. it takes a second for you to process his words, and before you can think, you find yourself shaking your head.

"He can stay.." you say with a flushed face. his smile grows wider, pleased at your response. a soft sigh escapes your lips as you gently reach for your clothes, slipping them off with ease.

"Desire, Carry! Desire, Carry!!" Mr. Chopped exclaims with excitement. a low chuckle escapes Mr. Silvair's lips and with gentle hands he picks the head up, placing him closer to the both of you. "Pretty!" he says happily, appraising your naked form.

"Thank you.." you mutter, a small squeak leaving your lips as Mr. Silvair's hands suddenly grip your waist, walking you to the couch and gently pressing you down on it, chest up. his hand drags down your torso, in between the valley of your breasts and down your stomach.

a shiver runs down your spine when his hand gently parts your thighs, exposing your glistening folds to his gaze. the smile on his face curls up even more, and with an experimental touch, he runs a finger in between your lips.

instinctively, your back arches off the couch, a hushed whine leaving your lips. "Interesting." he mutters under his breath. Mr. Chopped couldn't look any happier, excited noises leaving his mouth with every touch Mr. Silvair makes on your needy body. "Turn around." he says, gently patting your thigh with a smile.

obediently, you position yourself on all fours, making your chest hit the couch and your hips in the air. a pleased hum leaves his chest, his gentle yet massive hand caressing your ass.

excited giggles leave Mr. Chopped as expected, but hit a high pitch when Mr. Silvair lays an unexpected yet soft pat to your bottom. "Again!" the head says with a giddy smile. another chuckle leaves Mr. Silvair and he complies, asserting another slap, this time a bit harder.

a shuffling sound can be heard behind you, but a second before you can look back, you feel something poke your entrance.

something big.

he runs his member up and down your slit, collecting the juices dripping from it and using it as a lube of some sort. Mr. Silvair's hands gently grasp you, spreading you for easier access.

pain shoots through your core as he slowly presses himself inside of you, a low grunt leaving his lips in pleasure. "Feels good." he reassures you, leaning down to press his chest against your bare back when he bottoms out.

the cold air of the room you made your senses heighten, but what made it all the more was his cold hands gripping your hips as he laid down shallow thrusts. when he felt your hips push back, he took it as a sign to go faster, quickly picking up the pace with his thrusts. whines and moans left your lips, Mr. Chopped's eyes following your every movement.

"Faster?" Mr. Silvair questions, his hand reaching around to grab the front of your neck, pulling you up some.

tears fall down your face as you nod, blood staining your lip from biting so hard. his hand moves from your neck to your chin, turning your face to the side in a quick kiss, rough due to his intense thrusts. "S-Silvair- fuck- i cant take.. hic.. it-" and while he didnt quite understand your words, he didnt take it as a bad sign. his thrusts only quickened, his hips desperately slapping against your ass.

"Me want see!" Mr. Chopped whines, pouting at his lack of view, mainly only seeing Mr. Silvair's back.

"mmmmghh.." you groan against the couch cushion, yelping at the sudden change of position when Mr. Silvair flips you onto your back.

he slips back in with ease, throwing your leg over his shoulder and pressing you down with his hips. "a-ahh- mmmm.." you whine, the pathetic moans leaving your lips seemingly spurring Silvair on.

his hand travels down and rubs furiously on your clit, your hands suddenly shooting out to grab his shoulders, one managing to slip into his hair and tug. he lets out a low groan, his face turning into one of pure pleasure. his hand rubs faster, matching the rhythm of his thrusts in effort to make you cum before he does.

with another thrust and a magical finger on your clit, your back arches as far as possible, your orgasm ripping through you like fireworks.

"fuuuuccckk..." a long curse leaves your lips and not long after yours, Silvair's orgasm follows. hot spurts of cum fill you, and in the background you both can hear Mr. Chopped giggling.

you wince as Mr. Silvair pulls his length out, his previous cum dripping out of your well spent hole. he smiles gently down at you, quickly making his way to clean you up. once finished, his hand gently caresses your head. "Again! Again!" Mr. Chopped exclaims, a big smile on his face. both you and Mr. Silvair laugh softly, your tired expression speaking for you. he gently pats your thigh, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

"Later."

{an: aughh sorry the end is kind of cheezy, ive been working on this throughout the day,,, 💔}

{ made by @whokilledsamara }

[inkskinned]

it's just that there's a few more steps you have to take that other people don't have to take, but they don't see the steps, so they think you should be able to hop from moment to moment, a chickadee.

it isn't getting out of bed. it is the weight, the hook in your chest, the anchor. you have to move the anchor first. you have to silence your alarm, but your phone is in your hand, which means now you have to put the phone down, which is too-hard. you get stuck in there for a while, the white screen, mindlessly scrolling. you don't even like this activity, have tried a few other options but - here you are, and time is passing.

you've googled iron deficiency causes depression and if i drink enough water does it help with mental illness and anxiety but no caffiene within the last two weeks, like how you googled am i gay quiz at 17.

it isn't just calling the doctor back, it's the anxiety, it's these little moths in your lung cavities, furious and fluttering. you need to figure out how to capture your fingers from between their nervous bodies. you are an adult, you can say the words yes hi, i'm calling because i need - but you need to practice first. maybe write it down because what if you misspeak, wouldn't that be embarrassing. write it down, but you need to find a pen first. well, actually, your desk is kind of messy. you should get a new pen. you should get a new organizational system. you should try journaling.

your grades in school were always strange. the way teachers would say things like it feels like you're not trying. you could touch stars in the stuff you cared about. well, sometimes. god be willing. homework average zero. oops! your english teacher's wrinkled brow: i know you know this stuff. what the fuck are you doing?

it isn't the showering, it's the mirror before the shower and the soft horrible pull of your naked physique. you have to avoid eye contact completely or else it'll be 93 minutes later and you'll have picked at your skin until every little pore is bleeding. you have to stand up but standing is tiring and also you should have remembered to buy more soap but you never remember anything. maybe get out of the shower and while it's still running and you're still dripping wet, use your phone to take a note. make a note to get your groceries. let the shower run while you stand half-in half-out and get lost in your phone for a moment. come back out when the water runs cold and now you have to sprint to get ready.

your grandmother's frown. you're just being lazy. protestant work ethics in a house that isn't even protestant. she says she just learned different but she means learned better, doesn't she.

it's not that you can't send the email, it's that your hands have been hurting lately and the desk really is messy and also why the fuck would you even care about this thing? doesn't everyone else feel like they're drowning? hi brendon thanks so much for sending! will review and get back to you shortly. but now you're on the internet, close the tab with tumblr on it. go on, close it. feel the little soft vapor of boredom come up and over your eyeteeth and make everything overwhelming and itchy.

literally all you have to do is put on shoes to go outside. you're literally already dressed, that's the hard part of this whole thing. literally just put the shoes on. just... do it! do it! this shit is easy!

it's literally that easy. just stop taking all those stupid invisible steps. stop following your strange made-up rules. times like this, even you're positive you're faking. you just don't want to bother with the cleaning and the cooking and the being-an-adult.

but then - shouldn't you be able to put these stupid shoes on? nobody's even looking. go on kid. life is out there! just take the leap!

get moving.

[chamomiletealeaf]

Their Favorite Lipstick Shade on You

141 x fem reader

Warnings: suggestive themes, sexual content, MDNI

Simon - fucking loves lipgloss on you. He loves how shiny and delicate and soft it makes your lips and he can’t get enough of it. He loves the flavored kind so when he kisses you he can get a taste too and it drives him fucking wild.

Bonus if your lipgloss has a shimmer or glitter to it. He’s staring at your lips all day long. They’re just so dainty and pretty, and Simon is a sucker for dainty and pretty things when it comes to you.

And if you match your lipgloss to your panties? Expect to have Simon pressing your knees to your ears and fucking you until your lipgloss is completely wiped off.

Johnny - goes crazy when you wear anything that transfers to his skin easily. He loves when you mark him up. He prefers you wear bright colors for this specific reason because it shows up more on his skin. If you wear black lipstick? He's done for. You wear a bright pink? He's begging you to suck him off so he has your lipstick stains on his cock.

If you're out shopping for lipsticks he's coming with you so you can test how the color not only looks on your skin, but all over his neck and cheeks too. I feel like he'd get a cheeky little tattoo of your kiss mark somewhere on him so your lips are always on him.

Gaz - absolutely loves when you do lip combos where the outline of your lips are darker than the middle. He would adore the way you ombre your lips so perfectly making them look so beautiful and pouty. And if you put a bit of lip oil on over it to make it glossy? You have to fight him off so he doesn't kiss it off of you. It took you a while to blend the combo in correctly!

He loves lip oils on you. Especially just a basic clear one that accentuates your natural lip tone and makes your lips all glassy. They just look so soft and kissable and he just can't stop staring at them.

You could be talking to him and he never looks at your eyes. He's hyperfocused on your glassy, pretty lips and how he wishes they were on him, just nodding at whatever you're saying so you keep looking at him.

Price - Price is a simple man. He likes just plain, classic, red lipstick on you. His personal favorite is dark red matte because of how sexy and seductive the color is on you. If you show up on a date with him wearing dark red lipstick, he's holding your cheek and running a thumb over your lips while you talk to him, admiring how sexy they look.

He loves to watch you reapply your lipstick too. It's so mesmerizing seeing his pretty little doll dress up for him. He'd ask to help you reapply it which you comply and hand him the tube of lipstick as he delicately holds your head and swipes the velvety color over your lips. You watch him intently as he takes his time admiring your lips. When he's finished, and you're surprised at how well of a job he did, it doesn't last long before he's making out with you, smearing the freshly done coat of lipstick on his and your face.

Oh, and don't think that's where it stops either, because he's definitely pushing you onto your knees so you suck him off, leaving kiss marks all on his lower tummy and thighs as well as your lipstick smeared on his cock.

He would have a polaroid photo of you two with your signature red kiss mark on the bottom on the white tab of the photo that he keeps with him at all times. He laminated it so the mark never wipes off, keeping your kiss with him always.

[bi-writes]

ghost always gets what he wants. (18+, blood kink, dark)

right now, what he wants is sitting across the pub from him. she's smiling, swinging her legs a little as she talks to the bloke next to her. he's leaning into her space, making her laugh, buying her drinks and keeping her smiling and a little drunk. he's putting it on heavy, ghost can tell--actively listening to her, engaging in the conversation, never letting her add her drink to any tab but his own.

ghost tilts his head to the side, running his tongue over his teeth under the mask. that man wouldn't know what to do with that kind of a girl. she's all woman, soft skin, wide hips, a pair of tits he knows would feel like welcome weights between the palms of his gloved hands, pouty lips that deserved to be kissed and bitten and sliding along the length of a cock that can fill her up and choke her from the inside out.

that's what pretty girls like her deserve--to be fucked spineless, to be reduced to nothing but a teary, whimpering mess. a muppet like that would never know what to do with her, how to touch her, how to make her sing.

she's a soft thing. a pretty thing. and he wants her, so he will have her.

you exit the bathroom, a skip in your step as you shuffle outside. he said he would get a car, take you home, and you bounce on your toes as you wait by the curb, looking around the empty parking lot for your ride. but after a few minutes, you turn your head each way, and you realize no one is here, and there is no car coming.

you fully spin around when a dark figure comes out from behind the alleyway. big boots crunch the gravel underneath, and when he comes under the light of the streetlamp, you take a small step back.

the light cuts an angle over his face. you swallow, taking in the breadth of him, tilting your head to look up at him as he steps closer. his mask covers most of his face, and the eyeblack clouds his skin, but you can see the determination in his eyes. it is in the rigidness of his shoulders, the way he stands--and it is the pass of a tactical knife over his chest that you understand the danger that one person can impose.

he wipes one side of it over his dark jacket, stepping closer, until he's in your space, hovering over you. your lips part as he brings the knife down, pressing the other side of it against your throat. you tense a little as he meets your eyes, passing it over until the blood against the sharp edge wipes off, staining the skin of your neck.

he pauses when he sees the hint of a smile on your face. he narrows his eyes, expecting fear, expecting something other than the interest that sparkles in your eyes. like you are all-knowing. like you see everything he is, everything he is not, and like you know what it is he wants.

"i see you," you whisper. "all the time."

ghost sniffs, glaring, and you keep your eyes on his as he drags the knife down your chest, the tip of it moving down between your breasts.

"you're not very subtle," you finish. "quite obvious, what it is that you do...why you do it."

ghost tilts his head to the side, clicking his tongue, and you almost giggle.

"is tha' right, swee'eart?"

you nod.

"been waiting," you say softly.

"for wot?"

you smile.

"for you to make your move," you murmur. your eyes flicker down, eyeing the blood on the front of his jacket. you look up into his eyes again, pursing your lips, and ghost bites his tongue hard enough to draw blood. fuck, the same thing he sees in his dreams, it's in your fucking eyes. you're not afraid, and it angers him, repulses him, and fulfills him all the same. "hmm...you didn't approve of him?"

ghost growls, "was a right muppet. cried like a baby."

your tongue darts out, wetting your lips, and ghost follows the drag of your tongue hungrily. you are not the screaming, soft, doe-eyed little thing he thought he might like to have.

you are silent, deadly, a wolf in sheep's clothing, and he does not just want to have you. he needs you. he needs you to live under his skin. he needs to taste you, to have you flood his mouth, to chew and eat and swallow and breathe.

he would say you are his match made in heaven, but he knows this does not exist, because if it did, he wouldn't be real. and neither would you.

"ooof," you scrunch your nose. "i hate cry babies."

you almost make him laugh.

he steps closer, sliding the knife lower until it rests at the curve of your waist.

"you don't need that, you know," you whisper, and he leans in, the front of his mask brushing against your lips.

"no?"

"no," you echo, smiling wider. "if you wanna feel up my skirt, all you gotta do is ask. it'd be nice to have your name first though."

"ghost."

you giggle, "your real name, baby."

"'s ghost."

"that what you want me to say when i'm in your bed tonight?"

"who said you'll be in m'bed?"

you reach up with one hand, dragging the tip of your finger down the strong line of his jaw. he towers over you, shadows you, and the knife is sharp against your skin, but all you want is to be a little closer.

you close your eyes when you feel his hand. the tips of his gloved fingers graze the skin of your upper thighs, and you suck in a soft breath when he drags that hand up under your skirt. you put both hands on his chest as you tremble slightly, holding onto him for support as his big hand fondles one side of your ass. his fingers creep lower, and he groans audibly.

"no knickers, swee'eart?" he mutters, and you just giggle breathlessly. "how long 'av y'been waitin' for me, huh?"

you open your eyes, tilting your head back and holding back a whine when you feel his thick fingers prodding at your folds, soaking up the slick there and teasing your cunt. it's sick--you must be sick, you must be awful, you must be so dead inside, you have to be, but it's so hard to care.

you gasp when he grips your throat, forcing your eyes on his, and you hold him there.

"answer me. how long 'av y'been waitin' for me?"

you soften, smile, bare your teeth for him.

"my whole life, baby."

[messenger-of-babel]

Doorstep Ghosts

Summary: Dick takes you into his apartment when you appear on his doorstep, unable to cope with the recent accident. (Dick Grayson x reader)

Word Count: 1.9K

Notes: Is this even angst anymore? I don’t know. I might have missed the mark a little bit. Warning for sensitive topics and alluded to mentions of suicide. Maddd survivors guilt. If you are triggered I’d suggest to avoid all together just in case. If you are feeling that way, please reach out to someone and call the panic line in your country. There's always someone willing to listen. <3

I had to try and research the difference of whump vs. angst and I still don’t fully understand so I’m just gonna run off of vibes. This might classify more as hurt/comfort actually. Waah idk. Much love, RiRi~ xx

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Since the accident, Dick had been keeping close tabs on you.

He had asked Tim if Red Robin could keep a tab on you, even though Tim had his own ordeals to handle back in Gotham. Bruce had even chipped in when Dick asked, transferring him some money so Dick could move you into a safer apartment. Dick hated taking Bruce's money, he could do fine without it, and quite frankly he didn't want to take what he hadn't worked for himself. However, when it came to your safety, he put that aside for a moment. He wasn't going to risk it, so within the week you were in a nicer part of Bludhaven with a state-of-the-art security system secretly set up to ping him if anything went wrong.

He had been so careful, so meticulous about making sure that you were okay that when you appeared on his front step one night, soaked through to the bone and dripping on his doorstep he was stunned. Your eyes were red rimmed and puffy, snot building in your swollen nose. Your arms hugged around yourself to bite back the chill of winter, hair matted to your forehead.

"Can I come in?" you sniffle, quaking. Wordlessly he steps back, arm opening to usher you in and shut the door behind you. His mind is reeling, unsure how you managed to find your way here, halfway across town, without him or anyone back in Gotham noticing. He frowns softly, pulling you into the living room and disappearing to find you a towel. Bringing two fresh ones back, he hands one to you and unfurls the other. Softly he begins to dry your hair while you wipe down the rest of your body, jacket peeling away and making a wet plop on the floor next to you. "It's unsafe for you to be out, especially this late at night. How did you even get here?" He murmurs, squeezing the water from your scalp.

"I took the train." you say back weakly, voice crackly from hours of crying. His frown deepens, fingers clenching in concern.

"You know the train is dangerous on the best of days. No way to get off or go anywhere if something escalates. Not to mention, only gangs use the rail this late. You know better, why didn't you call me?" he chides softly, flinching at the way you hang your head at his tone. he hadn't meant for it to come out like that, he was just concerned for your safety.

"I didn't want to bother you," you sniffle back. "Not to come get me."

"It worries me more when you don't let me come get you. If you wanted company, I would have come to your place-"

"No." you say firmly, towel wrapped around your shoulders and voice firm. "Anywhere but there, anywhere else just not-" you cut yourself off, biting on your lip harshly. He turns you to face him, hands soft as they grip your shoulders.

"No what?" he asks softly. "Come on sweetheart, you gotta work with me here."

"It doesn't feel like home. It's not-" you begin to break into a sob again, and he sighs while rubbing your shoulders.

Home.

He knows how badly you want to go home to your old apartment. The one you had moved into the very first day you set foot into Bludhaven and poured your heart and soul into. The one that you shared with your elder brother, or had.

"I know. But you can't go back there sweetheart," he murmurs, thumbs running small circles over your skin. "It's an active crime scene, and it's unsafe-"

"It's home." you say weakly, hands coming up to wipe at your eyes. "I just want to go home, want to go to my bed in my room."

"You do have a room," he tries to soothe. "I made sure we found you somewhere nice and big, where you can take the master bedroom and have all the freedom to do what you want with decorating it, just like you always wanted."

He can't stand the way his voice sounds so condescending, as if throwing money at the problem as going to make the wound in your heart heal over. He knew it couldn't erase the horrors that you saw or fix the gaping hole in your life. He knew it wasn't going to bring your brother back, but he couldn't find the right words to take the pain away.

"What did you come here for?" he asks gently, crouching down in front of you so he can meet your gaze, heart clenching at the way you hang your head to hide your face. "I've got the spare bed made, or you can share mine. I'll even sleep in the spare room if you want it to yourself, you know I've got the best mattress." He tries to make a teasing remark, but it wavers with uncertainty.

"I…I was thinking." you murmur, hands beginning to quake. His eyebrows furrow, hands coming to grip yours.

"Thinking?" he inquires softly, not liking the ton of your voice.

"If I had been me instead." you hoarsely whisper, making panic flare through his chest.

"It's lucky it wasn't." he counters quickly. "This wasn't your fault, and it wouldn't have made anything better. You're here still, and that means you keep fighting." he stresses, thumbs tracing the back of your hand.

"It wasn’t lucky for him though," you say, voice trembling badly. "It was my fault it happened; it was all my fault. I'm the one who took the photographs of the deal and gave it to him, I'm the one who said he needed to stand up to other police on the force, I'm the one who said he should try to go against the corrupt ones. He took my advice, and it got him killed."

"Sweetheart, no." he tries to stop your rambling. "Listen-"

"It should have been me." you finally sob. "It should have been me, I don't know how I'm supposed to just keep going when all I want is to be with him again." you cry, breath coming out in chokes and eyes clenching shut. Your hands shake in his grip, trying to catch your breath in between sobs. "I want so badly to see him again." you manage to whisper out, voice tight. "I wanna follow, I just want to go."

Dick stands to his full height upon hearing that, pulling you tight. He buries his face in your hair, one arm coming around your back to press you firmly against him, the other on the back of your head. "Stop that." he says firmly. "We don't talk like that; we don't give into those thoughts." His voice comes out stern, but the sharpness of his words is dulled by the panic they're wrapped in.

"I... I know…" you choke out. "I’m... I’m confused Dick. I was convinced but then I got scared about it and I-I…" you trail off, breathing becoming quick and broken by hiccups. "I ran all the way here. I'm a coward, but in that moment, I just felt-"

"Scared." he finishes softly, hand softly petting your damp hair. "You were scared."

You nod against him, sniffling into his worn sleep shirt. "I don't know what to do. I don’t know where to go, where to turn." you whisper fearfully. Dick tightens his arms around you, senses dulling around him as he focuses on you. The sharp intakes of your breath, the erratic ticking of your pulse. "You stay here." he says softly. "With me. You tell me when you're having those thoughts, and I'll make them go away. You won't have to be scared, not when you're with me."

"And when you're not with me?" you ask quietly. He frowns at that, pulling back slightly to look at you.

"Sweetheart," he says adoringly, the faint traces of a warm smile gracing his lips. "Even if you can't see me, I'll always be with you."

Your eyes water more, and you let your head fall forward again. "When you have no one else to turn to, don't forget that you can turn back." he murmurs gently. "Because I'll always be behind you. Always, every step of the way." you say nothing back for a moment, but he holds you as you shake.

"Why?" you ask softly, hiccupping.

"Because I love you." he replies instantly, and you look up at him. Your eyes ware nearly swollen shut from the amount of crying you've been doing, and quite frankly, a mess. "I love you." he repeats. "So don't you dare try to leave, okay?" his own voice wavers, eyes clouding with a sheen of concern. More and more under his soothing you begin to relax, until you're barely standing by yourself. He guides you to bed, helping you change out of the wet clothes and into some of his freshly laundered ones before slipping you under the sheets. He gives you your favourite side of the bed before following suit.

As soon as your head hits the pillow you're out like a light, hand still gripping his softly. He adjusts so he's comfortable, not letting your hand go. With a soft sigh he stares at your worried and beaten form, the worry lines that have formed on your forehead and the bags that have developed under your eyes. You look exhausted, with faint tremors even as your breath evens and you fall deeper into sleep.

He can't even begin to comprehend the horrors that you had seen coming back from work that night, entering your apartment as usual only to walk in on a gruesome scene like that. he had seen it himself, as Nightwing. He had only seen the aftermath though, once the body had already been taken away. He never got to see the body, never saw the carnage that undoubtably the mob had left behind. What he had seen though was the blood splatters over the wall, and the array of household items that were being bagged for murder weapons. He had seen the message scrawled on the wall, crimson letters dripping with a warning. He had seen you, sitting with the paramedics as you stared off into the distance, eyes unseeing as they draped a shock blanket over your shoulders.

He moved himself closer to you, pulling you into him. He wasn’t going to let something like that happen to you, not if he could help it. he was Nightwing, if anything, he should have the power to stop these things. However, the fear that it would slip through his fingers plagued the back of his mind, the nightmare of you fading away like your brother bouncing around painfully inside his skull. He couldn't bear to lose you, not to the mob, not to yourself. He takes a deep breath to try and control his own emotions, careful not to wake you up. As he exhales through his nose, he lets himself relax slightly, gently snaking an arm over you for extra protection. He doubted he'd be sleeping very deeply tonight, but it was the price he was willing to pay to keep you safe.

He'd do it every night for the rest of his life if it meant keeping you by his side, keeping the flickering flame in your heart alive.

He'd keep his arms around you till eternity ended, just so you could know that even if you didn't think you had anyone, you would know you had him.

That is the thought that finally lets Dick flutter into sleep quietly himself, room filling with the sound of the rain outside and the quiet duet of even breaths.

[stellewriites]

johnny x fat!reader based off of this post i did a while back

cw: unprotected sex, minimal prep, kind of public sex, johnny’s a biter, fat fem reader. it’s just 2.5k of fucking like idk what to say

you winced as you read over the messages once more, feeling your stomach drop at the most recent one sent.

> who am i speaking to? i’d like to be able to make a complaint

you hesitated for a second, wondering if you’d get away with giving a coworker’s name, specifically claire, the coworker that always gave you shit on shift. but as much as the thought tickled you, you knew management would only figure out it was you when they realised claire wasn’t covering for you today.

you typed and sent back your name and apologised again, hoping he didn’t really want to send in a complaint for your slip up. you needed this job and it’d been hard enough to get it despite being over-qualified.

you knew you were a sort of diversity hire for the gym, every other worker there looked like they modelled for gymshark and liked to run a couple miles every morning before breakfast; whereas you cringed at the idea of the friction burn it’d inevitably cause between your thick thighs after the first five minutes.

the rest of the staff were nice enough, friendly; though a few of them couldn’t help but throw comments your way about your weight. it was something you’d had to develop a thick skin to after the first month working there, spending your lunch breaks or the drive home in tears, your self confidence the lowest it’d been since high school.

once you figured out how to let their shit roll off your back like water on a duck, it all became a hell of a lot easier again. though your confidence had taken a hit you were still recovering from. and your current dry spell in the bedroom hadn’t helped.

you worked behind the welcome desk, admin primarily but you covered the IT side of things too, what little there was of it.

the little local gym had started to gain a bit of traction online on social media and the owners had decided to exploit the opportunity and create workout clothes with the gym’s name and logo on it. regulars seemed to like it and people online had started buying when you’d posted that they’d get 20% off their next order if they posted online wearing and using the gym-wear.

it was all going great; you organised the orders and got them sent out on time, arranged any returns or customer service questions without a hitch.

or you did until today.

you’d just been taken aback when you saw the photo the customer - soap141 - had sent in. you’d typed without thinking and now? now you might lose your job because that customer looked to be about five seconds away from busting the seams on his workout vest.

and what a sight that would be.

shit, fuck. you needed to concentrate. it’s been far too long since you last hooked up with anyone and you were always too tired to deal with your pent up energy after work so it had… been a while. you were rightfully and understandably flustered at this photo.

you clicked back on the photo and bit your cheek as you zoomed in on his hands.

you closed the tab with a shake of your head, desperate to clear it, and started working on replying to the emails of the day.

you’d gotten through the majority of them when you were interrupted by a knock on the front desk gaining your attention.

it was just before lunch, and most newcomers either tended to start early morning or in the evening after work, and everyone else was able to go through with their membership qr code with no need to speak to you. this visit was unexpected and not in your usual routine.

you looked up at the unfairly handsome man before you and smiled.

“hi, can i help you?”

“i hope so, hen,” he said and his eyes dragged over your soft body appreciatively before landing on your name tag and growing sharp. “need to make a return, vest i got was too small. lass i spoke to online was, uhh, nae so helpful.”

you flushed.

the name badge pinned on your chest suddenly felt like it weighed a ton as you did you best not to let your eyes flicker down or you hand rise to cover it. he’d spotted it already, you could tell by his meanly satisfied look that was pinning you to your chair.

“i’m so so sorry, sir—.”

“johnny.”

“johnny. i can get that return sorted for you immediately,” you said, visibly flustered. he watched you for a moment, seeming to revel in your nervous energy until you sent a wide eyed, skittish look over your shoulder, hoping none of your co-workers were near by enough to overhear how much free merch you were about to offer for him to not make a complaint.

johnny however thought you were looking for a way out, a coworker to back you up.

“hey now, there’s no need t’make a scene, ey?” he interrupted, his head tilted to catch your eyes quicker when you turned back to face him. “i’m sure you can find a way to make it up to me.”

oh thank god, you were on the same page, he just wanted a fucking bribe. that you could do easily.

“of course, definitely. follow me,” you said and stood up. you waved him behind the desk and pointed to the storage room behind you. “i can process your refund before you leave, and you can have a look at the sizes of the other items we have in stock. maybe a free vest and t-shirt for all the trouble?”

he winced.

“that’s not exactly what i had in mind, bonnie.” he crept closer, his fingers dancing along the surface of the desk, playful in a way you couldn’t relate to at that moment. “was real unprofessional what you said, but i have something in mind that you can do for me that might get me to forget it ever happened. would take my mind off it, if you catch my drift.”

close enough to touch, he let his hand drift up to cheekily tug at the hem of your shirt, his fingers making light work of burrowing beneath to find your soft, warm skin.

“are you fucking with me?” you demanded after letting his words sit in the air for a moment, holding his wrist still. you’d been a bit forward on the chat, sure, but if he was going to be a prick about it you’d rather face the consequences with your managers instead.

his face grew serious for a moment, all teasing sharpness gone. “would never,” he said earnestly. you looked at him and saw the genuine arousal he held in the lick of his lips, the puffed up breadth of his chest; genuine unbridled want.

fuck it.

your own shoulders relaxed and you nodded.

“well, first thing we’re taught in retail is that the customer’s always right,” you said as you walked back towards the storage room, your eyes flickered to the gym behind you but no one was looking your way. you kept his hand at your waist so he followed closely. “maybe i could show you something more exclusive back here, you can try it on for size.”

“i think i already know it’s goin’ tae fit jus’ right,” johnny grinned and kicked the storage door closed behind him.

he hooked his fingers under your shirt, dragging it up until he could take in his fill of your thick waist, warm and malleable beneath his rough palms. he was none to gentle but determined in keeping you close. he dragged his nose down your cheek and breathed heavily for a moment as you clung to his biceps.

“what do you want?” you asked shakily. you’d experienced your fair share of one night stands but it’d been a while since someone had been so openly wanting with you, it left your hands a little jittery at how quick everything was moving.

“what are ya willing to give?” he shot back, letting a wet kiss land next to your ear.

“customer satisfaction is high on my list of priorities, i’ll have you know,” you hummed, trying to calm down and let yourself enjoy it.

johnny laughed, a little too loud for the small room, and pulled back enough to wiggle his eyebrows.

“ah bet it is,” he snickered. “but ye cannae deny that happy workers keep a place running, and i’m all about giving pretty workers their due benefits.”

he tugged at the waistband of your sports leggings, dropping to his knees so quickly you felt lightheaded at the sight.

“take tha’ off.” he nodded up to your rumpled shirt and you moved without hesitance despite the bright, unflattering light in the centre of the glorified cupboard. you shed your bra without waiting for instruction next, letting it drop to the floor where johnny had haphazardly piled your shoes and clothes. he was currently mesmerised by the hang of your belly, and the wobbling clench of your thighs as you shifted in front of him. he ran his hands and lips ever so lightly from your knee to your hip before baring his teeth.

“hey, no biting!” you were quick to say, your hands going to frame his face, fingers tilting up his jaw so you could both hold him back and make eye contact to show him you were serious. you had a feeling he was the type to push boundaries and ignore you if you weren’t careful.

“a’right hen, not this time,” he agreed and delicately kissed the stretch marks there instead and then turned to kiss one of your palms. once you’d let go, he stood and bent his head low to kiss and suck at your tits, his hands unable to stay still as he plucked at a nipple before it roamed further down to squeeze at your arse or rub at where the thin cotton of your knickers dug into your skin.

you tilted your head back and let him explore freely for a moment before a heavy hand was dragging you forward by the back of your neck and his lips found yours.

you keened into his mouth as he kissed you deeply; licked at his tongue and lips lazily in turn. you pulled back feeling throughly ravaged and yet barely touched.

“you’re staying clothed? that doesn’t seem fair.” you pouted as you looked down at the shirt you held in clenched fists.

“fuck fair,” he panted into your mouth, grinning. “but maybe if you ask nicely i’ll tek it off.”

“please?” you begged immediately, delighting in the surprise on his face. “please take it off, want to see you. please.”

he snorted, eyes blown wide and nodded.

“ok, pretty thing,” he said indulgently and made quick work of his shirt and trousers. you gawped at his bare, hairy chest and the swollen cock trapped in his boxers. “c’mere.”

he tugged you forward again and kissed down your chest, light presses of his lips to soften the scratching trail of his beard, before dropping to his knees. you leant back unsteadily against the small table you used to put orders together, crammed against the wall.

his eyes flickered up to yours and you recognised a flash of mischievousness a second before he lent in and bit at your plush hip. his hands squeezed at the fat of your thighs as you gasped out a sharp moan, he hissed as he let go when you pulled at his mohawk in shock and slight embarrassment.

“couldnae help it, hen,” he said with a dopey grin. he wrapped his hand around yours in his hair. “do that again though, yeah?”

you barely gave yourself a moment to recover or think too hard about his blatant disregard of your earlier wishes and instead tugged lightly, a little hesitant now that it wasn’t instinctual, at his hair. you were spurred on by the pleasured crease in his brow as he pulled down your knickers and his groan from both the hint of pain and the sight of you bare before him.

“think ye might just be made for me, such a perfect body and yer not so sweet as ye let on after all,” he mumbled. unceremoniously he sucked on two fingers before trailing them between your thighs, bullying your left leg up onto one burly arm so he could gain better access to your slick pussy. you tried to balance on one leg and less so on the table but the feeling of johnny’s tongue on your clit, lavving like a needy dog, had you slumping back.

he let out a heady groan at the taste of you and knew just what to do to keep you dripping like he had you on tap.

“remind me ta get yer number after this,” he panted, fingers stretching you quickly and clumsily.

his words were the final nail in the coffin that confirmed he wasn’t just fucking you for the shock value or to tell his friends there’s an easy fat girl that works at the gym. his attraction was genuine and he didn’t seem ashamed of that, was eager with it even.

showed it in the messy way he ate you out, licking between his fingers and lavishing in the wet, sticky noises he pulled from you; hidden only when either of you moaned too loud. you tried to hide it behind your hands but johnny seemed to pull back purposely to keep them loud when your nails scratched along his scalp.

it wasn’t enough to get off though, and he knew it, didn’t care actually as he had wasted no time once his third finger was fitting snug inside your cunt to pull them all back out, deeming you stretched and prepped enough.

he kissed you, too open mouthed and all tongue - far from the best kiss, but one you’d not soon forget - once he was stood up and turned you around so you could bend over the table.

“yeah?” he checked in quickly, freeing his cock and giving it a quick tug with his sticky fingers.

you nodded eagerly and reached back to hold one arse cheek to the side, letting him look at your holes from the back.

“fuck me,” he swore, whistling until you let go to swat at him with a laugh.

“my fucking co-workers,” you hissed, biting back a feral grin. the idea of them catching you now seemed less daunting than it had at the start, not when the promise of johnny’s cock was so close.

“if they haven’t heard us by now, bonnie…” he slapped your other cheek and bit his lip as it sent a ripple across your body. “beautiful.”

he tapped his cock at you pussy, hissing at the tease of the wet heat he was seconds away from.

“johnny,” you groaned out as he lingered.

you winced as he pushed in a moment later, just this side of too tight given the rushed prep but you whined through it until he bottomed out.

“perfect fit,” he hummed.

you felt every inch of him, only exacerbated when he leant forward to lean on your back, kissing at your neck.

“steamin’ jesus, i can feel you clenchin’ ‘round me,” he huffed. he ran a hand down your side before shifting, starting a steady pace he seemed to lose himself in as the pleasure your body brought him had him seeing stars.

you gasped at an especially hard thrust, your breath knocked out of you even as you felt yourself grow ever closer to your orgasm. you knew it’d be a doozy after going so long without, but as johnny’s spongy head knocked passed your g-spot like he was being paid to make you cum in under two minutes flat, you knew you weren’t going to be able to be quiet about it.

christ, it felt like he was nudging at your cervix, something you knew wasn’t true but the thought had you clenching and creaming around him either way.

“h-harder,” you whispered. “god, harder.”

johnny complied immediately, readjusting his grip on your hips to get better leverage to fuck into you harder and deeper.

“gonna cum already, hen, can feel you pulsing around me so good,” he warned.

“let me— i wanna, i want,” you struggled to get the words out but the thought of johnny leaving you high and dry after getting his own, when you were so close, had you panicking.

“i know, beautiful, don’t you worry. you’ll get yours,” he promised, hefting you both back a step from the table, just enough so he could slip his hand around and let his middle finger rest over your throbbing clit.

you tried to stifle your moan at the welcome and necessary attention and knew johnny was grinning like a mad man behind you.

“There you go, wanna hear you so bad, s’fucking hot,” he encouraged. “fuck yer coworkers.”

you rolled your hips along with his thrusts and steady pressure on your clit until you felt your vision white out and your cunt clench viciously. you felt johnny huff and slap his hips into your forgiving arse until he moaned, not at all muffled like yours had been.

he slumped over you, doing his best to balance on shaking arms so he didn’t crush you against the table.

“you tell your managers that this customer is definitely satisfied,” he said, eliciting an unattractive snort from you. you giggled as you lightly shrugged and batted him off until you were able to peel your sweaty skin from the table and stand back up straight, rubbing delicately at the imprint of the table that ran across your stomach.

he winced and ran a gentle palm across it alongside yours.

“wan’ me t’kiss it better?” he offered, the look in his eye only half as teasing as you were expecting.

without a care, he grabbed one of the shirts off the shelf and wiped you down, keeping his touches efficient and tender when they drifted between your legs.

he passed you your clothes, smiling at your shy thanks and busied himself with getting dressed as you struggled back into your own clothes.

it should’ve felt awkward walking out into the gym; you were almost certain your coworkers would be waiting outside ready to catch you, or worse some of the gym users. but johnny made it seem normal.

as you went to take your seat behind the desk he slapped your arse one last time, giving you a cheeky wink when you hissed at him.

“prick,” you huffed with a smile, rubbing at the smarting spot, but he only cooed and leant in to steal a chaste kiss before rounding back to stand in front of the desk.

he leant his hip against it as he looked down at you, suddenly shy when he held his phone out.

“only if ya want, hen. no pressure if this was just a one time thing.”

you glanced at his hopeful puppy-dog eyes and reached for the phone.

fuck it, maybe he could be your morning workout.

[giuliettagaltieri]

True Crime

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Welcome to your perfect fairy tale life.

Warning: Intoxication and implicit sex

Word Count: 2573

Chapter: 2

Soft sunlight peering from the gaps of your drapes warmed your face, pulling you from your slumber.  For a moment you just stared blankly into the wall, enjoying the peace the morning brought before a yawn forced you to break your staring.  You push your duvet off to sit up and stretch.  Your cat, Lily, presses her little paws on her face and stretches.  She slipped beside you while you were fast asleep.

“Good morning, my love.”  You coo softly at her and she sassily stands and sits by your lap, demanding pets, which you give willingly.  She closes her eyes when you bury your face on her thick white fur.  Showering her with kisses, you had to stop when you felt a sneeze coming in.

Lily meows in protest when you do sneeze, driving her away.  She then meows at you dramatically as she walks in circles in your door.  You roll your eyes at her and get up to open it.

“I put in a cat door so you can use it, silly.” 

You head to your kitchen to give Lily her breakfast.  While she enjoys her breakfast, you stretch once more as you make yourself a cup of coffee.  To romanticize your Saturday morning, you switch on your laptop and connect it to your speaker to start a soft Parisian playlist.

You always appreciate your mornings on Thursdays until Sundays since the other three days of your week are nothing but pure hell.  You work as an OR nurse and although you love your job, standing up for at least eight hours to assist surgeons will never not be tiring.

Well, at least the pay is good.

Feeling ready to start breakfast, you reach for the waffle mix in your cupboard and start on the waffle batter.  You finish the beautiful stack of golden waffles and you top it off with a slice of butter and a drizzle of maple syrup.  You wipe your hands on a napkin to open another tab in your browser so you can listen to the local news but nothing really happens in your quiet town.

After finishing your pancakes and coffee, you clean up your apartment while doing your laundry to be time efficient.  Lily takes a nap in her cat bed, she just recently got over her fear of the vacuum and is now a very good girl whenever you clean up.

Once you’ve steamed your scrub suits and folded your clothes, you freshen up and change into your activewear to run a few laps in the park nearby.  One thing you liked about this town is how the sun is never at its peak.  You can run in the park at midday without fearing for skin cancer.

Lily barely turns her head to you as you get out of your apartment.  You see familiar faces on your way to the park and you smile at them to be polite.  In your three years in this small coastal town, you haven’t exactly made a friend.  You have quite a lot of acquaintances, yes.  But not a friend.  Not the townspeople’s fault of course.  You just like your own company.

Some of the few acquaintances you made outside your workplace are your old nosy landlady who bakes too many cookies.  She comes by once in a while with her retired military dog which she dresses up with cute little bow ties.

The shopkeepers of the town are also very kind, very welcoming when you come to their cozy shops.

It was definitely the life you dreamed of when you were young.  To move somewhere where nobody knows your name.  And it’s great.  You really feel like an adult, standing on your own two feet.  A real independent. 

Sure it’s a bit lonely when you have nobody to celebrate with on holidays or have someone to lean on when work gets a bit tough.  But your job and other responsibilities keep you busy so you can’t dwell much on them.  Lily also does a really good job in keeping you company.

After an hour or so of jogging, you head back to your apartment to grab a quick snack, nothing too filling, just something to keep hunger at bay.  With the sweat coating your skin, you take a long shower to scrub off the sweat and dust that stuck to your skin after you jogged.  With your money mostly going to the bank, you splurged on your skincare routine.  Once your skin is well pampered, you make yourself a quick lunch, just a panini and a glass of cranberry juice to go with it.

You settle yourself on your couch to watch an episode of your favorite tv show because God forbid you eat any meal without watching something.  With your stomach full, you clean up in the kitchen and you clap as you glance at your watch.  It says 12:34 pm.  Time to start.

You head to the guest room in your apartment which you converted into a tiny office.

Last year, you opened an online store.  You started with scrunchies and stickers but now you expanded to a bunch of stationery and tshirts. 

The other guest room was converted into a storage space and is chock-full of boxes filled with your items for restocking while the other is lined with shelves holding your products and on one corner is a long table divided into your office and packing space.  You took a bunch of inspiration from Pinterest but you tried to make it your own space by adding decors that felt most like you.

The online store was not as popular as you hoped but you’re just starting and you really believe you’ll make it if you try long enough.  You even started having regular customers that came back to your store to buy every newly launched product. 

Before you know it, you packed 13 parcels of different sizes, you carefully placed them along with the ones you packed the past days into a trolley basket you bought off the surplus so you can load it in your car.  

If something is to look out of place in your small coastal town, it would be your car.  With the town buildings mostly in muted colors and built with old stone and wooden frames, a patagonia red Mercedes AMG CLE 53 Coupe certainly turned heads the moment it arrived last year.

The townsfolk were not surprised to find out it was yours, considering that you were never seen in badly put together outfits.  Most people in the town either wore old shirts and worn out sweaters.  It was not because they were living in really unfortunate conditions but those clothes, they were easier to put together.  But like anything, the car lost its allure in the slow paced town much quicker than most would have thought, now it just blended in with the town. 

A sweet couple mans the local post office, you always see them wearing identical sweaters.  They both beam when they see your car pull up in their driveway.  You load your parcels in the pushcart available in the post office.  They greet you cheerfully and you greet back, trying to match their energy to no avail.  The husband quickly weighs your parcels while the wife processes it for you.  She tells you how much everything costs after the husband finishes weighing everything.

Hopefully by next year, your business will grow and start having a lot of customers overseas.  But baby steps for now, just as long as they’re in the right direction.

After thanking them, you take your leave.  The air smells faintly like the ocean when you inhale deeply.  You watch your feet clad with wedged slippers as you walk on the cobblestone path on the driveway of the post office.

With lots of time to spare, you get in your car and cruise around, passing by quiet offices and family restaurants that line the heart of your town before it faded to houses and apartments.  Most buildings were already present before your grandparents were even born, thus the old fashioned architecture.

A bunch of kids are playing in the playpark near the only school in your town, most moms were busy chatting with each other in the benches, exchanging local gossip.

The vintage boutiques you’re looking for soon come into view and you park your car to find a bench facing the stores you so adore.  You pull out your sketchbook and pencil case.

Someone is performing with a fiddle nearby, serenading the people of the town and you feel no need to wear your airpods so you set it aside.  Smoothing down your dress, you then sit down on the wooden bench and start sketching rough ideas of new sticker sheets that you plan to launch in the future.

Once you feel satisfied with the Parisian chic inspired sticker sheet, you decide to head to the pub for dinner and some drinks.

Well, it was supposed to be just a quick dinner out in the pub but for some reason you chose to stay.  The other families and couples sitting around you made you feel like you are included.  You hear them talk about their kids’ achievements, hear the bickering of old couples.  After completing your meal, you started on the drinks.  The alcohol started hitting you and you just kept ordering more and more drinks until you’re the only one left in the pub.  You even moved to the barstool so you won’t have to get up everytime Tom the bartender finishes making your drink.

He said he closes whenever he feels like it and he hasn’t kicked you out yet so you just kept ordering.  You said you’d stop when you get a little tipsy as you had to drive home but Tom just makes the best cocktails.  He didn’t tell you it has gone to the point where he’s just waiting for you to sober up, taking his time on making the drinks you ordered, reducing the alcohol in it so you won’t die when you do decide to drive home.

You had only gone to the bathroom to do your business and reapply your lipstick when you saw a stranger sitting on your seat.

Who does he think he is, stealing your seat?

“Hey!”  You call and when he turns around, your face heats up.  You don’t usually get men this attractive in your little town.  “That’s my seat.”  You add before breaking into a hiccup.

He smiles boyishly, making you squirm.  The man says something you can’t quite understand and moves to the barstool next to yours.

The smile on his face was making you nervous for some reason and it’s starting to annoy you.  “What are you smiling at?”  You look at him sharply.  When you see Tom bringing him a drink, you suddenly want some too.  “Tom, I’ll have sour cherry vodka.”

Tom wasn’t quite happy with that, much to your disappointment so you decide to order something that will help you sober up a bit instead.  It has really small alcohol content and you’re happy when Tom makes it despite his comment. 

He also gives you and the stranger a glass of cold water each, making you sigh.  You ordered a hot drink and Tom gave you cold water.  Does he want your teeth to fall off or something?  You watch the sweat drip on the tall glass which you quickly catch with a finger before drawing a cute little heart.  So cute and coquette.

With Tom having his back turned to you to make your drink, you got nobody else to talk to.  You see movement in your periphery so you had the brilliant idea of talking to him.

He’s very cute.  His lips look really soft, you wonder if he uses a chapstick.  You stare at them before looking into his strangely colored eyes.  Such pretty eyes too.

The man has a thick accent you can’t quite place and everything he said was just so appealing and interesting to you, you can’t help but giggle like a teenager. 

Gulping down your drink, you pretend it’s butterbeer from Harry Potter.  Your breath hitches when he places a hand on your cheek and wipes your upper lip.  It felt like something that was pulled out of a romance book or like those romcoms you used to watch when you’re younger.  He had you practically squirming in anticipation in your seat.

You can’t believe this is finally happening to you.  And with a pretty cute guy too!

The moment he calls you ‘baby’ outside the pub, every wall you’ve put up crumbles before your eyes and you surrender to the man.

You gave yourself to him, let him bruise your skin with his kisses and touch.  You were sweating, gripping the sheets for dear life as you let him ravish you.

It was carnality in its purest form.  Just lust taking over your bodies as you spent the night tangled in each other’s bodies.  It was a game of push and pull, his body atop you was rock solid.  Everything about him was rock solid.  His washboard abs, his thighs, his grip, and OH! It was pure ecstasy.

You don’t know when you stopped or if you ever did, that you just lost consciousness in the middle of it all, but when you opened your eyes, everything felt…different.

Why does your head feel like it was dribbled and hit with a baseball bat?  Ugh, even your analogies are mixing up.

You let out a whimper when you tried to move your body.  And when did you get a weighted blanket?  Did you somehow mess up your thermostat?  You never woke up sweating before.  But you feel like you’ve been to the gym doing thighs and hip workout for the entire day yesterday and collapsed right into bed without showering.

Well that can’t be right…You were cleaning your apartment yesterday, jogged for an hour but it doesn’t strain your body like this.  You remember packing the orders, going to the post office, sketching, having dinner and drinks at Tom’s…dinner and drinks at Tom’s…

“OH MY GOD!”  You screamed at the top of your lungs when you turned and saw a naked man literally spooning you.

Your scream alarmed him and he woke up in a panic.  In your rush to get out of bed, you got tangled in the duvet and accidentally rolled off the bed with a loud thump.  You screamed at him to get out repeatedly as you blindly threw your bunny slippers at him.  When both pairs went flying off and missed their target, you switched to your pillows.  You hear him apologizing and running around your room.  You struggle to get up, throat going dry as you screamed and why the fuck is he not leaving yet!

Finally managing to get up, you grab your lampshade and scream.  It must have alerted him because he hopped away from you as he tried to put on his pants and it happened so quickly.  You couldn’t have done anything to help him.  He stumbled and fell on his face.

The thud his body makes was nearly sickening yet so incredibly comical.  You stand still, chest heaving as you clutch your lampshade.  You wait for him to get up but he doesn’t move an inch.

“Holy shit…I killed a man.”

Overdrive

[the-massive-simp]

KINKTOBER - DAY 11 - mdni!

character: Childe

prompt(s): step siblings, voyeurism

warnings: masturbation(male and female), childe has a porn channel, he's a pervert, somnophilia but he doesn't touch reader uhh I think that's all (let me know if i missed anything. reader is female.

a/n: hehe. HEHE. this leaves things to your imagination, but I'll definitely write a part two for this one sooner or later. I'm a sucker for stinky perv childe ugh😔

kinktober masterlist here

♡

You've heard Childe mentioning he had a "part-time job" multiple times, which wasn't an unusual thing for university students. You knew it probably wasn't one of the big old classic jobs, like waiter or cashier, since he could do it from his room, but you thought that maybe he reviewed other students' assignments, edited videos or pics, or something like that. Surely, you didn't expect him to post porn videos.

It felt wrong to look at his channel, but you couldn't tear your gaze off it. The more you scrolled down the site, the more wrong you felt. You truly shouldn't be doing this. He's your stepbrother! The nice son of your mother's new husband, who always helps you with your assignments. The good cook who makes sure you've eaten and offers to come pick you up from your uni lessons. You knew you should have closed the tab, turned off your computer and tried to forget everything, but your eyes were glued to the screen, lips parted in shock. As you accidentally clicked on one of his videos and opened it, you couldn't help but notice how thick and long his cock looked. And how the pet names that slipped from his lips as he stroked his cock were the ones he usually used for you.

Wrong. It was wrong. But why did it make you feel so hot? Guilt couldn't stop you from bringing your hand down to your shorts, slipping under the hem to reach your panties, slowly rubbing circles on your clit. As he stroked his cock faster, sultry moans spilling from his lips, mixed with praises and degrading, you reached for your hole to find it already wet, the rush of adrenaline coming from doing something strictly forbidden adding to the pleasure. You slipped two fingers inside, curling them to rub against the spongy spot that made your toes curl.

♡

Ajax, or Childe, as his friends called him, often thought about you, his darling little sister. That's just what a good sibling does, right? But the way he thought about you would have made you run away from him.

Oh, how he wished he could bend you over and fill you with his cock every time you wore one of your little skirts. How his mouth watered at the sight of your pretty body lying, shirt riding up your tummy and tight little shorts doing nothing to hide the outline of your pretty pussy. How his dick ached as he pulled it out of his sweats, rubbing it to your sleeping form, that video quickly becoming the most viewed on his channel. Every time he pushed his steps to your room, just like now, he hoped to find you sleeping, or maybe changing, just to steal a peek at a portion of naked skin.

But today was the luckiest day ever. He stilled just before entering your room, an unusual sound startling him. He couldn't believe his ears as your soft moans reached them, his eyes widening, amazed. With one hand he slowly pushed the door open just enough to peek in, the sight inside rivaling his dirtiest dreams. You, lying back on your bed with your laptop open beside you, two fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, perfectly on display for him. He smirked and opened the door.

♡

You matched the pace of your fingers with the one of the hand stroking the thick cock on the screen, and it didn't take long for you to feel your climax building up. As your pussy began to flutter around your fingers, a small whine escaping from your mouth, you felt the door of your room open, and the cheerful voice of your stepbrother reached your ears.

You quickly tried to cover yourself, telling him to get out and don't look, but it was to no use.

"Hey, I was wondering- Oh? What's going on here? Didn't know you were a fan of mine. I would have offered you much sooner the real thing."

♡

taglist: @optimisticparadisegladiator @callinz @sashiavi @suoscafe @yourlocalgrimreapers-blog @stvryyy @weichspuelertrinker @pb-n-gay @i-am-silver @prosciuttosblog @uwucakeroll @sanatixangell @ghostlycaptainair (couldn’t tag)

>if you want to be added to the taglist, you can do so with a comment, an ask or a dm!

[theloveinc]

jo togame x reader - on possessiveness

(warning: she/her reader, pet names, alcohol, etc.)

-

Jo Togame has quite an odd way of showing possession over you.

He is, of course, always happy to fight with his fists when need be, but unlike some of his… friends, he doesn’t usually feel the need to use violence to show others that you belong to him.

In fact, if anyone asked you about it, you’d probably answer that you’d never even seen your boyfriend jealous—that even when you’re shaking your butt when you’re out with him in a skimpy little number, he’s cool as a cucumber, just like normal.

But that’s not entirely true, as there is a little something he pulls when he notices others paying attention to you the way only he ever should—

“Baby?”

Togame presses his hand against the warmth of your lower back, slow to let it creep down to the curve between your hip and ass as he approaches from behind. You’re leaning against the bar of the busy club, smiling sweetly at the bartender who’s currently adding extra cherries to only one of the two drinks you’ve ordered, now starting to sweat on the lacquered wood where they wait to be handed off.

You are a sight for sore eyes. In Togame’s mind, you always are, but there’s something about tonight especially that has you glowing and has seemingly everyone noticing. If he were anyone aside from your boyfriend, or he was two inches deeper in a nicer mood, it’s possible he wouldn’t be so … irked by the attention you’re receiving… but something about the way this stranger appears to be gunning for more than just a tip doesn’t sit right in his stomach.

“Jo!” you turn away from the show easily, smile going from cheeky to something soft when your eyes lock with his. You’re quick to abandon your previous conversation, full of what Togame observed were comments made for batting beautiful eyelashes and forcing giggles, and lean into him, standing on your tippies to press a kiss to the side of his mouth as a version of hello. “What are you doing? I was just about to find you.”

You’re not just a pretty thing, you’re a sweet thing too, and it’s clear you had no intention of finding yourself swept up into a conversation with the man mixing your drink, but nonetheless, anyone who runs tabs at a bar should be able to recognize when the only reason someone keeps responding to their frivolous comments is because they’re too polite to cut short a conversation.

“Is everything okay, my love?” you ask, as though it’s clear something is on Togame’s mind, and you thread your fingers through the soft hair at the back of his scalp to draw his attention back to you.

He has to suppress a grin thinking about the little show he’s giving your new friend.

“I’m not sure,” he responds, letting the words settle one by one, watching as worry starts to weigh down your brow. Though he’s more intent on keeping your focus away from anyone other from him, the bartender’s annoyed expression does not go unnoticed out of the corner of his eye. “The music’s making my head hurt, thinkin’ I might head out soon?”

“Oh no!” you suck in a sharp breath, your lips tightening in a concerned frown as you move to press the back of your hand to his forehead, “want me to come with?”

“It’s okay, baby. Stay. Enjoy yourself, alright?” he presses a kiss to your pout, maneuvering your hand from his face to hold to his chest. He milks the moment, pulls away from the lights, the noise, and the people to drink you in, and remind any animals who think they have a chance at something more than just your courtesy that they don’t, and never, ever will.

“No, no,” you break the silence, dropping your hands from him only to make sure your tiny purse is still attached to the chain hanging from your shoulder before linking his arm with yours, “I’m going. No reason to stay, anyway. Wanna make sure you’re okay.”

(Togame can imagine what will happen when you're home: you'll run him a hot and herbal bath, he'll coax you into the water with him, and the steam will get you both get light headed enough for the medicinal to turn into something more erotic—and by the time the both of you wake up tomorrow, naked, limbs sticky and tangled, he'll be perfectly refreshed.)

“Miss, your drinks?”

You’re half away step away when the bartender calls, but without letting go, you throw a couple hundred yen behind you without even a cold look back.

"You can dump them, sorry.”

And while you take the lead to the road, Togame looks over his shoulder and grins.

She picked me.

[revelboo]

I am absolutely in love with how you write both soundwave and starscream! I keep refreshing my tab looking for scraps XD

Aww, thanks!

Everything Is Alright Pt 42

Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

• Anxiety spinning him tight, he follows as Soundwave leads him back to his own quarters. Scenarios run through his processor as his servos flex. Attack and try to get you away from Soundwave. Assuming the communications officer hasn’t already tipped off Megatron, because surely he’d have heard it by now, he might be fast enough to snag you, but then what? Where can he go with you? And what if you’re hurt during the struggle? “Stop,” Soundwave growls as he lets himself into Starscream’s quarters as easily as if they’re his own. The slight not going unnoticed.

• Actively listening in on Starscream isn’t particularly pleasant, the other mech’s thoughts are a churning miasma of doubt, worry, and hatred chasing each other. The Seeker’s wings flick slightly at the order as he follows Soundwave inside, the door closing after to keep anyone from overhearing. “Give me my pet, right now,” Starscream growls, a hand held out, servos and wings faintly trembling despite the vehemence in his tone. Any wrong word or move and the SIC is liable to lash out like a cornered animal, risking you sleeping peacefully inside his cassette compartment.

• “Pet,” Soundwave echoes him, the communications officer eerily still as he presses a palm against his chassis where you’re hidden from view, the gesture almost protective. Infuriating. “There is no pet.” That tonal voice a growl of challenge. An admonishment and Starscream goes still as he realizes his act isn’t fooling Soundwave. Baring his denta, he wonders how long the communications officer has been rooting around in his processor. How much he’s seen. Enough to know you’re more than a pet, but does he know the rest yet? The things he wants? Needs? He remembers Soundwave bringing you things. Taking you to keep with him over and over. Like he might care what happens to you. Like you’re more than a novelty to him, too.

• “What do you think will happen if I just take my human back by force?” Starscream asks, raspy voice deepening with anger. “I’m sure that would draw a lot of attention.” A threat. One Soundwave knows the other mech won’t dare act on. “There’s nothing wrong with the current status quo. With sharing.” The look on the Seeker’s face clearly at odds with his own words, that hand still out in demand, servos slightly curled up, that tremor so faint it’s almost unnoticeable. Almost. Sharing might be acceptable, splitting your time between them. He can feel you inside his cassette compartment, a little spot of warmth as your sleeping mind washes into him in soft, almost reassuring waves. Feeling right.

• “Sharing acceptable,” Soundwave finally decides, before pointedly pushing past him. “Mine now,” he adds over his shoulder as Starscream’s wings flare out aggressively. But what can he do short of chasing the communications officer down the hall and tackling him. As tempting as it is, he grits his denta, waits until he’s sure Soundwave is far enough away to seize his chair from his desk and sling it across the room. Wings and hands shaking and no real outlet for all that frustration. Sharing what’s his? Never.

Previous

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[thecuriousbeauty]

i had a funny idea: harry catches his friend (co-worker/assistant/photographer or whatever) reading a dirty fanfic about him 🤭

He catches you reading fan fiction

Harry Styles x Assistant! reader

A/N:- Thank you for the request, anon! Loved writing this spicy blurb! Please like and reblog to support me, xx.

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: Dirty talk, fingering, spanking, daddy kink.

______________________________________________

“You’ve been such a naughty girl. What should I do with you, hm?”

You suck in a breath and clench your thighs together as you move your finger over your phone, scrolling down on the story you just found out. You had noticed a lot of fans at Harry’s concert holding up signs that said, Tumblr girls and you were curious. Little did you know that once you’d open the site, you’d fall down into a rabbit hole full of fan fiction.

And not just fanfic. You were reading the dirty ones. The smut, as it was called.

“What’d you feel like eating, babe?”

You look up from the phone quickly. You had not noticed that Harry was out of the bathroom after his shower and he was standing there, looking at you as he dried his hair. Little drops of water still clung to his sculpted torso and his legs. He only had boxers on. 

Harry smirks, noticing you’re distracted and throws the towel away before running his fingers through his curly locks and flipping them back. “Like what you see, love?”

You blushed and looked away, making Harry chuckle as he walked towards you. “No, it’s cute! You look all blushy and flustered. What were you doing?”

“I um, uh I was going through emails..”, you say, quickly looking down at your phone to change tabs, but Harry was quick. He smelled amazing, being just out of the shower. It was a gentle fragrance, but it gave you a luxurious feel. 

“Going through emails got you clenching your thighs, baby?”, Harry asked as he leaned over you on the bed. “I wonder what that email’s about.”

“Harry-”, you squeak as his eyes move to your phone screen, his forehead pressing against the side of yours as he reads it from your hands. “It’s silly, I was just checking out what this was all about.”

“Hm, fan fiction, huh? So what do you think? Is it good?”, he asks, a smile tugging at his lips as his green eyes look into yours. 

“Y-Yeah. I’m sorry Harry, t-this must be awkward for you, I’ll-”

“-No, no, it’s not awkward, this is pretty interesting.”, he hums, settling beside you and starting to kiss down your jawline to your neck.His hand rides up your skirt. “Has it made you wet?”

You gasp as his fingers press onto your cover over your panties. His teeth nibble on the skin of your neck before his tongue laps over the mark he left, and you moan softly, parting your legs as his fingers slip inside your panties and stroke over your folds. 

“You’re soaking, baby girl. Guess you’re really enjoying reading this, right?” You didn’t get a chance to answer as he slipped two fingers inside you, starting to pump them in and out of you. “Were you imagining me doing all this to you?”, he asks. “Hm, baby?”

“Y-Yes, daddy.” Harry’s eyes turn darker with lust as the name rolls off your lips so easily. 

“Start reading darling, from the beginning.”, he tells you, adjusting your body so that you are in between his legs, your back pressing to his chest and your legs spread, letting him toy with your pussy. 

“W-What?” 

“You heard me.”, he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, the other hand sneaking under your top to grab a hold of your breast. You weren’t wearing a bra, so he had easy access.

You swallow hard, before bringing your phone up so you can start reading. Harry kept scissoring his fingers inside you and playing with your nipples while his lips sucked on the soft skin in the back of your neck, making it harder and harder for you to read.

“A-And then he curled his fingers, stroking over the spot that could make her unfold in seconds..” You moaned as Harry did exactly that, his fingers petting over your grainy spot. “Is that the spot?”, he asks, even though he knows the answer. 

“Y-Yes..please..”, you throw your head back in pleasure.

“Read, baby. You can cum if y/n gets to cum.” You groaned, knowing you wouldn’t last long. 

“Just as she’s about to cum, he r-removes his fingers. N-Naughty girls don’t get to cum, t-they get punished.” 

You whine as Harry moves his hands away, and you drop the phone, turning to look back at him. “I-I was so close! Please Harry-”

“Ah, ah, what did you call me earlier?”, he strokes his thumb over your bottom lip. 

“Daddy.”, you squeeze his arm. “P-Please let me cum.”

“It’s not up to me baby, it’s up to the writer.” He leans forward to give you a soft kiss. “ Now stop whining, and continue reading like a good girl. Daddy wants to know what happens next.”

You whimper as he pulls you back against his chest. You really hoped the writer showed some mercy to y/n, or you were going to have a hard time tonight. It was all just too much. Harry was being so hot. You loved this, and you wanted this to keep going on, but god, you needed that release.

“H-He bends over his lap and flips up her skirt, hand stroking over the plump of her ass before landing the first strike. 'Naughty girls get spanked.”

A shiver ran down your spine as you read it. You can also feel Harry getting hard, his member was prodding hard against your ass. Harry groaned. “You know what to do, love. Up you get. Take off your top and bend over my lap.”

You thought you could cum from just hearing that. When you don’t move, he takes your chin, eyes peering into yours to check if you’re still okay with this. “I-I like it.”, you give him a small smile, assuring him. 

“Good. Let me know if you wanna stop, okay?” You nod and kiss him before getting up and taking your top off. Harry scooted to the edge of the bed and patted his thighs. “Take your phone too, you’re not gonna stop reading, baby.”

You grabbed the phone before bending over his thighs and he adjusts you so your ass is propped up. He flips your skirt up, running his hand over your soft, bare, skin. Your panties had already been discarded long ago. 

 “Such a cute little arse. Gonna look so pretty with my handprints on it, right baby?”

“Y-Yes daddy, mark me up..”, you hum and Harry groans, giving your right cheek a squeeze before lifting his hand in the air and bringing it back down with a smack. You let out a small yelp, but the pain quickly fades into pleasure as Harry rubs his hand over the sting. 

“Feels good, daddy, more..”, you moan, and he slaps your other cheek. “Dirty little slut. I bet you’re gonna cum from getting your ass spanked by your daddy.”

You were a mess over his lap, moaning and mumbling his name. His hand grips your ass cheek, fingers digging into the supple flesh as his other hand fists around your hair and lifts your head up. 

 “What’re you waiting for? I thought I told you to read.”

You moaned as he let your head drop, giving you another slap as you struggled to keep reading. You really should’ve picked a shorter fic.

____________________________________________

Taglist:-@livypops12352568 @harrydeary, @harryswifee, @harrysbxtchh, @gracelovesethan, @kiwitsayedsugar, @angeldavis777,@madstyles3204, @youngpastafanmug (Lemme know if you want me to add your name to the taglist!)

[shizuturnspages]

Hi, your headcanons are literally so good?😭 I was wondering if you got some for Capitano🙏🙏 If you don’t write for him that’s okay!!!

Omggg yesss of courseeee i love Capitano!!!!

Yandere Capitano

❥ Capitano’s obsession with you is fucking absolute. He doesn’t need to say much—hell, he’s probably not the type to waste words at all. His actions speak for him. When he wants you, he fucking has you, and nothing, and no one, will ever change that. You’re his, completely and irrevocably. He’ll watch over you with that deadly silence, and you’ll feel his presence like a fucking weight on your chest. It’s intense, suffocating, and you’ll never escape his grasp.

❥ Capitano doesn’t trust the other Harbingers, and that shit’s amplified when it comes to you. He knows they’re all backstabbing, manipulative fucks, and he won’t let anyone near you, especially Il fucking Dottore. That guy’s twisted as hell, always scheming with his experiments and creepy obsessions, and Capitano’s aware of every damn look Dottore sends your way. If that bastard even thinks about getting close, Capitano’s ready to fucking end him. No second chances, no warnings—he’ll make sure no one, especially Dottore, ever lays a hand on what’s his.

❥ Capitano’s always fucking watching. He doesn’t need to be glued to your side because he’s got his soldiers, his eyes, everywhere. Nothing happens without his knowledge. You might think you’re alone, but he’s got tabs on you at all times. If any of the other Harbingers try to get too close or influence you in any way? Capitano’s already fucking there, ready to crush anyone who dares. He doesn’t trust them, and he sure as hell won’t let you fall into their traps.

❥ When it comes to Capitano, his affection is fucking powerful. He’ll pin you against the wall, his imposing presence looming over you, letting you know in no uncertain terms that you’re his. His touch is rough, possessive, and commanding. There’s no softness here—he’s a man who takes what he wants, and when it comes to you, he’s not holding back. Every touch, every fucking look, it’s all pure dominance. And you’ll feel that intensity in every fiber of your being.

❥ Capitano’s influence is inescapable. You can try to run, try to hide, but it’s fucking useless. His control extends far and wide, and you’ll always find yourself being dragged back to him. And deep down? You’ll start to crave that control, that feeling of being completely fucking owned by someone as powerful as him. Because as terrifying as his obsession is, there’s a sick comfort in knowing that he’ll protect you, even if it means fucking obliterating anyone who gets in his way.

❥ Capitano’s got a possessive streak that runs deeper than anyone could guess, and here’s the fucked-up part—he’s got a secret room, cold and barren like the man himself, where he keeps mementos of you. It could be something as small as a strand of hair, or maybe an object you once touched. But to him? It’s a fucking altar to his obsession. And if you ever found it? Oh, you’re not getting out of there until he makes sure you understand exactly how much you belong to him, body and soul. You’ll be his forever, locked away in the icy grip of his love.

[wh1sp3rr]

giving katsuki a massage! + [1.6k wc]

ೀ masterlist ೀ requests ೀ

he’s sat by his oaky desk, shiny finish decked high with towers of books. his back congruent with the soft cushioning of his chair. black-rimmed glasses tipping of his nose as his laptop’s screen burns into his pupils. twenty or so tabs open, completely organised in his eyes, and the click clackity click of his keyboard. a hum that’s been prolonged for hours.

you get up from your comfortable place in his bed, leaving the snuggly warmth your body had adjusted itself to and move behind katsuki, peering over his shoulder to see what exactly he was working on.

he’d told you it was the latest assignment aizawa had set out and, against your better judgement, rather than set out to finish it promptly like a good student, you procrastinated and wandered into your boyfriend’s dormitory 'by accident’ so you say and found yourself already eased by his presence.

though you did have to beg him to let you in.

“you’re gonna distract me.” is what he said, his reading glasses already on and arms crossed.

but you argued and pleaded with him, “no, katsuki, i won’t! please, just let me stay. i’ll be on my phone the whole time, you won’t even know i’m there.”

but he wanted to know you were there he thought. he stared at you for a minute. pondered on whether or not this was a good idea. and he knew it wasn’t. he knew that.

but then you brought your hand up to his, pinkie finger stuck out and said in that cutesy voice of yours, ‘promise.’

he glanced at it, eyes meeting yours then your little finger again and his tough facade cracked with a sigh, not long before he locked his pinkie with your own then smoothly brought your hand closer and laced his fingers with yours, squeezing firmly and affirming a soft, “promise.” the word having a light airy feel on your knuckles as he brought his lips to your hand.

so now, two hours later, katsuki still very much locked in on the task at hand you decided enough was enough.

your careful eyes watch the words he types. aloud, you read the passage he’s just completed, “and thus agrarian economies shifted to industrial productions ultimately redefining labor dynamics within an early britain still used to traditional artisan roles.” you look down at him, still as ever, almost as if waiting for your verdict.

“feels like a good place to call it, kats. the end?”

he shakes his head, answers without looking back at you and continues typing, slightly adjusting the wording so it sounds smoother. “nah. still needs another paragraph.”

“katsuki, your paragraphs are like 50 lines long!” you complain, slight whine in your tone. he didn’t like when you did that.

“well that’s what a paragraph is.” he moves his head to the side so you can hear him better.

“no, it’s not!”

he deletes a few words and types again, reworking the sentence.

“and so, agrarian economies moved to industrial production, redefining labor dynamics in early britain still familiar with traditional artisan roles.” he mutters, rereading it to himself to test it’s fluency, see if it sounds the way he wants it to.

“baby, you need a break.” your words are laced with genuine concern. “look at how tense your shoulders are.” you bring your hands to them and immediately he relaxes, your touch alleviating him.

you take this as an opportunity to run your fingers through his hair, deep pulls of tufts from the roots at his scalp to the very tips. he leans into your touch, groans quietly as you knead and massage his head, something very much needed, but then he remembers he’s still got this paper due and forcibly shocks himself up.

“promised me you weren’t gonna be a distraction.” he says firmly, hands gently pulling your own away from his hair.

“did i?” you playfully remark, squint your eyes a bit. you bend your knees and bring yourself to his level, paw at his hair once more and rake it behind his ear. his side profile was so handsome, jaw sharp and clenched.

“why don’t you take five and chill with me for a bit? maybe i can give you a massage, okay?” you kiss below his ear and watch his jaw loosen slightly. not as tight nor as tense.

“i’m gonna need more than five. especially if you’re gonna give me a massage,” he finally breaks, giving you that eye contact that made the butterflies in your tummy flutter at long last.

you giggle, “exactly!”

you sweeten your tone, drawl your vowels, “come on, please?”

he knows what you’re doing and it’s working. he smiles in a ‘you’ve got me, hands up’ sort of way and (falsely) begrudgingly turns his chair to face you with said smile.

you pull him up easily and he lets you drag him to his bed. happily flop down on it.

his hand finds its place on your thigh, the other by the dip of your waist. you enjoy the feeling. how firm his hold was and yet still ever so careful, like he was only focusing on you and how small you were in his large hands.

soon you lift your hands and cross them at the wrists behind katsuki’s neck, keep a close proximity between your noses. “lie down,” you simply say, quickly eyeing the mattress, crimson cover pulled tightly over it, very katsuki-esque.

defeated, he obliges. lets his chest meet the bed and stretches his long legs out, you kneeling to the side to make room.

once he’s finally sprawled out, you let your pelvis sit atop his, “sorry if i’m too heavy.”

he laughs heartily, the one that always makes your heart melt and you weak in the knees, “oh, shut up.” his sentence rumbles with the buzz of his laughter to which you offer him a soft smile, despite the fact that he can’t see your face.

“mmm, can you tell me where you feel the most tightness?” you ask politely.

he hums, then gestures to his upper back, around his shoulder blades, that sort of general area. “it’s mostly just my shoulders like you said. and a bit down here too.” he hovers his hand over where your knees rest on opposite sides of his waist.

without saying anything, you quickly start. first spreading your hands over the tight muscle by his shoulders repeatedly. you know you’re doing a good job when you hear katsuki’s relieved groans. letting out all that pressure and stress that’s built up in his body.

your hands slowly drag down the form of his body, thumbs kneading in on his lower back. again, another groan sounds from katsuki’s lips. “ahh, just like that, baby.”

you blush, thinking of the many times that sentence has been uttered in a very different context but you enjoy making your boyfriend feel good in any way. enjoy how his breathing becomes deeper the more you move your hands.

“it’ll feel better if you take your shirt off,” you suggest.

“mmm, yeah…" he nods, "yeah, you’re probably right.” he gets up and you slide off him easily. watch him coolly tug the black cotton material over his head, eyes glaze over when you see his taut body underneath, finally unveiled.

katsuki flops back into the mattress face down as soon as he chucks the fitted tee away, he’s clearly enjoying his break.

you chuckle, “didn’t i tell you? you should’ve stopped over an hour ago,” you step back over him so your pelvises are connected again.

he grabs your thigh, face still deep into the mattress so his voice is muffled, “i know, you’re right, baby. ya always are.” your cheeks grow warm at the sincerity of his tone.

you repeat your massaging motions with your soft hands, feel the vibration of his moans through his flesh before bringing your lips close to between his shoulder blades. “awh, baby,” he says, “gotta pay you back for this somehow. maybe i’ll marry ya after we graduate.”

“yeah? that a fact?” you tease.

“yup.” he rubs his hand up and down over your leg. “can take your last name or you can have mine. whichever you prefer.”

“hmm. hyphenate?”

“your choice, darling.”

you sigh contently, “always love when you call me that,” you say quietly as you continue pressing into his tender tissue.

“i’ll call you it more often then,” his hand slips down and easily wraps round your ankle, his thumb rolls circles into the bone as his fingers clasp against the slight dip in your foot.

“you mind getting up so i can kiss you?”

you giggle, “nope,” holding your ground.

he moves from underneath you anyway and quickly grabs you before you can run away. “come here, you,” he playfully grunts.

your laugh is melodious in his ears, he’d do anything to hear more of it. his favourite sound. among others.

he cups your face before you can escape and kisses you passionately. you grab at his wrists, smile still lifting your cheeks and stretching the skin around your eyes taut.

it’s heated at first but then slows into something more intimate and raw, almost innocent. he then pulls away from your lips and plasters smooches all over your face. each kiss louder than the last as you simper each time.

when he stops, he’s still holding your face. his eyes watching how the highlights in yours grows, iris thin in how full the pupils are, he sees his own reflection in them and your pretty smile.

“i love you.” he says, unabashedly.

you lean into his touch, kiss his palm, “i love you, too.” your small hand over his much larger one holding your cheeks. “let’s go to sleep?” you ask, looking at him through your lashes.

his smile is sweet when he strokes the skin by your eye for no particular reason other than to just feel more of you, “yeah.” kisses you there. “let’s go to sleep.”

© WHISPER 2K24 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

[catscraaatch]

₊˚ପ⊹ put it on my tab

sum: Nanami can't keep his eyes off the pretty little thing across the bar. the way that dress hugs her curves, the way her lips wrap around the straw of her drink...and....is that a ring on her finger?...wc: 2.8k

includes: fem reader, role-playing, strangers to lovers (?) scenario, exhibitionism, praise, cheesy flirting, breeding, bathroom sex mdni.

“rum and coke please.” you’re sat at the bar, the short black dress you’re wearing riding up your thighs as you adjust yourself on the stool, surveying the room. You look around the dimly lit bar, bodies pressed against bodies, moving in tandem to the beat of the music playing over the speakers.

You scan the room, looking around as if you’re on the prowl for someone to approach you; to see the way that little dress hugs your curves, to appreciate all the time spent smudging your eyeliner just right, glossing your plump lips. Looking around as if you don’t feel his eyes on you already.

Nanami is sat at a table a mere 10 feet away from you, lidded eyes peering over the rim of his glass, drinking in the sight of you. pretty thing, pretending to be so nonchalant, so oblivious to all the lingering glances random passerby's give you; scanning you up and down, practically undressing you with their eyes. if only they stopped and looked with their eyes and not their dicks they’d see the ring on your finger– see that despite your vulnerable gaze and lax demeanor, you’re already his.

you and nanamis sex life was amazing– more than that, truly. With a handful of years of marriage under your belt you still kept things exciting, your relentless attraction to each other an undeniable plus. you were more than satisfied. he was more than satisfied, in all aspects of your relationship. but every now and then you both liked to…venture a bit outside of your norm. ‘keep the spark alive’ you’d say. as if the spark could ever dull, let alone die. the man was absolutely enamored with you, bewitched in every way of the word. he thinks obsessed might be a good word for it too.

which is why when you suggested you two go to the bar and pretend to be strangers– he was all in. He stole glances at you as you slipped into your dress for the night, watched you dust your cheeks with blush and toe on your heels, grab your purse and head out of the door of your shared home, wordlessly sending him a wink behind your back. it was all apart of your little game; one that he was not unfamiliar with. Pretending to ‘bump into each other’ when you were at the grocery store, coming into his office at work to bring him lunch, running your fingers over the papers on his desk, asking if there was anything his “secretary” could do for him. it always ended the same. him buried deep inside of you, falling in love with you all over again on his own volition; the roleplay completely disregarded. tonight was no different.

you finally catch his gaze from across the bar, sending him a soft smile and a tinkling little wave. He takes that as his opportunity to approach you, his expression remaining stoic as he slowly stands from his seat, setting his almost empty glass down and sauntering over to you, his eyes darkened by the dim light of the bar. his expression softens as he leans against the bar top next to you, shameless eyes roaming over your form. The bartender sets your drink down, oblivious to the scene playing out in front of him.

 “you just gonna stare at me or you gonna introduce yourself?” you chuckle at nanami’s shameless wandering eyes, grabbing your drink and wrapping your lips around the straw. his gaze follows the action closely before traveling back up to meet yours. 

“Kento.” he says simply, his gazed still locked onto yours. 

something possessive lingers in his stare, one that has your breath quickening just the littlest bit. you tell yourself to pull it together– you don't even know the man for Christ's sake. “that your first name or last name?” you ask, your mind registering it as the latter, wondering why he'd introduce himself informally to a stranger. “first” he says. you squint, smirking as you set your drink down before turning back to him, resting your arm on the bar and propping your chin on your hand. “quite informal of you, ken.” the nickname leaves your glossed lips so heavenly, the sound of it gracing his ears and making his stomach flutter. weak man. 

 he pauses for a beat, his own mouth pulling into that handsome little smirk of his. “figured we'd be well acquainted with each other soon enough.” he quips back. the beat of the conversation goes on like a tennis match, throwing sultry flirts back and forth at each other, all while your eyes stay trained on the other, the music and chatter of the bar muffled by the tension between the two of you. there's something so thrilling about the scenario; playing along with this little game, a secret only you two share. to anyone paying attention it would look like a natural occurrence; two attractive people stealing glances at each other from across the bar, flirting back and forth before eventually heading home together, and everyone knows how that usually ends. 

what makes this even more exciting is the fact that you do know each other– all too well. the fact that you both know just how to make the other tick, know what words and gentle grazes of skin makes your pulse quicken and the room that much hotter– alcohol be damned. nanami knew the way his lidded eyes drank you in, the way he oozes confidence like he knew he was taking you home, knew you belonged to him, made you press your legs together on the bar stool you were sat on. you were doing it right now; his eyes trailed down your body before landing on your clenched thighs. he dragged his eyes back up, taking a step closer to you and leaning in, warm breath tickling the shell of your ear,

 “meet me in the bathroom in 5 pretty girl. you can call me any name you want.”

 his barritone voice and sultry words send a shiver down your back, the arousal pooling in your stomach in a thick wave of heat. all you can do is nod at him dumbly, your previous seductive nature gone with the wind; nanami always knew how to get you going for him. always playing along with the game– there’s no winners or losers, you’d end up fucking each others brains out either way. but if there were, nanami would be the champ. no matter the scenario, he was always gonna get what was his.

like clockwork, 5 minutes later, (4..maybe 3 and a half– patience was not a virtue you possessed in any sense when it came to this man) you find yourself pressed against the locked door of the bar bathroom stall. Nanami’s big hands pulling at the fabric of your dress, your leg slung around his hip as he trails feverish open mouthed kisses down the expanse of your jaw. He was starving for you. the thrill of the chase making all of his blood pump south, straining against the material of his pants as he slowly grinds his hips into you. 

“you look beautiful tonight darling, all dolled up for me” his words following each kiss he leaves on your throat, his hands digging into the fat of your hips as his movements become more impatient. “all for you ken” you breath out, panting as his mouth explores your body, letting out a breathy moan as he trails back up to your ear, tugging at the lobe with a quiet growl. “you feel all those eyes on you sweetheart? feel like you were here alone, just waiting for someone to pull this tight little dress off of you?” his hands trail up your thigh still hitched around his leg, sliding the fabric up, up, up. his fingers danced at the edge of your already soaked panties. you buck your hips into him, throwing your head back against the stall door. 

“impatient little thing” he chides, that familiar smirk on his face. “this needy for a man you just met.” he draws from the crook of your neck, his eyes bore into yours as he reaches down to pull at the buckle of his belt. metal clinking and the sounds of both of your heavy breaths filling the space of the bathroom. “turn around.” he breathes out, the carnal need in his voice unmistakable as you slowly turn to pin yourself against the stall door, bracing your hands on the cool surface, your pulse beating rapidly. he’s on you immediately. pressing you fully against the door, his mouth latching back on to the sensitive skin of your neck and his hard cock pressing against your ass where your dress had ridden up.

“f-fuck ken” you whine, relishing in the feeling of him all over you. he was everywhere, invading your senses completely. his lips on you, the familiar scent of his cologne filling your nose, his deep breaths in your ear, and his hands. god his hands– rubbing wherever he could reach. his fingers dance against your hips before pulling your dress up and over your ass, grabbing at the hem of your underwear where they meet your thigh, tugging them to the side and letting out a gutteral groan from the back of his throat “god, look at you darling” you could feel his eyes on your soaked pussy, making you squirm beneath him, throbbing in want. you were a mess, slick threatening to dribble down your bare thigh just from nanami’s touch. he presses himself impossibly closer against you, his chest flush with your back. “so wet for me, such a messy girl. don’t be shy now baby, tell me what you want. need to hear you say it” you whine quietly, needy hole clenching around nothing as you push your ass against his crotch.

 “please ken, please need you. want it inside.” you mindlessly babble, nanami grinning at your bold impatience. you step it up, craning to look back at him, resting a hand against his cheek and pulling him in for a sloppy kiss, tongues tangling together as you pant into eachother’s open mouth. you pull apart, nanami’s head reeling and his hands gripping at the fabric of your hiked up dress, right at the edge of his limit. so eager, and so, fucking hard. 

“fuck me.” you whisper, and he’s instantly a goner.

he tugs his aching cock out of his slacks, hissing when the cool air hits his leaking tip. he gives himself a few short tugs before pressing the tip against your entrance. nanami is dizzy with the feeling of your warm walls clenching around him, tight heat sucking him in so good he’s shocked his knees haven’t buckled. you let out a moan as he fully bottoms out in you, slapping a hand over your own mouth. he growls as you clench around him, leaning in to speak against the shell of your ear. “let me hear those pretty sounds darling,” he pants, removing your hand from your mouth and gently wrapping his own around your neck, pulling you even further down onto his cock as his hips find a steady rhythm. in and out. “let all those men out there hear how much you love my cock. you love it don’t you?” you can only nod, your jaw slack and your eyes pinched closed as he rolls his hips into yours, swollen tip just grazing that tender spot inside of you.

“words, baby.” nanami breathes out, his fingers around your throat tightening ever so slightly, his thrusts picking up in pace making him hit your g spot dead on, your weak legs already threatening to give out underneath you. “y-yes! fuck. yes ken. love your fucking cock” you force out, moaning and whining freely as he fucks you against the wall. his eyes travel down your spine, watching the way your plush ass bounces and ripples with each thrust of his hips before his gaze lands and where the two of you are connected. he slows his movement down for a split second making you whimper, convulsing around him. he watches your pretty pussy take him so well, your shiny slick covering his entire cock, a combined mess of slick and precum forming a pretty white ring around the base. god, he loved you. 

the sight only made him fuck you harder, angling his hips up to hit that bundle of nerves over and over, wanting to see you add to the mess threatening to drip down his shaft. the cacophony of your desperate moans and soaked pussy hitting the both of your ears, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. you squeeze around him, your eyes fluttering back into their sockets as he pounds you halfway to heaven. 

he notices the way you tense up, your sounds getting higher in pitch, knows you’re right on that edge. his hand sneaks around you, rubbing tight circles over your clit and you nearly scream at the stimulation, your knees buckling under you. “right th-there ken, fuck– ‘m so close” you whine.

“right here darling? you gonna make a pretty mess for me, hm?” his warm breath is washing over your neck in short pants, so close to his own release, his hot tip leaking as he pounds into you, adding to the mess and the lewd wet noises emitting from you. his other hand trails upward, joining the other one and wrapping around your throat, squeezing harder now, using it as leverage to fuck you back into him. just the way you liked. you pulsate around his cock, sucking in gasps of air. you feel the coil in your belly tighten, your orgasm hitting you like a semi truck without warning. spasming all over nanami’s dick like you’re trying to milk him for all he’s worth.

nanami groans at the feeling, swollen cock head nearly slipping out of you at the force of your climax. he fucks you through it, his hips relentless as your shaky legs finally give out on you, one of his hands leaving your throat to wrap around your waist snugly, holding you up as he continues to pound into you. 

“thaaat’s it, atta girl” he says breathlessly, pulling your chin toward him, kissing you sloppily and sucking your tongue into his mouh with a slutty moan– you clench around him at the sound, needy pussy still sucking him in so good even after cumming. he pulls away with a pained noise, his head ducking into the crook of your neck as his thrusts quicken, chasing his release. 

“mm– ‘m gonna cum soon sweetheart, keep squeezing me like that” he pants. he continues to piston his cock into you, breathless moans falling out of him unabashedly, not caring who hears as he buries himself deep inside of you one last time, cursing as the head of his cock kisses your cervix, hot spurts of cum spilling into you. you let out the prettiest noises as he fills you up, your combined mess starting to drip down your thigh, landing in a lewd puddle on the bathroom floor. his head is still buried into your neck as he slows his hips, his chest heaving as he finds his breath.

“god sweetheart–” he sighs, pulling his cock out of you with a hiss, grabbing your hips and spinning you around to face him. he takes in your fucked out face, cheeks flushed and eyes glossy. you look stunning, he thinks. he pulls you in for a sweet kiss, like you’re the most precious thing in the world– which to him you are– like you didn’t just let him fuck your brains out in a bar bathroom stall. you moan into the kiss, trailing your hands down his chest and abdomen before pulling away, staring into his bleary eyes before getting down on your knees in front of him. you smile up at him innocently, leaning in and pressing hot open mouthed kisses to his now softened cock. his gaze is dark as he stares down at you, his lips parting as you take him into your mouth, cleaning up the mess you made.

“oh darling– you fucking minx.” he rasps, his large hand coming down to lay against your cheek, his thumb grazing it softly. you finish your little show, standing to your feet and pulling your dress back down over your ass with a giggle. your husband smiles at the sound, shaking his head and pecking you on the lips again.

“you’re gonna be the death of me one day.” he chuckles.

the both of you head out of the bathroom after getting fixed up. you walk hand in hand, your legs still slightly wobbly as you make your way through the crowd of unsuspecting bar patrons. nanami stops in front of the bar, the bartender looking between the two of you, his eyes stopping on your smudged makeup and once perfectly styled hair now skewed, before turning to nanami– the top three buttons on his shirt undone, his lips slightly stained in a pretty pink color, the same as the lipstick that was once on yours– now long rubbed off.

nanami gives him a friendly smile, sliding his card toward him on the bar top.

“put it on my tab.”