#where to buy a wrist brace

[flexinorth]

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[chlorinecake]

am in love w ur work<3 can u do an enha x reader ff, where they're dating a very feminine y/n who's also insecure? yk like them comforting y/n etc etc?

「 𓍯𓂃 A 𝒢UIDE TO OVERCOMING YOUR INSECURITIES 」

──── 🪽 𓂃 𓈒 step one: date 1 / 7 members of 엔하이픈

🪞 ( . . path to bookshelf ◍ ) 𓄼 be the best version of you .ᐟ g𝓮nre. fluff, comfort, est. dating, fem.r ﹙ 🧺 . . . ﹚. 美しさ skinship & kisses 350 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽s each ✩ ✩ ✩

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 for my melanated queens; “God, I look terrible in this picture,” you sighed miserably at the couple photo before you, zooming in closer on your screen to get a better look. “I'm literally lost in the background…”

“Let me see,” your boyfriend offered, bracing himself behind you as he peered over your shoulder. “Baby… you look beautiful here, what’re you talking about?” He practically chuckled, somewhat humored that you thought the picture was bad when it was clearly fine.

“I’m talking about my complexion,” you sighed, shutting off your phone out of frustration, “Maybe we should only go on dates when it’s sunny outside so I don’t look like a shadow next to you by time we take a picture…” That's when Heeseung felt his heart drop at your words, pouty lips partingas he asked, “Why would you say such a thing, ____? I love how healthy your complexion looks…”

“I know, but—”

“No buts,” he interrupted, walking from behind you and guiding your chin towards his. “Did someone say something to make you feel this way, love?” You struggled to meet his sincere doe eyes as your own weak ones were on the verge of tears.

With a crack in your voice, you finally spoke, “No, Heeseung… I’ve always felt this way, I just never said anything til now…”

“And are those insecurities motivated by your own standards or by what society has poisoned you to believe?”

You got quiet at his question, knowing deep down that you never had an issue with your skin color and that it was something the world had made you feel...

“Look at your beautiful hands in mine,” he continued, shattering your inner thoughts as he drew your attention to his hands holding yours. “Please don’t think your skin color is something we need to work around… especially not for a silly picture…”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling your stomach flutter as he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a loving kiss to your wrist. “So,” you started in a soft voice, his gentle eyes looking back up at you, “can I at least delete the picture then?”

“Fine,” Heeseung smiled through a complying breath, wiping the moisture from the corner of your eye with his thumb, “but only because I’m planning a date for us to take more photos later…”

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 for the frequent bad hair days; “Gosh, this is why I need to go bald one day,” you sulked, tossing your hairbrush to the ground in a fit of exhaustion, “otherwise, I'll never be able to make my hair look right...”

“It looks pretty to me, baby,” Jay smiled upon meeting you in the bathroom, the frustrated clatter of your hair products having caught his attention. “What style are you going for anyways?” Your boyfriend hugged you from behind, placing a tender kiss to the crown of your head.

Reaching for your phone that sat on the bathroom vanity, you showed it to Jay. “Here’s the reference picture,” you sighed, feeling yourself calm down slightly as he held you in his arms, “I just have so many fly-aways today that the gel won’t even hold them in place...”

Jay's eyes scanned your reflection in the mirror, comparing it back and forth to the reference photo, “Easy fix, princess. We’ll just have to buy better products.”

“But it’s not just that… my split ends—”

“Then I’ll schedule you an appointment at the salon today…”

Your shoulders fell at your boyfriend's words. You knew he was only trying to make things better, but you still felt insecure. “Hey, look at me ____,” he whispered, voice light as a feather as he caressed your side, “my girl always deserves the best... especially if it’ll make her feel better about herself… got it?”

A smile spread across your face as Jay's fingers playfully tickled your waist.

In reality, no, you couldn’t get your hair right every time, but the hair you had suited you best, and simply required a little more tender love and care…

“Sooo, no salon date today?” He asked, watching your features.

You scoffed at his question, “No, we’re definitely still going… I’ll just make sure to embrace my natural hair this time.”

“And as you should, baby,” Jay smirked, kissing you one last time before his hands left your side, “I’ll go get the car keys...”

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 for the curvy girls; “Whatchya lookin' for?” Jake asked from the bed, watching as you searched through your shared drawers for anything big enough to swamp your entire body. “I’m too big for all of my clothes now, so I need to find something that's large but still cute...”

“Oh...” your boyfriend's voice trailed off as he got out of bed to meet you on the floor. “That’s why I always let you wear my hoodies, baby. Here,” he offered, pulling the white hoodie over his head and revealing a bit of his toned stomach before he shimmyied the oversized hoodie over your head. “So... can I cuddle with my adorable girlfriend all day like we planned now?”

You blushed slightly at his compliment, taking Jake's hand in yours as he helped you up from the ground, “Yes, but only if you promise not to put your hands on my stomach like you usually do...”

His eyes widened at your odd request, “I thought you liked it when I cuddled your tummy?”

He pulled you against his chest, but the physical contact only made you squirm with discomfort, “Please don’t call it that, baby…” The words left your mouth with such pain, his heart sinking at the sad look that washed over your features…

“I don’t get it ____, what’s going on?” Your boyfriend pressed with concern, releasing you from his hold to simply hold your hands.

“It's not like you'd understand where I’m coming from anyways...”

He frowned at your words, just as you watched with weak eyes while he pulled out a top from your drawer, holding it before your eyes. “You see this? You’re not too big for your clothes, but your clothes are too small for you…”

“Yea, but I used to be able to fit all of those…” You sulked in defense.

“And your body is just going through a normal change and has granted you with gorgeous curves… all we have to do now is accommodate for them..”

You thought on his words for a moment, a feeling of guilt washing over you after you realized you'd snapped on him earlier when he was only trying to help.

He placed a gentle kiss to your forehead, pulling you back into his warmth before whispering, “Please, be more kind to your body, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded with a sniffle, tightening your arms around him.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 for the giggles often hidden behind one’s palm; You and Sunghoon were sitting on the couch in your shared apartment living room, legs intertwined in a string of flesh like always as and it was your turn to laugh when your boyfriend retold one of the craziest stories from his prior days as an Italian restaurant waiter.

“And the guy had such a nerve to order 150 bucks worth of steak to then leave a measly fifty cent tip…” his voice trailed off, smiling to himself as he watched you struggle to maintain your laughter, a shy hand flying to cover your mouth.

“Sorry, sorry,” you said while giggling, cheeks hurting a bit from trying to hold back your emotions, “you can continue…”

He looked at you with confusion, his thick, dark brows screwing in the center of his face, “Wait… why’re you apologizing for laughing, baby?”

“Oh…I…” you started, startled by his question, “I guess… I just don’t like hearing my laugh sometimes?… plus it makes my face scrunch up and look all weird when I smile…”

“Stop, your laugh is gorgeous and so is your smile, what’re you talking about?” He scoffed, leaning back against the arm of the couch and crossing his arms.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend,” you sighed, untangling your legs from his and bring your knees to your chest.

“Sure, but that’s only part of the reason,” Sunghoon corrected, readjusting himself on the couch so he could be closer to you as he spoke, “it’s true, y’know?” He said before tickling your ankle, making you smile once again, “I bet that makes you feel better already, doesn’t it?”

You looked down before meeting his sincere gaze, feeling your heart flutter in your chest as he squished your face together with his hand.

“Yes… it does,” you giggled through the pouty lips his fingers forced you to make, making him chuckle a bit to himself before leaning in to peck your forehead first, then your nose, before finally, your lips…

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 for the spots makeup can't conceal; “Ugh,” you groaned with frustration, letting out a sigh as you aggressively wiped at your face with a makeup wipe, “this foundation is supposed to be full coverage!... God, now I'm gonna have to leave the house looking like a complete troll...”

“Excuse me?” Sunoo asked from beside you while adjusting his tie, a glint of amusement in his hazel eyes despite the concerned nature of his voice.

“I don't mean to be dramatic, but I swear the mirror hates me...” You exclaimed, tossing the dirty makeup wipe in the trash can while internally dreading the fact that you were having a terrible hormonal breakout today.

Sunoo's delicate hands left his neck tie to grab the package of wipes and pull out a few for you.

“The mirror has no feelings, sweetie... only you do,” your boyfriend chuckled at the pouty look on your face, guiding your head upward as he gently wiped away the remaining smears of makeup from your skin.

“Besides, you don't need to wear all this stuff anyway,” he whispered this time, the most loving look in his eyes as he caressed your cheek, “you're naturally gorgeous to me...”

He let his thumb graze over your lower lip before leaning down a little further from where he stood, pressing a tender kiss to your plush lips.

“You're lucky you didn't turn into a frog after doing that,” you giggled, playfully smacking his shoulder as you both noticed the pink hue rising to your cheeks... a hue that would've otherwise been covered by makeup.

Smiling at your words, he handed you a bar of soap and a towel, “I'm glad we don't have time for you to contour or conceal anything, so lets get the rest of this stuff off your face so we don't end up late for our date...”

You took the soap in your palms, lathering it together under the running faucet water as a new feeling arose in your chest upon looking at yourself in the mirror. No, you didn't have perfect skin, but you were still beautiful and loved, which in this moment, was all that mattered.

“Thank you, Sunny,” you said, massaging the soap into your face as he walked away from you, “I'll be out in a minute...”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 for the hairy girls; “Shit,” you cursed under your breath while rummaging through your things. “What’s wrong, baby?” Jungwon asked, approaching you from behind with a smile on his face.

“I can’t find my razor,” you stated plainly, not even meeting his eyes as you closed the suitcase you were just searching... “Oh,” he started, cat-like eyes rounding slightly, “you can always use my razor if you want to for now then…”

“Please, I’d need like three of your razors to shave my arms properly,” you huffed, stepping out of the closet and walking toward the window, “why’d I have to be born like this?”

“Baby… don’t say that, body hair is completely normal…”

You caught a glimpse of your unibrow in the bedroom window, turning away with frustration as your sad eyes met his, “So then why doesn’t it feel normal?”

“Because, sweetie… you haven’t embraced it yet,” he continued, taking your hands in his before drawing a feather-light line from your wrist to your elbow, “your arms look fine, okay? And if anyone doesn’t agree with that, they can take it up with my taekwondo skills…”

You smiled cheekily at his words, “So… I guess that means I’m getting kicked first then, right?”

“Never,” he chuckled, pulling you closer to him, “but… I’ll be more than willing to give you a lil kissy kiss instead…”

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you felt Jungwon snuggle his face into the crook of your neck, peppering kiss after kiss along the exposed skin. “Yang Jungwon, I command you to stop this madness right now!” You giggled playfully, stomach already hurting a bit from how much his tickly lips made you laugh…

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 for humble members of the itty bitty titty committee; It was just like any other ordinary night you'd spend with Riki. You two were cuddled up on the couch, sharing a bag of snacks as you browsed through the anime section on Netflix. Y��all had already binge watched just about every single series worth your time, but now, you found yourselves watching any and every trailer in search for your next big obsession.

You watched as your boyfriend flipped through the anime section with the remote in his hand, nothing but ample bosomed female characters flashing before your eyes.

Yes, those sorts of visuals were completely normal in anime, and yes, you and Niki usually loved simping over the provocatively animated characters together...

However, this time when he got to talking, it only made you feel insecure about yourself as you stared down at your own seemingly feeble chest, a tiny pout rising to your face.

“Riki,” you asked shyly while the trailer kept playing, “do you think my boobs are too small?”

He almost immediately whipped his head to face you, “What?”

“N-nothing…” you lied, looking back at the TV as if nothing happened.

That's when your boyfriend paused the show, “No, you definitely said something, ____,” he corrected, putting the remote down and letting his hand find your knee to comfort you.

You let out a sigh, resting your hand over his while looking into his eyes this time, “Would you like me better if I had bigger boobs?… be honest…”

“You're asking me this because of all the busty anime chicks we just saw, aren't you?” he asked back, which only made you sulk even more.

“I know, it's stupid but-”

“No, it's a normal feeling to have, ____... but trust me, your chest is the perfect size, babe... they're like... dainty little cherries, y’know?...”

Even though you knew he was only trying to cheer you up, you couldn’t help but side eye him in his moment. “Wowww, how romantic of you, Nishimura,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

“Whatever, I know you like it when I compare you to foods... especially when I call you jellybean,” he smiled, right before smothering your cheek with the biggest kiss he could muster as you giggled beneath him, knowing that somewhere deep down in your heart, he was 100% right...

tysm for reading this quick lil fic !! ✗⚬ﾒ𝟶 a/n ℓօⓥe always ⋆⋆⋆ and feel free to check out my masterlist for more !!

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 💌 ) @squoxle @nikisdubblchococake @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33 @addictedtohobi @microwvdstrawb3rri3s

[something-about-sunflowers]

ALRIGHT, *cracks knuckles* let's get into that teaser, shall we?

Should I itemize this? I think I'm going to itemize it lmao.

So:

Starting here because this is a baseline for Stede, he's got no neckerchief here. This is likely early in the season, probably the very start.

Man's got a fuckin' ARM.

This is Ed. You can see the bare right arm in both shots.

Red neckerchief. Ed's scrap of silk? Beat to shit if it is, which, he did toss it out to sea so, it would be.

Ed's not wearing the knee brace. Or gloves for that matter. I know the knee brace being an actual mobility aid is unconfirmed canon/fanon but it does make me :(c to see him without it. Either it wasn't actually considered as a mobility aid or he's lost it like he's lost his gloves OR he's going without it because he doesn't care if it hurts.

Closer shot of the neckerchief.

I just wanted to point out all the knives stabbed into the table. Also, those look like bits of paper on the windows, did they keep some of the books to repurpose for window blocking purposes?

THERE HE IS!!!!!!!! Other people have already pointed out the makeup and his ring still on his tie, along with the whip on his hip cjizzy real. He's got a new baldric but I also think his clothes look. Darker? Than in season 1? This is a darker/heavier contrast setting but it carries into other shots of him too I think? Like they're less sun/saltwater faded or something?

Other thing to note: If I have my orientation right, this is to the right of Stede's bed nook and to the left of the library, which means this shelf is the one with the auxiliary wardrobe opening mechanism. Which I bring up because:

This little guy seems to be in the place of the mannequin. Ed kept the auxiliary wardrobe and gothed up the mannequin to justify it still being there.

SO much here. This is, I'm fairly certain, Benjamin Hornigold. This camp he's set up (along with what he's wearing) looks like it was made out of a shipwreck. Ed's barefoot and missing his jacket and gloves, and his shirt's torn up at the sleeves. Definitely where he washed up from his dip in the ocean.

Note the trees and the lighting, that comes up later. Ed shoots here and Ben moves with the shot but it doesn't look like he was actually HIT by it to my eyes.

'Wanted. |Blackbeard| Villainous Pirate. Murderer, thrice over. $400 Reward for the criminal responsible for: theft - brigandry - larceny - arson - tax evasion ➡' Presumably there are more crimes/info on the back, though we see the reverse side in the next cut and it's either blank or all in very small text, I couldn't quite tell.

The poster to the right says 'Port' something which has me wondering Port Royal but that's just the only 'Port' something I know, could def be somewhere else.

(Also, just for fun:

Here's how much abouts Ed's capture would be worth now.)

Wider pic than it needs to be but I didn't wanna cut out Olu lol. ANYWAY. Neckerchief again. Also the back of the poster, see what I mean about it either being blank or very tiny?

Babygirl. . . But also that Bride Ed figure kinda slays. Little bralette with the midriff showing, I see you Babygirl. When will he be allowed to just rest and do silly little crafts WITHOUT heartbreak looming over him?

Well. Four is not nine. So. There's that. The other five could be used or out of frame though, of course.

OH. He's back to his fingerless gloves! They might actually be different from his original ones though, they look different at the wrist to me, not quite sure though.

The BOYS!!!! Frenchie looks like he's having a GREAT time. Considering he suggested they turn the hostage into a table and complained about the Republic of Pirates being a bit gentrified I'd say this is more in line with what he's used to in piracy. I 100% buy he was going along with Stede's way because he knew it was an easy ride compared to real piracy. This wouldn't necessarily be a return to form for him but definitely something he's more used to? And he gets to be kitty :3c

And FANG!!! Look at him showing a bit more skin!! Good for him!!

Everybody say 'Thank You David Jenkins'. Right now. Look at this Mad Max shit. Fuckin' Imperator Jimenez right there. LOVE that tye added the 'beard' after the 'fuck's wrong with your face?' bit in 1x10. Full 'it looked weird on you but I slay' energy.

Jim

Izzy

Fang

Near as I can tell at least. I can't make out if Frenchie is in the shot and I'm pretty positive Ed isn't cause he stayed by the cake when they charged in.

Man, yknow I know we were all kinda clowning on it a bit at the end of 1x10 but this look really is so JARRING. Like, in the dark it's menacing but in the light? It's unhinged and that reads as more dangerous imo.

Also just for comparison's sake the pre-Ed-ified version of the bride figure. He really did full on customize that thing lol.

I DON'T THINK ANNE KISSED STEDE HERE. It feels out of character of the show to pull the 'It's fine if a woman does it to a man' kind of thing with regard to unwanted kissing. This is the frame the scene starts on in the trailer. She's leaning back from him and isn't nearly close enough to his mouth to say for certain that's where she was coming from. My money is on her leaning in to whisper something into his ear, maybe under the guise of it being an advance/intended kiss, which would also explain the annoyed look when she's interrupted. She either got ACTUALLY interrupted or it's part of the act. Stede doesn't look nearly as uncomfortable as he would be if she'd kissed him or tried to, he looks confused.

Izzy going for his sword when this guy tries to get the drop on Stede. He either is starting to care or he knows how much Ed needs him alive.

Also, this is the other potential source of Stede's neckerchief. Mr, Knife right here has a red one and Stede doesn't have it in this scene. I do think this one is a little less distressed than the one Stede has though so it could just be coincidence.

See? No neckerchief. He DOES have a sword at his hip tho! So this, I think, is after Izzy's started training him.

Also, he actually looks really good in red lol.

Baby. He's definitely missing the ring in this shot. It sits higher than the baldric is covering. I want to give him a little kissie on his ouchie and then let him have a nap, he needs that.

The pants match the coat. Also, black shirt. Stede is kinda slaying ngl.

Still missing her head :(c. Isn't that bad luck?

Maybe yall didn't hear me properly with the Jim pic. I'll repeat:

EVERYBODY SAY 'THANK YOU DAVID JENKINS'.

I can't get over how Stede's just standing there politely with his arms behind his back lmfao.

Also, Izzy's got his right leg up, he's putting his weight on his left. . . 'foot'.

I SAID EVERYBODY SAY-

I know tits and all but also. The belly. I would like to. Bite.

*ahem*

ANYWAY. On the left (our left) side of the barrel you can see the tip of his right boot so he's def got that leg off the ground. Perhaps someone is trying to relearn their footwork? Now that they've got a different balance than they're used to? And perhaps a difference in sensory input in the leg he's standing on? Possibly?

This is the same beach Ed was on when he did the fuckin' RAD takedown of the other officer but it definitely looks like different times of day. Having both in the teaser is def meant to be a red herring. He doesn't have the neckerchief in this shot either.

Bra för honom. (Is how google translate tells me you say 'Good for him' in Swedish.)

Is Jackie's hair the same here as it is in the VF pic with Ed? Or like, similar enough to be a 'later in the day after some Fun™ messing it up a bit'?

Roach!!! Fully sleeveless now, added a belt, got some flowers tied to the strings/straps of his apron. Looks like he's having fun lighting that cannon lol. Pretty sure this is the same scene as that one leaked photo of him dancing with Fang and Izzy's green screen sock. He had the flowers in that, right?

[Ran out of allowed images, please hold]

[lovesickonmybed]

teaching you a lesson in the worst kind of way | 18+

masterlist | info about palestine | donate to gaza

pairing | boss!ellie x reader

synopsis | you show up late for work once again and ellie decides another lecture just won’t do. 

warnings |  18+ MDNI!! wedgies, degradation, humiliation, panty sniffing, cunt busting, borderline footjob kind of??, a little bit of pantyhose fetish, dom!ellie, sub!reader, unbalanced power dynamics, lots and lots of dirty talk, oral sex reader!receiving.

word count | 3354

a/n | i used this fic as an excuse to explore a new kink i’ve been into. it might be a little much for some people so if anything in the warnings sounds unappealing please keep scrolling. this was also partially inspired by an audio i found on soundgasm, which you can listen to here. i urge you to not buy any of the last of us games, including the remaster as the creator, neil druckmann is a zionist. the second game is based off of the israeli occupation in palestine and you can learn more about that here.

You didn’t mean to make a habit out of being late but your shitbox car has made a habit out of deciding not to start on your busiest work days. You try to start it up again but once again it sputters pathetically and shows no signs of starting, you scream and grasp the steering wheel in frustration. “God fucking dammit! Ellie is gonna kill me…” You groan, swinging the door open and walk to your apartment lobby to call an Uber. You’re lucky enough to get one in under 5 minutes and spend the whole ride praying there won’t be much traffic, but unfortunately for you the universe is cruel and there’s an insane amount of traffic that makes you even more late than you already would be. You make a quick call to Ellie’s secretary to let her know you’ll be late and brace yourself for how much shit you’ll be in once you arrive. 

The last time you were late you got a 30 minute lecture from Ellie, a write up, and fingernail indents in your thighs thanks to your anxious habits. Ellie wasn’t a mean or a bad boss, but once you pissed her off she made it clear that you’d have to go the extra mile to get back in her good graces. Bringing Ellie her Dutch Bros order a few times a week definitely helped you out, but after your car giving out for the 3rd time in 6th months, you’re not sure if electric berry lemonades could save your ass this time. 

Your Uber pulls up outside your office building and you thank your driver for the ride and head inside quickly, looking down for a second to leave 5 stars and a good tip. You make your way to Ellie’s office as quickly as you can and thank the universe that she’s speaking with her secretary when you arrive. 

Ellie is looking down at her secretary's computer screen, running her finger underneath the sentence she’s reading, mumbling the words aloud to herself. Ellie’s secretary nudges her to alert her to your presence. She looks up and narrows her eyes, leaning down to whisper something to her secretary. She nods her head in the direction of her office and you follow her inside, playing with the hair tie on your wrist to calm your nerves. Ellie holds the door open for you and you take a moment to admire her outfit, a pinstripe suit with the buttons on her blazer undone to show off her silky black button down that’s tucked into the pants. This is one of the rare days where she’s chosen to wear heels instead of her usual oxfords. You sit down in the comfy chair in front of her desk as she sits in her chair behind her desk.

“Late again, I really thought our last talk would’ve gotten through to you,” Ellie says, shaking her head with disappointment. You sigh, looking down at your lap with embarrassment. You take a second to try and choose the best way to respond, you’ve already pissed her off enough by being almost 30 minutes late, you really can’t afford to push your luck any further.

“I’m so sorry, I know I’ve been late already a few times this quarter. I’ve been having a lot of car trouble, I’ve been waiting on my tax return to get it fixed, I can’t really afford it at the moment…” You explain, feeling yourself get hot with embarrassment as you start to pick at your pantyhose cover thighs. 

“We can discuss your car later, we’ll help you figure something out. But for now, I want to address your outfit. That skirt you’re wearing is too short, I’m gonna give you a warning for now but if you wear it again you’re getting another write up.” 

“You’re joking right? My high school had a stricter dress code than we do and I wore this all the time. There’s no way it’s too short!” You’re pissed off now, it feels like Ellie is just trying to find something to punish you for at this point.

“Well this isn’t a high school and I don’t care if you wore it then, it’s inappropriate and I need you to not wear it again. You’re lucky I’m not sending you home to change,” Ellie says, narrowing her eyes.

“I wish it was high school, at least they’d give me something else to wear!” Your frustration from how the morning has gone so far is getting to you and you snap a little bit.

“You know what? Get up,” Ellie commands, getting up out of her chair and standing over you.

“What?” You’re incredibly confused by what Ellie has planned for you for your little outburst, if you’re getting written up for insubordination you don’t know why you have to stand.

“I said get. Up.” Oh, she’s not fucking with you.

You slowly rise to your feet in confusion, furrowing your brows and looking around the room. Ellie gets out from behind her desk and steps towards you, grabbing you by your shoulders and spinning you around so that you’re facing away from her. “You know, if this was high school, I don’t think you’d like me very much. I’m sure you were a little loser, a little nerd maybe, back then. Probably got picked on and teased by girls like me, hm? Girls like me would punish girls like you for talking back with a good old fashioned wedgie.” Ellie grabs the waist of your skirt, pulling it back and reaching a hand inside your skirt. She slowly grabs the waistbands of your pantyhose and panties and yanks them up quickly, sending you stumbling forward onto your toes in an attempt to escape the searing pain she’s sent up your ass. She laughs as you reach back to try and tug them out of your hands, it just motivates her to pull harder. “Stop taking it like a little bitch, we both know you had your panties yanked every day of your miserable high school life.”

You cry out in pain as she bends you over her desk and pulls even harder. You grasp at the wood as you feel your feet lift off the ground as she pulls, it sends the fabric of your panties between your folds and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. Oddly enough the sensation between your folds gets you wet and whiny. “Do you wish it was high school now? I could always throw in a swirly if this isn’t enough for you!”

“Let me go! This isn’t okay!” You yell, trying to force yourself up. Ellie slams you back down onto her desk with no problem and pulls even harder, your pantyhose ripping in the process. You haven’t felt this humiliated in years. Ellie pulls your skirt up for a better view of your wedgied ass. 

“God these are practically disappearing inside you…” She mumbles to herself, fighting the urge to spread your cheeks for a better look at just how deep your wedgie really is. You manage to kick Ellie off of you and you feel the air get knocked out of your lungs as you hit the desk and tumble to the ground. You back yourself up against the desk and catch your breath, Ellie lets you, watching you and smiling as she plans her next move. “Don’t move an inch,” she commands.

You look up at her with fearful eyes. Your black skirt is bunched up around your waist, your ripped pantyhose and pretty white panties are stuffed deep between your folds. Ellie admires the view she has of your legs spread open, she smiles and nudges your inner thigh with her foot, pointing it towards your cunt. “Do I work you so hard you don’t have time to shave? Shame that such a pretty pussy is all covered up with that hair. I wonder how that pussy wedgie would feel if you had shaved, do you think it would hurt worse?”

You gulp and nod, not sure if she really wants you to answer her. “Y-Yeah, it probably would…” You answer meekly. Your eyes follow Ellies foot as she trails it up your inner thigh. She tests the waters, pressing the sole of her shoe against your cunt. She looks down at you and carefully analyzes your expressions.

“When you go home tonight I want you to shave, I want you to really feel it when you get that pretty little cunt flossed. Got it?” Ellie’s tone is demanding, she’s not asking you to, she’s telling you to. “You wanna be a good little employee right? Wanna follow my orders? Then do it.” Who are you to disobey her?

“Yes ma’am.” Ellie smiles down at you as you agree to follow her orders. You feel her shoe press harder against your cunt and against all better judgment you lift your hips and press yourself into the sole of her shoe, wincing at the slight pain and eyes rolling back at the pleasurable feeling. 

Ellies lets out a breathy laugh, “You like this? What are you, a little pain slut? God, who would’ve guessed my little glorified coffee runner gets off on getting her cunt wrecked.” Ellie draws her foot back like she’s about to kick you, leaning forward on one foot, placing her hand on her desk to stabilize herself. She looks down at you and tilts her head to the side, “Are you wet? Your panties are plugging you up, it’s hard to tell. Maybe I need to kick ‘em loose so I can see for myself, hm?” Ellie draws her leg back further, getting herself ready. She smirks down at you before delivering a light kick to your stuffed cunt. You gasp loudly, falling forward, throwing your arm forward to stop yourself from falling on your face. Your eyes well up with tears and you let out a guttural moan, this is a pain you’ve never felt before. It has you clawing at the carpet and leaking hot tears. But, your eyes aren’t the only thing leaking. Somehow, someway, the pain from the kick has quickly melted into pleasure. You can feel your clit twitch as you lay propped up on the floor, squeaking softly, your hips jumping up off the floor.

Ellie looks at you with a shit eating grin, reveling in your pathetic display. “Lay back against the desk and let me see if they got any looser,” she commands. She knows it’s impossible for her to kick them loose, she just wants a good view of your pathetic puffy cunt. You prop yourself back up against the desk and spread your legs for her, she gets down on her knees and crawls forward to you. She lays herself down on the floor and grabs your thighs, spreading them further apart. She shoves her face between your thighs, carefully inspecting your cunt. You can feel her breath on your thighs and against your clothed cunt, it makes you whine like a little bitch. 

“Pretty pussy getting plugged up just like it should…” She mumbles, running her finger along your stuffed slit. You throw your head back against the wood and whine, your hips bucking slightly at the feeling. Ellie smirks, knowing she’s got you right where she wants you. “Poor baby, probably haven’t been touched in so long…bet whatever pathetic toy you’ve got in your bedside drawer gets a lot of use, hm?” She grabs the fabric of your panties, slowly pulling it out of you as you whine in pain. You didn’t think it would be possible for it to hurt worse taking your wedgie out than it did actually getting wedgied but somehow it does.

Ellie leans forward and nudges her nose against your clothed clit causing you to yelp and dig your nails into the soft meat of your thigh. “So sensitive, I’m shocked you didn’t cum from just your wedgie alone…” She stands up and motions for you to do the same, you feel a bit weak as you do, using the desk to support yourself as you stand. You lean back against the desk, your skirt still bunched up over your waist, the stiff fabric staying in place. Ellie admires the view she has of your soaked and stretched out panties, the way she looks at you makes you melt. You know you shouldn’t be so wet after what she just did but something deep down in you wants her to do it again. 

“Can I…can I taste you? I know you probably taste so fucking good…please let me make you feel good,” Ellie pleads, walking closer to you before dropping to her knees in front of you. She removes her blazer quickly, tossing the pinstriped fabric behind her. You hop up on the desk, spreading your legs, as you watch her push the sleeves up on her button down shirt. “Tell me I can taste you honey, need to hear you say it…”

You look down at her, biting your lip softly. You enjoy watching her plead like that, for once you’re in control. “You can taste me, baby. Gotta make me cum, gotta make it up to my poor little cunt after what you did to her. Make it good.”

Ellie smirks up at you, looking as smug as ever with a shit eating grin. She hooks her arms under your thighs and pulls you closer to her, “I’ll make it the best you’ve ever had.” She grabs hold on your waistband and begins to pull down your underwear, stuffing them into the pocket of her pants as she removes the fabric from your body. She leans forward and you lift your legs over her arms, resting them on her shoulders. Her face is barely an inch from your cunt and you throw your head back to look at the ceiling to try and get yourself to relax. You bite your lip to hold back a whine as you feel Ellie breathing against your naked cunt, you can practically feel the smirk radiating off of her, she knows the effect she has on you and she’s proud of it. You gasp as you feel her begin to kiss your inner thighs, she moves closer and closer to your cunt before she takes your redden clit into her mouth and sucks. Your hand shoots down to her head and you grip her hair at the root as your eyes widen, you haven’t had anyone eat you out for a very long time.

She smiles and slowly pulls away from your cunt, your legs still resting over her shoulders. “You react like a fucking virgin, y’know that? I’m shocked you didn’t cum just from that,” she chuckles cockily. You roll your eyes at her and tug at her auburn locks, causing her to wince in pain. “You little bitch, I can bust that cunt of yours again y’know?” You let go of her hair and lean back on your palms. Ellie leans forward and continues, licking a stripe up your slit and using her tongue to play with your clit. This time you don’t allow yourself to hold back, you moan in pleasure. Ellie smiles and continues on, repeating the motion as you squirm beneath her, licking at your clit every now and then.

“Ellie how the fuck did you get so good at this?” You whine, your eyebrows furrowing as you start to softly grind against her face, using her hair as an anchor. You ease up on her hair so she can pull away to answer, “I was really popular in college,” she jokes, before immediately diving right back in. 

Your hips buck up in pleasure as she goes back to sucking your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You grip her hair even tighter and grind your cunt against her face, borderline riding it at this point. She lets you use her as she uses her tongue to massage your clit while she sucks on it. She widens her mouth to suck your cunt as well and that’s all it takes to send you over the edge. Your hips leave the table and you pull her hair with all your might as you spasm underneath her, moaning out her name, your legs tightening around her head involuntarily as you practically fold in on yourself. She lets you come down from your high, drinking you up enthusiastically, letting you make a mess all over her face. When you manage to come down you let your legs fall open and Ellie finally is able to get some air. You lay back and admire her flushed face, the lower half of it is covered in your slick and it’s a sight you’d pay to see again. 

You let your legs dangle off the desk, feeling like they’re made of jelly as both you and Ellie recover. Your cheeks heat up as you watch Ellie wipe the slick from her face with your underwear, giving them a sniff before she tucks them back in her pocket. She gets up from the ground and walks around her desk, sitting down in her chair and cradling your head. “You’re so fuckin pretty, you were so good for me,” she says, smiling down at you, stroking your cheek lovingly. 

“Where did you learn to eat pussy like that, I’m so serious?” You ask, giggling to yourself when her cheeks turn red and she looks up at the ceiling. 

“I told you! I was very popular in college!” She laughs and brushes some of your hair out of your face. You can see a bit of slick still on her chin and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it.

“How am I supposed to work after that? My legs feel like jelly, my cunt is pretty sore, and you stole my panties and destroyed them.”

Ellie chuckles, “I guess I could give you the day off…or maybe just assign you to work with me all day while I help you figure out what to do about your car situation.” 

You groan, you had completely forgotten about your car, “Shit. I doubt there’s anything I can do, I swear she’s done for this time!” You had a lot of memories in your car, a lot of them involved screaming to I Don’t Care by Fall Out Boy before going into work. 

“I’ll help you figure it out, pretty girl. It’s the least I could do after dress coding you over some bullshit and wrecking your cunt,” Ellie says. 

“Oh so you admit the dress coding was bullshit!” You exclaim, sitting up and hopping off the desk, pulling your skirt back down and smoothing it out. You sit down in the chair you had sat in earlier when she had called you in and look at Ellie with your arms crossed in annoyance.

Ellie rolls her eyes and huffs, “Of course it was bullshit, but hey I needed a reason to keep you in here longer. You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to fuck you, it’s been so hard to try and be professional with you around.” You take a minute to wrap your head around what Ellie just said.

“You what?” You’re shocked she’d admit to it.

“I’m not sure why, but after we had that work event at the arcade with the karaoke room I’ve been thinking about you. Maybe it was seeing you in casual clothes or seeing you sing your heart out to Sugar, We’re Goin Down but something about you that night just awakened something in me. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, it was driving me crazy,” Ellie confesses. You sit across from her and your jaw is practically on the floor.

“So you really like me? You didn’t just want to fuck me, right?” You ask once you’ve regained the ability to speak. 

“Yeah, I really fucking like you,” she smirks.

“HR is gonna have a field day with us…”

[everythingacotarbxm1012]

They Mates - with Y/N Pt 4

Summary - Hybern’s a problem (but when is he not), and this whole Cauldron situation… Out. Of. Hand. Based on Ch 19 of ACOMAF

Notes/Other Warnings - ‘Vulgar gestures’, language, my grammar. As always lines/plot points directly or heavily inspired by the series itself. 1.4k words. 2nd pov again for a more intimate look into Y/N and Az’s relationship.

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Masterlist

You stood with Azriel near the window in the sitting room of the townhouse. It was snowing lightly outside, dusting the outside world. Cassian lounged near the fire, next to Mor. He felt tense, like an animal waiting to jump out of its cage after spending too much time cooped up. Amren was not present—where she was, you did not know. You all were waiting for your High Lord and Feyre to return from their trip to the Bone Carver for information. 

As you watched the snow build up outside your mind wandered back to earlier that morning. Nearly five-hundred years Azriel had been your mate, and still every morning was utter bliss. You could still feel his teeth scraping lightly across the shell of your ear and his lips trailing—

“Amren’s right,” Rhysand said.

You snapped out of your thoughts to see him standing in the threshold. Feyre stood next to him.

“You are like dogs, waiting for me to return home. I ought to buy treats for the lot of you,” Rhys continued.

Cassian flipped him off, the tension in his system still evident. You stepped forward to smack Cassian’s shoulder. The general gave you a withering look. The High Lord of Night narrowed his eyes at the pair of you. You stepped back as Feyre, who looked chilled headed for the armchair near the hearth. You returned to your spot next to your mate who stood in contemplation, a constant for him.

“How’d it go,” Mor asked to quickly glance between Feyre and Rhys, who had finally stepped into the room. 

“The Bone Carver,” Rhys said with a sigh, “has too much time on his hands considering how often he likes to pry into others people’s business.”

You reached for Azriel’s hand, unsure of what to do in the moment. Your mate didn’t protest, his shadows swirling around your wrist for a few moments. You could see Feyre’s eyes dart to the sight. The mortal said nothing.

Cassian broke through the silence, his hands falling to brace his knees. “But…?”

“But, the busybody can be useful, when he chooses,” Rhys replied with another sigh. “He informed us that the Cauldron was originally hidden at the bottom of the frozen lake in Lapplund, but vanished a while ago. But three of the feet on which the Cauldron used to stand were cleaved from it, in an attempt for power. Each foot was hidden in a different temple.”

You didn’t exactly need Rhys to spell out the rest for you. People were after the Cauldron, after its power again. “Shit,” you murmured. Cassian, to your surprise said nothing, only sat up a bit straighter.

“Cesere, Sangravah, and Itica,” the high lord listed out. “The King of Hybern seeks to return the Cauldron to its full glory.”

It was a suspicion most everyone in the room had. You could sense the grimness of it all, the way the room shifted even though most were expecting it. You glanced to Mor who looked back at you, giving a well this isn’t good look. 

“The mortal queens have one part of the Book, Tarquin the other,” Rhys finished.

You sucked in a breath before Azriel stepped forward, his shadows lightening from around his form. “I will contact my sources in the Summer Court about the other half of the Book of Breathings on where it is hidden. I can aldo fly to the human world. See if I can locate their half before we ask them for it.”

The High Lord of Night shook his head. “I don’t trust this information, even with your sources, Azriel. Not anyone outside this room, except for Amren.”

“They can be trusted, Rhysand,” you defend as Azriel’s shadows grew thicker for a moment before lightening up. Az let go of your hand, fists curling slightly, staring at his high lord. It didn’t go unnoticed.

“I, we, are not taking risks where the Cauldron or the Book is concerned,” Rhys responded calmly. Rhys returned his spymaster’s stare. 

You reached for your mate’s hand, and his fingers slowly uncurled, eyes drifting away from Rhysand’s face and back to your own. You gently intertwined your fingers with his.

“So what do you have planned,” Mor asked. 

“Well,” Rhys responded as he picked at absolutely nothing on his leathers. A habit you had noticed he got when growing up. “The King of Hybern sacked one of our temples for a piece of the Cauldron, which, as far as I am concerned, is an act of war.”

“Of course he wants war,” You interjected more strongly than you had anticipated. “For the Mother’s sake we were an ally to the humans during…the War. He would never dare sway you at risk of revealing his plans.”

Cassian nodded in agreement before adding, “Amarantha’s cronies likely reported to him Under the Mountain.”

“Hybern and his forces successfully infiltrated our lands, without detection. I have every intention of returning the favor.” Your high lord straightened himself up slightly.

“How?” Mor asked, before you could. 

“We go to Hybern to bring the Cauldron back or go to nullify it.” 

You thought you might just laugh at that. “Hybern would already have countless wards to protect it.” 

You could feel Az’s thumb over the back of your hand, gently rubbing as if to try and ease some of the tension from your body. “Y/N’s right. We would need to find a way to get through them, undetected,” your mate added.

“Then we start, now while we hunt down the Book. We do it swiftly, so by the time we have both halves we can get through without word spreading quickly,” Rhys said like it was the simplest solution possible—the simplest task possible.

“And how qre you planning to retrieve the Book?” Cassian added.

“These objects are spelled to each high lord and can only be found using their power.”

You looked to Feyre, almost apologetically. Thrown into this life and world and she was being asked to find pieces of the Book of Breathings itself using powers she received because she died. A shuddering feeling went through you. As if in defense of the girl you looked at Rhys. “You don’t know that it will work.”

Rhys smiled slightly. “True—but there is a way to test it.”

“Mother’s tits! Here we go again,” Cassian grumbled from his place besides Mor. 

Your eyes danced over to your mate whose eyes had narrowed slightly, your fingers still intimately intertwined.

“With your abilities, Feyre ,” Rhys began, ignoring his Inner Circles words, “you might just might be able to find the half of the Book in the Summer Court. To be certain, to make sure when it counts, when we need it, when we need you, we’re going on another trip… see if you can find an object that I’ve been missing for quite some time.”

You let out another heavy sigh knowing exactly where this was going, Az still rubbing his thumb over your hand.

“Shit,” Mor groaned, covering her face with her hands.

“Where,” Feyre asked tremulously.

“The Weaver,” Azriel responded. His thumb stoped rubbing your hand. 

“Who is the Weaver,” the new fae asked.

“An ancient and wicked creature,” Azriel responded with a sharp exhale, that tickled the back of your ear. “Who should remain unbothered,” thr spymaster shot in Rhysand’s direction.

Rhys pushed on. “I want to see of Feyre can identify the object amongst the Weaver’s trove.”

“Oh! By the Cauldron!!” Mor exclaimed. You couldn’t disagree with her.

“The Weaver,” Feyre began to press, “the Bone Carver. Can you just call someone by a name?”

You let out a soft chuckle with a slight angling of your head. She had a point. Something in the sound your momenary joy eased the shadowsinger. 

“What about adding another name to that list?” Rhysand asked Feyre who had finally seemed to warm up.

A few grumbles sounded about the room, including your own.

“Emissary,” Rhys said ignoring the room. “For the human realm,” Rhys clarified, looking to you as if ensuring you weren’t about to be fired from your position.

Good, Azriel thought to himself. You needn’t make any more travels than you were doing at present as Rhysand’s emissary in every other aspect. One less place for you to be caught in something dangerous. One less thing to pull you from his arms in the morning, and leave half of the bed empty at night. Truth was, even after nearly five-hundred years together, all he wanted to do was lay in bed with you and never leave the comfort of your embrace. Too bad the world had other plans.

Taglist: @lilah-asteria, @5onedirection5, @emryb, @azrielrot

[steddiealltheway]

This is the weirdest way to celebrate 5k 🥹 but have this random intrusive thought ficlet 💛

When Steve first saw Heelys he only had one thought: Max.

So he bought them for her. After all, she was always complaining about not being able to use her skateboard indoors specifically at school. And if Steve could find any way to bring a smile to her face, he would do it.

Sure, she had opened the box with a laugh of disbelief and brushed off her gratitude with the question, “How did you know my shoe size?” But Steve had seen her heeling around in front of her trailer with a big smile that made it all worth it.

What Steve didn’t expect was the reaction from Eddie who was fuming with jealousy. He would get the cutest little frown on his face with his eyebrows all scrunched together whenever he would spot the shoes. Not only that, Eddie would make little snide comments about, “Oh, I’m just your boyfriend. Why would that make me worthy of any gift?” and “You know my shoe size, right? Then, why didn’t I get a matching pair?”

And Steve was completely honest with his response, “Eddie, you would not be able to handle Heelys. I mean this with all the love in my heart - you would destroy anything you came in contact with if you owned them. Please, do not buy them.”

But low and behold, Steve apparently planted the idea in Eddie’s head that he could go out and buy them on his own. So, the next day, Steve stops by Eddie’s trailer just in time to see him running and promptly flailing around as he attempts to balance on the wheels. By the time Steve gets out of his car, Eddie is already sprawled out on the ground.

Steve sighs and approaches him. “Are you happy with yourself?”

Eddie glances up at Steve from the ground and breaks out into a huge smile. “Very.”

And Steve can’t resist that smile. Really. He can’t. So he lets it go for a few days after reassurance from Max that Eddie will get better the more he practices.

Eddie does not get better. At all. Steve’s actually sure he’s starting to get worse. He’s already managed to break two of Uncle Wayne’s precious mugs inside the trailer where Steve and Wayne have set the strict rule: No Heeling Indoors. But Eddie was never one to truly follow rules, so another heeling incident inside the trailer is how Steve finds himself spending an afternoon in the hospital.

Eddie had managed to sprain his wrist. And Steve was no longer going to put up with Eddie’s antics. The Heelys have to go away. And they have to go away now.

By the time Eddie’s receives a large bag of ice and a wrist brace, Steve has come up with a plan - or rather a compromise. One that Eddie would never resist. He brings it up once they’re settled in the car. “No more Heelys, okay?” Steve says and glances over to where Eddie sits with a pout. “I’m serious. You could’ve seriously gotten hurt more than a sprained wrist. And you’re lucky it’s not broken - Wayne would kill you.”

Eddie huffs and glances out the window. Steve tries not to roll his eyes. Out of all the men in the world, Steve had to fall for the most dramatic one. He continues, “I’ll make a deal with you.” This seems to get Eddie’s attention because he begins to look Steve’s way all while trying to make it look like he’s not looking at all. Steve smiles. “If you give up the Heelys… I’ll finally buy you a pair of light up sneakers.”

“Really?” Eddie asks with a huge smile, evidently forgetting to give his boyfriend the silent treatment. Steve nods. Eddie leans over and says, “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

Steve sighs and leans over to give him a peck on the cheek at a stop sign. Eddie gasps dramatically, “You missed and you know it!”

Steve rolls his eyes again. “I’m getting you light up sneakers, what more could you want?” And this comment has Eddie forgetting all about the kiss because he’s too excited for these shoes. Sometimes, Steve wonders what he sees in him, but a short glance over is all Steve needs to know he would never give him up no matter what.

That is until he gets the light up sneakers - but they’re not the problem. The problem is Steve hadn’t tried to analyze their earlier conversation deeper than surface level.

See, Steve had asked, “You got rid of the Heelys, right?”

“Of course,” Eddie had said with a big smile.

“So, I’m never going to see them again?”

Eddie had paused and made fleeting eye contact as he replied, “I wouldn’t say that… but you have the shoes?” He had asked with such joyous anticipation that Steve couldn’t think of anything except letting his boyfriend open the gift.

But now, Steve is fuming. Because while Eddie hadn’t lied about giving them up, he had left out what he meant by that.

Because Dustin has just started heeling around the trailer in the “great new shoes Eddie had gotten him.”

Steve looks up at Eddie. Eddie looks at Steve. Then, he bolts out the trailer into the darkness.

Steve follows him out yelling, “You can’t hide from me in those sneakers!”

“Damn these beautiful creations!” Eddie yells as he races away from Steve.

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few days later, Steve has managed to convince Dustin to give up the shoes for a no questions asked “you owe me one.” Steve is scared to ask what that could be, but he’s just grateful to get the Heely’s away from the two menaces. He sets them on top of the box to deal with them later.

…But then they’re staring at him. Taunting him to try them on. And Steve has never backed down from a challenge, so he does. Just this one time.

Besides, Eddie is in the shower, and he’ll never know. So, Steve puts them on and goes outside. He takes a few jogging steps and then easily balances on the heels covering a good distance with a rush of adrenaline. He stops and goes again. And then again. “Why did he find these so difficult?” Steve asks as he goes just one more time.

Then the trailer door opens so fast that Steve can barely process it. “I see how it is. You just wanted them all to yourself,” Eddie says with his hands on his hips, towel wrapped around his waist. There still seems to be shampoo in his hair. “I could hear your betrayal,” Eddie explains.

Steve argues, “I was just seeing what the big deal was!” He makes his way back to the trailer and instantly takes them off and puts them back in the box. “I’m going to give these away for good now.”

“You better not keep them for yourself, Steve,” Eddie says as he heads back to finish his shower, successfully planting the idea in his head. So, Steve takes the time to hide the box in the trunk of his car. Maybe Max will want a secret Heely friend that Eddie will never find out about…

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Night Moves 3

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, stealing, crime, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

The music hazes and the lights blur. You’re not drunk, you never drink much on your night out, only pretending to sip the cocktails men buy you. No, you’re mindless from the man beneath you. Your walls clench around him and you let out a moan. 

You’re achy from how long he’s been inside you. Still, he hasn’t cum. He stopped fucking you a while ago. He just keeps you on his lap, thrusting ever now and again to make you twitch. As you think of it, he does it and you brace the table to keep from keeling over. 

The coloured lights flash in a strange pattern and he tickles your sides. He leans forward, his head next to yours as his sultry breath speckles across your skin. He reaches between your legs and flicks your cunt. 

“Last call, sweetheart,” he eases you off of him and you whimper.  

He slides you onto the seat next to him and you whimper as he tucks himself into his briefs. You grab your purse and he reaches to grip your wrist. You gulp and look him in the eyes. They’re as blue as the ocean. 

“I didn’t say we’re done,” he lifts a brow, “don’t make me chase you.” 

He lets go and sits back, zips up, and buckles his belt. His chest rises and falls and he peers around confidently. He’s so damn brazen. He was buried inside you for at least an hour, sitting there balls deep, and he can only smirk. 

“Come on,” he stands and snaps his fingers. 

You stand and sidle out from behind the table. He quickly catches up to you as you face the thinning dance floor and slings his arm around your back. He walks you between the drunken bodies. 

“Am I under arrest?” You ask. 

“That wouldn’t be much fun,” he grits as he strides on. 

You’re quiet. You won’t push it. You still have hope you won’t be headed down to the station. You can’t afford the fine to get out, even after all you took that night. They’d confiscate it anyway. 

“What’s a girl like you doing lifting wallets?” He asks as you pass through the front doors into the cool night air.  

You scoff as your heels clack on the pavement, “gotta eat.” 

“Sure, sweetheart,” he hums, “look at you,” he does just that, glancing over, “any man would hand over his salary just for a night with you.” 

You snicker sardonically, “hah, you men... you all assume it’s so easy for women. That any one of us can just get by on our looks. You think this hair is free, this lip gloss?” 

“Sweetheart, I’m not assuming, I’m telling you,” he keeps you walking. 

“Sure, whatever, “ you shake your head. “You’re right, I’m gonna change my ways, sir, and find me a rich old man and let him fuck me til his heart gives out. Maybe then, I’ll get a taste of his fortune.” 

He chuckles and stops you by the curb, just beside a dark blue sportscar, “where do you live?” 

“What?” 

“Where do you live?” he asks slower. 

You blink, “Oxbury.” 

“How many rooms?” 

“Huh?” 

“Answer the questions.” 

You huff and look away, “it’s a bachelor loft. Everything’s in the same room.” 

“How much do you pay?” He prompts. 

“What does that matter? Are you going to arrest me or can I go?” 

“Sure, you can go after you answer my questions,” he insists. 

This is surreal. Only minutes ago he was inside you. You were shameless sitting on his dick and now he’s interrogating you about where you live. 

“Two grand. It’s a rip off but nothing’s cheap around here.” 

He narrows his eyes, nodding as he pokes the tip of his tongue out. 

“I’ll give you double. Just for tonight.” 

“I’m a thief, not a prostitute,” you frown. 

“That’s not what I’m...” his cheek dimples and his lashes flick, “not just tonight. Tomorrow. I’ll find you a new place. Something nicer. Something with big windows.” 

You shake your head in confusion, “what do you mean?” 

“We’ll get you settled and when we come back here,” he steps closer and reaches around your neck to check the tag on your dress, “I’ll have you in Gucci.” 

You search his face as he steps back. He’s arrogant and certain. You’re not. You’ve been caught out and you can’t afford to say no. But what if you do? 

“Do I have a choice?” You voice your doubt. 

“Not really,” he exhales, “there’s two options; my place or the station.” 

You close your eyes and cringe. That’s about what you expected. You flutter your lashes open and wet your lips. 

“It wasn’t bad. We both know it wasn’t. I still got your cum on me,” he tugs at his belt, “and I’m backed up. You can’t leave me like this.” 

Your cheeks burn. As much as you want to say no, on principle, on what little pride you still have, he makes you tingle. You tried it with the wrong man but there’s something right about him too. You can’t remember the last time you orgasmed that wasn’t off something battery-powered. 

“How do I trust you?” 

“I could ask you the same,” he counters. “This isn’t trust, it’s convenient. You need money, you deserve money. Luxury. Girl like you, shit, whew, I’ll make sure you got everything those tricky hands could never steal. You just gotta keep me happy.” 

It still feels wrong. You’re still selling yourself. Yet, it isn’t exactly your worst option. Jail or sugar baby? It’s obvious but difficult nonetheless. 

“Do I have to say it out loud?” You ask. 

He grins, “well, I’d like to hear it. Come on, my ego needs it.” 

You arch your brow and cross your arms, “alright, I’ll do it. Deal.” 

[musamora]

— 𝖉𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 + 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖆𝖉𝖆 ₊˚⊹

pairing(s): the armed detective agency (bungou stray dogs) & gender-neutral!reader, (minor) osamu dazai (bungou stray dogs) x gender-neutral!reader

content warnings: holiday sweaters, brief mention of nooses, the armed detective agency is one giant family, sweet tooth-rotting fluff, cuddling

would you like to see more? fill out the taglist or comment under this post.this post!

You stumbled your way into Armed Detective Agency, knees threatening to buckle under the weight of boxes and bags carried in shaking arms, unable to ask for help as you let out panted breaths.

"Here! Let me help you with those."

You sighed as the pressure was alleviated, the ache brought out from your wrists and elbows as you nodded towards your blonde savior.

"Thank you, Kenji!"

He returned your gratitude with a beaming smile, lifting the presents with distinctive ease as he settled them underneath an expansive, prickly tree in the corner, illuminated by a descending sun as beams struck objects with an unrelenting glow. The entire room seemed warmed by the rays, buzzing like a beehive as clerks shuffled between desks. 

Atsushi and Kyoka had been tasked with decorating the monstrous tree, but the poor things needed clarification on how to start. Naomi and Tanizaki started mixing steaming mugs of hot chocolate, much to the delight of Ranpo, who munched on marshmallows from his desk while oogling the rich drink. Yosano had attempted to smuggle some booze out of her office, only to face a lecture from Kunikida on the importance of sobriety. Fukuzawa and Haruno remained in the lounge area, silently sipping on their drinks as they watched over the room.

And then there were the matching sweaters everyone was wearing — a tiger, a rabbit, a book, a butterfly, a cat, and a candy cane — to name a few. You snuggled into your own, thankful that many people from your cases had chipped in to buy these for all of you.

The entire party left you feeling so bubbly and bright. You made your way over to the tree to catch a large ornament that Atsushi almost dropped when he tripped over his own two feet.

"Careful, Atsushi." You pressed the ornament back into his hand, conscientious to not let him drop it a second time. 

He flashed a sheepish grin. "Thanks!"

"Here." You took a couple from the box, spreading them along the tree branches with a quick check to ensure everything was evenly distributed. With your combined skills, you covered the tree from head to toe in shining ornaments. You stepped back to admire your handiwork, only to slip over a stray garland on the floor.

"-w-woah-!"

You mentally braced yourself to fall flat on your ass, only to land on a much softer object. It only took two bandaged arms to snake around your waist for you to realize what, or more accurately, who had caught you as those same arms squeezed you tight.

"Falling for me, love?" you shivered as his warm breath bristled against your ear, the familiar brown tresses of Osamu Dazai brushing against your cheek as he unabashedly snuggled into your neck.

I was wondering where he could be.

You pulled away, only to look him over with a confused glare.

"How'd you get a sweater with a noose on it?"

He grinned lazily. "Isn't it amazing!"

You huffed before feeling someone push past you from behind, forcing you to fall back into Dazai's arms. He was basically spooning you from behind, a small purr rolling from his lips as a satisfied smile curled upwards.

"And my (Name) is back again."

"Time to open presents!" Ranpo yelled, already tearing the wrapping paper off of one. You smiled softly, leaning back into Dazai as you watched everyone dig into their presents gleefully.

Such a perfect day.

TAGLIST: @imhandicapableofmath @lovedazai @hauntedsol @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @thesilvernight0wl @s1eepybunny

© MUSAMORA 2023 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[luckydragon10]

A Very Hum Bar Songkran

This is for @kpquickndirty, remix welcome.

This is ALSO for @songkranfest.

I've written this super-duper quickly, so it's probably a mess, but that's all part of the quickndirty fun. Inspiration from all over but mostly from here and here.

~~~

Porsche is up to something. Yok can always tell when Porsche is up to something. 

“Only hand-sized water pistols are allowed inside the bar!” Ball shouts out as a small group enters. “You can leave your soakers in the bin by the door and collect them on the way out! Your first drink tonight comes with a free water pistol.” 

Hum Bar is always a festive place, but it’s especially festive during Songkran. Yok has taken care to strew the place with fresh flowers, and she’s placed mats on the floor to prevent slipping, as patrons playfully squirt each other with small, brightly colored plastic water guns. 

Everyone is smiling, and laughing, as it should always be in Hum Bar. 

But Porsche… Porsche is far too quiet. He’s been whispering to the other bartenders whenever he thinks Yok isn’t watching, and his eyes shift nervously left and right. 

He’s doing it again right now. He’s watching the door and muttering something to Jet behind his hand. 

Then Tem comes in, carrying a bouquet of flowers. 

“Now!” Porsche shouts. “Jom, get jae now!” 

Yok’s first instinct is to brace herself to be soaked with water, but instead Jom, Porsche’s most precious and loyal friend, takes both of Yok’s wrists in his hands. 

“Come with me, over here!” Jom says, and he guides her to the corner booth, where Tem has cleared space and is placing the flowers on the table.

Yok has an inkling of what’s going on now, and she wants no part of it. “Stop, stop at once!” 

Porsche comes out from behind the bar, carrying a large silver bowl in his hands, full of water and flower petals.

“Hello, attention please!” Porsche calls out, and the din dies down as everyone turns heads to look at him. “Thank you, all of you, for joining us and celebrating Songkran with us! We’d now like to invite everyone to greet our senior, the wonderful, beautiful, talented, wise owner of this bar, Yok! She’s a little shy, but don’t let that stop you.” 

Everyone laughs. 

“I told you a million times, I am not an elder!” Yok objects. Porsche has tried to pull similar stunts before, one-on-one, in the back of Hum Bar or before a shift, but never in the middle of the night. Never before has he done it on this sort of scale, inviting all the guests to participate.

Sneaky, clever boy. It’s much harder for Yok to refuse, especially as the guests shout and encourage her to play along. 

“Please, Yok?” Porsche asks. He approaches the table and sets the silver bowl in front of her, and Jet places the smaller one next to it. Then Porsche turns on the puppy eyes. 

Yok feels her heart swell. 

She’s objected for years, not feeling like it was her place, and also not wanting to feel old. But…

“Please?” 

How can she say no?

“Oh, all right,” she relents, which causes everyone to cheer. “But let’s make this quick, so you all can get back to buying my booze, huh?” That earns her another laugh. 

So, one by one, the patrons bow their heads to her, and they use the smaller bowl to respectfully run water over her hands until her fingers feel soft and tender. She gives each of them a word or two of advice while they listen with folded hands. Her words are pleasant little phrases that lift their hearts and make them smile. 

The bartenders take their turns after the patrons. And of them, Porsche approaches her last. He holds her hands gently and looks up at her with something eager and desperate in his eyes, and Yok’s heart goes out to him. 

After he washes her hands, she puts her soggy fingers on one of his cheeks. 

“So naughty and stubborn,” she says, patting his cheek, and he has the grace to lower his eyes, even though he still smirks. “You finally found a way to make me cooperate, huh? After, what, four years?” 

“Five,” he corrects. 

“Cheeky,” Yok says. 

“Do you have any words of wisdom for me, jae?” 

What advice can she possibly give him? This boy has already been through things that Yok can hardly imagine. He’s practically a father to his brother, and he carries his family on his shoulders.

But still…

“You’re twenty-three now, aren’t you, Porsche?” she asks, and he nods, smiling. “Do this elder a favor and find someone who will fill your heart with joy and maybe look after you for a chance.” 

At first, Porsche looks stunned. HIs face goes slack, like the possibility never even occurred to him. Then he grins and shakes his head. 

“Aww, but flying solo is best way to—” 

“Did I stutter?” Yok glares. 

Porsche looks suitably terrified. 

“No, ma’am.”

“Good.” Yok pulls out one of the water pistols she has tucked into the waistband of her skirt and aims it at Porsche. “Back to work with you.”

She pulls the trigger three times in rapid succession, and Porsche yelps.

[xreaderanonaccount]

The last Dance (Pantalone x AFAB!Reader)

It was late, and the masquerade party was almost over. But it doesn’t seem like you would be leaving any time soon. You stood next to Pantalone’s side as he chatted away with some random aristocrat. You were bored out of your mind, these types of parties are never fun. All you do is stand around as Pantalone’s trophy as people completely ignore your existence. Although Pantalone tells you that you are not his trophy it’s really hard to tell when you tried to join the conversation the aristocrats would give you disinterested looks before immediately changing the topic. Your mind wanders off looking around the big bright ball room. The architect was something to marvel at. But it was nothing like the small palace that you and Pantalone share. You internally sighed as you stare out the window, the big maze-like garden beckoning you to explore its beautiful floral. You glanced over at Pantalone who didn’t even glance at you, he just had his hand resting on your lower back. You internally sighed as you looked back out of the window. You notice the giant belltower towering over the maze garden, the time 11:03 p.m.57 more minutes till the masquerade is over.  A small walk outside wouldn’t be bad, would it? If you had your guards with you then surely Pantalone won’t mind. A small scheming smile formed on your face as you spotted your personal guard Afon who was idly watching the two of you. You start to wander off before you feel a sudden grip on your wrist. You look back to see Pantalone staring intently at you. 

“Where are you going my love?” His voice slightly above a whisper, clearly for a one on one conversation. But it was clearly not a one on one as all eyes of the aristocrats were on you. 

“I’m feeling a little stuffy, my dear. I was going to waltz around the maze. That’s all.” You smile as you gently pull your arm back. Pantalone stared at you for a moment, analyzing your face before looking at something behind you. 

“Alright my dear, just take Afon with you.” Pantalone gave a small chuckle before taking your hand again and planting a soft kiss on the back of your hand. You smile as you give a small bow to the rest of the aristocrats before heading over to Afon.

“Afon, may you walk with me through the garden maze?” You smile as you approach Afon who straightens up upon seeing you. 

“Of course madam.” He gave a polite smile as he let you lead the way to the maze. As you walked out to the maze you expected the bitter cold to bite your skin. But to your pleasant surprise instead of the bitter cold, you felt a nice warmth wrapping you up like a soft blanket.  

“I heard the master of this palace had the maze built inside a giant greenhouse,” Afon spoke up, staring up to the white metal cage, “so his wife can take a stroll outside without worrying about the bitter cold of Snezhnaya”. You gasp as you see some of the most beautiful flowers you have ever seen. The array of colors that litter the garden had you in awe. You walked around the garden with Afon close behind admiring each plant that caught your gaze. 

“Do you think if I ask Lord Regrator for something like this he would give it to me?” You smile as you look back at Afon who just laughs.

“Lord Regrator would buy you three Jade Chambers if you so ask.” You laugh along with Afon as you continue your stroll stopping in front of the beautiful fountain. A small sigh escaped your lips as you swayed your body to the soft melody that was leaking out of the open windows. You smile as you imagine you and Pantalone dancing in a beautiful garden. You did a small twirl but tripped on a small pebble, you felt yourself falling backwards, Afon calling your name. You brace yourself for the fall. Yet it never came. 

“My my my lily, you sure are clumsy.” Your eyes shot open, greeted with Pantalone who caught you in his arms. 

“P-Pantalone!” You exclaimed trying to get up trying to readjust your dress. Pantalone chuckled as he watched you fluster over yourself. After you deemed yourself presentable you awkwardly glance over at Pantalone who just gave you a small smile. You glance back at the palace, the soft music comes to its crescendo. Your eyes sparkle as you remember the fantasy you lived through. You hear a soft chuckle before you were swept away by Pantalone. You stare into Pantalone in shock as gave you one of his genuine smiles. He pulled you close to his chest as he led you through the music. Your dress sway through the night, the fabric shining in the moonlight. You close your eyes allowing Pantalone to lead you two through the music. His mossy wood cologne fills your senses, making you feel so safe in his arms. He pulls you away, giving you a little twirl before dipping you down. The music coming to its climatic end. You two stared into each other's eyes, the belltower rang through the cold night sky. Pantalone stares into yours for a moment before leaning down capturing your lips with his. The kiss was soft and tender as he held you tight. Pulling you away he helped you up from the dip, draping his overcoat over your shoulder.

“It’s getting late my dear, let us head back to the Palace. I have some paperwork to finish.” Pantalone whispers into your skin, his breath tickling your ears. 

“Finally, I’ve been bored out of my mind.” You sigh as you dramatically throw yourself onto him. Pantalone chuckled at your antics as he gestured towards Afon who was standing in the shadows. 

“Alright my love, let’s head home.” He smiles, guiding you out of the palace. 

A/N: divider credits: cafekitsune

[bungo-stray-disabilities]

Bc I suffer with it, I like to hc Chuuya with hypermobility (dazai too, but that’s a different hc altogether) and that some days it’s super angsty and he’s just so tired and he wishes he didn’t have to have days where he can’t even pick up his mug of coffee but then other times it’s just pure crack like some random grunt will walk into the cafeteria and see Chuuya holding the kettle bc “it’s warm” or sometimes Dazai notices that his bandages went missing and he later catches Chuuya swearing at his arms as he damn near tries to cut off his circulation but the best one in the eyes of the entire port mafia’s opinion was when Chuuya interrupted an executives meeting to ask if anyone was willing to lend him a bone saw to chop his own arms off at the elbow and Mori couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. M

I love hybermobile chuuya <3 tysm for sharing!!!

Dazai needs to buy that man some actual braces so he stops using bandages for that 😭 (things like wrist and knee braces can help with hypermobility right? I've read that, but if that's wrong please tell me and I'll fix the post)

[wisteriaiswriting]

Hi! Can I please request Junkrat or Venture x (gn) reader where the reader is goth? I just think it’d be a funny dynamic lol

𝔾𝕠𝕥𝕙 𝕊/𝕆

Words: 390

Being honest here, he has no clue what goth is.

But it doesn’t stop him from enjoying everything about it.

Especially if you involve chains and things similar, thinks they’re very sexy on you.

Will look at and feel every garment and accessory you own.

Won’t wear any of them himself, but thinks you look good.

***

“Lookin good, handsome/beautiful!”

His right hand reached forward to grab the chains sitting over your outfit and chest, letting him pull you towards him. Using your own hands to brace against him, which gave him time to pull his hand away. Except he didn’t. Feeling the chains move slightly, looking down to see why.

One of his fingers got caught, more like your chain had trapped him. As it was stuck in his prosthetic finger.

“You really don’t want me to leave, huh?”

Chuckling at his words. Now he’s stopped trying to pull away, instead pulling you closer again. Trapping you in a one armed hug while leaving multiple kisses on the top of your head.

Sloane is just enamored by everything.

If given the opportunity they will try on your clothing, even if they are larger.

Also inspect nearly everything gothic you have.

They’ll buy something small yet similar to your aesthetic, but it’ll be small so it’s less likely to get damaged.

If you wear makeup, they’ll just sit there and watch every step you do.

But please, don’t let them do your makeup, they aren’t that good.

***

“It’s here!”

Sloane’s footsteps rushed through the place as they got closer. Sliding into the room with a package, which they’ve already ripped open but haven’t removed the contents.

“What’s here?”

“The bracelets, duh!”

Digging into a package only to pull out another bag, dropping the first one as they open the second. This allowed you to see what bracelets they meant, they were both black. With many types of beads and a few gems mixed in, but in the middle of each sat one initial.

With a ‘S’ for Sloane and a [Inital] for your own name. Speaking of Sloane, they were giddy, bouncing on their feet as you looked. Leaning forwards, giving you their bracelet, before holding out their arm.

“Put mine on, please!”

Indulging them, you gently wrapped the bracelet around their wrist. Afterwards allowing them to do the same.

[griefabyss69]

Granite

Written for @steddiemicrofic!

[ AO3 ]

'TOP' wc: 510 | rated: M | cw: Boot worship, rope bondage, situational humiliation, under-negotiated kink

Steve has to admit his curiosity and teasing nature gets him into trouble sometimes.

A heavy boot burdens the small of Steve's back as he's pressed face down into the concrete.

His cheek presses into pieces of gravel, his wrists chafe against the rope connecting his wrists to his ankles, and Eddie steps harder. His belt buckle cuts against his lower stomach and with the way his jeans are bunching around his ass, even now he can't help but wonder if he looks good or if he just looks ridiculous.

"Not gonna answer me?" Eddie asks, pushing more weight down as he leans in to peer at him. Steve groans, struggling to look up at him. "Are you going to be good when everyone arrives, or should I keep you tied up?"

Steve shivers, pulling at the rope.

"I'll be good," he says breathlessly.

Eddie eases off of him, standing right by his head, his boots right in front of Steve's face.

"Kiss them," he says, grinding his toe into the dirty cement. "They're clean."

Steve can't know if that's true, though they do look pretty shiny for shoes that belong to Eddie. He sighs; the pressure on his ribs from this position is bracing, but almost too much.

"Fine," he says, and stretches forward, presses careful lips to the top of Eddie's boot.

"C'mon Harrington, where's the passion?" Eddie asks, slowly sliding it forward so Steve doesn't have to strain to reach it. "Show me what the rumors are all about."

Steve squeezes his eyes shut against the embarrassment.

He kisses Eddie's boot harder, a long romantic sweep of his lips, his face burning urgently as he tries not to think about what this looks like, what'd happen if someone came around back and saw them.

"That's it," Eddie laughs, bending to pet his fingers through Steve's hair. "These were expensive, show your appreciation."

Steve's not the one who fucking bought them, and Eddie sure as hell didn't buy them for him, but he obeys anyway, his tongue slipping out to taste the leather. It's not good, but it's fine, and he likes Eddie's fingers against his scalp. He wants to earn more of that.

"The other one now," Eddie says, pulling the boot away just to nudge the second one against Steve's chin. "Loving this little date we're on."

Steve hides a sarcastic huff by kissing the other boot. If this is a date, it's a fucking weird one. He's not even sure what he did to get here, other than making fun of the coil of rope in the back of Eddie's van.

Maybe he shouldn't have said yes when Eddie cocked an eyebrow at him and asked, joking, if Steve would like him to show him exactly what he had the rope for. He'd even done a whip crack sound and winked at him.

Now, he's here, and despite how humiliating the whole thing is, especially how quickly Eddie was able to wrestle him down and fucking tie him like a pig, his cock is hard and he's starting to feel like all he wants is more of Eddie's attention.

[nshtn]

you're wesker's sparring partner. today you set out to teach him how to harness Progenitor to his advantage in mixed hand-to-hand combat. his responses give you more than you ever bargained for, though.

tw: suggestive, 'gunplay', praise kink, sadomasochistic wesker.

this time it was about using Progenitor to his advantage.

he's on you in almost seconds, disappearing from your sight and reappearing over and over as you can do no more than brace yourself. when he gets close, he stops, though, ego buying you the time to bury his win with a punch that has you gaining some distance, crack sounding out.

that's got to hurt, but if it does, he doesn't show it. maybe he regenerated that fast?

he spits red and growls before he moves in on you again, and you can see in the way the veins on his arms darken and pump and snake into the fringes of his gloves that he's charging up to send you flying. you focus everything on dodging it, knowing he can only reasonably throw a few before the burst of power dissipates, and you hear the animalistic sound of his frustration crackle out of him as he pushes the remains of it through his larynx at your breakneck pacing.

but then his eyebrows soften again, and he's back to the cold, calculating man you usually see. even with the virus coursing through him, he tempers himself as quickly as he tailspins.

good. he needs to reign in the aggression it supplies. you don't want impulse dethroning logic when it really counts.

maybe you should focus on that?

he stiffens as you close in on him and throw a kick that he sidesteps with inhuman speed and the squeak of his boot, and you follow up with several crescent kicks that never land. "good job," you say, and he hums in response, brilliant predatory eyes landing on your own and searching them for truth.

wesker finds it too late, because you take the moment his guard is down to kick him backwards, and, to your surprise, when he attempts to use the virus to stabilize himself, the weight of it makes him land on the floor. you take the opportunity immediately, straddling him with your own.

you know he's going to try to throw you off, so you pin his wrists above his head, stretching the muscles out.

he thrashes like an angry fish, locks of his usually-perfect hair tumbling forward, but he can't push the virus into his arms to shove you off - he's like a crocodile with its' mouth held shut, every ounce of power to bite and none to pry its' jaws free.

he sniggers a little. you cock a brow and pull a gun out, pointing it at him.

his eyes widen, laugh turning breathless.

you punctuate this trial with your trigger finger, making it click.

you toss it aside. of course he should've known it was a prop. you would never truly hurt him... and in secret, he relished in that. still...

the action of making it click - the hammer striking the firing pin, the mechanical action stirring despite the lack of a bullet - makes his heart race and his blood pump immediately.

and it is times like these, moments that would ultimately mean death if they were real, that are the things that make his cheeks bubble and burst forth with heat.

you feel it in the thing that is now digging into the meat of your lower body, which is pressed flush and rough against his lower torso to keep him beneath you. you freeze, letting his wrists go as color springs to you, and to your shock, he doesn't push you off.

it's like a dare he cannot say out loud...

his breath fans out hot against you and your hands shake as they return beside each of his shoulders very, very slowly, palms against the floor.

he's allowing it...

one hand goes up to his shades, fingers flexing on the rim, pulling them down. you admire his face for a few seconds... disheveled hair, sweat and pheromones dripping down his sideburns, brackish veins that scramble across his temple and those beautiful, forbidden eyes locked on your own.

"you're gorgeous," you say. you don't know where to take this. his brows raise again, and you feel the way he throbs under you at your unbridled, positive attention...

and then they furrow.

he throws you off of him, having had the time to calculate where to push and pull Progenitor's power. in seconds, he's above you, pushing his shades up as he wags one gloved finger. "you got distracted," he disciplines, the words rolling off him with a deep, controlling tease, as if what happened in that moment was all according to plan.

but you both know it wasn't, and now you know he's into you.

[leafsbabe]

Jeff Skinner - desperate times (SMUT)

just a quickie at 1.6k

It always sucked when Jeff and the team had to leave for a longer road trip but this time the experience had been downright tortuous. The Sabres had only been gone for two days out of an eight day trip when your only salvation, your beloved vibrator, broke. A tragedy. When you told Jeff you had thought that he would offer his condolences, maybe even hoped that he would offer for you to buy a new one on his card, but what you got instead was him telling you to wait until he got home and that you could pick out a new one together.

So when Jeff walked through the door of your shared house a week later —a week filled with failed masturbation attempts— it was no surprise that you skipped the welcome home and went straight to jumping him. 

The bags he was holding fell onto the ground as he wrapped his arms around you, securing you as you kissed him hard enough for your lips to sting a little when you pulled back.

“Hello?” He looked so adorably confused with his toque pulled over the ears, the deep blush on his face, and the scruffy beard. It looked like Jeff had skipped shaving for a few days and you couldn’t wait to feel it between your legs.

“Hi.” You smiled at him before connecting your lips again.

It was pretty easy to corral Jeff into the bedroom after he caught onto your intentions. Watching him struggle to get naked while you laid back on the bed even almost made up for the time spent apart. When you finally had all of him to yourself again you didn’t waste any time, pulling him onto the bed in a stubborn single mindedness. He went willingly, his hands automatically coming up to your hips to help steady you as you straddled him. Jeff wasn’t fully hard yet, but you could feel him starting to thicken against the back of your thigh. God, you needed him to hurry up.

You were too impatient to wait for him to fuck you, too impatient to wait for him to get you off. So instead you started to move. Small but rough grinds against his strong thigh between yours. He didn’t say anything in response, only bit his lip as he laid back, obviously enjoying the show.

“You don’t know how bad this week has been.” With one hand braced against Jeff’s chest you reached behind yourself to take his dick in your other. “The damn toy died and I haven’t been able to get off. When I touch myself the angle hurts my wrist and the water pressure in the shower is a joke. Do you know how hard it is to be horny for a week straight? Without being able to get off, Jeffrey?”

Jeff swallowed hard and you could feel his dick twitch against your palm. You gave him a couple strokes until you thought he was hard enough, before rising up and guiding him into you as you sank back down.

There was nothing gentle about the way you were riding Jeff, shamelessly and selfishly. There simply wasn’t any time to wait until you adjusted to his size or to spend thinking about his pleasure. You had waited a week to get off and you wouldn’t be made to wait any longer.

Jeff for his part didn’t seem to mind. He seemed perfectly content to just lay there and let you take what you needed. You set a fast pace, fully knowing that you couldn't manage to keep it up for long, but you didn’t need to. This was about a quick orgasm, not endurance. Below you Jeff shifted his hips, changing the angle of himself inside you and drawing a moan from your lips. He was hitting all the right spots inside but even though the muscles in your thighs started to burn, release still felt so far away. Your rhythm started to falter and you were so close to giving up when Jeff brought his hand to where you were joined and circled his thumb around your clit, pushing you over the edge.

The sudden release did more than just making your thighs shake. It caught you off guard, knocking the air out of your lungs and the thoughts out of your head as you fell apart above him. Once you calmed down enough for your brain to start working again you noticed only two things.

you were still sitting on his lap, albeit a little more slumped forward 

Jeff continued to be hard inside you, filling you up completely even after you had come... meaning he didn’t

“I'm sorry.” Embarrassment washed over you and for a moment you wondered if post-nut clarity was a thing for women as well. Did you really just jump your boyfriend and used him as a glorified sex toy?

“Don’t be.” He looked up at you, breathing heavily, with a big smile on his face. “That was hot.”

It took a few more moments before you had the energy to move off him, letting yourself fall onto the sheets beside him. You didn’t want to make the first move but thankfully Jeff noticed and brought an arm around you to pull you against his chest.

“It’s been a long week.” You started, feeling the sudden need to explain yourself. Pressed against him so tightly you could feel your lips graze his skin with every word. “I just couldn’t concentrate or focus and you were gone so I wasn’t able to take care of it.”

Jeff stroked your bed softly, calming you down while you laid there. The afterglow was slowly fading away when he motioned for you to move a little so that he could get up. “I’ll just…” he gestured towards the en suite. It took you a second to get it but between his sheepish expression and his still rather prominent erection it was clear to you that he was excusing himself to take care of things in the bathroom.

Oh that sweet man.

“Don’t.” You held your hand out and when he took it you drew him back onto the bed beside you. “Let me take care of you.”

Jeff was wonderfully hard when you took him in your hand, moaning deeply when you gave him a few strokes. One of the things you loved the most about your boyfriend was how vocal he was in bed, even if he tried his hardest to silence himself. You took one last look at him, sprawled across the bed —curls messed up and his chest flushed all the way down to the trail of hair below his navel— before bending down and taking him in your mouth as far as you could.

You didn’t try to draw things out, to tease him or to make him wait for it. You just wanted to make him come. The need flowing through you felt different than the one before that had you chasing your release relentlessly but not any less intense.

He writhed on the bed as you worked him over, thighs trembling under your hands where you held them open. Jeff tried not to buck up, tried not to choke you on his dick even though you wanted him to. Swallowing around him nearly made him sob but you didn’t stop.  

You ran your tongue up his entire length, from the base to the top before circling his tip. Jeff groaned and you repeated the motion. When you looked up through your lashes you were greeted by a beautiful sight. Jeff was a mess, biting his lips in an attempt to silence his moans and gripping the sheets hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. It didn’t take much more to set him off. You moaned around him and dug your fingers into the thick flesh of his thighs as he fell apart below you.

You swallowed without letting the taste of him linger but continued to hold him in your mouth while he softened.

“Maybe.” He spoke after both of you had calmed down, cuddled up under the blanket. “Maybe we should do that again. You’re really hot when you’re desperate.”

That earned him a slap against the chest. “Don’t even think about it.”

You woke up the next morning with your face pressed firmly against your boyfriend’s hip. It took a moment for you to blink awake, but when you did you could see that Jeff was sitting up with his back against the headboard, laptop balanced on his lap. He had his bottom lip drawn between his teeth, gaze locked intently on the screen in front of him as he scrolled.

For a moment you debated sitting up to lean beside him but the lingering idleness of sleep paired with the sting of the beard burn Jeff had given you during the second (or was it the third?) round last night made you feel just lazy enough to stay horizontal. 

It took Jeff a while before he noticed that you were awake but when he did, his face lit up. “Good morning.” He mumbled, brushing your hair back from your forehead.

You lifted your head slightly, just until you could rest your head against his lap properly, pillowing it on his thigh. “Morning.” 

It was only when Jeff shifted his laptop to let you see the screen that you noticed what he had been looking at.

 “I know we wanted to look together, but I think I found a few toys you would enjoy.”

[earlgraytay]

If you're going to make a post about not buying cheap random binders maybe give some cheap alternatives instead of "uwu I only CARE about you and don't want you TO GET HORRIBLY HURT," holier than thou, hyberbolic garbage. Give some alternatives other than "buy expensive stuff uwu" lmao

Wow. What an incredibly rude and hostile way to talk to someone you don't know. Anyway. I'm the wrong person to answer this question, for three reasons.

I haven't had anything to bind since 2017, and wasn't able to bind for a good few years prior, on account of, you know, fucking up my ribs with a crappy Amazon binder. It's been nearly a decade since I've been on the market for a binder. I do not know what the scene looks like right now. Miku Hatsune could have descended from heaven, dropped a binder that's so good it blows your tits off, and I wouldn't know, because I haven't had to buy a binder since 2014.

The notes on my original post are a fucking gold mine of information that I wouldn't have been able to give you- both up-to-date information on which companies are most reputable, and information on what to do if you're too low-income to get a full price binder, including folks from the Global South talking about where to get binders if you don't live in the US or UK. If you actually want information on where to get a reasonably priced binder, look there.

..... I'm going to reiterate what I have been saying this entire time.

A binder is a piece of medical equipment. It is not a fashion statement, it is not just a form of gender expression, and it is not something you can afford to take lightly.

There are things in this world you can cheap out on. You can buy store-brand cheerios, or dollar store dish soap, or gently used jeans, and you will be okay.

Medical equipment is not something you can cheap out on. If you cheap out on medical equipment, you can seriously injure yourself. You should be just as careful about buying a binder as you should be about buying a CPAP machine, a mobility aid, or a wrist brace.

The alternatives are not "buy expensive stuff", "buy cheap stuff", or "go without."

The alternatives are "buy high-quality stuff- which is expensive because it was designed by skilled medical professionals and/or sewists to work with your body's needs instead of against them", "buy low-quality stuff that could seriously injure or even kill you", "go without", or "get assistance from one of the organizations that exists specifically to help transmascs/NB people with this kind of thing".

Yes. I'm going to be self-righteous about this. The sheer number of trans guys who are putting themselves at risk of rib damage, pneumonia, and other permanent injuries because they're buying cheap, dangerous crap that's getting pushed at them... how can you see that and not want to warn them?

FFS, dude.