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masclesbianism · 7 months ago

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i forgot to reblog this gn BUT YA ☺️☺️🤞🏼

— ࣪ the hauntings.

— ࣪ synopsis . the haunting of jackie taylor is everywhere for shauna. she's sees jackie so much in you but she's confused if she's in love with you or her dead best friend.

pairing . shauna shipman x female reader

G . angst and fluff ꔫ

the lingering of jackie taylor was never stopping and shauna knew that, she knew she could never see her best friend again and even if she could jackie would've never forgave her for the shit she'd done. but that doesn't forget that she's everywhere. her scent, some of her clothes, her blanket she was sleeping on and that god damn necklace. it wasn't a secret that shauna wears it everyday but she can't deny the guilt she feels when she does so.

but she still has the lingering taste on her tongue whenever she swallows and it hurts. everything hurts to her and it won't stop, that was until shauna started seeing you. she always saw you passing by helping out tai and van but she couldn't stop herself from seeing jackie. she hated that, she hated you so much cause of how much u were like jackie.

shauna didn't know when she would snap it felt like her skin was rotting every second of every day. you were just so perfect. the way your hair would fall so naturally, the excessive jewelry u kept, the laugh u would let out of a stupid joke van made, and those green eyes. your eyes was probably the most thing that made shauna think of jackie, of course it was jackie had the most beautiful eyes ever it was like looking into lava lamp from the way she had u memorized.

shauna loved that about her and she hated that u resembled that so well. shauna tried to not show the hate but it honestly was really hard i mean can u blame her u were a carbon copy of jackie which made her want to cry.

the first time she started to notice that she was in love with you was when she laughed for the first time in a while. it was a really corny pick up line you made while you guys were sorting through ur luggage cause to be honest who packs this much on a trip for only a few days. shauna was sitting down next to you while you guys were both picking apart your suitcase, whenever the room got quiet for too long you put down the shirt you had in your hands and looked at shauna.

“do you know any pickup lines?” you said while messing with the charms on ur bracelet and shauna turned her head to you looking at you up and down in a more confusing way and not a why are you talking to me way.

“um not really why” shauna tilted her head and saw you scrunch your nose for a while, which shauna noticed you often do that alot.

”i know some reallly good ones wanna hear?” you clapped ur hands in a excited way as your eyes lit up.

“uhh sure” she replied as she laid down on the mattress which she saw that you did right after.

“u spend so much time in my mind i should charge u rent girl” you giggled a little at your own add on to the pickup line as you refused to look a shauna for her reaction to that unfunny pickup line.

and surprisingly shauna started laughing like actually laughing. you've never seen her give you a real smile but a laugh? yeah she'll take it. “oh my god is that real?” she wiped her eye from them being watery before because of all the dust up here.

”yes it is! i swear” you turned your head to look at the doe eyed girl who was smiling at you and for a second you guys just stared at each other. a little longer then people normally stare at each other but it just felt right. at least to shauna it felt that way, for a moment she forgot everything that has happened but at the same time she still remembered everything. for a hot minute shauna saw jackie looking at her smiling with that same uniform jacket she had on, “do i look like her shauna?” she heard and saw jackie talking to her and shauna wanted it to be real god she really did. but her conscience knew it wasn't which made her snap out of it in the most subtle way.

”shauna?” you said as you waved your hand in front of her face and shauna looked up at you the smile that she originally had on faded a while ago.

”we should continue unpacking” you commented on the suitcase that you guys barely unpacked, which sounds like we're going on a trip to las vegas or something but no we're literally stuck in the wilderness. shauna wasn't really over the moment that just happened but her eyes still kept wandering to you and she didn't know if she wanted to kiss you or cry in your arms.

that's what really fucked her up she didn't know what she felt. was she really in love with you or her dead best friend? that shit really kept her up at night which was every night, she couldn't sleep at all cause she kept thinking of you and jackie. whenever she tried to go to sleep she kept smelling your scent, you smelt almost like vanilla same as jackie's perfume she always kept in her bag.

it was everyday. shauna couldn't get you out of her mind every time you were walking she saw jackie walking around which made her start ignoring you. she couldn't handle the pain from just looking at you, it hurt it really fucking hurt. every time you would try to go up to her she would walk away or just not respond and if she did it was some snarky remark.

shauna was naturally a over thinker she thinks she was just born with that. born with the will to care about people so much it fucks up your mental health and how you take care of yourself. but as she normally does she was doing just that right now, she was sitting on the porch playing with a strand of her hair while pecks of snow was falling on her hair. 'does she love you?' kept replaying in her head like a puzzle of a rubric cube, shauna didn't know but she couldn't just go up to you and just flat out kiss you to get her answer. but the more she thought of it the more overwhelmed she got, the pace shauna was messing with that strand of hair got faster and everything felt like a ticking time bomb in her mind.

then she just stopped and stood up while she started to sob, she covered up her mouth so nobody could hear her let out these honestly pathetic sobs. shauna wanted to curl up into a ball and just hide, hide forever but that wasn't what she really wanted was it? she wanted needed you. she needed it so bad that she got overstimulated from how much she was crying and she felt the cold start falling on her body, shauna could almost feel like cold was slowly eating at her insides. shauna honestly couldn't move she couldn't find the upper body strength to move and she was like a shadow.

that was until you came outside and saw shauna just standing up sobbing. ”shauna? what are you doing out here?” you put a blanket on her shoulders as she tensed up from the warmth from the blanket. she tried to make words come out of her mouth but she just couldn't all that came out was cries.

“cmon let's go inside.” you looked at her as you understood the state she was in and you softly put a hand on her back, leading her inside and upstairs to the attic.

you placed her down on the mattress while she was still sobbing but not as much whenever she first started crying, and you started wiping down the snow that was in her hair until you couldn't really see anymore. “wanna tell me why you were crying?” you spoke in a soft tone as you kneeled down to her level.

she didn't know what to say. she couldn't just say ' i don't know if im in love with you or my dead best friend because you are literally a carbon copy of her.' shauna tried to say anything but she couldn't really focus because of your hand that was on hers it honestly made her want to cry more.

but eventually she said something it took a while but could u honestly blame her. “i- i think no i know im in love with you and im confused because i don't know i actually love you or jackie which you look alot like her and i just i can't —” shauna spoke faster than usual as she put her hands in her hair and just started sobbing more, you couldn't really think of anything right now. where you actually that similar to jackie? the fact didn't really scare or weird you out more of a does shauna really love me to the point she started seeing jackie or did she always see jackie in you?

but you ignored your problems for a second and hugged shauna, the way she just melted into your arms felt natural to the both of you guys. the violent sobs that came out of her almost made you want to cry with her, you put your hand in shauna's hair softly rubbing her scalp in a soothing way not wanting to hurt her at all.

you never spoke you just wanted her to let all of her sobs out, i mean when was the last time she actually hugged and had a meaningful moment with someone like this. shauna laid her head on your chest and hugged your waist as her sobs started to get quieter.

shauna never wanted this moment to end that's probably why she kept holding onto you until you made the move to let go. “are you okay now?” shauna simply nodded her head as she wiped her eyes and looked up at you as she fidgeted with the ring on her finger.

you placed a hand on her cheek and tilted your head sideways as you tried to find the right words to say after what she just told you.

“do you love me?” you asked her as your hand was still on her cold cheek. shauna didn't know what to say whatever came out of her mouth was complete nonsense but she still got to say something at least.

“i- i don't know i love you but i don't know if im confusing you with jackie i just i- i dont know.” shauna started picking at her skin on her thumb and you placed ur hand down on hers which made her stop picking at it but she still had the urge to.

to be honest shauna didn't have the right energy to answer all these questions not in the state she was in right now and you noticed that. “okay, well uhm goodnight shauna.” you stated as you got up and was about to leave the attic but shauna pulled at your arm. “can u stay with me? please.” you then softly smiled as you nodded and shauna was waiting for you to lie down first before she can.

you laid down and she did the same right after you while also putting the blanket on both of you guys. you stared at shauna as she was trying to fall asleep but just couldn't from how hard she was struggling to. shauna just gave up and noticed that you were just staring at her in those kinda loving eyes.

shauna didn't know how much the tension was going on but it must of been enough for you to kiss her. you just slowly leaned in and tucked a hair behind her ear that was in front of her face, kissing her soft lips. you didn't mind the coldness since she was outside for a period of time but you honestly could tell she got warmer by the second. shauna wanted to pull you in closer she really did but she didn't wanna fuck anything up and the taste of your sweet lips was enough for her even if it was a small portion of what she wanted. you pulled away and looked up at her eyes then her lips. shauna softly smiled at you it wasn't a regular or big smile but you'll take it, you just wanted to see her happy for once.

shauna paused before she said anything but she eventually had the courage to do so. ”i love you.” shauna sleepily said as she bit her cheek and look anywhere but your face. “i- i don't care if you don't think i don't but i believe i do. i truly do.” shauna added on and you kissed her cheek which surprised her a little. “i love you too.” you replied and smiled back at her which she responded with a little laugh.

she then found herself cuddled up into your arms slowly falling asleep, she found your presence comforting and it's probably the only way she could sleep from now on was from you just being there. it was the only sense of comfort that she found in this hellhole, but she knew she loved you and maybe that is what finally made her sleep peacefully.

@ bro don't read this while listening to the marias i was acc suffering crying on my knees 💔

but enjoy this gut wrenching fanfic .. i luv yall

taglist - making one soon 🤞🏼

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masclesbianism · 7 months ago

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im only going to watch this show cause of her 👅👅

RUBY CRUZ as ASH in THE SEX LIVES OF COLLEGE GIRLS | 3.07

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masclesbianism · 7 months ago

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can someone PLEASE write sub ellie williams and sub vi cause i know those two are total LOSERS like ellie literally collects superhero cards and gets so giggly around dina 😡😡 AND WITH VI bro she was stuck in prison most of her life and with how much trauma she has i just know she just wants to get taken care of bro 💔💔 but also bratty vi & ellie is my LIFESTYLEEE PLEASE

#vi arcane #vi x reader #vi x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams x female reader #sub ellie williams #sub vi #loser ellie williams pleade #MY GIRLS 💔

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masclesbianism · 7 months ago

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NEED DATTTT

I'm so tired of toxic ellie x reader so I'm writing a TOXIC READER X FUCKASS LOSER ELLIE FIC ☝️☝️☝️

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masclesbianism · 7 months ago

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oh im fucking dead this is gorgeous 💔

── 𝓢weetest 𝓣orture ( jackie taylor ) ּ 𓂅 ⋆

・❥・─── 𝓢𝗬𝗡. a sugar-coated ache, golden and cruel, where longing is worship and desire feels like ruin.

( pairing ) — jackie taylor x female!reader 𝜗𝒞 ; angst & fluff ℳ. this is based off of the song lacy by liv !! 𓂃 ( 2.8k )

there's something about jackie taylor that makes the air feel thick with divinity. not a girl, not yet a woman, but something celestial—a creature so exquisite that the gods themselves must weep with envy. her skin glows like sunlight spilling over pale morning clouds, soft and warm, with a delicate fragility that reminds me of pastry crumbling beneath careful hands. she moves through spaces like she's dancing through starlight, and i'm left breathless in her wake, collecting the stardust that falls from her shoulders.

and i, a mere mortal, am cursed to know her. to see her and want her and burn under the weight of my own longing until every breath feels like inhaling fire. some days, i think i might combust from the sheer intensity of it all.

we're not supposed to feel this way about other people, are we? this kind of worship, this feverish ache that wraps itself around my ribs and refuses to let go. i am caught, tangled in her web, and every attempt to free myself only draws me closer to her light. it's a magnetic pull that defies physics, defies reason, defies every attempt i make to break free.

i remember the first day i saw her on campus. august heat made the air shimmer, and there she was, golden hair catching the sunlight like a crown. my heart stopped, then started again with a different rhythm—a rhythm that spelled out her name with every beat. jackie. jackie. jackie.

she was helping her parents unload boxes from their car, laughing at something her father said. the sound carried across the parking lot like wind chimes in a summer breeze, and i nearly dropped my own box of belongings. of all the colleges in all the world, she had to choose this one. my fresh start was over before it began.

she doesn't know. how could she? jackie moves through the world like it was made for her—head held high, eyes bright as morning dew, wearing a smile that could cut down armies and heal wounds in the same breath. she is a starlet reborn, a modern brigitte bardot, all charm and grace and effortless beauty. the kind of person who doesn't have to try to be remarkable. and she doesn't.

that's the cruelest part of all.

college was supposed to be my fresh start. after years of being tethered to my past—my mistakes, my insecurities, my endless jealousy—it was supposed to be my chance to let go, to become someone new. someone who didn't spend their nights writing poetry about unrequited love, someone who didn't feel like their skin was too tight for their body, someone who could breathe without feeling like they were drowning in want.

but then jackie chose the same school, and my carefully constructed plans unraveled like a sweater caught on a nail, leaving me exposed and raw.

she is everywhere.

in the dorm hallways, her laughter echoing off the walls like a siren's call. i've memorized the sound of her footsteps, the way they fall light and quick against the linoleum. sometimes i wait in my room, ear pressed against the door, just to hear her pass by. it's pathetic, i know, but i can't help myself. i'm addicted to even the smallest pieces of her.

in the library, she's a vision of concentrated beauty. head bent over textbooks, bottom lip caught between her teeth, the curve of her neck so perfect it makes my stomach churn with want. she twirls a strand of hair around her finger when she's deep in thought, and i've filled entire pages of my notebook just describing that simple gesture. the way the gold catches the fluorescent lights, the graceful movement of her fingers, the slight furrow in her brow as she reads.

at parties, she's ethereal. spinning under string lights in the cramped living rooms of off-campus houses, her golden hair catching the glow like it was spun from sunbeams. she dances like nobody's watching, but everyone is. how could they not? she's magnetic, drawing every eye in the room without even trying. i watch her from corners, from doorways, from behind red solo cups that i pretend to sip from. i watch her, and i burn.

and in my literature class. of all the small mercies the universe could have granted me, it denied me this one. jackie taylor sits a row ahead of me, her notebook open to pages of perfect handwriting, her pen tapping softly against her desk in a rhythm that matches my heartbeat. sometimes she wears her hair up, exposing the delicate nape of her neck, and i have to dig my nails into my palms to keep from reaching out to touch it.

she has no idea how much i hate her for it.

but hate is the wrong word.

hate implies anger, bitterness, something sharp and biting. this is different. this is the kind of loathing that curls inward, burrows into your chest, and eats you alive from the inside out. it's jealousy, yes, but more than that. it's admiration so intense it feels like a wound that refuses to heal, a constant ache that throbs with every glimpse of her.

i've started cataloging her outfits in my mind, creating a digital archive of every sweater, every skirt, every perfectly coordinated accessory. today it's a cream-colored cardigan that makes her look like she stepped out of a vintage photograph. the soft wool catches the light when she moves, creating halos around her shoulders. her hair is loose today, falling in gentle waves that make my fingers itch to run through them.

jackie is too kind, too sweet, too thoughtful in ways that make me feel like i'm unraveling thread by thread. she compliments me sometimes—offhandedly, casually, like she's not dropping bombs that explode in slow motion beneath my skin.

last week, she stopped me after class. "that point you made about symbolism in plath's work was brilliant," she said, and i nearly choked on my own tongue. she remembered something i said. she thought about it. she thought about me.

"your hair looks nice today," she'll say as we pass in the hallway, her voice carrying the warmth of summer afternoons.

and i'll nod, choking out a quick "thanks," while my pulse thrums in my throat and my stomach twists itself into elaborate nautical knots. her words shouldn't matter. they shouldn't burrow under my skin like splinters, shouldn't stay with me for hours, days, weeks. but they do. and it makes me hate her. it makes me hate myself even more.

at night, i lie awake and replay every interaction, every glimpse, every moment she's existed in my proximity. i imagine different scenarios, different endings. in some, i'm brave enough to tell her how i feel. in others, she confesses first. In most, i just watch her from afar, burning and burning and burning.

i write about her constantly. my notebooks are filled with half-finished poems and prose pieces that try to capture the essence of her. how do you describe someone who seems made of light? how do you put into words the way your chest aches when they smile? how do you explain that you're drowning in the ocean of your own wanting?

"write about longing," our professor says, her voice cutting through the comfortable silence of the classroom like a knife through butter.

the class groans collectively, a few students laughing nervously at the vulnerability the assignment demands. i barely hear them. my heart is already pounding against my ribcage like it's trying to escape, my palms slick with sweat. finally, an excuse to put this ache on a paper other than mine.

"desire," she continues, her eyes scanning the room. "the kind of want that keeps you up at night. the ache you can't ignore, even when you wish you could."

i glance at jackie before i can stop myself, a moth drawn to its inevitable destruction. she's sitting straight, her face calm, unbothered. of course she is. jackie taylor has never wanted for anything in her life. she's never had to learn to live with the kind of hunger that gnaws at your insides, that makes you forget what it feels like to be full.

but me? my longing has become a second skin, an ever-present ghost that wraps itself around my throat and pulls tight until breathing becomes an act of defiance.

the poem consumes me like wildfire.

i write it over three sleepless nights, the words pouring out of me like blood from a wound. my roommate finds me at 3 am, hunched over my desk, tears streaming down my face as i write. she asks if i’m okay. i lie and say it's just stress about midterms.

how do you explain that you're writing about the way someone's existence has become both your salvation and your destruction? how do you tell someone that you're crafting a confession that will either set you free or burn you alive?

i don't name her in the poem. i don't need to. instead, i write about angels. about cathedrals and sunlight and the soft cruelty of someone who doesn't know the damage they're causing. i write about jealousy, about the way it festers and rots and turns love into something ugly yet still beautiful in its devastation. i write about longing so deep it feels like drowning, and about the sweetness of surrendering to it anyway.

when i'm done, i sit back, my chest heaving, my eyes burning with unshed tears that refuse to fall. it's her. it's always been her. every word, every metaphor, every carefully crafted line is a love letter i never intended to send.

the day of the reading arrives, and i feel like i'm walking to my own execution, each step bringing me closer to a beautiful destruction of my own making.

our professor insists that poetry must be spoken aloud to be truly felt. i disagree. some feelings are too raw, too personal to be shared. some words are meant to stay hidden, buried in journals and password-protected files. but here i am, about to lay my soul bare in front of twenty pairs of eyes, including hers.

jackie sits in her usual seat, a row ahead of me. today, her golden hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail that catches the fluorescent lights like a halo. she's wearing that cream cardigan again, the one that makes her look like she belongs in a classical painting. she looks calm, relaxed, her notebook open in front of her like this is just another day, just another class.

my hands tremble as the professor calls my name.

i stand, clutching my notebook so tightly the pages crinkling under my fingers, and walk to the front of the room. my heart is racing, my stomach in knots, and i can't seem to catch my breath. but then i see her, and something shifts inside me. if this is my confession, my moment of truth, then let it be beautiful. let it be worthy of her.

the words pour out of me like a prayer,

the room is silent when i finish, the kind of silence that feels like holding your breath underwater. i keep my eyes fixed on the page, too afraid to look up, too afraid to see the faces of my classmates—or worse, jackie's. my hands are shaking so badly i can barely read the words anymore.

there's a polite smattering of applause, soft and distant, like i'm hearing it from underwater. i force myself to walk back to my seat, each step feeling like i'm moving through molasses. i sit down, my chest tight, my head spinning with the weight of what i've just done.

and then i feel it.

jackie's eyes on me, heavy as a physical touch.

i glance up, and she's turned completely around in her seat, staring at me with an intensity that makes my breath catch. her lips are parted slightly, and there's something in her expression i've never seen before. recognition? understanding? horror? i can't tell, and before i can analyze it further, the professor calls the next name, and the moment shatters like glass.

the rest of class passes in a blur. i don't hear a single word anyone else reads. all i can focus on is the weight of jackie's presence in front of me, the way she keeps shifting in her seat, the way her hand trembles slightly as she writes in her notebook.

when class ends, i shove my things into my bag as quickly as possible, ready to flee, to hide, to pretend this never happened. but as i step into the hallway, i hear her voice.

"wait."

i freeze, my pulse racing, my breath catching in my throat like a butterfly in a net. slowly, i turn around.

jackie stands there, bathed in the harsh fluorescent lights of the hallway, yet somehow still looking ethereal. her cheeks are flushed pink, and she's clutching her notebook to her chest like a shield.

"that was..." she trails off, searching for the right words, her eyes never leaving mine. "beautiful."

i don't know what to say. my throat is dry, my hands trembling with the weight of everything unsaid. years of longing and watching and wanting press against my ribcage, threatening to spill out.

jackie takes a step closer, then another, until she's close enough that i can smell her perfume—something light and floral that makes my head spin. her gaze is locked on mine with an intensity that makes my knees weak.

"was it..." she pauses, licks her lips nervously. "was it about someone you know?"

my heart stutters, trips, falls. for a moment, i think about lying, about brushing it off, about running until my lungs burn and my legs give out. but then i meet her eyes—those eyes that have haunted my dreams and nightmares alike—and something in me breaks wide open.

"yes," i whisper, the word falling from my lips like a prayer.

her breath hitches, a small sound that echoes in the space between us like thunder. and then, before i can think, before i can stop her, before i can do anything but exist in this moment, she steps forward and kisses me.

it’s soft at first, tentative, a question more than an answer. but then i make a small, desperate sound in the back of my throat, and something in her shifts. her hands come up to cup my face, gentle but sure, and she kisses me like she's been thinking about it as long as i have. like she's been burning too.

she tastes like cherry chapstick and possibility, and i feel myself melting into her touch like snow in spring. my hands find her waist, pulling her closer, needing to feel the solid reality of her against me. this can't be real. this has to be real.

when we finally break apart, we're both breathing heavily. jackie rests her forehead against mine, her thumbs stroking softly over my cheekbones. when i open my eyes, she's already looking at me, and what i see in her gaze makes my heart stutter.

there's wonder there, and vulnerability, and something that looks remarkably like the longing I've been carrying around all this time. she's looking at me like i'm something precious, something worth wanting, something worth burning for.

"i didn't know," she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. "i didn't know you felt it too."

and in that moment, i realize that maybe we've both been haunted all along. maybe we've both been burning, both been yearning, both been writing poems in the dark about the agony of wanting something we thought we couldn't have.

i reach up and touch her face, tracing my fingers along her jaw like i've imagined doing a thousand times. she leans into the touch, her eyes fluttering closed, and my heart feels too big for my chest.

"jackie," i breathe, and her name tastes like salvation on my tongue.

she smiles then, bright and beautiful and real, and kisses me again. and again. and again. until the fluorescent lights dim and the hallway empties and the world narrows down to just this: her lips on mine, her hands in my hair, her heart beating against my chest.

the sweetest torture has become the sweetest relief, and i surrender to it completely.

❝ 𝟐𝟐𝟐 ❞ 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻, @carvedtits @et6rnalsun @wovenribbons @waitforyrlove @elizabebabe @ncm9696 @marrykisskilled @maggot3647 @ifwdominicfike @sweetestpoetic @ch6rm

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masclesbianism · 7 months ago

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— ࣪ the hauntings.

— ࣪ synopsis . the haunting of jackie taylor is everywhere for shauna. she's sees jackie so much in you but she's confused if she's in love with you or her dead best friend.

pairing . shauna shipman x female reader

G . angst and fluff ꔫ

“um not really why” shauna tilted her head and saw you scrunch your nose for a while, which shauna noticed you often do that alot.

”i know some reallly good ones wanna hear?” you clapped ur hands in a excited way as your eyes lit up.

“uhh sure” she replied as she laid down on the mattress which she saw that you did right after.

”shauna?” you said as you waved your hand in front of her face and shauna looked up at you the smile that she originally had on faded a while ago.

“cmon let's go inside.” you looked at her as you understood the state she was in and you softly put a hand on her back, leading her inside and upstairs to the attic.

you placed a hand on her cheek and tilted your head sideways as you tried to find the right words to say after what she just told you.

@ bro don't read this while listening to the marias i was acc suffering crying on my knees 💔

but enjoy this gut wrenching fanfic .. i luv yall

taglist - making one soon 🤞🏼

#shauna shipman x reader #shauna shipman x you #shauna shipman x fem!reader #my doe eyed girl 💔💔#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #jackieshauna #misunderstood to a LEVEL.#tlou #the last of us #arcane #sturniolo triplets

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masclesbianism · 7 months ago

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OH YES MA'AMMM!!!

mdni, sub bottom!vi, fem top!reader, strap-on usage, doggystyle, vaginal sex, squirting

wc 1,184

thinking about fucking vi from behind with your strap. it’s light pink and glittery (and vi scoffed when she first saw it all those months ago). now all she can do is lay there and take it, her face buried in your pillows while she moans gutturally and desperate.

you admire the way her plush ass bounces against your abdomen with every thrust, you like the way it feels when it slaps against your hips. her ass is red from your constant rough groping— which vi always pretends she hates, but you know she likes it when you give her ass attention, when you squeeze the round muscles and then deliver a hard smack to each of them.

your manicured nails lightly trace down her back, following the lines of her tattoo, making her shiver and her muscles jump. she clenches around your strap hard involuntarily, her shiny cream coating the length. you almost drool at the sight.

“r-right there, babe— ah!”

“yeah? you like it like that, vi? it’s so, mmf, deep inside you, isn’t it?”

vi moans in agreement, her nails clawing at your bedsheets. she’s so cockdrunk it’s making her dumb, making her brain turn to mush. she can hardly respond, her tongue feels heavy and numb in her mouth.

”so d-deep, ‘can feel it in my— in my throat,” vi cries out, trembling as her hole is filled to the brim.

the force of your thrusts rock the bed, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful drive of your hips. you’re fucking into vi with reckless abandon; no one has ever fucked her like this before. like they’re trying to overpower her, to consume her.

you always enjoy the sudden contrast; how vi likes to act tough and scary in public, but when she has her hole stuffed she turns into a whiny puppy. it amuses you that people assume vi is the one who fucks you, that she’s the one to turn you into a dumb slut, but in reality it’s the opposite.

(you like to tease her about it too, saying, “you gonna stuff me with your cock tonight, vi? gonna fuck my pussy?” and she flushes because she knows it’s her who will be taking your cock).

your hips piston faster and you’re fucking into vi with wild, animalistic fervor, spurred on by the desperate, needy sounds leaving her lips and the view of her ass bouncing and rippling. she can feel every ridge and vein of the strap against her walls, rubbing against all the spots that overwhelm her in the best ways possible.

“fuckk, i can’t get enough of this pussy,” you mumble distractedly, delivering multiple slaps in quick successions to both of vi’s asscheeks.

you abruptly slam inside her to the hilt and pause, the silicone balls of your strap pressed tightly against her sensitive clit. vi’s entire body shudders.

“guh!” she chokes out as you grind deeply against her. you can feel vi trembling beneath you, her skin erupting in goosebumps. her head falls back as she surrenders to the sensation.

you laugh cruelly, “you’re being so loud, vi. do you want my neighbors to hear you getting fucked? do you want them to know how much you love having your little hole filled?”

the back of vi‘s neck flushes a pretty pink. she’s suddenly acutely aware of the thin walls of your apartment, the way sound carries in close quarters. she knows you’re just teasing but she still feels embarrassed by her loudness. vi’s never been with someone so brazen before, so unapologetically attracted to everything about her; her body, her noises— so determined to make her feel good. it’s intoxicating, it’s addictive.

still, vi replies defiantly, “don’t make— ahh! don’t make fun of me.”

your hands grip vi’s waist tighter, grinding against her harder, determined to get as deep as you can. the stimulation is intense, edging on too much, as vi feels your strap pressing against her cervix while the silicone balls rub against her clit. a low, guttural moan escapes her lips.

“i was just making an observation, sweetheart,” you say, your lip caught between your teeth as you feel the strap rub against your clit. “i know you like it when i talk about your cunt, anyway.”

vi manages to have enough awareness to scoff, despite the fact that she’s drunk on the feeling of you inside her. “i don’t.”

“oh really? then why do you get louder? why does your pussy get wetter like she knows i’m talking about her?”

you stop grinding against her, in favor of pulling out to the tip and fucking your entire cock back into her.

vi grunts, “mmffuck!”

you laugh under your breath, “got nothing to say, huh? you know i’m right.”

your hands grip her waist, fingers sinking into her soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises. you piston your hips forward in one sharp thrust before setting an unbearably quick pace. the force of your thrusts make vi face-plant into your pillows, muffling her cries of pleasure.

“fuck! you’re fucking me so hard!”

every thrust rattles her bones, shaking vi to her core. her juices are leaking down her thighs, glistening in the low light. every time you pull out, sticky strings of vi’s arousal connect to your strap. the sight is obscene, it’s unbelievably erotic, and it’s a testament to just how badly vi needs to be fucked, how bad she needs her little hole filled by you, how desperately she craves the feeling of being used.

”i— i can’t take it— oh shit, baby, please—“

vi’s close, you can hear it in her voice and see it in the way her thighs tremble, needing to escape the intense pleasure.

you coo at her as your fingers find her clit, rubbing and stroking the little gem in tight, deliberate circles. vi is more sensitive on the left side of her clit, so that’s the spot you aim for.

the added stimulation is almost too much for her to bear. your fingers and strap are sending shockwaves of pleasure ricocheting through her body until she’s writhing and bucking beneath you, unable to decide if she wants more or if it’s too much for her to handle.

“come on, baby, you can do it. come on my cock— ahh— show me how much you it like when i fill you up.”

vi’s back arches, her spine bowed like a cat as her orgasm crashes through her. she sobs into your pillows, clutching onto them like a lifeline. a scream tears from her throat, raw and guttural and full of ecstasy.

vi’s pussy clamps down around your cock so hard that it’s almost difficult to move. you wish you could feel the powerful contractions of her sweet pussy when you make her come. her juices gush out around the toy, soaking your bedsheets and abdomen.

”oh god, fuck! ahhh! baby, baby!”

you don’t think you’ve ever seen vi come so hard in your life.

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