#diane post

[wolfgirltummy]

me and my foxgirl mutuals

[casualavocados]

Chen Bowen as CHEN YI & Chiang Tien as AI DI KISEKI: DEAR TO ME (2023) behind the scenes

[cryingsaltbaby]

I had fun making these

[toneelspeelster]

global superstar mother sarah nelson

heartstopper season 3 (2024)

[northboreas]

diane posting <3

[jareaufiles]

⸝⸝ FORGIVE ME, FATHER — c.novak x g!p priestess

⸝⸝ PREMISE: You took a vow of purity. A sacred life, untouched, unsullied — until Casey Novak walked into your church at midnight and made the altar her bed. She taunts your restraint with every look, every touch, and when you break, you break hard — bent over scripture, moaning her name, tasting sin like it’s salvation.

⸝⸝ WARNINGS: explicit sexual content · altar sex · religious guilt · sacrilege kink · priestess!g!p · oral sex · creampie · size kink · power imbalance · rough + emotional intimacy · semi-public setting (church) · light restraint themes · dirty talk · Casey being very smug · reader being very conflicted.

⸝⸝ WORD COUNT: 2.6K

It’s nearly midnight when you hear the heavy wooden door of the church creak open. The sound echoes through the stone hall like a whispered dare. You're standing alone at the altar, candlelight casting long, flickering shadows on the floor. The air smells like incense and wax — holy, ancient. You shouldn’t be here this late, and neither should she.

But it’s Casey.

Her heels click softly against the worn floor as she walks toward you, trench coat wrapped around her body, eyes glinting like she knows something you won’t admit out loud. She’s always like this — bold where you’re meant to be restrained, sharp where you’re taught to be soft. And lately, she’s been making it very hard to stay untouched.

You’re meant to be pure. Unclaimed. Your role, your vow, your entire life has been about denying yourself. No lovers. No release. Not even your own hand. And gods, do you try. Every night you lie in your narrow bed, staring up at the ceiling, sheets kicked off from the heat in your skin, your cock aching — swollen, heavy, rock hard — and still, you don’t give in. You clench your fists, whisper prayers into the dark, grind your hips into the mattress just enough to feel, but not enough to come. It’s torture. And it’s all because of her.

“Didn’t expect anyone to be here this late,” Casey says, her voice echoing slightly in the high ceilings. Her eyes slide over you like a caress — slow, deliberate, and far too knowing.

“I could say the same for you,” you manage, keeping your hands folded in front of you, hiding the way they’re twitching to move — to touch. She always makes you feel too much.

She tilts her head. “Couldn’t sleep. Thought maybe a little... spiritual company would help.” There’s a tease in her voice, a curl of something darker underneath. She steps closer, far too close for comfort, the scent of her perfume curling around you like a sin.

You try to retreat, but she keeps pace, casual, calm. Like a lion stalking something it knows it’s already caught. Her fingers brush your arm — an innocent touch, on the surface — but your skin burns under it. You bite the inside of your cheek, hard.

“I’ve always liked it here at night,” she muses, pretending to admire the stained glass behind you. “Quiet. Private. No one watching.”

You swallow. She knows.

She glances back at you, one eyebrow raised like she’s daring you to pretend you don’t want her. “You look tense,” she says, stepping even closer. Her hand drags down your forearm now, slow, possessive. “You should let someone help with that.”

Your breath catches. You try to focus on the altar behind her, on the candles, the icons — anything but the warmth of her body just inches away. She’s pressed to you now, her hip grazing yours, her fingers lingering on your wrist. You can feel her. The heat of her. The curve of her breasts beneath that button-down blouse she only pretends not to leave undone. The press of her thighs when she shifts her weight.

“Casey,” you rasp, voice strained. “You shouldn’t be here.”

She leans in, lips ghosting near your ear. “And yet… you haven’t stopped me.”

You can’t breathe. Your cock is already stiffening — traitorous, eager, straining beneath your robes. You silently beg your body to behave, but she’s right there, warm and wicked and real, and you’ve denied yourself so long. You’re so tired of pretending you don’t fantasize about her — her mouth wrapped around your cock, her thighs trembling under your touch, her voice cracking as she moans your name like a prayer.

“Tell me to stop,” she whispers, and her hand — her fucking hand — glides down your stomach, stopping just short of touching you where you’re hardest. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

You can’t. Your vow was never meant to withstand her. And she knows it.

Your restraint shatters with a groan, your hands grabbing her waist and pulling her into you like gravity itself gave up trying to keep you apart. Your mouth crashes against hers — hot, rough, frantic — and she responds with a low, pleased noise, like this is what she’s been waiting for all along. Her hands tangle in your hair, and you kiss her like you’ve been starving for years. In a way, you have.

“It’s wrong,” you murmur against her lips, but you don’t let go. You can’t. You’re already sliding your hand up the back of her neck, fingers gripping like you’re afraid she’ll vanish.

Casey laughs into your mouth, breathless and wicked. “Catholic guilt? Sweetheart, you’re about ten years too late for that to scare me.”

You both strip like you’ve been lit on fire — not slow, not gentle. Your hands yank open the buttons of her blouse, baring skin you’ve only dreamed of. She tugs at your robes with trembling fingers, laughing when they catch around your hips. You pull the sash loose, and the fabric falls away, pooling at your feet.

She’s bare to the waist now, her bra shoved down around her ribs, and your mouth is on her collarbone, then lower, dragging across her chest. Her nipples are stiff, flushed, and you take one between your lips, sucking just hard enough to make her whimper.

Casey’s hands roam your body like she’s mapping it — fingers skimming your chest, stomach, then down. When she wraps her hand around your cock, you almost buckle.

You’re thick and flushed dark with need, veins pulsing beneath the skin, the head already leaking precum. Her thumb teases it, spreading it, and she hums like she’s found something sacred. You gasp when her grip tightens.

“Fuck,” she breathes. “You’ve been hiding this under holy robes? That’s almost criminal.”

You open your mouth to protest, to say something, but then she’s dropping to her knees right there in front of the altar, her hands braced on your thighs, her eyes locked onto yours with that fierce, hungry look you’ve seen in every single fantasy you’ve denied yourself.

When her lips wrap around your cock, you nearly lose it.

Her mouth is hot, wet, perfect. She takes you in slowly at first, tongue swirling, one hand stroking the base. Your hands bury themselves in her hair, and you hiss through your teeth, head falling back. The way she moans around you — like she’s the one getting off — drives you insane.

She takes you deeper, inch by inch, until her nose brushes your skin and her throat flexes around you. Your knees tremble. Her hands grip your hips hard enough to bruise. You’ve imagined this moment a hundred times, but nothing compares to the reality of Casey Novak on her knees for you, worshipping you with her mouth like you’re the one she came here to pray to.

You feel the pressure coil low and tight, heat building, pleasure riding the edge of unbearable. You groan her name — a warning — but she pulls back, eyes wicked, lips slick with spit.

“No,” she pants. “Not like that. I want you to come inside me.”

She stands, pulling you with her, and as she peels off the rest of her clothes — her panties clinging, damp and ruined between her thighs — you see just how soaked she is. Her folds glisten in the candlelight, slick and inviting. She guides your hand down, and when your fingers slide against her, you both gasp.

“Feel that?” she whispers, voice rough. “That’s what you do to me.”

You grip her hips with trembling hands, guiding her back until her body presses against the edge of the altar. The stone is cool beneath her stomach, but her skin is burning. Her breath hitches as she braces herself, palms flat against the worn surface, back arching beautifully beneath your hands.

“Here?” she says, breathless. There’s a hint of disbelief in her voice, but her hips are already tilting back toward you. “You’re gonna fuck me on the altar?”

You press your body to hers, cock sliding between her thighs, not quite inside her yet. You reach up and brush her hair away from her neck before leaning in, lips grazing her ear.

“God forgive me,” you whisper. “Because I can’t stop.”

She groans at that — a needy, desperate sound — and then she’s reaching back, guiding you into her, her slick folds parting easily around the head of your cock. You both freeze for a second when you push in — just the tip, barely breaching her — because it’s so much, and you’ve waited so long.

She’s soaked. Heat pulses off her in waves, and she’s dripping, her arousal clinging to you, making it easier to slide in deeper. Inch by inch, you sink into her, gripping her hips tighter, until you’re fully seated, buried to the hilt inside her tight, wet heat. She gasps, knuckles white against the altar, and you groan like the air’s been knocked out of you.

She clenches around you, her body already trembling. “Fucking hell,” she breathes. “You feel... Jesus, you feel so good.”

You pull out slowly, almost all the way, then slam back in, hard. Her body jerks forward with the force of it, and her moan echoes off the stone walls. There’s nothing slow now. The restraint you’ve held for so long is gone, shattered like stained glass. You fuck her with everything you’ve got — hips slamming against hers, your cock sliding in and out of her soaked cunt with slick, obscene sounds.

The altar shakes beneath her. Candles flicker. Your fingers dig into her waist, then her back, then her shoulders — needing to hold her, ground yourself, own this moment.

Her cries grow higher, breathier. “Don’t stop,” she begs, voice breaking. “Fuck, don’t stop—please, please, I’m so close—”

You reach around, fingers sliding between her thighs. She���s soaked, her clit swollen and sensitive, and when you rub tight circles against it, she nearly screams.

“Come for me,” you rasp, mouth against her spine. “Let me feel it.”

She shatters around you with a loud, desperate cry — back arching, pussy clenching tight around your cock as she comes hard, shaking under you. The way she grips you, how wet and hot she is, how beautiful she sounds breaking apart in your hands — it rips the last of your control away.

You slam into her a few more times before you feel it crest — pleasure crashing through you like a tidal wave. With a guttural groan, you bury yourself deep, your hips stuttering as you spill inside her, pulse after pulse, filling her with everything you’ve held back for so long. She gasps when she feels it — warm, thick, sinful — and pushes her hips back to take every drop.

For a long moment, neither of you moves. You’re both breathing hard, skin slick with sweat, bodies trembling. Your hands stay on her waist as your forehead drops to the center of her back.

Casey finally breaks the silence, voice hoarse but smug. “Think the big guy’s gonna smite us for that?”

You laugh, dazed and wrecked. “If he is... it was worth it.”

You stay buried in her for a few more heartbeats, the warmth of her body wrapped tight around your softening cock, her breath still coming in shallow gasps. Her head’s bowed, hair clinging to her neck with sweat, but she’s smiling — that soft, wrecked kind of smile that says she’s somewhere between bliss and disbelief.

You lean in, kiss her shoulder, her neck, murmur her name. She hums in response, lazy and sated — but you’re not done. Not even close.

You slip out of her slowly, and she winces just a little at the loss. A thick, creamy mix of your cum and her arousal slides down her inner thigh, and your mouth waters at the sight.

“Lie back,” you say, voice rough, barely holding together. She turns her head to glance back at you, eyebrows lifting in mild surprise.

“Already?” she teases, but there’s no real protest in her voice.

“Not like that,” you murmur, already gripping her waist. “I want to taste you.”

Her eyes widen slightly, the corner of her mouth twitching up in a grin — and then you’re lifting her easily, strength surprising even her. She laughs breathlessly as you set her down on the altar, body loose, legs dangling off the edge. But you don’t let her relax for long. You step between her thighs, spread them open with your hands, and look at her.

She’s soaked. Puffy, flushed, glistening with slick and your cum. Her folds twitch slightly under your gaze, like her body’s still craving more — already aching for your tongue.

“Holy fuck,” she whispers, watching you. “You’re really gonna eat me out on an altar?”

You don’t answer. You just lean in, kissing her again, slow and deep and almost too tender for what you’re about to do. Her hands come up to cradle your face, pulling you closer, melting into the kiss. Then your mouth trails lower — jaw, throat, the rise of her chest.

You kiss your way down slowly, deliberately — over her collarbone, the curve of her breast, the valley between them. You take your time, sucking a nipple into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive peak until she gasps and arches into your mouth. She threads her fingers into your hair, already needy again, already aching. And you’re just getting started.

You move lower, lips tracing her ribs, her stomach. She’s trembling now, her thighs already shifting open wider as you settle between them. You hook them over your shoulders, locking her in place, and then you press your mouth to her soaked cunt like it’s the only thing on earth worth worshipping.

She cries out, hips jerking against your face, one hand flying back to grip the edge of the altar. You moan into her, tongue sliding between her folds, tasting everything. She’s warm and slick and intoxicating, your cum still thick inside her, and you lap at her like a man possessed.

You suck her clit gently, then harder, circling it with your tongue. Her moans grow higher, breathier. She’s twitching under your mouth, thighs trying to close around your head, but you hold her open, keep devouring her.

“Jesus, your mouth—” she gasps. “Fucking hell, don’t stop, please, please—”

You groan into her, and she feels it — the vibration of your mouth against her clit makes her cry out again. You fuck her with your tongue, then tease her with slow, open-mouthed kisses, pulling back just long enough to glance up at her.

She’s flushed, trembling, her lips parted, eyes dazed and hungry as they meet yours.

“Look at you,” you murmur, voice thick. “Falling apart for me.”

Then you dive back in.

You work her open with your tongue, then suck her clit again, harder this time. One of her hands clutches at your hair, the other at the altar, her whole body tensing. She’s so close — you can feel it in how she moves, how she grinds into your face now, chasing the high, moaning shamelessly.

When she comes, it’s loud and desperate — back arching, thighs clamping tight around your head, her whole body shuddering as your name spills from her lips like a prayer she never meant to say.

You stay with her through it, licking her gently, easing her down until she’s shaking with aftershocks, panting and completely wrecked.

Only when she’s finally still do you rise again, wiping your mouth, kissing her thigh.

She looks at you with half-lidded eyes, lips red and kiss-bruised, chest still heaving.

“If I knew church was gonna be like this,” she whispers hoarsely, “I’d have started coming years ago.”

You smile, dragging your thumb along the inside of her thigh.

“Don’t worry,” you murmur. “We’re just getting started.”

[zoe-oneesama]

What do you think of Diane from Miraculous.

The more I look at her and the more lines she gets the more I think she's hilarious: she's endlessly lucky in such bizarre ways (sneezing her way into dumping paint that looks like Jagged Stone???) AND has a clear clover motif? That's the shit I eat up.

But I kinda hope she just stays a background gag character, the cast is already bloated enough. I wonder what kind of akuma she'd be though.

[surrexi]

shoutout to @dduane for posting about the science behind how a spoonful of sugar stops hiccups in their tracks because i had somehow convinced myself that i had overestimated the effectiveness of said hiccup cure as a child but i just got some bad hiccups and, reassured that it's a real cure, i ate a spoonful of sugar and it stopped them so immediately i almost feel like i imagined having them in the first place lol

[daddynovck]

Heat Between The Lines

casey novak x female reader

warnings: lottt of smut, strap-on, dom!casey

(also wrote this reallyyy drunk so id apologise but this for some reason is one of my best works? lolll anyway enjoy!)

(just wanna give the biggest creds ever EVER to @jareaufiles who helped me write this!! ily<3)

the apartment was quiet, casey had the night off and you’d just came home. you walked in to her on couch in a long pink silk robe, her hair tied up in a tight bun and her glasses resting against the top of her head holding her hair back from her face.

you walked into the living room, and she looked up from the book she was reading. “hi sweetheart, how was work?” she said quietly, shutting the book and taking her glasses off her head sitting them both down on the coffee table.

you walked over to her and sighed, “i don’t wanna talk about it, rough case.”

“that’s okay we don’t need to.” she patted her lap for you to rest your head on. and you did just that.

“what’s been on your mind, honey?” her fingers brushing through your hair softly.

“…just need a distraction, that okay?” you titled you head up a little to look at her

“of course it’s okay, you know distraction is my specialty….” she teases gently, trying to lighten the mood

you let out a small sigh, finally starting to relax under her touch.

casey continues to run her fingers through your hair, her touch gentle and soothing. she watches you for a moment, seeing the tension slowly melt away.

after a few moments of silence she finally decides to speak up again, her voice soft.

“hey….” she says gently

you open your eyes, looking up at her your expression a bit weary “hmm?”

“so…about that distraction….” she says, her voice still soft

“can i try something? i just need you to sit back for me…” she asks

you slowly sit up from her lap and sit back on the couch for her

she speaks quietly still, her eyes now roaming over you. she takes another breath, her confidence returning fully now. “can you take off your shirt for me, darling?”

your lips part slightly, a small shiver running down your spine at the command. you hesitate for a second, the thought of this “experiment” she suggested a while ago finally coming into place, yet still a bit of mystery. you study casey’s face, the vulnerability there as well as the glimmer of need that’s always just underneath the surface when it comes to you. you nod, letting her know you’ll do it.

her heart skips a beat at your nod, her small smirk turning into a more genuine smile. she watches as you take off your shirt, her eyes taking over your exposed skin and memorising every inch.

she’s still leaning over you now, her eyes burning into yours as you set the shirt down. she studies you for a moment longer, letting the anticipation build. “youre so beautiful….” she mumbles, her voice dripping with anticipation.

“should we uh….take this to the bedroom?” you ask her, tilting your head to the side slightly.

she nods slowly, and takes your hand, leading you slowly to the bedroom.

casey’s grip on your hand firm, but needless still lingering beneath the surface. she leads you to the bedroom, her eyes never leaving yours.

as you as you’re inside, she closes the door behind you, the sound echoing through the otherwise quiet apartment.

her eyes continue to roam over your body, every inch of skin still on fire. she takes a step towards you, her hand coming up to gently cup your chin.

“sit on the bed for me baby…” she commands, still a hint of vulnerability in her voice as she speaks, almost as if she’s not exactly sure how you’ll react.

you obey her request, walking over to the bed and sitting down on the edge, you watch her every move, the anticipation building with each passing second. she’s still standing, her eyes fixed on you, a small smirk playing onto her lips.

she takes a small breath, her heart beating faster in her chest. she steps closer, her hand now coming up to gently cup your chin again.

“don’t move.” she whispers her voice lower than usual, yet still raspy. she holds still for a moment before she sits down beside you gesturing you to sit on her lap, now straddling her.

you settle onto her lap, your knees on either side of her as she looks you in the eyes. your heart is racing, the neediness from earlier building up even more. you let out a small sigh, her fingers gently tracing up sand down your jawline to your neck.

“you’re being so good for me darling…” she purrs, her thumb tracing over your collarbone.

she taps your thigh twice to stand up for her.

“where are you going?” you asked

she walks over to your closet in your shared bedroom, and takes out the box of toys, your eyes open wide and your breath hitches as you see her open the box of toys, your heart rate already speeding up in anticipation. casey walks back over to stand in front of you, a small, teasing smile on her lips as she looks at you.

“let’s play..” she says, her head tilting to the side as she looks you up and down. she sets the box down next to you as she continues to look down at you. she’s now standing in between your legs, her eyes locked onto yours. she can feel herself getting more and more worked up with each passing second, the feeling of being in control only adding to the excitement

“do you trust me?” she asks again, her voice low but still holding the usual confidence. there’s a hint uncertainty in her eyes though - she’s stepping out of her comfort zone here, and she wants to to make sure you’re on the same page.

“yes….god yes.” you say

casey lets out at laugh at that as her eyes wander over you again, her finger still tracing over your lip. she hesitates for a second before continuing.

“can you strip for me, sweetheart?” her breathing is a bit quicker now, she lets your chin go so she can lean back a little, giving you space.

you begin to take off your clothes until your completely bare beneath her. her breath hitches slightly as she watches you, her heart racing at the sight of you. she can’t help the small shiver that runs down her spine, the combinations of vulnerability and excitement making her head spin. she takes a small step closer to you, her eyes roaming over you.

“god, you’re beautiful….” she mumbles, her voice barely above a whisper as she reaches out to gently touch your skin.

“take this off…” you gesture towards her robe.

“no…no touching, not until i say, understood?” she says, her voice firm and authoritative.

“sit down on the bed for me baby.” she orders, her voice still quiet.

you do as she says, sitting down on the bed, casey watches you for a moment, her mind racing with possibilities. she takes another step closer to you, now standing directly in front of you.

“good girl.” she whispers, her eyes roaming over your naked figure again.

“now….im going to need you to close your eyes and lie down for me, okay? it’ll just take a second.” she asks, her voice still dripping with desire as she takes a step back from the bed and goes towards the dresser. the silk robe hangs loose on her shoulders, a glimpse of her bare skin, the sharp cut of her collarbones, the smooth curves of her breasts catching your eye. you obey her instantly, sprawling on the bed for her, your thighs already spread, your slick cunt glistening in the soft, low light of your shared bedroom.

casey lets her eyes slowly drag over your body, lingering on the way your folds glisten, puffy and soaked, a mess between your legs and she hasn’t even touched you yet. she chuckles under her breath, pulling open the drawer and lifting out the harness and thick, pretty pastel pink strap, the silicone cock heavy in her hand. your breath catches as she strokes a hand down the length of it, her smirk sharp, knowing.

“look at that pussy.” she murmurs, her eyes flicking up to meet yours, her voice dropping into a tone that makes your stomach clench. “dripping for me, and i haven’t even gotten this inside you yet. fucking pathetic.”

you moan, your hips rolling helplessly against the sheets, desperate for any kind or friction. casey laughs again, this time cruel and all at once, as she drops the robe from her shoulders, letting it puddle at her feet. she’s gloriously naked, skin flushed, her nipples tight, and she takes her time buckling the harness into place around her hips. the thick strap juts out proudly, already slick with lube, and you watch as she adjusts it, tugging the tight straps tight.

as she moves, the base of the cock presses against her clit, and she lets out a low, needy groan, her eyelids fluttering for just a second before she snaps her gaze back to you. “mmm, fuck. gonna get myself off on this whilst i ruin you, sweetheart.”

she struts over to the bed, the cock bouncing slightly with each step she took, and your mouth waters at the sight of it — thick, veiny and so obscenely big it makes your cunt clench around nothing. casey kneels on the bed in front of you between your legs, letting the head of the strap run through your soaked folds, gathering your slick teasing your clit until you’re whimpering and arching up into it.

“you want it?” she asks, voice low, one brow raised. she pushes the head of the cock just barely inside, the stretch making your mouth drop open.

“y-yes— please casey, fuck me—“

“beg prettier than that, baby.” she growls, rolling her hips so the base of the strap grinds deliciously against her clit, making her groan again. “i’m not giving you this cock ‘til you earn it.”

your pussy throbs, a slick, messy ache between your legs and you’d say anything to have her inside you. watching her get off whilst she fucks you is enough to make your entire body burn. and she knows it too.

your voices shakes as you try, desperate and breathless, the words tumbling out in a needy, wrecked mess. “please, casey— please fuck me with your cock, i need it, i’ll be so good for you, i promise—just please, im so wet for you, it hurts.”

her smirk deepens, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes like she own every part of you—because she does. she watches the way your pussy clenches around nothing. slick and puffy aching for her, the lips glistening, your clit swollen and twitching with every teasing pass of the strap. she groans again, shifting her hips so the fat base of the cock grinds against her clit. the harness pressing snug against her slick folds, the friction making her shudder.

“mmm, there’s my good girl.” she murmurs, leaning over you, one hand braced beside your head, the other gripping the base of the strap as she starts to push it inside. the stretch is instant, thick and overwhelming. dragging a wrecked moan from your throat as your cunt parts around the thick, slick head. “you feel that, baby? so fucking tight, so wet, this pussy was made for me.”

your back arches, fingers scrabbling at the sheets as she sinks deeper, inch by inch, the drag of the cock against your walls making your head spin. it’s obscene how wet you are — the sound of it, your slick coating the strap, slicking to the harness, dripping onto her thighs. casey’s teeth graze your ear as she thrusts in the last inch, bottoming out, the base grinding against her clit, and she groans, low and filthy.

“god, i can feel you clenching around it,” she hisses, rolling her hips slowly, letting you adjust to the thick stretch whilst her own pleasure mounts from pressure against her clit. “fucking soaking me already, sweetheart. what a cock-drunk little slut.”

you whimper, pleasure sparking sharp and hot through you as she starts to move, slow at first, the thick cock dragging along every nerve inside you. your tits bounce with every roll of her hips, nipples tight, body trembling casey watches every reaction, one hand grabbing your jaw, forcing you to look at her.

“eyes on me,” she snaps “you’re gonna watch me while i ruin this needy little cunt.”

and then she starts to fuck you in earnest— hard, deep, relentless. the thick strap pounding into you, the base grinding against her clit with with every thrust, drawing low, guttural moans from her throat as she uses you. your slick coats the cock, the sheets beneath you. your pussy clenching around it so tight you swear you’re about to loose your mind.

“gonna cum so fucking hard, baby.” casey groans her voice wrecked with pleasure, sweat-slick hair falling into her face as she drives into you. “i’m gonna grind this cock against my clit whilst i fill you up, and you’re gonna beg me to never stop, aren’t you?”

and you will — because there’s no world where you’d ever want her to stop.

the pressure in your belly snaps so fast you barely have time to gasp before it’s happening; your pussy clenches down around the thick strap, so tight it makes a filthy, wet sound as casey drives it deep one last time. your legs shake, thighs trembling violently, and a hot rush of slick gushes out around the cock, soaking the harness and casey’s hips. you cry out, voice breaking on her name, the sound raw and needy, as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through you, your body seizing up under her. casey groans low, grinding her hips down, the base of the strap pressing hard against her clit, chasing her own orgasm against your soaked cunt. “fuck, yeah, baby… cum on my cock. look at this pussy… soaking me like a good fucking whore.”

you think you can take more, baby?” casey’s voice is a low, gravelly growl against your ear, sweat-slick strands of hair sticking to her neck as she grinds the strap deep into your overstimulated, aching pussy. the cock’s still thick and slick from how wrecked you already are, your inner thighs a shiny, messy disaster. you nod weakly, your voice a broken whimper, desperate for her to fill you up again.

she grabs your jaw, forces you to look up at her. “use your words, sweetheart.”

“y-yes, casey,” you pant, body still twitching from the last orgasm. “i can take it… i need it, please.”

casey grins, something dangerous and filthy lighting up in her eyes. “good girl. on the floor. now.”

your stomach flips as she guides you off the bed by your wrist, her grip firm but not cruel, dragging you down onto the cool floorboards. the contrast against your hot skin makes you shudder. she nudges your thighs apart with her knee, and before you can even fully settle, she hooks your ankles in her hands and pushes your legs up into the air, folding you open, cunt glistening and exposed.

“mmm, fuck… look at that messy pussy,” she groans, eyes dragging over the swollen, wet lips, your clit already twitching, folds slick and puffy. “gonna ruin you in this position, baby. gonna fuck you so deep you’ll feel me for days.”

the new angle makes your stomach clench in anticipation. you’ve never taken her like this before — folded up, legs pinned in her hands, her standing over you with that thick strap already lined up against your entrance. the base of the harness presses tight against her clit as she shifts her hips, making her hiss through her teeth.

she slides the cock through your folds, collecting slick, before pushing in with one smooth, hard thrust. the stretch feels deeper, thicker, the angle letting the fat head of the cock drag against your front wall in a way that makes your toes curl. your mouth drops open in a wrecked, desperate moan.

“oh my—fuck, casey—”

“yeah, you feel that?” she growls, voice ragged, hips slamming forward, making your tits bounce with every brutal thrust. “takes cock so fucking good, sweetheart. look at how messy you are for me.”

every thrust pounds deep, the thick silicone cock splitting you open, slick noises filling the room as your pussy clutches desperately around it. the base grinds against her clit with every snap of her hips, her breath coming faster, a flushed, wrecked look on her face as she chases her own release.

“god… this pussy’s fucking perfect,” casey snarls, leaning over, one hand still pinning your legs back as she pistons her hips, the harness base mashing against her swollen, needy clit. “you’re gonna make me cum, baby… gonna cum all over this cock while you cream around it. just like this.”

you can feel your orgasm winding tight again, the pressure building deep in your belly, that thick cock hitting your sweet spot perfectly in this position. your moans get higher, breathier, your body a trembling, oversensitive mess.

and then you snap — your pussy clamps down around the strap so hard it makes a filthy, wet squelch, your slick gushing out around the thick length, dripping down to the floor. your body jerks, legs trembling in her grip, a loud, wrecked sob of her name falling from your lips.

casey lets out a strangled moan as the harness base grinds hard against her clit one last time, the pressure and friction too much, sending her over. her hips stutter, a desperate, needy growl in her throat as her body tightens, the orgasm crashing through her in hot waves, her cunt slick and throbbing against the harness straps.

“fuck, fuck—yes, baby… fuck,” she groans, keeping herself pressed against you, riding it out, her body trembling as she grinds her soaked clit down. the sound of your slick, her breathless moans, your wrecked cries fill the room.

neither of you moves for a long, filthy moment — your pussy fluttering around the strap still buried deep, casey’s catching her breath, her hands still tight around your trembling legs.

and she grins down at you, cock still inside, voice thick and fucked-out as she murmurs, “you’re mine, sweetheart. every inch of this messy little cunt belongs to me.”

the room’s still thick with the scent of sweat and sex, the air warm and heavy, your body boneless and trembling on the floor where casey left you folded up and wrecked. your chest rises and falls in shallow, uneven breaths, thighs sticky with slick, the thick cock still buried inside you, though casey’s hips have stilled. Her grip on your legs loosens, and she lets them down gently, careful not to drop them too fast, cradling your calves in her palms like you’re something fragile now.

“hey… easy, baby,” casey murmurs, her voice low and rough from moaning, but softened in a way it never is when she’s in control. she pulls out slowly, the cock leaving your swollen, oversensitive cunt with a wet, obscene noise that makes you whimper, more from sensitivity than pain.

“shhh, shh, you did so good for me,” she soothes immediately, leaning down to press a kiss to your sweaty temple, one hand moving to stroke your hair back from your face. Her fingers feel cool against your flushed skin. “I’ve got you now.”

casey unbuckles the harness and tosses it aside without a second glance, her focus entirely on you. she brushes her thumb over your cheek, frowning slightly at the way you’re still shaking, your breathing hitched.

“c’mere, baby. let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” she murmurs, and she doesn’t ask — she just gathers you up into her arms like you weigh nothing, carrying you carefully to the bathroom. the ache in your thighs and pussy makes you wince a little, and she notices immediately, her grip adjusting, murmuring quiet apologies against your hair.

she sets you down on the edge of the tub, grabbing a soft washcloth, running it under warm water. you watch her through hazy eyes, your heart tugging at how different she looks now — hair damp with sweat, cheeks flushed, but her gaze is gentle, fond even. she kneels in front of you, parting your legs with a careful touch.

“this might sting a little, sweetheart,” she warns quietly, her voice like silk. and it does, a little, as she gently wipes the mess from between your thighs, cleaning away your slick and the wet sheen clinging to your skin. but her touch is so tender you almost melt into it, sighing softly.

“good girl,” she praises under her breath as she works, like you’re something precious. “took me so good… made me feel so fucking good too.”

once you’re clean, she stands and runs a warm bath, pouring in some lavender oil from the little bottle you always keep by the tub. the room fills with the calming scent almost instantly. she helps you in, settling you back against her chest when she slips in behind you, her arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you close.

you let out a soft, contented sigh as the warmth soothes your aching muscles, your head falling back onto her shoulder.

“better?” she asks, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“mmm,” you hum, turning your face into her neck. “love you.”

casey stills for half a second, then her arms tighten around you, another kiss pressed to your temple. “i love you too, baby. so fucking much.”

the two of you stay like that until the water starts to cool; casey’s fingertips idly tracing lazy circles on your belly, her cheek resting against your damp hair, your breathing finally slow and even.

and when she finally carries you back to bed, slipping a hoodie over your head and kissing the top of it once you’re dressed, she pulls you in close and whispers, “mine,” one last time before you fall asleep in her arms.

[booigi-boi]

Richpez wedding anniversary drawing ✨🐶

Can't believe it's been a year since the world's first wedding

[babyboyhotchner]

PRINCESS ⋆ CASEY NOVAK

YOUR HONOR, MY PRINCESS

description: casey loves calling you her princess. pairing: casey x fem!reader. wc: 3.8

The first time you met Casey Novak, it was in a courtroom - two opposing forces, both relentless, both unwilling to back down.

You had walked in late, not because you were unprepared, far from it - but because you understood the power of an entrance. The soft click of your designer stilettos echoed against the marble floors, drawing more than a few glances from the jury and even the judge. You were dressed in a blush-coloured, curve-hugging dress, the kind that some might have called inappropriate for a courtroom setting. But you knew better. It wasn’t just fabric - it was armour, a weapon, a carefully calculated statement.

Casey had looked up from her neatly organized legal pad, her emerald eyes narrowing slightly as she assessed you. She was the very picture of discipline, clad in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, her auburn hair pinned back in a way that was both practical and devastatingly elegant. There was no reaction on her face, no raised brow or flicker of amusement - just sharp, professional scrutiny. And then, just for a second, something else. A flicker of intrigue, perhaps, before she quickly masked it with her usual stoic expression.

“Your Honor,” you said smoothly as you reached the plaintiff’s table, sliding into your chair with effortless grace. “Apologies for the delay. Traffic was murder.”

Judge Petrov barely spared you a glance over his reading glasses. He had seen your theatrics before. “Cut the dramatics, counsel. Proceed.”

From the defense table, Casey let out a barely audible scoff. “Glad to see your priorities are in order,” she murmured just loud enough for you to hear, eyes still fixed on her notes.

You turned your head slightly, a slow smirk creeping onto your lips. “Why, Casey, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were jealous of my grand entrance.”

She didn’t even look at you. “I’m just wondering if you plan to present a legal argument at any point today, or if we should just sit back and enjoy the performance.”

Oh, she was good.

The courtroom quickly became your battleground.

Casey was calculated and methodical, every argument laid out with impeccable logic and precision. She wielded legal precedent like a scalpel, dissecting opposing arguments with brutal efficiency. There was no room for theatrics in her world - only the unshakable foundation of the law.

You, on the other hand, thrived in the unpredictable. You spoke to the jury like they were old friends, weaving emotion and narrative into your arguments in a way that made them forget they were even listening to a legal proceeding. Where Casey relied on hard facts, you built stories, turning cases into living, breathing things.

“You can’t seriously expect the court to entertain this,” Casey said one afternoon, irritation evident in the slight crease between her brows. The case was a heated one, and you had just made a rather unexpected move, throwing in an argument that wasn’t in any of your filings.

“Why not?” You tilted your head, the picture of innocence. “Afraid they might agree with me?”

She let out a slow exhale, her lips pressing together in a way that told you she was trying very hard not to lose her temper. “I’m afraid they might mistake your performance for substance.”

You feigned a wounded expression, placing a delicate hand over your chest. “Ouch, counselor. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to hurt my feelings.”

The judge cleared his throat, clearly unimpressed with your back-and-forth, but the jury? They were eating it up. And, if you weren’t mistaken, so was Casey - whether she wanted to admit it or not.

Outside the courtroom, the tension only grew stronger.

Your paths crossed constantly—at depositions, in courthouse hallways, at late-night coffee shops where you both stopped to refuel after hours of casework. At first, your conversations were all barbed wire and sharp edges, each of you poking at the other’s weak spots, testing limits. But slowly, something shifted. The teasing became less about cutting each other down and more about… something else.

One evening, after a particularly brutal case, you found yourselves alone in the courthouse hallway. The trial had been grueling, and though Casey had technically won, you had made her fight for every inch.

“You fought hard today,” she admitted, surprising you.

You turned to her, watching as she leaned back against the cold marble wall, arms crossed but not in a defensive way. She looked tired, her usual perfectly polished demeanor slightly frayed at the edges.

“Well, I had to give you a challenge,” you said, offering her a small smirk. “Wouldn’t want you getting bored.”

She exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “You’re exhausting.”

“Yet you keep showing up.”

Casey glanced at you then, her green eyes lingering just a little too long. Something unspoken passed between you, something charged and dangerous and completely inevitable.

She looked like she wanted to say something else, but instead, she just sighed, pushing herself off the wall. “Don’t stay too late,” she murmured before walking away.

But you both knew that wasn’t the end of it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The room felt suffocating with heat, the heavy scent of leather-bound law books and aged whiskey mixing with the intoxicating aroma of her presence. The golden glow from her desk lamp cast long shadows, emphasizing the sharp angles of Casey’s face, the way her lips curled in that dangerous smirk.

"You really shouldn’t look at me like that," she murmured, her voice low, warning-laced, but still with that signature authority. She leaned back against the desk, arms crossed, her loosened tie hanging carelessly, enticingly, around her neck.

"Like what?" You took a step closer, smirking, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. The subtle, yet unmistakable scent of your perfume curled around both of you, only amplifying the growing heat.

"Like you want something from me."

Your fingers brushed over the edge of her tie, trailing deliberately down its length. "And if I do?"

Her breath caught for just a moment. You saw it in the way her eyes narrowed, how the composure she worked so hard to maintain cracked just a little, revealing the smouldering hunger beneath.

Casey’s voice dropped, thick and rough. "You’re such a goddamn tease." Her grip tightened on your wrist - not rough, but firm - holding you in place. Her thumb ran circles against your pulse, each movement sending a shockwave of heat through your body.

"You like it," you whispered, eyes locking onto hers.

A wicked chuckle escaped her lips, low and dark, and she pulled you in closer, her body just a breath away from yours.

"I fucking love it," she confessed, the words rougher now, heavy with need. There was no distance anymore between you, only heat, the kind that burned, the kind that could never be sated by anything but each other.

"But you’re not in control here, Princess."

The nickname fell from her lips like a challenge, a command - a reminder.

Her hands slid down your dress, slow and deliberate, as if to savor the fabric beneath her fingertips, as if she wanted to leave a mark, to claim you.

"You wear this just to drive me insane, don’t you?" Her voice was barely a whisper against your ear. "Wearing my favorite color, knowing exactly how to make me lose control."

The air around you felt charged, every word heavy, every gesture deliberate. The tension that had been building between you for months was finally snapping.

"You should have better self-control," you teased, but your voice betrayed you - thin, breathless, caught in the web of her pull.

Casey’s smirk was dark, knowing. "Oh, sweetheart. You’re the one who’s going to be begging me soon."

Her hands gripped your hips, pulling you hard against her, the edge of the desk digging into your thighs as she closed the remaining space between you, her thigh pressing firmly between yours.

"I’ve been patient for months," she growled, her voice a low rasp as her lips brushed against your ear. "Watching you parade around, flaunting yourself, taunting me in front of everyone." Her breath was hot against your skin. "Flirting with me in front of the whole damn courtroom, just to see if I’d crack."

Her grip on your throat was sudden, firm, but not enough to choke, just enough to remind you of her power.

You gasped, the weight of her touch sending a thrill racing through your veins.

"Guess what, Princess?" she murmured, her lips hovering just over your ear. "You win."

And then, suddenly, urgently, her lips crashed into yours. There was nothing soft about it. Her kiss was a demand, taking everything from you, claiming you, pulling you deeper and deeper under her spell. Her teeth grazed your lips, nipping, pulling, urging you to respond, to surrender, to melt.

And you did.

You didn’t just kiss her back - you submitted.

When she pulled back, there was a brief moment of clarity. Her eyes were molten with desire, a cruel, predatory hunger dancing in the depths. Her fingers found your jaw, tilting your face up, forcing you to look at her.

Her thumb brushed over your lips, her gaze locking with yours.

"Pathetic," she muttered under her breath, a slight shake of her head as she looked down at you.

Before you could react, she gripped your chin, forcing your mouth open with surprising force. Your pulse quickened, heart hammering in your chest, breath caught in your throat. You stared at her, wide-eyed, and before you could fully comprehend what was happening, she leaned in - slowly, deliberately - and spit into your waiting mouth.

It was warm, slick, and thick, a tangible mark of her ownership, her control over you.

For a heartbeat, you froze.

Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she waited, her grip still tight on your jaw, forcing you to swallow.

"Swallow," she commanded, the word sharp, final.

You obeyed.

A thrill ran through you as the taste lingered in your mouth, a reminder of who you were with. Who you belonged to.

"Good girl," Casey murmured, her voice low and rough as she leaned in to kiss you again - this time softer, slower, savouring the moment. But there was nothing gentle in it. It was a reminder, a claim, marking you as hers.

You were breathless, your knees weak beneath you. The sensation of her lips on yours was dizzying, overwhelming.

Her voice dropped even lower, the words curling in your mind, leaving an imprint.

"By the time I’m done with you, you won’t remember how to stand, let alone how to breathe."

Her fingers slid back to your throat, pressing, not hard enough to crush, but enough to make your pulse flutter, enough to steal your breath.

"You’re mine now, Princess."

And you knew, deep down, that tonight - Casey Novak would ruin you.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The drive to her penthouse was suffocating in its silence, every second dragging out in unbearable tension. The atmosphere in the car was thick with unspoken words, heated glances, and the lingering electricity of what had happened in her office earlier. You could still feel the imprint of her touch on your skin, the way her voice had dropped low and dangerous as she’d leaned in close, her presence leaving you breathless. Now, as you sat beside her, the soft fabric of your dress brushing against your thighs, you couldn’t stop the restless movement of your fingers in your lap. Each stolen glance at her - the tight set of her jaw, the way her knuckles whitened against the steering wheel - only made the ache between your legs worse.

When she finally pulled into the parking garage, the tension between you was palpable, like a coiled spring ready to snap. She didn’t say a word as she stepped out of the car, her heels clicking sharply against the concrete floor. You followed her lead, your heart hammering in your chest as you hurried to keep up with her determined strides. The elevator ride to her penthouse was no better, the enclosed space amplifying every subtle shift in her stance. You could feel her heat, her restrained power, as she stood beside you, her lips pressed into a thin line.

By the time you stepped inside her penthouse, the heavy click of the door shutting felt like the finality of a lock snapping into place. The second the sound echoed through the space, she turned to you, her eyes blazing with intensity. Her lips were on yours in an instant, her kiss hot, demanding, and utterly consuming. There was nothing soft about it - her teeth tugged at your bottom lip, her tongue invading your mouth with a ferocity that left you gasping. Her hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against her, the cool leather of her jacket pressing against your arms as her knee slid between your legs. The pressure against your core was enough to make you whimper, the sound swallowed by her relentless kiss.

When she finally pulled back, her lips were red and swollen, her breath coming in heavy pants. Her hands didn’t loosen their hold on you, her nails digging into your skin just hard enough to send a delicious shiver down your spine. “You’ve been teasing me all fucking night,” she growled, her voice low and dangerous, each word vibrating against your lips. “That little dress, the way you crossed your legs in front of me like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing. But it’s over now. You’re mine.”

Her grip on your wrist was firm as she led you toward the bedroom, the pace of her steps leaving no room for hesitation. The fabric of your dress brushed against your thighs as you stumbled after her, your heels clicking against the hardwood floor. You barely had time to take in the room - the sleek lines of the furniture, the muted tones of the décor—before she spun you around, her hands gripping your shoulders as she backed you up against the wall.

“Strip,” she ordered, her voice slicing through the charged silence like a whip.

You hesitated for a fraction of a second, caught off guard by the raw authority in her tone. But the look in her eyes - sharp and unyielding - left no room for defiance. Your fingers moved to the zipper at the back of your dress, the soft hiss of the fabric splitting filling the room. The dress slipped from your shoulders and pooled at your feet, leaving you in nothing but the lace panties and heels you’d chosen that morning without realizing just how much they’d matter now.

“Faster,” she snapped, her gaze fixed on you like a predator sizing up its prey. “I don’t have all night.”

You hurried to obey, kicking off your heels and peeling the delicate lace down your legs until you were completely bare before her. The weight of her stare was almost unbearable, her eyes raking over you with a hunger that made your skin burn.

“Good girl,” she murmured finally, a slow, predatory smile curling her lips. “So fucking perfect. But not nearly perfect enough. You’ll look better covered in my marks.”

Before you could respond, she was on you again, her hand gripping your chin and tilting your head back to meet her gaze. “You don’t speak unless I tell you to,” she said, her voice a low growl. “Understand?”

“Yes, Casey,” you whispered, the words trembling on your lips.

Her smirk widened, and she leaned in closer, her breath hot against your ear. “That’s what I like to hear.”

She pushed you back toward the bed with an unrelenting force, her hands rough and purposeful. When the backs of your knees hit the mattress, she shoved you down, her strength undeniable.

“Lie back,” she commanded, her voice brooking no argument. “Hands above your head.”

Your heart pounded as you complied, your body trembling with anticipation as you stretched out beneath her. The cool air brushed against your skin, making every nerve ending come alive.

She climbed onto the bed, her knees bracketing your hips, her hands gripping your wrists and pinning them above your head. The weight of her body against yours was intoxicating, her power undeniable as she leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear.

“You don’t get to decide anything tonight,” she whispered, her voice a dark promise. “Not how hard, not how fast. You’ll take whatever I give you, and you’ll fucking love it.”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, your body arching beneath her as her hands trailed down your arms and over your chest. When her fingers reached your throat, she wrapped them around it, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch. The sensation was heady, the mix of pleasure and control making your pulse race.

“You like this,” she murmured, her lips ghosting over your jaw. “Being at my mercy. Knowing you’re completely mine.”

Her hand slid lower, her nails dragging over your skin and leaving faint red trails in their wake. When her fingers finally slipped between your thighs, you gasped, your hips bucking involuntarily against her touch.

“Pathetic,” she sneered, her voice laced with mockery. “So fucking desperate. You’ll beg for it, won’t you?”

“Yes, Casey,” you moaned, your voice barely audible as she pressed her fingers against your slick heat.

Her smirk widened, and she leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “Good. Now, let’s see how much you can take.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Casey’s fingers slid between your thighs, unapologetically exploring the wet heat there, her touch firm and unrelenting. She didn’t hesitate, parting your folds with an ease that had your back arching off the bed. Her lips curled into a smug smile as she felt how soaked you were, the evidence of your need coating her fingertips.

"Look at you," she murmured, her voice dripping with condescension. "So fucking wet already, and I’ve barely touched you. You’re practically begging for me to ruin you."

You whimpered, your legs trembling as she pressed her fingers deeper, teasing your entrance but not giving you the satisfaction of her full touch. She was deliberate, controlled, and maddeningly slow, her fingers circling your clit with just enough pressure to make your hips jerk, but not enough to send you over the edge.

"You’re such a needy little slut," she growled, her free hand sliding up your body to cup your breast, her thumb brushing over your hardened nipple. "I bet you’ve been dripping for me since the moment I told you to strip. Haven’t you?"

"Yes," you gasped, your voice shaking as her teeth grazed your neck, biting down just hard enough to make you cry out.

"That’s right," she hissed against your skin, her lips pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your throat. "You fucking love being at my mercy. You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?"

"Yes, Casey," you moaned, your voice breaking as she slid a single finger inside you, the intrusion making your breath hitch.

"God, you’re so tight," she muttered, her tone rough with desire. "I could fuck you with my fingers all night and still never get enough of the way you squeeze me."

Her pace quickened, her finger pumping into you with an unrelenting rhythm, curling just right to hit that spot inside you that made your vision blur. When she added a second finger, you couldn’t stop the shameless moan that tore from your throat, your body writhing beneath her as she fucked you deeper.

"That’s it," she purred, her thumb pressing against your clit in perfect tandem with her thrusts. "Take it like the good little whore you are. Don’t you dare hold back - I want to hear every filthy sound that comes out of your mouth."

Your head fell back against the mattress, your hands still pinned above you as she worked you with ruthless precision. Her mouth was everywhere - biting, licking, sucking - leaving marks in her wake that you knew would linger for days.

"Look at you," she sneered, her voice filled with mockery as she pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. "So fucking desperate for me. You’re a mess, you know that? Pathetic and perfect, all at the same time."

Her free hand gripped your jaw, forcing you to look at her as she increased the pace of her fingers, the slick sounds of her movements filling the room. "You’re mine," she growled, her breath hot against your lips. "Every inch of you. Your body, your mind, your fucking soul - every part of you belongs to me now."

Her words sent you hurtling toward the edge, your body trembling as the pressure built inside you, threatening to break. You could barely think, barely breathe, every nerve ending focused on her and the way she was unraveling you piece by piece.

But just as you felt yourself tip over the edge, her hand stilled, her fingers pulling out of you entirely.

You whimpered in protest, your hips bucking in search of relief, but she only smirked, shaking her head. "Oh no, Princess," she said, her tone dangerously low. "You don’t get to come until I say so. Beg for it."

"Please," you gasped, your voice desperate as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. "Please, Casey, I need it."

She laughed, a dark, wicked sound that sent a fresh wave of arousal through you. "That’s not good enough," she said, leaning down to press her lips to your ear. "I want to hear you beg like the filthy little slut you are. Tell me how badly you need me to make you come."

"Please, Casey," you whimpered, your voice breaking as you looked up at her, your cheeks flushed and your chest heaving. "I need it. I need you to fuck me, to make me come. Please, I’ll do anything."

Her smirk widened, her teeth flashing as she leaned in closer, her breath ghosting over your lips. "That’s better," she murmured, her fingers slipping between your thighs once more, this time with an unrelenting intensity that had you crying out.

"Now, be a good girl and come for me," she commanded, her tone laced with dark satisfaction as her fingers worked you with ruthless precision.

And when you finally shattered beneath her touch, she didn’t let up, her hands and mouth dragging you through wave after wave of pleasure until you were trembling and utterly wrecked beneath her.

"You belong to me," she whispered against your skin, her voice a dark, possessive promise. "And I’ll make damn sure you never forget it."

[lakesparkles]

Part 2 of this crossover

They're so different but they have the same energy to me.

[supremefloof]

episode 6 thoughts: DANG

Shang Chao is one of the characters of all time. spoilers below! this post is also very long.

THESE DANG ENERGY DRINKS ARE IMPORTANT! This shot is symbolic of something!

these could be "Electro Energy" brand drinks (the brand mentioned later to show how Yang Cheng E-soul is costing money for Mighty Glory).

Is that a "no. 8" or a "no. 0"? 8 would make sense but there's problems with that, those being -> 1. is E-soul still rank number eight here? and 2.:

the trailer shows that this drink belongs to X, with the character presumably meaning 1,0, or some really sadistic way of writing X. (secret, even more sadistic evil third thing is that that's like, a three or something and the timeline is fucked). the drink NEXT to it belongs to E-soul (maybe those are electro energy). So, maybe this drink means that E-soul is X in Year 36. ofc, we have no idea what time this trailer takes place.

it looks like this stupid extremely hard to read borderline secret code font (/hj) is going to be a frequent occurrence! hopefully somebody with more dedication than me can decode it fully at some point.

background ads continue to be very intriguing. where exactly does this take place? we got "langley & co booksellers", "malibu surf shop", alongside chinese signs. probably a lot are just easter eggs but very fun!

In the interrogation room, I really interpreted YC's animated flashback sequence as a panic attack.

he's stuck on two ends from "nothing" to "way too much". He doesn't feel he belongs on either, and yet he's self-internalized a bunch of stuff at the same time. he's like lin ling on trauma steroids.

I like Xia Qing (i think thats her name?) better than I thought I would. girl knows what she wants and drops hints! she's also the most normal well adjusted person I've seen in this entire show.

i really, genuinely for the love of god hope those criminals weren't telling the truth about YC hiring them. If time travel theory is real I'm flipping a table. I dislike time travel theory but I can't put my finger on why.

SHANG CHAO IS SO SUSPICIOUS. even including what happens to him he shows up at exactly the right time with exactly the right stuff. He's weirdly super invested. I don't think he's evil but I think we are going to see his motivations/backstory in the next episode (and yes. singular next e-soul episode). we still don't know why Pomelo/you zi was kidnapped!!

Some guesses are that he really wants to differentiate himself from his dad, which is why he jumps at the chance to market Yang Cheng.

or yk. he's gay. who knows

OG E-Soul. first of all, YEESH he just trains shirtless covered in scars and doesn't wear anything under the suit 😭interestingly, he wears a mask all the time but doesn't care about his agent/manager/General Business Blonde Guy seeing him train shirtless and armless.

blonde dude got some nerve talking to this guy like that when he's one-arming like 200 pounds in front of him 💀

he seems unconcerned with whether people trust New E-soul, because nobody could mistake the two. this really lines up with the idea that he's old as Dirt and did some insane feat.

However, Mighty Glory doesn't see it that way because it's about money. TBHX absolutely is providing commentary on capitalism and the commercialization of heroes. (ie. an old symbol of institution brought down by the new age and adapted into something else that matches the ideas of the time) The contrast of a living legend like E-soul and his relationship with Mighty Glory + the media made me feel like Mighty Glory built itself around him with dubious implications for his opinions on the matter.

E-Soul hasn't fought people in a while! so my theory that he's retired is right so far.

ENLIGHTER!!!!! this felt like a crossover cameo but logically the episodes are only a few years apart. Enlighter seems like a big deal here though! Did he used to be higher ranked a few years ago and fell off in Lin Ling's era? ...why did he snap. that's not going to be important is it. brainrot brainrot

TBHX is also for sure highlighting how the transition into the digital age is effecting the Trust System, saying how E-soul had to do so much more work than YC. I wonder how the nuances of the Trust system were different before the spread of the internet. TBHX is a modern show, set in modern times and made to be extremely relevant to current world issues!

our running ideas about Trust seem spot-on so far. YC is getting a fraction of E-souls power. meaning E-Soul is really, really powerful! even though he's not doing anything right now.

SURVIVORS GUILT, PT 2. the similarities between the traumatic events of Yang Cheng's childhood to now are insane. holy shit poor guy

is someone gonna get dramatically shot every episode????? why??? at least Moon is not unique in this regard. hide your side characters nobody is safe 😭

twenty tumblr notes on this shot being wayyy too significant for my emotional health

I DON'T TRUST THE TIMELINE. I DON'T TRUST THE TIMELINE. E-SOUL PV IS SO INSANELY STRANGE.

[fervi-g]

Diane Keaton as Annie Hall

[jareaufiles]

⸝⸝ DESK DUTY — c.novak x g!p female biker

⸝⸝ PREMISE: Casey Novak works late. You show up in leather, cocky and soaked in road heat, just to distract her like the menace of a girlfriend you are.

⸝⸝ WARNINGS: established relationship, g!p reader, dom!reader, semi-public, office sex, mention of bodily fluids, light stimulation, oral, creampie, cum play, dirty talk, mentions of almost being caught, aftercare.

⸝⸝ WORD COUNT: 2.2K

You didn’t come to her office to be good. That was never your style.

You came to distract her. To fuck the work ethic right out of her—and from the second you stepped through her door, reeking of exhaust, sweat, and sin, you saw her face falter. That perfect little mask of control she always wore as Manhattan’s golden ADA cracked just enough for you to see it: hunger, buried beneath frustration.

You lean against the door after locking it, your leather jacket creaking with the motion, worn and scuffed from too many reckless rides and bar fights. Underneath, your tank clings to your broad chest, soaked slightly with sweat from the ride over. Thick arms, inked up and veiny, flex as you pull your gloves off finger by finger. You’re in low-slung jeans, worn at the thighs, stretched tight around the obscene bulge in your crotch—already semi just from thinking about her.

“Don’t you dare,” she warns, trying to sound firm, but her voice already trembles. You can see the flush rising in her cheeks as her eyes dip—can’t help it—to your groin.

You smirk. “Too late, counselor. I missed you. And I’m fucking starving.”

Before she can bark some righteous protest, you’re already moving—fast, deliberate. You yank her chair back and haul her up by the waist like she weighs nothing. Her heels scrape against the floor, and her breath catches when you spin her around and press her against the edge of her desk.

“You’re working too hard,” you growl into her neck, your hand already snaking up her thigh beneath her pencil skirt. “Thought I’d be a good girlfriend and come ruin your night.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but you’ve already found the damp strip of her panties. You give a low chuckle and pull them down slowly, teasing the wetness sticking to the fabric.

“Jesus, Casey,” you whisper, dragging your knuckles along her slit. “You were waiting for this, weren’t you?”

You slide her panties down her legs and let her step out of them, then—because you’re a menace—you ball them up and shove them into your back pocket with a grin. “Souvenir.”

She glares at you, but her thighs are twitching.

You lift her like she weighs nothing, tossing her onto the desk and forcing her legs wide open. The overhead light glows soft and golden, casting long shadows across the room. Everything outside the window is dark—Manhattan asleep, the city’s hum muffled. It’s just you, her, and the slick sound of your fingers dragging through her soaked folds.

You kneel between her legs, shoving her skirt up around her hips. You’ve barely started before you’re groaning. Her pussy’s perfect—plush lips, glistening pink, twitching around nothing. Her clit’s swollen, desperate. She’s practically dripping down her ass already, and you haven’t even touched your cock yet.

You palm her tits roughly through her blouse, popping the first few buttons open and tugging the cups of her bra down to reveal soft, flushed flesh. You groan again as you squeeze—no gentleness, just greed—and she arches her back against the desk.

“Shit, you’re gorgeous when you’re squirming.”

And then your mouth is on her. Tongue dragging flat and filthy over her clit, fingers spreading her open as you lap up her wetness like a fucking meal. You suck, lick, swirl—watching her fall apart in front of you, trying so hard to stay quiet.

“Mmm… you better keep your voice down, baby,” you murmur into her cunt. “Unless you want your staff to hear what a dirty little slut their boss is.”

She covers her mouth with her hand, but her hips buck up against your face. Good girl.

You finally stand, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you reach down to your belt. “Bet they wouldn’t expect the ADA to get fucked by her biker girlfriend on the same desk she signs warrants on.”

Your cock springs free as your jeans drop to your thighs—thick, long, heavy, veined and flushed a deep shade of red. The tip is leaking precome like crazy, aching from being teased too long. It twitches in your hand as you pump it once, slow, letting her get a good look.

“You see what you do to me, counselor?” you growl. “Now open up and take every fucking inch.”

You line yourself up and slide your cock through her slick folds, dragging the head along her soaked pussy. When you finally push in, she gasps—high-pitched and desperate. She’s tight, warm, and you have to grit your teeth not to lose it right there.

She’s stretched wide around you, her pussy clinging to every inch like it was made to be ruined by your cock. You bottom out with a hiss, her walls fluttering around the intrusion.

“Fuck, Casey,” you groan. “You’re squeezing me so goddamn tight.”

You grab her hips and start thrusting—deep, hard, brutal strokes that make the desk creak under her. Papers scatter, pens fall, and somewhere outside, you think you hear footsteps—but you don’t stop.

“Keep quiet, baby,” you growl again, smacking her thigh hard enough to leave a mark. “You want them to hear? Want them to know I make you come on my cock like some needy little toy?”

She moans behind her hand, tears brimming in her eyes from the stretch and the pressure, but she nods. Fucking nods.

And you keep going, fucking her harder, rougher, meaner—just the way she needs it.

You’ve got her spread open on her desk, legs over your shoulders now, her heels digging into the small of your back. Your cock is buried inside her, thick and pulsing, sliding in and out with wet, heavy sounds that echo in the stillness of her office. Every thrust drags a breathy gasp from her lips, her hands gripping the edge of the desk so hard her knuckles are white.

She’s a wreck—hair undone, blouse halfway open, cheeks flushed dark pink. You lean down and kiss her hard, tongues tangling, teeth scraping. Her lipstick smears against your mouth as you devour her. She whimpers into the kiss, moaning against your lips as you fuck her deeper, grinding against that spot that makes her twitch every damn time.

“Feel that?” you growl, voice hot against her mouth. “That’s my cock splitting you open. You’re fucking soaked for me, baby.”

And she is. Her pussy’s a mess around you—pink, flushed, clenching like it’s trying to milk every drop out of you already. Your cock glides through her heat, slick with her wetness, veins dragging along her walls as she writhes beneath you.

She breaks the kiss with a sob of pleasure. “I—I’m gonna—fuck—”

You grin wickedly and grab her hips tighter, slamming into her harder. The desk rattles beneath her, the sound of skin slapping skin obscene and raw. “Then come for me, counselor. Cream my cock. Make a mess on it.”

She chokes on a cry and falls apart, cunt clenching so tight around you it punches a groan out of your chest. Her legs tremble, her back arches, and she stares at you through watery eyes as her orgasm hits—violent, needy, overwhelming. You don’t let up.

“That’s it, fuck—look at you,” you hiss, and your thrusts get rougher, sloppier. You grab her ass, pulling her against you with every pump until your hips stutter, and your cock twitches deep inside her. “Take it—take all my cum, Casey—fuck, baby—”

You shove in to the hilt and groan through your teeth as you unload inside her, cock throbbing, shooting thick spurts of cum straight into her fluttering pussy. It’s messy—your cum floods her, mixing with hers, leaking around your cock as you hold yourself there, panting against her neck.

But you’re not done. Not even close.

You pull out slow, watching your seed drip from her, shining wet between her thighs.

“Fuck,” you whisper, sinking to your knees again. “Look at this fucking mess.”

You spread her open and dive in—tongue first. She lets out a shattered noise as your tongue swirls through the slick mix of both your cum and hers, lapping it up, groaning at the taste. It’s filthy, obscene, and it only makes your cock throb harder again.

You fuck it back into her with your tongue, using your fingers to spread her folds wide, watching more of your cum spill out only to be shoved right back in.

She’s whimpering now, overstimulated, twitching with every flick of your tongue. You grip her thighs tight, then slide your hands under her ass, lifting her higher into your mouth like a feast. Your strength is obscene—like it’s nothing, you hold her up, her back arching as you bury your face deeper.

Your tongue flattens against her clit again, and she grabs your hair, eyes rolling back.

“I—I can’t—please—”

But she doesn’t want you to stop. Her hips roll against your mouth, chasing it, moaning uncontrollably.

That’s when the knock hits.

Three sharp raps on the door. A muffled voice: “Ms. Novak? Just wanted to see if you needed me to prep the warrant packet before I leave…”

Casey freezes—eyes wide, mouth open, trembling all over. You look up from between her legs with a devil’s smirk and tongue still pressed right against her clit.

Her voice cracks. “O-One second!”

Then you suck—hard—and her hand slams over her mouth, eyes filling with tears. She’s this close.

“I—I’m fine,” she croaks, barely above a whisper. “I’ll… handle it.”

Footsteps fade away.

The second they do, she breaks.

Your tongue works her mercilessly, and she comes again, crying out into her fist as her pussy clamps around your tongue, juices spilling over your face. You moan into her, not stopping, dragging her through the aftershocks until she’s twitching and whimpering from the overstimulation.

Only then do you slowly lower her trembling body back onto the desk, wiping your face with the back of your hand and grinning like the sinful bastard you are.

“Still think I was a distraction?” you ask, breathless.

She glares at you through glassy eyes and a ruined mouth. “Yes,” she whispers. “A dangerous one.”

She’s still panting, sprawled on her desk, thighs twitching, her skirt wrinkled around her waist and her blouse halfway unbuttoned. Her lipstick’s smeared, and there's a raw pinkness around her mouth from biting back screams. She looks ruined—fucked-out and stunning.

You lean over her, pressing a soft kiss to her inner thigh, then another, trailing them higher until you reach her belly. She's too dazed to move, eyes fluttering as she watches you through half-lidded lashes.

“You did so good for me, Case,” you murmur, voice low and husky but warm now. “Such a good girl.”

She lets out a soft, embarrassed whimper, but she doesn’t protest. If anything, she melts at the praise, her fingers twitching like she wants to reach for you. You brush a knuckle gently across her flushed cheek and grin. “Bet your staff wouldn’t believe what a filthy little thing their ADA turns into behind closed doors.”

She swats at your shoulder with no force behind it. “Shut up,” she breathes—but there’s no bite in it.

You straighten, still grinning, and walk around the desk to the bottom drawer—you know her routines, know that behind all that uptight control, she keeps a little box of necessities tucked away for when she works late. You find the wipes easily and grab a few, pulling one out and kneeling between her legs again, this time not to fuck—but to clean.

Your touch is slow now, almost reverent. You gently wipe the mess between her legs, soaking up the mix of her slick and your cum that’s still dribbling from her pussy. She flinches at first, still sensitive, but you shush her quietly, thumb stroking her thigh.

“Easy, baby. Just let me take care of you.”

You clean her thoroughly, one wipe at a time, careful not to drag over her clit too roughly. She watches you with this soft, tender expression—like she doesn’t know what to do with all this care after the way you wrecked her. You ball the used wipes up and drop them onto the desk for now, then take another to clean your cock—now softening but still heavy, slick with her and your cum.

Once you’re done, you tuck yourself back into your jeans, zip up, buckle your belt again, and finally toss the used wipes in her trash bin.

You look back at her, still half-sprawled across her desk, her eyes starting to focus again.

“You still alive, counselor?” you ask, lips quirking.

She gives a tired smile. “Barely.”

You chuckle, stepping back between her legs and cupping her jaw in one large, rough hand, tilting her face up. You kiss her—slow, deep, and sweet. A different kind of filthy: the kind that tastes like adoration wrapped in dominance.

When you pull away, you rest your forehead to hers and murmur, “Next time you think about staying late, just remember—I’ll always come find you. And I’ll always win.”

She breathes out a laugh, voice still hoarse. “You’re a menace.”

You grin. “Yours.”

[dorkynerd23]