#what do we think ? im thinking Think Pieces

[splishfish]

Curiosity killed the cat...

Yuji Itadori x AFAB Reader x Megumi Fushiguro

Summary: While waiting for your dear roommate Nobara to return with drinks and snack, things between you and your other friends get heated...

Tags: PiV, N!pple Play, Pu$$y Eating, Blowjob, Threesome(?), Frotting, Squirting, Getting Caught (kinda)

WC: 5.0K

A/N: repost bc tumblr doesnt like me, but TY FOR 1,000 FOLLOWERS I LOVE YOU ALL!!! I will fufill someones fic request in the comments of this fic! So write something down you'd like to see!

Sitting in the middle of Yuji and Megumi in their creaky old dorm couch, you think to yourself that this is where you were meant to be. Surrounded by your best friends and living life to the fullest.

You’ve known Megumi, Yuji, and Nobara since high school, and ever since you were all paired for a group project, it seemed as though everything clicked, and since then, you’ve all been inseparable.

Now, a few years later and you’re all in college. You and Nobara share a dorm together, small, but cozy since it’s just the two of you. You had grown closer to her over the years, seeing as she was the only other female in the friend group. 

To the left of you, a large bowl of popcorn sat half eaten on Yuji’s lap, his eyes trained onto the film in front of him. To your right, Megumi sat silent, leaning lazily against the couch arm while his gaze flickered between the movie and his phone.

Then there was you. Sat in the middle with knees brought up to your chest as you idly watched the film, your gaze occasionally darting to the digital clock lazily sitting on their kitchen counter. It was 7pm.

Nobara had left around an hour ago to go buy drinks and snacks down at the campus convenience store, but that was only supposed to take a few minutes. So…where the hell was she?

After a few more minutes of pretending to watch the movie, you finally sent Nobara a text.

'Hey, wya?' 'Had to run down to the grocery store downtown cause the campus store closed early, im so pissed.' 'Oh damn. Uhh, what’s your eta?' 'idk. I’ll text you when i’m close.'

With a reluctant sigh, you turned off your phone, breaking the silence as you spoke.

“Nobara is gonna run late. Campus store closed early and now she’s going to the grocery store.”

Both Megumi and Yuji turned their attention to you, a curious blink and tilt of the head from Yuji, and an uninterested glance from Megumi told you everything you needed to know.

Another sigh escaped you, and as you jutted your bottom lip in thought, you spoke again.

“Should we do something while we wait? I’m kinda getting bored of watching TV.”

A soft hum left Yuji’s lips as he turned his attention back to the movie playing on the tv. It was some romcom movie Nobara had recommended they watched while she was gone, a ‘classic’ she had called it.

Yuji shrugged, throwing another piece of popcorn into his mouth as he spoke.

“Sure. What should we do?”

“…Good question.”

Another sigh escaped your lips, and as you brainstormed for some idea of what to do, your eyes drifted back to the movie. 

Only for your face to turn as red as Yuji’s jacket.

Nobara had warned them that the film was…spicy, to an extent. But she didn’t tell them it was like this!

A pair of breasts were front and center of the screen, soft moans echoing through the silent room as the male lead softly lapped at the hardened nipples of the actress. His lips eagerly suckled on one of the pink nubs, his hand rubbing and circling the tender nipple of her unattended breast.

You quickly looked away, feeling your own nipples tighten under your bra, sending an uncomfortable feeling down your spine. You could feel the fabric of your bra brushing against your nipples, and you quickly reached for the tv remote, attempting to turn off the movie before the other two could notice.

But it was too late. Of course it was too late. Yuji stared with wide eyes at the TV, a pale flush on his cheeks as he awkwardly darted his eyes away, the faint twitch in his pants quickly covered by the bowl of popcorn.

Megumi was much more subtle, and he seemed…unaffected, really. But with the faint glow of the tv shining on his face, you could see the faint pink that dusted his face, his ears turned red from embarrassment as he quickly looked away, pretending to be more interested in the window.

Now, as the movie was quickly turned off, true silence filled the room. Only the soft breathing of everyone was heard, and the occasional shy shuffle of limbs as they all tried to collect themselves.

When you finally tried to break the silence, mouth parted with the words already on the tip of your tongue, you were interrupted by the blunt, yet curious voice of Yuji.

“Do your tits look like that?”

You could’ve sworn you heard something snap in both yours and Megumi’s necks when you both whipped around to stare at Yuji with the most baffled expressions the both of you could muster. It took less than half a second for Megumi to launch himself towards Yuji, grabbing his collar with a furious expression and bared teeth, and then less than 2 seconds for him to start blushing.

“Are you a moron?! Who asks those kinds of things!?”

”Hey! Let go of me, I was just curious!”

The both of them bickered for a few moments, Megumi’s body bridging over yours, his knees pressed against the outside of your thighs as he reached over you to damn near strangle Yuji.

It wasn’t until your flustered voice echoed, that they both stopped and turned to you.

“Uh…k-kinda…but my nipples are a…different color…”

Your face turned a deep shade of red with each word you spoke, a sudden throb at your clit made you shiver with excitement. There wasn’t an exact reason as to why you were reacting this way, but your body just couldn’t help it. It was natural when talking about stuff like this, right?

The silence seemed even more prominent now, and you heard the sharp intake of breath they both did, and after a moment, Megumi crawled off and back into his corner of the couch, turning away as he discreetly covered his face, hiding the blush on his cheeks.

Yuji, however, was not as shameful as Megumi.

“A different color? Like, brown?”

You bit your lip, and you could sense the air in the room shift to something more…heated.

You nod, your eyes hesitantly darting up to meet his own. Your lashes fluttered with surprise as you noticed the genuinely curious expression on his face, his brows raised up and his bottom lip jutted as if he was stopping himself from asking another embarrassing question.

Which he did not succeed in.

“Can I see them?”

Once again, Megumi’s head snapped towards the both of you when he heard the offending question, his face tinted red with what might’ve been both anger and embarrassment. You could see him get ready to pounce Yuji, again, but as he dug his nails into the arm of the couch and held back, he snapped at Yuji.

“Is there something seriously wrong with you? Stop asking stupid questions!”

“I was just asking!”

And once again, they bicker. Yuji was attempting to defend his seemingly genuine curiosity, his face somewhat pitiful as he complained.

“I don’t even mean it that way! Tits don’t really do it for me like that, I like ass!”

“Can you stop talking!?”

If it wasn’t for your loud cackle of laughter, they probably would’ve bickered ‘til daytime. As they both heard your laughter, they seemed to calm down just a bit.  Megumi huffed, clicking his tongue as he glared at Yuji, and Yuji, well, he just scratched the back of his head with a tired sigh.

Once the room had grown silent once again, you glanced at Yuji as you cleared your throat.

“Do you really want to? See them, I mean…”

You could see the gears turning in their brains, and when your words finally clicked, they both turned to look at you. Yuji, with an excited boyish grin, and Megumi with a shocked yet slightly darkened gaze.

“Wait-? Seriously? You’ll show us your tits?”

“Who’s us!?”

~

The cold air of the living room was a sharp contract to the hot touch of your skin, your breasts forming goosebumps as your nipples tightened and hardened into little buds. Your bra and shirt were pushed up under your chin as you arched your back, presenting your breasts to Yuji.

“Wow…”

His voice was hoarse as he spoke, his eyes trained onto your brown buds. His expression was a mix of what you could only assume was astonishment and curiosity, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he leaned in to ogle at your breasts. Then there was Megumi, who was sat behind you with a frown on his face as he turned away, resting his chin on the palm of his hand with a snide comment.

“You’re seriously gonna parade yourself to him?”

You rolled your eyes in amusement, tilting your head back to send him an amused smile.

“You’re welcome to look too, Megumi~”

And when you received nothing but the faint blush of his ears, you giggled and turned back to Yuji, who’s brown eyes were still staring at your nipples. It only took a few seconds of staring for his eyes to trail up, meeting your own.

And in Yuji fashion, he blurted out the first thing on his mind.

“Can I touch them?”

You jolted at his question, the action making your tits bounce in an almost comical way. A faint blush formed on your cheeks, and you could feel your body react with need at his words.

You weren’t surprised with his question. No, you honestly kinda expected it. What did surprise you was when there was no reaction from Megumi. No shout of annoyance, no lunging at Yuji, just…nothing.

But when you glanced back at him, expecting to see a furious look at his face, you were only met with expectant eyes that were bordering on jealousy.

You quickly shook the thought out of your head, turning back to Yuji who still sat patiently in front of you, eyes wide with curiosity. He looked like a puppy. A puppy who wanted to touch your boobs.

“Ah…sure…”

An excited grin spread across his face, his eyes shining with glee as he quickly shot his hands up to grope the soft flesh of your tits, squishing and rubbing the two mounds together like they were soft toys for him to play with.

A surprised noise escaped your lips, your body nearly falling back onto Megumi’s from the force of Yuji’s excited hands. You quickly landed on your hands, your head barely bumping against Megumi’s shoulder when Yuji started pinching your nipples.

Your sharp moan echoed through the room, eyes widening with surprise as his fingers fumbled and played with your hardened buds. Your head leaned back against Megumi’s shoulder, strangled gasps and moans falling from your parted lips with each pinch and pull.

“Wow…your nipples are so hard! And you’re moaning a lot too…does it really feel that good?”

Yuji’s curious voice was laced with amusement, and you could’ve sworn the fucker was doing this on purpose. There was no way he was doing this without knowing what it does to you.

Ah, if only you saw the barely restrained lust that was slowly forming in his eyes.

“Y-Yeesss! Y-Yuji-! W-Wait, s-stop-“

Before you could even finish your sentence, you suddenly felt the warm chest of Megumi hit your back, arms wrapping around your torso before Megumi’s firm hands started harshly groping your tits. His breath was hot against your ear as he growled, your heart hammering with each word he spoke.

“You’re seriously gonna moan his name when I'm right behind you? Don’t you have any shame, flaunting these perfect tits and letting your friends play with them?”

His words were coupled by harsh tugs on your nipples, which were slowly puffing up with the harsh treatment from the both of them. Megumi’s hands were cupping your tits, flicking your nipples while Yuji whined in annoyance, clearly upset now that he was being ignored.

Your voice broke into a soft sob of pleasure, your head leaning back onto Megumi’s shoulder to pant against his neck, your whimpers and moans turning into soft warbles.

“N-No…No, ‘s j-just-!”

Before you could even finish, Yuji shoved away Megumi’s hand, mouth latching onto your left nipple while his hands quickly settled themselves onto your waist. His tongue rubbed and lapped at your nipple, his mouth hollowing with each harsh suck on your tit, your nipple now puffy and sore in his mouth.

Your back arched, another moan of pleasure escaped you before your hands quickly attempted to push him off, but before you could even put in enough force to try, Megumi’s hands wrapped around your wrists, holding them in place.

He nuzzled into your neck, his nose tracing the soft shape of your jaw as he murmured.

“Tell us to stop…”

He kissed your neck, tongue sliding out to rest against your skin, letting his saliva pool and sink into your skin.

“Cause once we start, I don’t know if we’ll be able to stop…”

His words made your breath hitch, and it was in that moment you noticed Yuji’s eager actions had also stopped, his chin resting on the soft surface of your breasts while he waited patiently for your consent. You felt your body tense, shivering in both anticipation and slight relief. Yes, god yes you wanted this…but is this really worth potentially losing two best friends? Would you three ever be able to look at each other the same?

You could feel Yuji’s thumbs rub gentle circles on your waist, and you could feel the puppyish look he was giving you, eyes needy yet patient. Megumi was more tense, but you could feel the way his fingers twitched, his grasp on your wrists loosening the longer you took to answer him.

Maybe it was a bad idea to sleep with two of your best friends, maybe this would ruin everything you had all worked for…

But as Megumi slowly slid his hands away from your wrists, letting his hands fall away from your own, you quickly dragged them back in place until he was groping your right tit.

His breath hitched as you arched your back, your voice and shaky whisper of need and desire.

“I wan’ it…”

~

You don’t remember when or how the three of you made it to Yuji’s bed, just the faint memory of the three of you stripping down to your underwear, and Megumi arguing about not wanting a mess on his bed. You supposed he had a fair point, considering the sticky mixture of saliva and arousal that dripped down your pussy, forming a puddle under your ass.

Yuji’s hands held your thighs apart while he messily lapped at your pussy, his tongue parting the puffy folds of your labia to reveal your eager hole. He was messy and inexperienced, and honestly he kept missing your clit, only really pushing up against it with his nose when he buried his tongue inside you, but you didn’t seem to mind.

Even if you did, your mouth was far too occupied by the cock sliding in and out of your kiss-swollen lips to complain.

Megumi had discarded his underwear some time ago in favor of keeping his cock warm in your mouth. Your hand was placed on Megumi’s firm thigh as he kneeled beside you with his legs slightly parted, his lengthy cock slowly sliding in and out of your drooling mouth. His hand gripping your hair gently as he guided you up and down to his preferred pace, a pace so slow and steady you wanted to push him further down your throat yourself. His eyes were lidded, mouth slightly parted as soft pants of pleasure escaped him. His top lip would curl up into a pleasurable snarl every time you slid your tongue under his foreskin, swirling around his flushed tip with a lewd slurp.

One of his free hands rubbed your tight nipple, occasionally pinching it to watch your body twitch. Moans left your lips in a steady stream, creating a sweet symphony that echoed throughout the room.

“Y-Y’er so wet…”

Yuji muttered, pulling away from your twitchy cunt to part your folds with his thumbs. His eyes narrowed as a glob of fresh arousal slid down your pink insides, the embarrassing squelch of your pussy making the three of you blush. Your hips wiggled as a muffled moan escaped you, your hand tightened around Megumi’s thigh as you weakly reached down with your free hand to push him back onto your heat.

He was eager to comply, he always was, you noticed. Eager. Willing. It made your pussy ache knowing he was so eager to please, to taste, to be used for your own desire. 

Then there was Megumi, his breathing steady and his hand firm against your head. He wasn’t like Yuji who was starving for your flesh, fervent in all his actions of pleasure, hoping to see the slight twitch of your thighs that told him he was doing good.

No. Megumi was patient. He didn’t push you down to gag on his cock like he desperately wanted, he didn’t fuck your face like it was the last warm hole he’d ever stick his dick in. No, he wanted to savor this. He wanted to watch every face you made, every twitch of your tummy when something hit you just right.

He wanted everything you could give him.

So when he slid out of your mouth, wet cock hitting your nose lewdly before he grasped the hilt, he mumbled.

“I wanna be inside her first.”

Though, things didn’t always go as smoothly as Megumi wanted them to go.

Yuji quickly sat up from between your legs, a syrupy string of your slick and his spit connected his lips to your pussy before breaking off, and he licked his lips before he spoke with a whiny tone.

“What?! I’m the one who’s prepping her, I should be the one to go first!”

“What you’re doing is hardly considered ‘prepping’. The most you’re doing is making a mess all over your own sheets.”

“Hey!”

You sat up slowly, hair messy and slightly tangled from when Megumi slid your mouth against his cock. You leaned back on your arms, eyes glassy and lips swollen from, well…everything. Your chest heaved with each breath, and as you nibbled on your bottom lip, your mind swirled with lewd thoughts. You mumbled softly, cheeks pink with embarrassment.

“C-Can I suggest something?”

Both of them turned to you, Megumi’s brows pinched together, and bottom lip jutted out in a cute pout. Yuji stared at you with confusion, but seemed keen to hear your idea.

You gave them a small grin, a sleazy expression on your face as you trailed a hand up your stomach and rested it on your tits.

“Y-You guys should hump each other…like, dick on dick…the first one to cum fucks me last…”

Almost instantly, they both made an expression of distaste. Yuji fake gagged and shoving Megumi away as he crawled between your legs with a pleading expression.

“Oh c’mon! Can’t you just l-“

Before he could even finish his sentence, Megumi grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back, forcing Yuji to lay down on the bed. Yuji blushed as Megumi crawled over him, straddling his thighs as his left hand held the base of his cock.

“Shut up. Let’s just get it over with.”

Yuji stared up at him with an open mouth before turning his head to you, whose eyes were wide with excitement. He blushed again, before groaning, his hands reaching down to push off his boxers, the last remaining article of clothing he wore.

Yuji’s chubby cock flopped onto his stomach, smaller than Megumi’s, but it was much thicker and heavier. He stroked himself a few times before mumbling.

“How do we do this…?”

There was no response from Megumi, only a small grunt as he shuffled closer, their balls softly landing on each others. They both jumped at the contact, their cocks twitching and stomachs clenching from the feeling. Now, with stuttered breathing and flushed faces, Megumi leaned in, a hand flat against the mattress besides Yuji’s head as he rubbed his cock against Yuji’s.

The response was instant. A soft gasp escaped Yuji, and a visceral flinch drove through Megumi’s body. They didn’t move for a moment, composing themselves before Yuji rocked his own hips, once again dragging their cocks along each other.

They didn’t flinch this time. Didn’t move away or try to stop. No. Maybe it was because they were too pent up, or maybe they just really wanted to fuck you first, but soon, the bed started rocking with the motion of the two of them humping their cocks together.

You sat back, hand between your thighs as you worked yourself open with your fingers, eyes locked on the arousing sight before you. Their cocks were leaking, pre-cum mixing together and creating a slippery mess neither of them seemed to care about. 

Yuji’s hands were tight on Megumi’s hips, guiding him to keep moving, to keep rubbing their cocks together until neither of them remembered why they were doing this.

It didn’t take long for one of them to stagger. Composed hips suddenly rutting in desperation breathing labored and hot as their tip reddened with need, and then suddenly-

Release.

Megumi’s head fell forward, a moan escaping his lips as he came, hot cum shooting past Yuji’s stomach and onto his chest, creating silky strings of white that soon puddled together. Yuji panted, watching as Megumi’s cock twitched and pulsed, the small hole winking with each spurt of semen that was released.

Megumi slid off Yuji, collapsing onto the bed as his body trembled, attempting to come down from the high that hit him so suddenly. He was turned away, ears red behind the raven hair that stuck to his neck and forehead, and although he probably wouldn’t admit it, he seemed to enjoy that far more than he thought he would.

Yuji slowly sat up, his cock almost purple from the need for release. He looked over at you, puppy eyes wide and needy as he spoke.

“Can we please have sex now?”

“…Can you get the condoms from my purse?”

~

You laid back against the sheets, legs wrapped around his waist as he fumbled to line up his wrapped cock to your opening, hands shaky with excitement. When his tip finally snagged against your hole, he let out a sigh of relief, leaning over you to place his hands besides your head.

You looked up at him with a soft smile, legs gently tightening around his waist to bring him closer, gently pushing him just a bit further inside. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, playing with the damp strands that stuck to the backside of his head.

Yuji didn’t waste any more time sliding his chubby cock into your welcoming heat, his head falling forwards as his mouth opened in shock, a strangled moan escaping him.

The stretch was immediate, and it kinda hurt. You’ve had sex a few times, but most guys had a dick like Megumi’s. Long, thin, something your pussy had easily adjusted to.

But now, despite the size difference between the cocks you’ve had in the past, Yuji’s seemed to make you feel fuller. Your walls pulsed around him, a little too tight for comfort as he had to pull back from the nearly suffocating heat.

You tried burying your face in his pillow, tried to relax and loosen up your muscles, tried to make it easier for him. It took a while, long enough for Megumi to sit up and move behind you, hand rubbing through your hair as he asked if you were okay. A simple nod of your head was enough, and Yuji slowly began to rut into you.

Not full thrusts. Just small movements, enough to try and get your pussy to hold more of him, little by little.

When you had finally let out the first moan of pleasure, eyes fluttering closed as a relieved sigh escaped you, Yuji finally found it in him to go a little faster. His hips slapped against yours in a messy rhythm, not quite able to figure out a tempo for himself, but just enough so that it wasn’t a shit show.

You bit your bottom lip, eyes closed as you let out soft breaths of pleasure. Not moans. Not screams or groans. But something softer, something more real than the things they’ve all heard in porn.

His cock worked through your walls, twitching and rubbing the squishy parts of your pussy you knew all too well. It felt different compared to your fingers. Your fingers were just long enough to hit the squishy spot near your opening, just enough to prod and abuse the little bundle until you came.

But his cock was different. Thicker. Bigger. He didn’t prod and poke like your fingers did, he didn’t hit or nudge it like the longer cocks you were used to.

No. He rubbed. Rubbed it with the girth of his cock, a cock just chubby and short enough that it felt like your body was steadily reaching the top of a rollercoaster. You could feel your pussy clench, you could feel it froth with arousal as he kept rubbing that sweet spot so tenderly, something you were sure he didn’t even know he was doing.

But it didn’t matter, when you were finally falling head first into your orgasm.

Your stomach lurched, body twitching as a strangled moan escaped you, pussy pulsing and milking his cock with all its might. You could feel him stutter, attempting to fuck you through your high but failing when your pussy kept him snuggled inside its pulsing walls.

You were breathing heavy, body still twitching as you came down from your high, ears ringing from the burst of pleasure in your belly.

You hardly noticed when Yuji took off the condom, stroking himself until he came against your belly, leaving you marked with his seed. You did notice when he moved away, the warmth of his body leaving you, only to be replaced with another.

Megumi.

He hovered over you for a moment, his hand landing on your hip only to trail up your side, caressing your skin until he met your breast, cupping it tenderly before giving it a harsh squeeze.

You jumped.

And then you were flipped over, laying on your stomach with a dizzied expression as he lifted up your hips, handling you to his desire. When you laid still, ass up and face down on the bed, he leaned in, kissing your back as he murmured.

“Are you still with me?”

Another lazy nod was what you gave, and then another kiss landed on your back. He trailed down, down, down, until he kissed the flesh of your ass. He pulled away after a moment, his hands rubbing the soft sculpt of your butt almost experimentally. He pulled them apart, and you could feel his eyes gaze onto your puckered asshole.

You shifted.

When he pushed his tip against your hole, you recognized the distinct feel of rubber covering his cock, cold against your lower lips. He gently pushed inside, and you clenched the sheets besides you.

His cock was easier to take. Similar in size to the other guys you’ve slept with before, and similar in girth. It was comforting. Familiar.

It was easy for your insides to welcome him in, snugly pulsing around him like it was expecting his arrival. 

He slowly pulled out, eyes trained and watching as your arousal slicked the condom, making it much easier for him to slide back in. He was slow. Patient. He rocked his body against yours, hands groping and exploring your body as he savored the feeling of you.

You hummed, stretching your top half against the sheets as he fucked you, your breathing shaky as his cock prodded around your insides.

It felt good, feeling his cock hit your g-spot. Familiar. Like when you’re alone in bed, fingers curling and poking until you felt your legs tremble. Yeah. It feels good. It felt good when Yuji’s cock rubbed against it too. New.

But unlike the way Yuji’s cock slowly brought you to orgasm, a steady buildup that had your pussy frothing and brain fuzzy, this one was more violent.

Sudden.

Megumi’s pace sped up, his cock slamming perfectly into your g-spot, sending shockwaves throughout your body. Your ass jiggles against his navel, toes curling as sharp gasps escaped you.

The buildup wasn’t slow. It was numbing. It was electric. It felt like your brain was melting.

Overwhelming.

You tried to reach back, tried to catch your breath, tried to mewl his name, but it only encouraged him. He moved faster, fucked you harder until you were shaking with each thrust, and when you came again you weren’t too sure what happened first.

The white that suddenly blinded you, or the squirt of liquid that escaped you.

You hardly noticed it at first. Stomach contracting, pussy pulsing, the weird feeling of not knowing if you're about to cum or pee...

It wasn’t until you felt it trickle down your thighs that you sat up shakily, mildly embarrassed that you might have pissed yourself mid orgasm.

But when Megumi’s cock plopped out of you, eyes wide with shock as he stared at your fluttering hole, you second guessed yourself.

The two of you panted softly, Megumi tossing his used condom into Yuji’s trash, while Yuji flopped down beside you to cuddle. 

Before any of you could speak, the door to Yuji’s room slammed open, causing the three of you to stumble for cover. Yuji fell off the bed, quickly covering his groin with his red sweater. Megumi threw the blanket over himself and you, about to throw the nearest item (your phone) at the intruder, only to freeze at the familiar face.

Nobara stood at the door, a grocery bag full of candies and drinks hung on her wrist as she stared down at you all. Her brow twitched in annoyance, before she shouted in frustration.

“You guys seriously couldn’t wait until I came back!? Don’t you think I wanna fuck too!?”

A/N: Im sooo sorry if they all seem a little OOC i wasn't entirely sure how to write them, T-T BUT I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED!

M.list ~ BlogRules

@xoxolittleangel @snoozingsweetpea

[dietcane]

⚢ barbed wire baby - if u think i'm pretty

cw: dead dove, do not eat !!, age gap (ellie is late 30's, reader is 21), elements of domestic violence, toxic relationship, death, themes of organized crime (gangs/mafia/drug cartels), cheating, bribery, abuse (physical, drugs, alcohol), mentioned gambling, bloodplay, strap-on usage, heavy manipulation, dark!ellie, spitting, rough sex, oral sex, depictions of mental instability. more to be added!!

synopsis: as the adrenaline becomes more and more overwhelming, so does the danger. stakes are higher than ever. dingy prison cells, double entendres whispered through jail phones. knowing glances exchanged with prison guards. her modern day bonnie to her clyde. your life weighs in the balance. you know ellie has pull inside and out. you have to decide if you're willing to risk everything for her. are you?

IF U THINK IM PRETTY

⤷ m.list | a/n: hi she's so short soz. tumblr has been nerfing me for 3 days. cw for bloodplay and Hella drug talk. as always (a jadey staple) not betaed. no beta we die like vi in ch3

Ellie is a paradox. Something to be studied. She keeps you at arm’s length most of the time. Lets you try to pry and sink underneath her skin.

She's both real and not. A limbo, even.

Lets you get close enough and then shuts you out- hung and split open by the barbed wire ends of her soul.

It's like she's more of an idea rather than a person.

A 2D figure- lacking depth and feeling and emotion. A barely liminal figure with expensive tastes, perfectly tailored suits, and a horrifying skill with knives and guns and practically every weaponry underneath the sun.

Ellie’s limosine is quite spacious. Black expensive leather, dark interior of whatever vinyl she’s chosen to line the inside with.

Being on the backside of the partition with Ellie's favorite bodyguard makes it seem impossibly smaller.

Ellie's tasked you and Abby to attend a charity event on her behalf. A fancy gala. Probably going to be surrounded by stuffy corset taut dresses and three-piece suits worth more money than you've ever touched in your life.

You don't like attending them. Would rather claw your eyes out with a dull knife. Ellie makes them tolerable, though. But she's not with you.

She's tucked into her own private sanctuary behind ironclad walls and barbed wire trim. Probably controls the entire jail in the palm of her hand and executes every action and service she wants with a bored gaze or flick of the hand.

And instead? You're stuck with six feet of blonde, hairy muscle. Thick arms wrangled into a shirt, straining against the restraints of white fabric. She's manspreading, too. Knees parted enough to accommodate you between them. Parted enough for her to lazily glance down at you on your heels, just enough to make you feel small. To feel the difference. How she's so big and how you're nothing to her.

She's burly where your Ellie is lean and clean cut. Abby likes her work messy. Wet, unpredictable mess.

More often than not, Abby trudges into the manor covered in stark crimson and what you usually assume is guts and *maybe* brain matter.

It's hot.

She's cleaned up tonight, though. Pressed head to toe in a black suit, usual frizzy hair tugged and tamed into a neat french braid.

There's a bulge at her ankle- her gun, you guess- and a bulge heavy between her thighs.

It gets you going, to say the least.

Paired with unrelenting eye contact? With the subtle prod of her tongue into her cheek? You're a goner, damn near. But Ellie prods at the front of your mind. Nagging. Reoccurring.

**Don't think of her like that. Only me.**

The idea of both Abby and Ellie staring you down from across the seats? Gets your cunt to throb and clench down around nothing.

Makes you shift in your seat, crossing and uncrossing your legs. Makes your panties start to darken with wet, sticky arousal. Melds them to your skin until it clings like a second skin. Cotton fabric molded to the folds of your cunt.

Abby has to have a superhuman-wolf trait buried beneath her DNA because as discrete as you think you're being- she clocks every movement and micro expression.

"Not fucking you in Ellie's limousine, whore."

Her voice holds a certain tone that just screams 'I-am-going-to-force-you-into-submission' with little twinges of 'I-will-hurt-you-until-you-cry-for-my-own-pleasure'. Her voice has that tinge of sex-like, honey twang laced throughout it. She's got the voice of someone who knows how to effortlessly dominate.

It's mean to say the least. But it spurs you on more. Makes you crack a cheeky smile. Like you've accepted her challenge. To push back.

"So you'd do it outside of the car?"

That elicits a laugh out of her- a quick little breathy thing. You amuse her. Intrigue her, even. Reeled in by the pendulum of your instability and attachment to Ellie. Curious about the relativity of the topics- how at the absolute end of your wit's end and stability, she's all you need and she's all that can fix you, versus the calm, yet quick ascendancy into mania, the short lived moments of hyper-independence and blotches of your own personality. Of individualism and sight without your usual rose-tinted glasses.

Same coin, same pendulum, different person. Different perspective and energies. She's drawn to that.

"I shouldn't be fucking you. Period."

"I disagree. Ellie would want you to take care of me, no? Plus, I already know that you want to fuck me."

"Sure, I want to fuck you-- as I do with any relatively pretty girl with tits. Doesn't mean I'm going to, though."

You prod your tongue into your cheek. Abby Anderson is a woman of false morals that she has zero convictions for, who *also* wants to fuck you. She is just sticking to her fake motto and narrative to appease that little parasitic residence of Ellie bumbling around in her brain.

"Why not? You want to fuck me and vice versa. No restraints to hold you back, hm?"

Abby stares at you like she's analyzing you. Like she's peeling back as many of your surface layers as she can get through based on body language and her eyes alone. Her eyes go right through you. Like she knows exactly how far your pendulum of stability and sense has suspended into the air.

You can see her determine and conclude that you're far off into the deep end- or climbing that crescendo of mania disguised as stabilizing yourself.

You don't appreciate being snipped apart like that. Like she's gone down on your with a pair of dull, flat surgical scissors and fraying every nerve ending. Slowly decrypting the false front that you've gaslighted yourself into believing.

"You're desperate, I see. Pathetic, really."

She raps her scarred knuckles against the window separating the two of you from Ellie's assigned driver. Her eyes catch on yours before her attention is dragged off to the steadily releasing partition.

Abby sits back and cocks her head at you, curiously.

This is probably the most you've spoken to her. Words with Abby are usually lost under the charged sexual tension. The silent, unspoken gazes across the kitchen when you stumble out of your room in the morning, only clad in a t-shirt and panties. The held breaths when she barges into with promises of plans orchestrated by Ellie, only to see you bared to the world in your stark nakedness, three fingers plunged into your greedy cunt.

The tension has always lingered there. Simmered in the presence of others and broiled in the moments alone. Every interaction charged and sparked with every passing moment.

The air thins out between the two of you-- like you're trapped into a steadily shrinking cage with barely any room to breathe. It's reminiscent of Jaws, you think. Caged in, surrounded by nothing but *predator*. Abby's eyes are hungry. Like she's unraveling every bit of you with her eyes.

Her calloused hand flexes by her side. Experimental. Hesitant.

Her hand then meets your knee, first. Palm searing your skin through the satin-y black dress pulled tight over your skin. The scratchy callouses press into the fleshy meat of your thigh as her hand trails upwards.

Abby’s warm hand lands over your lower stomach.

Right above your womb, your brain supplies, rather unhelpfully.

She withdraws completely through. Like touching you was burning *her* skin. Pulling away like she doesn't want to fuck you within an inch of your life.

Sits back against the limousine seats, arms splayed behind the headrests.

She wants you to work for it.

Abby cocks her head to the side, eyes trailing from yours to her lap.

“Mmh. You know, I’ve played these types of games before. With Ellie, too.” She starts, sighing and shifting her hips. “Cat and mouse. That stupid silent tension bullshit. Where you think you have some kind of dislike for me, but you don't. I see how you look at me some days- that pure, unbridled rage. But when you're honest with yourself? Like now? You want me.”

–

Ellie is reckless.

Twenty-three years old and nothing short of a hot mess express.

Flaunts her gun at whoever gets uppy with her. Whoever she feels like she needs to instill the fear in.

She takes whatever drug she can get her hands on. The needles, the powder, the pills- anything. Searching for something to keep the high going. Mixing, lacing, cutting. Anything. Benzodiazepine cocktails.

That, unfortunately, is where Abby comes in.

Swoops into her life like she's some almighty God fearing savior for Ellie.

Her father hired her. To be a “handler”. Keep her under wraps. Under the guide of a firm hand.

Her father isn’t anything like her. No streaks of hard-headed rebellion that course all through her. Ellie and Joel Miller are not two sides of the same coin. Joel Miller is like a vintage, well polished coin. Something to be displayed and be proud of. A praise garnering achievement.

Ellie is not. Ellie is like a rusted, oxidizing coin you usually find in the pocket of tattered jeans or lying in the sidewalks, discarded and not of use. She’s not like Joel. She’ll never be like him. He doesn’t dabble in things that will kill him, solely for the thrill. He doesn’t lay in his bed with needles shoved into his forearms because he just *feels* like it. That’s not him. It never will be.

Joel sees Ellie as a mess to be contained. Something to be contained into a tiny little box of conformities. Conformities that feel like clothes too many sizes too small to fit her. Something that needs to be wrangled and controlled like she’s some wild animal.

Ellie doesn't need to be controlled. Doesn't need to be guided like she's some baby. She knows what she's doing. Knows what will kill her and what won't.

A calculated mess.

Counts up the dosages to coke herself up on. It's not safe, but it's practiced. A routine. Rinse and repeat. Thrives in her own routine. Wake up, drink, shoot up, maybe fall asleep.

But then, Abby meddles into it.

Worms herself into an equation that has no answer or space for her. Intertwines herself into Ellie’s life. Throws out half assed suggestions for rehab.

Like Ellie needs **fixing**.

Ellie doesn't need to be shoved into a room full of people who don't know how to take care of themselves. People who are reliant on their burnt spoons and rusted, tetanus infected needles.

She knows what she's doing. She can live without it. Quit anytime she wants. She doesn't need it. Why does everyone think she needs to be on her drugs to survive? She can do whatever the fuck she needs to without them. She can quit right now if she wants to. She just does it for fun. Nothing is wrong with her. Why doesn't anyone understand that? Why is everyone looking at her like she's a house of cards? She's not fragile. She doesn't need help. Why can't anyone see that?

Ellie is fine.

Fine down to the bone. Born fine. Will die fine.

Abby disagrees with that, though.

Sees Ellie as if she's a ballerina made of glass, just waiting to combust. Thinks Ellie is this blundering hurricane swooping through states and cities with the intent to destroy. Like she's so destructive and everything she does is wrong.

Ellie knows Abby isn't the saint that she wishes she was. Knows there's blood on her ridiculously big hands and that no matter how much she tries to enforce that stupid nonchalant facade, she knows Abby is probably the same.

They are the same, Ellie tells herself. That Abby is that same calculated mess that she is, just underneath her monotone voice and expressionless face.

Abby doesn't see the similarities in them that Ellie does. She ignores Ellie when she laves over how they really are the same person when she's six shots of whiskey down. Doesn't pay her any mind. Brushes it off when Ellie says that she knows deep down Abby wants that sticky high. Wants to string herself up until there’s nothing less for her to string up. And crash and burn just for the feeling. That human feeling of coming down.

Spoiler alert: Abby is not like that, as much as Ellie is convinced that she is.

As much as Ellie wants to disagree, Abby is only brute force and quiet slips of drug-addiction rehabilitation center pamphlets. Ellie hates those.

Just blankly stares at them- advertised paradises with included expensive amenities to be at someone’s disposal as they so-called “recover”.

Ellie does not need to “recover”. She is not sick. She is not broken. She isn’t anything like that. She sometimes just needs an outlet to exude all that frustration lingering inside.

She’s not sick like those people who need to be infantilized and have pills shoved down their gussets, just so they can function like people. She’s not like that.

Ellie is fine. She’s strong. Stubborn and nothing short of dominant. She refuses to be beat down by saccharine sweet nurses until she’s nothing but weak and submissive at their hands, relying on them for sanity. She refuses to be broken down like that.

Would much rather have an example made of her- gun pointed to her temples in front of all her father’s men. Would rather be made a mockery than receive help she knows she doesn’t need.

Abby doesn’t care about how she feels about not needing help. She ignores Ellie when she babbles about how she’s not broken and sick and that she is stable. Just nods to appease her and slips another pamphlet into her office.

Leaves them behind her orange medication bottles, tapes them to the cupboard where she keeps her whiskey. Slips them into her journals where she writes down shipment numbers. Replaces her bookmarks with them.

It infuriates Ellie. To see these narrative shaping pamphlets littered throughout her life to the point where she can’t escape them. She can’t fight them because as soon as she gets rid of one, five more take their place and there’s nothing else she can do about it.

Abby infuriates her. The way she stares at Ellie makes her upset. Looking down at her with this expression that Ellie doesn’t recognize. It bothers her to no end. Looking down the slope of her nose at Ellie like there’s something wrong with her. Like she needs to be pitied and fixed. She doesn’t need that.

Ellie is capable.

But even the capable crack once pushed hard enough.

Sitting at her desk, surrounded by these self-proclaimed safe havens for recovery, Ellie feels like every bit of that erratic mess they all paint her out to be. Her fingers are itching to wrap around a whiskey glass or a pill bottle to satiate the feeling starting to boil up in her veins.

Taking a shaky breath, Ellie yanks open the drawers at her desk. No pill bottles, no alcohol, nothing but paperwork filled drawers mocking her. Her heart rate starts to kick up. She digs through the drawers frantically, looking for **anything**. It has to be here. She just had them. She needs it. Just to knock her down a few pegs. Where are they?

Her neck is starting to itch and her lungs aren’t contracting the way they need to be. Her lungs are starting to expand too far out- like they need to absorb every molecule of air in the room. It almost feels like they’re trying to expand enough to shield over her heart and her ribcage and every organ in between.

Expanding too far and not contracting enough. Her fingers are tugging through her nest of hair. It’s soaked. She drenched to the bone with sweat and she feels more sticky than she ever has in her life. Her nose is stuffy and it feels like her hands aren’t hers. Everything is too bright and she just wants a drink.

A drink or something to snort. Something to shoot up with. Something to coat her tongue in to get rid of that sour taste climbing up her throat.

She’s resorted to yanking all the papers out of their respective drawers now. Faxed papers and invoices flurrying around her office. She’s livid. Ellie swipes her arm over the vast space of her desk, sending every bit and trinket flying and crashing into the wall.

She flips her desk and starts to yank the decorations from her walls. She can’t think. Everything is too bright and too hot and her clothes feel like they’re steadily restricting around her.

When she stumbles out of her trashed office, her sights are set on one person and one person only. Her gun is shaking at her side as she screams down the hallway of her penthouse searching for Abby.

Her eyes burn. She can barely see through the fit of rage she’s plowing through.

Ellie feels like a missile locked on a target. Beelining for Abby.

Ellie’s hands wrap around Abby’s throat as tight as she can. Abby is bigger, though. But Ellie squeezes with a force that she’s never wielded towards Abby since she’s been assigned as her handler.

Abby flips her onto her back, but Ellie’s fight doesn’t diminish. She sinks her nails into Abby’s cheeks, drawing blood. Hurting her enough to make up for all of the addiction brochures. For those snide remarks telling her that she needs to get help. For staying.

Ellie Miller does not need a babysitter and never will.

Her hands drop to her belt, trying to wrangle out one of her daggers. Ellie’s blade nicks her cheek, leaving behind an inch and a half long scar on her cheekbone. Blood bubbles at the surface of the cut.

Abby is trying to restrain her. Disarm her and unclip her tactical belt. Ellie is angry. Why would Abby do that? She wanted that alcohol. She needed it. She wanted the xanax and every other uniform pill organized into their respective taunt orange little bottle. She needed those like she needed air.

Her blade lodges itself into Abby’s shoulder. She has scratches and blood dipping down her face. There’s a scar with blood seeping from it, into the thick hair of her eyebrow, trickling into her lashes and into her eye. She can barely see.

Ellie smashes their mouths together. Their teeth clank against each other. The kiss isn’t actually a kiss. It’s two dominant animals fighting for one of them to cave in and give up. Accept defeat. Fight until there’s no more fight left. One of them has to give in. Ellie doesn’t want it to be her.

Abby’s shoulder is steadily dripping blood between them. Soaking through Ellie’s white button up and into her pale skin. It’s not gentle, what they’re doing. Abby is trying to pry Ellie open until she’s submissive and Ellie wants to beat Abby down until there’s nothing left of her.

In this moment, Ellie thinks and sees Abby for what she is. They are not alike. They are two souls with two different agendas. Abby is not touching her to break her down. Abby is touching her because she wants to unravel her. She wants to see who Ellie is underneath the mess. Underneath all of the drugs and alcohol.

Their chests are heaving in tandem. Pressing against each other with every shaking breath. They pull away, spit slick and swollen lips, hesitantly parting.

Abby is sitting on her heels, now. Grimacing as she yanks the dagger out of her shoulder. She lodges the blade into the floor of the kitchen, where Ellie had yanked Abby out of her chair and onto the ground.

Their eyes meet momentarily. The world stops spinning for a moment.

And then it picks back up. Abby undoes her belt, pulling it from the loops of her jeans, yanking it off and tossing it off to the side.

“I’m not letting you fuck me,”

Ellie is blunt. She doesn't beat around the bush with things. Cuts to the chase whether you like it or not.

And Ellie refuses to let her *handler* stick a silicone cock inside of her. Not in a million years would she ever stoop that low.

Abby tuts at her and sits back on her heels. Control is important to Ellie. She reinforces her authority at the smallest things. Just waiting to act on it- like now.

Sex is an exchange of power and authority, Abby thinks. Black and white. Dominant and submissive. Simple. Not complex at all. Sex only becomes complicated when you intertwine feelings and put emphasis on the power imbalances. She prefers clean cut, straight to the chase sex.

Ellie refuses to have that kind of exchange with anyone. Comfortable in the idea of always being dominant, she doesn't find the idea of submitting to someone who was literally hired to **subdue** her. It's like the fucking mental Olympics just being pinned underneath her.

Pinned by someone of a lower status. Someone not on her level.

As much as Ellie wants to front and argue, she can't deny the sticky feeling of her boxers clinging to her skin.

Abby rolls her eyes and goes back to it, grimacing slightly as she pulls Ellie closer by the thighs. Her shoulder is still bleeding and the wound is smarting with every movement. It's bearable, for the most part.

“Do you always wear your fucking strap on you? You're real cocky.”

Ellie is so painfully Bostonian.

Accent heavy and accusatory. She’s clean-cut and functional to her core. Doesn’t like useless complications.

Abby is a complication. She doesn’t fit into Ellie’s straightforward equations. She harps on this thought too often. How Abby throws her world off kilter and churns it into things that are not just Ellie. Not just Ellie, but Ellie intertwined into Abby. It’s a sour thought. The idea makes her want to diminish it with a shot or pill to cleanse her palate. To step on it and twist her boot until it's nothing but ashes of an afterthought.

Abby grabs a foot launched towards her stomach, dropping it beside her. Her hand is warm and heavy where it wraps around Ellie’s ankle. It’s grounding. Starts to clear up the smog muddling up all of Ellie’s coherent thoughts. Her brain feels fogged like it’s not hers, but she still tries to snap at Abby. The snide comment dies on her tongue, just as quick. Wilts before it’s even given a chance to blossom over Ellie’s tongue. To leave her mouth and worm itself into Abby. To hurt and to try and inflict any kind of pain she can. Just to protect herself. To fight that submission Abby is forcing off in waves. For her own sake and dignity.

Large hands make quick work of Ellie’s belt. She reluctantly lets it happen. Fights back the nasty urge to sink her fingers into the bloody mess of Abby’s shoulder. Ellie wants to make it hurt. Make her own submission come for a cost. It’s sadistic.

Ellie wants blood for blood. Eye for an eye.

It hurts Ellie to give in that way. To rescind all of her authority. To cave in for someone whom she does not respect in any way, shape, or form. Ellie is hard all around. Roughly edged in every single way. Her edges do not soften.

Ellie does not soften. She does not gentle herself for another’s enjoyment- she does not submit and give out. Ellie takes. Yanks until there is nothing else to give. She **wants**.

Abby has singlehandedly titled her world on its own axis. Ellie does not like that. It makes her livid to think about it. That Abby is bold enough to take from Ellie instead of give.

Ellie’s hands make a sharp tug at Abby’s t-shirt. Stifles a wide toothy smile when she sees Abby wince in pain at such a simple movement. She takes pride in the fact that she’s hurt her. Abby’s white sports bra is soaked in blood. Steadily dwindling from the wound into the firm, toned lines of her arms and into the divots of her pale-skin clad ribs.

Abby’s cargo pants come off next. Worn tactical belt pulled from the fraying loops of her bottoms. They’re tugged down her thick thighs- covered in scars and moles and light blonde hair. She doesn’t shave. The contact is dizzying. The warmth of her skin bleeds through Ellie’s own pair of cargos.

Ellie mimics the action, lifting her hips underneath Abby- hand wrapped around a concealed blade as she shoves them down her legs. They sit heavy around her ankles, resting on top of her heavy boots.

Abby’s hands find Ellie’s thighs, resting her heavy palms against the faint, barely noticeable hair on Ellie’s legs. Short and spikey, like it’s been freshly shaven recently.

Their eyes lock momentarily. At this moment? Ellie starts to come to terms with them being different.

Ellie’s dagger sinks itself into Abby’s thigh. It goes in easier than it comes out. Her blood is warm against Ellie’s skin.

Abby’s not a good kisser, Ellie thinks. Their teeth clash and clang against each other. It’s not gentle. Ellie doesn’t hold any positive feelings for Abby. She’s full of hate and every single negative adjective she knows.

Abby and Ellie are like oil and water. They do not mix. They smother and smother until there’s only one left standing. They butt heads and disagree. They are like two magnets of the same pole. They do not touch. Do not connect.

Abby’s teeth are sunk into the junction between Ellie’s neck and shoulder. She bites and claws until there’s blood beading at the surface. Ellie’s hands grab at Abby’s hips, grinding her own up against the baby blue fabric of the blonde’s boxers.

The harness to Abby’s strap is peeking out of the waistband of her boxers, rubbing uncomfortably against Ellie’s skin. Ellie’s skintight briefs are clinging to her sinfully, seemingly tighter than usual. They’re sweat slick and damp where her cunt is greedily pulsing against the wet cotton.

She’s getting off on it. Enthralled by the way Abby’s blood drips onto her and pools into the expanse of her stomach. Just resting- tiny rivulets forming puddles. Abby is rough when she yanks off Ellie briefs- tossing them aside and manhandling Ellie until her knees are propped up and spread to make room for herself.

Ellie has a thick lining of hair from underneath her navel down to her sticky, wet labia. Tufts of dark curls glisten underneath the sickeningly white lights of Ellie’s one of many residencies. The unruly hair curls around her throbbing clit and the sight makes Abby’s mouth water. She’s so unapologetically Ellie.

The movement makes Abby groan quietly- the shift from her knees to her stomach, arms wrapped around Ellie’s lower half- elbow pressed against her stomach to keep her still. To restrain her. Keep her pliant and toeing the line of submission just enough for Abby to get her mouth on her.

Abby’s mouth is hot. She has no technique when she drops her head down to latch onto Ellie. She licks heavy stripes from her arousal slick hole up to her throbbing clit. Ellie writhes underneath her- hips bucking to meet Abby’s tongue. It’s uncoordinated and messy. The blonde between her thighs is enthusiastic but not skilled. Ellie’s had better.

Desperate girls begging to return the favor- dropping to their knees with puppy-like enthusiasm. Wide, starry eyes between her legs, yearning for eye contact. Upping and slowing their paces, sucking and licking, everything. Working at everything they can for a smidge of Ellie’s approval- her praise.

Abby is nothing to phone home about, though. Until she is.

Until she uses her stupidly warm, calloused thumb to pull back the hood of her oversensitive clit. Until she drags her teeth along the bundle of nerves enough to make Ellie’s thighs close around her head. Until she hollows her cheeks and sucks like there’s no tomorrow- eyes boring into Ellie’s own, silently looking for that approval. For an inkling of a sign that she’s doing a good job.

Ellie’s thighs are slick with Abby’s saliva and the wetness of her own cunt.

“Has nobody ever told you off about being a messy eater, Abigail?”

Ellie’s voice is almost steady. A breathy whine clips the retort. She can feel Abby smirk against her. She’s still sucking and dragging her teeth along Ellie’s most sensitive bits.

A finger prods at Ellie’s hole and she lets out a soft sigh at the feeling- trying to relax enough for Abby to slip in, down to the last knuckle.

She tells herself that she’s not giving herself up entirely. Not falling submissive at a few minuscule kitten licks– and an outrageous sucking strength. Ellie is not submitting to Abby. She will not let it happen. Ellie will not give herself up

She mulls over the thought like a mantra. Tries to convince herself that it’s just power play. Tries to paint it in a different light as Abby slips down to the bottom knuckles of her pointer, middle, and ring finger. Attempts to make it seem like she’s not enjoying herself and that this is just a task and she’s not close at all. That she’s not teetering on the brink of leaking heady come over Abby’s face.

Ellie’s hands find Abby’s loosely mangled braid and she tugs. Shoves her face deeper into her cunt- nose jutted up against her clit and her tongue pumping alongside three of her bizarrely thick fingers.

She groans in response to her hair being tugged. The vibrations hit Ellie from the tips of her toes to the ends of her frayed nerves. Ellie decides that the choppy vibrations of Abby’s mouth is her new favorite feeling.

Ellie’s hand dips from Abby’s hair down to her cheek, cupping it gently as she pulls Abby up. Her face is slick with three different things and Ellie thinks this is probably the most tolerable Abby has ever been in her life.

Her ring clad fingers strike Abby square against the cheek. Her head whips to the side from the force and it spurs her to kneel in between Ellie’s legs again. Yanks her flush against her muscled thighs and wrangles her legs around her hips.

Abby shoves her steadily darkening blue boxers down her thighs, just enough for the flesh colored strap pulled into her harness smacks against her lower stomach. The straps sit against her hips.

Sweat beads at her hairline, slowly dripping down the bridge of her nose.

She tosses Ellie’s leg over her shoulder, palm pressed flat against her lower stomach as she lines herself up.

She’s not gentle when she pushes in. It’s wet and messy and one fluid thrust. Ellie chokes underneath her- still teetering on that ledge between release and edging- nails scrambling to grab at her arms. Ellie’s nails sink into her biceps, leaving behind angry, red crescent shaped marks that’ll scar if she sinks in any deeper.

Abby is rougher now. Like Ellie is only a hole to be conquered. To be used. Her hips snap up against Ellie’s backside and her hand presses heavily against her stomach.

Her hands wrap around Ellie’s throat and that’s their breaking point. It turns to true violence, then. Ellie yanks Abby down even further, wrapping her own hands around Abby’s neck.

Eye for an eye.

Her fingers press into her airways with just enough force to dwindle her air capacity to almost nothing. It’s easy. It’s easier to hurt Abby than to try and think about how Ellie is letting her take control of her like it’s nothing. Like it’s a simple off handed motion.

Abby’s very existence is something that severely troubles Ellie. Every single glass table christmas flurry of white powder isn’t enough to blanch out the thought and presence of Abby. Clean credit card lines of ivory wouldn’t dissipate the nagging brochures of recovery lingering around Ellie’s mansions and penthouses.

Pill cocktails wouldn’t fix it either. It’s like a rinse and repeat cycle that’s only gotten worse since Abby has appeared.

Abby watches her peak silently from the shadows. Watches her scrape together bits and pieces of drugs that don’t belong together just to feel- but most mostly? To coke herself out so far that she doesn’t have to wallow in her envy and unbridled hatred and disdain for Abigail Anderson.

Abby sees the worst of it. Lurking not far behind in secluded VIP club lounges, she sees when Ellie start to tumble down. When the drugs start to wear and she’s left frazzled. Sees her when she’s too far gone out of her mind and starts to project everything onto Abby. Witnesses when her hands are shaky and fumbling to grab a glass.

Pinned underneath her like a butterfly to be examined, Ellie feels like the roles are reversed. Like Abby was seeking out to hurt her instead of the other way around. Ellie told herself that this was nothing more than a display of power. Power play. All it is.

Ellie went into it looking to hurt her. Physically, mentally, any way she could. But, Ellie feels like it’s all blown up in her face. She feels like she’s been stripped to bone with nothing else to give. She feels sobered. The feeling of Abby’s eyes eyeing her down feels akin to the feeling of the fall before the crash. Sobering, fast, unwelcome.

It’s hard to focus on that when Abby’s thumbing at her clit with no care for how overstimulating she’s being and plowing into her cunt with force that Ellie didn’t know she could muster.

Ellie’s hand strikes her cheek again and it spurs Abby on to move quicker. Her heavy hands are holding Ellie’s hips, tilting up her pelvis enough to get deeper.

It’s wet, messy, and animalistic. Like Abby is giving into every carnal urge she’s ever had. Plowing and fucking like her mind is on a one track and can’t fathom to think about anything else.

Her thoughts right now are strictly Ellie.

Ellie, Ellie, Ellie.

And Ellie’s thoughts? She has never hated Abby more than she has in this moment now.

–

Abby sees it all.

Sees you at the peak of your mania and the throes of your lowest. Being around her is like a mental game of cat-and-mouse.

She watches you with the gaze of someone who knows far too much—someone who has learned not just your patterns, but your rhythms. The slight tremor in your hand when you haven’t slept. The edge in your voice when your thoughts are racing. The withdrawn silence when the world has become too loud. The vacant look in your eyes when the absence of Ellie gnaws at your soul. She sees it all.

But Abby doesn’t just observe—she calculates.

It’s not malicious, at least not overtly. That’s part of the confusion. Abby doesn’t intervene. She makes note of it, silently. What she does is far more insidious: she positions herself as the one who acts as that silent crutch, and then she exploits that position. Intentionally or not. Weaves herself in under the guise of Ellie’s stand-in, doing whatever she supposedly must to fill her position and do whatever Ellie tells her to.

When you’re manic, she enables you. Leans into your individualism, spurs you on. Charged looks and nasty innuendos laid into seemingly innocent sentences and phrases.

On one hand, she’s the only person who’s seen all of you besides Ellie—the spiraling highs, the bone-deep lows. On the other hand, she holds that knowledge like a weapon behind her back, ready to wield it when you step out of line. Uses it to keep you on your toes. Uses it to flirt and then place a wall to wedge space between you. Calls it “professionalism”.

And you do step out of line, often. That’s part of your pattern. Toe the line of what's allowed and what isn't.

The cost is subtle erosion. Of your confidence. Of your independence. Of your reality.

She pities you. She studies you. She molds herself around your wounds, not to heal them—but to keep them open.

Like Ellie, Abby enables you.

It's a hard road to tread.

Right now? You feel like you're stuck in limbo. Pulled taut in between Ellie and Abby. You're indebted to Ellie. Always. She did what nobody else would do for you.

Took you in, fed, bathed, clothed, employed. Loved.

But Abby?

You owed nothing to her. She enabled your singularity- that urge to be your own person. To carve yourself out of the picture that Ellie has painted you into. To break out of that Ellie-induced stupor that you’ve been stuck in all this time.

Ellie and Abby are two sides of the same spectrum. Low and high. Depression and mania. Hell and heaven.

They meet you in the middle there. Pulled taut in between them, you are like purgatory.

To Ellie, you are nothing but an extension.

And to Abby, you are you. Nothing of Ellie. Despite the disgusting parallels that she cannot quite see.

-

this silly little chapter is dedicated to my evil evil consciousness on my shoulder and nightmare in my brain. u kno who u are xx

taglist: [cmnt to be added/removed]: @pantherism @mabermaple @starrdelight @vahnilla @elliesfavtoy @sulliefimmie @oneinameliann @eriiwaiii2 @l0veylace @valeisaslut @slutforabbyanderson @hitmehardmommy @billiegabbysyd @the-sick-habit @azxteria @piercedome @crucifiedfem

[simplyseveredslut]

Could u do virgin Clark x virgin reader? Thank you!

for the first time

summary: Clark’s nervous about telling you it’s his first time, but little does he know it’s also yours

a/n: lowkey the window pic has nothing to do with the fic I was STRUGGLING to find images that made sense. also my titles for my works are trash im sorry 💔 anyways I loved this request and hope it’s what you had in mind!

warnings: p in v sex, baseline smut

—————————————————————————

It’s an innocent set that he almost feels guilty for finding so devastatingly sexy - polka dotted cotton fabric lined with intricate lace at the hems. The way they cling perfectly to your form like they were made for you, he’s convinced you were made for him. Like god moulded an angel and set her in front of him.

“You’re staring, clark,” you nervously chuckle, a soft one that barely makes any noise at all. You cross your arms over your chest, increasingly aware that he can see you, all of you. when he doesn’t speak, sitting on the edge of the bed just looking at you, you squeak out a regretful “I can go chan-“, the sentence doesn’t fully leave your mouth when clark, Almost on instinct like a reflex he’s born with, reaches out to grab your wrist, releasing your grip around your front and pulling you towards him.

“Nonono,” he pulls you onto his lap, legs straddling his sides. Jesus, he’s so fucking nervous.

“You’re just,” he runs his fingers softly down your stomach, as if tracing a vein pattern only he can see. He does it with the most delicate touch, like he’s handling a famous art piece he’s scared of damaging. “You’re so beautiful.”

suddenly breaking the confident pattern that seemed so natural for him, he retracts his hands from your skin and he swallows like he’s thinking. it makes your stomach hurt.

“what’s wrong?” you furrow your brow, leaning away from him. “we don’t have to-“

“no, fuck- no,” he breathes, pulling you back toward him. “i want to, i want to so much, I just,” he stops, his face crinkling, “I’ve never done this before.” he’s humiliated - you’re so pretty, so perfect - there’s no reason you shouldn’t get up to leave now. but when you softly smile, placing both hands on his cheeks and mutter, “me neither,” time stops.

“I’ve never really wanted to, I was never sure about anyone enough to give that much of myself to someone,” you explain, running your fingers down the sides of his cheeks where his stubble is beginning to poke through. “but with you, Clark I’m so sure.”

he’s going to explode. he’s almost sure of it. to know how comfortable you are with him, to know how much you trust and love him, he falls even deeper in love with you - which he didn’t even think was possible. “I’ve never been so sure of anything.” you repeat.

“I love you so much,” he breathes, stroking your cheek.

there’s a beat, and then you beat him to the words.

“it’s okay, clark. you can touch me,” you assure him, stroking his cheek in return with your thumb.

—————————————————————————

“so big, clark,” you gasp, convinced his cock is pressing all the way in to your stomach. “so deep.”

“yeah? feels good?” he searches your face for approval, receiving it when you tip your head back as he slightly shifts, girth pushing against your walls.

“mhm, feels so good,” you breathe. “move, please. need it, need it so bad.” you plead, and he is more than happy to oblige. he starts slow, almost hesitant, you feel it in his slow movements.

“faster, clarkie. y’aren’t gonna break me. promise. i can take it.”

afraid he’ll cum just hearing your voice, asking so nicely for him, he quickens his pace. his length sliding in and out of your entrance, met with slight resistance each time. you’re so tight, it makes his jaw fall slack at the pressure when he enters and your pussy clenches around him. the sound of him slamming into you becomes a more frequent hurried tempo - his balls slapping against you in harmony with the squelching of your folds.

“can’t hold on much longer, sweetheart,” he pants, not breaking his stride. his head is craned down to the crook of your neck, breath tickling your skin. “can- can i” he doesn’t know how to say it. his brain is so fuzzy, judgement so clouded, that the only thing running through his brain is youyouyou.

“yes, please, yes- I’m ready,” you cry, digging your nails into his shoulder muscles. in one last thrust he’s whimpering - cum filling you to the brim. he goes limp, collapsing on top of you. You both instinctively wrap your arms around one another, as if scared the other will disappear. you both let out shaky, labored breaths as you come down from your high, together, in each others arms.

“i love you, love you so much,” he breathes, smushing a kiss to your temple. “thank you for letting me have you like this, all of you.”

[maripoorsa]

OP didn't say Americans deserve to suffer.

OP is saying that the people suffering at the hands of America deserve better.

And as a native american/mexican queer person on Medicaid who relies on snap and has a disability along with undiagnosed heart issues let me just confirm: op is right.

I'd much rather live through the USA collapsing than living to see it commit more genocide, perpetuate more racism, let more people die because they couldn't afford America's healthcare, disable even more people, take away more rights, send more bombs to people who kill children, wage more unnecessary wars that innocent people will die in, etc.

To think that our privileges built on the backs of global suffering shouldn't collapse is nothing but privilege. Especially when you're only thinking about how that collapse will personally harm you and people like you

Americans have privileges a lot of the world won't ever know in this lifetime, even the poorest of us. And it's from our place of privilege that I know we will very, very likely be perfectly fine in the event of the USA collapsing. We'd certainly be better off than most other people would be if their country collapsed.

But because it serves OP's point, let's not ignore the way you listed gun violence as a way Americans suffer but the first line of your self-absorbed reblog is completely dismissive about non-Americans being killed by the gun violence of trained American professionals for the last 250 years.

Cuz that is exactly the shit OP is talking about.

The entire rest of the world deserves better than suffering and exploitation at the hands of a country who's people don't give a shit about them.

I deserve the world. I deserve freedom and liberation and healthcare and I deserve to wake up knowing I am safe. I deserve to live in a place free of bombings, international exploitation, and international oppression.

But so does everyone else.

Not just the people in the USA.

And Americans do not deserve to have privileges and comfort and safety at the cost of anyone else despite what the nationalist white supremacist propaganda we are fed daily would have us believe.

So if the USA is one of the largest obstacles for most people to attain those things then guess what?

It deserves to collapse.

We will all be better for it.

I personally hate the idea that even without a job and with my trans gf making barely enough wages to cover our rent Im able to live in income-based housing with AC in a soft bed free from the worry of bombs hitting us because my comforts were bought with blood and so much military power that it's the bulk of our annual budget.

I hate that when my snap benefits run out I can go to the local food bank or church and get enough food to last until I can buy food again while the USA burns food aid intended for Palestine. While it guts it's contributions to organizations like UNWRA. While it lets children starve in a famine.

I hate that even my Medicaid has Gazan and indigenous blood all over it and it's disgusting that we all walk around acting like it's normal!

We all act like its acceptable! Americans act like somehow we would be the ones getting hurt if our government collapsed, as if keeping even the possibility of being hurt is worth the millions and millions of lives it takes to keep America running every year while never ever thinking about the lives it would save.

But it's not acceptable! It's not normal!

My comforts today were bought with the lives of my ancestors yesterday. Do you know how awful it is to survive one genocide just to see the same country aiding and abetting another one just a couple generations later? On people that look just like you? Just like your ancestors? Knowing that the the full amount of pain and impact won't even be measurable for decades to come?? Do you know what it's like to pick up the scraps of culture trying to piece a connection together then watching the country you live in do it to someone else and knowing that despite how much pain in theyre in now, it will continue to get worse long after the killing stops?

Do you have any fucking idea the lengths that I would go to stop all of that from happening ever again?

I know in my fucking bones that there is not an a single American on the entire earth that's worth letting the USA continue to exist.

We are not worth the lives it takes for us to live this way.

Are you not absolutely disgusted by the things America has done in your name?

I am.

Are Americans supposed to just suffer and die if the country collapses

You'll figure it out.

So far for the entirety of your country's existence you've made others in the rest of the world suffer and die for your wealth, and they've had to just figure it out too.

Maybe once you guys collapse into civil war and get too busy with your own shit to interfere in the rest of the world we can start building a world without the CIA slaughtering everybody who wants to build a society without capitalism.

If you ever read ANYTHING about the left in ANY country you know how destructive the USA has been. You have brought nothing but death and destruction, and while it sucks for the people living there currently, it can only be a positive thing for the world if America perishes.

[prettyyangelll]

Could you possibly make a dbf fic where Aaron is so desperate on breeding reader and he insist that reader starts using birth control. But he couldn’t wait anymore so he fucked your raw? Pretty pleaseeee

Yessss my beautiful angel!! i hope you guys like this, im convinced aaron is a freak!! fight me on it.

Birth Control | dbf!aaronhotchner x reader

summary: Aaron couldn’t wait until you were on birth control, he needed you now.

warning: p in v, riding, slightly jerking off, thigh riding, nipple play, dry humping, cream pie, rough fucking, dirty talk, slut shaming, a little bit of degrading, breeding kink, mentions of getting reader pregnant

It’s been a couple of months now since your secret relationship with your dad’s best friend has started. He would come over often, even when your dad was home but kept it friendly of course. But when your dad was not home, I don’t think any of that was friendly.

The sex was great. Honestly. You loved it, you never have had someone make you cum that many times in a row and who even knew you could squirt? He would spend almost every day after work at your house just ‘checking in’ but he would do a lot more than just that.

You both have often texted. Well the rule was ‘Let me Text first’ just in case someone had his phone or he was on a case. He didn’t need to get caught like this. Technically nothing was wrong but morally everything was wrong. He didn’t need the ten to hear about this not at all.

You were sitting on your bed after you had just got home from work, your dad was on another work call which didn’t really bother you that much. You were lying on your tummy as you scrolled through your phone, until a message popped up.

Aaron 🤍:

Hi, sweetheart. I’m on my way back to the hotel. I’ll call you when I’m there.

You smiled as you read the message. You kicked your feet as you waited for that phone call. You loved how he always made sure to make time for you. But in a different way. It was more then just I have to do this, he did it because he wanted too. And you loved that.

It didn’t take long for him to call you. You smiled as you picked up the phone and put your hand behind your ear. You had no idea when he was going to be back but him being all the way across the word it felt like made you sick to your stomach.

“Hi sweetheart” Aaron said, his voice was slick and smooth and it made you want to melt. You smiled and you closed your eyes and fell on to your bed. “How was work?” He asked you.

“Busy and boring. But I’m glad you’re calling me. How is the case?” You asked as you looked down at your nails. You cared for Aaron more than just sex. You looked up to him and loved him more than anything.

“Rough. But we’re almost done. But that’s not what I wanted to call you about.” Aaron said as he disregarded your question. You smiled as you were waiting for him to speak. “I need to ask you a question. Are you on birth control?” He asked you.

The question was random. It taken you back a little. You let out a tiny laugh. Every girl around your age was on it but you never bothered because you weren’t that sexually active. Hook ups every once in a while but not enough to be on it.

“No. Never really had the reason to be on it” You said as you relied a piece of your hair and shrugged your shoulders. You sat the phone down and put him on speaker.

“I want you on it” Aaron said, his voice stern as he listened to you. He felt a sort of proud feeling that you weren’t. That no one was able to use you enough to even make you be on it.

“Why? You don’t want to get me pregnant?” You joked, you kinda liked the feeling of being the one to carry Aaron’s kids. It made you feel good at the thought of that. You felt a familiar wetness in your panties.

“As much as I would want to be my kids in you, we can’t have that. So I need you on it.” Aaron said as he leaned back in his chair. The thought of fucking you and spilling his warm seed in you turned him on. His pants got a little tighter as he closed his eyes.

“I’ll get on it. It might take a while though. Can you wait?” You asked with a smile. The thought of him coming home and cumming in your right away turned you on so much.

“You better hope I can” Aaron said with a smile, the smile that he didn’t use often but more when he was with you. The rest of the night was filled with small conversation until you fall asleep.

The next couple of days were like normal. You and Aaron had your nightly phone call just like normal as you were waiting for him to come home. You smiled as he called you that morning telling you that he was coming home and he would see you later in the day.

That day you took a shower you went along with your routine, just minding your own business. Later on that night, you sat on the couch as you were waiting for Aaron to stop by. When you heard the door knob turn you turned around and you smiled. Aaron stepped through the doorway.

You couldn’t contain your excitement as you ran over to him and kissed him happily his hands found a familiar spot on your waist and pulled you into him. The kiss was soft and sweet, but mixed with a gentle need to it.

“I missed you” You smiled, as you pulled away from the kiss and looked at him in the eyes he smiled and kissed the top of your head. His cologne filled your nose and it made you want to melt in his arms.

“I missed you more, baby” Aaron said, as he gave your waist a squeeze as he pulled you to sit with him on the couch you smiled as you snuggled into him closer as he wrapped his arm around your waist, and you leaned your head into him.

“I’m glad you’re back. This have been very boring” You said with a small smile as you watched the TV. The volume was down just a tad, but you could tell what was still going on. You had barely paid attention to it, and you just looked at it as you waited for Aaron to respond.

“Me too. I was thinking about you constantly” Aaron said, as he gave your waist a squeeze and kissed your temple. This is what you needed. This is what you were waiting for. You didn’t care about anything else you only cared about him. And you liked that it was wrong. It made you keep coming back to him.

“That’s so cute” You said with a smile as you leaned over and kissed his cheek. You moved over to sit in his lap, and you kissed him once again, your lips both moved in sync as you melted into him. He swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You opened your mouth slightly as you let his tongue explore your mouth. Both of your tongue fighting for dominance, and you knew he was gonna win. Either way you moaned as his tongue went inside your mouth, licking around and feeling you.

You softly rolled your hips as you felt him get harder under you. Your panties were soaked at this point, and you didn’t care. You couldn’t help but feel his hard cock growing through the tiny fabric of your shorts. His hands moved up and down your sides as it squeezed your ass, pulling you into him more. 

“Daddy” You whined softly as you continue to roll your hips on his lap fighting for any friction you could possibly get. He grounded as he felt you whine against him and continued to move your hips on him.

“Yeah baby? What do you need?” Aaron asked as his lips Trail down your jaw as he went to your neck, kissing and licking the soft skin. 

“Need you to fuck me daddy please” you whimpered as you rolled your hips a little faster. You wanted to feel him inside of you. You wanted him to fuck you so good that you couldn’t walk for days?.

“You on the pill?” He asked you as you could feel his hands Trail up and grope your breast. You weren’t even wearing a bra and that made your sensitive nipples so overstimulated at the touch of his fingers. He moved his hands and went under your shirt and squeeze the fat on your chest.

“No daddy. Didn’t have time” you whined. It was true you were busy with work and you didn’t have time to go to the doctor Stephen bother to get on the pill plus you didn’t care you wanted him to breed you. You wanted him to cum inside of you.

“Don’t care. Guess you’re gonna have to deal with the consequences. I want you to ride me. I want to feel you shake when my cum is spilling inside of you” Aaron said. His words made your whole entire body shake. You whined as you grabbed his hair and pulled him into you. “Yeah you like that? You like being a slur for your dad’s best friend?” Aaron asked you.

“Yes daddy! I’m such a slut” You repeated, you couldn’t even tell the words you were repeated they just fell from your lips as you continued to hump him. You lifted up your hands and took off your shirt and you were left with only in your shorts and underwear you wanted him to be inside of you now.

“That’s a good girl. You know what you are. Take this off.” Aaron said, as he pointed to your shorts and you did just that you took off your shorts and panties with one quick move from your hands, and you got back on him rubbing your bear Cunt on his pants.

“Daddy please fuck me” You whimpered as you couldn’t stop your hips from rolling faster and faster. You found him get harder and harder underneath you and all you wanted was for him to completely ruin you.

“You sound so sweet begging for me.” Aaron said as he continued to kiss all over your neck your hands found his pants buckle. You struggled as you tried to undo his pants, and he only laughed at you. “Your to dumb to undue daddy’s pants huh baby girl?” Aaron said as he mocked you. You could only whine and nod your head as you felt Aaron put your hands away, and he did it on his own.

He took his cock out, and you felt your mouth drool at the side of him. His cock was much bigger than you’ve ever had before, and it made you get wetter wetter as you started to hump his thigh. He leaned his head back as he watched you hump his thigh and slowly take his cock in your tiny hands. To be able to fully jerk him off you needed to use two hands.

“Daddy so big” You whined as you looked up at him with your big pitiful eyes. You continue to milk his cock as pre-come as leaving the tip. He was going to come, just watching the site of you barely being able to jerk off his cock and humping his thigh. He grabbed your hand to make you stop.

“Stop. I need to cum in you. Get on my cock” Aaron said, you nodded your head as you went to grab his hand and held it as you slowly entered yourself on his cock.

You whined at the sudden big stretch. Just looking at it you knew he was going to be in your stomach by the end of this. When you finally say down on all of his cock, you held his hand tighter as you bought him out his other hand was gripping your hip, waiting for you to make a move when you were ready.

“You’re so right, sweetheart. Never had a cunt this right before”aaron said, as he gripped the flesh on your ass and waited for you to continue to move, he kiss up and down your neck, waiting for you to get comfortable when you started to move up and down, he grow as his hands squeezed your ass. “Fuck baby just like that” Aaron said. You whined out as you contuined to bounce faster.

“Fuck daddy feels so good!” You whined as you went faster. Aaron took one of your tits that was bouncing in his face and sucked on the nipple as his hand on your ass smacked it you jolted up as you continue to go faster.

“Yeah baby? Keep going fuck yourself on daddy’s cock baby” Aaron said as he let go of your nipple and watched you as your eyes roll back as you continued to move on his fat cock. You were incomplete ecstasy as you felt his tip brush your G spot. You could feel them all the way in your stomach.

“So big daddy! Cock is so big!” You moaned out as your nails gripped into his shoulder blades he didn’t care if they were gonna leave bruises he just wanted to feel you, feel you come around his cock, and come inside of you. He leaned back on the couch as his hand came around and started to rub figure 8s in your clit. 

“Yeah? You gonna be a slut and cum on your dad’s best friend cock? How would you feel if he came home right now and saw you bouncing on a man twice your age cock? He wouldn’t like that huh?” Aaron said, his words felt so wrong, but it pushed you over the edge as you felt a familiar not in your stomach tighten.

“Gonna cum! Cumming daddy!” You whimpered as you felt yourself come undone on his cock he smiled as he gripped the flesh of your ass as he watched you collapse on top of it.

“Did such a good job baby. But daddy’s not done with you yet” aaron said as he lighted you up slightly. You looked down as he biceps tensed up. He started to thrust up inside of you. You whined as your poor over stimulated cunt was still getting destroyed. “Just like that, you’re doing such a good job letting daddy use you. You want daddy to cum in your pussy?” He asked as he looked up at you.

“Breed my pussy daddy please!” You whined as you felt his hard rough thrust get sloppier. He was about to cum any second now and your cunt was welcoming him in.

“Daddy’s gonna breed this pussy. Make you carry his children. You’re gonna look so good with a swollen belly.” Aaron said as he contuined to fuck himself into you. His words made you dumb as you put your head on his shoulder as his thrust got even sloppier. “Daddy’s cumming” he groaned as you felt his warm speed spill all inside of you. When he finished riding of his high he smiled as he kissed your head.

“You better buy me a plan b tomorrow” you mumbled as you collapsed on top of him. 

[ivysprophecy]

white wine

a/n: um... i was drunk and thought of this and needed to get it out of my system thats all. please enjoy <3

he was so perfect.

i'd somehow managed to convince clark to come out for drinks after work today and he was still in that slutty little white button down that made me act like a panther in heat. it sure didn't help that hed undone the first two buttons and rolled the sleeves up, and it was a bit looser from being worn throughout the day.

his hair was mussed up from running his hands through it exasperated every time i ordered another drink, but he wasn't mad at all. no. how could he ever be mad at me?

my cheeks flushed from my drunken state, hair fluffy from whipping my head in every direction while being extra enthusiastic in conversation.

i hadn't meant to get this drunk. that was the truth.

but you know how it can be after a long day at work. when one glass of wine turns into half the bottle. getting to relax, loosen up a little and let go. you get a little giggly, maybe a bit more affectionate.

it just so happened that white wine was my kryptonite.

"honey don't you think its time we head home? you made me promise to have you home by eleven," clark, ever the lover man, was desperate to do as i asked. admittedly it was for selfish reasons but that doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things.

"oh but we're having so much fun! c'mon just one more glass and then we can go- i promise!"

yea that promise wasn't worth anything. and clark knew that.

"its getting late honey. you made me promise to have you home by eleven and tomorrow when you're more level headed you'll be upset that you stayed out so late. you wanted to get a head start on that piece about the nurse's strike at the hospital?"

a pout immediately formed on my lips. "but i don't wanna go home, that means the fun stops."

clark leans forward to whisper in my ear even though the bar isn't that loud, and i could smell his cologne that makes me want to grab him by the collar and pull him down to me, "the fun doesn't have to stop honey. just wanna get you home safe."

that put a pump in my brakes.

"clark kent are you suggesting what i think you are? in public?" did i have to egg him on? no. did i enjoy it? every second.

"i'm trying to get you home and in bed, take that however you will," his smile was small. from any outside perspective he'd look utterly and completely innocent.

that's the thing about clark, being dominant never meant about being controlling or rough or demanding for him. it was simply a matter of he knew what i needed and he was more than happy to provide. hes a gentlemen first and foremost. gentle. soft. a soft dom.

"you're very good with persuasion," screw being here now. i wanted to go home. but i had to make it a little bit more fun. "let me go close my tab," i stood up from my seat when his hand found its home at the curve of my waist.

"taken care of already. lets get you home yea?" he quirked his eyebrow up at me with a little smirk, "i'll make it worth your while honey. i promise?"

"i never questioned that clark, let me just go say goodbye to lois and-" i was rudely interrupted when he bent in front of me so my waist met his shoulder as he lifted me off the ground and waved to our friends politely before proceeding to carry my out of the bar. "clark!"

to say im shocked is an understatement. clark was a subtle man. PDA was never his forte, not because he didn't like it, but because it just felt disrespectful for him to use my touches as a sign to others. it was more intimate than that for him.

so him carrying me out of a bar? unheard of. until tonight it seems.

"problem sweetheart?" he called over his shoulder. i could hear that smile in his voice and all i could do was laugh. because im in disbelief AND drunk.

"nope. no complaints," i giggled softly pinching his behind making him jump a little.

"cut that out-" he begged with a sigh that held no malice.

i just giggled more until he reached my car setting me down in front of the passenger door. my cheeks heated as i looked up to see that special mushy look in his eyes thats reserved for just me.

"are you gonna behave yourself on the way home so i can drive?"

that brought a pout to my face, "not even a little rubbing?" god i must be so far gone. i hated being a messy drunk i always felt so embarrassed the next day.

but he just chuckled opening the passenger door for me, "not tonight honey. tomorrow though? ill be all yours.

[ghostofbambifanfiction]

is there anyyyy chance we can get another c70 snippet for CYOA even though you've been keeping us so well fed already :)) (im a greedy impatient little rat rubbing my claws together)

Have the whole first scene. The Zoom call scene is giving me major trouble and I know it'll come right in the end but sometimes this happens and I get blocked and I have to go and work on something else to get un-blocked. Hence noob. But yeah. First scene. Under the cut. Go nuts and use protection.

Private WhatsApp Chat Resumed: Tuesday 29th March, 2022, 00:06 Members: Lily Evans, James Potter

================================

Lily Evans: I'm meant to be getting ready for work but I'm distracted because I'm so excited about tonight and this is the third time in a row that I've walked into the kitchen and forgotten what I went in there for. Just letting you know that this is the woman you've chosen to pitch your tent with, as it were. I hope you're sleeping, though!

James Potter: 'fraid not, my sweet

Lily Evans: Up after midnight, I see. What WOULD your mother think?

James Potter: she'd think something deeply uncomplimentary, yet i roam the night like the maverick i am also i wanted to be able to say good morning to you when you woke up so good morning

Lily Evans: Oh, I SEE

James Potter: see what?

Lily Evans: Your hypocrisy (affectionate)

James Potter: lol am i in trouble?

Lily Evans: Well, yes, James, because you wouldn't let ME stay up late to wait for you last night!

James Potter: because YOU had work in the morning!

Lily Evans: The double standard you apply is appalling, quite frankly.

James Potter: have a heart, evans do you know how many eerie cardboard cutouts are knocking around in this house? taylor lautner scared the shit out of me when i got up to go to the loo last night i've hidden him under my bed for the sake of my sanity, but what if i go to sleep and he comes to life in the darkness and kills me? kills me dead

Lily Evans: There's no full moon for another couple of weeks, so I think you'll be safe from Taylor Lautner.

James Potter: if i was a cruel man i'd tell sirius you said that and then you'd have to put up with a lengthy rant on twilight lore and learn why a full moon is not in fact relevant to taylor lautner's particular brand of lycanthropy

Lily Evans: If you were a cruel man, we would not be together and the dream I had last night would have been VERY different.

James Potter: oh?

Lily Evans: Yes OH

James Potter: you had a dream? about little old me?

Lily Evans: I did.

James Potter: what happened in it?

Lily Evans: What do you think happened in it?

James Potter: i'd rather you told me

Lily Evans: Then as much as I'd love to tell you that it was unadulterated filth, the truth is it was actually pretty mushy.

James Potter: even better

Lily Evans: Really?

James Potter: yeah of course not that i wouldn't be powerless to resist you if you only wanted to use me for my body like i was your slutty little errand boy

Lily Evans: Hot

James Potter: but i'd be pretty gutted if that was the sole basis of my appeal

Lily Evans: I didn't fall for you because you're a hot piece of ass, I promise. I mean, it helped. It's plagued me. It's kept me up at night. But that wasn't why. You know that wasn't why.

James Potter: i know or at least, i'm slowly getting used to it trying to remember to believe it surreal as it still seems

Lily Evans: I can keep reminding you, if you want.

James Potter: i won't turn reminders down if you're offering, but don't feel like you have to go out of your way

Lily Evans: Did you really have NO idea that I had feelings for you until just recently? Because honestly, I remember looking back over our texts after we fell out and feeling so humiliated about how obvious I'd been about it. When I was in Paris I was convinced that you knew how I felt and hadn't told me about Skylar out of pity.

James Potter: i guess the simple answer is no? i didn't know but then when i asked remus to ask beatrice if you did have feelings for me and she denied it, i felt angry about it in a way that didn't really make sense like i'd been misled somehow so now that i think about it, i think i was aware of it on a completely instinctual level, but i wrote it off as my own stupid hopefulness then we had that fight and i was convinced that you definitely WEREN'T interested but then we made up and a day or two later it started to feel possible again idk why, really

Lily Evans: Could it possibly have something to do with the fact that even though I had some valid gripes about the excuses Remus fed me, I was still disproportionately upset about you getting some other girl off?

James Potter: i think you were justified to be as upset as you were but maybe? whatever it was, i'd started to feel a bit hopeful again, and then you showed me your tattoo and then i sort of knew

Lily Evans: You know what's actually quite funny about that?

James Potter: ?

Lily Evans: It's only because of Skylar that I even showed you that tattoo in the first place.

James Potter: really??

Lily Evans: I'd stalked her online and she was so, you know

James Potter: what?

Lily Evans: She's just very Out There, I guess? In a way that I admire, like good for her, honestly, it's very Beatrice of her and not routinely something I'm ever jealous of because other women aren't more attractive than I am to spite me. But she had all those pretty selfies and bendy yoga poses and was just like, effortlessly beachy and provocative in a way that I just can't be because I'm not that flexible and I could burn beneath a 4 watt bulb, and there were hundreds of thirsty comments from drooling wanking disgusting aubergine emoji-toting men, and I've never been That, you know? It's why it upsets me so much when Kingsley tells me I'm adorable, or pretty in a virtuous Sunday school teacher kind of way, because I'd never really found myself confronted with anything that refuted that, I've never truly believed that I could be an object of lust to anybody. But I really wanted you to see me that way.

James Potter: i've always seen you that way i think you're every kind of gorgeous there is, but even i don't know what the hell kingsley's been getting at yeah, you could wear a long white gown and stand pensively on a clifftop with the wind billowing in your hair and look like a princess in a storybook, and some renaissance artist should DEFINITELY paint you on the ceiling of a chapel but you are HOT AND, you've been my sole masturbation fantasy for as long as i've known you

Lily Evans: WHAT REALLY?

James Potter: yeah, i'm pathetically loyal to the women i pine over

Lily Evans: REALLY though??

James Potter: i want you VERY badly, evans on your back, on all fours, on my face it's not going to stop

Lily Evans: Not even once you've had me?

James Potter: i'll want you more

Lily Evans: God, you keep making my knees weak.

James Potter: good, that's all i've ever aspired to

Lily Evans: I want you too, you know. I want you all the time, so much I can feel it everywhere, it's like it's clinging to me and won't come off. URGH I wish we could have our Zoom call now and I didn't have to go to stupid WORK!

James Potter: do you have to leave now?

Lily Evans: Pretty much, yeah. This caterer who wants to be featured on the site is wooing your mum with a fancy breakfast and she's turned it into a morning social event for the staff, so I said I'd get in by 8:45 to see that it's all set up properly, which means I'm already late. Might order an Uber tbh.

James Potter: you do too much for her

Lily Evans: She pays me pretty well for it.

James Potter: though i suppose you do get a lovely breakfast out of the deal and i want that for you you deserve treats

Lily Evans: Sure, except I'll be having breakfast with your mother and thinking non-stop about how the only treat I really want right now is to sit on your face.

James Potter: give it a few months and we can start so many of our mornings that way

Lily Evans: REALLY?

James Potter: i did say you deserved to be feasted on, didn't i?

Lily Evans: You do realise that I need to be physically able to LEAVE the house, right? I can't very well swoon my way to the office. Not in these heels, anyway.

James Potter: do i get a hall mirror selfie before you leave?

Lily Evans: I'll send a selfie if you will.

James Potter: <image attachment>

Lily Evans: GOD THANK YOU* for once again being SHIRTLESS** *I just bit my own tongue **please ALWAYS be shirtless

James Potter: i usually am when i'm at home i don't wander around in public like this i promise

Lily Evans: I must reiterate that I really DID fall for you because you're a wonderful person, I swear

James Potter: it's enough that you fell for me at all at least it will be, once i've gotten the selfie i was promised

Lily Evans: Fair warning, I'm fully dressed.

James Potter: it's alright, i'm imagining you naked most of the time anyway

Lily Evans: <image attachment>

James Potter: fucking hell

Lily Evans: What?

James Potter: you're just you're so fuck lily you need to get going for work NOW before i crack and make you get yourself off again

Lily Evans: What if I want you to make me?

James Potter: LILY

Lily Evans: Okay okay I'm going!

[mifvyfilms]

THIRD STATEMENT.

now i HOPE this is the FINAL time i have to say something about this situation because i’m TIRED. 🤬🤬

please stay true to your word and never message me or my mutuals again. we don’t want to see you in our inbox leaving a rude comment or just being straight up disrespectful. that makes me feel guilty because i didn’t want you to attack anybody else in the first place.

i hope i don’t have to brace myself/take a deep breath every time i open wp or tumblr while being on vacation or just in general. just because you have ‘problems’ going on in your life doesn’t mean you should’ve said the things you said.

i’m still a little baffled at your ‘apology,’ but you know what, i don’t hold grudges, so i’ll forgive you—but i obviously won’t forget your harsh words✌️

i’m sure you had your ‘fun’ attacking me, my bbg lauv on wp, the majority of my moots and their moots on wp, AND half of the people i talk to on tumblr. stay on twitter. i still love you—and always will. ❤️

ANYWAYS!! doikg a little q&a/replying to what you told me🤪🤪🤪

1. “Why don’t you take 1.20 seconds to say thank you to ALL your comments?”

bc sometimes i don’t see ALL my comments. and i got a life outside of these apps now what. 😐

2. “You only talk to people with a large following bc they’ll “benefit” you.”

FYI, I REPLY TO ALMOST ALL OF MY COMMENTS. BIG OR SMALL ACCOUNTS. THANK YEW. 😊

3. “Have fun at the pool… I hope you drown bitch!”

okay well i’m still breathing why you mad😂🤣😂🤣

4. “I've been writing for 2 years longer than you and you really think you're better? fuck you, you fucking SLUT.”

ok did i ask LOL XD and NO i don’t think i’m better

5. “You fucking piece of shit. All you fucking do is flaunt your dumbass friendship in everyone's face. I cannot stand ppl like you, ppl like you are the reason ppl like me fucking struggling bitch”

get off the internet bc im jealous of someone’s friendship? NAHH❌❌ harass both of them until they have to release a statement? YEAHHH😆😆

6. “joder culo perra 😂.”

google translate ahh sybau 🥀

7. “You're arrogant asf if you're choosing to ignore the clear screenshots of your friend saying the n word. I'll continue saying what i want aswell because one, asian ppl can't be racist, and two bcs if she can get away with saying slurs so can i right??”

lauv never said the n word btw. your photoshop skills suck + i have a ss of YOU saying the n word on her msg board if we’re gonna go there 😇😇😇

ok q&a over i hope i answered all of your burning questions 🔥🔥🔥

if you have more to say syfm bc i don’t wanna hear it 🤑🤑🤑

“You and your “supporters” won’t hear from me again.” — your words, stay true to it so never talk to me or anybody else again like you said 🤗🤗🤗

— XOXO VY 😊😊

[emobirthdaycake]

IM GETTING ON MY ASSET/DREAMER SOAP BOX BC YALL DONT FW THEM LIKE I DO!! (/J all jokes!)

Okay let's start with the really obvious part.

Dreamer wants to be needed.

Not wanted, not to belong, to be NECESSARY.

They're a magic born latent, meaning their family was empowered and they grew up not only knowing about magic, but constantly being around it without having any of their own.

The whole reason they sought out Marcus and his... Less than safe methods was because they KNEW they had magic but couldn't access it. Or at least, they had convinced themselves that because their family was empowered, they had to be too, just a latent. (How else would they know so much about magic n such?)

We learn through the flashbacks that Asset is a big sci-fi fan, which is why Marcus chose the dreamscape he did.

There's a lot of robots in sci-fi media, however I'm not a sci-fi nerd so this parts a little blurry for me as I don't have my sci-fi nerd dad here to give me examples so feel free to add any examples for this part.

(from what I know) Most robots in media (TV shows, movies, etc) are referred to by one of two things. Their model number/what they are or a name.

Examples:

R2D2 & C3PO - Star Wars

Connor, Kara, Marcus, etc - Detroit: Become Human

The Daleks - Dr. Who

RK900 - Detroit: Become Human (technically)

G.I. Robot - Creature Commandos

All these robots have names or models that people refer to them as, which is why when I watched Project Meridian the name "Asset" stuck out to me so much. I would've expected a model or some sort of name that aligned with Asset's purpose.

But then you look at the definitions of the word asset. (There are multiple definitions of course)

Asset - a useful or valuable thing, person, or quality.

Dreamer grew up in a world where they were the odd man out. Sure, there are far more unempowered people than empowered people, but THEY were born into a family that HAS magic.

They're a house cat in a family of lions. They aren't special. They can't do anything extraordinary like their family can. I imagine that once their parents realized they didn't have magic(/were most likely latent) they tried even harder to include them and make them feel welcome in the family. But when you and your empowered sister get jumped by a desperate, powerful vampire alone in the woods, it makes you wish you could've blasted him with fire or crushed him with a giant piece of Earth.

Especially when your EMPOWERED sibling is the one who's incapacitated and not you. The one without magic.

Dream NEEDS to feel like they matter. So what does their brain do? Makes them the center of the story. THEY'RE ETS' last hope. THEY were made to fix/save the Meridian. THEY overcome an abusive relationship with someone in power. THEY are the center of Project Meridian. Everyone in the facility is there so THEY can fix everything. And they WILL fix everything.

Being the center wasn't enough, which is why they added the storyline of Marcus's affection. Not only did they need to feel wanted/needed by someone so desperately that they'd break rules and risk the world ending just for them, they needed to become a MARTYR. They martyred themselves in their own mind in an attempt to not only progress the story, but to compensate for a life of being normal.

And we don't even know the full extent of Assets personality and childhood. This could be the extent of it; quiet desperation to be needed, or, it could be deeper than that. Possessiveness, neediness, lashing out for attention.

We already know they're outwardly anxious, but the way they speak to Corvus also reveals that they may be stubborn at the very least (the no! Yes! No! Yes! Back and forth with Corvus).

I think Assets social awkwardness steams from their reservations and experience moreso than fear. Where Lasko fills the silence but fears saying something upsetting, Asset wants people to perceive them a specific way. They're scared that people won't find them palatable. Won't think they're anything special.

They need people to want their presence.

This brings us full circle.

Why name yourself "ASSET" (minus Marcus calling them "Love") instead of "ANDROID" or a model number? Or even give yourself a cute nickname! Dreamer had MANY options but CHOSE a word that gave them VALUE. Naming themselves "SOMETHING WITH VALUE" and putting themselves in the center of the story gives them value they don't have in the waking world.

BUT!

Being pulled from the dream and knowing they made it all up breaks the illusion. Now they're in the real world again with people that can think whatever they want about them. People who can dismiss them, belittle them, make them feel worthless.

Dreamer is clawing at the unraveling threads of not only their memories, but their perception of themselves. Everything around them is falling apart and so they do the only thing they can think of, the only thing they've EVER wanted to do. They throw themselves head first into studies. Because if they study and master their magic, then people will care. They can even win AWARDS. Being an award winner gives them value. Having MAGIC gives them value.

Dreamer needs value, but no one ever bothered to teach them how to be valuable without being empowered when they know about the empowered world.

I'm very excited to explore Dreamer further because they have the opportunity to be an extremely deep and complex character, as a magic born latent isn't a perspective we've explored AT ALL! Speaker or otherwise.

Dreamer has clearly been through a lot and needs help and direction. Hopefully they'll find that at MAAM.

(also I know I probably kind of just went in circles but I would like to make everyone aware that PM was the first full storyline I got into and I've been locked in since day one. There's also a lot of ties to robots and feelings of alienation but I didn't wanna dive head first into "DREAMER IS AUTISTIC TOO" territory since they're a listener and not every redacted fan is neurodivergent.)

Tag - @l0st-dream3r

[juniper-petunia]

what was your biggest sources of inspiration for writing the story of julie and gwen ?? i'd love to know more abt ur process (..◜ᴗ◝..)

OUGHHH sisconvention im kissing you straight on the lips for asking a gwen and julie question!! >3<

so initially my first biggest inspiration was definitely Jade’s (u/RoteDisaster on Reddit) sister audios, especially the arcade and doing your makeup audios. before listening to these audios i wasn’t into siscon at all, but i ran into it because of a post Amity (kinky robot girl) reblogged or something LOL and after listening to that i started getting big into siscon! Just the level of sweetness to those specific audios got me so good and really set my wheels spinning!

I also wanna say heavily the style/ feel of the story i want to be writing here is heavily inspired by some sapphic romance novels i’ve read, specifically all of Ashley Herring Blake. LISTEN i know these kinda books are a little cringe and lame but i love them so much in the same way i love a hallmark christmas movie, like they’re cheesy but whatever! also she writes really good sex scenes imo! It’s just a little millennial if you know what i’m getting at… ANYWAY i was heavily inspired by the sort of light tone in those book but also by 6 times we kissed (and one time we did) by Tess Sharpe, i love the way she tells their story kinda back and forth and with these flashbacks to the almost kisses UGH!

anyways uhh there’s also bits and pieces from Love Ribbon (siscon visual novel) and from Candy Boy but i really think those are my MAIN inspos! I’d love to talk like more in depth about my process and how i like to develop characters but uhhh i’ve already written a lot 😓 don’t wanna seem overeager to answer questions, huh june? (looks back at this wall of text)

thank u again for the ask 💖💖💖

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

ARE YOU READY TO CRY? CAUSE I'M NO GOOD, NO GOOD!

AND IM TRYING TO SAY I'M A PIECE OF SHIT!

synopsis// you make the most out of running into your ex at the bar.

➚ pairing// toji x gn!reader ➚ word count// 1.3k

contents// 16+ EXPLICIT—NO ACTUAL SMUT BUT IT GETS STEAMY, just toji being annoying and you too... everyone annoying... toxic?? relationship probably... who cares about specifics :PPPPPPP ooc tho probably sowwy this is lowkey really half-assed

notes// so basically- and then- and so- yeah idk! ive been meaning to write this for awhile and just speed wrote it rn bc i was bored... so enjoy! the lyrics on here are also from les by childish gambino (tew good!)

You just wanted one moment to yourself, one, but the universe thought otherwise. because, obviously, if you can’t even escape him mentally, you can’t escape him physically either. maybe subconsciously you don’t want to… you look over at him again, and he’s staring at you with an eyebrow raised, all too curious to know what you plan to do next, and no. no, you definitely want to. you definitely want to escape him—it’s why your next move is getting up out of your seat and walking away—or trying to, but you’re stopped by a hand wrapping itself around your wrist. 

“Let me go Toji,” you demand through clenched teeth. 

“Oh cmon can’t two exes catch up?” he coos.

“No they can’t,” you say, finishing your sentence with a yank of your hand. 

“Fine,” he says, letting go. 

You stumble back a bit before catching yourself and regaining your footing. “Fine,” you huff. 

Toji stares at you, who remains in the same spot despite putting up a fit to be let go in the first place. and when a few moments pass of you not leaving, he tilts his head at you and asks, “What can they do then?” 

You shake your head in disapproval. “You’re sick in the head.” 

“Hey, I didn’t even say anything,” he defends, hands placatingly in the air. “You’re the one thinking it.” 

“I hate you.”

He laughs and you hate the way your stomach flutters at the noise. 

“If you hate me, why are you still standing here?”

“I—“ you pause, admitting defeat with a small sigh, and as you sit back down, you mumble, “I don’t know.”

Toji merely hums, unbothered. 

“Why are you even here? Aren't you broke?” you don’t even give him the chance to respond. “Never mind you’re broke because you’re always here i forgot.” 

Toji rolls his eyes as he pulls his wallet out. “Oh haha. If you wanted to see my money so badly, you could’ve just said so.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Oh I bet that really gets the people going, huh?”

He shrugs. “Is it working?” 

“Not a chance.” 

Toji narrows his eyes at you and tilts his head ever so slightly to the side—his voice low and husky as he asks, “You sure?”

You gulp. You don’t want to, but it’s involuntary at this point; the whole way your body reacts to Toji is involuntary. You couldn’t have a say even if you tried. 

seeing how you’re reacting lights a fire in Toji that he once thought blew out. it drives him mad, so it’s only fair to drive you mad as well, and Toji places a teasing hand on your thigh. “No chance at all?”

The physical contact snaps you out of your daze, and you quickly, however grudgingly, slide his hand off. You mutter, almost breathless, “you're a dog…” before turning away. “Bartender can i get a shot?” 

“Make that two.”

You narrow your eyes at him sharply. “Stop copying me.” 

“Grow up.”

You scoff, “says you.”

Toji opens his mouth but doesn't get the chance to say anything because you're immediately speaking up again, “God you are so annoying, did you know that? We broke up, and yet here you are still irking me like nothing’s changed.” 

He smiles fondly, as if what you said was a good thing. “Yeah, you like it though.”

…

and okay, fine. maybe you do like it, maybe you’ve missed bickering with him, maybe you’ve just missed him, and some might say that makes you toxic, but oh fuck it, whatever. who gives a damn anymore? 

You take a much-needed deep breath before calling out, “another shot please?”

You down the shot as soon as it's placed in front of you, slamming the glass back down on the table after you're finished and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You stand up without a word and walk away toward the bathroom, only daring to look back as you're entering, and you make direct eye contact with Toji. The way you stare at him feels like a brick just landed on his chest; his chest feels tight, and for some reason, so do his pants… he breathes in heavily, raggedly. you couldn't be… could you? Toji bites his lip and stands up. There's only one way to find out. 

He hardly needs to knock once before you’re pulling him in by the collar of his shirt and slamming your lips into his. 

You draw away briefly to let out a desperate “took you long enough” as you push him up against the door. 

Toji groans and flips you over, now pushing you up against the door. he leans down and meets your lips with his for a moment before trailing kisses down your jaw and licking a stripe up your neck before mumbling, “thought you hated me.”

“I do,” you say, but it comes out more like a moan than anything. 

he chuckles. “yeah I hate you too.”

“just shut the fuck up already,” you say, grabbing his face and dragging him in for a kiss. It’s rough and uncoordinated, but this is Toji so you’d expect nothing less. That’s not to say it’s bad, you guess. The kissing is just nothing life-altering or earth-shattering or anything along those lines. You’ve made out with Toji countless times before, but this is probably the longest you’ve made out with him. Toji isn’t one for foreplay—actually, his foreplay consists of you spending money on him. so it’s safe to say that kissing him is sloppy and, honestly, kind of gross—but there's also something about being gross in an even grosser restroom of a random bar that is surprisingly kind of hot?

It certainly gets you going, a heat pooling in your abdomen, but you ignore it—there’s no way you’re going to willingly admit that he of all people is still able to get you off. His hands are all over you, groping any part of you they can, and that just won’t do, so you fumble blindly with his belt buckle, and it’s only the clang of it falling to the ground that pulls you out of your sex-driven haze, and you truly realize what’s going on, and admittedly you’ll do a lot of things… but fucking in a bar bathroom is not going to be one of them.

You abruptly stop your actions and pull away from Toji, bending down to grab his belt for him. “Never mind.” 

“What?” he reluctantly takes his belt from you. “You’re just going to blue ball me like this??” 

No part of you feels bad and is more amused than anything. “um yeah!”

“Y/N,” Toji murmurs harshly with a twitch of his eye. “I’m harder than a fucking rock here,” he says, groping himself a little as if to emphasize his point. 

“Ok sucks to be you i guess?” you smile. “I'm going out to my car; follow me or don’t.”

Toji looks at you like you’re stupid, and part of him genuinely thinks you are as he gestures down toward the bulge in his pants. “How am I gonna follow you like this?”

“I'm leaving with or without you,” you say with a shrug before you walk out like nothing. 

“Y/N!” he tries calling out after you, but it’s futile; you’re long gone, and Toji is left alone in the bathroom with nothing but his hard-on and the last of his dignity… which, fuck it, whatever; the man has never had shame, so why have some now? he has no shame, and striding out proudly of the bathroom to your car with a boner visible for miles is very proof of that. and you, who finally notices him walking up to your car, are positive the only reason he’s here is because he’s thinking with the head in his pants rather than the one on his shoulders. but that’s okay. you’ll take what you can get because you know it’s not subconscious anymore.

you don’t think you’d ever want to escape Toji. and now that he's in your passenger seat, you doubt you ever will. 

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

[hellboundhimbo]

OP. LUCA.

i’m insane i’m crazy im immortal im dying i can never die im the second coming of christ im a mite on a sock and i am actively frothing at the mouth dying of radiation poisoning what the FUC K

this is so insane. do u understand me rn. NEVER apologize for popping off this severely okay im throwing up all over my phone screen and running away to live a new life in the alps about this.

i don’t even know where to start with sinking my teeth into this analysis because it’s all. ITS SO. OUGHHHUGHGGGGHGHFHJSHDJEHCJD im normal. esp the part about sora. literally all the time i think about how sanji had this special significant relationship with his mother but we don’t see much of that with reiju like WHAT COULD THAT MEAN. the most we see of them together is sora talking about sanji to reiju, and like. i will never ever doubt that sora loved reiju very deeply and craved a deep connection with her, but the only times we get to see them alone surrounds sanji. which could ofc just be sanji’s narrative focus taking precedent over reiju’s relationship with her mom, but not only do i believe that informs why reiju holds sanji to this golden standard, i also theorize that it could have impacted reiju’s own relationship with sora.

perhaps reiju took it upon herself to separate herself from sora emotionally— obviously loving her and spending time w her, but never letting her mask slip. both in pursuit of her father’s favor, and perhaps to comfort sora, but possibly also as a form of self punishment. because reiju hates her bloodline so much, and by proxy herself, she may have kept that distance between them bc she believed she didn’t deserve a special relationship with her mom— sora and sanji were close because they were both pure and good, so they deserve each other. reiju, in her mind, is irredeemable and rotten, so she doesn’t deserve to have that close relationship like sanji does. and ofc im certain that reiju— if she ever allowed herself to feel it, of course— regrets this, deep down. bc it’s not like she didn’t love her mom. she likely sees that as horribly selfish, but yk. my crackpot theory.

OH OH AND ALSO YOUR TAKE ON THE VINSMOKE BROTHERS. LITERALLY FUCKING EXACTLY WHAT IVE BEEN SAYING. they’re horrible awful terrible people but their psychopathy isn’t the reason they’re bad people— far from it! one cannot truly know evil if they cannot comprehend the depths of cruelty it requires, so in that regard, the vinsmoke brothers aren’t evil. and it just? hurts so bad??? because judge’s “successful soldiers” for his “evil army” aren’t even fuckin evil. judge just raised them in such a way that cruelty and violence were the one thing tethering them to any sense of identity like, at all. they were never given the tools to think for themselves past judge’s narrow worldview, therein leaving them with no sense of self past being germa’s perfect soldiers. i think reiju calls them inhuman not because a lack of emotions/empathy makes them less human or wtvr (WHICH!! SHOULD ALSO NOTE SUCH AN ASSERTION IS BOGUS AND ABLEIST ASF) but because judge never allowed them to have any identity outside of the mold he made for them, therein robbing them of their own humanity, ambition, critical thought, and freedom of expression, therein leaving them with nothing more than what judge carved out for them in a mindless pursuit of power and faux innovation. not people or individuals: soldiers. a marvel of judge’s own scientific creation. it’s genuinely tragic but such a wonderful exploration of narcissistic parenting’s effects within a fantasy setting.

was literally talking abt this with one of my other mutuals the other day (my goat truly) and it drives me insane to think abt, esp considering the fandom has two modes when it comes to those guys: “they’re wholly evil pieces of shit with no depth beyond that” or “if they just got their emotions back they’d be fixed!!!!” it sucks so bad so ty for being based. anyway enough abt those guys back to my shayla.

reiju as a character is just soso wonderful in so many ways because of how many things her character serves to explore, both in a meta and narrative sense. in a meta sense, i feel reiju’s status as judge’s only and eldest daughter specifically ties into whole cake island’s themes of lineage, (more subtly) gender, and how those intertwine. mainly this is represented with sanji as a representation of non traditional masculinity and germa’s men as a representation for toxic masculinity, and all which it idealizes— but reiju’s role is important in how it explores where women are left in such a society. how young girls are forced to grow up to fast in order to safely navigate a male-dominated society, how daughters are rewarded for disappearing, how emotional repression disguises itself as maturity or confidence, particularly as seen in women who must smile and nod lest they be labeled “psychotic” or “bitchy” then cast aside. hell, even how women’s bodies are viewed as products or tools to be utilized by men— DO U EVER THINK ABT HOW REIJU’S POWER GIMMICK IS POISON SPECIFICALLY. BC I DO. I THINK ABT IT A LOT. it’s so. ITS JUST. ITS SO. UGHHH REIJUUUUUU.

she is a soldier, she is a product, she is a prototype, and half a failure. she is a sister and a secret caretaker. an enigmatic smile betraying no motive. a body to be used and a mind to be molded and a will to be discarded. she is tears shining behind eyes which can never let them free and she is a hand who’s closest proximity to the innocent is a merciful push into liberation she can never know. she is the half remembered eulogy of a woman she never let herself emulate and the rotten blood spilling from open wounds which she wishes so dearly would never heal. i’m going to CRY.

AND DESPITE ALL OF THIS!!! she’s not even a person, to herself. she calls her brothers inhuman but then immediately writes herself off as no better. she hates her lineage above all but by proxy she hates herself for being one of them. she martyrs sanji, clings onto his life as something pure and wholly good because in a strange way, she is the one good part of her life. the one good thing she ever did that still, still in her head she got wrong. because she didn’t die protecting him. she didn’t join him in the dungeon. she preened under her father’s heavy hand because she is human, because she wanted to badly to be loved just like him, but unlike sanji, she had the strength to climb up that ladder, each rung an innocent life. and all she found at the top was hollow acceptance and the meaningless pursuit of pointless power.

and it hurts so BAD because sanji literally extended that hand to her, in whole cake. asked

and i am so certain that if reiju had broken right then, had asked sanji to save her; asked him to take her with him, he would’ve. he would’ve fought tooth and nail for reiju’s freedom not just because of the debt he feels he owes her (which reiju of course disregards,) but because she was one of the single digit number of people who loved him at his weakest. when he wasn’t a cook, or a pirate, or a gentleman; before he scrubbed himself of the vinsmoke name, cloaked himself in shadow, and ran towards the light. she loved him when he was weak and fragile and scared. still does.

but, of course. reiju says this.

because she hates her lineage, yes, but above all, i believe reiju hates herself. both for the blood running in her veins, but for all the things she couldn’t do. all the things she was too afraid, too young, too smart, too desperate to be loved, to do. and of course, most all of her actions can be explained— that’s what we’re doing right now. she was just a child. she may have done horrible things, even into adulthood, but she’s not beyond redemption. but to reiju, that doesn’t matter. because, to her, she was too far gone from the moment she was born under the vinsmoke name— the rotting ghost of a fool’s meaningless ambition, only worsened by the fact judge doesn’t even understand just how pathetic he’s become. how foolish he’s always been.

BUT AGAIN. i know reiju sees herself in judge. which sounds insane because they’re so Different and yet. i’m certain she draws parallels between them. and that’s just part of their intertwined, checkered fate. she wants him dead and yet she’s attached herself to him seemingly irrevocably, damning herself to burn by his side because she believes it’s what monsters like her deserve.

sanji’s iron mask kills me not just because it’s heart breaking in and of itself, but because the only reason why reiju doesn’t have one over her head is because she forged an invisible one for herself. only difference is, sanji found a way to break free of his chains, he took his mask off. reiju never could. and at this point, im not sure if she even knows how.

but Lord i’ve already spoken far too much. tldr i love you reiju vinsmoke my SHAYLA. alexa play sinking town by yoeko kurahashi.

the vinsmoke sibs all being numbered is old news to everyone, ik, but i haven’t seen anyone pointing out reiju’s number specifically. she’s “zero daughter.” this makes sense when you consider the quints are numbered 1 to 4 already, but like. consider. reiju is the oldest by three years.

can u imagine that. not just being a number, but being zero. from the moment you are born, you’re the prototype. fine, but not good enough. created only to be improved upon. the eldest but not the first. the stumbling start to a sprinting marathon where innocents are rungs on a latter. a twisted game where you and your siblings are guns and you are worth no more than the bandwidth of your magazine.

the inferior trial of a greater product from the moment you’re born. and eventually, the final touches are complete. your brothers are born. you learn to play the game: to keep yourself safe, to keep your father loving you because one wrong move and you’re nothing. your brothers are not human, you learn— they’re the perfect soldiers. cruel and monstrous and empty. they disgust you, but you keep playing along because you have to.

yet as you learn to smile when the runt among them crumbles, to laugh when he cries— when you’re killing innocents right alongside them for the sake of your father’s army, years down the line— you find you’re no better than them. your empathy, your emotions, do not justify your sin.

because those emotions are what led you here in the first place. the need to be loved, to be safe, it’s present in all children. sanji couldn’t keep up but you. you had what it took, didn’t you? you played the part to perfection until the mask was fused to your skin.

the eldest daughter. the prototype that kept pace with the final product. a silent smile with cyanide behind her lips.

poison pink. zero. all you are, all you’ll ever be.

it’s too late for anything else.

[naturecalls111]

unorthodox murder mystery

[teratomatica]

you always land on all fours

[dkettchen]

she would've told them unlike her canon! version who decided not to be an ally smh

[amaconcha]

One of my favorite things about the ASL Brothers is the fact that Ace was the one brought out the sake and proposed becoming brothers.

Not Luffy or Sabo but Ace.

Ace, who believes he is unlovable, Ace who believes that his blood is dirty, Ace who believes that he didn’t deserve to be born, Ace who thinks that his life is worthless, Ace who believes that his mere existence is a crime.

And yet Ace saw these two boys and approached them without apprehension or fear of rejection even though he was proposing something as irrevocable, something as bonding as brotherhood