#'m so lonesome i could cry

[pwinkprincess]

do u write for sukunaaaa

if so can we have cum denial wit him. like fingering n teasing reader till she’s crying n babbling 🐾 <3

sugarpie ୨ৎ

not getting sukuna’s attention has you acting out ୨ৎ

yeah probs mii first nd last time writing abt kuna ^.^ i really enjoyed doing dis for u tho ^_^

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ SUGARPIE ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ --->  rough fingering, pet names (baby, princess, mama), shameless use of the word daddy :P, begging, clit slapping, squirting, daddydom!kuna, lawyer!kuna, orgasm denial

“kuna.” you drag out his name as you climb onto his lap. it’s been hours since he’s given you any sort of attention, you understood that the paperwork he is working on is extremely important. he briefly explained to you days prior about taking on a big case that would bring in a lonesome amount of money once everything was said and done. which is fine, of course you’re gonna support your kuna in whatever he takes on. but what isn’t fine is his attention being diverted to papers instead of you.

he grumbles out while he leans to your side so that he could see what was displayed on his desk. you sit quietly on his lap for a few moments, your mind is racing with how you could get his attention back onto you. a deep rooted, responsible and sensible side of you reminds you that he’s working and he told you that he would be busy on it, you know you’re being selfish but you can’t find it in you to care. if anything it’s sukuna’s fault for spoiling you so much! 

“kuna.” you whine again. your head lays on his hard shoulder while your hands begin slithering against his waist. even through his shirt you could feel the hardened muscles, you loved just running your acrylic tips over his muscles and watching them tense every now and then. “daddy, are you ignoring me?” you ask with a frown that sukuna didn’t need to see, he could hear it in your voice.

“‘f course not, baby. ‘m just busy trying to sign these documents.” sukuna barely pays attention to the words coming out of his mouth as he jots down more and more onto the paper. 

“aren’t you tired?” you huff, “can’t you just take a little break?”

“not right now. i need to stay on top of this case ‘nd fill out as much as i can as fast as i can.” he suddenly leans down a little to grab a paper thats on the far end of his desk. you wrap your arms tighter around him, but you know sukuna would never let you fall. no matter how busy and out of it he seems.

you don’t like that response at all. you roll your eyes at his resistance and settle with resting your head on the crook of his neck. you breathe in his cologne. the colognes’ he wears pairs so well with his natural scent. they smell so warm but masculine in a way. you close your eyes, opting to lay there and enjoy the feeling of his heart thumping and his body movements each time he inhales and exhales. you use the sound of the pen sliding against the paper as white noise.

you hum softly against him. this is better than being in separate rooms, you suppose. you would prefer for his attention to be on you completely but you’ll take what’s given at the moment. usually, you’d be chattering away about minuscule things while sukuna works but he quickly shut that down weeks ago.

“my office is my sanctuary, princess. i don’t care if you come ‘n here but you have to stay quiet so daddy can focus.” the firmness in his tone left no room for debate, which is why you slowly nodded your head while looking up at him.

you were only able to sit still and quiet for a few minutes, you tried, you really did. but you couldn't contain yourself from letting out littles hums and shifting your hips every few minutes. your little thin panties would get snagged on the shape of his cock causing little whimpers to escape from your throat when it does happen. sukuna doesn’t comment on anything you do, only occasionally patting your thigh when he deems you are moving too much.

“kuna, please.” you whine out as you lift your head from his shoulder to look at him fully. you didn’t have to say what you wanted, he knew. he always does.

“‘m working, mama.” he reminds you. irritation is seeping through his usual tone. hearing the slowly growing firmness begin to take over his words causes little hairs to stand up on your body, you both loved and hated when he talked to you like this.

“i don’t care! i need you kuna!” you clutch at his shirt with your hands. the hairs continue to stand.. no way you just raised your voice at him. a twitch of fear settles in your stomach. 

“watch your tone.” he stops writing completely. 

“wouldn’t have gotten loud if you would’ve jus’ paid attention to me.” you mutter under your breath as you begin getting off of his lap.

“the fuck you just say?” 

୨୧

“kuna, i can’t! ‘s too much please!” you cry out as his thick fingers roughly pump into your fat pussy. the sounds of your arousal coating his digits filled the room, you were so fucking wet. he had already managed pull an almost orgasm out of you. he waited until you were breathing heavy and for your legs to be shaking desperately to pull away. 

he doesn’t respond to you, only forcing your legs further with one hand while adding another finger. you squeal and whine while clutching on his wrist. his fingers are so fucking thick inside your sensitive pussy. your clutch at his wrist does nothing to slow him down.

your poor pussy could do nothing but take his aggressive fingers, you thrashed around on his lap which only made him slink an arm around your waist to hold you in place.  fat tears ran down your cheeks as he continued holding your legs open so that he could continue to fill you.

everything about sukuna is thick. not just his fingers, but his cock (especially that), his muscles, his personality. those were just minor reasons that added up to why you loved him. 

hearing the humiliating squelch, squelch, squelch and just feeling your arousal dripping down from your everflowing pussy to his lap. if you weren’t getting fucked stupid by his fingers you would’ve been embarrassed from the growing wet spot that is forming on his slacks. 

“talkin’ t’me crazy.. have you lost your fucking mind?” he asks. with every word he’s hammering his fingers as deep as he possibly could, it’s almost to the point that it hurts. you whimper out a soft “daddy” and try to close your legs to prevent him from continuing to abuse your poor pussy.

you can’t find it in you to say a response, instead, you let out loud mewls and sobs. sukuna doesn’t take much appreciation to his words being met with silence, with a rough huff he pulls out the hand that’s fucking you to oblivion to give you three rough slaps against your right thigh.

a piercing sob breaks through your lips,“yes! daddy! ah! yes! i'm sorry daddy!” you didn’t even know what you were saying. loud sniffles mixed with the words you slobbered out. you were a complete mess, you loved when sukuna got you like this.

“‘s okay, though. don’t worry, baby. daddy’s going to make sure you remember your manners.” he plunges his fingers back into you with no warning prompting an unexpected orgasm to shoot from your sensitive pussy. he groans and begins slapping at your clit. squeals escape from deep in your throat. he remembers specifically telling you not to cum until he said so.

“daddy! oh! ah! ah! i’m sorry!” you try to crawl away from the intensity of your orgasm. sukuna clicks his teeth and roughly pushes you back up so that your back is aligned evenly to his chest. you’re fully sobbing now as a stream leaks out and sprays onto his fingers, lap, and parts of his paperwork. 

“no more, kuna, puhllleeaaa-ahhmygodd..” your sentence is broken when he powers his movements back up. you’re still leaking out your orgasm when he adds a third finger. “daddy! kuna! baby! pleaseee, no more!” drool leaks from the corners of your mouth as you are dumbly babbling out to him.

“tch.” he sighs. “cummin’ even when i told you not to. you must really not be my good girl now? hm?” you could hear the smirk in sukuna’s voice. usually when he finds your actions amusing, you’d pout at him. but you were so fucked out all you could do is continue to grip his wrist weakly.

“‘s too much, kuna. toooo muchhhh.” you groan. you try closing your legs around his hand once again and this time sukuna bites down on your shoulder making you squirm. he didn’t bite down hard, he made sure to only use enough force to make you stop moving.

“keep ignorin’ me.” he warns. “your second time now. even while getting punished, you’re still actin’ up.” he jeered. “maybe you’re not my good girl after all.” 

“‘m your good girl. promise. ‘m your good girl.” you sniffle, he was still rubbing his fingers against your walls filling you up jussttt right. your eyes glance down and you could see his hand sparkling with your arousal and to make matters more intense his fingers are etched with your cream. you could only whine at the sight.

he places soft kisses on the side of your neck and jaw. “watch me fuck my pussy.” he mumbles while placing a soft kiss on the corner of your lips. “gonna make sure my pussy gets all the attention it's been beggin’ for, and you better not fucking cum again until i say so.”

[gxodnightkiss]

i was wondering if you have any ocs of just like make up a character for a story. if you do then maybe can you write please a submissive yandere boy who's your classmate that would do anything for you and is shy x dominant female/ gn reader ? t

You don't have to ofc i was just wondering sorry if this is super weird😂

pairing ; (yandere!) (submissive!) striker x (dominant!) (fem!) reader

warnings ; sexually suggestive content, profanity, slight gun play

note ; TYSM FOR MY FIRST ASK !!! i srsly appreciate it so much !! and your ask isn't weird at all ! unfortunately, i don't have any ocs rn but your ask inspired me to write a short helluva boss thing lol ! i rlly hope you like it–i notice you interacted with my last helluva boss work, and it made my week ! :']

also... the lyrics from this piece are from "blue" by leann rimes, and it is such an amazing song asdfghjkl,, i recommend listening to it while you read!

.⋆｡⋆｡⋆.‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

blue.

blue, / oh, so lonesome for you, / why can't you be blue over me?

you turn your head away, refusing him the satisfaction of looking directly into your eyes. he raises one of his hands, his fingers carefully ghosting across your jawline, stuttering as they do–like he knows it's wrong for his skin to meet yours. they begin inching toward your lips, prompting you to pull away from him as much as your restraints allow. the coarseness of the rope digs into your wrists. you gasp, partly from pain but mainly from the discomfort of his touch against your skin: "don't touch me."

"play nice," striker lazily drawls. dropping his hand to his holster, he chuckles, leaning forward until you can feel his breath fanning across your face. hoarsely, he mumbles about how pretty and soft you smell; he relents, his posture straightening as he nods toward his hip.

"i can be mean when i want to be, honey," he says, emphasizing his words by tapping against his holster. dragging his fingertips over the bulge of his weapon, he continues, "don't make me be mean."

you clear your throat. "maybe i like mean."

three o'clock in the morning, / here am i, / sitting here so lonely, / so lonesome i could cry

narrowing his eyes, he watches your face, tail whipping behind him with a sharp crack. it continues to fidget as he unsheathes his gun, the glint of his gold tooth competing with how his revolver's silver barrel gleams underneath the dim light.

"admit you need me," he says, the severity of his voice getting caught in his throat; instead, a low, garbled whine falls from him, his words lilted with mean desperation. the barrel of his revolver grazes along your face, dragging it upward until he finally settles on your cheek, pressing it into the fleshiest part before spinning the gun's cylinder. as the cylinder moves, soft, muted clicks sound out, revealing all six chambers are full. the bullets peek at you from the corner of your eye–a moment disrupted as striker snaps the cylinder back into place with a single, well-practiced motion, the fluidity of which makes you shiver.

with a steady, unwavering stare, his gaze meets yours. "i can do this all night," he chuckles. "now, say it."

now that it's over, / i realize, / those weak words you whispered, / were nothing but lies

"no."

he stalls. striker's mouth twitches upward into a smirk, his shoulders relaxing as he lowers the gun slightly. holding it against your bottom lip, he lingers, hungrily watching as the plushness of your skin cushions the barrel. a low, pitchy noise rumbles in his chest at the sight; then, his pupils tremble, focus flitting between your mouth and his gun. he shakes his head.

"i'm sick and goddamn tired of you bein' in my head," he snarls through gritted teeth. to punctuate his sentence, he twists the opening of the revolver into the underside of your chin, the motion similar to how someone grinds a cigarette into an ashtray. "the way you sit there, lookin' at me the way you do–you need me."

"do i?"

blue, / oh, so lonesome for you, / why can't you be blue over me?

"i know you love me, darlin'," he quickly says, a thin trail of drool dribbling from his jaw onto his shirt, "yer just playin' hard to get." you snort.

"look at yourself," you say, disgusted. "you're pathetic."

arching your back against the tightness of the rope ("can't have you gettin' away, girlie," he'd said earlier), you huff, the chair you're tied to gently wobbling from side to side. still, as you're struggling, you don't allow him the opportunity to speak. "i-i bet you'd do anything to touch me," you muse, condescension honeying your voice.

"yes." the word comes out a quiet hiss. you can see how taut striker's muscles are underneath his jacket, how his fingers loosen and tighten around the revolver's handle. his claws are scraping against the metal like he needs proof that it's there–like the gun's weight alone isn't enough to tether him anymore.

you peer up at him as you wet your lips, a faint metallic taste lingering from where his gun rested. striker's fangs gnash against the quiet that follows as if he's desperate to taste you. "yes, what?"

"yes, ma'am."

why can't you be blue over me?

[colbyskies]

The 10th

A quick emotional hurt/comfort drabble Bill Kaulitz x male reader 1k words

M/n and Bill are chatting happily to each other about Tokio Hotels next album. M/n watching the way Bill plays with his long black hair that falls beautifully on his shoulders as he talks. He tries to notice everything about the singer, from the way he claps his hands when he’s excited to the sour look he gets on his face when someone says something he doesn’t like. He observes Bill just as Bill observes him. The way Bill notices when something is bugging him from the way his eyebrows furrow in frustration or how they raise when he’s about to cry. Bill sees everything, it makes things easier for M/n, since he doesn’t like to talk about something that’s bothering him. 

Just as Bill is about to make a comment about how annoying Tom was in the studio today while they were recording the English version of Schrei, M/n’s phone rings beside him. 

“It’s my grandma, I’m gonna take this.” M/n smiles at Bill as an apology for the interruption. Bill nods in acknowledgement before M/n answers the phone. 

“Hello?” M/n greets into the receiver, holding a soft smile on his face and in his eyes. Something Bill always admired about M/n, the way he doesn’t just smile with his mouth, it’s how you know a smile is genuine or not. 

Bill watches as M/n’s face drops and instantly knows what the call is about. M/n’s eyes become glossy, “Okay.” The singer can feel the uncomfortableness radiating off the other wanting nothing more than to comfort him, but giving him the space to finish the call.

“That's good.” M/n has to practically hold back a sob, his words coming out choked. 

“Mhm…thank you…goodbye, I love you too.” The second the phone is flipped close and by his side, he looks at Bill but his eyes aren’t focused on him. His head is loud, he has never felt like more of an ant in some big grand plan than he does at this moment. Unimportant, forgettable, unnoticed. His lonesome concerns were confirmed by the world’s silence and lack of life. His ears almost muffled to the sounds around him, the cars once driving on the street or the guitar playing from Tom down the hall now nothing but a faded memory.

It takes everything in him not to turn to a fix. Not to pick up a cigarette hidden in his drawers or down a bottle of pills. Just something, something to get this feeling away from his body. It’s all he needs, something to help him forget. He needs to get shit faced so he doesn’t have to face its harsh reality. 

Bill knows what M/n needs without him even asking for it. “I'm sorry, M/n,” Bill mutters, pulling the other into his chest, playing with the hair on his head. The world settles just a little bit more with his body safe in Bill’s arms. He could tell M/n is holding back his sobs with the way his chest heaved. 

“It’s okay M/n, we’re alone. I am here for you.” Bill’s voice brings him back, his words comforting him in a way that no one else could. That’s all it takes for the floodgates to open. M/n sobs violently into Bill's chest, clenching his shirt in his fists as Bill continues to brush a soothing hand over his back. 

They sit there for a couple minutes until M/n bolts up and runs to the bathroom, Bill following closely behind. “M/n-” His voice is cut off by M/n throwing up into the toilet. The singer kneels beside the other, listening to the violent sobs rack his body as he continues to throw up. One hand held his hair back, while the other rubbed circles into his mid back. 

M/n stood from the toilet and walked to the sink to flush out his mouth with mouthwash. Bill stood by him the entire time, his hands not leaving his body. Always sure that one hand is directly touching his skin, knowing that M/n needs skin on skin contact in order to stay calm. 

They both walked back into the bedroom, Bill removing his shirt, before helping M/n with his. As soon as they’re both shirtless, M/n grabs onto Bill, holding him in a tight hug. He walks them slowly over to the bed and lays down with his arms tightly around Bill and his head on his chest. 

The rhythmic beat of Bill’s heart calms the painful throb of his. 

His heart clenches, it aches so bad. His chest heaves and his eyes hurt from crying, but there's nothing he can do to stop it. M/n is so tired, but can’t sleep, he’s so hungry but can’t eat. Tom comes by a couple times asking if either of them want anything to eat, M/n always shakes his head. Tom did end up getting him stuff anyway, but he doesn’t eat it. He can’t. All he can do is drink his water and juice boxes, focusing all his thoughts on Bill’s soft pale chest against his bare back. It does little to solve the way his heart chokes him, but it helps to fill that void with something hopeful. Bill’s quiet whispers in his ear helps too. 

“You’re not alone…”

“I’m here for you baby…”

“It’s okay…”

Words that fall like a blanket over M/n’s shoulders, the weight of his awake nightmare rolling off his back. Every phrase soothes his aching chest more and more. M/n has yet to communicate besides just shaking his head or rubbing circles on Bill’s body to let him know he's still awake. 

Every once in a while he falls back into a violent sob, his entire body shaking, his head hurting, and his throat raw, but Bill is always there to hold him. To tell him that everything is going to be alright, that he doesn’t have to suffer through this alone. Despite the words being little to what he’s going through, it helps him so much to know that he’s cared for, that he has someone to hold him and let him know he’s okay. Bill is there to soothe him, even at his worst, even at his most vulnerable and he couldn't be more grateful towards the singer.

[sohemotional]

That Don't Impress Me Much - A Brittana Fic

Summary: The blonde dancer totally knew the effect she had on her. It was so easy to rile the dark-haired woman up and as she beckoned her closer with a finger, Santana kept gazing at her lips, making it so obvious what she wanted.

She leaned closer, knowing that Santana would feel her breathing against her neck and as she expected, there was a sharp, aroused intake of breath from the Latina.

She even closed her eyes, puckering her lips as if Brittany was going to kiss her.

As if.

“My name is no. My sign is no. My number is no. You need to let it go.”

Or

Brittany is tired of being taken advantage of by selfish, egotistical jerks, so she makes a plan with her friend Tina that she can make some idiot fall for her and then ditch them after she has had her fun. Her plans backfire when she’s swept off her feet by arrogant yet surprisingly sweet celebrity Santana Lopez.

Rating: M

Read More on AO3

***This is a companion piece to my other Brittana AU fic, "My Name Is No (You Need To Let It Go),” which you can find here on tumblr or on AO3

Brittany had just about had enough of fuckboys and fuckgirls. 

There she was, sitting alone in a crummy little diner, all by her lonesome on Saturday night, her date nowhere to be found. Being the only hot, young blonde in fishnets, heels so high she was close to God, and a skirt so short it was probably illegal while surrounded by desperate bikers and hicks who licked their lips as they leered at her should have made her feel like she was walking through the valley of the shadow of death. Or maybe she should have felt the way those fish in her dad’s aquarium felt that time Lord Tubbington took up scuba diving as his new hobby. 

Instead, Brittany was unfazed. As she water-skied down the highway of life, she had seen it all. 

That one old Dolly Parton song her mother and Grandma Rose from St. Olaf used to like so much was playing in the background now. It made her pretty nostalgic for the good old days in the Pierce house. Sometimes Brittany felt this one should have been the soundtrack to her life, if she ever had to choose a replacement for “Candy” by Cameo.

Don't try to cry your way out of this

Don't try to lie or I'll catch you in it

Don't try to make me feel sorry for you

Just because I'm blonde

Don't think I'm dumb

Cause this dumb blonde ain't nobody's fool

When you left you thought I'd sit

An' you thought I'd wait

An' you thought I'd cry

You called me a dumb blonde

Ah, but somehow I lived through it

And you know if there's one thing this blonde has learned

Blondes have more fun

There was nothing Brittany loved more than sex and she knew she was the best. Hoeing was her hobby. If there were competitions for this, she would have won the Olympic Gold medal. In fact, she had won the kissing competition in Lima five years in a row easily, if that meant anything. 

Sure fuckboys and fuckgirls were kinda fun, especially when she got them in bed for the fucking part of things but a girl needed some romance in her life too. 

After the first few times, she was over them. No one could hold her interest and it seemed like she never held theirs. To them, she was always just stupid bimbo slut Brittany. Good for an easy lay but not for a relationship. 

Sure she knew she was hot but Brittany was beginning to wonder why she was never the girl who got flowers or love confessions and marriage proposals made to her. She was never the girl who got her happily ever after.  

All she wanted was a cowboy to ride her off into the sunset. 

“Tina, he just left me,” She sobbed into the phone as she heard Mike muttering something to his girlfriend in the background that vaguely sounded like him asking where Brittany was. “I’m at the Little Alien Inn!”

So now she was crying because she got ditched again. 

“Bad bitches don’t cry.” 

At least, that was what Tina told her when she and Mike stopped by to take her home but Brittany wasn’t so sure she was a bad bitch at that moment. 

Mike and Tina each grabbed one of her arms, all about dragging her out of the diner in her bra and skirt when she had started to take off her clothes and perform a strip show on top of a table as she often did. 

“You must think I’m such a mess.” Brittany sobbed, mascara running down her cheeks. Tina and Mike who were accustomed to picking up Brittany from sleazy bars and motels weren’t particularly surprised by any of this. 

“Oh Britt, it’s not you. It’s that vile idiot. You don’t need any of them! Just be your hot girl self. You’re an independent woman who don’t need no man or woman! Hot girl summer and all that.” 

Brittany wasn’t so sure about that at the moment. She felt like a codependent woman who was very much in need of a man or woman. 

“Maybe Room Temperature Girl Summer?” 

Tina shook her head, a long-suffering expression on her face, snorting out an incredulous, unladylike laugh as she passed another tissue to the blonde. She was so accustomed to Brittany’s oddball personality that she had come to expect comments like that from her. Apparently noticing that her tall, blonde friend was moping the night away on their couch with a pout on her face, she took pity on her. 

“Here’s an idea: make a game out of it. Make some fuckboy go all crazy for you next time and then you ditch them when you’ve had your fun and laugh in their face.” 

“Oh this, I’d pay to see.” Mike chimed in from across the room. 

A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of Brittany’s lips as she thought her friends were making a good point. 

That night, something hardened inside of her and changed for her.

Tina was right, it was time she had some more self-respect and Brittany began to realize how much more she was worth than just a quick lay in the backseat of someone’s car until they moved on to the next girl. 

——

She got her confidence back pretty quickly because if there was one thing about Brittany it was that she didn’t stay depressed for long.  

So the next week she was slinking around The Pussy Cat with feline-like confidence and agility, ignoring the men who gawked at her, hissing and cat-calling as she passed by. She didn’t have a care in the world. 

Who cared about girlfriends and boyfriends? She was just there to have fun with her friends. So that’s what she was going to do. 

She was having such a great time that she really did forget about her troubles.

Then she felt her burning gaze on her from across the room. The stranger in question was a Latina with black hair, equally dark eyes, glowing dark skin, and a very slim but toned build. Her long hair fell in perfectly tousled dark waves. 

She didn’t take her eyes off of Brittany once and had her jaw dropped as she took in the sight of the blonde. The blonde had never seen such a clear demonstration of “undressing someone with your eyes” in action.

Brittany couldn’t deny that the woman had this powerful, commanding aura about her. 

She paid absolutely no mind to it, humming to herself as she twirled around and rolled her body perfectly in time with the beat. Then she sauntered back to her friends, giggling to herself as she thought of something her cat had done the night before. 

Sugar tapped her on the shoulder. 

“Oh Britt, you’ve got another admirer. That one is checking you out so hard. She looks like she’s drooling. I can see her boner from over here… ” 

Brittany’s friends began to snicker obnoxiously. The blonde smirked and shrugged. It was super obvious that the painfully horny brunette was checking her out the entire time, muttering “Humina, humina,” but Brittany wasn’t bothered one way or another.

“Oh, okay. I just want to dance.” 

Tina, Sugar, Marley, and the others were gawking at her. Sugar eventually piped up.  

“Don’t you know who that is?! It’s Santana Lopez.”

“Who?”

“Brittany! How do you not know? She’s a celebrity! She was on Bad Girls Club.”

“Oh.”

“She’s openly lesbian too.”

“No duh. I could tell,” Brittany stated dryly, remembering how that woman had stared at her legs and ass. Come to think of it, Santana was still doing that. Brittany shook her head, rolling her eyes fondly at her friend. Sugar was always trying to matchmake her with someone and that girl knew everything about celebrities. She looked down at her nails, inspecting the pale pink polish on them while she knew Santana was checking her out again. “Uh, whatever. So not interested.” 

She definitely wasn’t looking for anyone that night but if she managed to torment them, then that was a bonus. Men and some women always seemed to assume that if Brittany was dancing, it meant she was looking for a partner. 

“What’s all that noise?” Brittany spoke up, hearing a bit of a commotion. “It’s kind of annoying.” 

It turned out that the woman who had been checking her out was being totally loud and obnoxious now. She laughed really loudly, banging her fist on the table and being a total show-off. She threw back drinks until she was visibly red in the face. Then she started to sing as she got up on the table, drawing a crowd until some short woman with a serious expression pulled her back down before she embarrassed herself. She clearly thought she was so desirable and hot. 

She probably thought that Brittany didn’t notice how she kept sneaking glances in her direction. A sly smirk came to Brittany’s lips. This woman was such a goofy dork and she was extremely obvious. Brittany had never seen someone who tried so, so hard and was so painfully lacking in self-awareness. 

It was almost cute. 

Brittany knew this woman’s type just from looking at her. She was also a little psychic. 

She could tell this stranger was such a stereotypical arrogant womanizer with an ego the size of a small planet and thought of women as nothing more than warm bodies. She was so vain, she probably looked at herself in every reflective surface she passed. She was so selfish and spoiled that she thought the world revolved around her. 

She was totally Brittany’s type. 

She didn’t need her though. She was done with playboys forever. 

At least that’s what she told herself when she followed her friends over to the bar. She taken a few sips from the strawberry daiquiri in her hand when she began to blink in confusion as a margarita was placed in front of her. 

“It’s from that lady over there. She sent this and she asked me to tell you that you’re stunning.” 

“Aw, that’s sweet. Tell her I’m so not interested.” Brittany quipped with a sassy flip of her long wavy hair. 

Brittany glanced over her shoulder to see Santana waving and giving her this smug smile that made these stupid, cute dimples deepen on both of her cheeks.

Tina and her other friends were just watching her with amusement as Brittany continued to ignore Santana. All of her friends clearly found this so hilarious, though they were supporting her in her decision to completely ignore all the perverts and fuckboys who were trying to get her. 

“Wow, Santana’s really going for it. Looks like someone’s dying for your attention.” Mike chuckled. 

“Ugh, here we go. I so don’t care. She’s just horny. Why do they always see a woman sitting alone and assume she wants a companion?” The sass was dripping from Brittany’s voice as she tossed her hair back over her shoulder and curled her lip, ignoring the drink Santana sent her. “Newsflash, no thanks.” 

Santana kept giving her the eye no matter how much Brittany made it clear that she wasn’t going to fall into her arms. Ugh, Brittany rolled her eyes with exasperation and amusement, couldn’t Ms. Egotistical take a hint?

Apparently not. 

“Oh don’t look now, here she comes. She got it bad.” Sugar snorted as everyone began to chuckle at the sight of Santana Lopez swaggering over with her shoulders thrown back.

Brittany had to hand it to her, the woman was the only one who had been brave enough to approach her like this all night. 

Too bad the blonde was so not in the mood. 

Brittany was feeling bitchy. She knew the routine by now. They all wanted to know her name, her number, her sign… Brittany was curious about whatever sleazy pick-up line Ms. Arrogant was going to give her and she didn’t disappoint. 

Santana had this stupid, cute cheesy smirk on her face and her teeth were gleaming white. 

She was so typical Hollywood sleaze.  

“Hi. You’re gorgeous,” Okay, she was starting off being a little charming with that opening line, Brittany had to admit but she just knew the sleaze would be coming next. “Dayum, Girl. Where’d you learn to dance like that? Who you dancing like that for looking all hot like that?”

Not for you, Jerk :) That’s for sure. 

“What I want to know is, what time them legs open?” 

Like I haven’t heard that one a million times before… 

It was so lame. Even though she was in stunned disbelief, Brittany couldn’t help but notice Santana now and she gave it back to her with a sassy comeback of her own. 

“Oh, is that supposed to be a pick up line?” 

Brittany was beginning to wonder if Santana had ever actually flirted with a woman before, far less managed to pick up one. There was a flash of lust in her dark eyes when Brittany said that and she looked as if she was about to combust on the spot. 

“So, you know, I’m on top of things. Would you like to be one of them?”

Brittany could barely hold back her laugh, cupping a hand over her mouth as she rolled her eyes. Santana continued to puff up her chest and peacock around her, as if she expected Brittany to be totally impressed. 

“Ooo, is it hot in here, or is it just you?”

She could not be for real. This was the great, powerful celebrity Santana Lopez her friends were in awe of? She really thought she was charming the dress off of Brittany with those corny lines.

Brittany couldn’t wait to tell Tina about this later. She knew her friend would be laughing about it forever. 

“Ooo, I’m in trouble.”

Santana as always, was unfazed by Brittany’s ice cold, dismissive attitude. The preppy blonde decided to tease her even more, getting close and poking her finger into Santana’s chest confidently. Brittany couldn’t deny that the way Santana’s eyebrows rose and her lips parted as if she was flustered by the blonde invading her personal space amused her to no end. 

“Oh that’s how it is, huh? What’s your name, Pretty Girl?” 

Anytime Brittany was snippy towards her, the woman looked at her with obvious arousal written all over her face. She was pushing back her dark hair, trying so, so hard to look all cool and suave but she had this stupid, goofy look of excitement on her face that made it difficult for Brittany not to start giggling. She had to cover her hand over her mouth as she laughed in her face. 

The more Brittany acted all aloof and mysterious, the more she turned on Ms. Egomaniac. She swore she saw the woman clenching her thighs together when Brittany gave another sassy response to her. 

Brittany had been one of the most popular cheerleaders at school and homecoming queen. She knew how to handle vain, uncouth Santana Lopez types. 

Except she had never met anyone quite as hot as Santana before. 

Now that she was so physically close to Santana, she couldn’t stop herself from checking the girl out, noticing that she was slightly shorter than her with a toned, slim build that the simple black dress she was wearing displayed so well. Brittany couldn’t help but notice the slight muscle tone in her arms and how radiant her brown skin was. 

Santana gave her another smug look, as if she could tell that Brittany liked what she saw. Whatever. If she thought Brittany was just going to give in to her, she had another thing coming. 

If there was one thing Brittany knew, it was flirting. 

She learned it straight from her blonde, buxom mother, the original harlot and heartbreaker of Lima in her day before she had settled down. If she wanted to, she could get this girl into bed, easy as ABC. 

Brittany didn’t even have to try and that’s exactly why she wasn’t gonna let her get what she wanted so easily. 

The blonde dancer totally knew the effect she had on her. It was so easy to rile the dark-haired woman up and as she beckoned her closer with a finger, Santana kept gazing at her lips, making it so obvious what she wanted. 

She leaned closer, knowing that Santana would feel her breathing against her neck and as she expected, there was a sharp, aroused intake of breath from the Latina.

She even closed her eyes, puckering her lips as if Brittany was going to kiss her. 

As if.

“My name is no. My sign is no. My number is no. You need to let it go.”

She couldn’t stop giggling at the sight of Santana frozen in place with her lips sticking out, clearly not expecting this turn of events as Brittany just sang that song to her. 

No kisses for you, Hot Shot, She smiled to herself. 

Talk about embarrassing. How was Ms. Big Shot Movie Star ever gonna recover from that one? 

Brittany was a professional dancer and she could easily outdo everyone in the club but that didn’t seem to stop Santana from trying to keep up with her. She began to dance beside her energetically as Temperature by Sean Paul played. 

“You’re cocky. That’s how you dance?” Brittany was in stunned disbelief yet again, amused by the way Santana was being so ridiculous. She was clearly trying so hard to impress her and it was having the opposite effect. Santana was being such a clown and people around them were starting to give them strange looks. 

“You like that, huh, Babe?” The woman was all up on her, her arm settling around her waist as she husked into her ear. “You want all up on this, don’t you? I’ll make you feel so good, Princess. Trust me. I’ll make you scream my name.” 

Santana’s voice was so hazy and raspy. Brittany felt heat rush to her face, right up her neck to her ears, shocked by what she heard… and kind of intrigued. Santana couldn’t really think Brittany would give in just from that locker room talk. She didn’t want Santana to see how affected she was by her comment but of course, Santana saw everything. 

Apparently the woman noticed the blush on Brittany’s face too and she was amused. 

“Is that so?” She challenged, making sure to flutter her eyelashes.

“You bet. I think we should get to know each other better. Preferably with way less clothes on.”

Was that the best Santana had? 

“Hmm, oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? What else?”

“Roses are red, violets are fine. You be a six and I’ll be a nine.”

Santana might have been the funniest person to ever exist. She couldn’t be for real. 

“Mm hm. Is that all?” 

The celebrity began to tell her all about what she wanted to do with her when she got her in bed, making her appreciation for Brittany’s ass obvious. She wasn’t expecting her to grind up on her like that. The feeling of Santana’s hips moving against hers and her husky voice against her ear made it kind of hard for her to remember that she wasn’t supposed to give in to her.

She was such a horny jerk and Brittany’s jaw dropped in disbelief at how crude she was being as the blush in her cheeks intensified.

Santana was just a little too excited, acting as if she was entitled to getting into Brittany’s pants and that just wouldn’t do. At least not until Brittany was ready for that. If she decided she wanted her. Brittany was gonna have to remind her to back off a little until she wined and dined her enough - if Brittany deigned to allow her to. 

She wagged a finger. 

“Nuh uh. I don’t think so.” 

She needed to extract herself from Santana’s arms. So she raised her knee the way she saw on a TV show about women defending themselves from muggers and got her right up in the area between her legs. 

Not in a fun way either. 

Santana’s eyes went comically wide in stunned disbelief and she took a tumble on her ass. 

“Did I do that? Oops! My Bad!” She giggled with faux-innocence, not meaning a word of it. 

Brittany walked back over to her friends victoriously as they clapped and cheered for her. In fact, almost the entire club had stopped to watch the whole spectacle as Santana struggled to regain her dignity. 

“Brittany, I am so proud of you. You are the ultimate boss, oh my God!” Tina congratulated her then turned back to her phone. “Santana Lopez getting clamslammed and kneed right in the vagina by a mystery woman is already trending on Twitter.” 

“You’re not leaving with her?” Sugar looked shocked when the blonde waltzed over, making her exit. Brittany not going home with someone, especially someone like Santana, was about as rare as a blue moon.  “This never happens. She’s just your type. She’s rich, super famous, good-looking, shallow, dumb…” 

“Not really. She’s gonna have to try harder if she wants all of this.” Brittany flipped her hair over her shoulder with complete confidence and sass, gesturing to the curves of her body. She knew Santana could hear her. Santana blinked at her stupidly a few times, apparently disoriented by her hotness. 

She turned just in time to see Santana limping over to her pathetically. 

Brittany was confused. Why was Santana gazing at her in fascination, as if Brittany was the most gorgeous, entrancing being she had ever encountered even though her groin and ego were in a world of hurt?

“What’s your name?”

Maybe it was because Santana was so cute but Brittany couldn’t help but flirt a little despite herself. Maybe she didn’t want their game to be over just yet. They were both sweaty and flushed, somewhat breathless from all the dancing. 

“You need to let it go,” She teased, watching Santana closely as the woman attempted to regain her composure and act like she was unaffected. “It’s Brittany.” 

____

That would be far from the last she saw of Ms. Can't Take No For An Answer, even if she had humiliated her. 

She had never met anyone quite as determined and persistent as Santana Lopez. 

Apparently, when the Empress of the Universe wanted something, she always got her way and she wasn’t accustomed to being told “No.” 

Apparently Santana was really into the whole prissy mean girl side of Brittany.

She was also the most obvious person on the face of the planet. Brittany snorted when Tina sent her a link to a new article. The headline was pretty interesting. 

Santana Lopez Dedicates New Hit Single to Mystery Blonde - Who is “Brittany from The Pussy Cat?”

A video of her giving Santana a swift knee upward to the vaginal area had gone viral as well. 

Even Santana’s hardcore fans were amused by it all. 

Brittany noticed that Santana had left a bunch of comments on her thirst traps, making it extremely clear what she thought of them. The internet was going crazy making fun of how lusty and obsessed Santana was being but that hadn’t seemed to deter the woman either, despite Brittany ignoring all of her attempts to hit on her. 

That Brittany S. Pierce must have some Grade A Prime Pussy for Santana to be simping this hard for her… 

“Jesus Christ, the thirst,” Tina chuckled as Mike, Marley and Sugar couldn’t stop giggling beside her on the couch in the blonde’s apartment when she showed them her phone screen. They read yet another private message the woman sent to Brittany that was strongly suggesting what she wanted to do with her. “Goddamn. She really wants you.” 

“She’s just horny for me. She’ll get over it.” 

I’m just another conquest for her… 

“Be honest, do you think she’s attractive?” Sugar asked, raising an eyebrow. “At all?” 

She had watched all of Santana’s scenes on Bad Girls Club several times, looked at a bunch of her magazine photoshoots - she figured she needed to do her research, after all - and she even loved her songs that flopped.  That didn’t mean anything though. Santana Lopez was just a silly pompous rich girl just like the rest of them. 

“I mean, if you’re into the whole disgruntled, awkward cat aesthetic maybe. Her upper lip kinda reminds me of a duck.” She deflected. 

Everyone laughed as she said this. 

“You definitely should stay away from her. I know Santana well and she’s a total arrogant jerk. She thinks of women as disposable objects.” 

“Oh, is she?” Brittany snorted sarcastically. “That’s a shocker. Don’t worry, Tina, believe me you don’t have to worry about me falling for her.” 

Brittany’s apartment was so very pink and decorated in such an eccentric way that most people were a little taken aback when they walked in for the first time.

Eventually, her entire living space became crowded with bouquets of pink flowers Santana had sent to her address. She sent ridiculously expensive jewellery, chocolates, and dresses. Brittany didn’t even know how she figured out all of Brittany’s favourite colours and things like that but she wasn’t about to get rid of them… she liked expensive gifts. 

She never responded to any of Santana’s gifts, knowing it would drive her insane. Santana got her number from Tina and Mike, who were their mutual friends. Truth be told, Tina had always found Santana annoying anyway and they were more like frenemies as that feeling was mutual, so she was happy to assist Brittany in her plan to troll Santana.

Brittany answered Santana’s calls just enough to toy with her and keep her guessing, then ignored her whenever she felt like it. 

It was all part of her plan. 

“What am I supposed to do with all of this stuff?” The blonde whined halfheartedly as Lord Tubbington knocked over the growing pile of chocolate boxes. 

“You could send it back if you really don’t want it.” Mike suggested with a shrug. 

“I would… but pink diamonds are really nice,” Brittany pouted. “I might need another dress too.”

“This almost sounds like one of those sugar daddy type of situations,” The man shook his head at her, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I’m not surprised, since it’s you after all.” 

“Except, she won’t be getting any sugar.” Britt winked. Tina smirked at her in agreement, giving her a high five. 

“You are the queen of manipulation. You’re really gonna get this woman to spend herself bankrupt, aren’t you? Yes, Girl. I say, use all the power you have to your advantage. Stress that fuckgirl out. Make her work for it, Britt. Make her suffer!” 

Sugar, Marley and Jake fell silent, taken aback by the short, gothic woman. Mike glanced over with a nervous expression as he heard Tina’s words, followed by her evil cackle. 

“You’re torturing the shit out of her! I love it. Get it, Girl.” 

Brittany felt proud. 

“Hey, if she wants all this she’s gonna have to work for it.” 

“Hey, Britt, I think there’s someone at your door. Must be another delivery from Ms. Egomaniac.” Sugar chimed in. 

The tall blonde just shrugged, traipsing over and eventually returning with a new parcel. Brittany blushed reddish pink up to her ears, gasping at a new, skimpy lingerie set that she unwrapped. She held up the light blue, lacy lingerie as her friends began to wolf whistle jokingly and some of them made gagging noises. 

Against her better judgment, she answered Santana’s call when that familiar number flashed on her phone a few minutes later. 

“You’ve got a lot of nerve sending this,” She sniffed, trying to sound bitchy and cold as she told her off. “Do you really think that’s appropriate? You horny bastard.” 

Santana was laughing down the line. She was actually laughing, that cheeky bitch. 

“You like it, Babe? Gonna put it on and model it just for me, Querida?”

“I am not your Querida.” 

She did like the lingerie a lot but Santana didn’t need to know that. If her ego got any bigger it would probably explode. 

She hung up before Santana could answer. Deep down, she knew Santana would love that response even more. 

****Read the rest of this story on AO3

[oknowkiss]

a year in fic!

thank you to @wolfpants for the tag! what a fun idea. see here for their incredible work (340k in a year and each word a banger, like, how!) no pressure tagging @geesenoises @eveningstruggle @corvuscrowned @sorrybutblog @saintgarbanzo @academicdisasterfic @mintawasalreadytaken @vukovich and you!

Rules: Share 1 line from each fic you wrote this year. In 2022 I wrote: ~250k words over 15 fics (lmaooooo) 

JANUARY - FEBRUARY

UNPOSTED WIP that I worked on every day for two months and have not touched since, to be posted TBD in 2023 || Drarry || 40K at the moment

Harry hopes when he goes his eyes are open, like Fred’s were, so that the people who are with him then will look down into his face and see not anger or grief or pain, but a constellation of stars, never setting.

MARCH

big hands, i know you’re the one || drarry || 887 || M

The day Hogwarts realised Draco Malfoy, reformed Death Eater (and was that kind of hot, now? Now that he wasn’t trying to kill them all? Sort of a bad boy thing?), had really quite big hands was an unmitigated disaster.

APRIL

any day now || drarry || 17K || E

Draco is aware he comes from a long line of extremely intelligent wizards who somehow, with very few exceptions, haven’t made a single smart decision between them.

scarhead || drarry || 2K || E

He scratches absentmindedly at the scabs on his chest as he imagines them -- his observers -- wandering through the world, their pockets full up with gold and his secret.

a licence to kill || drarry, past-nottpott, past-dramione || 11K WIP || M

The Department of Magical Licences, Permits, and Assorted Permission Granting (or, as it’s more commonly referred as, and always in grumbled utterance: the DOMLPAPG) is located on Level 1, just to the left as you exit the lifts.

MAY

acts of service || drarry || 5.6K || E

Draco had fucked him three times that night –- first in the hallway, to remind Harry what he’d been missing; second in the kitchen, now that Draco knew how much he’d been missed; third in the bedroom, face to face this time, rough and in love –- so when Harry woke up on Monday with a raw throat they both figured it was because that’s where Draco’s cock had been.

jesus, etc || drarry, charlie/draco/harry, charlie/draco || 1.5K || E

They drink at the table where Harry once found it easy, being in love. Where he kissed the tender expanse of Draco’s open palm.

JUNE

the complete idiot’s guide to losing your entire mind || drarry || 10K || E

They weren't to go to Harry's flat, because it was “a cry for help” and made Draco sad.

in between two tall mountains (there’s a place they call lonesome) || drarry, past-hansy || 8K || E

He rests a hand on top of Harry’s, intertwining their fingers so he can lift them up and turn his mouth to the palm, and when he kisses it Harry smells rich like ancient pines and beds of thick moss, and the taste of his skin is lovely, warm despite the rain.

SEPTEMBER

eager for the sky || drarry, background ronarry || 35K || M

Draco had imagined this moment often, in so many permutations, trying to prepare himself for how it might feel, to rehearse in his mind so as not to make a total wang of himself in the actual doing of it. He’d accounted for a variety of extenuating circumstances, but what he hadn’t anticipated was the kindness of Potter’s touch.

the july tree || drarry, hinny || 52K || E

Harry wondered sometimes if being raised in an environment of constant withholding hadn’t developed in him a deep, gnawing avarice, as though instead of a heart he’d been given the Room of Requirement, a space that could never be filled.

OCTOBER

the long ways || drarry, harry/omc || 10K || M

“I should go,” Draco says.

“You should,” Harry says. “Or we could get a last round, before you run out of my life forever, again.”

NOVEMBER

100 beats per minute || drarry, harry/omc(s) || 14K || E

“Ten a day, I figure.” Potter shrugged. “On a circuit weekend? How hard can it be.”

“You tell me.” Draco looked pointedly at the spot on the table where Potter’s lap would be, if he could see it.

DECEMBER

fest fic! watch this space

soon to be posted self-indulgent WIP || drarry, harry/charlie, harry/bill || 10K and counting || E

“Nasty habit of yours, surviving,” Draco says. He puts a hand on Harry’s throat and squeezes, as though testing the veracity of his musculature. “Like a cockroach.”

[frxncisbelle]

Welcome to Aurora Bay, FRANCIS BELLE! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like COLIN FARRELL. You must be the FORTY-TWO year old SOMMELIER/WINERY OWNER. Word is you’re SUPPORTIVE but can also be a bit GLOOMY and your favorite song is I'M SO LONESOME I COULD CRY by AL GREEN. I also heard you’ll be staying in CRYSTAL BAY CONDOMINIUMS. I’m sure you’ll love it! (@aurorabayaesthetic)

CHARACTER INFO

full name: francis emmanuel belle nickname: franny (by loved ones) // sad guy (by everyone else) age: forty-two birthday: june 28th gender: cis male sexuality: homosexual

p e r s o n a l i t y

positive traits: supportive, faithful, communicative, selectively patient

negative traits: gloomy, pessimistic, fearful, persnickety

l i f e s t y l e

birthplace: cincinnati, ohio

hometown: los angeles, california

education: university of california, berkley

occupation: sommelier / winery owner (kinda sorta a ha ha)

religion: agnostic (catholic)

languages spoken: english, spanish

hobbies: pretending that everything is fine when, in fact, it is not; starting new hobbies and then pointedly deciding to not finish them; vinyl-record collecting; trying new tik-tok recipes but forgetting that every time the phone locks he has to go back and find the video again (he did not, in fact, bookmark the video).

f a m i l y

parents: adam belle (divorced/re-married), elizabeth belle (single/preferrably widowed)

siblings: bebe belle (divorced); chloe belle (divorced); alyssa belle (divorced), gabriel belle (separated); gavin belle (divorced); julian belle (separated); alfie bonas (step-sibling)

children: imagine

pets: one tabby cat and one chihuahua

BIO

born to a father with an impossible dream and a mother with a xanax prescription, francis learned, at a very young age, that people are impossible to please. when he held his mother's hand as she pushed out his first sister — a task typically reserved for a father or father-like-figure — and, subsequently, asked her 4-year-old-first-born-who-could-barely-say-one-word-let-alone-two to name her second-born, francis also learned that people are impossible to know. these unshakeable principles have not only guided him throughout his forty-two years, but they have also cemented him as a perpetual worrier.

his childhood, adolescence, teenage-years, and young adulthood were about as constant and stable as the los-angeles metro system. somehow, despite the years spent desperately trying to cultivate a family dynamic that could make everyone happy, he got caught up in his father's plans. one-day, his father sat him down and uttered two unforgivable phrases: "i plan on divorcing your mother" and "i'd like you to take over the family business one day." the business in question was more of a miracle than a tried-and-true american success story. the finer details are irrelevant (indeed, francis likes to pretend he does not remember the years his father spent unloading burden after burden upon his tender head), but the important bit is that adam belle made a very successful name for himself as a winery/business tycoon.

in his late thirties and early forties, francis found himself realizing that the life he led was not the one he thought he was leading. he's faced with several (believe me, several) options, and he has thought up an innumerable amount of contingency plans, but he just cannot bring himself to do the unimaginable: ruin his family's past, present, and future by giving it all up. possibly, one day soon, he will realize that all he needs to be happy is his own approval and his own peace... but that will likely never happen.

HEADCANONS & FUNNY BITS

...has given SEVERAL grifters a [REDACTED} amount of cash money to avoid conflict.

listens to embarrassing europop before/after work to feel something.

to be updated gradually !!

WANTED CONNECTIONS

to be updated soon !!

i apologize for being scum. as i write this, it is currently 9:45 pm and i gotta go to bed. i will be updating this in the coming days as i have ideas.

[whumpshaped]

tw pet whump, nonhuman whumper, whumper turned whumpee, humiliation, dehumanisation, handfed, phobia exploited (fear of electrocution), shock collar

"'I think if I could whump you, it would be fun to make you lose your dignity.'" 

Seth scoffed. Of course. 

"I've already done that, don't you think, Chewtoy?" Anton grinned at him, seemingly pleased with the glare he got in response. "Making you kneel, check. Get a shock collar for when you're bad, check. The only thing that I haven't done yet… 'Only letting you eat if it's out of a dog bowl or my hand.'"

"Respectfully," he started calmly, forcing his tone to be even, "I'd rather starve, Sir."

"It's really unfortunate then that your preference holds absolutely no weight here."

Seth swallowed against the shock collar, scared of pushing it further. If Anton wanted to make him do it, ultimately, he would. 

"Grab some human food from the kitchen," he said nonchalantly, already reading the next ask. "And hurry up. There are so many more fun ones. These humans are almost tolerable with their little ideas."

Seth pushed themself up, dragging their constantly aching body to the human quarters to look in the cabinets. He needed something dry, something small, something delicious so that at least it would take away some of his annoyance. Chocolate. 

His hand stopped mid-air, hovering above the treat. Chocolate would melt if Anton wanted to handfeed him. Or would it? Vampires weren't as warm… If it did, was he the kind of freak to stick his fingers in his mouth? 

He wouldn't.

Right?

His shock collar suddenly went off, and he yelped, grabbing the stupid chocolate and running back out. They pushed down the urge to throw it at him, and instead dropped back to their knees, handing it over like a good pet.

"For a moment I thought you got lost," Anton sneered, ripping open the packaging. It was just chocolate. It didn't matter how he was eating it. Just chocolate, good, delicious, almost his favourite kind as well. If he ever got out, he'd never look at it again. "Sit pretty for me."

Just chocolate. Focus on the chocolate. Back straight, head up, focus on the fucking chocolate-

"I said sit pretty." Anton nudged their hands with his foot, and Seth reluctantly pulled them up like little puppy paws. He felt his face heating up. "There we go. What a good boy." 

Chocolate. Focus. Focus. 

As they went to take the first bite, Anton pulled it away. Taunting them. "Beg." 

"No." It slipped out before Seth could stop it, but he already regretted it when he saw the vampire reach for the remote. "No, wait-"

The collar went off again, shooting electricity through his body. Stop. Stop, please.

"Beg."

"Please." They tried to think through the haze of panic that was quickly descending on them like a thick layer of fog, trying to think of the right thing to say. "Please, let m-me eat?" Another shock coursed through their poor system, making them cry out. "Master! M-Master, I'm sorry, please, p-please let me have that, please Master-"

"Don't get so worked up over a little treat." He could barely hold back his laugh, but Seth couldn't find it in him to care. "You can have it, Chewtoy." 

It wasn't just chocolate anymore. It was a reward, it was the lack of punishment, and each bite he was allowed to take was another second spent without being shocked. It was gone within a minute, though, and Seth was forced to sit back on his heels and await the verdict. Was it enough?

"Fuck, you humans are so gross…" Oh god. The chocolate really melted. "How can you eat this stuff? Well, since you're already here…"

Anton stuck his fingers in their mouth faster than they could've protested, and the lingering terror of the shock collar made them way too eager to please – which meant he didn't waste a single second in licking off the chocolate, much to Anton's amusement.

"Look at you, being a good pet. Very dignified."

~

taglist: @whumpsday @whump-queen @lost-in-labradorite-halls @hidden-dreamland @lonesome--hunter

[petervc88]

Cappelle Classics - Country - 9 juli 2024

Terug luisteren kan hier.

Dit was de playlist:

Johnny Cash - Folsom Prison Blues (live) David Allan Coe - She Used To Love Me A Lot Hank Williams - I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry Dolly Parton - Coat Of Many Colours Kris Kristofferson - Help Me Make It Through The Night Willie Nelson, Snoop Dogg & Kris Kristofferson - Roll Me Up Buck Owens - Act Naturally Paul McCartney & Wings - Sally G Merle Haggard - Big City Vince Gill - Don't Let Our Love Start Slippin' Away The Judds - Why Not Me? Waylon Jennings - I'm A Ramblin' Man The Highwomen - Loose Change The Chicks - There's Your Trouble Yola - Ride Out In The Country Leah Blevins - First Time Feeling Eric Church - Springsteen Glen Campbell - Rhinestone Cowboy

Volgende week dinsdagavond van 22:00 t/m 23:00 is er weer een nieuwe uitzending van Cappelle Classics op Ice Radio. De uitzending wordt op donderdag van 13:00 tot 14:00 herhaald.

[ultimatetwang]

Bill Monroe "Bluegrass Special" Classic Album Review 1963

Bill Monroe “Bluegrass Special” Classic Album Review 1963

1963 release for Bluegrass legend and pioneer Bill Monroe

Bill Monroe never made a bad album. Some were better than others, but even the weakest Bill Monroe album is still a good listen. Often, better than other artists’ best work (like most of today’s acts, for instance).

So, it is with today’s Classic Album Review, Bluegrass Special. It’s not his strongest album, lacking more than anything,…

[fuwushiguro]

Just Add Water

𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Genre: Smut Notes: Ending the week with daddy, is anyone surprised? Warnings: 18+, squirting, vaginal sex implied, consensual encounters, mean!Megumi, vibrator teasing, cheating, daddy kink, overstimulation, noncon eavesdropping. Words: 1.4k

Toji has never had a problem with you since you started dating Megumi. You’ve always been quite timid and shy but you’re always so polite when you come over to spend the night. He likes that you seem to be a good influence on his kid. You’ve helped him with his career path and saving up to get a place of his own for the two of you. And you’re definitely a hard worker. An office job and a job as a waitress at a local café must take its toll on your body. Which is why he can understand why you always seem to have such slow, lazy sex with his son. The walls are thin, it’s not like he’s listening on purpose. Though even he can’t deny how his cock stiffens as he imagines your perfect body and sweet faces as you writhe and moan as you’re filled to the brim with cock. He ignores it, usually, but tonight was a little different. Your moans are much louder than usual. He could clearly hear that you were even cumming louder than usual.

“M-Megumi, ‘m sorry! That’s never happened before…” you tell him as you cover yourself in the duvet, utterly ashamed of the mess you’ve made of his bedsheets.

“It’s… ugh. It’ll be fine, but… a little warning, maybe? I could have put some towels down or something.” he sighs as he realises he’s going to have to put fresh bedding on before the two of you go to sleep. “Didn’t realise I was dating a porn star, s’all.” he continues.

“P-Please don’t make fun,” you respond as your lip wobbles while you attempt to hold back your tears. You don’t think you have ever felt so awful. You really don’t believe you could feel any worse if you tried. “You know I didn’t mean it. I guess it just felt so… good.” you speak, trying to justify yourself and hope to earn his forgiveness.

Toji is dying for one of you to just say the damn word. He’s certain he knows what happened. What you did. What the two of you are getting at. But he needs confirmation. That isn’t so hard understand, is it? His heart is hammering away in anticipation. Just say it. Just fucking say it.

“Sorry. Maybe I’m trying to make light of things since you practically wet the bed. I’m a little grossed out, I guess. I… I think I’ll sleep on the couch and clean up tomorrow, you take the spare room.” he tells you.

You don’t remember your boyfriend being so mean. Angsty? Sure. Moody? Absolutely. But mean? Never, not to you at least. Even Toji can’t believe his ears. Of course he knows his son can be a miserable little prick at times but he never thought he’d take it out on you. He still doesn’t have the verbal confirmation of what happened, but he knows. Megumi is a fool for being so disgusted at what you did.

It’s one of Toji’s favourite things in the world.

That’s why he is waiting for his chance to pounce once he hears Megumi go downstairs. He’s lingering, hovering around his bedroom door as he waits for the creaky floorboards to tell him you’re going to the guest room.

There it is.

The door swings open and you just about died of fright.

“Toji, Jesus Christ you scared the shit out of me.” you whisper, trying to keep your voice down and avoid irritating Megumi even more.

“Come here,” he insists, widening his bedroom door and demanding you follow, “you’ve been cryin’.” he bluntly confesses he’s been listening to you as you wait in the door frame. You’re unsure of what to do. It seems a little weird to go into your soon-to-be father in law’s room in the dead of night.

“I think I’m going to go to bed, actually.” you tell him, turning away and facing the direction of the spare room.

“Darlin’, your eyes are as swollen as golf balls. Really don’t think I could live with myself if you cry yourself to sleep on your lonesome.” he sighs.

You want to leave but there’s something so intoxicating about him that you can’t pull away. You’re trying to walk one way but your feet is taking you the other. The door is shutting behind you and you’re sitting next to him on his enormous bed. There’s a look in his eye, a look that’s making your heart race. It’s carnal. Predatory. Your heart is beating in your ears, and you know you’ve made a mistake by coming in here.

“Is there something you need from me, Toji?” you wonder, wide-eyes filled to the brim with tears. You choke on your rational thinking as Toji hovers over you. His knee between your thighs and driving into your messy cunt. “I don’t… I don’t like this, Toji. What are you—?”

“It sounded like my son didn’t appreciate your talent,” he snarls, “but I do. Will you let daddy show you how much?” he wonders. You begin stuttering and stammering like a nervous child. He heard you? Does he always hear the two of you being intimate with each other?

“I don’t- I don’t know what you’re talking about. M-My talent?” you question. He laughs, resting his forehead against yours.

“You squirted, didn’t you?” he presses. Your eyes scrunch closed in embarrassment, but he kisses your cheek hoping you’ll open them again. “I love makin’ pretty pussies gush like that f’me. Megumi’s a fool. I’ll let you ruin my bed and I’ll praise you for it. I’ll make you do it again and again until that is the only reason you’re cryin’. What do you say?”

He’s so brash. But since you met Toji he’s never been one to mince his words. He’s so cocksure and certain of himself. He loves making dirty jokes and isn’t shy about bringing random women home. This, however, is a new level of brazenness. You’re dating his son and he’s propositioning you like he’s asking for a stick of gum. Your mouth falls open and closes again and again. What can you even say? It’s unbelievable. Unthinkable. And yet…

“I- yes. God, fuck, please. I want you. Make me do it.”

“Fuuuuuck, sweetheart. Yes, just like that.” he moans in your ear as he forces your fourth orgasm out of you. Positively dousing the bedding in your release. You can’t believe you’ve got anything left to give. But you do, and you want to do it again. Although you’re not sure you can.

“T-Toji, please. I don’t think—” you’re interrupted as he puts the vibration settings of his Hitachi wand to the highest possible. Your head lolling back and resting on his shoulder as he kisses your exposed neck.

“That’s right, baby. Don’t fuckin’ think. Just cum everywhere, alright? Daddy wants you to fucking cum like a good little girl for him.” he whispers.

He wraps his arm around your torso to prevent you from bucking as wildly. He’s so big and strong, you think if you cum one more time you might melt against him. It’s hard to breathe. It’s hard to focus on cumming again when you’re so fucked out. It didn’t come as a shock to discover he owned a vibrator. It’s his ace in the hole to keep women wanting more. More him. And unfortunately for you, after this, you think you may have fallen for it.

“You’re so beautiful when you moan…” he tells you quietly. You’re biting your lower lip as you finally feel the steady climb of an orgasm vibrate through your clit. You feel it in your lower stomach, your legs, your toes. It’s close. “Gorgeous when you cum f’me… when you mess daddy’s bed up. Mmpf, baby. Can you feel how hard I am? Gonna make you cum even harder when I fuck you. But you gotta give me one more… give me one—”

“Nngh—!” you cry, water evading your pussy as he finally coaxes what he wants from you. He doesn’t pull the vibrator away, knowing fine well that it’s too much for you to handle. A large, heavy palm covers your mouth to stop you from screaming into the lecherous air you had created together. He gives you a chance to relax, to breathe. It’s your first break since you got started.

Fuck.

You can see the light pouring through the trees.

“We shouldn’t tell Megumi about this…” you breathe. “But let’s do that again.”

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© 2022 fuwushiguro

[vintageaustin]

baby fever

Elvis!Austin x reader;

Summary: you and Elvis have been married

For about 3 years now and he thinks its time for a baby

Tw/mentions: baby fever pregnancy uh ye that’s about it

Elvis just got off of tour. And it honestly felt like he never left you. Of course at times it felt lonely in Graceland alone in such a big house but you. Always made sure to invite your friends and family over. Knowing your husband wouldn’t have wanted you to be lonesome.

But it still felt better to have him home. Where he was close to you, it was a Sunday afternoon and your brother had just dropped his kids of at your house. Since It was date night for him and his mrs  he had 3 kids a little girl named Lilly she was 6 years of age and  then he had a 4 year old son named Billy and a 2 month old names James. You loved having your little cousins over and Elvis in full honesty didn’t mind either.

Elvis and Billy were playing catch in the yard while you and Lilly were painting each others nails as you heard a cry coming from the living room. You smiled softly at Lilly and told her you’d be right back you. You made your way into the living room and the crying stopped immediately you softly smiled. As you picked up the sniffling baby up.  And rocked him softly in your arms not noticing your husband leaning against the door watching you closely. Elvis smiled seeing you with kids warmed his heart and it just made him love you so much more he carefully made his way towards you and wrapped his arms around you “hi there mama’s” he whispered against your head and kissed it softly as he watched your nephew fall asleep in your arms again.

You smiled and looked at your husband “hey there mr Presley…want to hold the baby” you whispered and your husband looked at you dumbstruck “a-are you sure darlin’ I m-mean he’s very tiny and i-“ you’re husband stammered. You chuckled and nodded your head “ye’ just ya know support his head” you said as you carefully handed him the baby. you and Elvis never really thought about having kids or even talked about it before. But in that moment he was so sure you could have a family and have your own babies running around.

It was 10 o’clock when you’re brother picked his kids up. You were currently in the kitchen cleaning as you felt two strong arms wrap around you as Elvis rested has hands on your stomach and whispered in your ear “so I was thinkin’ what if we start our own family have our own litter running around huh how does that sound mama?” he asked purring into your ear you looked stunned and turned around to face your husband “r-really?” you stuttered and Elvis looked at you nodding his head “if you want to have my babies of course” he said with sincere In his eyes you nodded your head enthusiastically and kissed your husband “then what are you waiting for mr Presley” you smiled and Elvis picked you up taking you to your shared bedroom

Hi creator here this is my first Elvis/Austin fic! I hope you guys like it feedback is always welcome requests are open and pls let me know if I missed triggers or grammar mistakes

[shorkbrian]

I swear I ain’t in it for the money, but I can’t stop thinking about sugar daddy shoto. Maybe he sweeps a cute little college kid or barista of their feet, just something fun and casual. But this man starts falling harder, needing a way to lock them down to him. Money isn’t quite cutting it anymore, so he decides fucking a baby into her would do the trick. Shoto would push her down into the mattress, large frame twisting her into a sweet mating press. This way they could stay together forever and Shoto would have absolutely no problem providing for his sweet family <3

but fr tho I feel like Shouto is NOT the type for kids.

Mans will tolerate them when they babble or wave at him, but he very actively Does Not Want them.

Always uses condoms, and even though he’ll threaten not to, it’s never a legit thought in his mind to cum inside. Shouto doesn’t want to be a dad.

-----

You’ll be sittin on a park bench, fading sunset dark and pretty in front of you yet all you can do is cry. There’s not really any people around so it’s not like you’re bothering anyone - you hadn’t wanted to cry in your shabby apartment (half the cause of your worries) just in case you received a noise complaint.

“Are you alright?”

A somber, smooth voice is heard. You’re swiping at your tears quickly as you look up, trying to laugh off your state of distress. “Oh, haha, yeah I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” It’s hard to smile with your puffy cheeks and red-rimmed eyes.

The man in front of you frowns, hands in his coat pockets, scarf draped around his neck. “You don’t look fine. Mind if I sit?”

He’s already claiming the spot next to you on the bench before you can say a word, turning to you with a passive expression. “Why are you crying?”

And that’s all it takes to have you breaking down all over again, tears streaming down your face. Just one person offering to listen to the heavy burden you have to bear.

‘’M sor-sorry...” You sob, wiping at your eyes with frigid fingers, successful in doing nothing more but smearing tears around your face.

“Here.” The man’s taking off his scarf, gloved hands offering it you.

“I ca-can’t use your sc-scarf sir.” But he’s insistent, pressing it into your hands up by your face.

“I’ll just get another one. Keep it, you’re in need of it more than I am.”

The kindness makes another fresh bout of tears roll down your cheeks, but this time you're able to dab them away with soft fabric as you sniffle.

It takes a moment for you to calm yourself. When you do, you can finally engage in conversation with the man.

You tell him about your job hours getting cut, how you’ve been turned down or ignored by every single place you’ve applied at for a second job. How you’re barely affording to wash your clothes - you have to hang them or drape them across things in your apartment because you don’t have the money to pay for a dryer cycle.

And to top it all off, you’re still short on rent, despite how you scrimped and saved and even forced yourself not to buy groceries this week - you’ve gone hungry for the past three days.

“You haven’t eaten?”

You glance up at the man and his incredulous expression, shaking your head. “I’ve been trying to save money, I thought I could afford my rent if-”

“What kind of food do you like?” The man is pulling out his phone, swiping and tapping immediately. 

“Thank you, but I’m not-” looking for charity is what you want to say. Plus, you shouldn’t accept favors from strange men.

But the handsome man is waving you silent. “I’m cold, plus I’d like to grab a bite to eat before I head home. I don’t like eating alone though, you’d honestly be doing me a favor.”

You take a moment to process. Is he telling the truth? He sounds like an honest guy.

“Seems like the only place open around here is “Joe’s 24 hour Diner”.... You mind burgers?”

So that's how you end up in a booth opposite the man (”Shouto” he had told you as you both headed to the diner), munching away at warm food. It tastes so good, you hardly have time to worry about the man watching you as he eats.

You’d been shocked at his looks the moment you’d seen him in the light of the diner. Pretty two-toned hair, different colored eyes, perfect skin, expensive clothes. Why was he even talking to you? It’s obvious the two of you led very different lives.

“How does everything taste?”

“Delicious.” Is your response, and Shouto seems pleased, nodding before taking another bite of his meal.

Maybe it’s stupid... but you feel weirdly safe with this man. He doesn’t seem to bear any ill-intent towards you, nor has he made any comments about your body or let his hands or eyes stray. He seems like a gentleman.

Conversation flows easily between the two of you, even sharing a few chuckles at times. He’s some fancy rich businessman, you learn, and you share about your own life, laughing at the comparisons. Shouto can’t fathom growing up in a house with less than five bedrooms and a personal servant.

He asks for your number, and you’re hesitant in giving it - he surely can’t be interested in you? But he seems so sincere, it’s hard to say no.

When the two of you part ways, Shouto gives you a wave, “Hope to see you again soon, and under better circumstances.”

“You too! And sorry for being such a mess and stopping your walk-”

Shouto shrugs, cheeks beginning to pink from the cold air as you two stand outside the diner. “You needed help. I like to assist.”

-----

The next morning you wake to find an atrociously large sum deposited in your Venmo account by none other than a Shouto Todoroki.

Immediately, you’re calling him. “It’s too much, we just met. How can you give away that much money to some low-life?”

You hear him sigh on the other end of the phone. “You’re obviously struggling. I was wondering what your hours are this week, perhaps we could talk about this over dinner? Or lunch, if that fits better with your schedule. I’m flexible.”

It’s a few days later, days spent questioning yourself, questioning his intentions, before you see him again, both of you deciding to meet for lunch to further discuss... whatever had just happened.

“Was what I gave you adequate to cover your rent?” Are the first words out of Shouto’s mouth after you greet each other.

“Yeah, more than enough-” You squirm. “But I need to ask.... why?”

“Why?”

“Why me.” 

“Oh.” Shouto’s expression clears. “That’s easy. I told you a few days ago - I like to assist. I’m quite lonely, and it feels nice to use my money on someone other than myself. I think providing for someone brings me... I wouldn’t quite say joy, but... contentment.”

You contemplate his answer for a moment. 

“Well... you saved me with my rent, I don’t really know how to thank you.”

The man leans forward. “Well.... I know it might be a bit sudden, but how would you feel accepting me as a.... benefactor of sorts?”

“You mean like a sugar daddy?” Is your immediate, blurted response. You want to slap yourself for speaking before you have the chance to think about your words, but luckily Shouto just lets out a light laugh.

“If you’d like to call it that. I’m willing to provide financial assistance for you, in exchange for companionship, if you’re willing to give it.”

Your face heats up as you drop your eyes, fidgeting nervously in your seat. “I don’t feel comfortable with a... a sexual relationshi-”

“That’s perfectly acceptable.” Shouto cuts you off before you can continue. “I wasn’t trying to insinuate a contract of that nature. I’m thinking more along the lines of accompanying me at meals, sharing experiences with me, providing company and friendship to a lonely man. If it seems that we’d like to progress further than that after we get to know each other, well, that will be addressed then. For now-” Shouto meets your eye, dipping his head a smidgeon so he can look at you directly. “All I ask for is a simple, non-intimate bond between two people.”

This is crazy.

And yet you accept.

The situation may be wild, and completely absurd, but you’d be a fool not to say yes.

Shouto is charming and handsome, respectful, courteous - you could go on and on about his positive qualities. He just seems like a sad, lonesome man swallowed by work and responsibilities, too stressed and busy to put the effort into making friends the conventional way. 

-----

Months pass by.

You’re eating at every meal, sated and never going hungry. You’re able to move into a new place, one that doesn’t smell like cigarettes and sits right next to a railroad.

Clothes aren’t a worry anymore, you have your own washer and dryer in your new apartment (Shouto offered to buy you a house, or a penthouse at the least, but you couldn’t justify it to yourself). You’re able to afford new things, and pretty dresses, shoes that are comfortable and fashionable and that fit.

You no longer have to wear clothes down until they have holes in them. You’re able to go to the doctor’s when you feel sick, able to pay for health insurance.

Life is good.

Shouto is a personable man, serious, but he can be rather funny and even crude at times.

The doubt and thoughts of “Why is he doing this for me?” and “I’m not good enough for this.” plague you, but Shouto always seems to catch on, reassuring you that you’re exactly what he needs - a friend.

And you’re more than happy to be that.

You think sometimes, that even if he wasn’t paying you, you’d still like to be friends with Shouto Todoroki.

Until he starts acting weird.

“You should just stay at my place. I have more than enough room,, it’d be easier for both our schedules. We’d get to see each other more often.”

“Uhm...” You don’t really know what to say. You like your freedom, and having your own place where you can walk around in your (expensive) underwear without being bothered.

“I think it’d be nice, don’t you? We could have breakfast every morning, you wouldn’t have to worry about traveling to and fro, we could spend more time together. We don’t see each other nearly enough.”

He’s pushing, insistent. How are you supposed to tell him no? He’s paying for your entire life. Plus, it wouldn’t be that bad to actually live with him. Shouto’s an amicable man.

So you move in.

“I bought you a few things, they’re on your bed.” 

Shouto’s striding into the kitchen where you’re making coffee, buttoning up his shirt as he comes closer. You’ve found that the man likes to sleep in nothing but boxers, shrieking and flushing an embarrassing shade the first time he’d come to wake you up with a sweet “welcome” breakfast in bed.

It’s taken a while to adjust, but you finally feel that you’re fully settled in.

“Oh, you really don’t ha-”

“I wanted to. I went through your closet - your clothes are nice, but your underwear seemed to be lacking.” He’s so matter-of-fact.

All you can do is stare at the back of his head.

“Could you pass me a spoon please?”

-----

Shouto had splurged on expensive, fancy lingerie. 

At least eight different sets were laid out on your bed. It was overwhelming. It also felt.... a bit intrusive? They were all in your size, in a complementary color for your skin tone. 

Weird.

Not as weird as the onset of Shouto’s casual touches.

You’d be reading, or drinking tea and watching cars race by on the street so far below, and Shouto would come up behind you, caress your sides before intertwining his fingers with yours on one hand. He did it as if it was a normal thing, but it felt anything but normal.

Or you’d be on the couch together, and Shouto would shuffle closer until his large body was pressed to yours, almost curled around you. The faux-cuddling was a bit more off putting. How do you tell him no?

The touches became more and more intimate, Shouto’s gifts more and more frequent until you weren’t even spending a penny, the man taking care of everything.

The arrangement was beginning to make you uncomfortable.

Shouto’s bi-colored eyes seemed to always be on you, tracing the shape of your body, watching you move, or breath, or sit. It was distracting, and you felt bad for feeling this way towards the man who’d pulled you out of poverty, but it was so unnerving.

He seemed to notice.

“You’ve been so stressed these past few days. Is something wrong?” Shouto’s rubbing a hand into your shoulder, hovering over you at the dinner table.

“No?” Is all you can manage, wiping your hands on your napkin as you finish your food.

Shouto frowns. With a sigh, his hand drops from your shoulder and the man leaves your side, heads toward the kitchen.

You clear your plate from the table, following after him so you can wash it and put it in the dishwasher before you head off to get ready for bed. 

But Shouto is rummaging in a cupboard, pulling down two wine glasses to accompany the bottle of wine that’s standing proud on the island.  It’s your favorite, a sweet wine that Shouto knows you like, always brings it out when he decides to drink whisky or bourbon after dinner.

He pops the cork and pours you a glass while you finish with your dishes, handing you the glass when you turn away from the sink, pressing it into your hands. “Let’s relax a little bit, it’ll be good for both of us.”

You’re fine with that, knowing that a little wine won’t hurt you, especially when it’s of such fine quality. You’d never dreamed that you’d be able to taste such richness in your lifetime, spend frivolous amounts of money on wine and fine eateries. Yet here you are.

Shouto pours himself a glass, barely a sip filling the bottom. The man raises it to his lips and takes a swig, grimacing a bit in his flat, unexpressive way. You giggle a little.

“Too sweet?’

The man nods, setting the glass back down. “I’m not entirely sure how you can stand to stomach it. But if it makes you happy-” He shrugs, before pulling on of the bar-stools out from under the island so he can sit facing you, long legs stretching out before him.

You look at him, and he looks at you, and then you take another sip of wine to avoid the awkwardness.

“You’re distancing yourself from me.”

The accusation is quiet, Shouto’s eyes focused on your fingers wrapped around the stem of the glass.

He’s always been straightforward with his words. “Is there a reason you keep drawing away?”

The wine disappears from your glass, sliding down your throat and settling in your stomach. You fill your glass again before speaking, struggling to find the right words without upsetting your... benefactor.

“Well, Shouto... I don’t really know how to...” You trail off, hoping Shouto will say something, change the subject, say it’s alright and move on to something else.

But the man stays silent, eyes appraising you.

Taking a deep breath, and another gulp of sweetness, you try again.

“Sometimes the closeness... like, physical closeness? Makes me, well, uncomfortable.”

Hopefully, that would satisfy his curiosity for now. That wasn’t the only reason you’d been avoiding Shouto seeming distant, but you didn’t think sharing the others would result in anything good.

Said man accepted your response, dropping his eyes to his lap as he mulled it over. More wine was consumed, glass re-filled. You felt nervous.

“You’re saying that my touch isn’t something you’d prefer.”

Biting your lip, you soften at his confused expression, at the hint of sadness swimming behind his eyes. “Kind of. I don’t mind you Shouto, you’re really kind, and you’re good company, and a wonderful friend. I just don’t think the.... the intimacy is for me.”

Shouto raises his head, stares at you with those pretty eyes, lips parted as he comes to terms with your words. 

“It sounds like you don’t trust me. I would never hurt you, you know this.”

You scramble to assure him. “I do! I do trust you, and I know you wouldn’t.” (at least you hoped) “But I guess I just... Coming into this agreement I wasn’t ready for that type of... thing. I don’t know if I ever will be.”

The man rises, shakes his head as he steps closer to you. “Don’t worry, I remember our first conversation about that aspect. I see that for you, that type of relationship would only begin after you really cared for the other person, trusted and wanted to see them happy, am I correct?”

“Oh, Shouto-” You rush. “No, I care for you, and I trust you, and of course I want to see you happy. I think it’s just, y’know, my last relationship like that went really bad, and it sucked. I don’t want to go through that again.”

Shouto nods, understanding. “I see. You don’t have to worry about any of that with me then.”

A smile crosses your face, and you feel relived that he accepted your rejection with grace and understanding instead of violence or anger. “Thank you, it means a lot to me.”

The mood of the room shifted, from tense and uncomfortable, to easy and light, and you poured another glass of wine, laughing a little at how worried you were about the conversation with Shouto, only for it all to turn out fine.

“I’m going to go drink some of the liquor that’s kept in my room. I could mix a few drinks for you to try, you might like how sweet they are. I know hard alcohol isn’t quite your thing.”

You beam a smile, nodding your head eagerly. Before, you’d feel apprehensive about going into his room with him to drink alcohol. But with the conversation the two of you just had, you knew - things would be fine.

-----

The room was spinning and you felt giddy and light. You were definitely tipsy.

“You can lay down on my bed, you’re getting wobbly on your feet.” Shouto had offered, and you’d gladly accepted, flopping down onto his comfy bedspread with a laugh at how the motion made butterflies rise in your tummy.

Shouto leaned against his dresser, swirling whiskey in his glass as he watched you, a half-smile across his face. You smiled back, before closing your eyes, a little bit tired as you realized that you might be a bit more than just tipsy.

Shouto had mixed quite a few drinks for you, and you’d drank each one eagerly, impressed with how little alcohol you could taste in each one. You don’t remember how many you had, but it didn’t really matter.

The next thing you know, hands are on your waist, scooting you further up the bed so your legs no longer hang off the edge. Cracking open an eye, you’re met with the visage of red-and-white, eyes soft and warm as they regard you, Shouto’s face tinged a bit pink from the few drinks he had consumed. The man had never been too good at holding his alcohol.

When those hands started to slip beneath your shirt, you wiggled like a little worm, not really comprehending the situation. Maybe it was a dream.

Your shirt was discarded, then your pants. It felt much more comfortable now, and you mumbled a “thanks” to the man helping you settle for bed. He was so nice, Shouto took such good care of you. You still kind of couldn’t believe the turn your life had taken with him, the good luck pushed into your path.

Someone was kissing you.

With a grunt of surprise, you kissed them back, meeting their feverish pace and trying to keep up, soft lips puckering and pushing against your own with intent. Kissing felt good. You liked kissing.

Then a hand was cupping your face, stroking tenderly over your cheek before it began sliding down, down your neck, into the valley between your breasts, trailing over your bra. It felt funny.

Pushing back for air, you gasped when the hand on your chest started squeezing at you, eyes flying open with the startling, sudden sensation.

Shouto was hovering over you, lips puffy, panting as he stared at you with lusty eyes, an uncharacteristic look on his face. This... this wasn’t supposed to be like this. You knew. Hadn’t the two of you just talked about something... important? Was it important?

You didn’t feel panic until a hand cupped your sex, feeling your skin through your panties.

This wasn’t right.

Alarm bells were ringing, dull and far away, but you didn’t think that Shouto should be touching you in such a way. you should be going to bed.

“Mm, Sho, can you stop?” But your words felt funny on your tongue, and Shouto didn’t stop. Maybe he didn’t hear you.

His hair tickled your chin as the man bent to mouth at your tits, pulling the cups of your bra underneath them so he could feel your hot skin, let his saliva drag slick and wet against your chest. 

Your hands instinctively rooted themselves in his hair as you gasped again, not expecting such a move, tugging lightly at his head to pull him up. Shouto just groaned, teething gently at your breasts and not moving an inch. His hips were grinding against the bed though, as he stood between your spread legs.

Before you knew it, your panties were gone, bra clumsily unclasped and discarded, and you were completely bare. Shouto was undressing before you, struggling with the buttons on his shirt before giving up, easily ripping the fabric of his body with one tug, grumbling.

You didn’t feel so tipsy anymore.

“Shouto, what’re we doing? We shouldn’t be doing this, we need to stop-”

“Stay down.” Was his firm command, a hand splayed across your naked chest and pushing you back into the mattress as you tried to sit up. It made you breathless, the growl in his voice, the dominance emanating from the man. You stayed still.

“This’s gonna make us a stronger couple.” The man slurred, eyes dark and hands wandering, effortlessly keeping you pinned against the bed as he ground his hips forward against the edge. You were getting scared.

“Wait-”

You fell silent as one hand pushed down his pants, his underwear going with them, pink cock bobbing free. He was so pretty down there, and it made sense, all of him was pretty, but you suddenly realized the weight of the situation, what was happening.

“Shouto, no, oh my god. We gotta stop right now, we’re drunk, we’re-we’re-”

“Don’t care. Not gonna let you hide away from me this time.” Shouto shook his head, taking his cock in one hand and giving it a long, slow pump, flushed tip weeping precum and wetting his hand.

“No, no, this is wrong. I don’t want this, I could get pregnant!” You cried, beginning to panic for real, pushing against the one strong hand anchoring you to the bed.

Shouto just chuckled, letting go of his cock to crowd against you, getting up in your face to press a wet finger to your lips, the salty taste of his precum threatening to slip into your mouth unless you kept it shut. “Shhh, shh. If you stay nice and still, if you do what I say, I’ll use a condom.”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“You’re gonna listen to me, you always do.” The man nodded to himself, once again dragging his cock against the bed between your legs, as if he couldn’t stop himself. “Or else I’ll fuck you raw.” The finger was pulled from your lips, only to be wagged teasingly in your face. 

You couldn’t believe how he was acting.

“Be nice.”

Shouto tapped your nose with a neatly manicured finger, before groaning as he heaved himself upright, red cock bobbing against his stomach, desperate for attention. The man gave you a look, as if to say “don’t move” before he took his hands off you, heading for his dresser.

Once you saw him pulling out a strip of condoms, you were on your feet, stumbling toward the door.

Although panic had sobered you somewhat, you were still struggling with the effects of the alcohol, so your reaction time was maddeningly slow. Slow enough that you weren’t able to truly fight against Shouto when he grabbed you from behind toned arms wrapping around your middle and heaving you into the air, only to throw you back on his bed.

You were almost sick on the bedspread, world spinning and stomach protesting, but you were able to calm yourself.

But then Shouto was on you, flipping you onto your back, a soft hand pressing against your throat threateningly. 

“You want to have a baby? Want me to cum in you so you’ll get all fat with kids? Hm?” He was so intense, almost choking you, straddling your waist and keeping you pinned. It was too much

You were able to manage a tearful, desperate “No!” despite the hand around your throat, and Shouto backed off, releasing the pressure to instead stroke his hand against the sides of your neck.

“Stop acting like this, it’s the next logical step for us. You said you cared for me, wanna make me happy. This’ll make me happy. I won’t be like the last guy.”

His cock was pressed against your stomach, and you could feel it twitching. Shouto clambered off of you, letting go of your neck so he could grab the condoms he’d tossed on the bed before snatching you up.

“Do what I say and I use these.” He waved them in your face before tearing one off, beginning to open it. 

You stayed still, gazing at him blearily, limbs feeling fuzzy, mind feeling the same.

The condom was rolled onto Shouto’s cock, the man spitting into his palm and giving the latex a few rubs to make it slick before reaching for you.

He dragged you to the edge of the bed - the perfect height for him to fuck you - and you didn’t fight, terrified of his threat. You couldn’t stand the thought of a baby.

(You didn’t know, but neither could he)

“Wanted to do this since I met you.” Shouto mumbled, pushing your panties to the side with a few fingers so he could guide his tip to your hole. “Want you so bad.”

You didn’t know what to think of this side of Shouto. This unreserved, uncareful, slurring mess of a man that loomed before you, gaze dark and wild, limbs everywhere as he groped and squeezed and appreciate the shape of your body.

But he must’ve gotten impatient, because then he was pushing inside.

It hurt, stinging pain rippling up your back and you keened, causing Shouto to pause. One of his hands darted down to wrap around your calf, hauling it up on the bed so he could lean forward and press it to you chest, sinking his cock a few inches deeper.

“You’re gonna take it.” He hissed before messily kissing you, pressed so close together that it was hard to breathe. “I’ll make it feel good after you do.”

[zeeroweenies]

Hi hi hello!! So for the followers event can I request something with bully megumi banging the reader in the bathroom at a party for flirting with one of his teammates ❤️

fuck you, i l*ve you

DESC ❁ you and megumi are bad for each other.

MATCHUP ❁ megumi x fem!reader

CW ❁ public sex (bathroom), oral (m receiving), mirror fucking, possessiveness, facial, cheating with reader, hair pulling, rough fucking, dacryphilia, he calls you a stupid bitch, hate sex, creampie, whole lotta toxic shit

ty for being the first to request cutie pie💓!

twitterhub event

Tonight was the night of a party that someone at your school was throwing. You couldn’t remember the kid’s name that was hosting it— was it that dude that was on the football team, Aoi? Hell, you forgot. You couldn’t really bring yourself to care either. The deep ache in your chest kept you bedridden.

Megumi told you not to show up to this party, saying something about him ‘not wanting you with other guys.’ Why did he care so damn much? It’s not like you two were on speaking terms to begin with, a huge argument landing you both in the dog house.

You’d asked him to break up with his girlfriend, and it wouldn’t be true Megumi fashion if he didn’t snap on you, which he did. But you weren’t scared of him, so of course you bit back. Harsh words exchanged between you two landed you where you are now, in your bed crying over him.

But you didn’t care about some dumb party anyway, most of the people who were attending were assholes who peaked in high school.

But you didn’t care about some dumb party anyway, most of the people who were attending were assholes who peaked in high school.

But you didn’t care about some dumb party anyway, most of the people who were attending were assholes who peaked in high school.

Was it really that important? None of this stuff would matter in the next ten years, you probably wouldn’t even remember half of your graduating class’s names. Even so, one thing you wouldn’t be able to shake was Megumi. The circumstances placed on you two were odd, to say the least. Every kiss, every touch— every lingering stare would never be forgotten.

Despite the things he’s put you through, you could tell the things you’d experienced with Megumi would resonate with you for a long time, long after something as insignificant as high school had ended.

Make no mistake though, you were still mad at him. And some part of you even wanted to get back at him somehow, give him a taste of his own medicine. Then he’d feel how you felt for once. It was like you hated him, but loved him at the same time? You didn’t really know, maybe it was just your brain all doped up from happy chemicals.

But hey, who was a social reject like you to be talking in the first place? The only other friend you had was your sister, and she walked the stage long ago leaving you in the social jungle that was high school all by your lonesome.

You didn’t even know she was in your room until you heard her chirp up from the other side, tall figure perched against your doorframe that you didn’t even know was open.

“I know you’re not in here crying over that musty little boy.” the sudden voice made you jump, fingers quick to pull the cover on top of you to conceal your tear streaked face.

Clicking your lips against your teeth, the sight of you rolling your eyes hidden from the blanket over your face. “He’s not musty,” you quirk, barely audible words muffled by the blanket. “And actually he smells really good, like Polo cologne, not the cheap kind either.”

It was your sister’s turn to roll her eyes, arms coming across her chest to fold one underneath the other. “Even then, he’s still foul. That boy does you so dirty, (Name). I don’t even know why you still fuck with him.”

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips, you really didn’t feel like talking to her about this right now. “I’m not fucking with him.” irritated response earning a ‘yeah right’ from your big sis.

“Isn’t there a party tonight?”

The cover flies from over you, dried tears apparent on your cheeks. “Yeah, why?”

“And musty’s gonna be there?” The right side of her mouth curves in a sly smile before she sits on the bed beside you.

“Megumi. Why do you wanna know?” A questioning look appears on your face as you sit up, curious to what she’s implying. A catlike grin spreads over her face, and you can already tell what’s coming next.

It takes much convincing before your face is covered in heavy makeup, a subtle smoky eye paired with a shiny gloss coating your plump lips. Your sister took initiative in adorning you in the sluttiest dress she could find in her closet, the length barely even came past the top of your thighs.

Anyone could catch a glimpse of the black thong you wore underneath if you bent over in the slightest. The cleavage was no better, the top of your breasts were exposed and since the dress had thin straps, the support of a bra was not needed.

Stepping back to admire her work, your sister has a proud look on her face as the tip of the eyeshadow brush laced in her fingers rests between her teeth.

“Girl, you look good.” she expresses, stepping from in front of the mirror.

As your sister’s frame moves you take in your appearance, you did indeed look good. Your face was so different with makeup on, and without the aid of your glasses you almost didn’t recognize yourself.

Your sister’s face preens over your shoulder, cheesing proudly at you through the mirror. “He’s gonna shit himself when he sees you.” You chuckle dismissively at that, smiling internally.

You settled for taking a cab to the party, and with each house that passed anxiousness loomed over you, hands sweaty and stomach feeling queasy. Not only because you weren’t supposed to be there, but it was the first gathering you’ve even been to.

Megumi told you not to come to this party but here you were disobeying him, he wasn’t going to like that at all and you knew it. But something inside you was telling you to do this, he needed to feel how you felt.

The house is crowded when you walk in, people smooshed together like a can of sardines. The music was boisterous as you made your way through the crowd, kids dancing on each other to the cadence making it hard for you to slide past.

There was a few familiar faces in the crowd that you recognized, most of them belonging to kids who were in sports clubs. You spot Megumi in a corner with his friends who doesn’t seem to notice you at first glance. You didn’t spare him any second glances, you were hoping for him not to recognize you just yet. Your only focus for now was to have a good time, maybe even spark some jealousy out of him by dancing on a guy or two, maybe even three.

You nearly give up hope when you spot a few kids in your robotics club, face perking up as you call out to them.

“Oh my god, (Name)!” Yuuta holds his arms out to give you a side hug, face whelmed in astonishment. “Are you sure that’s you?” He gazes at you almost in disbelief.

You roll your eyes in fake annoyance, flashing your teeth at him. “I’m pretty sure I know who I am Yuuta”

He waves you off jokingly, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips before you two carry on with your conversation, chopping it up about school and plans after graduation.

Megumi’s obscured in a corner of the party, arm slung over his girlfriend’s shoulder in boredom when one of his teammates practically runs up to him with an alarmed look on his face.

“You’ll never guess who I just saw” it’s almost as if he’s out of breath like he ran a marathon when all he did was speed walk to the other side of the house.

Megumi was irritated. The argument you two had and having to come to a party he didn’t want to come to in the first place already had him aggravated. He’d much rather be somewhere alone with you but he really couldn’t stand you right now. “This isn’t the fucking guessing game Yuuji just spit it out.”

Yuuji’s expression drops, disappointed that Megumi’s spoiling the thrill in his surprise, but soon picks his face back up to tell him the news. “Four eyes is here, and she looks good” he exaggerates, motioning his head over to where you are, heavily making out with some guy that has you pressed flush against the wall.

Megumi slowly removes his cup from his mouth, gaze falling on you. The guy’s hands are all over you gripping everywhere, your neck, tits, and your ass that’s barely covered by that sorry excuse for a dress you’re wearing. He feels his insides get even hotter when he hears his teammates talking about you.

“Woah, she’s actually kinda fire.” Noritoshi’s eyebrows raise, taking in your appearance from the far side of the room.

“Yeah? You’d hit that?” Yuuji chimes in on his comments, only adding fuel to the fire igniting inside Megumi.

“Bro, what? She can get it any day. Shit, I’d still fuck, even with the glasses on” he admits and a hyena like chortle spills from the two boys mouths, holding on to each other from laughing so hard.

Megumi was laughing too, a faux smile dancing on his lips as he brought the red cup full of alcohol to his mouth. But on the inside, his blood was boiling. He always had a temper problem, but nothing compared to the complete and utter rage he felt at this moment. Blood crawled up his face, a prominent vein protruding from the side of his neck from clenching his jaw so hard.

Time continued to pass as he watched you, dancing on multiple guys and grinding your entire body against them. Watching as you bent over slightly to press your ass into some guy’s crotch that was on the football team with him.

The sight of you with someone else made him want to do horrible things to you. He opted for letting the anger inside him build up, he was going to fuck you up real good.

But he just wasn’t going to snap on you now, oh no. He’d wait and let you have your fun, he’d get to you when the time was right. And when that time came his eyes followed you like a hawk, watching your frame as you sauntered off to the bathroom, a click of your heels and a small bounce in your walk.

He wastes no time following behind you, making an excuse to his girlfriend as he made his way through the crowd of rowdy teenagers. Silently entering the bathroom that was dimly lit by a red bulb, he watches you at the sink.

You turned off the water from washing your hands to dry them off, heart dropping when you looked up and seeing Megumi’s reflection in the mirror behind you.

“I thought I told you not to come here.” his voice is cold, a deadpan expression on his face.

Not backing down, you shrug as you finish wiping away the drops of water from your nimble fingers. “I do what I want. That a problem with you?”

His head cocks back in confusion, tall figure walking up to lean over you intimidateingly, but you stand your ground. “Whatever this is, was,” you enunciate, motioning your pointer finger between you both. “It’s over. I’m done with you.”

Megumi’s expression turns soft, a scoff that sounds like a chuckle as he towers over you, intimidation in his voice and features.

“You think you’re hot shit just cause you got your face painted up like a whore?” You’re taken by surprise when he grabs you by the throat, your hand coming up to sratch at his large hand but he’s just too strong.

“Just cause you put on this stupid fucking dress? You look like a fucking hooker.” He spits, face intimidatingly close to yours.

“Nobody’s even gonna fucking remember you when we graduate.” He scoffs, squishing your cheeks with his big hand as his face hovers right over yours, eyes darkening.

“You should be lucky that I even waste my time on you. You aren’t shit without me.”

Tears well up in your eyes, and you don’t even think twice before your hand comes down hard against Megumi’s face, the impact leaving blistering red mark.

“I hate you.”

Soon enough Megumi has his cock stuffed down your throat, forcefully fucking his hips into your mouth as drool leaks from the side of your mouth and onto your tits.

He glances down at you and you look ruined, tears streaming down your fucked out face as you struggle to take his cock. “You look so much prettier when you shut the fuck up.” He feels his release nearing, hands gripping each side of your head before he coats your tongue and face in cum, guttural groans leaving his mouth.

“Look at you, nasty.” He smears his cum all over your face with his dick, your lip gloss is long gone and the false you wore were barely hanging on from your salty tears.

You hate yourself for enjoying this, for the arousal collecting in your panties that’s threatening to drip onto the floor as Megumi uses you like a toy. You hate loving that he’s conditioned to only get off from him using you, hurting you.

It’s no secret that Megumi loves to hurt you. He loves to do mean things to you, say the most hurtful things to make you cry. It only makes the thrill that much greater for him. It gets him off to know that he’s the one causing you so much pain.

You’re a sobbing mess as Megumi forcibly yanks you up from the bathroom floor, strong hands spinning you around before bending you over violently, eliciting a yelp from you.

He yanks your dress up to expose your ass to him before he rips the fabric of your thong, not even bothering to properly take them off.

Without warning, he fucks himself into your hole with one brutal thrust, a murderous scream lurching from your lungs at the stretch of his fat cock in your pussy. Lucky for you both, what you were doing couldn’t be heard thanks to the loud music that deafened the sounds of skin slapping skin and your fucked out voice.

Megumi’s ruthless in fucking you, a vice grip on your hips as he forces you into a sharp arch with his hand under your neck to pull you back. He fucks you hard at a brutal pace, like he’s trying to hurt you.

“You love it when I treat you like shit don’t you?” his breath is heavy against the side of your face as you struggle to look in the mirror, you look like a drooly little slut with your tits hanging out while he fucks into you.

He earns no response from you, an ear splitting cry escaping past your lips when he pulls out and slams into you again, a loud squelch filling the air. “Fucking say it you stupid bitch.”

The pleasure and disdain you felt for him came tumbling out, manifesting into words as you began to cream around him.

“I fucking hate you.”

The response you give him shoots straight to his dick, throbbing hard inside you as you tighten around him. Yanking your hair back, he buries his face into your neck, biting down hard on the flesh to create a mark there before he brings his head up to stare at your reflection.

“You hate me? Huh?” he slows his pace torturously as he angles his hips to grind into your soft spot, trying to get you to repeat your words.

“Say that shit again, you’re making my dick harder.”

You can only cry harder, mustering the strength to look at his reflection in the mirror behind you, a lustful gaze in his lidded eyes

“I hate you, Megumi.” You drag out, meaning behind the words laced with your moans.

His cock throbs inside you again, pressure building in his dick from your words as he slips in and out of you with ease from how wet you were. “Yeah, I fuckin’ hate you too.” he forces you into a painful arch so he can pound into you, pleasured cries leaving your lips as tears streamed down your face, ass jiggling from the impact of his hips against yours.

“Keep it up, and I’m gonna cum in that pretty pussy.” his words are heavy in your ears, sending shockwaves straight to your cunt.

Megumi loved to see you in pain, whether it was from something mean he said or did. If he got you pregnant you wouldn’t be able to leave, you’d really hate him then. He wanted to make you a mess, ruin you for anyone else who dared to look in your direction.

He fucks into you deliciously as you both tumble over the edge, not bothering to silence the cries that escape you. “I’m gonna ruin your fucking life.” The words make you clench tight around him, pleasure wracking through your body hard as he forces you against the sink to pound into you, body jolting forward from the force.

“C-Cum— cumming, ‘m cumming” you babble dumbly, letting him fuck you through your orgasm when you feel his warm cum fill you, stuffing you so full as it dribbles out of your pussy onto the floor.

Your body feels numb from the aftershocks of your orgasm, cunt twitching as he stuffs his cream back into you with his thick fingers earning a whine from you. You look like a hot mess, the gloss long gone from your lips along with your wet tears and Megumi’s dried cum on your face.

He loved to see you so fucked out, so ruined. Your body is limp and you struggle to catch your breath but Megumi’s already pulling his pants back up, pushing his cock back into his jeans as he fiddles with the zipper.

“You’re never leaving me.”

[jordanstrophe]

Christmas with Walter and Gabriel :>

Forgive me that it’s relatively mild ♡ thank you, and merry christmas! 

[Masterlist] CW: Creepy intimate/possessive whumper, chained up, slight choking, captivity 

He couldn't sleep through the night. Usually, it was out of excitement, but tonight, it was just out of stress. Walter decided it was too hard to find him in the dark winter, so he looped a string of Christmas lights all through the chain strung from his leg. To say it was distracting was the least of it...

He crept into the living room lit by lights and candles; it made his prison feel a little more like a home, sadly. 

"Ah, there he is." Walter cooed, poking his head out from trying to start the fire. “It’s Christmas! Come, sit down, get comfortable.” He waved. 

"M-" Gabriel croaked, biting back his words and nervously chewing his lip. "M-merry Christmas..." He muttered, staring at his feet as his cheeks began to burn bright pink. Walter took a double glance, before smiling and taking Gabriel's hand. He pulled him onto the couch and stroked his chin to tilt his head up to the Christmas tree, drowning in an endless sea of presents.

"You didn't have to do all this, I didn’t want anything." Gabriel shuddered. "Oh, hush you, just pick one." Walter harshly ruffled his hair. Gabriel sighed and picked out the closest one, a delicate decorated box wrapped in a large red bow. His hand started violently trembling and he struggled to unwrap the ribbon.

"Oh-" He rasped, taking out a small teacup. “It’s lovely.” He gulped, trying not to let any bad memories spoil the mood. He stiffened when Walter started tying the bow around his neck. “Please don’t do that...” He side-eyed. 

“Oh, lighten up. It’s Christmas! You’re my gift after all; my prized possession.” Walter widely grinned, thumbing his cheek. 

It took all Gabriel’s self control to not flinch away in disgust. 

“Hold on! Before you open the next one, come see this.” Walter ushered, gripping the ribbon around his neck and yanking him to his feet. “Ack- Hey!” Gabriel choked, trying to rip the ribbon off, but the man had already double-knotted it as he dragged him over to the piano like a leash. 

“Notice anything different?” He asked, lugging his arm over Gabriel’s shoulders. 

“Y-you threw a t-... *cough* ... a tarp over it?” He gagged, finally getting the chance to loosen the knot. 

“Yep! Unwrap it.” Walter chirped. 

“Uh- unwrap it?” Gabriel blinked, nervously taking a handful of cloth and pulling it off the old piano. 

Except it wasn’t the old piano, this one was new, polished and perfect with dark stained wood and carved details. Gabriel gasped and immediately started running his fingers over the keys. 

“Your old one was lugged out of the basement when I first brought you home. I figured you were in need of a replacement.” Walter gently patted his head. “Oh, go on now! Sit down, give it a go.” Walter snatched both his shoulders and plopped him down on the seat. Gabriel was at a loss for words as he grumbled some stutters, before finally gasping a ‘thank you.’

“I hope you’re not upset with me for not getting you anything. Although It’s kind of hard when I’m chained up all day and monitored 24/7.” Gabriel sighed. 

“SShhhh, I have everything I need right here.” He wrapped his arms around him and rested his chin on the boy’s head. “And since we’re on topic-” He cleared his throat and possessively petted his hand down the side of Gabriel’s face. ”You can play me something right here, consider it my gift for the year.” He snuck a peck against his cheek before Gabriel could twist his face away any further.  

@octopus-reactivated  @yesthisiswhump  @lave-whump @whumpasaurus101 @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @hamiltonwhumpdump @just-another-whumper @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @approach-me-and-ill-cry  @whump-it @kixngiggles @as-a-matter-of-whump  @five-fictions-5-9 @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @thelazywitchphotographer  @sophierose002 @happy-whumper @cowboy-anon @princessofonward  @lonesome--hunter @yet-another-heathen @mylifeisonthebookshelf @whump-cravings @digitalart-dwa  @melancholy-in-the-morning @krios-whump-tent

[meltwonu]

| 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔦 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 |     [Chapter 2]

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x reader

this chapter’s notes; fratboy!wonwoo, dom!wonwoo, some soft ‘woo too, restraints, panties as a gag, dirty talk, degradation, name calling, oral(fem receiving), cum eating, sir!kink. My god it has been a week, a WEEK i tell you 🥲 Ldfkjdf I hope the lot of you are taking a big deep breath this weekend and doing something to relax or doing some self care cuz baby we all need it!💕 Treat yourself to something good! Take that nap! Buy that album! Get that coffee! I’ll try to bust out some thirst posts this weekend(i think we all deserve some, eh?🥴) should tumb1r not hate my blog and as usual, inbox round up tomorrow! 💕💕 For now, de-stress with ch 2 of UIMY, and have a great weekend! I love you!! 💕💕💕💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - x - x - x

You only get about 4 hours of sleep, if you’re being honest.

You won’t tell when asked because quite frankly, you’re a little embarrassed at how giddy you are to see Wonwoo today. You eagerly attend your morning class - panties already wet and mouth watering with the fantasies playing out in your head throughout the entire lecture.

“Hey, study buddy!”

Minghao slings an arm around your shoulder just as you turn to make a beeline towards the library, almost directing you into a different direction. “Where you headed off to? You wanna grab lunch?” Shit.

In the time that Wonwoo was gone, you’d spent a lot of time hanging out with other people trying to fill in the gap where, normally, you’d be spending underneath Wonwoo.

“I, um…” Going to get lunch with Minghao was one of the things that had become a normal thing after your morning classes and you hadn’t had the chance to tell him that your ‘usual’ schedule was back. “I--I’m gonna go study at the library for a bit! I’m really sorry! Can we go another day?” You pout at him which quickly melts off of your face when he shoots you a knowing smile.

“Gonna go ‘study’ Wonwoo-hyung, huh?”

Minghao lets you go - telling you to let him know when you weren’t busy.

You all but tear the front door open once you reach the familiar library; sheepish smile when it makes more noise than you anticipate.

“Careful, wouldn’t want you to pay the price of breaking the door.”

Wonwoo smirks at you from behind the receptionist table; familiar and warm when you step closer to the counter. “Maybe I do? What do you know?” You quip back, cheeks warm and head fuzzy at the sight of Wonwoo back in his usual sweater vest and slacks.

He leans in closer to you over the countertop, gesturing to you to lean in close as well. His lips ghost across the shell of your ear as goosebumps rise on your skin and shivers roll down your spine and the familiar thrum of arousal pours over your body.

“I know you were probably thinking about me all morning, sweetheart. Thinking of all the things I’d do to you.” Wonwoo chuckles under his breath, “Your panties are probably already soaked, hmm? Like my good little slut always ready to take my cock.”

His filthy, whispered words are enough for you to whimper quietly - eyes downcast as you only lean in closer. “Y-yes… Wonwoo, p-please, I--”

Wonwoo leans away from you and you find yourself letting go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“You’ll have to wait. I need to file these late slips and sort these books.”

There’s a teasing smile on his face as he watches your lips part in shock. “But you can do that, right? Be patient?”

No.

“I--y-yes...” 

You pick a table far from the others as you watch Wonwoo roll the cart with books into another row of bookshelves.

It felt a little odd to you now that you thought about it - waiting so patiently for Wonwoo when you were used to him caging you in against a bookshelf with his fingers knuckle deep inside of your cunt or even just tugging you straight away into an empty study room on days when neither of you could wait to get your clothes off.

There was a certain softness that he seemed to show with you now; one that you appreciated and made you feel things that you’d never felt in any relationship before.

Wonwoo would admit he wasn’t always good with showing his emotions with other people.

“He only shows it sometimes,” Jeonghan had said, “Usually to his hyungs and usually when he wants something.”

Which was true.

He struggled with letting his guard down and a lot of the time felt shy about voicing his emotions.

But with you, he felt differently. He wanted to show you that he was capable of letting his guard down and capable of showing you the affection and care that you deserved - even if the relationship the two of you had started was only physical at first. The time away from you only proved to him that he definitely cared about you more than he had initially thought too.

While his semester abroad was entertaining and educational, he found himself thinking about you often in the midst of his excavations and lectures. Wondering about what you were doing and who you were with; if you really thought about him as often as you had messaged him so.

“Um, excuse me?”

“O-oh, huh?”

He’s pulled from his thoughts just as another student steps in front of him in the aisle of books. “Sorry, I don’t remember where this book is from. Is it okay if I just give it to you?”

“Sure.”

It takes twenty more minutes of you pretending to study before Wonwoo’s legs step into your periphery.

You open your mouth to speak but Wonwoo is quicker.

“Miss, I’m sorry, but I need to speak to you regarding some books you failed to return.”

You try to hide the wide smile on your face when Wonwoo leads you down the familiar, lonesome side of the library.

“I’ll have you step into this room, miss.”

“Wonwoo, there’s literally nobody here…” Chuckling, you step into the empty, cleaned room that Wonwoo had painstakingly made sure was dusted before you came. “Unless we’re roleplaying, ‘cause then, I’m sorry, sir…”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, locking the door behind him before easily walking you backwards until the backs of your thighs hit the desk.

“You should be sorry, sweetheart. First, slamming the doors earlier and now overdue books? Tsk, when will you learn.” He easily slips into character, fingertips already ghosting against the exposed skin of your thighs before playing with the hem of your short skirt.

“How are you going to pay back what you owe, hmm? The damages might be irreparable.” He drags his hand up and under the flimsy material; appreciating the way your legs part a little more for him. A quiet moan floats past your lips just as his fingertips press gently into the growing wet patch of your panties.

“Already wet, too? Why exactly is that, sweetheart?”

“A-ah, ‘c-cause I want--want you to fuck me, s-sir… Been thinking a-about it all day… Just--just like you said...” You clench around emptiness, already impatient now that he had his hands on you.

“You have, huh? I bet you played with yourself last night, didn’t you? Fingered your slutty ‘lil hole and filled it up with a toy just to prep yourself for me.”

“Y-yes, sir…” Your guilty eyes avoid Wonwoo’s stern gaze, “I’m s-sorry… I--I couldn’t, ah, wait... Just t-talking to you, yesterday, I....”

Wonwoo’s fingers press hard against you, immediately rubbing your clit through your soaked panties as you mewl and lean into his warm chest.

“P-please… punish m-me…”

You can only whine around the fabric stuffed in your mouth; hands tied behind your back with Wonwoo’s belt keeping them bound.

Your body jerks against the small desk as Wonwoo fucks you from behind in the small enclosed space you were used to and a certain warmth pours over you knowing that nothing really had changed since he’d left.

“Shit, I really missed cumming inside your tight lil’ pussy and making you walk home with my cum dripping down your legs.” There’s a soft chuckle under his breath; cock curving right into your g-spot as you whine and squirm underneath him.

“Bet you missed it too, huh? Getting home and fingering your filthy ‘lil cunt, fucking my cum deeper inside of you ‘cause you couldn’t get enough of me. Fuck, and when you’d send me pictures of your cute ‘lil fingers covered in my cum…”

Wonwoo smirks at your back, placing a hand on your bound arms as he uses it for leverage to fuck you deeper and harder.

“I’m back for good now though, sweetheart. Let’s see what else your cute cock starved body can take.”

You can only moan back in return - spit soaking into the wet fabric in your mouth as Wonwoo only fucks you harder. “God, your cunt is so fuckin’ perfect. Made to take my cock.” When you clamp down onto his cock tighter is when Wonwoo realizes he misses hearing your voice - chuckling softly as he leans over your trembling body.

“I think you’ve learned your lesson, huh, sweetheart?”

He reaches around, tugging the soaking material from between your lips and placing it next to your head before he straightens back up. “Ngh… I, ah, s-sir…” You turn your head to the side, watching the wall as your body jerks atop the desk. “P-please… I--I wanna see y-you, hah, when y-your fuh--fuck me…”

A soft blush coats Wonwoo’s cheeks as he halts his movements. 

He clears his throat, pulling his cock out of you before stepping back and giving you space to readjust yourself. And with your arms still bound, you struggle slightly but manage.

This time, you sit atop the desk, spreading your legs wide for Wonwoo who licks his lips at the sight of your slightly mussed hair, blown out pupils and soaked cunt.

“That’s my good ‘lil slut.”

He positions himself between your legs, wrapping a hand around his cock and rubbing the head on your sensitive clit as you whimper. He circles the nub with the head of his cock, teasing you and himself as you squirm. “I take it you’ll be at the party tomorrow night, right?” His question catches you slightly off guard as you nod shakily.

“Good. ‘Cause I got you a present that I want to give to you tomorrow.”

“O-okay…”

Wonwoo sinks his cock back into you; cock curving into you perfectly as you cry out in return. “O-oh, god, s-sir--Wonwoo, I--fuck…” A choked sob bubbles up your throat at the feeling of him starting a harsh and quick pace, just how you liked it. “Mmh, my t-toys don’t feel as, hah, g-good as you… Fuck, you feel s-so good inside me…”

You wrap your legs around his waist, digging your heels into the small of his back to push him in closer to yourself. “Use m-me like I’m your little cumslut...” The desperation sets in; tears freely falling from your eyes as the urge to cum on his cock becomes unbearable from the hellish months without him.

“Please, p-please… Harder, fuck me harder! I n-need it!”

He grins, knowing just how you felt but keeping his composure as he doubles his pace. “So fuckin’ desperate for me, sweetheart. You sound so pretty begging for me. Is that what you sounded like when you were touching yourself too? Begging for me all night long?”

“Y-yes, fuck! Ngh, fucking my ‘lil holes with my t-toys all night j-just to be satisfied… Oh, god, Wonwoo!”

You can’t stop yourself from cumming - toes curling and thighs shaking as your walls flutter around his cock. Wonwoo only fucks you harder as soft growls fall from his own lips.

“Fuck, I missed this, missed you. Missed your tight ‘lil cunt cumming around my cock, sweetheart.” He mumbles soft praises to you, although you can barely hear it in the midst of your orgasm; ears ringing and head feeling hazy at the intensity.

Wonwoo fares no better - cock throbbing inside your warm walls as his orgasm hits him hard only after a few more quick snaps of his hips.

Your bound arms behind you do little to keep your tired body upright atop the table but you do your best as he rides out his high. “Mmh, I can feel y-you cumming inside me… Fuck, it feels soooo gooood.” Drool pools in your mouth at the feeling of his cock throbbing inside of you for the first time in months and you mentally tell yourself to never let Wonwoo disappear for that long of time ever again.

“Ah, I feel so f-full…” Whining, you squirm as he continues to thrust into you, fucking his cum deeper into your pussy as you throw your head back at the fullness and wetness you feel. “Oh… Wonwoo…”

He lets out a deep breath before he slowly starts to pull out of you - cock covered in his cum and your wetness as he watches his cum drip from your spent hole. You slowly unhook your quivering thighs from around his waist as he steps back slightly.

“I--oh--”

You watch as he drops down to his knees, face right in front of your dripping cunt before he leans in.

“Oh, Wonwoo--” His tongue peeks out, lapping at your soaked folds before he drags it down and starts licking up the cum. “Fuck, oh, fuck…!”

Wonwoo dips his tongue into your hole, teasing you as your legs tremble and you try your hardest to not clamp your thighs around his head between your legs. You start to fight your restraints; fingertips wanting to thread through his hair as you grind against his skilled tongue.

 He licks up more of the cum before dragging his tongue up to your overly sensitive clit; rubbing soft, slow circles on the nub until you’re a whining mess above him.

“A-ah, I--I can’t, mmh, ‘m too sen--sensitive, sir…”

He takes his as his cue to stand from his position, standing quietly before leaning over you. He threads a hand through your hair, tilting your head up and kissing you on the lips as you melt into his gentle touch.

Your eyes flutter shut at his soft kiss, lips parting slightly for him as he uses his tongue to push cum into your waiting mouth.

The kiss turns hot and heavy as he moves the salty, sticky substance from his mouth to yours - lips covered in a combination of your wetness and his cum when he pulls away.

“So pretty for me, sweetheart.”

When the two of you are somewhat cleaned up and ready to leave, Wonwoo stops you before you can get your hand on the doorknob.

“Hey, you okay?”

You shoot him a confused look, head tilted slightly at the bespectacled male that only looks mildly disheveled. “Um… y-yeah? Why?” His hand on your wrist makes your heart do backflips in your chest as he looks you over once more.

“I should’ve had some water for you and done proper aftercare since it’s been a while. I might've hurt you? Are your wrists okay? I can--”

“Whoa, hey, slow down! You’re, like, freaking out, ‘Woo.”

A pale blush coats his cheeks, “Sorry, I’m just trying to… be more… Expressive? I don’t know. It’s been a while. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He laughs lightly, somewhat embarrassed himself. “I don’t want to be weird but, y’know. I want to take care of you properly, sweetheart.”

“I--yeah, I understand! But I’m fine, I promise!” You beam up at him - happiness evident in your eyes and your smile. “Thank you… for making an effort, Wonwoo.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” 

[chil2de]

a/n: crying in the club. miya atsumu is the loml and you can tell.

happy birthday to the miya twins <3

the house is silent when atsumu steps inside during the dead of the night, icy cool air lingering as it nips against his skin. the lights are off, with only the faint shimmer of the moonlight illuminating the hallway. he kicks his shoes off with a little bit more disgruntlement than necessary, palms heavy and he bunches his fists up to help aid him in the recovery of a lost match.

just one point, he grits.

atsumu shakes the memory from his thoughts physically, opting to strip out of his track jacket and slinging his bag around his shoulder to transport it to the bedroom.

it’s his birthday, but it’s awfully quiet, lonesome and cold.

osamu isn’t in the kitchen cutting away rhythmically, preparing his best batch of onigiri despite all complaints of how he ‘doesn’t wanna’.

he steps into the kitchen anyways, as though to double check. his lips tense to form the vowels to call out for his twin, but no one’s there.

it’s the dead of the night, and he traverses down into the hallway and into your shared bedroom.

when he opens the door, your face is illuminated by the brief flicker of an ever-growing deep orange flame. you bear the biggest grin from ear to ear, greeting him with a feeling that atsumu can only describe as home.

“happy birthday, ‘tsumie! i know it’s late as shit but suna and osamu agreed that we can all hang ou—“ atsumu grabs the cake from your hands, swiftly setting it aside before slumping down into your arms. his weight dips into the mattress as he pulls you into his touch, holding you close to the thing that you own the most— his heart. atsumu tangles his cold arms around you, tucking his jaw onto your shoulder with a small inhale of your shampoo. he smells like the cold winter air, musky cologne briefly clinging onto his clothes. atsumu’s always been a clingy guy, but you don’t recall the last time he held you like this. with urgency, a touch almost crippling as though you’d dematerialise if he were to let go.

“atsumu?” you squeak, tone hitching and uneven with concern. he doesn’t respond, and only rubs a small love heart into your shoulder blade with his middle finger. it takes him a few beats, and even then he responds with a small hum of acknowledgement first.

“‘m in love with ya, you know that?”

“well, i mean— you do tell me that almost every day? i haven’t got dementia, you know.”

“no, seriously. i love ya.” he murmurs as pulls himself back, shaking you lightly as he holds you by the shoulders. his pools of honey orbs swirl in something that can only be described as pure affection, something you see in a child in the candy aisle.

atsumu reaches for the birthday cake on the nightstand, holding onto it securely. he takes a few moments to make a wish, blinking away any excess tears that threatened to come spilling out of him. he’s going to be strong for you, because that’s what he knows best.

“ya want the first slice?” atsumu hums, lips quirking into a grin.

“birthday boy gets the first slice,” you muse, waving your hands out in front of you with denial. atsumu isn’t bothered to cut the cake, so he decides to dig right in with one of the forks nearby. he takes a quick bite, whimpering at just how good it tastes. he then forks up a larger piece for you, drawing the cutlery near to your lips so that he can feed you.

somewhere along the way, atsumu comes to the revelation that he’s thankful. even if his birthday isn’t one that’s rambunctious and spent with booze and blaring music, he’s so sure that he would rather take this any day.

he wouldn’t have told you so, for it would’ve been bad luck, but he wished that he could spend every birthday like this with you.

maybe he did lose a match on his birthday, but he’s got you.

when you lean forward to wipe off excess icing from the corners of his mouth, giggling, lips parted and eyes glassy with heartfelt love- he’s sure.

he’s sure that you’re the best present he’d ever want.

ily, miyas.