#'oh tell me when you feel like cutting myself' but when i go through with it she just makes me feel even worse and still emd up cutting

[cherrygarden]

,

[figofswords]

the op of the Hannah Gluckstein post is a terf :pensive: shes red on shinigami eyes + has some real sketchy stuff on her blog. obv no judgment, just letting you know in case you wanted to block her. love ur art <3 <3

eurgh thanks for letting me know :/// I’m not gonna delete the reblog bc hannah gluckstein as a jewish butch artist is still something that speaks to me personally and I had never heard of her before but I will be blocking the op. fucking astounding that these people will understand gender-nonconformity of lesbianism and then turn around and fail to expand it beyond the end of their nose. goddamn.

[rememberwren]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Easy breezy beautiful premature ejaculation. Hypersexual!Simon/fem!reader. Discussion of edging. Cumming untouched.

-

“If we do this,” he says around his cigarette, “then we do it my way.”

“I’ve never done this before,” you admit cautiously, turning your hands palm up as if to show you have no weapons, no tricks up your sleeve. I’m innocuous, your posture says. His own says: I’m still deciding, with his tense shoulders and narrowed eyes. “This weird, femdom thing. So I appreciate your guidance. Because I know fuck all—“

“You’re no femdom—Jesus, fuck, I can’t talk about it anymore,” he grits out. He takes a step back and away, creating distance, exhaling a plume of smoke that makes him look strangely ethereal in the evening light. Against your will, your eyes flicker down to just below his belt buckle and oh god. He’s hard. 

“Just from talking about it?”

The look he gives you could melt ice. It could sublimate it. You cringe, knowing you were in the wrong, wishing you could reach out and snatch the words right out of the air. He’s trusting you with this. The last thing he needs is to feel like a joke. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I shouldn’t have—you’re not a, a science experiment or something—“

“Wouldn’t mind that so much. Might figure out what the fuck’s wrong with me. Less interested in being treated like I’m part of a circus troupe,” he grumbles. He drops the cigarette and grinds it to ash beneath his boot. He asks: “Inside?” 

-

Gingerly, so gingerly, he undoes the button of his jeans and unzips them. He holds his breath as he works the denim down his thick thighs. God, is he built: muscles made for more than just show. His history is inscribed on his body in its strength and in its scars, scars of white and pale pinks that darken to purple in the lamplight. He’s wearing boxer briefs, straining at the front from his erection, and they are soaked. You’re surprised that he hasn’t soaked straight through to his jeans. 

“Don’t look,” he grits out through his teeth. You look away, unsure where to cast your eyes to, and settle for shutting them. He explains: “Can’t take the way you’re looking at me.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, feeling your face flush hot. 

“Just—let me—” you hear the sound of fabric rustling. He kicks off his jeans—you can tell by the soft sound of them landing against the floor off the side of the bed. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck.” 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, eyes squeezed shut, hands clenching in your lap. 

“Nothing just—fuck. No way I’m going to last.” He sounds bitterly disappointed. 

“That’s the point of this, right? To get better at lasting?” 

He sighs, a long-suffering sound, like this discussion is well worn and frustrating to him. Something in you shrivels, and it takes your body with it as best as it can, sending your shoulders hunching inwards, your head ducking down. You pick at one of your nails by feel alone, eyes still closed, and nearly jump when his fingers brush your knee. 

“Sorry,” he mutters. “You’re right. That’s what this is for. Might as well get used to embarrassing myself.” 

“That’s the spirit." 

He snorts. More fabric rustles, and at length he says: “Alright. You can look. Just…you can look.” 

You open your eyes hesitantly. His cock is right there—and Jesus. It makes sense, proportionally, but it is frightening in a very real sense. You’re already doing the math, measuring in your head and comparing to your past precedents. Ghost would have them all beat, quite comfortably, in length and girth. He’s cut, which surprises you, but isn’t a turnoff. He keeps himself landscaped nicely, which you appreciate, even if it isn’t necessary. 

He is flushed a ruddy pink, the head darker than the rest. As you stare, it jerks, a bead of precum welling at the tip. Suddenly one of his large, scarred hands reaches down and grips the base of his cock in a painful hold, hissing in a breath through his teeth. 

“Can’t look at me like that,” he admonishes again. 

“Like what?” you ask, a little defensive. You’re just looking! You have to look, right? 

“Like you want it,” he mutters. 

God, does he really have no idea? No inkling of how badly you want to sit on that monster in his hands? No notion of how wet you’ve been since your conversation in the parking lot? Sure you aren't like him, not about to spring off if the breeze was just right, but you are anything but unaffected. Still, it seems like the wrong moment to educate him on your attraction to him and his cock, so you do your best to morph your expression into one of unimpressed ambivalence and hoped it helps. 

“I’m ready when you are,” you say, interrupting his deep breathing exercises. He nods but doesn’t give you the go-ahead, not for another minute or two, until his chest stops heaving and he can remove his hand from the vice grip he has around his balls. His cock has a near purple tinge, and you wonder if maybe he should have rubbed one out in the bathroom beforehand just to take the edge off. Oh well, it’s a thought for next time. 

“Go ahead,” he says, like he’s giving you permission to pull the trigger on him during a game of Russian Roulette. 

You reach out—his cock twitches, a nice warm welcome if you’ve ever seen one, but you hesitate. Your hand is dry. Should you ask for lube? How does he usually jerk off? Dry? You have a feeling he doesn’t mind the discomfort; he seems like he has a self-destructive streak a mile wide. His eyes are fixed at a point on the ceiling, his chest unmoving as he holds his breath. You decide that some sort of lubrication is better than none—so you lick a broad stripe up your palm. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, a little punched-out sound. Sometime between opening your mouth and licking your palm, his eyes had transferred from the ceiling to your face, to the flash of your tongue and your wet palm. His eyes widen, irises swallowed up by the pupils, and he says again, more urgently: “Oh fuck.” 

He reaches down to grip the base of his cock again, but it is too late: he cums. His abs are thrown into sharp relief as he tenses with each pulse, cock jerking against his brutal grip. He doesn’t even jerk himself off—just ruins it as you stare with your mouth open and your hand wet, watching him splatter seed against the coarse line of hair that runs from his belly button to his cock all because he watched you lick your hand. 

“Fuuuuuuck,” he groans, throwing one arm across his eyes, breathing heavily. His mouth is flushed a pretty red, like he has been kissing. His hand clenches into a fist as he says: “I’m sorry. I tried not to.” 

“It’s okay,” you say, your nearly brain blue-screening from how turned on you are. You lower your hand and wipe it dry on your leggings. “That’s what this practice is for—so you don’t do it when it really counts. We can try again tomorrow or something.” 

He snorts. “Tomorrow? Give me five fucking minutes.” 

[amandabbbbb]

summary: after the scene where ward drops rafe at barry’s and tells him to not come home but barry’s sister pogue!reader tries to comfort him even though rafe is soo mean to her like woah but it’s a happy ending

tw: mention of drugs, idk rafe cries a lot, parental issues, rafe calls reader kid and bitch once

word count: 762

“don’t come home, son,” ward says, his voice cold and final, as he walks away from his only son.

“where do you want me to go?”

“dad! dad!” rafe’s desperate calls echo into the night, but ward doesn’t look back, leaving rafe alone in the darkness in front of barry’s and your house.

“hey, barry, open the fuckin door! i know you got the coke, dude, come on. please just open up!” he’s begging on the verge of tears. “barry, if you don’t open this god damn door, i’ll fucking smash it down myself. i need coke, man!”

you slowly open the door, and before he even sees you, rafe shoves his way inside, causing you to stumble back slightly. he collapses onto the couch, his movements frantic and erratic. “barry, what took you so long? christ, give me your best coke. i need that shit now, dude” he demands, his voice thick with barely-contained emotion. when he finally looks up and sees you instead of barry, he quickly swipes at the tears streaming down his face, trying to hide his vulnerability.

“oh, hi, rafe! sorry, i had my headphones on. wanna listen? oh my god, are you crying?” you ask, your voice laced with genuine concern.

“no, jesus fuck, y/n, where’s your brother?”

“oh, um, i think he’s down by the shipyards doing a deal. sorry, rafey,” you say, offering a gentle smile.

rafe pulls himself up quickly, furiously searching for the drugs he so desperately craves. “where’s his coke? i know you know where he keeps it. go find it. don’t just stand there helplessly. you’re so goddamn stupid! fuck!”

“why are you being mean to me? you’re never mean to me… i don’t know where barry keeps the coke, rafe.”

he yells at the top of his lungs, “it’s like you have no fuckin brain. you’re just a useless dumb blonde.” (sorry i’m blonde)

the harsh words cut through you, and you can’t bear his anger. you turn and flee to your room, tears pricking your waterline, blurring your vision as you go.

your whole teenage years, you knew rafe as your older brother’s richest client, who he secretly would rip off. but as the years went by, he started buying barry’s more hardcore drugs, not just weed. you got to know rafe more as barry’s regular client. he would constantly stick around, always flirting with you and bringing you gifts when barry wasn’t looking.

“y/n, don’t shut me out. don’t be a bitch, come on, open the door. i need the coke. you don’t understand, help me here, okay,” he pleads.

you’re scared. you’ve never seen him like this; he’s always treated you like a princess. you yell as he bangs at your thin bedroom door, pushing the wood so hard it starts to crack. “go home, rafe!” your voice shaky and filled with fear.

the banging stops suddenly, your words echoing in the sudden silence. the quiet stretches on, each second feeling like an eternity. cautiously, you peek out of your bedroom door thinking maybe he finally listened to your advice. “rafe, you there?” you call out.

he’s sitting on your couch, tears running down his face, hyperventilating. “i can’t go home. i’m a liar, an addict, a thief, and i can’t be trusted, so my dad said he can’t have me in his house. i have nowhere to go.”

you slowly approach the couch where rafe sits, his face hidden in his hands. his body is shaking, and the room is filled with the sound of his ragged breaths. “rafe…” you say softly, your voice trembling as you try to offer some comfort. “you, um, can stay here tonight.”

he looks up at you, his eyes red and desperate, filled with a depth of pain you’ve never seen in him before. “i don’t deserve you, kid. fuck, i’m so sorry. i never wanted you to see me like this. i thought i had everything under control, but now you probably hate me or some shit…”

you sit beside him, offering a soft, reassuring smile. you put your hand in his. “it’s okay rafey. i could never hate you. we all have moments when shit falls apart. it doesn’t change how i see you. you’re tired. i’ll set up the couch for you.”

rafe’s eyes search yours, a flicker of regret softening his expression. “i didn’t mean to take it out on you,” he says, his voice low and raw. “i just… i don’t want to be alone. y’know, on the couch. not tonight.” the words hang in the air, heavy with his unspoken need to hold you tonight.

[evie-sturns]

teach me - Chris Sturniolo

summary: you find out you’re bestfriend chris is a total virgin, and has never touched himself, you offer to teach him everything

contains: nsfw, sub!chris, virginity loss, inexperienced!chris, handjob, fluff.

——————————————————————————

chris and i have been friends for years, i met him in middle school when we were placed in the same class.

we tell eachother most things, but a topic that never gets brought up often between us is our personal sex life, obviously he makes dirty jokes every hour of the day but that’s about it.

i sit on the couch with chris as we yap about useless topics,

suddenly he goes dead silent.

“chris?” i question, inspecting his blank face. he shakes his head before speaking,

“what.” he mutters, my eyebrows furrow from the very unexpected change in attitude.

“what happened with you?” i ask, scooting closer to him on the couch and tracing my fingers over his knuckles.

“i can tell you anything right?” he whispers, my heart rate starts to subtly pick up.

“yes- of course!” i state with a nervous laugh.

he hesitates for a moment, his hand reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck.

“i’m like, really frustrated.” he says with no other context,

“frustrated? did i say something-“ i fidget with his hand.

“no! like… sexually frustrated-“ he says barely above a whisper.

my cheeks flush, that’s the first time chris has mentioned anything sexually involving him.

“oh? when was the last time you fucked a girl.” i ask calmly, he buries his face into his palms with a small groan

“never.” he whines quietly.

“what?”

“never!” he repeats slightly louder.

“you’re a virgin?” i ask, he nods shyly.

“you’re the most- i mean i just didn’t expect that-“ i ramble, trying to make him feel better.

“i’m honestly coming up on 21 and i’ve never done anything it’s so annoying.” chris speaks up.

“i get it, just do stuff with yourself.” i sigh,

“i don’t know how to..” he groans,

“you don’t know how to do what?” i ask,

“touch myself? i don’t fucking know-“ he says.

a small laugh escapes my lips, “you are literally the most horny man i know, how have you gone a solid 20 years without touching yourself.”

“i’ve never had a need to, but these past few months have been.. different” he laughs,

“jesus chris, i understand why you’re frustrated now.” i scoff,

he nods with a grin, a silence filling the living room.

he avoids eye contact before opening his mouth, “you’re like.. the only person who knows about that.”

i nod, “thank you for telling me chris.”

“so- you genuinely don’t know how to touch yourself?” i repeat,

“i mean i know how to but i’ve never tried- i did try once but i don’t think i did it right cause it didn’t feel good.” he sighs.

“i can teach you.” i blurt out, almost cutting him off. i clasp a hand over my mouth before spinning around.

he goes quiet, almost contemplating his decision.

“would you?- teach me..?” he whispers,

“i- i mean i guess” i reply,

how the fuck is this happening.

chris’s chest rises and falls more dramatically now, he runs a hand through his long silky hair.

i stand up off the couch, grabbing his hand and tugging him up.

i pull him down the corridor into his bedroom, “god what are the chances of you, chris sturniolo, being a total virgin?” i say in disbelief, his cheeks go red with a small laugh.

i sit him down on the edge of his bed, “we’re really doing this?” he asks,

“it’ll just be- normal, just a one time thing. i mean it’s a positive thing and you’ll finally be able to do stuff with yourself!” i smile,

“o-okay you can just tell me everything i need to do.” he breathes,

“let’s start by getting these off you.” i say crouching down next to the edge of the bed and tugging his sweatpants down his legs.

“you might wanna take your shirt off, you’ll get hot.” i tell him,

he complies, discarding his shirt onto the pile of pillows at the other end of the bed.

he sits in just his boxers.

i take in a deep breath before harshly pulling my shirt off my body, exposing my completely bare chest.

i mean, i had to get him hard at some point?

a small “woah” escapes his raw lips as he shamelessly stares

“woah is crazy.” i mock him, earning a small giggle from him.

i push him further back onto the bed, his back resting against the headboard.

i sit down and straddle his thighs, looking down at him slightly.

“okay, can i take these off?” i ask, tugging at the hem of his black boxers, which have a large tent in them.

“yeah- go for it-“ he sighs with an excited grin.

i tug them down, his erection springing out and resting against his stomach.

“oh my god chris!” i state without thinking,

“is it bad?” he instantly replies with,

“no- no just big.” i whisper,

i take his length into my hand, just holding it up right.

he sighs deeply,

i almost forget i’m meant to be teaching him.

“right, so give me your hand.” i say, grabbing his hand

i spit into the palm of his hand, “oh-“ he breathes,

“sorry.” i giggle,

i grab his wrist and guide his hand to his cock.

“what i want you to do first is just rub that spit all over it f’me.” i say, looking into chris’s eyes.

he wraps his hand around his dick, before stroking it slowly up and down.

“there we go, just like that.” i nod, he watches his hand intently as it runs up and down his length.

i adjust my position on his thighs before holding the outside of his hand, and taking it off his dick.

i just hold the outside of his hand now, moving it wherever i want it.

“i only need your thumb right now.” i whisper, he nods, curling all his other fingers.

i hold his thumb and brush it over his raw tip, a small gasp escapes his mouth.

“just keep rubbing that for me.” i instruct him softly,

he nods frantically as he continues to do exactly that.

i guide his thumb into his slit, a pathetic gasp escapes his lips, “oh my god!” his voice raises a couple octaves.

“good boy, you’re doing really well.” i praise him, which he responds very well to,

i hear several loud whimpers fall from his lips, along with his hips lifting slightly off the bed.

“now give me your other hand.” i say, prying his hand away from the sheets.

i place it on the lower portion of his dick, and guide it up and down.

i squeeze his hand slightly around his dick, his mouth falling open.

“i- i need to stop its getting too much!” he protests with tears pooling in his eyes,

“no sweetheart, that just means you’re about to finish, which will feel really nice, okay?” i assure him,

“fuck-! yes-“ he squeezes out, bucking his hips up into his hands.

his eyes are squinted open slightly, still directly staring at my tits.

i take my hand off the outside of his, and reach it down to cup his balls.

that seems to tip him over the edge.

“pleasepleasepleaseplease”

he rambles, throwing his head back against the headboard before spurts of white land on his stomach and chest.

“good, so so good, keep running your hand up and down and ride it out.” i instruct him, which he does.

he slowly takes his hands away, letting them fall limp onto the sheets as he’s completely silent.

“that- that felt incredible y/n.” he pants in shock,

“how did i go 20 years without ever doing that? jesus.” he covers his flushed face with his hands.

“you did so well.” i assure him, he lets out a soft whine.

i laugh lightly, “you respond well to words like that” i say under my breath.

“mmhm.” he agrees, “that shit did something to me.”

i reach over and tug on my shirt, he lays still on the bed,

streaks of white still lay across his torso.

“oh- hold on.” i say, grabbing his shirt and starting to gently clean him up.

i tug up his boxers and sweatpants, he sighs deeply before flopping down on the bed.

“thank you- so much.” he sighs,

“do you want me to.. maybe teach you more tomorrow?” i ask boldly,

his eyes almost light up, “shit, please do.” he laughs.

—-

tags:

@downbad4reid @sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall @raysmayhem-72 @sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s@ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @mattsonly @justalittle47 @sunsetsturniolos

[vinelark]

i don’t remember if i ever shared this here, but a while ago i posted a little twitter thread about bats and gas station snacks and some very talented podficcers made a podfic of it! 🎧

[podfic] Jersey Vigilantes Don't Pump Gas by isweedan & reena_jenkins

original thread (text under the cut):

nested tweet reading: ever since i learned gotham is supposed to be in new jersey i can’t get this concept out of my head: [a badly drawn bumper sticker that says “jersey vigilantes don’t pump gas”] / quote tweet reading: the batmobile can’t just slip in and out of a gas station unnoticed. an employee HAS to go fill up the tank. meanwhile the tired night shift cashier knows the various robin eras because they come in to buy different snacks as time goes on.

one night while the manager is out filling *the literal batmobile* the cashier blinks and comes face to face with a child in a leotard and green boots, buying a pack of twizzlers. “thanks!” the first robin calls, somehow vaulting over two rows of shelves on his way out the door.

years later, after a stretch of quiet weeks, a new, curly-haired robin comes in and grabs a bag of flamin hot pepper puffs. the cashier doesn’t even think robin 2 actually likes them, but he looks really satisfied with himself every time he drops them on the counter.

(even after the second robin abruptly stops coming in, the cashier keeps slipping flamin hot pepper puffs onto their order list. no one else ever buys them, but it just—feels like the thing to do, somehow.)

a stretch of months without a robin, oddly tense. then the third robin appears, even smaller than the first two. he slips inside and buys a cup of black coffee and drains it in one go right at the coffee station, nervously eyeing the door like he’s afraid he’ll be caught.

the fourth robin, when she shows up, makes a beeline for the protein bars. finally, the cashier thinks, someone remotely sensible for this line of work. (though maybe not sensible enough—or maybe TOO sensible—because small caffeine robin is back a few months later.)

the fifth robin, when he first appears, approaches the counter. “you will direct me to the best snacks new jersey has to offer,” he tells the cashier.

“uh,” the cashier says. “i like sour patch kids, myself.”

robin 5 nods. “i will take a bag of sour patch children.”

(one night, not much later, red hood strolls through the door. the cashier has lived in gotham for over a decade now; they barely blink, even when nightwing bounds in after him.

“oh, shit, flamin hot pepper puffs,” red hood says. “i haven’t had these in ages.”

“aw, come on,” nightwing says, already holding a pack of twizzlers. “no one else can stand those.”

“why do you think i got them in the first place, dickhead?” red hood says. “to fend off new jersey’s number one snack thief.” and he buys buys every bag in stock.)

[rafecameroninterlude]

hi angel! i love your work so much and fell in love with bambi!reader, so i was hoping you could write something for me ^_^

can you pls pls pls write bambi!reader comforting rafe after he gets into it with ward? i feel like she’d know exactly how to comfort himmm (pure fluff pls, i read too much smut lmaooo)

warnings: ward cameron, arguing, shouting, a little bit of physical violence, poor rafe who deserves so much better, mention of murder (i’m not referencing peterkin), fluff, soft petting, words of affirmation

a/n: aww bambi!reader has been getting so much love, it makes my heart happy to know that you enjoy the works that she’s in <3

“you had one job, rafe.. one!” ward had been shouting at rafe for nearly an hour already, his face flush with anger. “you really have a way of fucking things up, huh? i should put a caution sign on your forehead.” rafe’s fist clenched as he listened to his father, trying his best to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest with every word that ward spat.

“i already told you that i couldn’t close out the business accounts and wire the money to a different one. apparently i’m not next in line to own cameron development anymore. ‘you know something about that?” rafe was in disbelief when he had to find out from a service representative that his own father took him off of the family business, something that he worked hard all these years for in order to prove he was worthy of running.

ward froze. he had forgotten about that. “were you ever gonna tell me, or were you just gonna be a coward about it?” rafe stood up, towering over his father with that crazy look in his eyes. “what you forgot to do before you faked your own death instead of facing your problems like a man, was take my name off of the inheritance of tanneyhill.” he laughed, “i own this shit now.” rafe stepped closer, backing ward into the wall. “get out of my house.” ward was seething, his hand coming up to fist rafe’s shirt.

“your house? i’m the one who worked like a dog to get us here.” ward said through gritted teeth, shoving rafe in his chest. rafe stumbled, scoffing out a laugh as he then pushed his father. “worked like a dog to get us here but you were more than willing to leave me here while you start a new life in fuckin’ guadeloupe.” rafe fought to keep his emotions at bay.

“leave. and don’t ever come back.” ward’s chest was rising and falling, both him and rafe glaring at one another. “you’re cut off. good luck keeping up with this place on your own.” ward smiled bitterly. “cut off?” rafe narrowed his eyes, “i’ve been cut off, dad. i haven’t used a cent of yours since i was nineteen. all this time i’ve been making money my own way, and a lot of it too. ‘seems like your old man brain forgot about that.” rafe nudged ward as he walked past, his father following him out of the master bedroom.

“i’m leaving. when i come back i want you out of here,” rafe grabbed his truck keys, his skin on fire as he looked up the staircase, “and by the way, asshole, i’m not by myself. i got the prettiest girl on the island on my arm everywhere i go.” ward watched as his son walked out the front door. rafe was seeing red the whole time he drove to your house, cursing under his breath as he recalled his father’s words.

“the fucking nerve that guy has.” he punched the steering wheel, nostrils flaring as tears pricked at his eyes. he was the only one who was there to take care of things when ward was ‘gone’. even going as far as committing crimes so his father wouldn’t face any kind of scrutiny. yet, there he was telling him that he was a fuck up.

rafe spent the next five minutes mumbling to himself, his hands shaking as he parked outside your driveway. you were curled up on the porch swing, an open book in your lap when he walked up the stone path. all it took was one look at your boyfriend to have you scrambling up from your seat, eager to soothe him in any way you can. “oh, ray, what’s wrong?” you guided him inside, locking the door shut before both of you made your way up to your room.

“it’s ward. he came back just to tell me shit about not closing the bank accounts under cameron development.” you knew all about rafe’s conflict with his father. from the way he favored everyone else over his eldest, to the constant nagging and insults. sitting rafe down on the edge of your bed, you couldn’t help the way your heart sunk at the sight of defeat in his shoulders, his eyes void of any emotion.

slipping his shoes off, you took your usual seat in his lap, stroking the outline of his jaw as he vented. “i’ll never be good enough for him. i killed for him goddamit, and what do i get in return? ‘i should put a caution sign on your forehead.’ rafe imitated ward’s voice from earlier. you blinked, pecking his cheek. “you’re an amazing son, rafe. shame on him for not recognizing that.” rafe stared up at you, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

you were the only one that looked at him with pure adoration, the only one who made him feel like he had a purpose. “i think you’re amazing, rafe. you don’t sit around, waiting to get things done, you’re so helpful, and so, so kind— to me.” he chuckled at the clarification, rubbing a large hand over your knee. “you think so?” he leaned his head against your chest, your arms coming up to hold him. “i know so.” you sighed, breathing in his scent.

“wanna be little spoon tonight?” your voice alone made him relax, his eyes fluttering shut.

“..yeah.”

[vaspider]

Last year I wrote about what happened at Pride when a couple of kids didn't understand why us older folx were so bitter about Reagan.

This year, I have something a little softer.

Someone who looked a little older than me came up to the booth wearing a pink t-shirt proclaiming him one of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, San Francisco chapter. As I was ringing him up, I asked if he'd been involved for a while.

"Yes," he said, "for a bit," in that way us middle-aged people do when we're sort of wincing and feeling old.

"Okay, well," I said, sitting at my register in my queer booth full of queer clothes and patches and pins, topless in public for the first time. (I had pasties on for my own comfort bc I was working, but I live in the city of the Naked Bike Ride, and I took full advantage). My baby brother and both of my partners ran around behind me, my brother wearing a loose tank top that makes his scars visible.

"I need to tell you that you all helped keep me alive."

He blinked at me as I continued, "I was a kid in high school in the early 90s. I lived in the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania, and what you all were doing was so loud and so out there that even I heard about your work. It was one of the things that kept me alive. So thank you, and please thank the rest of the Sisters."

I heard about them through people in my parents' church complaining about them, and then I sought more information through the beginning of the internet, through newspapers, through anything I could find. I found the cover of Newsweek that one of the Sisters was on. I read about their "exorcism" of fundamentalist preachers whose books sat on the shelf in my parents' basement and probably still do. I saw how loud and colorful and unapologetically queer they were.

The knowledge that someone was out there, so full of defiant joy, refusing the shame that people kept trying to put on them? Oh, that kept me alive. I saw them, and I knew I could make it through. I wrapped my hands around that knowledge, and I held on so tight.

It took me a long time - a long, long time - to unwind most of it for myself and get to the point where my fat butch ass was sitting bare-chested in the July breeze, looking up at him as he held out his arms and said "you're actually giving me chills." I answered, "I mean every word. You helped keep me alive. So thank you."

I never know what to say when people come up to me in public and tell me that I helped them or changed their life in some way. I appreciate it, and I genuinely love the people who apologized for "fanpersoning" at me last weekend, I just never know what to say. I'm incredibly grateful that the Sister I spoke to was incredibly gracious, saying "usually we give blessings, but I feel like you blessed me." Another member of the party let me pet their tiny dog, who was not very interested in me, and that's okay. It was an overwhelming day. Then, they moved on.

Me? I'm still sitting with the fact that I looked last weekend into the faces of people who didn't know they were holding my head above water, and that I got to tell them the work they do matters. It's a rare thing to get to tell someone, "You saved me," and I'm treasuring it.

Last weekend, I wore my new battle vest with nothing underneath it, unless it was too hot, and then I just sat in my chair, chatting and ringing ppl out with my skin free to the air. I decided last year that top surgery isn't for me, but that also I'm going to love this body unapologetically, and it's no less a transmasculine body because the soft new dark hair on my belly isn't accompanied by pink scars along my ribs.

I didn't get here on my own. I got here because someone else cut through the undergrowth ahead of me so I could take another step forward. Here I am, decades later, still taking step after step, one at a time, and trying to lay paving stones behind me.

Last weekend was another step along that way, another step through unwinding the fear and shame and sadness that my parents and their church built into me. Another step out of hating myself for hiding parts of myself for so long, for acting out in other ways to distract people from my queerness, for feeling so much guilt when other people tell me I'm brave, because I know how much of myself I hid for how long because I was a coward, because I was afraid.

Another step into expiating stigmatic guilt.

[moonstruckme]

Doctor!remus whose constantly worried about reader because she always wants to ‘wait things out’ instead of going to the doctor 😭

Thanks for requesting <3

cw: mention of blood, mention of stitches (doesn't happen in the fic)

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 642 words

“Hey,” you call when the door opens, looking up from your project to smile at your boyfriend.

“Hello.” Remus lifts an eyebrow at the half-done puzzle on the coffee table as he toes off his shoes. You ignore the look until he’s behind you, sitting on the couch with his knees caging you on the floor. He leans down to kiss your cheek. “I see you’ve been working on it without me.” 

You hum complacently. “That’s what you get for staying late at work.” 

He gives a monosyllabic, appalled laugh. “Oh, it’s like that, is it? I work late to catch up, and you just get to be as unfaithful as you like?” 

“Unfaithful.” You roll your eyes, smiling as you turn to face him. He closes his eyes expectantly, and you kiss him. “You know the puzzle and I would’ve both rather had you here with us, but we get lonely. It’s only fair that we be allowed to keep each other company in your absence.” 

“You’re absurd,” he says worshipfully. “What’ve you got there?” 

You follow his gaze to your closed hand resting on his knee. 

“Oh.” Your fingers flex self-consciously. “A paper towel.” 

Remus’ smile is bemused. “You’re holding onto a paper towel?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Why, dove?” 

“I just,” you keep your voice casual, hoping to inspire similar feelings of nonchalance in your easily-concerned boyfriend, “cut myself a bit earlier, so I thought I should keep pressure on it.” 

Despite your efforts, that dreaded concern bends Remus’ expression. “You cut yourself? Why didn’t you put a bandage on it?” 

“I tried, just it wouldn’t…stop bleeding.” 

You’re avoiding his eyes now, but the brief, disbelieving silence and then the weary sigh tell you all you need to know. 

“Let’s see it, then.”

You set your hand in the one he holds out for you. 

However exasperated he might be, Remus is gentle as he removes the paper towel. He tsks when blood immediately wells up in your cut. 

“This looks deep,” he muses. “How did it happen?” 

“I was cutting up the cantaloupe you got us, and the knife slipped through where I wasn’t expecting it,” you explain sheepishly. “The point of it went in a little ways.” 

“Oh, dove.” Remus folds your fingers over the paper towel again, bringing your knuckles to his lips. “You didn’t cut yourself, you stabbed yourself, sweetheart. This needs stitches.” 

“I thought it might,” you admit, “but I wanted to wait and—”

“Wait and see?” Your boyfriend gives you a knowing look. “And how long ago did this happen?” 

You exhale. “About noon.” 

There’s some sympathy mixed into the disappointment in Remus’ expression. “So you’ve waited about seven hours, then. I think that’s long enough, don’t you?” 

“I don’t know.” You look away from him, feeling chastised. “I thought maybe if it was still bleeding tomorrow morning I’d go.” 

“Tomorrow morning? It’s already been all of today! How many paper towels have you gone through?” 

“A few,” you mumble. 

Remus’ sigh fans hot over your knuckles. He kisses them again. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t mean to take a tone with you. I just worry. Sometimes waiting and seeing can be dangerous, you know?” 

“I wasn’t bleeding out,” you point out. “And I just felt like I had things to do, you know? Taking a bus to A&E wasn’t at the top of my priority list.” 

“That’s when you call me,” he says, emphatic but not unkind. “And for future reference, I think a trip to A&E warrants an uber fare.” 

You make a face that lets him know you’re not so sure. Remus chuckles. 

“But we don’t have to deal with that now,” he goes on. “I’ll take you. Come on, let’s go.” 

“What about the puzzle?” 

“Your paramour will still be here for you when we get back, my love.”

[chiscaralight]

scara x afab!gn!reader

tried to make it as neutral as possible, they ‘hate’ each other, hair pulling, ass slapping, fingering, lowkey kinda shit towards the end but oh well, all the nasty stuff is below the cut

1.7k words

you were fuming. Your teacher had assigned to your entire class partners for a written-up project and here you were; sitting at scaramouche’s desk, barely able to get any writing out on the paper as another scoff fell from your lips.

“if all you’re going to do is bitch and moan about me being your partner then shut the fuck up and get out. I’ll do it myself.”

‘fine by me,’ you thought, as you moved to start packing your stuff up from all over the table. You had gotten to your feet when the barely audible ‘lazy bitch’ from the man on the bed rooted your feet right into the ground. The look of relief on your face morphed from disbelief to pure rage as you gripped your pencil in your hand, unable to believe he had the nerve to speak to you like that.

“what the fuck did you just call me?”

you refused to turn away from the desk as you heard the bed creak. scaramouche had gotten up and the slight mocking tone that he was speaking with only infuriated you further.

“you’ve barely done anything and at the first green light to leave you’re ready to run away as if it’s not a majority of your own grade.“

“that’s just because i don’t want to be near you in any capacity.”

you were lying straight through your teeth. you could barely contain yourself across from him in class, how were you supposed to do it mere feet away from him ? the two of you pass each other in the halls, exchanging dirty looks and throwing vile words at each other. you tell your friends how much you want him away from you, but you’re still the same person who moans out his name when you fuck yourself with your fingers at night, wishing it was him.

“yeah sure, the same way —“

“just shut the fuck up. “

how you managed to miss his footsteps making their way towards you, you wouldn’t know. but the icy ‘say it to my face’ is what caused you to turn around, finally realizing how close he was to you.

Your breath hitched as you locked your eyes with him. He was barely taller than you but the way he stared down at you made you feel like you were staring at a giant. his pale, porcelain skin contrasting with the dark of his furrowed eyebrows as he waited for a response.

“if you have anything to say, say it to my fucking face.”

another wave of silence fell over you as you realized the situation you were in. the back of your thighs pressed against the desk as scaramouche was so close to you, you were sure he could feel the heat radiating off your body.

“fuck you, scaramouche.” you spat, as your eyes fail you and fall to his lips.

“say it again.” You catch his eyes once again. he didn’t look as pissed as he did literal seconds ago; there was something else going through his mind. he unfolded his arms and placed them on the table, caging you in and bringing his face closer to yours.

“say. it. again.”

your shaky voice is barely louder than a whisper;

“fuck you.”

you can barely process the fucking hell that comes from him as he’s crashing his lips onto yours.

it takes you a second to realize what’s happening. but once you do, you’re melting into the kiss, arms wrapping around his neck to pull his body closer to yours. the kiss is messy, but you don’t mind at all as his hands grip the lower back of your thighs to lift you onto the desk. his cold hands snake up your shirt, the new sensation causing you to gasp into his mouth. he uses the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth as he brings up his other hand to undo the buttons on your shirt and take it off you.

he briefly breaks the kiss to rid himself of his own shirt before he begins to attack your neck with bites and wet, open-mouthed kisses as he pinches your nipples. you bite back a moan and he wastes no time in raising his hand to grip the base of your neck and turns you towards his face.

“none of that. i need to hear you.”

his words hit that spot right between your legs as his mouth connects with your nipple. the harsh sucking sends a shiver down your spine as you weakly call out his name. you’re tugging at his smooth locks as he’s switching between your tits and neck, decorating your skin with an array of marks that will definitely feel sore later. a bite to a certain spot at the base of your neck has you crying out and you can feel him smirk against your skin. he pulls you much closer to the edge of the table and that’s when you feel how hard he is against your clothed cunt. he’s slowly grinding against you and groaning into your sensitive skin and it’s all so much.

he slides his hand in between the two of you to push against your clit and you cry out once again, instinctively clutching onto his shoulders.

“look at you, so pathetic. is this how you treat the people you hate? you moan their names like a slut?”

he’s moving his fingers faster now, barely enough for you to cum, but just enough to keep you on the edge, little whines falling from your lips.

“imagine what your friends would say. letting me touch you like this after you tell them you can’t stand to be in the same room as me.”

you catch him off guard, using your legs to pull him closer. you can hear him let out a soft gasp as he’s pushed up against you once again.

“a-and what would your friends think when they hear how hard you are for me? you’re no better than me in this situation, so shut it and just fuck me already.”

you look at his face one more time and it’s an expression you can barely decipher. the two of you keep eye contact until you hear the chuckle that erupts from him. you part your lips to question, but he's already back on yours, tongue sliding right into your mouth and his hands finding the back of your legs to pick you up and move you to the bed.

scaramouche is on top of you, eyes fixated on that pretty face of yours. You can barely keep your eyes open as he scissors his fingers into you, prodding and poking at your walls. a particular curl of his fingers has your back arching off the bed, his bed, as his other hand keeps him propped up over you. he’s moving at a steady pace and you can feel your orgasm building up in the pit of your stomach. he could apparently sense it too, because much to your dissatisfaction, he begins to slow down. you don’t even get the chance to complain before he pulls his hand away entirely. a disapproving whine leaves your lips as he tells you to be patient and moves to take off his pants. you use the opportunity to slide your skirt off and lay back down. by the time he’s done, he can barely keep his eyes from wandering over your naked figure. he drags his finger down the center of your body while he tells you how he can’t understand how such a beautiful person can have such a foul mouth and shitty attitude. you can’t hide how your skin flushes from the words, but you roll your eyes nonetheless and tell him to hurry up.

Once again he’s on top of you, sliding his arms under your knees and using them to keep your legs up and in place. he whispers for you to keep your eyes on him while he pushes himself into you.

it was disgusting how good the stretch felt. it was so perfect how he fit right in you, your nails dragging against the skin of his back as he plunged the rest of his length into your tight cunt.

“fuck you’re so warm, been dreaming of fucking this pussy for so long,”

he begins to grind against you, the friction painting your body with streaks of pleasure

“always knew you’d feel- fuck, so fuckin good.”

he’s thrusting into you so slow, so deep, and the lewd sound of his skin slapping against yours paired with how hard his cock was hitting all your sensitive spots was driving you insane. the incoherent words fell from your lips with each thrust and you could feel the tears prick the corners of your eyes.

“wanna turn you around, beautiful,”

and he flipped you over with ease, wasting no time to drag your hips up and slide right back in, drawing a loud whine from you once again. he planted his foot on the bed and started fucking you fast and hard.

you barely had time to gather yourself as each thrust had you crying out more and more. He gripped a fistful of your hair and dragged your head up, looking down to catch your fucked out expression. you knew you looked a mess, but you couldn’t even begin to care as his hand connected with the fat of your ass, the feeling sending you straight to euphoria.

you couldn’t ignore the pleasure pooling in your lower belly anymore.

“scara- please..”

he only hmmed in response.

“need- ah -need to cum so bad !”

the grip on your hair only tightened as he began to slow down.

“i don’t think you deserve to.”

and you began to cry and beg and plead for him to let you cum. it was so close you could almost taste it, why would he take it away from you?

“i’ll do anything, please- anything! just let me-“

“anything?”

“fuck-yes anything so please just let me cum-“

that was all the convincing he needed because he started to pick right back up, along with your moans. The grip he had on your hips was inhumane as he slammed into you.

it didn’t take long before you were seeing stars, barely able to keep your body up anymore as the pleasure overtook every inch of your body.

when you finally came to, a blanket was pulled over your frame, and an arm

was resting against your waist.

you sat up, fatigue washing over your body like a gust of wind.

“leaving so soon? we haven’t even decided what ‘anything’ would be.”

[goatboard]

*has a mental breakdown from literally having no time for myself and depriving myself of pleasure until i even stop taking my meds bc im so depressed and tired to even remember to do that*

*finally skips a day of school to literally nap for 5 hours straight and then play some games and it helps me not fall into an even deeper and longer depressive episode*

*three days later gets caught playing solitaire on my laptop after dinner as a break because i was working on my projects right before it and finished a very major thing*

mother: well since apparently youre not taking this entire thing seriously i no longer will allow you to take "mental health days" if youre not gonna work after it

[f1smutwriter]

|𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐒𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐬 (𝐦𝐯𝟏, 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔)

Dom!Max x Sub!Charles x Sub!fem reader

Summary: Charles wants to break the rules but she’s not sure. They both get punished for touching each other without permission

Warnings: SMUT! Dom/subs situation, punishment, oral (fem rec), threesome, praising, degrading, unprotected sex (girl don’t even thing about it), pet names (good boy/girl, princess, baby boy, my love etc), bondage, sex toys, dirty talk, anal, subspace, overstimulation, and way more that I might have missed

Notes: This was a request but I did something completely stupid. So if you’re the one who requested this here it is again I’m sorry for not tagging you. Hope you like it!

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“Please mon amour he won’t find out, just need your help baby” Charles begged me while rubbing his hard cock through his pants. He’s been begging me for about 30 minutes wanting to be inside me since max wasn’t there to help him. “But Maxie is gonna get mad don’t want to get punished cha” I whimpered to him while squeezing my thighs as he rubs them both with his hands.

“He won’t punish us, please baby need your pussy” he whimpered to me holding my hips slowly moving them to my clothed pussy. I whined feeling his hands over my wet pussy making me grind on his hand needy. “See you want it to please we just have to be quick” he explained to me making me give in to the pleasure.

“Promise that Maxie won’t get mad” I asked him innocently not knowing if he was telling the truth or not. “I promise he won’t get mad” he insisted making me nod and let him touch me. Once I gave him the nod he started taking off my clothes one by one. Once he was done taking off my clothes he started kissing me making me whimper against him. He took off his shirt and pants leaving him in his underwear. He rubbed my wet folds making me squeal from the sudden pleasure taking over my body.

“Need your cock cha please” I begged him slowly going into that fuzzy mind set I always get when I’m with him or max. Once he heard me beg for his length he slowly takes off his underwear showing me his cock leaking with pre-cum at the angry red tip. He runs his tip against my throbbing clit making me whimper more for him pleading for him to push Inside me. He finally pushed himself inside me making us both moan out in unison. He starts thrusting picking up a pace that we both liked. He was moaning and whimpering feeling my tight wet walls around his leaky cock.

“You feel so good. M’not gonna last. Your so tight” he whimpered to me making my walls clench around him. We were so into each other we didn’t hear the door open or close. He was thrusting harder and harder making me scream out his name. Max heard everything and he was pissed. He knew what we were doing. So he walked to our room opening the door and watching Charles plow his cock into my soaking cunt. I opened my eyes to see Charles but instead I see an angry max behind him.

“Cha stop it” I whined to him pushing his chest so he stop thrusting into me. “Maxie is-“ I say before getting cut off my Charles. “Maxie is not gonna know please baby I’m so close” he whined thrusting faster making me yelp out when I feel his tip brush my g-spot.

“Oh so I’m not gonna know” Max said loudly behind him making his cock slip out so he can turn around. Max was pissed. He had a raging hard on but his body spoke different. “Was gone for an hour and you couldn’t wait for me Charles. But not only you couldn’t wait you had to bring our good girl into this” he growled to Charles slowly walking over to the naked man.

“M’sorry, w-was hurting a-and you said I couldn’t touch myself anymore” he stuttered scared knowing he was gonna get punished for his actions. “Aww the slut is sorry. What are you sorry for, I’m surprised you didn’t have her fuck you, can never go a day without being full can you” Max shouted before grabbing Charles cock and squeezing it. That made Charles whimpered and it made me gasp from the sight in front of me. “Baby girl” Max called out to me.

“Yes daddy” I say my voice sounding so little compared to his. “Who started it” he asked wanting to know an answer knowing I was gonna tell the truth. “I did daddy” I lied to him not wanting Charles to get punished badly.

“Are you lying to me princess, because you know daddy doesn’t like liars” he warned me giving me his famous stern look, the same look he gives us when we do something we should have. I gulped slight still wanting to protect Charles. “Yes daddy I know, I started it asked cha to fill me up because I missed you” I whimpered to him not making eye contact with his dark lustful eyes.

“See now I know you’re lying, because when you lie you don’t look at me. So why are you lying to me baby girl. What happened to my good girl, Charles is my brat but you you’re my angel” he said disappointed that I was lying to him to protect Charles. “Wanted to protect cha don’t want him to get punished” I cried to him softly finally looking up at him showing him the sad look on my face.

“You hear that Charles she wanted to protect. My sweet angel wanted to protect my naughty brat. What do you say Charles what do you say to our baby girl” Max grumbled in his deep dominant voice that makes us straight up instantly. “Thank you angel” Charles whimpered to me still feeling Maxes hand around his throbbing cock.

“Princess would you do daddy a favor” he mumbled to me, making full eye contact. “Can you go get me the hand cuffs and the cock ring for brat” he grunted to me in his deep voice making me nod and Charles whimpered knowing exactly what cock ring he was asking for. The cock ring that vibrates around his shaft but doesn’t let him cum. I quickly get up going into the closet grabbing the things he wanted before putting them on the bed.

“And you go lay on the bed. Now” he demanded Charles before Charles goes and scurry’s off to the spot where he always gets tied up to. “Your gonna watch me fucking out girls pretty pussy while your stuck. Do you understand” he growled to Charles while cuffing his wrist around our headboard, all Charles can do is nod whimpering as Max slips the cock ring on him.

Max slaps his thigh and grabs his face. “You know the rules. We use our words got it” he growled to him animalistic tone making Charles whine softly. “Yes daddy I understand” Charles moaned softly to him bucking his hips up. “Good boy” Max mumbled before turning on the cock ring which vibrated at the bottom of his shaft. Charles yelps from the sudden vibration making him tug on the hand cuffs that had thick fur on them so it doesn’t hurt our wrist.

“Angel what’s your color” Max questioned rubbing my cheek with his thumb making me look up with him with such pure eyes. “Green daddy” I whispered to him as Charles moans and whines in the background. “Charles what’s your color” Max asked him watching Charles buck his hips and tremble in pure pleasure. “G-green” he squealed feeling his first orgasm but not being able to let it out due to the cock ring.

“Lay down baby, daddy’s gonna taste this pussy okay” he told me before laying me down as Charles watches my every move. Max slowly runs his fingers through my folds making me gasped loudly from sensitivity. “Aww is my princesses pussy sensitive” he teased circling my clit with his thumb. All I could do was whine out making him slap my clit hard. I yelped out before soft tears run down my face. “Do I need to remind you both the rules. You both speak with words do you understand” he said pissed at the both of us. “Yes daddy” we say in unison.

“My good little sluts, but you your not a slut angel you can go a day without being filled, but you Charles always need your tight hole filled with daddy’s cock huh” Max taunted watching the younger boy cry out from the pure overstimulation. “Y-yes, always need your c-cock” Charles cried out throwing his head back in pleasure and pain.

“Imagine what all your friends would say if they saw you like this. Showing them how much of a slut you are for me. How much you begged to get filled up by my cock” he taunted his while circling Charles sensitive nipple with his finger. “Now watch me eat our girls pussy okay” he says before leaning down to my pussy spreading it slight to see my clit. He kitten licks my clit softly making me gasp from the sudden sensation. Before I know it he’s feasting on my pussy like he was starving. Licking, sucking, nipping. Everything that made me feel rush of pleasure. I moaned out his name while pulling his hair.

“Nu uh don’t moan mine name moan his name” he mumbled against my pussy wanting me to moan Charles name while he eats my cunt. So I do what he says. “Charlie feels s-so good” I cried out while looking at Charles seeing him cry out from not being able to cum. All he can do was whimper and cry not being able to touch me at all. I feel max suck on my clit harshly making my thighs tremble around his head. “D-da-daddy too much” I squealed feeling him suck my sensitive clit.

But he doesn’t stop all he does is abuse my clit knowing that will make me cum faster. I feel the familiar knot in my stomach about to snap. “Daddy need to cum. Can I please cum” I begged for permission to release the knot. All he did was hum a yes in my trembling pussy making me cum all over his face with a scream. He cleaned me up with his tongue dragging out my orgasm. Once I finally cum down from my high, I’m deeper into the fuzzy headspace and he knows it.

“Maxie m-may I please cum” Charles begged with dried tears on his cheek. All max did was chuckle at him taking off the cock ring and un cuffing him. “Took your punishment so good my good boy. Go grab me the lube and I’ll fuck you while our angel rides your pretty cock okay” he said softly the softest he’s talked to Charles today. Charles nod softly slowly getting into that headspace as well kissing max and me softly. He got up and grabbed the lube giving it to max.

Max slowly puts lube on his fingers and Charles hole to prep him making the trembling boy gasp from the cold sensation. Max rubbed the rim of his hole before slowly sticking a finger in him. Charles let out a loud moan miss the feeling of being full. Max slowly starts to scissor another finger into him to stretch out the ring of muscle. Max pushed his finger deeper curling it into Charles pressing the tip of his fingers into Charles prostate making Charles cry out.

“I think your stretched out enough baby boy” Max says to the whimpered boy before putting lube onto his cock. Then max looked at me “ready princess” he asked me before slipping his cock into Charles tight hole making them both groan. I slowly move closer to Charles cock sliding my pussy back onto it for the second time that night. “S-so full” Charles gasped out feeling Maxes cock deep inside him. While I fuck my pussy onto Charles cock making him feel extra pleasure. Me and Max move at the same pace making us all moan out. The room was filled with pornographic moans from the all of us letting the pleasure take over our body’s.

“M-maxie gonna cum” Charles yelled out loudly as I go faster on his cock. “Me too” I cried out feeling his tip hit nothing but my g-spot. “Come on my sluts, cum for me. Cum for daddy” Max growled before pounding into Charles hole hitting his prostate over and over again making Charles let his warm seed in me. That triggered my orgasm, I tighten my already tight walls around him making me cum all over his cock. Once I tightened he squeezed his hole around max for the overstimulation. Max moans loudly cumming in Charles before panting and slipping out softly making Charles whine from the lack of fullness.

Max gets up and go gets a wet towel to clean us up with me and Charles both in the deep fuzzy mind set cuddling together. Max comes back and cleans up the cum out of mine and Charles hole. He threw the towel on the floor bringing us into his lap as we babbled nonsense to him. “Did so good, my good girl and good boy. Made daddy so proud” he praised us running his fingers through our hair.

“Come back to me daddy doesn’t want you to get sick. Come back to me” he said not wanting us to get sub drop again like we did last time. We slowly come back to him our babbling becoming less and less. Once we finally came back we cuddled deeper into him slowly falling asleep in my arms. “I love you so much” he whispered to us both before we fall asleep feeling same.

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Notes: that was very intense. Again the request are open please leave me some so I can post for you guys. This was a request I’m sorry I couldn’t tag you I’m still new at this. But anyways I really hope you guys liked this!

[dix0nspretty]

Knives, Bikes, and Stitches, Oh My!

Summary: Daryl is working on his motorcycle and you watch. Too bad you can't keep your focus.

Daryl Dixon x F!Reader, 1.3k words

Era: Prison (again) because he's just so yummy...

TW: Mention of blood and stitches. Maybe chronic horniness?

Y'all loved my first story and I hope this one whets your appetites just as well! I have no idea how motorcycles or vehicles of literally any kind work, so please feel free to educate me in the comments.

You put the fear of God in Daryl every time he sees you with a knife.

It’s not that you can’t use one. On the contrary, you’re a force to be reckoned with when you’re fighting. Sometimes all that can be seen of you in a fight is the shine of blood-tinged metal as you slash and stab at whatever is attacking with your twin blades. No, your knives are comfortable and at home in your grip. Maybe too comfortable.

“How many times I got to tell ya to stop eatin’ off yer damn knife?” Daryl’s rough accent sounds out in the empty courtyard. His head is bowed low as he works on his bike, not looking up as he speaks.

I’m perched on the tabletop of one of the prison’s picnic tables eating a can of peaches. Daryl, for some reason unknown to me, had elected to start taking his bike apart and putting it back together and I followed along to watch the process. I don’t know shit about vehicles, much less motorcycles, but I like spending time with the grumpy man.

“It’s fine, I’m not gonna cut myself.” I tell him as I tilt my head down to drag a slice of peach off the blade. Daryl’s eyes don’t move from the work in front of him, but I can feel him watching me. I pull the chunk into my mouth and lick the blade clean of the sticky juice.

“Told ya to cut it out.” I’m eating the canned fruit haphazardly, not paying any attention to how close I am to the edge. Daryl shakes his head. He knows it’s a matter of time before I cut my lip or tongue.

At his repeated command, I roll my eyes but pull away from the edge of my knife. I set the can of peaches down and watch him. His brown hair is getting longer now and it’s sliding down into his eyes, shielding most of his face from my watchful gaze.

“What are you doing, anyways?” I ask. I scoot myself closer to the edge of the table and peer down over his shoulder. He has one of his tools in his hand and some pieces of metal I can’t identify. It is roughly the size of my fist and cylindrical. Whatever it is, it looks important.

Daryl glances over his shoulder, feeling my curious eyes looking down. He huffs and continues his task. “Workin’.”

“No shit. Working on what?” I’m playing with my knife in my fingers, absentmindedly twisting and flipping it. Daryl looks up at me through his hair, squinting one eye against the sunlight. My breath catches in my throat, and I try to play it cool.

“Do ya really want to know or are ya jus’ bored?” He asks in his gruff voice. I don’t answer for a second. He looks so pretty. Get a grip, Y/N, I think to myself.

“Really want to know. Come on, I don’t know anything about bikes. Teach me something.” Daryl squints at me for several seconds longer and I’m convinced he’s going to send me inside to bother someone else, but he slowly starts talking.

“’M cleanin’ the carburetor.” He tilts his hand up to show me the same piece I was looking at earlier. “It’s startin’ to get clogged.”

“Oooookay. What’s that do?”

“It keeps the engine runnin’ smooth, basically. Don’t keep it clear and that can fuck up the bike, make it stall or overheat. Gotta take it apart and clean it every few months.”

Daryl lets me watch over his shoulder as he points out different parts of the carburetor and how to clean them. After a few minutes, his gruff voice starts to fade out and my mind begins to wander.

He just looks so good. His hands are greasy and dirty from all of his work today and his biceps are sweaty from the Georgia heat. He’s wearing one of his simple black shirts that already fit him so well and the sweat is only making him look more delicious. I’m watching his hands work over the small brass jets when I feel burning heat in my palm and look down.

I’d been messing with my knife the entire time and cut myself. I instinctively let go of the blade and it hits the concrete with a harsh clang. Daryl’s head lifts at the noise and he spins around right as I rush to tuck both hands behind my back. I look like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar and I’m trying to hide the chocolatey evidence. Except this time, it’s blood.

Daryl’s eyes run over me for a second, then flick down to my knife as it sits on the dirty floor. He slowly bends down and picks it up. “Y/N.” He starts, a low warning in his tone.

“It’s fine! I’m fine, I just dropped it.” My voice rambles out. There’s a high, nervous note to it and I’m hoping to God he doesn’t notice.

He raises an eyebrow. “If yer fine, why’s the knife got fresh blood on it?” Fuck.

“Uhhhhh.” I look around the courtyard, trying to find an excuse. I, naturally, see nothing. “Magic?”

Daryl huffs and crosses his arms. “Let me see your hands.”

I wince. I don’t want to get in trouble, but I can feel the blood dripping off my hand, and it stings. The longer I hold off showing him the angrier he’ll get.

“Y/N. Hand, now.” Daryl’s voice leaves no room for arguments.

“Jus’, don’t be mad?” I ask. He says nothing and I sigh, then slowly move my hands back in front of me. The blood is quickly evident on my skin.

“God damn it, girl. Why can’t ya ever listen to me?” Despite his rough tone, his hands are gentle as he takes my wrist and tilts my hand, inspecting the damage. I risk a glance at my hand. There’s a slash across my entire palm and more blood than there should be. It’s going to need stitches.

“Ya need stitches.” Told you.

 Daryl looks up from my hand but doesn’t let go of my wrist. His eyes lock with mine and he gives me a warm look. There’s exasperation and concern and I don’t know what to do with it. He takes a surprisingly clean rag from his pocket and ties it around my bleeding palm, firmly but not enough to hurt.

I can’t help but be surprised by just how gentle he’s being with me. I was expecting a pop in the side of the head and a banishment to Hershel’s cell. I look up at him through my lashes, waiting for my verbal lashing. After almost a minute, I realize there is none.

“Does this mean I gotta go in now?” I try to keep the potential disappointment from my voice and don’t entirely succeed.

“Yeah, yer going to go get those stitches. Ya weren’t listenin’ anyways.” He grumbles at me. “The hell were you doin’?”

I look away from him. I do not want to explain that I was too busy being horny over him to notice that I gouged my palm open. I risk a glance at him and I’m caught by those ocean-blue eyes.

“I was watching your hands…”

Daryl pauses, then snorts. “Maybe instead of watchin’ my hands ya should’ve been watching yours. Go get your damn stitches and I’ll show ya somethin’ else.”

[bluessmutifyplaylist]

Female reader and Leona Kingscholar, heat and breed please!

Warnings: Leona in a rut, oral (f! receiving), biting, breeding kink, unprotected sex, big dick lion ig?, always have your partner’s consent just like Leona has yours, creampie

Leona Kingscholar

When this man goes into his rut, he is an insatiable beast. It’s not even that he actually wants kids, but the thought of filling you up made him so hard that he couldn’t help himself but keep you full of his cum.

It was a mistake, really, walking into his room because you were so worried about him. Actually, a lot of Savanaclaw was on lockdown, and you were worried about your boyfriend. A few of the students who were still out and about warned you about going into the dormitory, let alone Leona’s room, but that made you even more concerned.

Once you opened the door, you heard the lion in question groaning. You called out his name, worried that he might be in some sort of pain. 

“Y/N, I need you to leave… now,” he growled.

“What’s wrong, Leona? Your dorm is on lockdown-”

You were cut off by him, because you blinked and suddenly you were pinned to the now-closed door.

“I said that you need to leave.” You expected him to be angry, but instead he had a look of desperation. He was pleading with you. You could feel the intense heat with how close he was. His hair was more disheveled than usual, a telltale sign that something was wrong.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on!” You insisted. He bore his teeth, his canines showing. You were starting to get a bit scared before he pushed off of you. “Leona?”

“Some of the beastmen in the dorm are going into their ruts. Did you walk all the way over here? In the midst of all this?! Where all these guys can smell you?!!!” His mind was racing a million miles a minute. How could you be this stupid? How could you come here, to a place with a bunch of guys going through this??

“You weren’t responding to my texts or calls, and I was getting worried!” This guy must have purchased his audacity because any girlfriend would be understandably worried when their boyfriend wasn’t responding.

He went quiet for a few moments. He was looking away from you, and you were worried that something was truly wrong. But, in the light, you saw a sheen of sweat on his face and you saw that his face was tinged with red. He was panting. You also noticed the not-very-subtle bulge in his pants.

Oh. Oh shit.

Now is when you process his words. The entire dorm was on lockdown because they are in their rutting seasons…

A certain familiar wetness made itself known between your legs, and Leona’s pupils dilated at smelling your arousal. What have you gotten yourself into? And why were you excited to find out?

In a matter of seconds, you could feel passionate kisses trailing up and down your neck, and you were powerless against it. The lion that you had called your boyfriend up to this point was nowhere to be found, and he had gone quite feral. However, he was still a gentleman.

“Y/N, this is your last chance to leave. If you stay, I won’t be able to control myself.” Leona managed to pull away for a few seconds to utter those words right next to your ear, and you felt your stomach flutter.

“Good, because I don’t want you to control yourself.” Was all you said, and you were hoisted up into the air, pinned to the door once again. You wrapped your legs around his torso to make sure you didn’t slip as you both began to make out. 

The beastman pulled away first, making sure to bite your bottom lip. However, the space wasn’t open for very long. It was just enough time to take you from the door to his bed. If he was going to make you his mat, he wanted to do it properly. Wait… mating? When did that come into play??

Doesn’t matter because he places his hands on the inside of your thighs a bit to separate them so he could slide your shorts and panties off easier. The smell emanating from the heat between your legs was heavenly.

Leona found himself quickly climbing off so that he could unbuckle his belt and take off his pants and boxers, revealing a length you weren’t sure you could handle. He saw your eyes widened, and so he crawled between your legs and started licking at your exposed folds.

His tongue had a bit of a rougher texture, not quite like a cat, but not quite like a human. It was something in-between, and it worked for your benefit. The sensation had you writhing and squirming in pleasure… that was, until he wrapped his arms around your thighs and put your legs on his shoulders.

“You’re not going anywhere, herbivore,” he mumbled straight into your pussy before going back to eating you out. 

Even though this was supposed to be to prepare you for his cock, this was also for his pleasure. Being surrounded by your smell and getting to taste your juices was all he could ever ask for. He left hickies and bite marks on your thighs as well. His canines drew blood on one of the marks, and he licked it up which made you whimper.

When he deemed you wet enough, he climbed up and lined his tip up with your entrance.

“It’s going to hurt, and you can tell me to stop whenever you want. If I don’t, slap me or some shit. I don’t want to do anything without your consent,” you nodded at his words, but he shook his head. “I need words, Y/n.”

“Please, Leona! I want you in me!” You moaned, hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. That’s when the last shred of sanity was barely hanging on.

He slowly entered you, giving you time to adjust to his size. You winced in pain, and once he was fully inside, he stopped. Your walls were squeezing the life out of him, and a groan made its way from out of his mouth. It was taking all of his willpower not to just rail you into oblivion.

After a few moments, he started slowly pulling back out, and the feeling was unlike anything else. He thrust his cock back in, and your eyes rolled back. Leona took this as an okay to start moving quicker. Your pussy squeezed him so hard, every time he pulled out it was like a magnet, calling for him to go back in. 

The coil in your belly unraveled not too far into your session with him. You soaked his cock in your juices, and he let out a deep, sexy growl before speeding up even more. Your overstimulated cunt was weeping and begging for more, and she got what she asked for. 

“Where do you want my cum, herbivore?” He was nearing his own release, and he looked into your eyes.

“Inside… Inside, please!” You mewled. You locked your legs around him, locking him in place.

Not too long after, you felt an explosion of warmth inside of you, and Leona leaned into your neck, biting into it and drawing even more blood. His tongue gently ran over it to clean it up, and he placed kisses along it as well.

He tried to pull back and admire his work, wanting to see you in your entirety. However, your legs were not letting go. Where you both remained connected, your juices were mixing with another, and some were getting on the sheets as well. Not that the Housewarden minded; it would remind him of the day he got to claim you as his own.

Your walls began squeezing him again, also not wanting to let go of him. Even though it hasn’t even been a full 5 minutes since you both came, he was hard again and you were aroused again.

“If we go again, herbivore, I might knock you up. Shit, I might have already. Do you want that?” He leaned more towards your ear, whispering. “Do you want to be filled with my cubs?”

And with that, you both fucked in every. possible. position. for the entire week he was in rut. You barely caught a break, and you were often on the verge of passing out from exhaustion.

[evie-sturns]

dent - Matt Sturniolo

summary: you accidentally dent matt's car after taking it to work, when you give matt the news he doesn't comfort you, quite the opposite actually resulting in an argument. he finds a good way to make it up to you after he realises he overreacted.

contains: angst, arguing, crying, yelling, slight panic attack, smut, fingering, matt the munch, fluff.

----------------------.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.-------------------

I walk out of my office into the cold hair which hits my bare skin harshly, I tug down my mini dress with a sigh as i approach my boyfriend, matt's, car. he let me borrow it for work today due to the fact my cars in the repair shop.

I swing open the door to his car, flopping down into the drivers seat and instantly turning on the heating. I drive forward a couple meters before realising i left my phone in the office

"shit" i mumble, slamming on the brakes and swinging open my door.

It hits the pole which i pulled up next to, "oh my fuck-" i gasp, "no- no" i repeat before jumping out of my car, looking at the door. It has a reasonably large dent in it now.

"no, no no no.." i throw my head into my hands, i decide to grab my phone then deal with this situation.

my heels click against the concrete as i sprint towards the front door of the office,

I swiftly run into the elevator and press level 6, my finger shaking. "what do I even say to matt!" I mumble to myself.

the elevator door opens with a ding and i make my way towards my room, I pull out my keys and unlock the door, walking back in and swiping my phone off of the desk. I run back towards the elevator and pile in with one of my coworkers.

"You 'goin lobby?" she asks, I nod with a forced smile as i fix my hair in the mirror. The door to the elevator opens, I speed-walk out and out the building towards matt's car.

I start to instantly feel guilty as i look at the door on the drivers side again, I open the door more carefully this time and jump in, I turn on the car and pull out of the parking spot,

my hands grip the wheel as panic flushes over me, "matt will understand, i'm sure."

-

after parking the car in the driveway I walk up the front porch, I knock twice on the door as I feel my eyes water slightly, I push back my tears with a deep breath.

Matt opens the door with a tired smile, "hey sweetheart! how was work?" he breathes out, I walk inside with a shaky breath, folding my arms over my stomach.

"matt.. i need to tell you something" i say, looking up at him with my bottom lip trembling.

"yeah!? anything- are you okay?" he says with a concerned look on his face.

"i- i um" i take a deep breath before continuing "i accidentally opened the car door into a pole- like really hard and now theres a big dent" i squeeze out, my voice breaking halfway through

"you what?" he raises his voice "let me see it?"

i nod, walking back outside towards the car, matt follows close behind me. he takes one look at the door and instantly turns around, throwing his hands up

"of course you fucking did!" matt raises his voice, walking back inside

"matt i'm sorry-" i start but matt cuts me off "i dont wanna hear it- i dont wanna hear your voice,"

my eyebrows twist "matt what? i'm gonna pay for that you know that" i say, slightly louder, following matt inside

"no- how the fuck are you that blind? how do you slam the car into a pole that big? are you fucking stupid!" matt yells, looking at me directly in the eyes.

my lips part in shock, "you can't speak to me like that matt! it was an accident" i argue back, matt scoffs.

"you're so fucking clueless."

i feel my eyes water, "why don't you do anything right?" he groans loudly.

i burst into sobs, "don't say that" i whisper, taking in sharp panicked breaths.

"i'll say what i want!? you can tell me what to say and what not to when you grow a fucking conscious!"

and with that i go to walk down the corridor past matt, already embarrassed from crying. he grabs my wrist tugging me back towards him. i gasp with an ugly sob

"look at me." matt growls, i shake my head looking down at my feet.

"look at me!" he raises his voice, "fine!" i yell, looking up at him.

"if my car. isn't fixed by tomorrow evening. we're going to have a problem y/n." matt says blankly.

"i know- let me go!" i whine, he releases his grip and i run towards matt and i's bedroom, slamming the door shut behind me.

i hear matt mutter something about me being pathetic through the door

“stop being so mean matt!” i yell in a bratty way, i feel my breathing get shallow, my body gradually heating up

my sobs never slow, in fact they get worse the more that the argument we just hand sinks into me. the whole house is now silent aside from matt and i’s room where i’m struggling to breathe

i sink down onto the floor against the wall as i bury my face in my knees, i take in shaky attempts of breathes as i cry into the fabric of my pants.

I pick up my phone and email matt’s insurance company, informing them on what just happened to his car. My hands shake against the keyboard, as soon as i press send i’m up off the floor and in my closet, tearing off my minidress and changing into one of matt’s shirts.

——

I’ve been laying in bed for about an hour now, just now realising that i haven’t ate since mid day and now it’s 9pm, i’ve finally calmed myself down after what happened earlier

matt won’t be in the kitchen i’m sure, i hoist myself up off of bed and walk into the corridor. I feel myself get nervous, i don’t want to get upset again.

as i reach the end of the corridor i enter the kitchen, matt sitting at the dining table on his phone with a plate of dinner infront of him,

it’s okay.

if i don’t look at him i’ll be fine.

i can see out of the side of vision matt looking up at me, i open the pantry.

matt clears his throat before starting, “I made you dinner aswell.. it- it’s in the fridge and there’s muffins in there too.” matt says softly, his voice is quiet, like if he gets any louder i’ll disappear.

i don’t respond, i don’t have to respond to anything he does after how he treated me earlier.

i open the fridge to see a plate of pasta in the fridge, topped with a stupid green leaf on top which matt ‘only does for special occasions’, i remember him telling me and we laughed about it for hours.

along side there’s a couple of muffins which have a poor attempt of being iced, a dollop of icing ontop of each one with some strategically placed sprinkles.

i take the two plates as i keep my lips pressed into a line, i walk back down the corridor into our room and shut the door behind me with a loud sigh.

i have to admit, it was sweet what he had made, he’s always had a weird love for cooking for me no matter how bad he was at it, i think it was because of the amount of enthusiasm i gave him every time he presented it to me.

i sit down at matt’s desk, my feet up on the chair as i take a small bite. I didn’t really have an appetite but i was hungry, and this was nice.

after devouring the muffins i was feeling better, it was now 9:30pm and I decided that i needed to have my hour on my phone in bed before i sleep. I leave the dishes in a neat pile on the desk.

usually i would take them into the kitchen but i didn’t want to see matt, i knew i would cry this time.

I flop down into matt and i’s bed, it feels empty without him. We’ve slept in the same bed every night of our relationship and it’s the only way i can sleep.

—-

10:23pm

knock knock

i hear soft knocking on the door, i choose to ignore it.

knock knock

again, followed by the door clicking open. i’m practically buried under the duvet, only my hair visible so i keep my eyes infront of me at my phone.

i hear matt’s footsteps get closer to the bed, from the small gap out of the duvet i see his jeans by the bed.

i think he’s trying to figure out if i’m awake or not.

I let out a deep sigh and tug the duvet up higher. Matt takes in a shaking breath as he looks down at me.

“can— may i sit down next to you? i want to talk” matt whispers.

may i? on normal days i would laugh at that, it’s so formal.

if i don’t agree we won’t talk this out, meaning that i won’t get any closure for longer. I nod my head slightly. matt climbs into bed beside me, the weight shifting to his side as he sits uncomfortably

he doesn’t waste time to start talking

“I’m so sorry- i’m so embarrassed about everything i said, i didn’t mean it.” matt’s voice trembles.

“do you want to come out of there- I want to see you.” matt whispers, tapping my shoulder lightly though the blanket.

i pull down the duvet and sit up against the duvet next to matt, i look up at him briefly. he looks distraught

his eyes are puffy and red, his nose red and eyes glossy.

he looks at me and i see guilt wash over him.

“i love you so much— i don’t want to loose what we have over a dent in my car.” matt says calmly,

“i said things that i’m really really not proud of.. at all. i didn’t even know what i was saying.. my mouth was spitting out shit faster than i could process.”

“i’m not even sure what i was saying.” matt sighs

“you- you’re mad at me though” i whisper

“i’m not mad at you princess, i’ve never been mad at you i promise. i just freaked out over something minor” matt says, reaching down and interlocking our fingers as a single tear falls from his eyes, i reach up and wipe it quickly.

“you don’t have to forgive me, i’m not expecting you to. but if you want- i could make it up to you..? or not i don’t know- i could go sleep in the spare bedroom if you need time alone i mean, but i’m so sorry.” he rambles

“make it up to me?” i whisper, “like how?” i ask with a sniff.

“you know…” matt hints “the thing that you like a lot from me?”

i nod, sinking my top teeth into my bottom lip.

“i’m sorry for making you cry sweetheart,” matt says, wiping my face with his cold hands.

“i’m fine- it’s okay.” i give matt a small smile.

he nods understandably before sitting up, he walks over to the edge of the bed beside me and lightly grips my ankles, spinning me round so my legs dangle off the edge of the bed

Matt kneels on the floor between my legs “can i take these off?” he asks softly, referring to the lace panties underneath matt’s shirt that i threw on earlier

i nod quickly, “words please” matt smiles, “yes- yes you can please” i spit out.

“there she is” matt says, hooking his fingers over the waistband and tugging them down to my ankles.

he doesn’t waste time to wrap his arms under my thighs, holding my lower back lightly to keep me up in the sitting position. “this okay?” he breathes, “yes!” i reply instantly, feeling the heat between my legs grow.

matt starts to press small pecks to the insides of my thighs, kissing around where i need him the most.

embarrassingly, i let out a soft whimper from the little amount of touch.

matt loves to eat me out, i’m not sure why but he goes all out like it’s his last meal. he says it’s because it makes me feel so good which i find cute.

“so pretty” matt says from between my thighs, he finally attaches his mouth to my clit,

“oh my god-“ i moan, intertwining my fingers on one hand into his brunette hair and placing my other hand behind me, feeling myself grow weak already.

matt removes one hand from under my thigh, letting it fall onto the bed, he reaches under his chin and slowly dips his middle finger into my hole, curling it up slightly “matt!” i whine, bucking my hips up into his mouth

he adds his other finger aswell, the cold metal of his rings against the warmth of me making my eyes roll back.

i grip his hair tighter as matt repeatedly curls his finger “how- how are you so good at this” i breathe out

matt laughs lightly, the vibrations earning a squeal from me.

“fuck fuck-“ i whimper, feeling myself get close.

matt swirls his tongue around my clit,

and with that my legs clench around his head and i finish

i feel myself release on matt’s fingers, my legs shake around his head as he pulls his mouth off of me, being careful to not overstimulate me.

i collapse down on the matress behind me, attempting to catch my breath as i let go of matt’s hair.

matt smiles stupidly at me, his lips glistening. he picks me up off the bed, holding me by my ass. he pecks kisses down my neck.

“thank you.” i sigh, burying my face into his neck.

“don’t thank me.” matt laughs, carrying me into the living room and flopping down on the couch, i lay on his body.

“matt?” i ask quietly

“yeah pretty?” he reply’s, his fingers tracing mindless shapes on my back.

“you know i love you.” i say into his shirt “i love you more.” matt smiles

“and your rings- please don’t ever take them off.” i laugh.

“whys that?” matt teases,

“they feel so good.” i mutter out, barely audible.

“is that so?” matt grins, “yes- yeah” my cheeks flush

matt chuckles slightly, shifting me up and down on his chest.

“you know the muffins you made that were in the fridge?” i start up a new conversation

“yeah?” matt smiles, “what the fuck was going on with the icing- i mean they were really good but the icing was… special!” i burst out laughing

matt laughs with me before replying

“i actually don’t know- i don’t think bakings for me. i put the icing on and it like melted into the cupcake”

i scoff, “it’s okay baby, they were so cute”

——————

@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @pkfferroo @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle

[circusofthelastdays]

foreplay & fingering with halsin

warnings: MDNI, NSFW, virgin reader, afab fem reader, dom halsin, submissive reader, foreplay, fingering, praise kink, edging, multiple orgasms, squirting, cum eating if you squint

"Oh my heart, look at you..." Halsin speaks in a sultry tone, placing a few sloppy kisses on your neck. He pulls your back tightly against his chest as you squirm under the onslaught of pleasure he offers you.

He's been toying with your clit far too long, leaving you oversensitive and soaking through your panties. His fingers move in a precise pattern over the nub, one meant to draw you close to another high, without a care that your thighs are starting to tremble and your cries are getting desperate.

With your head thrown back onto his shoulder, lewd whines and moans escape your lips- you mumble complaints about the intensity of his sensuous touch. "mm 's too much..."

"Shh shh, I must continue. I must prep you, we wouldn't want it to hurt when I give you what you truly want, now would we?" he chides, chuckling at the little noises you make as he slips his hand away and pulls off your panties.

Halsin lets out an audible groan upon seeing you fully bare for him, "so pretty..." he says, dragging a finger through your dripping folds. "I can't believe I'm the only person who has had the pleasure to touch you like this."

He hooks his middle finger into your sopping cunt, moving it at a languorous pace, careful to let you adjust to the sudden intrusion before adding his index finger. He haults the movement of his hand only momentarily when he hears you whimper. He wants you to feel nothing but pleasure from his hands.

"You're doing so well for me, my heart." he praises you, beginning to move his fingers within you again, angling them just right to hit exactly where he must to ensure you the most pleasure. He is precise in the manner that he makes sure to grind his palm against your clit too. He feels you clenching around his fingers already, and he can't help but smirk knowing that he has you close again. It's an easy task, really, you're so sensitive- so responsive to touch because of your inexperience... and not to mention he's been edging you since your last orgasm.

"Just one more, okay?" he assures you, mumbling against your skin as he trails more kisses over the back of your neck and shoulders to push you further into bliss.

He knows you're almost there, he can tell in the way you sound, moans climbing up from the back of your throat that are so beautifully sinful to listen to, the way your thighs tremble and threaten to squeeze around his hand, the way you try to arch your back away from his chest-

He keeps you locked in place with his free hand. He keeps the same pace with his occupied hand, not daring to change a single thing about the way he is touching you because consistency is key. Another groan of arousal leaves him when you come undone from his fingers alone, his pupils practically dilating from the sight of you soaking his lap as you come, your body trembling from the intensity of it all as you tumble over the edge.

"Good girl, shh it's okay, you're okay..." he says, coaxing you through your second orgasm of the night, that appeared to be much stronger than the first. That much is clear from the mess you made and your cries of pleasure that only get increasingly louder. He works you through it with a slow pace, not stilling his fingers once until you have come down from your high, and you're no longer trembling.

Halsin removes his hand from your drenched pussy when your body goes slack against his chest, eagerly licking the arousal from his fingers. Your eyes go wide at the sight, face flushing in embarrassment, "Halsin, stop that... that's so-" you start to say, but he cuts you off.

"What?" he says, "dirty? gross? no. you taste delicious. on another night I shall have to taste you directly from the source, but for now... I cannot hold myself back any longer from fucking that pretty pussy of yours."

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