#But god I don’t know what to do with my life. I don’t know how to tell people I’m hurting beyond belief. I’m falling back into a spiral I

[likeumeanit9497]

like a pornstar | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: when y/n, chris' best friend, confesses that she has never finished during sex, he decides to change that

warnings: smut; oral (fem receiving); unprotected p in v; dirty talk; established friendship; squirting; 18+

notes: back again with a friends with benefits smut (shh im manifesting). i hope the chris girlies enjoy, and matt girlies don't worry my next one shot is for u ;) love y'all <33333

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

“Hey! You’re gonna eat all the popcorn! Give me some.” I exclaimed before snatching the half eaten bag of popcorn from Chris’ grasp. He tried to say something in a rebuttal, but all he got through his mouthful of popcorn was garbled words and a slight spray of kernels. “Oh god, you’re foul.” I said jokingly before wrapping my leg around his to lighten my words. “Just hush, I can’t hear the show.”

Chris and I had been best friends since elementary school, and had always had a bond like no other. When he had moved out to California a few years ago, I had really struggled with the loss of seeing him practically everyday. But since then, I had been able to come out and visit him multiple times, and it was so exciting to have him show me the new life that him and his brothers had built for themselves on the other side of the country.

In the past, each time I had visited him in Los Angeles the weather had been amazing, so I had forced Chris to explore all over the city with me. However, this visit had been nothing but rain, so him and I had done little more than what we were doing right now: curling up under the covers with some snacks and a couple joints, binge watching all of our favourite shows from high school. We were currently re-watching Euphoria — one of my all time favourite shows — as a light trickle of rain acted as background noise.

As we worked through our snacks, the scene where Maddy and Nate’s relationship dynamic is described played. I popped a handful of popcorn in my mouth, relishing in the nostalgic feeling that the show brought me, as the scene continued on to describe how Maddy watched porn to study how she should look and sound during sex. As the character arched her back on her bed, her eyes plastered to a device playing porn, I let out a small chuckle.

“What?” Chris turned to me with a confused smile. “Nothing. It’s nothing.” I replied, shaking my head and shoving more popcorn into my mouth to stifle my ridiculous laughter. “Brooo, tell me.” He whined, grabbing my shoulder and shaking it jokingly. I rolled my eyes at his dramatics. “Oh my god, fine! I was just laughing because I used to do that.” I finally responded, and Chris turned to me and raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Wait, what?” He brought a fistful of candy to his mouth. “I used to study porn too, not to get off on it or anything, just to like know what I was supposed to do.” I admitted, feeling my cheeks grow warm as Chris just stared blankly at me.

Finally, Chris blinked a few times, pulling himself out of his blank stare to resume eating snacks. “I don’t understand that honestly,” He began, reaching his hand into the popcorn bag between my legs, “I feel like when you’re in the moment all of those sounds and movements and stuff come naturally, don’t they?” I shrugged before responding. “Not for me, to be honest. I’ve never really had any sort of sexual interaction that made me feel good enough to act and sound like a porn star.” I chuckled, keeping the conversation lighthearted. This wasn’t the first time Chris and I had talked about our sexual experiences, so I felt comfortable being honest with him.

But when I fixed my gaze back onto him, I was met with a confused expression. “So does that mean you’ve never…” He dragged out his sentence, seemingly too afraid to complete it, so I saved him the trouble and answered his unfinished question with a solemn shake of my head. At this, his eyebrows shot up in what seemed to be total shock, complete with a dropped jaw. “You’re not serious, Y/n.” He said simply, and I once again shrugged my shoulders. “I mean it’s pretty common for girls to not be able to finish during sex, you know that.” I replied, to which he titled his head to the side and looked off into the distance.

“I guess so, but I’ve personally never ran into that problem before.” He replied, a cheeky smile taking over his face, and I rolled my eyes. “Oh Jesus, well too bad not all men are the Christopher Sturniolo.” I joked, unintentionally stroking his ego before refocusing my gaze on the show. The room was silent for a brief moment, both of us back to watching the show, before Chris spoke up again. “I just think that’s really fucked up. Sex should make both people involved feel good.” I wrapped my leg tighter around his. “Well aren’t you a crowd pleaser.” I joked. Turning to once again face him, I was expecting to be met with his classic grin. But instead, his face was serious; his mouth was set in a straight line and his blue eyes had darkened.

His expression was one I rarely saw, but it made my stomach tighten subconsciously. My throat suddenly felt extremely dry, and I couldn’t speak. My breath hitched when Chris brought a hand under the covers and placed it gently on my bare thigh, rubbing small circles into the skin. And my head began to spin when he shifted his body so that he was completely facing me. “You know, I bet I could make you sound like a porn star.” His poker face was finally replaced with a smirk, this one much more sinister than the one that I usually saw cross his face. He used his hand on my thigh to guide my legs open before brushing a finger just barely against my clothed heat; causing me to gasp. He leaned closer to my frame, already quivering in anticipation, and nibbled gently at my earlobe before whispering.

“Let me make you feel good, Y/n.”

He kept his mouth right there against my ear as he waited for a response, and I could feel his rapid breaths against my skin. My brain was in shambles, and I couldn’t make sense of what was happening. Chris and I had been best friends for so long, but not once had things turned sexual. This was completely uncharted territory for me, and I couldn’t imagine it ending well. But, his hand that was resting in between my trembling thighs and his whispered proposition had already caused my panties to grow damp, so I threw all of my sensibility away by grabbing his jaw, drawing his face to mine, and crashing my lips onto his.

Immediately, Chris worked his lips against mine. They moved in sync as his tongue slipped into my mouth with ease; dancing around my own and filling me with more desire. He brought his other hand under the covers to grab onto my other thigh, where he squeezed harshly before using his grip to pull me up on top of him. Still attacking my mouth with his, he rubbed his hands up and down my body as I straddled him, taking care to focus his attention on my more sensitive parts.

He broke the kiss briefly to pull my oversized t-shirt over my head, before taking a moment to admire my bare chest in his direct line of sight. Without hesitation, he attached his mouth to one of my tits, nibbling and swirling his tongue around my sensitive nipples; causing my body to break out in goosebumps from the sensation. After he took his time on the first, he moved his mouth onto the second, and the new contact caused me to subconsciously grind my pelvis against his thigh; eliciting a moan from me. My erotic sound caused his eyes to shoot open, looking up at my face, before he detached his mouth from my tit to speak. “Real moan?” He asked, his lips swollen, and I nodded my head before grinding my hips against him once more. “F-feels good.” I mumbled, and at that he readjusted himself so that he was sitting up against the headboard; giving me more stability.

“Then keep doing that. Wanna see you feeling good.” He replied, shifting my body so that my core could press right up against the highest point of his thigh. I didn’t hesitate long before resuming my movements, this time moving at a much faster pace; losing myself to the sheer pleasure that the friction of his pants granted me. Chris’ mouth reattached to my nipples, but his eyes never left mine as he took in all of my contorted facial expressions and soft moans. He allowed his lips to travel along my chest up to my neck, where he suckled gently before muttering. “I don’t want you to fake anything, baby, just want you to tell me when it feels good and when it doesn’t. Okay?” I nodded my head frantically, squinting my eyes from the overwhelming pleasure I was feeling.

I looked down to where my body was writhing against him, and even through my shorts and panties I had left a dark patch from my arousal against his grey sweats. Rolling my eyes to the back of my head in bliss, I had never before grown that wet during sex before. I felt my legs begin to weaken around his thigh, and an overwhelming feeling begin to bubble up inside of me. I knew it was my orgasm approaching, but I was hit with a sudden wave of nervousness that was preventing me from reaching it.

“C-Chris, I can’t,” I panted out, and his eyes were immediately on mine. “You can’t what?” He replied, gripping my ass with both hands and helping me grind myself against him. “C-can’t finish.” I replied honestly, feeling my eyes well up with frustrated tears. I had never felt this good in bed with someone before, and still, I couldn’t get myself to cum. “Hey hey, it’s okay,” Chris used his grip on me to stop my movements completely, “It’s an overwhelming feeling, it’s sometimes hard to give in to it.” He brought a hand up to my cheek and stroked it affectionately. “Lie down here.” He patted the space in the bed where I had previously been, and I obliged, resting my head against the pillow.

Once I settled myself, Chris crawled on top of me, resting his weight on one arm. He began kissing me again, this time much slower than the first, and once my heart rate began to slow I took it upon myself to deepen the kiss; pulling his bottom lip gently with my teeth. This elicited a deep moan from Chris, and I felt him grind his clothed member against my core before dragging his mouth down my jaw and neck; leaving harsh kisses in its trail. I watched through droopy eyelids as Chris’ body traveled down my own, and my breathing increased once again when he reached the waistband of my shorts. He toyed with the band for a moment, slipping two fingers under the material before looking back up at me.

“I just want you to relax, lay there, and tell me when you feel good. Can you do that Y/n?” His voice was soft, but it was the unmistakable undertone of gruff arousal laced through it that caused my stomach to flip. I nodded quickly, bringing a hand to his forehead and brushing a few stray hairs back. “Okay.” I replied, causing him to smirk before slowly pulling my shorts and thong down my legs. Once my clothing was completely discarded, Chris encouraged my knees to bend and spread my legs open; exposing my dripping heat completely. “Hmm, so pretty Y/n.” He said lowly, taking in the glistening folds just centimetres from his face.

I watched as he dropped soft kisses along my outer folds before using his hands to spread me open slightly. His mouth inched closer and closer to my aching core, and when he finally connected to it I released a shaky moan. Immediately, he used his tongue to expertly manipulate my clit, causing me to see stars almost instantly. It was clear by his movements that he knew what he was doing, and I had to grip onto his messy curls in order to keep myself in place as he continued. “Is that good baby?” He asked against my bundle of nerves, moving one of his hands from my folds down to my entrance, teasing it in circles as he waited for a response.

“S-so good Chrissy.” I managed to get out before he reattached his lips, this time slowly plunging a digit into me as he continued; causing my hips to buck. “Shh, stay still honey.” He mumbled, still working his tongue and fingers in sync against my heat. The combination of his tongue against my clit and his finger plunging up into my g-spot was staggering, and I was once again feeling the undeniable signs of an upcoming orgasm. Every inch of my skin felt like it was being set on fire, and the pressure in my lower stomach was so intense, it felt like I was going to pee.

I had reached orgasms on my own before, but none had ever had a build up as intense as the one I was currently feeling with Chris. I felt like I could explode, but still, I was struggling to let go once again. “C-Chris, I d-don’t think I — I don’t think I c-can do it.” I cried out, gripping onto his hair like my life depended on it. At this, Chris added a second finger and increased his speed. “Yes you can baby, I know you can. Just breathe and let your body do what it knows to do.” I squeezed my eyes shut from the pressure, and did as he said and released shaky breaths. His movements had the same level of intensity as before, but there was an unspoken level of desperation to them now; clear indication that he wanted to get me there.

Even though it seemed impossible, the pressure inside of me kept getting stronger and stronger. My legs were shaking on either side of his head, and my breaths came out as guttural moans. I felt my body detach from my brain, and I knew I had lost all control over what was going to happen. Just then, the strongest orgasm I had ever felt completely engulfed me, and I could do nothing but cry out in pleasure. My back arched off of the bed, overwhelmed by the extreme sensation. Feverish, strings of erotic notes fell from my mouth, and they could barely be heard over the ringing in my ears.

Mouth agape, I watched in awe as the pressure in my stomach was finally relieved by a rush of fluid shooting from my core. At this, Chris murmured “Oh fuck.” before detaching his lips from my clit and swiftly rubbing it; spraying my fluid all over his face and exposed tongue. My orgasm rippled through me like a tsunami, and left me in a figurative and literal puddle once it died down. Once he drank up all my juices, Chris planted a soft kiss against my clit before dragging his body up mine.

Once he was face to face with me, he gave me a deep kiss. “How was that?” He whispered with a grin on his wet face. Still catching my breath, all I could do was nod. He played with my hair for a moment, tranquility clear on his face, before he suddenly shifted his weight and began climbing off of me. “W-wait.” I said, grabbing hold of his waistband and stopping his movements. He looked down at me with a confused expression, and I wordlessly moved my hand to his crotch, where I was met with what seemed like a painfully hard member. “You’re not gonna fuck me?” I asked, batting my eyelashes innocently as I watched his taken aback expression.

In the blink of an eye, his face darkened once again and he returned to his position above me. “You want me to?” He asked, his face buried in my neck where he peppered it with soft kisses. “Mhmm.” I hummed, using my hand to palm him through his sweats. At that, Chris didn’t hesitate to pull his pants down, leaving his cock exposed. I gasped at its size that had been somewhat disguised when it was still concealed in his sweats, but began pumping my hand up and down as he shuddered in pleasure.

Attaching his lips back onto mine, Chris grabbed onto his shaft and lined it up with my opening. He slid it up and down my folds a few times to collect whatever was left of my previous orgasm, before slowly sliding into me. I gasped at the feeling of my walls stretching around his impressive girth, and we both moaned in unison once he bottomed out. He stayed still for a moment, allowing me to adjust to him, before he began slamming his hips into me.

With his forehead resting against mine, he watched me as I contorted my face into expressions of pleasure, relishing in the feeling of being filled by him. His gruff breathing and occasional deep moans were like music to my ears, and I dug my nails into his bare shoulders to keep him close. “Fuck, your pussy feels so good around me. Not gonna last long.” He groaned, using one of his arms to wrap my leg around his waist. The new angle allowed him to go deeper, and I felt his member slam into my g-spot repeatedly; causing my stomach to fill with that familiar sensation. “Oh god Chris, you’re s-so big.” My voice was coming out squeaky as he continued to pound into me, and he released a harsh moan in response.

I lost myself in the waves of pleasure as they hit me, growing closer to my second orgasm with each of his powerful thrusts. Chris’ gaze on me was so full of lust — clenched jaw, droopy eyes, lower lip trapped in between his teeth — I would have collapsed from its magnitude if I wasn’t already lying down. His motion suddenly shifted from one that was hard and fast to one that was deep and slow, and I couldn’t help but release sharp gasps on each thrusts.

I could tell that I was close to my second orgasm, but he was closer. His breathing was growing more and more rapid, his pace was sloppier, and beads of sweat were dripping down his forehead. As if he was reading my mind, he moaned out. “I-I’m close, want you to cum with me.” My eyes rolled to the back of my head, his words already getting me closer to my high, but I knew I needed to get there faster.

Reaching between us, I found my clit and began rubbing it vigorously. Chris’ eyes followed my hand, and when he realized what I was doing he smirked proudly. “Atta girl.” My action seemed to give him a bit more energy, as his movements began picking up the pace once again; and I found myself on the edge of another orgasm. “Ah fuck, Chris, gonna cum again.” I cried out through my gasps for air just before my second orgasm hit me like a freight train. I felt my walls contract around his swollen member, and that was enough for him to reach his high as well.

Gripping tightly onto my shoulder, Chris plunged his twitching cock in and out of me; driving both of us through our orgasms. I gasped when I felt his fluid shoot deep into me, and savoured the verbal confirmation of his pleasure in my ear. Our moans flew from our mouths in harmony, and it was only once his body stilled above me that I removed my hand from my clit.

We stayed in that position for what could have been hours, catching our breath and falling into the lethargic temperament that always came after sex. Finally, Chris lifted his weight off of me and slid his softening dick out from my core, offering me an apprehensive smile. He stood up and walked into his washroom, coming back over to the bed with a towel to help clean up the mess in between my legs before doing the same to his member. Once I no longer felt like a bowl of jello, I sat up on the bed beside him.

“Well?” He asked, his tone playful as he wiggled his eyebrows awaiting my response. I rolled my eyes before grabbing my top and throwing it over my head. “Would you believe me if I said I faked all of that?” I asked, unable to keep the smile that was toying with the corners of my mouth at bay. He blew air out of his mouth and looked up at the ceiling. “Absolutely not.” He replied, and I laughed. “I hate to gas you up like this, but that really was amazing.” I finally said honestly, resting my head on his bare shoulder.

He chuckled before grabbing my hand and stroking it gently. “Glad to be of service.” He replied, removing his hand from mine and instead wrapping his arm around me completely. “You turned into my little porn star there for a minute.” He followed it up by making high pitched moan sounds, mocking me and breaking the wave of silence that had followed his last comment. I laughed, lifting my head off of his shoulder and coming face-to-face with his goofy smile. “You ever use that against me in the future and I will bite your head off.” I replied, shoving his shoulder gently. “I won’t, swear. But you can use me again in the future if you wish. Y’know, in case you ever want to cum like that again.”

My jaw dropped at his filthy words, but I couldn’t help but feel heat flood to my core once again. Smirking, I raised one quizzical eyebrow. “One more?” I asked, and watched as his face was overtaken by a smirk that mirrored my own. “Lay down and put your legs on my shoulders.”

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

[arafilez]

੭୧ ⼂ PRINCESS ﹗

ー☆ㅤㅤ [ lmh x fem!reader ] ㅤ੭𓂃 ㅤfluff 𓏧 being your enemy’s passenger princess is a dream that he likes it as much as you do ㅤ warnings drunk reader ㅤ ﹢ㅤ 0.8k wc

“Why am I her emergency contact?” your friend’s boyfriend cowers under his pointed gaze and hastily explains how you did not have an emergency contact so he just dialled your most recent call. Halfway through that explanation your friend drunkenly starts kissing her boyfriend making that the cue for them to leave.

Minho looks at you, who has been suspiciously quiet the whole time before he sighs, accepting his fate and drags you to his car. His glares do nothing to soothe the ache in his heart as he softly places you down on the passenger seat and carefully tucks your legs in before attaching the seatbelt.

Closing the door, he moves to the other side, sets himself down on the driver’s seat and puts in your house location. As soon as he starts the car you mutter your first sentence for the night, “You really came.”

“Yes, you called me so,” he reasons, more to himself than with you, hating the pang in his heart formed at the thought of what if you had called someone else and not him. God, he would have hated it!

You giggle under the influence saying, “Do you know how many times I have dreamed of being your passenger princess?” His heart flutters at the sound of your light laugh filling the car making him bite back a smile as he asks, “Why?”

“Because you look hot driving,” your blatant voice makes him choke on air as he feels his face getting hotter at the compliment. Minho tries to focus on the road and less on his thumping heart as you continue blabbering, “I am so cliché, I like my enemy.” After a short breath you continue, “Will you tease me about this tomorrow? Well, that’s okay, I will just make myself believe.”

When you suddenly stop his eyes widen and he hastily asks before he can stop himself, “Believe what?”

“That you tease me because you like me, like those book-boys,” your eyes fix on his face and it takes him all his self-control to not look at you or he knows he will straight up crash.

“Passenger princess huh? You like being that?” he quickly changes the topic as the air around him gets hotter. He makes a mental note to get his car's air conditioner checked. Maybe it is malfunctioning.

You nod lightly, eyes hazily fixed on him, making him grip the steering wheel as if his life depended on it and say, “You always call me that to tease me, the joke’s on you, girls love being called a ‘princess’.”

“Do you now?” the teasing edge returns to his voice, his cocky demeanour coming back instantly. “Most do,” you say softly and add, “I would hate it so much if you called someone else that though.” Minho doesn’t know how he kept his sanity after that sentence leaves he knows but he somehow brings you to your apartment and stands in front of the door.

“Password,” he asks, making you giggle and flirtingly pointing at his chest, “To your heart?”

“To your home,” he deadpans but can’t help a lovesick smile take over his face as he watches you cutely stumble to put it in. The low light of the hallway accentuates your features and he finds himself blaming the high of the night for wanting to grab your face and kiss you right then and there.

When the door finally unlocks he carefully holds you and walks inside as he finds himself spilling, “You don’t need to worry about the heart you have already got that unlocked.”

“Have I?” your eyes widen in anticipation as you sling your arms around his neck looking up at him and Minho swears he never saw as many stars in the night sky as he did in your eyes that night.

“Yes, the day I realised you were borderline tolerable, I knew I was screwed,” he whispers back, eyes fleeting between your lips and your eyes before he sighs panting lightly. He somehow makes you drink a glass of water and you plop down on the bed, pulling you with him but he stays upright making you pout. Mustering all his self-control he goes to find a change of clothes in your closet.

He waits outside patiently and after what feels like almost twenty minutes he hears the door unlock as he enters, your hair is ruffled, and your face is puffy and warm from all the alcohol yet Minho finds himself fighting all his demons to not press his lips to yours.

When you finally plop down on the bed he pulls up the duvet to your chin and sighs saying, “I find drunk confessions awful, but I am here swooning over shit like this, so yes, I am stupidly in love with you, I guess.” Your eyes light up even in the haze of alcohol and sleep overtaking your features and he finds himself resisting to kiss you for the third time that night.

“Remember it till morning, for me,” he whispers to you lightly and prays silently that you will, before turning off the lights and saying one last sentence, “Sleep, my princess.”

ー☆ㅤㅤ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ੭𓂃ㅤ okay but to be minho's passenger princess asfsjsjejsl (divider my me) ㅤ𓏧ㅤ libraryㅤ skz shelfㅤ navi

੭ 𝅄ㅤ ꒰ TAGLIST ꒱ ㅤ⏤ㅤ @haneagerr @sxmmerberries (beta) ㅤ𓏧ㅤ fill this or comment or ask to be added

ㅤㅤ(ㅤㅤ© arafilez on tumblrㅤㅤ)

[motelofmermaids]

sex worker reader ♡︎ kurt matheson headcanons (+18)

— this has been marinating in my drafts & i needed to share it with y’all omg. i ♥︎ this so much. i ♥︎ kurt so much. i hope y’all love this too!

ᡣ𐭩 kurt matheson who first saw you standing on the side of the street with three other women—harsh, cold winds making your too-short of a dress flow. you looked so alone, so helpless… nothing like the other women. if anything, you looked like an angel that had fell from the dark and melancholic sky.

ᡣ𐭩 kurt matheson who walked up to you because johnny told him he should. ‘you haven’t had a good fuck in how long?’ johnny asked him, looming behind kurt as his boots dragged against the eroded and dirty streets.

ᡣ𐭩 kurt matheson who noticed the way your eyes stayed downcast once he made it to your small group, assuming that you were probably never first-pick. he noticed the way your eyes lit up when he asked about you, that your eyebrows raised & lips parted in surprise.

ᡣ𐭩 kurt matheson who felt like he understood you. that you should be seen—and not just because of your beauty, no—because you had such a gentle & kind soul. you didn’t seem to judge him, didn’t ask too many questions when he took you home… saw him as a human, not a victim or crazy.

ᡣ𐭩 kurt matheson who let you get comfortable first, offering you something to drink or snack on. he noticed the way you turned your head away to smile, all soft and warm. he noticed the way you looked around, eyes big—curious.

ᡣ𐭩 kurt matheson who wanted to impress you. you were so pretty, so full of life in this godforsaken world—filled with war, coming to an end, and no one was here to stop it. he thought that maybe, just maybe, you were some kind of sign from god that there was still softness. that he could experience something soft and sweet before he was sentenced to eternal imprisonment.

“do you want to see something?” you turn your head, watching him walk across his small living space. opening a door, kurt nods his head towards the thing you can’t quite see, a silent demand to come closer—to look. you tiptoed across the room gently, like a fawn curious of the world. “a bunker?” you ask softly, biting down softly on your plump bottom lip. “don’t be scared,” he starts quietly, his hand hesitating before pressing against your back, featherlight. “i’m sorry… i don’t want to scare you.” and you shake your head quickly, giggling quietly as you take the initiative to climb down the bunker. “it’s cute! spacious. you got a lot of things to keep you busy.” you sit down on the small bed, smiling up at him.

𝜗𝜚 kurt matheson who is hesitant, doesn’t know what to do with himself. with someone so beautiful. his rough, tainted fingers gently trace along your features. he looks down at you as you flutter your eyelashes, leaning in to the feeling.

𝜗𝜚 kurt matheson who thumbs at your bottom lip—loving the sight. the feeling. the thrill that climbs up his back and reaches around to fist his heart. he missed human touch, craved it, wanted to selfishly keep anything familiar close—let johnny haunt him.

𝜗𝜚 kurt matheson who gets on his knees, spreading your legs slowly—allowing him to savor every touch, breath, heartbeat. as if the world wasn’t ending, as if there wasn’t a clock ticking. he let his hands trail all over the fabric, your bare skin. he didn’t want to undress you yet, kurt just needed to feel.

𝜗𝜚 kurt matheson who nearly loses his mind when your breaths start getting short and heavy, when you begin to part your legs further. he finally undresses you, lets your desperately shaky hands claw at his clothes to remove his.

𝜗𝜚 kurt matheson who kisses like he cannot breathe without you. he’s so eager, hands holding your head to keep you close. he kisses you until you can’t think—your thighs pressed tightly against each other because you were so wet. you felt light headed when he finally pulled away, your lips glossed over with shared saliva.

𝜗𝜚 kurt matheson who doesn’t stop at your lips, kissing down your body. he kisses your pretty clit, your folds, your inner thighs. he kisses you until he isn’t, and instead devouring you.

𝜗𝜚 kurt matheson who makes you orgasm multiple times with just his mouth and fingers—and you know he isn’t done, not with the way he looks at you. he leaves you on the verge of tears, your heat glistening with his spit. you twitch and squirm when his beard scruff tickles at your skin. it makes kurt smile. at least he’s taking you in a bunker, your noises becoming humiliatingly loud… fast.

𝜗𝜚 kurt matheson who is big. he’s on top of you, your legs tangled against each other’s bodies. he’s staring down at you, so intensely, as he bottoms out inside your slick & inviting cunt. his lips ghost over your cheek, your forehead, your nose. he’s fucking you with an intense fervor, your eyes glossed over as you look up at him. you grip at any part of him you can, one thigh hiked up to wrap around him.

𝜗𝜚 kurt matheson who doesn’t make much noise. doesn’t talk, but when he moans it’s so mind bending. forces your own, sweet noises out of your mouth. heavy breathing fills the bunker, gasps stolen from one another. it’s almost too much for you. almost.

𝜗𝜚 kurt matheson who doesn’t pull out. he fucks you until he’s left himself weak, weight pressing down on you. it doesn’t matter to you, though. you craved it. you craved the fantasy of being a mom in a beautiful, blue-skied world—the regret itching at you during the final days.

ᡣ𐭩 kurt matheson who cleans you off, your pliant body resting comfortably against the bed—making no effort to toss you money & rush you out of his space.

ᡣ𐭩 kurt matheson who holds you, his fingers gently tracing circles into your shoulder as he keeps you close. he likes the way you smell, love how it’ll stay in the bunker for at least a week. he lets you talk, tell him stories as he tiredly nods, enraptured by every word that leaves your pretty lips.

ᡣ𐭩 kurt matheson who decides that he wants you to stay. wants you to live with him in his bunker—afraid of losing this, of losing you & letting you die the same way he let johnny die. he’s afraid, but he knows how you made him feel… and he finally wants to be selfish. for both your sakes. so he cuts you off mid-story, the question lingering in the post-glow air.

+ you say yes…

[chukys-mouthguard]

#3, a little angst that ends with fluff, for Mat Barzal

Prompt: “I wish you were here with me.”

Note: I don’t know if my brain will ever fully get used to spelling his name with one ‘t’…but like that’s such a mat barzal thing idk why that’s so him in my opinion 😂

“Yeah it was a pretty fun day, I’m exhausted though. I don’t think I’ll be able to get out of bed in the morning.” 

Mat finally finished telling you all about the fun he had at the skills competition. The guest celebrities he got to meet, the freebies that brands were gifting out to the players. Though you knew he wasn’t bragging, it still hurt your feelings hearing how much fun he was having. 

You were supposed to go with him for the All Star Game, but something came up with work and you were forced to stay home. He knew how much you were looking forward to going, and of course you were proud of him for getting picked, you missed not being able to celebrate moments like this along with him. 

“Yeah, sounds like you had quite a fun day babe.” 

Mat could hear the bit of disappointment lacing your words as you sighed into the phone. He felt bad for bragging, but he was just so excited to tell you about his day that he’d neglected to sympathize with how you were still upset. 

“I wish you were here with me.” 

His words coming out a bit like an afterthought as he tried to cheer you up, only to make you more frustrated. 

“I’m sure you do, though it sounds like you had a great day without me. Meeting celebrities, getting tons of freebies from brands, hanging out with the guys. Definitely sounds like you were missing me Mat. But don’t worry because I’m sure we will make plans for me to come with you to the awards in Vegas, or overseas for some upcoming tournament, or god knows what else. But, per usual something will come up and I won’t be able to join you and support you.” 

Mat remained silent on his end of the phone call, letting you vent and say whatever you needed to. These frustrations being something you’d had for awhile. Your job unfortunately not always being one to let you miss work, especially when you had important deadlines or projects that needed done. 

“Well, I meant what I said…but I’m sorry you don’t think so.” 

He didn’t mean to say anything snarky back to you, but it just slipped out. He was frustrated that you felt like he didn’t want you there to experience these things with him. 

“Mat, I didn’t say that. I just, I want to support you. To be there to experience all these achievements and special moments. But it’s like I can never catch a break with work. And I feel like I’m not being the best girlfriend I can be if I can’t even have a weekend to fly out and see you in an all star game like every other girlfriend or wife can.” 

One thing Mat was never okay with was you comparing yourself to other girlfriends or wives. Was he upset that you felt he was insincere wishing you were there, sure. But he knew you were just frustrated. He would be too if he was in your shoes. But to hear you call yourself a bad girlfriend or not supportive enough, that hurt him. 

“Baby, you are the most supportive person in my life. Who gives a fuck what other girlfriends and wives do. You’re my girlfriend, and you do more than enough to support me. You refuse to stop working because you don’t want to be someone who lives off their boyfriend, and I admire the fuck out of that. Half the girls dating guys in this league aren’t like you. And that’s why I love you so much. I’m sorry for being snarky, I just, I hate that you feel like you need to be like the others. Because you’re perfect for me, just the way you are.” 

Smiling into the phone, you calmed down a bit as you needed that reassurance from Mat. He always reminded you that you were different, in the best way. And that’s why he loved you so much. 

“Now, enough about my day, tell me about this work project and how fucking amazing my boss ass girlfriend did.”

[cheeeeseburger]

Do you dream of me? (cause you're a dream to me)

Fernando Alonso x Reader

A/N: They could never make me hate you, fake dating trope. English is not my first language, apologies for the mistakes!

As soon as Fernando opened the car door for you and you stepped out, all dolled up, cameras flashed everywhere. This was a part of being Fernando’s girlfriend that you were still getting used to. Actually, you weren’t used to any things related to dating him, since in reality, you were not really together.

Fernando had asked you to be his fake girlfriend two months ago. Initially, you just laughed at him, but he was not kidding at all. He wanted to work on his PR, and a good romance story always does the trick, right?

“Please, just think about it. I’m not crazy! It would only be for show. It would be fake dating.” You were impressed at his romcom knowledge. He definitely knew the literature, to use words like fake dating. Still, that was not enough to convince you.

The thing is, Fernando was your boss. You had been his assistant for over two years now, and he knew you were single and available. Saying no to his proposal would put you in a difficult situation. It’s not like the whole fake dating thing would only benefit him, though. The more you thought about it, the more you wanted to accept.

“You would only have to come to a few events with me, which you already come to as my assistant! You would just have to pretend we’re together. Of course, you would receive compensation for your services.” Fernando said. He did not get why you suddenly gasped.

“I was about to say yes, but I’m not a hooker or an escort, Fernando! How dare you suggest these things to me?” Frankly, you were insulted. He answered immediately, panicked: “No, that’s not what I meant, of course not! I just meant that since you’re going to, um, work extra, I will pay you more, that’s all. You’re too much of a good girl for all of that, anyway.”

Goddamn. You blushed intensely. You would definitely be a good girl for him, if you were actually dating. Oops.

“Wait, didn’t you say you were going to say yes?” Damn him for actually listening to you.

You blushed a little: “I mean, it’s just that I have, let’s say, a situation, that could be fixed if we publicly dated…” You looked away, embarrassed.

“What is it, muñeca?” He genuinely looked concerned for you. He really was a caring boss, huh?

“It’s just that, um, there’s this guy…” You did not want to continue the rest of the sentence. You were the colour of a ripe tomato.

“And you want to make him jealous?” He raised an eyebrow. Oh wow. Has he watched Anyone But You on a flight recently or something?

“Oh God no, absolutely not! It’s the opposite, really. I went on one date with him, and he can’t get a hint. He always comes tries to talk to me, even though I told him multiple times that I was no longer interested. He’s an engineer at Ferrari, so he’s always around. It’s getting scary.” Telling your boss your horror dating stories was really, really embarrassing.

“What? That’s not okay!” He looked pissed. “Muñeca, this is not right. You should have told me. I could have fixed the issue. I would have helped you.”

You flushed. It was cute to see your boss so worried about you. “Anyway, that’s why I’m tempted to say yes to be your fake girlfriend. Maybe that other guy will back off.”

“I didn’t know you went on dates. You’re always busy helping me.” He crossed his arms on his chest.

“Well, he’s always around since he works in F1. He just asked me out and I said yes.” You were avoiding his gaze, afraid of being in trouble for some reason.

“Why didn’t it work out?” Ok, now you were definitely looking everywhere but at him. The real reason was too humiliating too say out loud. Why did he care anyway?

“It’s not a big deal, don’t worry about it.” He noticed you were mortified but did not pick up on it. You sighed: “I think we should do it. But I’m still going to have my job after, right?”

“Of course, muñeca. You’re too essential in my life for me to let you go.” Apparently, he was not above flattery to convince you. Apparently, flattery was a great way to bribe you.

“It’s a deal, then.” You shook Fernando’s hand. You immediately shivered at his touch.

“You’re mi amorcito now.”

Oh God. What did you get yourself into?

Anyway, you felt Fernando’s hand on your back, softly guiding you towards the entrance of the party at a high-end hotel. As usual when there were cameras around, you put on a show. Your performance was Oscar worthy. He spun you around so people could admire your look. You blew him a kiss. You leaned on him while he put an arm around you. He kissed the top of your head, and you whispered in his ear.

“I think we’ve really fooled them.”

“It’s good, but it’s only the beginning. I’m not done with you, muñeca.”

To anybody on the outside, you two looked like the hot, exciting, and loving couple of the moment. Sometimes, it looked that way to you too. It was hard to remember that this was not real when he kissed you, or when you were in his arms, or just when you were with him in general. Playing pretend with him was so easy. It was fun, even. You were getting showered in gifts and kisses by your boss, who just happens to be a man you find really attractive. You could have dne worst for a side hustle, right?

The media was having a field day with your relationship. Some thought the age gap was a bit weird, but most people just thought that it was cute that Alonso fell in love with his assistant. You had even seen a TikTok edit of you two. You looked hot in it, so that was nice. You were the it WAG of the moment.

The other drivers were also freaking out that Alonso, a long-time bachelor, had finally met his match. You had to act extra lovingly in front of them, just to prove to them that he had finally settled. Also, Fernando just liked to show off a pretty young thing like you in his arms, because the rest of the grid was definitely jealous.

You made you way inside, making sure to always close the gap between you and Fernando. You were constantly flushed, because him touching you did wonders for your nerves. Small talk was hard, but it was even more difficult to do with his arm around your waist. You pulled on his arm.

“Fernando, baby, I need a drink.” The word baby slipped off a little too casually for your liking. He seemed to like it though, because you felt his possessive grip at the nicknamed. He smiled, pleased.

“Alright, amorcito. What do you want?” He led you to the bar, the crowd letting him pass easily. This was another advantage of dating an F1 driver. Also, he always paid for all your drinks, which is an added bonus, right? You needed a drink to survive the night anyway.

“I want to get drunk. Not passed out drunk, but drunk enough that there is a risk that I will get up to dance on a table.” He laughed at that, and you smiled him. The urge to kiss him was strong. Technically, you could do it, since you were in a public place with people watching your every movement. So far, you had always let him kiss you first, because you were simply too shy. Anytime you felt his lips on yours, forgetting that this was not real was way too easy.

“I would want to see that, muñeca.” The music was loud, and he spoke in your ear. You shivered. Oh yes, more than one drink would be needed. “I’ll have a whiskey sour, and a cosmo for the lady,” Fernando said at the bartender. It was cute that he remembered your drink of choice. But you needed more than a Cosmo to ease your nerves right now. Forget about being classy.

“I’ll have three tequila shots as well, please.” You nearly had to shout for the bartender to hear you. Fernando looked surprised.

“You were not kidding, huh?”

“I won’t embarrass you by being too drunk, I swear. But it’s just that there are so many people here, and I’m kind of nervous.” He put your hand in his and started to draw circles on it with his thumb.

“It’s okay, mi armorcito. These people are not important. The only thing that matters is you and me. I want you to have a good time, muñeca.” You softened at his words. Even though you had not gotten you shots yet, you managed to have enough courage to finally kiss him. He was surprised at first, but he quickly recovered and pulled you closer to him. You pulled away, blushing, but only because the bartender put your drinks in front of you. He smiled at you and his gaze lingered on your mouth.

You drank your shots back-to-back without even making a face. “That’s a good girl,” said Fernando, sipping his whiskey. He knew what he was doing. The alcohol hadn’t even kicked in yet, but you were feeling bolder already.

“Are you into good girls, boss?” You drank innocently from your Cosmo, batting your eyelashes. It was his turn to get flushed. Maybe he had a thing for authority?

“When they look like you, sure. And you’re always so good to me, taking care of my every need. Well, almost.” He winked at you. Surely, the few sips of his drink were not enough to get him to say things like that purely because of the alcohol. Was this really coming from him? It was a delicious thought, almost as delicious as your Cosmo.

“I know this is fake, but baby, if it wasn’t, I would fulfill your every needs. And I mean, all your needs, boss.” You put your hand on his arm to really send the message. The tequila had finally hit your system. His desire for you was obvious in his eyes.

“Amorcito, you would be my favourite assistant of all time, for sure. I would never let you go.” He pulled you close to him, with his hands around your waist. He was looking at you so intensely that it almost felt like love.

You let yourself daydream. “Nobody could say a thing, because pleasing your boss is the goal of being an assistant, right?”

“Exactly, muñeca. But since they don’t know that this is fake, they couldn’t say anything if, let say, they caught us?” He smirked at you, softly brushing the loose stands of hair away from your face

Oh, you knew were this was getting, but the alcohol in your blood and his handsome face were telling you to go along.

“Absolutely, baby. I bet you’d like it, too.” You finished your drink and ordered another shot.

“What, if we were caught?” He nearly choked out his whiskey sour.

“Yeah. Wouldn’t you like it if someone was to walk in on you having me on your desk? If people heard me screaming your name?” The look on his face was priceless. Toying with him was fun. 

He leaned to whisper in your ear: “Don’t give me ideas, amorcito.” He lingered there for a moment, breathing against your neck. You were breathing rapidly. If you only tilted your head a bit, your lips would be near his. It was tempting, so you did it. As he went in for the kiss, you suddenly pulled away, then downed your last shot. You were not done playing with him.

“I want to dance. Come on!” You pulled on his arm, and Fernando had no choice but to follow you on the dance floor.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜

He was a surprisingly a good dancer. It must be the Spanish in him. He made you feel hot all over. You left the dancefloor feeling very turned on and with a few new hickeys on your neck as a bonus. This happened all the time in fake dating movies, right? You had not broken any rule.

Fernand pulled you to the bar to get something to drink. Things were not PG anymore. His hand was on your ass to guide you instead of on your waist like it was earlier.

“Do you want another Cosmo, muñeca?” You shook your head.

“No baby, I want to get a special treat. Can I please have a sex on the beach?”

He raised an eyebrow at your request, but he still passed it along to the bartender with another whiskey for him. He was not nearly as drunk as you were, so he had no excuse regarding crossing the line between what is real and what is fake.

“You know, amorcito, I could give you the real thing,” he said to you as he passed you your drink.

“What, sex on the beach? I already did that,” you answered, laughing. He looked positively shocked.

“An innocent girl like you? I don’t believe it.” He also didn’t want it to be true.

You smirked. “You remember that the reason I accepted to date you was to get rid of a guy that was like, obsessed with me?” He nodded, wanting to hear where this was going.

“Well, the reason why he can’t get enough of me is because I rocked his world on a beach!” You looked away, embarrassed even with all the alcohol you had consumed. He put his hand under your chin to force you to look at him.

“Muñeca, is this for real? That’s why he won’t leave you alone? He was not happy.

“Yes! But I don’t want anything to do with this guy. He didn’t even make me finish,” you whined. Fernando brushed your lower lip with his thumb. Somehow, you just knew that if it was him instead of that engineer, you would have come. Multiple times, for sure.

“Poor amorito.” He caressed your hair with his free hand. “You know I would never do that to you, right?” You chuckled lightly.

“Oh, I know.” You whispered in his ear: “I had a sex dream about you once.” This was a lie. You had multiple dreams where he had rocked your world. In multiple ways.

You started to give him a few kisses underneath his ear, in that spot that you knew he liked. He grabbed your ass to bring you closer to him.

“What? Amorcito, you must tell me how it was.” He was getting overwhelmed by your confession and the trail of kisses you left on his neck. You just laughed against his throat.

“Baby, I don’t dream and tell.” First of all, you could not believe you had actually told him you dreamed of him. No way in hell would you reveal the fantasy you had of him. He was still your boss!

But Fernando really, really wanted to know. He spun you so your back was against the bar and held you by your wrists. He got centimeters away from your face. “You will this time, muñeca.”

Ok, so he was not playing around anymore. Does the fact that this was the hottest thing you had ever seen in your life says a lot about you? About your relationship with your dad?

“You have to promise me you won’t mock me, okay?” You were suddenly shy. Maybe you should have ordered another sex on the beach. Wait, no. All of this started because of a stupid sex on the beach. A tequila sunrise would have to do next time.

He kissed your cheek and slowly moved to your jaw. “I promise, amorcito. Just tell me, please. I have to know.” A man begging was always a sight to see.

“Okay, baby. I’ll tell you.” Just thinking about it made you feel hot all over. “In my dream, we were in Monaco. You had parked your car, the green Aston Martin, and… You were fucking me against it. But I mean, really fucking me.” You were blushing, but he was the one who had turned scarlet. You continued: “Remember, this is a dream, okay? A paparazzi took a picture of you, um, having me against your car, and it was all over the medias. But we didn’t care, in fact, you printed and framed the picture, and you hung it in your living room in Monaco. And we fucked again in front of it. That’s it.”

Okay, that wasn’t so bad. Your face was heating up, and you were worried since Fernando hadn’t said anything yet. Had you gone too far? You could always blame it on the alcohol. One thing for sure, you had definitely crossed the line of fake dating.

“Eres el sueño de mi vida, amorcito.” Fernando pulled you close to his body to lead you to a dark corner of the room. He pushed you against the wall and he was immediately all over you. You couldn’t help but moan when you felt him palming you.

“Fernando, baby, is this still us fake dating?” He answered between two hickeys on your neck.

“None of this is fake, muñeca. It never was.” His lips crashed on yours. It just felt so good to really have him, without pretending. You had to remember you were in a public place, otherwise your dress would have been on the floor ages ago.

“I swear I’m going to start screaming your name soon, baby. I need you so bad. Can we please go back to the hotel?” He smiled at your eagerness.

“As much as I would like everyone to hear you, including the other drivers, I think we better leave, amorcito.” He reluctantly pulled away to grab your hand.

“Don’t worry baby, the Monaco GP is in two weeks, everyone will hear me and see me screaming your name there,” You winked at him and pulled him outside of the party.

You clearly had an eye for design, because the picture of you two really did look great in the apartment you shared in Monaco.

[robilover]

I have this urge of Power!Bottom Reader x Dom Robin, gonna make tease the lil birdie like crazy

MMM POWER BOTTOM READER WITH DOM ROBIN? 😍😍

pairing(s): dom!robin x powerbottom!fem!reader

cw: a bit rushed, fingering (reader receiving), slight overstimulation, begging, petnames used, men and homophobes dni.

nsfw under the cut! read at your own risk.

goddd imagine being on robin’s lap as she’s kissing you so eagerly and desperately whilst stuffing you deep with two of her fingers. she’s swallowing up your moans, your hand in her hair as she thrusts her fingers deep inside you at a fast pace.

she breaks the kiss to press a trail of hot, wet kisses all over your neck and effortlessly finds your sensitive spot, wanting to hear more of your moans.

“f-faster,” you tell her, followed by a moan. she obeys you with a giggle.

“can I please add a third finger, baby?” she asks so politely while moving her fingers faster inside you. you groaned at her question as you looked at her, seeing how she looked at you with a soft smile.

“I want to hear you beg first, my pretty songbird.” you teasingly said. robin slightly pouted as she nibbled on your neck.

“please, baby. let me add a third finger. want to make you cum on my fingers faster.” she begged with a soft voice. you couldn’t help but cave in directly as you moaned in desperation.

“yes— god, o-okay, yes, you can add a third finger, robin.”

upon hearing your affirmation, she immediately adds a third finger with a soft whimper, hearing you moan her name so loudly and feeling how your walls were clenching onto her fingers as if their life depended on it. she hissed at the delicious feeling as she nibbled on your neck, her fingers continuing their assault in your pussy.

“a-ah— faster, mm, I’m close..” you warned her. robin did not hesitate to do as she was told. she wanted to give you the best orgasm she could give you using her fingers.

“give it to me, baby. be a good girl and cum on my fingers. make a mess, sweetheart.” she whispered into your ear and curled her fingers inside you. you couldn’t help but whimper loudly at her voice and when she curled her fingers.

“robin, I’m gonna— m-mmmgrfh— gonna cum..!”

after a few more thrusts, you came undone on her fingers with a loud moan of her name. she moaned with you, her fingers still moving fast inside you. you were getting overstimulated and you didn’t think that she wouldn’t stop.

“w-wait, robin— a-ah! t-too much..!” you whined as you tried to push her, only to fail as you were a whimpering and whiny mess.

“just one more, love. you can handle one more, can’t you? I’ll make you feel even better.” robin cooed, her voice teasing yet gentle as she continued to move her fingers so deeply inside you that you could already feel her hitting that one spot that made you see stars.

you trembled on her lap as your free hand went its way to her back, your nails digging into her back. she hissed at the slight pain, but she didn’t mind one bit. she wouldn’t mind the marks you’d give her on her back so people would know who she belongs to. she reveled in the way you were such a mess for her, and she was, too.

as soon as she felt you tightening around her fingers again after some fast thrusts, she smirked. she knew you were close again as your moans got louder.

“close already? such a sensitive girl you are.”

“r-robin!” you whined. “ngh.. don’t you dare stop..” you groaned as you clawed at her back, making her whimper.

“why would I stop, baby? I’m not going to stop unless you tell me to like the good girl you are,” she teased.

“and good girls get what they want.”

—

a/n: I tried to make reader be a power bottom as much as I could, so sorry if it isn’t what you expected it to be💔

[papil0nglegs]

Random Adam headcanons

A/n: idk anything about piercings so sorry if I got some stuff wrong, sorry to the piercing community ig. (You guys are so cool)

Adam hates wearing clothes to bed sm

He can’t help it, he js feels too trapped with those itchy pants + sheets around him

Plus he loves feeling your skin on skin while in bed, nothing sexual, physical touch is just his favorite way of affection

“Adam can you please put on some pants on at least”

“What? You don’t like my fur?”

“No your body is just hot as fuck.”

“I know 🙄”

Your lucky he even wears underwear to bed

He has such a dad bod yall

But it grosses you out whenever he calls his body hair his “fur”

If you also hate wearing clothes to bed he’ll marry you immediately

He’d always have his cheek against your bare stomach while cuddling, making circles around your waist

Adam having piercings just makes sense to me, so while he’s resting on your stomach he’ll accidentally poke you with his sharp ones

“Ow! Adam I told you to take those off!”

“Shoot mybadmybadmybad”

He just scurries sitting up quickly screwing them off 💀

Now since he hates clothes, imagine how he feels about that mask

Every time he gets home he’s tearing that thing off because of how much it heats up his face

“Stupid fucking hot ass mask-“

“Why do you even wear that in public?”

“Because it looks badass??”

“How did you make it this far in life..”

Hates shaving.

Loves his body hair too much

Trying to get Adam to shave is like trying to get a cat to take a bath

“Adam get in the bathroom right now!”

“I DONT WANNA FUCKING SHAVE”

“sigh I’ll let you sleep naked if you do it”

“deal.”

such a good deal

His skin is so soft when he shaves it, it’s like hugging a giant marshmallow

“Babe, your body feels like a baby’s ass”

“I know, but I miss my f-”

“I swear to fuck if you say fur one more time.”

Using his wings as a blanket>>>>

Yk that scene from turning red where Abby clings onto Mei, yeah, that’s you so he can wrap his wings around you

He’d also pluck one of his feathers off to give to you, for “memories”

Pluck

“Here you g- grunt go y/n, for memories”

“Oh my god Adam you’re bleeding”

“A small price to pay for a gift”

“Adam, blood is literally all over your feathers.”

“My wings my choice, bitch.”

[corruptedcaps]

Love of a good man

Jenny and Brad had been dating for nearly a year. While they had yet to be sexually intimate with one another they loved each other deeply. Brad had asked a few times but each time she shot him down saying she wasn’t ready. However she was ready and had been for sometime. Brad was handsome, athletic and everything she wanted in a man but she held a dark secret.

“Ok this is all gonna sound a little crazy but there has been a reason we haven’t had sex all this time and first off I just want to say that I am ready.” She said to him one night. He looked at her slightly worried but excited that they were finally going to make love.

“Ok here goes. A few years ago I was cursed by a witch. This curse gave life to a part of me that was... bad. You see every time I would have sex with someone I would change. A new me would come out and take over until the next time I had sex. This dark reflection of me ruined my life and every relationship I had. She is an evil, scheming, spoilt slut of a woman who lives to cause misery. She calls herself Natasha.” Jenny said looking sadly out the window.

“Natasha? As in your sister Natasha?” Brad asked dumbfounded. Jenny turned to look at him.

“I told you my sister lived to torture me. Well the truth is I have no sister. I am an only child but she does live to torture me. She transforms my good body into one devoted to pleasure. She is a big breasted vain conceited bitch and I wish I wasn’t stuck with her. The worst part is I don’t know what she does when she takes over! The last time she took over I was gone for months!” Jenny said on the verge of tears. Brad held her face in his strong hands.

“If she only comes out when you have sex then why do you want to have sex now?” He asked.

“Because there is a way to break the curse so that I can be free of her forever. If I have sex with my true love then it with eradicate the bad part of me. After a year together I know we are meant to be, that you are my true love.” Jenny said tears running down her face now. Brad pulled her tight into a hug. He held her and she felt safe. She pulled off his shirt and began kissing his perfect chest. She had wanted this for so long. She had to be certain otherwise she would lose another man to that bitch.

They stripped the clothes off each other like wild animals. They were both starved of each other but now they would finally feast. Jenny for the first time saw what Brad had packing and she was not disappointed.

His big cock slipped easily into her wet pussy and she nearly orgasmed right then and there. It felt incredible to be having sex again after so long and with one she loved so much.

“Oh Brad this feels so good, I knew you were my true love!” She groaned as she rode his cock. However his demeanour seemed to change, his thrusts becoming more aggressive.

“Oh shut up you fucking loser, thank god I won’t have to deal with you much longer.” He said coldly. Jenny’s eyes went wide.

“W-what are you saying? Wait! No! I can feel something. I need to stop…. Ooohhhh fuck but why fight it?” She moaned, her voice turning into a slutty purr for a moment. Brad grinned.

“Come out Natasha, it’s time to take over just like we planned.” He said pumping faster.

“Like you planned? Brad how could you do this? How could you be sooooo mmmm evil. Bad boys really turn me on! No! That’s Natasha, that’s not me!” Jenny groaned trying to fight it, trying to urge her body to get off Brad’s dick but it all felt too good. Then the changes began.

Her tits strained against her B size bra as they grew massive. Her chubby belly tightened and crunched in giving her a perfectly toned tummy.

“Mmmm much better, being a hawt sexy bitch is much better than being some nobody loser. No! This isn’t right, this is my body! Oh please dear YOU wish this could be your body!” She said fighting with the emerging Natasha as the changes continued.

Her bony behind grew extra layers of fat to give her a bubble butt which Brad appreciated as she slowly bounced up and down on him. Her short sensible hair grew down her back, becoming thick and full.

“Oh Brad my love I can feel her almost gone, then we can be together forever! That’s right Jenny, the true love curse works both ways, it’s just Brad happens to be mine and not yours.” Natasha said with a cackle as she felt Jenny slip away more with each second.

Long fake nails snapped onto her hands that she joyously ran down Brad’s chest. Her lips inflated into a bitchy pout and makeup covered her face finishing her transformation. However Jenny wasn’t gone yet, Natasha had to do one more thing to get rid of her.

“Oh fuck baby make me cum! I need to cum NOW! Ohhhhh fuuuuckkkkk yesssss!” She screamed at the top of her lungs as she orgasmed hard solidifying her dominance over Jenny’s body.

Collapsing onto the bed in orgasmic joy, Natasha could feel no part of Jenny still lingering.

“Was it good for you?” Brad said slyly.

“Life changing.” She replied with an evil giggle.

[dark-and-kawaii]

begging and pleading for more mean raphael 😭🙏🏻 the way you write is so ajahdhejdjsj i literally check your blog DAILY

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ The Devils Entertainment ˖⟡˚౨ৎ⋆

Summary: Raphael uses you like the eager pup you are, using you as a precious little cum dump. That’s all you’re good for anyway, to entertain him until he grows bored.

♡ Content: NSFW - Degrading - Used - Creampie - Mean Raphael

♡ Notes: Whaa!!! Thank you darling (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )!!!! I can’t believe you check my blog daily, like wow!!! I really hope this satisfies your mean Raphael needs!!!

Raphael fucks you raw until you’re begging, crying for him to cum inside you. Until your mind has completely blanked out. The man- the devil, always makes your body his own, his hands bruising your hips, your throat, your wrists as he manhandles you into the perfect position to pound your abused cunt, “You bend so easily, little pup. It’s almost dull.” He laughs low, his grip on your hip tightens as you sob his name, your arms barely keeping your chest off the ground.

Your body is sore and used, your mind exhausted, unable to do much more than feel the pleasure of his thick cock, his cum leaking from your swollen, aching cunt… “I barely exert any effort, and there you go, crumbling at the seams. It's like you were made to be broken. Pitty. I like when they can at least put up a decent fight.”

You whine when the devil pulls out, leaving your core empty so he can watch his seed spill from you. His voice is cruel as he chuckles, watching you intently, “So eager to fall apart. I wonder-“ he places his hand on his chin, “do you enjoy it? The descent, the collapse? It seems to come so naturally to you.”

You're not sure how to respond. You don't have the strength or mind to argue, not that he'd ever listen to anything you say anyway. Not that you mind being treated in such a manner…

He leans in close, his nose pressed to the shell of your ear, his breath hot, sending chills through your tired body, “Each time I think you've hit the bottom, you find a new way to disappoint me. It's an art form, really, your knack for disappointing me."

You don't have the strength to move. He grabs your chin and forces your head to the side, making you look at him, his lips against your skin, his words a dark, twisted promise, “You’re not worth my time I’m afraid, only good for one thing and that’s a hole for me to fill. But don’t worry, if you wish to get off little mouse, Haarlep will happily keep you company.”

You wanted to tell him no, that you’d do better, that you’d get him the crown and all would be well, that you worshiped him like some kind of god- like an archdevil, but the words wouldn’t come. And even if they did, would it matter? You know this is what your devil likes, tormenting you. Using you, breaking you... Watching as Haarlep his precious incubus fucks the almost ever living life out of you. Stroking his cock as you call out to him while impaled on Haarlep’s grossly thick cock.

This was your life now, a plaything for the devil and all you could do was nod with a lazy fucked out smile. Your body limp as Raphael lifts you up, tossing you on his bed near Haarlep’s lap, “do try to make this an entertaining performance, Haarlep.”

The incubus nods, lifting you into their lap, “Oh, little pet~” Haarlep moans, their hands roaming over your tired body.

Raphael chuckles, sitting on a plush chair across from the bed, a bottle of wine in hand as he watches the show.

[ask-the-pioneer]

"I've always been captivated by them. Something about the shiny exterior, how they glimmer when you tumble them around in your hands. My younger self would obsess about them, a childlike fascination. Even back then I instinctively knew they had value. My mom would use pearls I found to pay for a safe passage at scavenger tolls. We tried to bypass those points as much as we could, but sometimes it was unavoidable."

"It's a looong story…. I was found roaming the wilderness by my mentor, who brought me to er, an entity, called an interator. Do you know of iterators? Apparently they are what was left of an ancient civilization that once inhabited these lands. I couldn't wrap my head around it at first. Iterators are massive, absolutely huge, like mountains. Do you see that big structure of a regular, smooth shape?"

[She points towards Five Pebble's can in the distance]

"That is an iterator's «superstrucute». A mountain, the entire thing… is a person. It still sounds crazy when I say it."

"Ah, right, my name… like I mentioned, I got lost and my mentor found me. He brought me to his iterator. If my memory serves me right, his name is «No Significant Harassment», or NSH for short. I recall thinking at that time, «Harassment? I hope he won't be cruel to me». I had no concept of iterator names, their meaning, why it's three or however many words long. It was incredibly confusing to my young mind, though looking back at it I consider myself very lucky. The iterator was, dare I say, «god-like» (his own words), but benevolent. I saw how well he treated Hunter – my mentor – and it made me trust him more, even though I was scared and wary in the beginning."

"Would you believe it if I told you… there are stories written inside the pearls? That those things I’ve been obsessing about all my life are used for storing information? I had many of them leftover from when I lived at a scavenger outpost. One cycle, NSH noticed my interest, and – I wish Hunter had told me about this sooner, but – the iterator shot at my head with something…? And suddenly I could understand everything he said. Not that he said much, because I started crying loudly and ran straight out of there, haha. But before I bolted, he gave me one of his pearls as consolation. I think he felt bad for the scared little me."

"After that, he would eagerly read all the pearls I brought to him. That is how I learned more about the culture of the peoples who were here before me: the Ancients, their customs, why the iterators were built, and much more. It was like the knowledge of the entire world was suddenly revealed to me – to a seemingly insignificant being, a tiny speck in an endless ocean of life. It both made me feel very important, and very small. And, yeah, it has intensified my obsession with pearls beyond mortal limits. What if I could write into a pearl? I could archive the history of my entire species! All the stories my mom told me when I was small? All the places I’ve been to? Or other scugs have been to…"

[Her eyes widen, sparkling with glee]

"Y-yeah… that would be nice… sadly I am what I am – a slugcat. I don’t know how to do this very advanced stuff at all. I have no means of doing this. I once asked NHS for help, but there’s only so much he could guess from my frantic signing. I don’t think he understood me, in the end. But he did appreciate my efforts, and I was given a title – the Pioneer, like a person who is the very first to explore something uncharted. Apparently no slugcat before me thought of reading from or writing into pearls? I find it a little hard to believe."

"This one! This is a very special kind of pearl – it contains an ancient poem from which my name originated. See, my name was a gift from NSH the iterator. It’s spelled: «Mirmyntasseth». The best way I would describe it, is… it’s a name for a feeling, or an experience. The way it was explained to me, is that the word «Mirmyntasseth» is an expression of seeing a marble roll on a flat surface, then hitting another marble. Ah, right, you may not know this – a marble is like, like a pearl, but translucent and even more ornate. I was told that marbles were used by the Ancients for entertainment. They had a game where you rolled one to hit another. I'll admit, I can see the appeal. Throwing rocks is fun, although I image this game was considered a more dignified pastime."

[She tumbles the dark pearl in her hands, admiring its luster]

"The poem inside this pearl, one of its verses spells: «Eight Marbles Cast in Stone». The poem itself is long… very long… I had the iterator read it to me once, and we had to stop in the middle because the rain was coming. Maybe I will ask NSH to read it again, when I’m back at his superstructure with Hunter."

[Her gaze trails off to somewhere far away for a moment, a subtle grimace on her face. She closes her eyes and shakes off the thoughts that cloud her mind]

"So, um… yes… that is why I am called Eight Marbles Cast in Stone, or Marbles for short. I like how it sounds, it has a nice ring to it. And it’s a gift from an iterator, a god-like being. I consider it a great honor."

"…that said, I wonder why he didn’t just name me «Pearl»? Wouldn’t that make more sense? Maybe it didn’t sound cool enough. They’ve used pearls just to store information. I guess it’d be silly to be named «Dirt» because you doodle in dirt, or «Batfly» because you love eating batflies? Hmm…"

[1whore1gang]

it's the little things 🤍

Hey yall!!

Sorry for the lack of updates/my disappearance. Life has been 50 shades of crazy. But, as promised here is part 10!

Now this is going to be posted in 4 parts unfortunately so i can get this out to you all. so this is part 10A!!

This is short, so be prepared.

I love all of you dearly and appreciate your patience.

Warnings: Cussing, the usual angst

if I missed any please lmk!! :)

Much love to you friends ❤️

Taglist: @gaymistakeboi @batw3nch @thedevillovesflowers @almightywdm @ghostslittlegf @sketchyfandomgirl @under-the-dirt @clear-your-mind-and-dream @darkangel4121 @vreselia @llemes @stargaliz @rockcollector3000 @nottrosaxx @azu21 @kaoyamamegami @vicktorfan @ghost-is-my-bbg @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @salsasvault @itr-00

All 3 boys had been under my care for awhile. No contact from John, nor Laswell. I was exhausted and with little to no sleep, I was losing my mind.

“Please stop crying- I want to go back to sleep Gaz.” I was in the hallway, rocking Gaz as he cried and I couldn’t figure out why. “Please!” I begged.

I hear crying coming from inside the room. “FUCK!” I curse as I go back inside with two crying babies. Johnny was inside of the playpen bawling his eyes out now too.

“Please! Both of you! Keeping me up all damn night and I can’t figure out what’s wrong!! I just want some sleep!” Just then, Simon reached out for Johnny, hugging him as they both lay. Johnny’s cries subside and you breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you. If only you could fix Gaz’s cries.” Simon grunts and you set him down in the playpen next to Simon. Simon slowly hands him a toy plane and Gaz sniffles as he inspects it, the room finally quiet.

You begin to break out into tears at the silence. You couldn’t take this single parenting thing anymore. You needed Price’s help.

A hand reached to your phone, and quickly pulled up his number, but your thumb never found the strength to hit call. You quickly closed out of it and threw your phone across the room in fustration.

“Why can’t one of you turn back into an adult.” You turn to the playpen and see Johnny staring up at you now. “I could really use you right now. My little shield.” His little hands grab at the air towards you. “Oh how I miss you.”

You cradled him to you as you lay on your back, listening to his little mumbles.

“I don’t get it. What’s his deal?”

“Johnny it’s fine. Let him throw his fit.” I wave him off in my office after he stormed in.

“No! You don’t get it! I can’t continue to sit back and let him treat you like this! I cannot watch him tear you down like this! I’m losing you to his words Y/N!” I look up at Johnny as he leans over my desk.

“J.” His eyes soften as my nickname for him. “Don’t lose your job.” He scoffs at me. “We have a list of reasons he could kick us both. Let’s not add to it. Please.”

“He can’t use that against us. What were we supposed to do?!” I sigh as I set my paperwork aside, giving him my full attention. “Why would he be mad about that mission? We were being held hostage, and they wanted a show.”

“Johnny, he’d be upset because it was a stupid decision. We aren’t supposed to mix life and work.” I try to read his expression.

“So what if we kissed to save our lives?”

I remember that night, looking down a barrel of a gun. Johnny confessed his undying love for me and kissed me like he’d never get to again. That night always lived in the back of my mind. I never knew if it was true or just really good acting.

You look down to see little Johnny snoring away on your chest and you drink in the moment. “One day I’ll get to have you back.” Looking over to the playpen, you see Simon and Gaz asleep as well. You thank whatever God is out there for finally putting them down.

DING!

You hear your phone go off. Slowly moving Johnny, you get up to look.

J. Price: “Sorry I missed your call. Everything alright?”

J. Price: “Hey, call me back when you get a chance.”

J.Price: “Please let me know you’re okay. I’m worried now.”

Sighing, you curse yourself for throwing your phone. Your thumb must’ve slipped.

Y: “Accidental.”

You left it at that and set your phone down, finally being able to get some sleep.

“Please. You can’t just walk away from this! This isn’t something you can just shove down Y/N. You can’t shut me out this time!!” Johnny yelled after me as I walked down the halls of the compound. The tears were coming, I knew it. I couldn’t let him see it thought.

“Stop!!” I feel his hand grip my wrist. “If you don’t do something, I will.” His breathing was labored and his eyes were wide with fury, his nostrils flaring with each exhale.

“It’s out of my hands. I’m sorry Johnny. What am I supposed to do?” His face softened as he let out an exasperated breath. His shoulders fell and his grip left me. “I’m choosing to keep my job separate from everything else.”

“Fine. But just remember what Simon said, okay? Remember what we swore to you. Say the word and the man is dead.”

I sigh as I look up at him. Johnny recently had found out what happened to be on deployment. The man that hurt me. He’d been fuming ever since. “It’s fine. Go get some sleep, ok?”

Johnny was always the one to get heated about things. Simon was the calm and quiet one. Johnny would be loud and abrasive about a subject while Simon would hold you and quiet your tears.

You spent many nights in Simon’s room crying into his arms, letting your emotions roll off of you as he shushed you and hummed to you. He was soft and gentle, a side reserved for you.

You stared at your ceiling as your alarm went off. All three boys were already up preoccupying themselves. You were so numb after what happened in the hospital.

Seeing Price about to kiss Tia, after leaving you cold turkey on deployment. The betrayal broke you in new ways you weren’t sure you could repair.

Seeing little Johnny in the hospital bed, hearing Price and Tia try to explain themselves.

It burns in your brain, haunts you everytime you close your eyes. Your heart feels the pain all over again every morning when your eyes flutter open. How could you have been so foolish to trust him? After all he did?

Price had done nothing but treat you like shit your entire career and all it took was some babies coming along, who happened to be your colleagues, for him to change overnight?

As if that-

You sat up in bed. A million thoughts were swirling through your mind as Simon looked up at you and tilted his head.

No. It can’t be the reason.

Letting out a sigh and pushing the thought aside, you grabbed the boys and went to the kitchen to feed them. You hadn’t eaten much since the hospital, didn’t have the appetite.

The sunlight through the window felt warm on your skin as you mixed the bottles. Closing your eyes for a moment, you embraced the feeling. It felt euphoric to feel the sunshine brush against your skin.

A cry broke the moment of peace, a fuss from Gaz. You rolled your eyes and gave the boys their bottles. You sat the breakfast bar across from their high chairs and laid your head down in your arms, desperate for just 5 minutes.

“Y/N?” That didn’t last long though.

Slowly, your heavy head lifted to see Laswell standing in the doorway that led to the rest of the building. “Honey you look terrible, oh my God”.

Words didn’t grace your tongue today, instead, tears flooded your eyes as Johnny began to cry. Laswell rushed over to you, embracing you with file folders in her hands. “I’m so sorry I’ve left you to be alone for so long. I’ve been handling things on the outside end of this all. You must be exhausted. Oh…”

You didn’t want her pity, yet having another person around was such a relief. Emotions flooded you and broke open like a dam at her comfort. “You know what. You go rest and I’ll watch the boys for awhile. Then we’ll talk, okay?”

She quickly rushed over to hush Johnny and then shot you a mom glare. You nodded and got up, heading to your room to sleep like she’d ordered.

A couple hours later, you make your way back out the kitchen but stop around the corner when you hear Laswell talking on the phone.

“You don’t understand, she’s in horrible condition. She looks as if she hasn’t slept in days, which isn’t surprising considering she’s taking care of 3 littles by herself. She’s also recovering from major surgery.” A pause in her talking made you listen closer, trying to see if you could hear the person on the other end.

“All Im asking is you take at least one. Theyre your responsibility too. You know damn well it’s not fair. She’s been through hell and back and hasn’t had a moment of peace for over a month. If you don’t start getting your shit together, I’ll force you to.”

You couldn’t hear the person she was speaking to unfortunately, but you assumed it was Price.

You finally make the turn around the corner and watch as Laswell quickly hangs up the call at your appearance. “That wasn’t very long?” She remarks.

“Hard to sleep these days. It’s normal for me after a deployment.” You sit down across from her at the breakfast bar. “How were the boys?” Your eyes drift over to all three of them passed out in the small living area. You sigh in relief at the sight, they’d never sleep that peacefully for you lately.

“They were fine. No issues. We need to talk though. Your plate is all too full right now. We need to take some stress off of you dear.” She reaches and grabs your hands across the table. “I’ve spoken to John. He’s willing to take Gaz to lighten your load. It’s not much but it’ll help. Plus, now that I’ve gotten everything in order on the outside, I can be around more to watch Simon and Johnny for you whenever you want or need.”

“I don’t want anything to do with him.” You look down and take your hands away. “I’m fine without his help-“

“No you aren’t. You’re drowning. Look at yourself. I can tell you’re without sleep and a proper meal. Let me help you, please.” You sigh at her words.

“I wish I had my boys back. They’d know exactly what to do. They’d fix everything. I can’t go on like this, it’s lonely here Laswell.” Tears sting your eyes.

“I know honey. I’ve arranged a time for us to meet John just to exchange Gaz. Nothing more. You don’t have to talk to him or even get out of the car. Just come with so he can take one off of your hands.” She squeezes your hands as she takes them again. “Okay?”

You take a deep breath before nodding at her offer. “When do we leave?”

“In about an hour. Is that enough time to freshen up? I can change the boys and get them in their car seats for you.” She scans your expression looking for any way to read deeper into your mind.

“Yeah that’s fine. I’ll uh, go shower.” You get up and beeline to your room.

The shower washes your tears down the drain as the water burns your skin.

When you exit the shower and get dressed, staring at your reflection for a moment.

You didn’t recognize yourself and you hoped Price would not notice.

You didn’t want his pity.

That’s when a knock appeared at your door. Figuring it was Laswell, you quickly answered it but instead you were shocked.

“Hey girl. Can I come in?”

Tia….

[physalian]

There’s this unskippable Google AI ad on YouTube where this girl consults the robot about how to cancel dinner plans with the people across the table in the most annoying voice (likely because I have seen this ad now and had to listen to her asinine questions 20 times at least) and this ad, right here, speaks to my frustration around AI:

It disincentivizes critical thinking.

I know the ad is a joke and meant to be lighthearted and I’m only this annoyed because it’s unskippable and irritating af, but every time I see it all I can think is “if you can’t manage enough creativity and critical thinking to come up with your own excuse to cancel on your friends, maybe you shouldn’t have those friends.”

I have a relative who is firmly in the ChatGPT camp and, for example, yesterday I was trying to figure out how to compress a video file and was venting to them about it. They sent me back something I didn’t read from ChatGPT. Meanwhile, I looked up a YouTube video and figured out how to do the rest on my own, and getting the file compressed was immensely satisfying. Far more than mindlessly and thoughtlessly consulting the robot.

“It’s just like a YouTube video!” They’d told me.

No, a real person put time and effort into that video. That robot stole their content without their consent, didn’t credit them, and spat it back out. I used to patronizingly refer to ChatGPT as "the magic conch" and now I can barely do that anymore because that metaphor is becoming all-too real.

While I can understand the barriers it lowers—like if you struggle with writing the robot does it for you, or if you need a piece of art and are too poor, you can generate it for free. Mindless, repetitive tasks that eat up creative juices that can just be automated by a robot, too (even though everyone can tell when a response is canned and artificial and no one appreciates talking to a machine).

If you keep consulting ChatGPT for how to articulate what you want to say, or just straight-up having it do the hard work for you, you’re never going to learn. Yes it’s taken me 8 years to reach the quality and skill of writing I have but as another Tumblr post out there said: The time will pass anyway.

I can’t draw to the skill level that I’d like to. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to keep practicing until I get there. I thrive off that sense of accomplishment. There’s no little hit of dopamine from typing in a prompt and clicking a button and I certainly don’t appreciate the final product scalped without consequence from real artists.

Or, like when I had to fire a beta reader for flagrant abuse of AI in her work: I can copy-paste my manuscript into ChatGPT, too. I’d paid her for a human response, not garbage feedback that couldn’t understand what I was writing beyond that there were words on the page. I wanted so badly to ask her why she does a job in a creative field if she's just going to have a robot do all the fun parts? I beta read at a great loss of profit because I enjoy beta reading and it's a fiercely competetive market. Surely if she wanted to scam people, she could have done so in so many other ways. You don't need to know how to pen complex prose in your every day life, but by god, you do need to know how to effectively communicate, contextualize, and argue your perspective and this ridiculous ad joking about cancelling dinner plans sure is funny, until it isn't.

And I know the people who made AI probably did so with the best of intentions but people can be lazy and cheap and we love taking shortcuts to save money and I stand by this: "Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn't stop to think if they should."

So. Yeah. This is a writing advice blog and this post has almost nothing to do with it, but that ad annoys me to no end and I had to say something somewhere about it. Bottom line: Robots were supposed to make the hard jobs, the monotonous jobs, the overcomplicated jobs, the belittling jobs easier, not make us all into pudding-boned Wall-E people. If you want to write, learning is absolutely free - write on the back of your grocery receipts for all I care. If you want to draw, pick up a notebook and pack of pencils from the local dollar store and start drawing.

What you made will always mean more to you than something that didn't cost you time, effort, brain power, or even money to obtain.

[blurglesmurfklaine]

hello nobody asked but here are more unsolicited Newsies Uno ReVerse thoughts that I can NOT get out of my head

Crutchie is Jack’s brother, but he never expects him to go out selling with his disability

When Les and Davey meet Crutchie for the first time, Les tells Jack something borderline offensive like “Why didn’t you tell me youse had a little brother with a bum leg? Between my face and his leg, we coulda been making MILLIONS this whole time!”

Davey is appropriately embarrassed and apologizes profusely on his brother’s behalf

Davey is obsessed with Portland, Oregon (it’s his Santa Fe) somewhere he can get away from the heated claustrophobia of the city, lock himself away in a cabin and finally put down on paper the little stories he tells himself to get through the day

Jack volunteers to go to Brooklyn with Davey

Les is the one hauled away to the refuge after Seize The Day

David and Katherine are the ones who hit it off, and Jack is The Pining One (TM)

Post-Rally, the Something To Believe In scene starts off with Kath confronting Davey and i don’t have details but I do have this piece of dialogue:

“If you weren’t a girl, you’d find out exactly why they call me Mouth.” “I think your inability to shut up might have something to do with it.” “No, it’s because when I hear someone talking about something they have no idea about, I aim for the mouth. And I don’t miss.”

And then Kath kisses him and Davey’s like omg??? Do I…..??? Like girls??? (Bc living in a house full of boys there’s no WAY he doesn’t already know he’s gay (umbrella term))

This Affects Post Canon bc I said so. Fun Post Canon Stuff (it’s fun for ME. Probably not for yall. You’ll call it angst or something):

Jack catches a Davey and Katherine kiss when they win the strike and it kind of makes him Unwell

Davey gets a job writing for The World

Jack has a hard time adjusting going back to school, can’t focus, realizes he’s happiest when he’s with the newsies (and Davey)

He brings up to Medda the idea of dropping out to get a job. She agrees because she sees how unhappy he is and school really just isn’t I for him

Kath gets him a job as an artist at The World

This means he has to see Davey and Kath Together Every Day and it makes him even more Unwell (although he loves the art part of it!)

Davey notices this because he is Davey

Because he is Davey and is the smartest man in the room but also the biggest idiot on the planet, he completely misconstrues the reason Jack is Being Weird

So Davey invites Jack to hang out one on one, without Katherine and Jack accepts at first but it gets harder and harder and Davey is more engrained in his life than ever and he just can’t do it

So Jack stops interacting with Davey at work, blows him off outside of it, and generally starts distancing himself and Davey is totally clueless

Finally, he goes to Katherine and complains about it and the conversation goes something like this:

“I thought spending time alone with him, away from you—no offense—would make him feel better. You know, remind him that no matter what’s going on with you and me that he’s still my friend.”

“I think that’s part of the problem, Davey.”

“I mean yeah. Truth be told if he and I weren’t friends I doubt you and I would even be an issue. I think he’d just go for it.”

“…… What?”

“I think he’d ask you on a date outright, instead of feeling guilty about his feelings for you.”

“….. oh my god you fucking idiot.”

Don’t ask me how this is resolved because i have absolutely no idea :)

[c0ld0utside]

Beach Centaur father adopts a siren kid that is super timid?

Siren kid (timid) Centaur dad

Warnings: (Let me know if I’ve missed any): Mentions/descriptions of violence, poorly written timid reader, manipulation

Criticism + advice is welcome, here we go

At first, Jordan didn’t care much for humans. As far as he knew all they did was whine, take, and fight over the smallest things. Not to mention, their other behaviors were… interesting. So, like most other species that the humans deemed “monsters,” he ignored them. He focused on his own life in his home in the woods, tending to his pond and garden and admiring his collection of fish. Ignorance is bliss, as they say. 

This, however, was something he couldn’t ignore. 

It’s true that voices carry. The news that some human sailors had killed a pod of merfolk spread like wildfire through Jordan's coastal town. A few weeks later, a small pod of merfolk washed up on the shore, their tails sloppily lopped off. Everyone was in an uproar. The outrage was understandable; most species had been allied with sirens for centuries. Their songs and stories were loved by all.

Jordan’s dislike for humans grew with every new report. Being humans, they got curious and wanted to explore. Instead of asking for help like any other sane person, however, they settled on harming those who would be happy to lend a hand. 

So when he found you washed up on the rocky part of the shore, covered in cuts and a large, nasty gash, he was more than happy to help. Jordan swaddled you in wet towels and hurried home with you in his arms. He clutched you close to his chest the entire time, and you may or may not have heard him muttering prayers to the Gods under his breath. Originally, he had planned on fishing and collecting trinkets to sell, but you were far better. You were precious. A helpless, innocent little thing. How could anyone want to harm you?

[...]

The trip back didn’t take long. It turns out the stranger lives up on the cliffs. It’s different from observing them below, somewhat hidden by the fog. Seeing that first thing in the morning always filled you with a sense of something that you couldn’t explain. Trees and greenery tinted by the mist…beautiful yet ominous. Up here, however, the trees are thinner than they seem, covered in moss and fungi. Trails are constantly battling with plants growing back over them, too.

“We’re almost there, little one,” the centaur said. “May I call you that, by the way? ‘Little one’? I hope you don’t mind.” You respond by curling up further into yourself, trying to hide. The stranger responds to that by rubbing soothing circles on your shoulder. 

When you arrive, he nudges you carefully. “Look,” the stranger says. “Isn’t it pretty?” You look up, and he’s right. It’s beautiful. A cozy wooden house with a large decorated pond surrounded by odd thin trees, wildflowers, and shrubbery everywhere. If you squint past the fog, you can see the ocean down below. Home, your heart aches. 

The centaur gently lowered you into a closed-off part of his pond- an area he had for whenever his fish got injured somehow. “Wait here,” he said quietly, rushing into his home and returning a few moments later with a jug of…something. He slowly poured some of it into the pond, the liquid smelling absolutely wild. “I don’t know much about sirens or merfolk, so I figured the medicine I use when my fish get hurt might help.” The centaur explained sheepishly. “Are you comfortable? What do you want to eat? Have you had strawberries before?”

He couldn’t stop bombarding you with questions like a fussy mom when her kid is sick. “No,” you answered, voice weak. Sure, this centaur was helping you, but you had no idea who he was, where you were, or if he would hurt you. Was he luring you into a false sense of security like those humans had? It all happened so quickly. You and your family had been lounging in the shallow waters and basking in the sun. Your mother was humming a tune when a boat approached. Some humans called your parents over and the next thing you knew there were harpoons and nets and screams and cries.

The stranger must’ve noticed you sinking into your mind because he (to the best of his ability) knelt down at the edge of the pond. “Hey, you’re okay here, I promise. I just want to take care of you.” The stranger says, keeping his tone as comforting as possible. He frowns when you slip underwater, peeking out a few moments later. “Okay, let me try this,” the centaur mutters under his breath. “My name is Jordan, and I’m going to help you get better. I swear on my heart.” He introduces, making a cross-my-heart motion. “Now, I’m going to go get you some strawberries. Let’s see if you like them, yeah?” Jordan announces, getting up and trotting away.

[...]

Jordan doesn’t quite get it. He’s trying his best. He keeps his voice soft, he talks to you, and he tells you interesting things, like the weird scent you smell when he pours the medicine into the water is tea tree oil.And that the hammering noise you heard is a bird called a woodpecker. Oh- and that pretty fish swimming around you is called a koi fish. And aren’t those strawberries sweet?

Yet it’s always the same. You barely answer, only shaking your head or nodding. You hide underwater most of the time, hanging out with the fish and poking at the underwater plants. If his voice is anything but soft you freak out and disappear into the pond, back to the safety of rocks and pebbles and weird-looking fish and plants. 

That’s not the only problem. The news of human attacks on sirens and merfolk is getting worse. Apparently, humans are treating them as they would seafood. As if that couldn’t get any worse, reports of kidnappings turned into busted “fish farms” after clans raided human settlements in search of the missing sea creatures. 

Jordan can’t possibly take you back to the ocean now. It’s too dangerous, and he’s getting attached. You’re not some prized fish, oh no. You’re a treasure that he has to protect. So when you finally muster up the courage and ask him to take you home in that nervous, tiny voice of yours, he’s quick to say no. 

He knows you won’t understand right away, so he tells you things he’s heard through the grapevine from his time in town. 

“I went to sell some of the vegetables from my garden today, and saw a poster saying that a pod of mermaids has been taken by humans.”

“I went to buy these shells to remind you of home. …I also heard that a group of humans killed some more sirens today.”

“That market is full of depressing news nowadays. A group of werewolves found that missing pod. I don’t know how they’re ever going to recover, kept in those cramped tanks. Poor things.” 

“You don’t need to worry about that happening to you as long as you stay here with me. You’re safe up here!”

“Humans have no reason to come up here. And if they do, I’ll take care of them. Promise.”

Slowly but surely, it works. You stop asking to go home. You start talking to him. It isn’t much at first, but Jordan’s smile grows every time you give him more than just a few words. He’s also made a whole new pond just for you, decorating it with shells and sea glass and other ocean-y things he got from the market. Jordan only goes down there to sell his crops and decorative plants, along with seeds in case anyone wants to try making their own garden. The rest of his time is devoted to tending to his garden and spending time with you. 

Like a good, proper guardian. 

-

I'm finally free for the summer, expect a lot of things. To the people who did not read the pinned post; requests are closed for now. Will admit that like my Miguel O'hara one, this wasn't my favorite mostly because I think it's bland and I don't know how to write timid/shy characters just yet. At least I gave it a go.

[bloody-bee-tea]

June of (minimal) Doom 2024 Day 11 - We're out of time

Suguru smiles, watching the scene in front of him unfurl with a great deal of amusement. Shoko is trying to teach Satoru how to heal others, now that he figured out how to heal himself, and it’s going just as well as all three of them expected.

Suguru gives her another five minutes before she attempts to strangle Satoru with her bare hands and claim that maybe a life and death situation is going to speed matters along.

“Gojo, please,” she now says, her voice tightly controlled and she pinches the bridge of her nose. “Would you concentrate for once in your life?”

“I am concentrating,” Satoru shoots back. “It just doesn’t make any sense what you’re saying!”

Shoko takes a deep breath, clearly trying to calm herself down and Suguru honestly feels bad for her. It’s not as if he has any idea what they are talking about, seeing as he is the only one in the room who doesn’t have any kind of healing-power—neither himself nor others—and so to him it’s all gibberish anyway.

“You just have to concentrate,” she reiterates again. “Remember how it feels when you heal yourself,” she says, not for the first time and Satoru throws his hands up in frustration.

“I know how it feels when I heal myself!”

“Then put your hand on my arm and heal this goddamn cut!” Shoko snaps back and maybe Suguru was a bit generous with his estimate of five minutes.

It looks as if she’s about ready to snap any moment now.

“I can’t, why won’t you understand that! It doesn’t make sense when it comes to you, it’s just not the same!”

“What do you mean ‘not the same’? A body is a body!”

“But it’s not,” Satoru whines and slumps in his chair, eying the shallow cut on Shoko’s arm.

Suguru suspects it’s pretty hard for her to keep it open in the first place at the moment and he wonders if that might be one of the reasons she’s so annoyed by Satoru today.

“What do you mean by that? Gods, Gojo, would it kill you to explain yourself once in a while?”

“Things in my body make sense,” Satoru starts, clearly trying to make Shoko understand. “There’s a wound, I do a little—” he wriggles his fingers in what Suguru guesses is a sensible motion because Shoko nods “—and then it’s gone. But I can’t do the same for you. There’s this—barrier or something and everything past that is muddled and muted and confusing and makes no sense at all. I don’t even know where to send my energy to start on healing you and nothing you say makes sense because I don’t feel your body like I do mine.”

“And thank the gods for that,” Shoko mutters before she shakes her head. “But that’s not feasible, Gojo, you have to figure out how to look past this barrier. What if he gets hurt?" Her hand flies up and she points an accusing finger at Suguru, who almost jerks back.

He’s just here to bear witness to this madness, not be dragged in and besides—

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence, Shoko,” he drawls out and then very much does not wither under her burning glare.

“We all know neither of you are indestructible. We’ve seen it. So what if Geto gets hurt again, huh? What are you going to do then?”

“Bring him to you?” Satoru gives back and shrugs. “I mean, I can just teleport him to you if it comes to that.”

“It’s not that easy, Gojo. You can’t always assume that an injury will still allow you to move him.”

“Huh?”

“What if he’s impaled on something? What if moving him means exacerbating his injuries? What are you going to do then?”

 “I can just come and get you?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Shoko shakes her head. “You know Yaga sends me to Kyoto more often these days. What if I’m not here? Are you going to warp yourself all over Japan just to get me? We all know you can’t do long-distance teleportation—not yet—and even if you could: two times that close together while you’re also transporting another person? It’s unlikely even you can do something like that. And even if, let’s pretend your genius self can figure this out, what about him then? You want to leave him alone, seriously injured on a battlefield? Either with a curse still there or left all to his own? It’s not going to work, Gojo. You have to figure out how to do it, for his sake at least.”

Satoru looks over to Suguru with a frown and Suguru simply shrugs. Shoko isn’t wrong, after all. So many things can go wrong on a mission and there’s no way to predict a situation like this.

“It could also be a matter of time,” Suguru apologetically says, because he knows Satoru hates it when he’s not on his side but Shoko is right. “What if I’m bleeding out? You teleporting all over the place could take too much time. Sometimes it’s a matter of seconds that make a difference.”

Shoko only points at him as if to say ‘What he said’ and Satoru groans.

“Fine, I get it, I do, but that doesn’t change the fact that I cannot figure it out!”

“Then work on it! You learned RCT in a moment of shock to safe your own life. Imagine how you’d feel if he would die, maybe that will help.”

“Please don’t,” Suguru immediately blurts out because while he doesn’t believe in superstitions, it does feel a lot like inviting doom should Satoru imagine something like that.

And Suguru can really do without a near-death experience any time soon.

“Can we just stop for today?” Satoru quietly says, his eyes downcast, and Suguru doesn’t even want to think about what he’s imagining right now. “I promise I’ll work on figuring it out, I promise, but—not today?”

“Fine. Get out of my hair then,” Shoko mutters, waving them off and Satoru is off his chair faster than Suguru can comprehend.

Satoru snatches Suguru’s hand in his and drags him off with him and it’s not as if Suguru is putting up much of a fight, so he easily follows Satoru. He seems lost in his own head and Suguru keeps quiet until they are in Satoru’s room.

“You okay?” Suguru asks once the door is closed behind them and Satoru lets out a shaky breath.

“Don’t get hurt until I figure it out,” he says, his voice almost pleading, and Suguru’s chest suddenly feels tight.

“Satoru—”

“Suguru, just. Don’t get hurt, alright? I will figure it out, I promise you, but until then you cannot get hurt. I can’t—”

Satoru’s breath is coming a bit fast right now and Suguru steps close, resting their foreheads together.

Suguru gets it; he always feels a little bit faint when he remembers just how much blood he found in the spot where Satoru fought and he can imagine that Satoru felt much the same when he heard that Suguru had gotten hurt as well.

“I’m gonna be careful,” Suguru promises him because that’s the only thing he can do.

There’s always a chance in their profession that they are going to get hurt and things in a fight are more than unpredictable but he can at least promise that he’s not going to take any unnecessary risks.

“Please,” Satoru whispers, gripping Suguru’s arm almost painfully and Suguru pulls him into a real hug.

“I promise I’m going to be careful. I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

“Thank you,” Satoru says and deflates where he stands.

Suguru expected it, so he can easily hold Satoru up, but he does shuffle them over to the bed.

Today, they are going to take it easy and then tomorrow they can double down on Satoru’s training. Suguru has all the faith in the world that Satoru is going to figure it out because he’s a genius like that and so he’s not too worried about anything.

It will be fine.

~*~*~

Suguru can barely breathe and he guesses the huge hole in his chest is the reason for it. There’s a lot of red seeping out of him, he distantly thinks and tries to raise a hand to push it back in.

It’s not very successful and Suguru blames his hand for it, because it barely comes up to where he wants it.

“Suguru! Suguru, no!” Suguru hears Satoru yell out and then in the next second the sky is replaced with sky-coloured eyes.

Suguru thinks he might like the eyes better than the sky.

“I’m good,” Suguru says, can barely feel his mouth shape his words and watches how Satoru’s eyes drop to his chest.

“You’re not fine, fuck, what am I going to do?” Satoru cries out and Suguru remembers that he has not yet figure out how to heal other people.

“Shoko,” Suguru says, because he has to.

He’s going cold and things are getting more clear somehow and he knows he has to send Satoru away.

“Get Shoko,” he says again when Satoru doesn’t move and he tries to push his hand away from his chest, but he can’t find the strength to do so.

“Suguru,” Satoru whispers and Suguru blinks.

“No time, Satoru, need Shoko.”

It’s getting harder to form words and he knows in all honesty that he doesn’t have long left. This is it, for him, and he barely spares a thought for himself. The only thing on his mind apart from the fuzziness is the fact that Satoru cannot be here when he dies.

Satoru shouldn’t have to see that.

“I’m not going to make it, we’re out of time,” Satoru gives back, clearly knowing damn well that Suguru will be dead before Satoru is even halfway to Shoko and he puts his hand on Suguru’s chest.

Suguru thinks he might be sick when the wet noise makes it to his ears.

“I’m gonna heal you. I’m panicking, this is a life and death situation, I can totally figure this out,” he mutters and then closes his eyes to better concentrate.

Suguru’s eyes want to drift shut as well but he fights it. If he has to die then he wants Satoru to be the last thing he ever sees.

“You’re not dying on me, shut up,” Satoru says, a touch of hysteria in his voice and Suguru wonders if he said that out loud or if Satoru managed to read his thoughts somehow.

It could be fun, if Satoru were a mind-reader now as well.

“Suguru, stay with me,” Satoru pants out, clearly exerting himself by concentrating really hard and Suguru thought there was a hole in his chest so he doesn’t understand why it’s suddenly burning like that.

“Satoru,” Suguru gets out only to be met with a fierce glare.

“Shut up,” Satoru hisses and Suguru obediently falls silent.

Satoru is clearly doing something and it probably wouldn’t do to interrupt him now.

“You’re not going to die,” Satoru mutters as sweat beads on his forehead. “You’re not. I won’t let you.”

It’s a nice sentiment, Suguru thinks, and then his energy is all used up and the last thing he remembers to do is smile at Satoru.

He deserves at least that much.

~*~*~

Suguru wakes up to Shoko’s face. The sight in front of him doesn’t change, even when he blinks once, then twice and eventually he decides to accept it.

He didn’t expect to see Shoko in the afterlife, but stranger things have happened.

“How did you die?” Suguru asks, his voice raspy and Shoko snorts out a laugh.

“I didn’t, you idiot. Welcome back to the living.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, you heard me right,” Shoko says and leans back. “You survived.”

Suguru cranes his head down to check out his own chest and he is honestly confused when he finds it whole and unmarred.

There should be a hole the size of his fist in there.

“What happened?”

“Gojo healed you.”

“He figured it out?” Suguru asks and he can’t help how proud he sounds.

He always knew that Satoru would figure it out eventually but to hear that he in fact did somehow hits differently.

“Uhm, that’s probably a conversation you need to have with him,” Shoko says, avoiding eye-contact all of a sudden. “You should feel a little bit groggy, but otherwise you’re good to go. Gojo is probably still sulking in your room, claiming I took too long to clear you to go.”

“I—see,” Suguru mutters because this is all a bit much. He does understand that Shoko wants him out of her hair and so he sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the couch he was laying on.

He feels a little unsteady on his legs when he finally pushes himself off but that feeling fades quickly.

“Thanks, I guess,” Suguru mumbles, waving at Shoko who only rolls her eyes at him.

“Go thank your possessive freak,” she gives back and that only serves to confuse Suguru further.

It takes him a little bit longer than usually, but he does make it back to his own room eventually and just like Shoko promised him, Satoru is right there.

“Satoru,” Suguru breathes out and Satoru is there a second later, fluttering his hands over Suguru’s chest as if he has to make sure that he’s really unhurt.

“Did Shoko clear you?”

“She threw me out, if that’s what you mean,” Suguru replies and then pushes past Satoru towards his bed.

Sitting down does sound kind of nice right now.

“That means you’re good then.”

“She did mention that you healed me?” Suguru asks and leans against Satoru with a sigh when he finally sits down on the bed as well.

“What else did she say?” Satoru asks, fiddling with his fingers and Suguru frowns.

“She called you a possessive freak,” he honestly gives back and Satoru huffs.

“Honestly, what does that woman have against me. That’s so uncalled for.”

“What happened?” Suguru asks and leans more firmly against Satoru. “You figured it out then? Healing others?”

“Not—really,” Satoru whispers and clicks his tongue.

“What is it then?”

“Remember that talk I had with Shoko? Where I said that it’s easy because my body makes sense and then there’s a barrier around everyone else?”

“Yeah?”

“Well—it turns out there’s no barrier around you,” Satoru rushes out and Suguru blinks.

“Huh? You mean I’m—what? Leaking everywhere?”

“No, it’s more like—” Satoru sighs. “There’s my body and then there’s everyone else’s. And you’re more like—my body.”

Suguru takes a moment to digest that.

“That’s what she meant by possessive,” he eventually mutters and drops his head to Satoru’s shoulder. “Because you see me as yours.”

“It’s more like—as if we’re one,” Satoru mumbles, his voice barely audible and Suguru hums. “Are you—mad?”

“About what?” Suguru wants to know because being angry is the furthest thing from his mind right now.

“About—that?”

“Satoru,” Suguru sighs out and reaches out to take Satoru’s hand in his, treading their fingers together. “Apart from the fact that you saved my life—for which I am beyond grateful—it’s always us, isn’t it? Why would I be angry knowing that you feel the same about me?”

“The same?”

“Of course the same. Besides, isn’t it you who always says that I’m your one and only? Don’t you think I would have complained before if I minded that?”

“Probably,” Satoru admits and Suguru shrugs.

“Then I don’t see what there’s to worry about. “I love you. You love me and it’s all like it should be. Especially now that I don’t have a huge hole in my chest.”

“Gods, don’t even say that,” Satoru says with a wet laugh. “You have no idea how scared I was.”

“I can imagine,” Suguru replies, because—again—he had to find so much blood after Toji.

He gets it.

“Now, I am cleared and I am very obviously not dead, but I am incredibly tired, so can we please just lay down?”

“Yeah, of course, sure, come here,” Satoru immediately says, moving away from Suguru to allow him to stretch out on the bed.

Satoru follows him easily but instead of laying down next to him, he almost drapes himself over Suguru, pressing his ear to Suguru’s chest.

“Do you mind?” Satoru asks and Suguru somehow musters the strength to raise a hand and card his fingers through Satoru’s hair.

“Not at all,” he whispers and with a sigh of contentment Satoru goes boneless.

“I do love you,” he says after a long moment, “just wanting to get that out there.”

“I think your actions said that loud and clear,” Suguru replies but he can’t deny that it does feel nice to hear him say it.

“Good. Can’t let you forget,” Satoru mutters and then drifts off to sleep, clearly having worn himself out with his worry.

Suguru is not far behind though and he sleeps very well, knowing that his one and only feels the same.

[kingkatsuki]

So I was thinking about Kaji heavier kinks. Imagine asking him to slap you, like your cheek or even your cunt but he already has difficulty not slapping your ass as hard as he wants to and now you're asking him to strike your pretty face or your pretty clit.

Those are things he kisses tenderly, how could he ever? Yet still the loving man he is he tries.

One tentative soft slap to your cunt and when you clench and moan out harder you're not realizes you're making a monster

I’ve never written a thirst post so fast in my life I’m actually embarrassed. Also I don’t know if I could ever write Kaji with cunt slaps because I fear I might not survive— that’s an unbelievably hot thought I will store in my head for later😫

Warnings: 18+, spanking, slapping. Probably shouldn’t ask this question during sex either, but I was struck by the horny so help me god smite me if you have a problem goodbye xxx

“Slap me.” You moaned as Kaji pistoned into you with ferocity, his thrusts had you pushed up against his headboard as your thighs quivered around his waist. Tits bouncing with each sharp rut of his hips as he didn’t miss a beat, his warm palm reached out to strike the side of your thigh roughly. Catching the curve of your ass as you moaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure on contact.

“No, not there—” You gasp as he moves onto his forearms on either side of your face, tilting his head to the side to meet your gaze as he gives you a dark look.

“Then where, pretty girl—“ He brushed his lips against yours, “Tell me—“

“My face,” You gasped as his cock dragged against the spongy spot inside you, “I want you to slap me in the face.”

“No.” Kaji pulled back abruptly, resuming his previous position in front of you as he sat upright on his knees. He would’ve pulled out of you completely if it wasn’t for your thighs keeping him locked in place.

“But you spank me all the time—“ You could already feel the shame and embarrassment flowing through you at the thought that he was kink shaming you, wishing you’d waited to talk to him about this beforehand and not gotten so caught up in the heat of the moment.

“That’s different.” Kaji balked.

“How is it different?” You murmured, reaching out to smooth a palm along his chest.

“It—“ Kaji paused as he pondered his reasoning, his mind instantly filled with how pretty you looked spread out for him as he spanks your ass. Watching it jiggle on impact as the skin prickles beneath his palm, your soft skin darkening and welting as you beg him to do it again, that you can take it, “It just is! I don’t want to hurt you.”

“But I’m asking you to,” You soothed, “I like when you hurt me during sex.”

“Yeah, but what if I really fuckin’ hurt ya,” He pressed, “What if I knock you out?”

“I trust you, Ren.” You replied simply, reaching out to thread your fingers together to squeeze his hand reassuringly, “I wouldn’t even ask you if I didn’t.”

You may trust him, but Kaji sure as hell didn’t trust himself— the pretty sounds you made whenever he spanked you were enough to awaken the voracious depravity he tried his best to keep caged. It had been one too many times he’d spanked your ass a little too hard that he found himself rubbing cream into welts after a season, or watching with worry as you’d wince before sitting down.

Kaji had worked hard over the years to control his emotions, but you were the reason for his loss of control— for the beast he’d become whenever you lay beneath him, ready to devour you whole.

“I’d never force you to do anything, Ren,” You smiled softly, stroking his hand with your thumb, “So if you don’t want to it’s okay.”

“You better tell me if you don’t fuckin’ like it, yeah?” Kaji grumbles, stroking a clammy palm along your thigh.

“Of course, I’d always tell you.”

“I mean it, use the safe word— shove me off—” He presses, sincerity in his steely gaze as his heartbeat speeds up, “Call me a fucking asshole—”

You take the hand that’s linked with yours as you move it up your body towards your face, pressing his palm against your cheek softly as you look up at him with complete love and adoration.

“I trust you.”

Kaji swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he tries to remember to breathe. Drawing his palm back to make sure he doesn’t use the full force he knows he’s capable of, fingers clasped together so he doesn’t do more damage than necessary as he tentively leans forward to slap your cheek with purpose.

The hit has your face twisting to the side on impact, and Kaji’s instantly prepared to blurt out an apology when he thinks he’s hurt you. His skin prickles from where his palm made contact with your cheek, as he sees the faintest mark against your perfect skin. But the debauched, desperate whine that leaves your lips is damn near sinful as he feels your cunt clench down around his cock hard.

Kaji moans at the sensation, his blue eyes rolling back as he has to splay a hand out beside your head to stop himself from falling on top of you from how tight you just became. His heavy balls threaten to spill their load prematurely as he tries to focus.

“Fuck.” He exhales, nostrils flaring as he basks in the sight of you. The throb of your cunt around his cock almost enough to throw him over the edge as he pauses for your reaction.

“Again.” You breathe, looking up at him with pleading eyes, “Please, Ren. One more time?”

Maybe you haven’t created a monster, perhaps he has.