#I do really want to read the rest of the comics though

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"The Test." Part Two. Sugar Daddy AU. Poly!Ghostface X FEM! AFAB! Sugar Baby Reader.

Part one here! Hey, hey, hey! Here it is part two! Picking up RIGHT where part one left off! So this is basically all porn, so happy to be finishing this behemoth! So I might add onto this in the future if people want it, there is still the rest of this three day weekend to go over! Feedback very much encouraged on this one! Thanks for reading and enjoy!

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 7.6K. Billy Loomis/Stu Mach/Sugar Baby FEM! AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Age Gap. Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby Relationship. Sex Work. Restrained Reader. Tit Slapping. Nipple Play. Pain Play. Knife Play. Blood Play. Vaginal Fingering. Edging. Orgasm Denial. Vaginal Sex. Anal Sex. Blow Job. Throat Fucking. Extreme Kink. Double Penetration. Multiple Cream Pies. Dirty Talk. Praise. Degredation. Aftercare.

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Billy felt a thrill run through him. This was unbelievably exciting, so far, this is everything he’d been wanting, all he’d been hoping for. He and Stu both looked at eacdoh other, even though he couldn’t see the eyes of his long term best friend, he knew he felt the same. Giddy, alight, ready to really dive in. A deep breath to compose and really ready himself. 

You wait, but you aren’t left questioning for long, the hand that isn’t holding the knife comes into view, he palms the now obvious clothed erection so close to your face, so easy to see with how your head is currently tilted. “I think we are going to put that mouth of yours to work.” 

The robe is hauled up, and his belt is open, he isn’t in a rush but also clearly he wants to get inside you after all this build up, zipper comes down, then he is exposed, thick and hard, hanging right there, close enough to feel the heat radiating off of him. 

You open your mouth and try to appear somewhat reluctant about it, a valiant attempt to mask the strong desire to have him in your waiting mouth, you manage it well, to not show the excess of saliva that pools or the want in your eyes from the prospect of getting him inside. You want to please them, play your part of the unwilling victim. Your eyes are locked on the bead of pre-cum at this tip, you want to taste it.

“Mmm, can’t you at least try to look a little happy about it?” The question makes you scoff, you fight back the urge to roll your eyes and instead, while keeping your mouth open, you quirk up at the sides. A nearly comical open-mouthed smile forms from the action that in response makes you feel this wash of an emotion that is surely a cousin of humiliation, it also gets minor praise from him, “Better.”

It hits your ears right before, he shoves his cock into the orifice with such brutality it makes even you, the experienced paid slut for hire, gag. It isn’t the hardest you’ve ever gagged, yet there is still a particular kind of force behind it, your body rocking away before making yourself roll forward, taking him deeper, to the root until your lips wrapped around the base. 

He holds, staring down at you, the bulge of himself buried in your throat apparent and crystal clear, if he reached down and squeezed he could feel the pressure of his fingers through the walls of your neck for sure. As it stands at this moment, he doesn’t do that, the knife is still pressed to your throat after all. The view is spectacular, combined with the sensation, it is enough to make his breath stutter, and you can hear it from behind the mask. 

Slowly, he pulls out before bucking his hips forward again with a quiet curse, “Fuck.”

That one exclamation does absolutely everything for you, the cadence of it, you are able to hear the heavier breathing, both sides of that word almost bracketed by a moan. He starts to get into a sporadic rhythm, it is hard to keep track of when he is going to jam himself in or retreat, but you are trying to anticipate his needs, stay on top of it and please him as best as you can, you are doing this to save your life, right?

While you are distracted trying to work with him, move your head, take him as he pushes forward and pull back when he does so you can sneak in breaths whenever he isn’t lodged in your throat, you are assaulted with another sensation leaving you floundering to contend with. 

What sensation is that? The light touch of leather gloved fingertips on the tops of your thighs, they move, patterns being traced that you can’t keep track of before they slip between your thighs and then part them, spreading your legs, exposing yourself. You can feel drool slipping past your lips, running down your face, gravity helping pull the wetness on its way, you still keep up, but barely as finally fingers touch you where you are soaking and aching. The touch is gentle in comparison to how brutal your mouth is getting fucked, one hand palms you carefully, fingers press but don’t penetrate, they rub but not where you wished they would. The first hand shifts, spreads your lips open and then the second joins, thumb dips slightly into your hole collecting slickness before tracing up, circling around your already swollen clit, and you stiffen, moaning around the intrusion between your lips. 

“God, that feels good.” The cock is forced deeper into your throat, “Again.” 

The pressure increases and the circles get smaller, the feeling becoming more intense, and you moan again, louder, whimper a little at the jolt of pleasure that overtakes, and this is how it goes. One between your thighs, touching and rubbing your clit, the other fucking your mouth with abandon until you feel lightheaded from the lack of proper oxygen, trying to breathe while blowing and getting pleasured like this was proving to be impossible. You swallow thickly, trying to manage the excess of spit you were producing, and it was as if they planned it ahead, the timing of it is perfect. Right when you swallow, the first one pushes his hips forward, the head of his dick breaching the tightness of your throat mid-swallow, and the one between your legs? He slips two fingers into your leaking hole, his thumb pressing on your clit all the while. You gag and your walls clench around his fingers, the drag of the leather of his gloves feels much better than it should, his thumb is swirling around and around your clit, your hips buck, wanting to get more of the sensations he was foisting upon you.  

It becomes a blur of trying not to choke on spit or the dick in your mouth as you are catapulted to the edge with alarming speed. The push and pull of the entire act, the heightened emotions from the scenario at hand, all of it, has you near cumming, your body betrays you, tightening, getting more tense and trembling slightly, almost, so fucking close and right before you can tip over, before that first wonderful spasm can start, the fingers are ripped from your hole, leaving you dangling. Your hole is grasping, clitoris throbbing, both silently calling out for something to push you over and finding nothing. Your hips squirm and you whine around the dick in your mouth, if you were able to pout around the thick shaft, you would have.  

“Stop hogging her mouth and let me have a turn.” The voice cuts through the lustful haze, it sounds playful but with an edge that mirrors the knife being held to your throat. 

“Fine.” He grunts before pulling out of you, your eyes take a second to adjust, managing to catch the sight of the wet leash of your saliva still connecting him and you break as he moves back, the blade lifts off of you as you suck down a series of deep breaths. You don’t have time to try and regain some sense of yourself as you are spun on the smooth, polished table-top with ease. Now you are reversed, confronted with the man who was just fingering you, glove still wet as he hauls his robe up and starts opening his pants. 

You wish that your hands weren’t tied and pinned under you right now, you wanted to reach out and tug him close to you, wanted to taste him the moment that second cock was revealed. Patience was apparently wearing thin, pointer finger and thumb at the base of his shaft, near neatly trimmed coarse hair, he guides himself into your open and waiting mouth. 

The moan of satisfaction was so arousing, you swear to God above you feel yourself get wetter. 

“Fucking shit-” He gasps as he thrusts experimentally and the other one hums in response, “Right?” 

There is less than five thrusts into your mouth before you feel a hand between your legs again, two fingers thrust unceremoniously into your hole, you clench, body tenses, you had backed off from the edge, but you were still incredibly sensitive. His thumb presses to your clit but doesn’t rub, the fingers fuck in and out, the pressure combined with the lack of movement of his thumb is killing you viciously, it isn’t enough, you want movement, more friction. However, you are drenched, the wetness is a comfort and a curse, makes for fluid and smooth work, but it also dulls the feeling slightly. The butter soft leather is lovely, sure, but it isn’t what you need right now. His fingers curl, he finds what he wants and he abuses it liberally, he curls into the firmer, rougher tissue causing you to moan, your eyes squeeze shut. His thumb doesn’t move a single centimetre, he drags you to the edge with his middle and ring finger working at a steady pace, up, up, up and there you are, so fucking close you can almost taste it and he stops. Doesn’t even take his fingers out because of the risk he might accidentally trigger it, he just holds, you are throbbing around him and he waits for the edge to recede before he starts again. 

You groan, much more focused on the intrusion in your cunt than the one in your mouth, you had fallen into a good rhythm with that, mostly letting him do what he wanted, take the lead, do what he wished the same way his partner in crime was.

Surviving the next two edges was equal parts blissful and terrible. He worked them out of you quickly, you, of course, let him without putting up a fight, just moaning mournfully around a mouthful of cock.

You wonder if you can get away with it, with grinding your hips up without him protesting, could instead put forth the effort to rub your clitoris on him instead of waiting for him to rub it that last pass needed to make you cum. If you timed it right you could make it happen, push yourself over, steal that much coveted orgasm out right from under him, because who knows if they had plans to let you cum tonight at all. If you do that, make yourself cum using him before he is ready for you to? Who knows what he will do. 

Should you risk it? You swallow around the cock shoving its way into you, inching further and further down your throat, once more your head spinning with want, so fucking close, you are nearly there, his fingers feel incredible. You are buzzing with pleasure, you could always blame it on the lack of proper oxygen, so with that thought you do something stupid.

You move. 

Hips squirm, arching up and then coming back down, the slip of him, of the firm pressure sliding up your clitoral hood and then back down fully over your clit makes you cry out, walls gripping a bit tighter, and that is as far as you get. That knife is put against your hip, your eyes are watering slightly with the effort and severity of the throat fuck, a sharp inhale through your nose, shoulders shuddering as you jump from feeling the cold steel against heated flesh. 

You feel your pussy fighting it, trying to go over the edge, his thumb was barely touching you now, had eased way up, so the contact was extremely minimal, his fingers inside you still and straight, not even curled, not pressed into the spot you needed and slowly, agonizingly, you feel the orgasm slip from your grasp. You didn’t time it correctly and you missed your chance. 

His voice slices through the air as easily as his blade would be able to do your skin, “Try it again. See what happens.” 

An invitation. You hesitate, obviously, fearful of hurting yourself. He pushes, “I mean it, if you want to cum that fucking badly you’d do it, hm? Trade a little bit of pain for some pleasure.” 

You make a sound of question that makes the thrusting into your mouth falter, he pulls out over halfway, just the head of his dick resting between your lips. He joins in, encouraging what the man threatening you between your legs, was suggesting, “Yeah, I want to see it, unless you want to wait for a cock in the other end of you-” He laughs as he slides back in fully, deeply, you gag and he pulls back out almost all the way, “-you aren’t cumming any other way. And you should see how cruel he can be, the stamina on him? He’d be content to fuck with you like that for hours.” 

Your eyes widen in disbelief, hours? He could and would edge you like this for hours? You had barely made it halfway to ten, no way could you make it through hours of that particular brand of torment. You whimper, partly from the situation, partly because those fingers inside your wet walls stir, slow, counterclockwise, stretching you, and you decide fuck it, you can’t hold out. You rock your hips, conveying your consent and they seem pleased by this, “Good. C’mon, put on a show like you did earlier in bed, yeah? Show us how bad you wanna get off.” 

The reminder of their voyeuristic tendencies makes your cunt clench again. 

The cock pulls out of your mouth and slaps your cheek wetly, “Hey, don’t forget about me.” He inserts himself back into your mouth, just the head, and you give a small nod. You lick and suck at the head of his cock as his gloved hand proceeds to slowly stroke his shaft. 

He praises you, “Good girl.” 

Hearing that in that voice? Christ, you wouldn’t take long. The fingers inside curl again, his thumb closer again, and you get to work. Your feet are up on the table, knees bent, you roll your hips, arch up and down, squirm and writhe, rubbing yourself to your hopeful end on his fingers, using gravity to help, pleasing yourself both inside and out. You are very, very aware of the knife, it is to your hip, over the bone, and you find with every movement, there is a small spike of fear, wondering if this will be the pass he presses it the few extra ounces of pressure needed to make that first cut. 

Suck, lick, tongue swirling around the tip, flick, gasp, moan appreciatively and closer and closer you get to the edge. “God, you are such a fucking slut, you just couldn’t get away fast enough before, so confident, wanting to run off down the beach for help and look at you now.”

He sounded a mix of joyful, condescending and mocking all in one, “I’m not doing a damn thing, this is all you, I mean Christ look at you! Slobbering all over my buddies dick and fucking yourself on my fingers.”

He exhales amused, “This isn’t even enough to deter you-”, he taps the knife on your hip and it makes your legs jerk, your cunt grasps at his fingers and he laughs, shocked and delighted, “Oh! See? I think it’s more than that, you actually fucking like it.”

You try to shake your head, try to protest that isn’t true but the one whose cock you are currently worshipping isn’t having it, he smacks your left breast, the pain is sharp, he pinches your nipple next and says harshly, “Get off that high horse of yours sweetheart, you are just as fucked as we are but don’t worry we like it!”

“Yeah, we do, we like to take good care of our toys.” He hums, you hadn’t stopped moving your hips, hadn’t stopped trying to satisfy yourself, your movements are getting sloppier, messier. “Oh, look at you, getting close again, hm?”

You nod, your mouth is uncoordinated, but he doesn’t seem to mind, in fact he is seemingly loving watching you losing your mind, stroking himself as you slurp at the head of his dick, his body language telling you his immense enjoyment.

So consumed with pleasure you had almost forgotten about the knife, as if he could sense this, he chose that moment to remind you. He pressed harder and the skin breaks, you cry out, eyes squeeze shut and your hips stutter, pausing midair, two slaps ring out, one on your chest again, the other on your inner thigh with the back of his hand before the knife is replaced over the fresh wound. You hiss at the rush of pain, “Show us you want it! Keep. Fucking. Going.” 

You did want it, you did want to cum, you needed it so badly, and his tone left no room for argument. You keep going, you rock with renewed vigor, his thumb is slipping over your clit, fingers pushing into that sweet spot again and again, as you move, you find yourself almost sawing the knife into your hip, the cut isn’t deep, but it is getting wider.

You can’t look, but you feel it, hot blood spilling out, running down over your hip, the curve of your ass, your inner thigh, gloved fingers pick some of it up in the process of your pursuit of pleasure, wet crimson adding to the sweat of your tense body, to the mess of your slick pouring from your cunt, creating the most obscenely erotic lube the pair had ever seen.

They knew they would both have to fuck you, bloodlust feeding into sexual lust, merging, twisting, combining.

The cock is pulled from between your lips, no longer stroking himself, he just wants to watch, wants to hear you. With your mouth unoccupied, it hangs open as you allow yourself to pant and moan through it, vocally express yourself. Even with the pain, it doesn’t hurt or hinder, no, it’s helping, the sharp stinging and burning cut of the blade assists and you are hanging on by a thread that is threatening to snap at any second. A quiet and breathless chant is leaving you, “Please, please, please, m’ so fucking close-”

“Nothing stopping you, certainly not us.” 

Your eyes flick down to the man currently two fingers deep, that mask’s hollow empty eyes are staring back at you makes your breath catch, one more, you know it, you think they both do, one more rise and fall of your hips, one more grind, one more cut, and you’ll be there. Your whole body is trembling with the effort, so fucking near you think you might go insane if he stops you from seeing it through again, “Do it.” 

He doesn’t need to tell you twice, hips fall, fingers press inward harder with him helping, thumb slips over your clit and the band inside snaps, your whole cunt spasms and you cum. A bleeding, sweating, shaking, gasping mess, you cum, walls like a vice around his fingers, throbbing and completely alive. You feel indescribably amazing, barely holding on, vision whiting out, you have no words, unable to begin to convey how strong your orgasm was. It’s the kind of climax that leaves you speechless, gun to your head, or knife to your throat, you don’t think you’d be able to adequately describe it in a way that would save your pathetic life. You are left feeling different afterwards, floating and ears ringing, body uncontrollable, from so tense, too loose as can be. 

When the pleasure did finally stop, when every bit of sensation had been wrung out of your body and you were lying flat back on the table, legs dangling once more, chest heaving, struggling to catch your breath.

It isn’t verbally communicated, or maybe it is, you aren’t sure, you are still kind of out of it, you register fingers slipping out, but not much else, your ears are still fucking ringing. You are repositioned, put on your stomach, one leg brought up, knee on the table, the robe flipped up, covering your still bound hands pressed into your lower back. You try to roll your wrists in their restrained state, and yup, just like you thought they’d be, totally asleep. Your cheek is to the table-top, eyes wanting to slip closed, your pussy and ass are totally exposed like this, hands spread you open and you hear a happy sigh, “Oh come look at this!” 

The other one walks around the table to join his friend, his thumb presses to the base of the anal plug you slipped in after your bath, “When did you get this inside yourself?” His tone sounded pleasantly surprised and very pleased.

“She’s a sneaky, filthy little thing. Didn’t I tell you?” The one whose cock you just had in your mouth pre-orgasm asked and the other responded, “You did, I swear I’ll never doubt you again, now go get the lube.” 

You hear him step away, the other continues to prod at the anal plug buried in your ass for a moment before his fingers hook around the base and he slowly starts to remove  it. You hiss slightly at the pull, you had lubed it very well, but that was a long while ago now, he pulls harder and it pops out with relative ease. Breathing a sigh of relief, you hear the heavy steel plug set on the table further down with a minor clank, as well as more footsteps, signalling the return of his friend. 

“Here you go.” 

“Thank you, so-” He takes the lube and you hear the click of the lid open as if for emphasis, “-she’s an admirable cocksucker, isn’t she?”

“Oh yeah, very good, she’s got a nice throat, can take a good pounding.” He sounded gleeful, a sound of agreement rings out before it’s added onto, “You were fucking into it pretty hard for a minute there.” 

So true, he gave it to you rough, your throat will feel a bit raw tomorrow for sure.

“But we still have two other holes to try out, and she was nice enough to start prepping one for us, it’d be rude not to take advantage. Hold her open for me.” 

You feel hands on your ass, spreading you open, and then feel the cold lube pouring down over your tightest hole and in short order, two fingers rubbing around the rim, spreading the cool slippery substance around. You remained relaxed, you weren’t a stranger to anal, you’d done some prep earlier, it wouldn’t take much to get you ready to go. 

“You have a preference?” One asks, and the other responds, “Who says we can’t try both?”

“Elaborate.” One finger begins to slide in, the material of the leather is smooth but still provides some drag, he sinks in to the last knuckle before pulling out, more lube is heaped on before reinserting. 

“Start in her cunt, get a good feel for it, then end in her ass, obviously.” It is said so easily, like it’s unbelievably simple.

“Sure, you are gonna be able to wait me out?” He teases and the other laughs, “Ha! Who says I have to? Once you are in the back, I’ll slide in the front. A whore like her? She can take a dick in each hole, no problem.”

“You are so right! Stupid of me to think otherwise. Too bad we don’t have a third friend for her mouth, could make her airtight.” That thought makes you shiver, fuck.

“Maybe something for the future.” He muses. 

The conversation turns quiet save for the occasional comment from them, or moan from you, as he continues to lube you up and finger your ass open, before you know it you have a second and a third finger buried in you, he was twisting and scissoring them, stretching you wider and wider until he deemed you ready to go. You were excited, very into this and leaking even more, you can’t help it, anal even after all this time, is a major turn on. You had been rocking back into him for a while, moving with him, encouraging him with your deepened breathing and pitched moans, biting your tongue to hold back your begging for more. 

His hands grip your hips and pulls you back towards him, you feel how sticky his fingers are with lube, you feel more alert, recovered from the monstrous orgasm you experienced earlier and ready for more. His hands lift momentarily to slick his cock up, you can hear the wetness of it, your fluttering stomach flat to the table, and his hands are back on you, gripping your hips tighter. You feel it, the hot velvety brush of his cock against you, bumping over your clit, he allows that for a moment, a few passes that makes your breath stutter. You feel next, a hand between you and him, gripping him, “Let me help.”

He assists in dragging the blunt and fat head up through your folds, spreading your ample wetness, adding on further to the slickness already coating him.

“Ready?” It's said quietly, so quietly you aren't sure if you are even meant to hear it, was it meant for you or for him? 

A small hum and a confirmation, asking low, “Stop teasing me.” 

“You're no fun.” It's said light, teasing, ignoring his friend's explicit ask, uttered in such a way it has you questioning just how deep their relationship goes, the true nature of it. 

“Shut up.” The response comes, fond, and with what sounds like a grin. 

He's lined up and he pushes forward, he fills you completely, the hand guiding his shaft into you falls away. You know who is who, now. The one who is buried balls deep in you is Billy, not a single doubt in your mind. The one who was in your mouth first, who threatened you with the knife, who spilled your blood, who edged you into oblivion, made you cum so hard you saw stars and spent ample time fingering your ass open and now was inside you, stretching the walls of your pussy so well, was Billy. He pauses, and Stu, you realize now, asks, “How does she feel?”

Billy sighs, “She's soaked-” He pulls out halfway before thrusting in again, “-and somehow so, so fucking tight.”

He began a slow rhythm, fucking you in earnest, his own breathing behind the mask picking up, that makes more heat flare inside,“You know something feels off.” 

He fucks harder, as if barrelling into your pussy with more strength will reveal the answer he is looking for. His hands are on you as he stills, they start to wander, feeling you, legs, ass, lower back before curling down and his fingers press over your hip and you cry out from him pressing so hard on the cut from earlier. “Oh, that’s what it is! She’s not bleeding anymore.” 

He sounds disappointed.

A beat before Stu responds, “We can fix that.” 

You hear the sound of the previously abandoned blade on the wooden table-top getting pulled up, that distinct schink sound as it is drawn up, “You just focus on fucking her.” 

He comes around the front of you, facing you, looking down and brandishing that knife, he gives a small wave with the steel as if to say, “Hi.” 

Even with his face covered with that mask, you are sure of the look on his face, the playful shit eating grin, eyes alight with mischief.

Billy starts fucking you once more, you moan helpless to resist, brows furrow as the haze of pleasure descends once more and Stu steps closer, the hand not holding the knife reaches down and he cradles your chin. His thumb traces your lips before pressing to your bottom lip, you can smell the leftover juices from when he was fingering you earlier still clinging to the leather. 

“Where should I cut you? Where should I cut you?” He is musing it as if to himself, you know he isn’t asking you. 

You have no say in this. 

He is humming, you can almost feel his eyes moving over your body, currently being rocked from the force of Billy’s thrusts. His hand moves, slips down your throat before tracing your collar bones and then going over your shoulder, strong fingers follow the line of your spine all the way up to the nape of your neck, to where your hair starts. He nods, small, nearly imperceptible and he brings the knife down. The cut isn’t deep, however it is quick, precise, he cuts slightly above where his fingers were pressing, you hiss and clench around Billy’s shaft, making him groan. Honestly, it’s a smart place. Your hair can hide any scar that comes from this easily, he presses harder, squeezes and makes more blood spill and it only has one place to go, down your back. It makes it look much worse than it actually is, the pain isn’t actually the bad, the pleasure is far outweighing it at. 

“How’s that?” Stu asks, and Billy responds easily, “Much fucking better.” 

Billy’s hand reaches up, his fingers smear the blood down your back, his hand lifts only to come back down hard, smacking right on your ass as his hips drive into you the hardest they have all night. Stu’s hand is cradling the back of your neck, pressing down on that wound in time with Billy’s thrusts and the chorus of moans it draws from you are pitched and loud, caught between heaven and hell, pain and pleasure. You inhale through your teeth, musing faintly how thankful you are that all the houses lining the beach are spaced so far apart, some of the moans they have you making would be cause for concern for nearly anyone who overheard your current lustful activities. 

Billy pulls you back as he fucks forward, he tugs you a bit closer, adjusts you slightly and you tense all over. Billy found that same spot he had been practically bullying earlier and you gasped, the pair shared a look over your taut body, shared acknowledgement that he'd locked onto it again. Billy didn't falter, he fucked harder all while staring at Stu, who's fingers were dragging down over your back, smudging and smearing more of your blood as your eyes go hazy and unfocused, consumed with feeling and the slow build of another orgasm.

You push back to meet him and in the process cause Stu to press on the still fresh wound, but just like earlier the pain falls more to the background. 

“Look at this brainless mess, she's on autopilot.” Stu laughed and Billy’s breathing sounds more strained as he asked, “Yeah? Looking cock drunk?”

“Not a thought behind her eyes, all she's focused on is cumming on your cock.” His fingers tangled in your hair near your scalp, he tugs, you wince and Stu asks, “Isn’t that right?” 

You are panting, a nod, the only concern is how your blood is singing, the feeling of intense fire under your skin and keeping this whole experience going, getting as much enjoyment from it as you possibly can. 

“Awe, you're speechless! Is his cock that good? That you have no words?” Considering how close he is already getting you just from his thick shaft splitting you wide and annihilating your cunt for a few short minutes? Yes, he is that good. 

“Not gonna lie-” Billy sighed, the sound again sounds so much better from behind that mask, you clench around him, he pauses briefly, grinding deeply into you before resuming fucking in and out, “-wouldn’t say I’m one for getting pussy drunk but fuck man-” He breaks off in a groan and picks up the pace just a little.

“-this feels fucking in-cred-ible, right?” 

You nod again, agreeing with him wholeheartedly, frantic and dumb as you creep closer to the edge, moaning wordlessly, your walls grasping desperately at his shaft telling on how fantastic this is feeling for you, and when you are roughly fifteen seconds from another brain breaking orgasm, Billy pulls out. You begin making sounds of protest, trying to get yourself together to string together some words to complain, but they are already hard at work again. 

“Help me move her.” Hands are on your biceps, pulling you up and you are being repositioned. You are struggling and putting up a bit of a fight again, they are working you into the configuration they want, you seriously wonder if they talked about it prior or if their non-verbal communication is that strong. Here is how it ends up.

Billy is sitting on the edge of the table, you are in his lap, legs spread wide and hooked over his strong thighs, his hands holding your upper arms so firmly you can't get away. Stu gets on his knees briefly to help Billy lube up extra before he assists lining him up again. You feel the slick tip pressed to your asshole and Stu rises, but his eyes stay locked on where you are about to be joined, he watches intently as the grip loosens and gravity aids in helping you impale yourself on Billy. 

Your hands clenched into fists, you groan as he bounces you up and down a few times, gritting out, “C'mon, open up-” until suddenly he slowly slips inside your tightest hole, once the head pops in he joins you, the mixing sound of pleasure from him and effort from you as you take more and more until at the halfway point he starts to bounce you more vigorously. 

“Was worried it might not fit.” Billy breathed out, and you laugh just as breathlessly, “Me too.”

He is thrusting into you very shallowly, making you take more in small increments as Stu is stroking himself to the picture you both made until finally, fucking finally, he is totally buried in you. 

He is merciful enough to let you take a moment to breathe and get accustomed to him fully inside your ass, but it is only a moment. His hands adjust slightly but remain on your arms, he tugs you up with them and buck his hips up from below to fuck up into you, causing you to choke out, “God-” 

It didn't feel bad at all, but it is an intense sensation, he is very girthy, thank God he put so much effort into the prep earlier or that’d be a different story. Stu could only watch Billy for a minute more before he needed to get in on the action, you had your lips on him far too long ago, he is dying to get inside you again. 

In short order Stu is stepping forward and with the combined height of the table and you on Billy's lap it makes your leaking pussy at the perfect level for him to fuck you too. One hand on your hip and he is nearly flush to you, Billy had stopped moving to allow Stu to get inside of you, and you are confronted with just how imposing they both are when you are in this position, pressed between them, white masks with hollow eyes watching your every move.

The hand that isn't on your hip grips the base of his shaft, the tip drags up through your drenched folds only once before he is nudging up against your grasping hole, his hips press forward with no small amount of force and he eases into you with a harsh inhale through his teeth. “Jesus fucking Christ.” 

Stu isn't quite as thick as Billy, but he is longer, which makes this position easier, to be honest the excess length is what makes this position possible, period. He manages to get about two thirds into you comfortably, his head tipping forward, his breathing laboured behind the mask as he starts to begin a rhythm in earnest. “You are so, soooo much tighter like this-”

The first thing said tonight that didn't fit the true narrative of the role play but no one complains, you are all rather lost in the weeds at the moment, consumed with lust and the only real God that mattered in this house, that of course being the moment, the now, worshipping at the altar of the flesh. 

“Can feel you so easily.” Stu huffs out to Billy, he grinds his hips, his shaft rubbing against Billy’s through the thin wall separating your two holes.

So you weren’t lying to Stu earlier, your stance on threesomes being very pro, especially after this experience, but the threesomes you engaged in were different; they were usually with another woman, another sugar baby or the partner of some client. Sure you’ve had things in both holes at the same time, however never anything as filling as this, nothing close to having a dick in both your pussy and ass at the same time. Now that Stu has a good handle on working himself in and out of your cunt, Billy starts moving again with a throaty groan, responding to Stu's earlier statement, “Can feel you too, man.”

You have never felt more full or more helpless, you couldn’t do much of anything, truly a pliant fuck doll pulled one way and another, pulled up and dropped back down, thrust and ground into. What bliss, having your holes stretched to the limit and lost in the feelings being forced on your body. 

The two men weren't so much as concerned with fucking in and out in that feverish and devastating way you were experiencing earlier, the kind where they pull out almost completely before slamming back in, the current action could be described as more of a firm grind. You quickly come to realize the rutting movements are just as much them seeking pleasure in each other as they are in you, gaining friction from each other as well as the gripping, well lubed and rippling walls of your holes.

The shared moaning and panting between the pair is getting louder, more intense, the dirty talk is fractured and not flowing in as elegant a manner, no full sentences, just short and degrading praise huffed out before breaking out. 

“-her holes are so fuckin’ hungry-” “-leakin’ like a faucet all over us-” “-just listen to her-” “-think she knows how loud she’s being?”

Shit, were you? Tuning in a bit more, you realize that yes you are moaning loudly and pathetically, helpless to stop it from how it all feels. Instead of feeling embarrassment or shame over this fact, you moan.

You aren't sure cumming from this is possible, it feels fucking incredible, but not necessarily in a way that could build towards an orgasm, it feels too overstimulating for that. Furthermore, you feel a strange mix of limp and tense as together they use you, mind blanking out with every jolt of overwhelming pleasure. You are more than aware this isn’t about you, this is about them, their mutual enjoyment, you are a prop for their fantasy and yet, you don’t feel objectified, or bothered, in fact, you find yourself loving every single moment. It feels good to be part of what they have, be privy to this level of closeness, it feels startlingly intimate. You had no idea how much more intimate it was about to get. 

Stu instigates it, his hand is off your hip and coming up, it pushes the bottom of his mask up, exposing the lower half of his face and he reaches out to do the same to Billy, he catches him off guard, you hear the question of, “What are you doi-”

Which is promptly cut off by Stu jerking forward over your shoulder, his mouth capturing Billy’s in a kiss, your eyes go wide as you look up and to the right to watch the frankly filthy looking tongue kiss the pair is engaged in. Billy doesn’t fight it, he moans into it and fucks into you harder. 

It doesn’t last much longer after that. 

Billy cums first, hips stuttering unevenly, choked sounds of pleasure expressed against Stu’s mouth, you think you can make out a curse or two, but you aren’t sure as he gives a few more shallow thrusts as he milks the last vestiges of his orgasm. You are seated fully in Billy’s lap as his chest heaves, slowly trying to recover, his currently still hard cock plugging your ass enough to keep the cum deep inside, something you sure would no longer be the case when he pulled out. 

Stu on the other hand was chasing his orgasm much more aggressively, now without having to try and contend with Billy’s movements he could fully focus on getting his. Stu’s hand is resting on the back of Billy’s neck, he had broken their kiss, lips an inch from his best friend’s, panting out as he ruts into you, “Fuck, fffuck, M’ so close-”

“Do it, come on, fill her up.” The encouragement seems to be what makes it happen, you feel him still, throbbing, the rush of warm as he shudders from the sheer force of how intense it feels. 

The come down takes a good minute, the only sounds are your collective harsh breathing, but when you all catch up they start to move. First things first, the masks come off, Stu face is revealed to you as he fully removes it, tossing it onto the table near the long discarded knife. He grins down at you, hair looking a little sweaty, cheeks a bit flush but eyes as playfully mischievous as ever, he says a soft, “Hey.”

You laugh softly, returning it, “Hey yourself.” Before you lean up and press a kiss to his lips, he returns it for a moment before you feel still gloved fingers trace your jaw, turning your head. Once he has and you are looking at him, you realize Billy had taken his own mask off, his smile has a soft but still smug quality to it as he also repeats the greeting before kissing you for the first time. 

You melt into it, the realization that Billy had fucked every hole you had, cut you, hurt you, caused you to bleed and cum all before you ever kissed running over your brain like liquid fire. Your body responds automatically, clenching on them both, twin small groans pulled from them both as you squeeze their slowly softening dicks still buried in you. The kiss breaks and Billy asks, “When was the last time you came?”

A small laugh as you admit with a shrug, “Just the once, earlier on your fingers.”

He tsks, “Shit, well that’s no good at all Stu, hmm?” Stu nods in agreement, “Not good at all.”

“What’re we gonna do about that?” He asks with a hum and Stu offers, “How about we get her cleaned up, get all the cum and blood off her and then get her off real slow, comfortably?”

Billy’s nose runs up the side of your neck and you sigh out at the feeling and the thought, being freshly clean and in soft bedsheets as they focus on you, devote themselves to getting you off again hard as fuck, “Sounds good.”

“Yeah? Then that’s what we will do, the least we can do to show our appreciation for how good you did tonight.” Stu kissed your forehead and you ask, “Mmm, yeah, I did good?”

“Oh my God, the best.” Billy gushed, he slowly pulled out of you, causing you to gush in turn, Stu pulled out too and the amount of cum that spilled forth was impressive. They finally untied your hands, you rolled your wrists and open and closed your hands, trying to will the feeling back into them, the robe was used to mop up the cum you leaked out onto the table and floor. The robe was caked in now dried blood, it looked totally wrecked, you doubt it could be cleaned but oh well, the sacrifices we make in the pursuit of kink and pleasure, some casualties are meant to be expected. 

You are way too unsteady on your legs to walk, they are constantly trembling, Stu was carrying you upstairs, Billy carrying the ruined robe, knife and masks as he trailed behind. 

Soon the bath was running, you were sitting in the tub as Billy and Stu got out of their costumes, the Ghostface garb was being stripped away and finally he asked the burning question, “So what did you think? Did it live up to the hype?”

Billy scoffed, a fond roll of his eyes, “Is that why you were so quiet on the way up here? Worried what I would say?” 

Stu brushed him off, “Pfft no. Obviously not.” 

He hummed unconvinced, finished taking off his boots he walked over to Stu who was still unlacing, leaning down he kissed him on the forehead and said, “Stu, it was so fucking amazing it makes me wonder why we waited so long.” 

Stu grinned and pushed his friend’s shoulder playfully, “Shut up, yes you do.” He glanced over his shoulder to you reclining in the tub, enjoying the hot water slowly filling the porcelain, relaxing in your now second bath of the night. He finally admitted that Billy was right, that they needed the right person to make this as good as it was, he admits this by saying simply, “We were waiting on her.”

[unapologeticpippin]

Storytime on my ATLA reality (p. 1)

I’m really darn shitty at aesthetics, so buckle up you gorgeous asses, because I’m about to tell you the absolute mess that was my life in Avatar.

So I got inspo from a fanfic that I read a while ago, it’s called “Avatar: the Lost Airbender” on wattpad, although I forgot who the author was.

Anway, the gist of it is that I survived the airbender genocide, and I was in kahoots with Koh the face stealer, who allowed me to remain 16 years old physically until I was able to help the Avatar stop the war. (My hair grew white streaks, though.)

Koh only agreed to do that when I promised to bring him something, which I will not disclose because it’s a bit too personal. I also made a deal with a spirit who so desperately wanted peace.

This spirit amplified my airbending powers in exchange for an oath. I had to seal the oath with my blood. The oath consisted of me having to help the avatar stop the war, or else I’d be crippled for the rest of my life. (Not that I minded being crippled, the Spirit just really wanted leverage)

I was left physically unable to interfere with the plans of the Fire Lord. But of course, I tried anyway. Just to be clear, I only get crippled if I DON’T help Aang stop the war.

I wanted to kill the fire lord. Of course I did. He literally commited GENOCIDE on my people. I was angry, and I wanted revenge. So of course, I snuck into the palace (if “snuck into the palace” meant breaking down the doors and flinging guards away with airbending)

I confronted the Fire Lord, and surprise surprise, I was imprisoned. At the time, the show and comics were never really clear on wether Sozin had a wife or not, so I scripted in a wife for him.

She was pregnant, and took pity on me. She released me from prison. We grew rather close, and she often relied on me for a lot of things. A few months later, she gave birth, and died 3 weeks later. (I was devastated)

Sozin decided to keep me around, and he soon came to trust me. I raised Azulon, and watched how his father manipulated his beliefs. The poor innocent child became corrupted, just like his father.

I was sad, of course. The little kid who I used to chase around the fountain became a monster who I couldn’t recognize anymore. He used to call me “auntie”, smile at me brightly, and ask for my advice. Honestly, I was a bit depressed. But I had to pull through if I wanted to help Aang restore what once was. So I did.

I raised Azulon, Iroh, Ozai, Lu Ten, Zuko, and Azula. Iroh was my favorite little sucker. It was really hard to witness when Lu Ten died. Iroh broke. Of course, I was also emotional because I babysat Lu Ten very often.

I’ll have you know that I tried advising the royals many times that their actions had consequences, and even though I was already considered part of the royal family, they had their own agendas, and were often too stubborn to listen.

About bending

Bending is both very physical and spiritual at the same time. I have multiple ATLA realities which I shift to, so I notice that it feels especially flowy when you’re an airbender or waterbender, but all the bending styles have some type of flow that’s very unique, yk?

When you’re waterbending, it’s like a serene experience, letting the water flow through your body. It’s basically like an extention of yourself.

In airbending, It usually works to deflect, so it’s a lot more defensive than offensive. When airbending, it’s best to melt into the feeling and allow the air to guide you (if that makes sense)

While in earth bending, you really have to have a solid form. Stiff like a rock, but still a bit lenient toward your movements. Other bending styles are usually more light footed, but as an earth bender, you have to stand firm. And it feels a lot more like kapow kachow rather than flowy flowy.

Concerning fire bending, it’s really like sudden bursts of energy, but in reality, you have to regulate the energy inside of you. Fire benders are very precise.

Okay this is probably too long, Lmk if you guys want part 2 (if you even cared to read this 😭)

Ty for the request, darling @a-fish-learningtowalk I’ve been DYING to talk about the other realities I live in 😭

[sonknuxadow]

ok. time for a bonus episode to the archiesonicposting saga. a little over a year later

[softgrungeprophet]

all this context required for kaine et al in this AU so instead of novelizing a bunch of comics with major tweaks, I just have a document with a bunch of random out of context scenes

[yueebby]

sooo i read your "indulge me?" piece and that's why i wanted to ask for gojo simping for reader that doesn't really seem him as more as a friend and he's fine with it (lol he's not but he's need to keep the facade you know???) hope you write it at some point! btw loving you writing so far <333

11:34pm — gojo satoru

contents. highschool!gojo, fluff, he’s so in love bye, underage drinking, tokyo and kyoto students have a little get together!

“what’s wrong with him?” utahime watches her white haired underclassman down another can of beer. it was rare to see gojo drinking with the rest of the group, always opting for a soda instead.

shoko takes another swig out of her drink, unsurprised. “[name] is on a date.” 

a pathetic groan leaves gojo’s lips and the upper half of his body is splayed over the kotatsu in shoko’s room, sunglasses long forgotten somewhere. he lets out an unapologetic burp. everyone at the table spares him a glance of pity. 

utahime grimaces and mutters a quiet, “gross”. 

“don’t provoke him,” geto scolds shoko, flicking some ash from his cigarette to the ashtray below. “she’s just dealing with clan matters. arranged marriages and whatnot.” he used his free hand to land a firm pat on gojo’s back. what kind of best friend would he be if he didn’t try to comfort satoru? 

“poor thing. i can keep you company in the meantime,” mei mei’s smile is far from something with good intentions. gojo shakes his head to refuse, but with the way his forehead was pressed to the table, it looked comical. like a child throwing a tantrum. 

the only thing that managed to get gojo satoru out of his drunken slump was a soft knock on the door. he could recognize that pattern anywhere. could it be���? the snow haired boy immediately perks up. his drunk dazed eyes brighten as he quickly makes his way to the door. 

geto snorts at the way his best friend reacts. he thinks he can see an imaginary tail wagging, as if he were a dog. 

“you’re late!” gojo accuses you when he opens the door. you blink.

“are you…okay?” your voice is laced with concern as gojo’s large frame towers over you. gojo preens.

“awww, is my [name] worried about me now? don’t worry, ‘m doing just fine!” there is a goofy grin painted on gojo’s face as he leans against the doorway. all conversation has stopped and every sorcerer was listening attentively to gojo's hopeless conversation with you. utahime can’t help but feel just a little compassion for the boy. he was pining so much it hurt.

“i wasn’t worried. it's just that your words are all slurred– don’t tell me you let shoko talk you into drinking with her again?” you sigh. it was hard to miss the smell of beer on him. gojo and alcohol never mixed well, and the last thing you needed tonight was another lecture from yaga. 

from inside her room, shoko shouts, “it wasn’t me this time! the idiot decided to drown himself in beer after we warned him not to!” it was common knowledge that gojo couldn’t handle his alcohol. 

the male in question pouts.

“can a man not grieve about the love of his life being married to another?” gojo deflates. on the other side of the threshold, you wrinkle your nose.

“who said anything about marriage? like hell i’m going to accept a proposal from naoya zen’in.” you grumble. it had been a long night. dealing with your family and naoya was enough to scare you into staying in jujutsu tech for good. you’d rather lose your sanity to gojo than your dignity to naoya. 

“never mind that though, are mei mei and utahime still here? i was hoping to catch up with them!” you smile, crouching under his arm to make your way into the room. gojo doesn’t hesitate to trail right behind you. 

“[name]!” utahime waves happily at you, her mood no longer sour after she sees you. your wave back is enthusiastic. mei mei acknowledges your presence.

“how was dinner with naoya?” suguru asks. your face pinches up. he laughs before handing you a cold can of soda which you accept graciously.

you hear gojo mutter to himself from behind you.

“what’s up with him?” you whisper to suguru.

“you know how he is when he drinks,” he sighs, ushering you to sit beside him. gojo seemed to have his own agenda though, forcefully squeezing himself between the two of you. you shoot him an annoyed look to which he responds with a grin on his face. 

“‘m tired,” he whines, stretching his arms dramatically while letting out a loud yawn. you grunt when there’s a heavy weight on you; gojo has thrown his entire body on your side.

you don’t bother pushing him off. you’ve learned in the two years you’ve known gojo that he is like a baby when he gets drunk. it’s best if you let him have his way.

“go to sleep then, idiot,” you flick his forehead. he juts his bottom lip childishly, looking up at you with wide eyes. his eyes are captivating and you think you see nervousness through those azure orbs.

“will you come to bed with me too?” he rests his chin on your shoulder. you raise an eyebrow in surprise.

“eh? why would i?”

“because i’m cute.” gojo bats those long eyelashes of his innocently. you roll your eyes playfully before taking another sip out of your soda. 

“you’re weird– that’s what you are.” your lips quirk upward, eyes twinkling with mirth. he sulks, chin still comfortably supported by your shoulder.

“‘m not that bad!” he protests, a frown forming on his lips. you look at him for a long moment. this was the first time you’ve ever gotten to look at gojo this closely. 

his hair was getting longer, you note silently. with your free hand, you slowly move a strand of hair out of his face. gojo watches you earnestly. if his cheeks were not already flushed, they are now. 

“can we stop it with the flirting? let us single folk live in peace.” shoko speaks up. you turn your attention hastily from gojo to the rest of your fellow peers. 

“i feel like i’m intruding on something,” mei mei says scandalously. your eyes widen.

“we are not– no way!” you shake your head repeatedly. no one believes you. especially not while gojo is still resting on your shoulder, eyes watching you, full of love.

“stop giving him all your attention and talk to us! we’re much better company,” utahime scowls, pointing her beer disapprovingly at the white haired boy on you. you think you hear gojo grunt.

“alright, alright,” you concede. 

“i hope you don’t mind me asking again, but do tell us how your night with the zen’in kid went,” suguru snickers. you groan exasperatedly.

“where do i even start?”

the rest of the night goes by pleasantly. you had been so engrossed with retelling your experience with dealing with your family that you had failed to notice what gojo was up to. by the time everyone left their respective dorms (or temporary dorms), you noticed the head of white hair sleeping soundly on your lap.

he mumbles something in his sleep, nuzzling himself closer into your stomach. cute. you giggle at how innocent he looks. 

you don’t know what took over you, but you remember bending down and placing a soft kiss on his forehead. to your surprise, gojo reciprocates your kiss. to the best of his capabilities anyway. you watch as he puckers his lips in his sleep. oh my– how precious.

you suppose he isn't so bad.

notes. THANK U FOR BEING MY FIRST ANON ASK. ily!!! i saw somewhere that gege confirmed gojo would have drunken failures when he was a student haha this is my take on that. hes so bf

also thank you for all the support on my first post?!? you guys are too sweet im crying. i literally giggle and kick my feet reading your feedback ><

[fox-guardian]

[ID: An eight page digital comic featuring Sam, Celia, and Alice from The Magnus Protocol on a gray background. The characters are all colored with a single color each. Sam is red, Celia is green, and Alice is pink. Sam is a fat Arab man with short curly dark hair, a mustache, and a small goatee, and he is wearing small black earrings, a cardigan, a turtleneck, trousers and loafers. Celia is a taller Korean woman with short dark hair and she is wearing rectangular glasses, piercings including an industrial piercing, an x-shaped earring, and snakebites, a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a vest, trousers, and black wrist cuffs. Alice is an even taller white woman with long fluffy hair and crooked teeth, and she is wearing cat eye glasses, three pairs of earrings, snakebites, a flannel shirt, a hoodie tied around her waist, a patchwork skirt, bracelets, and a lanyard.

Sam and Celia are stood at a table covered in papers. Celia urgently turns to Sam. Celia: Alice is coming! She can't catch us researching, we need a diversion, QUICK! How can we make her think we're not doing what we're doing? Sam, shrugging really hard: UHHHH she thinks I have a crush on you?? Celia, sweating, turns back to where Alice is coming from, panicked, and turns back to Sam, shrugging and reaching for him. Celia smiling a bit manically: Yeah, that'll work, sure!

Sam, with Celia's hands grabbing his cardigan: Wait whaAAAA- He is pulled out of frame. Alice walks in: Hey Sam, working hard or hardly woOOOAA She leans on the doorframe as she holds a hand to her chest in shock.

The next panel is rendered with soft pink shadows and "shoujo sparkles" in the now pink background. Sam is sitting on the table holding onto Celia, whose face is buried in his neck as she wraps one arm around his back and the other holds up one of his legs under his knee. Neither of their faces are visible. The rest of the page fades back to gray from there. Sam and Celia look over at Alice, hair ruffled, Sam is now blushing. Sam: ALICE!! He pushes Celia away and they look at each other for a moment, panicked. Sam: It's- .... exactly what it looks like! Celia: Aw, you've caught us! He rests his hands on her shoulders and they both look in opposite directions as though embarrassed. Celia is also blushing lightly. There are red and green neon signs pointing to them reading "Totally Ham-Slammin'" and "GAY! (in an M/F way)" respectively.

Alice looks to be in shock with a vacant expression and a computer pop up over her forehead reading "Alice.exe has stopped responding". In the next panel she is fine again and back to smirking. Alice: WOW SAM, didn't know you had it in you! Now I'm no snitch, so I didn't see anything, BUT- you lovebirds should cut it out before Gwen catches you. Celia and Sam look at each other anxiously, cheeks pressed together as she speaks. Alice: You KNOW she'd tell Lena. Celia, pulling back and smoothing her hair out: Oh, for sure. Sam: Th-Thanks, Alice. Alice: Don't mention it! I'll give you crazy kids a minute to straighten up, TA-TA~ She waves as she leaves.

Sam and Celia listen to her steps fade before going "phew" and finally pulling away from each other, now holding hands at an arms distance. Celia: You alright? That was kinda sudden.... Sam: It's fine! Just a bit caught off guard. Celia: I can't believe she actually bought all of that! Sam: Me either! Works for me, though.

Celia: Did you want to get down- Sam, pulling away suddenly, blushing again: NO! He crosses his legs and looks away sheepishly, scratching his head. Sam: I wanna stay here another minute or so.... Celia, concerned: You sure you're alright? Sam: Yeah! Just, er.... Celia looks at him, confused. Sam, blushing increasingly harder: Ahem. (He folds his hands in his lap politely.) I am not immune to being thrown on a table. Celia, smiling and politely stepping away: AH! .... Noted~

She walks away casually, still smiling. Celia: I'll give you a minute to collect yourself. Sam, head down in his lap, embarrassed: Thanks.... He looks up after she leaves. Sam: Wait. He straightens up, slightly panicked, face entirely red. Sam: What do you mean by "NOTED"?!

end ID]

~~~~

i am SO glad this episode didn't entirely debunk the silly headcanon that birthed this comic. initially i wasn't convinced sam actually had a crush so i made this like "well if he didn't before, HE DOES NOW" so.... here's this silly comic thing <3 i just think they're neat <3

[prongsx]

who are your boyfriend?

Even though you talk a lot about your sweet boyfriend, people don't understand the sign.

Warnins: English is not my first language, there will probably be mistakes, I'm more grammatically correct in my language I swear lol, f!reader, just a silly idea I had.

You're a person who talks a lot about your boyfriend, not that it's your intention to show him off or look like you're obsessed with him (maybe a little), but still, it seems inevitable to quote Jason Todd in your social circles, especially in the work.

It's a good work environment, your colleagues are nice, and you like to be communicative. However, the new co-worker, Adam, seems to be a little too friendly, your colleagues have already noticed this, but you dont notice this, lost in your own thoughts about your boyfriend.

The thing is, Adam has concluded that your boyfriend is an idiot, he listens to you talking about him, and the only conclusion he can draw is that you're dating a stupid nerd who lives in his mother's basement. It started weeks ago when you arrived with a jar of colorful cookies, offering it to your colleagues with a silly smile and saying.

"Jaybean did, does anyone want it? It's his grandfather's recipe"

Adam laughed internally at that. It wasn't right, you were too pretty to date such a weird guy who was definitely supposed to be short, skinny and silly, what kind of man cooked colored cookies? Or even worse, let yourself be called a "jaybean"?

The next day, he overheard you talking to your friend, in a worried tone, about how your boyfriend was about having physically fought with his younger brother, which only added to the comical image Adam had of his boyfriend. Definitely the guy was a banana. What kind of guy would let his little brother hit him?

Around the football season, Adam decided to show you what a real man was and ask you out, showing you the tickets he got. He called you a doll, which you registered with a slight frown.

"um, thanks Adam, but my boyfriend doesn't like football very much. And this week we're going to an arts fair in New York."

Adam let out a stilted giggle that you didn't seem to notice, the thoughts of him again calling your boyfriend stupid. Seriously, art fair? Didn't like sports?

There were other, clearer signs of how pathetic your boyfriend was, according to Adam, like when you commented that he had sewn a blouse of yours. (you didn't say that Jaosn's talent with sewing came from the fact that he sewed his battle wounds himself). Or when you called him cute nicknames.

Adam wanted to show you what he really wanted to date a guy, a real man, who had muscuslos and knew how to beat someone to protect you.

The fuse for Adam was when he approached your desk and saw a book by Jane Austen and asked, avoiding making a face at such a syrupy book.

"Do you like classics, doll?"

You looked up from the computer where you typed, a slight smile on your lips as you stared at the book brevmenete.

"A little. My boyfriend likes it, so I promised I'd try to read it. I prefer fiction books"

Adam's face drooped, you were really dating a stupid guy, you deserved to meet a real man. He rested his hands on your desk and puffed out his chest.

"You know, doll, you can get more."

You blinked your eyes limply, confused.

"Excuse me?"

"There are men… for real."

There was an arrogant smile on Adam, which you didn't like, not at all. Your posture became tense, prepared to reject him, by hook or by crook. But a voice, hoarse and thick, woke you both from the uncomfortable exchange of looks.

"Am I getting in the way?"

Adam turned, his eyes narrowing at the sight. There was a tall guy, much taller than himself, who even in a leather jacket could see his muscles. The guy had messy black hair and scars that gave him a tough look, even his blue eyes seemed like a warning, a warning to stay away. Adam was about to ask what he was doing there when your voice came out loud and contented.

"Jaybird!"

Adam stood still, his mouth wide open as that intimidating man gave you a soft smile and squeezed your waist, a chaste kiss on the forehead. By no means was that guy stupid of your boyfriend.

"That's adam," you said, a half-annoyed expression on my face, which softened when she turned her eyes to Jason.

Jason just gave Adam a suspicious look, not bothering to spend time with him before grabbing your bag and giving you another kiss on the cheek, whispering.

"Ready to go, honey?"

You nodded, smiling. Saying goodbye with a slight nod to Adam, as you told for your sweet, gentle boyfriend about your day, whose acts were what really drew you in.

Just a silly thing I thought about while analyzing the things that betrayed me about Jason. Adam is just one of those guys who think women are attracted to things that – they – think should attract them. Jason is just a grandpa's little boy who has learned how to be a gentleman right under that rough surface.

[moonstruckdraws]

The Changes Through Time

And my project is finish! My gift to the CAS series and @somerandomdudelmao! (This is technically supposed to be for the 1 year anniversary of CAS, but I don't have the time to post it on the 12th and I don't understand the queue system lol)

I deeply love this series as I have made fanart for it before several times and honestly it really improved my art. Cass is also an amazing creator and I look forward to anything they post in the future.

(A bit of a spiel about the illustrations from this point on)

I was honestly going to go for more of a tarot card style with boarders and everything, but as I was composing the 1st illustration, I ditched the idea and just when for simple text. The third image (like how tarot cards read the past, present/current, & future) was going to be the present, but honestly I was confused enough trying to decide which illustration was the past & future with the first two. Plus the "current" state of the story doesn't have much significance yet (and references of them aren't made because it's generally their other outfits) so I went with their spirits!

1st illustration: Representing the start of it all with the current state of all the characters. Of course we didn't know the condition of Raph in the beginning, but since he remained static until Casey found him I believe it's safe to assume that he was in that state the whole time. This illustration is unfortunately my least favorite because it's not rendered the same as the others, due to it being the first fully rendered image I've done in a while. But oh well, I still like it for the most part.

2nd illustration: Representing all of the turtles resurrections with a group hug. Not much else to note about the meaning other than the fact that I almost gave Leo an arm that he does not have. This one was also the greatest to render as I had the most fun with the bright colors. This one is definitely my favorite.

3rd illustration: Representing the turtles spirits when they were dead. Though the last one was the best to render, this one was the best to compose as a whole. Mikey and Donnie were the easiest to do since their broken states were shown in the comic, but with Raph and Leo I had to be a bit creative. With Raph I wanted to show the lack of his senses due to being in a robot for a long time and everything being subconscious. It's not as strongly detailed as the others, but he did have the most stable conditions compared to the rest of his brothers. With Leo I wanted to display his lack of self physically. Since he was fading away, at first, I wanted his spirit to be more faded and weaker compared to the rest.

Nothing else to be said that wasn't said before, but I am very glad that I started reading CAS. I've never felt more invested and moved by a fanmade comic before, so this experience is actually life changing for me. And seeing others fanart for it only inspired me! I am truly amazed by Cass and this series. Happy early 1 year anniversary

[knavesflames]

Anon: [Virgin reader who has Arle convinced she’s not a virgin and Arle realizes this mid-foreplay]

Hello 😧 I’m back with this. This time I believe I’ve read it correctly!! I made this one a bit longer for the inconvenience HAHAHA, either way, I hope you enjoy it now if you see this anon.

Word count: 1428

Contents: fingering, arlecchino being a lil tipsy, soft

Nsft utc!

You seem to realise about a year into your relationship that maybe you should have given up the lie. You’re not experienced, and if anything, you’re the complete opposite. You’ve barely kissed anyone. Arlecchino counts, obviously, but you’ve only kissed her and you’ve been lucky enough to worm your way out of sex and conversations about it every time.

Arlecchino is a busy woman, is she not? She is often away in Fontaine, or Sumeru, or Archons knows where else, it’s not exactly like she has time. Does it stop the murmured apologies spilling from her lips? No. Does it bother you? Also no. If anything, you’re worried for the day she figures it out. You shouldn’t have lied, you know this, but when the chance of being Arlecchino’s arose, you didn’t want her to come up with any reason to backtrack. So, you lied. Arlecchino is.. incredibly experienced, to say the least. You’ve heard the way the girls talk about The Knave in the town. How, way before you, she would go through three girls a night, at the same time, and none of them could think straight for the next week. You have no doubts she’d be gentle with you, and yet..

You don’t want to disappoint her. It isn’t that you don’t want to have sex, more that you’re worried you won’t be enough for her, you won’t be able to make her feel good (and that you’re nervous about your own pleasure).

So, what a shame (and a blessing) when she comes home tipsy after a Fatui gathering. You want to have sex with her so bad, so bad, in fact, you can feel it, and you wonder if this is the perfect time. She’s tipsy, she may not remember, and then you’re not really lying, are you?

It doesn’t seem to work out that way for you, though. Her kisses are as soft as always, but hungrier as she leads you towards the bedroom. Her hand is firm around your waist as she lowers you onto the bed, your satin nightdress billowing around you. You hear a small grunt as she flops down next to you before her lips meet yours again. Gracious when she’s tipsy, she is not. It’s almost comical, and you’d laugh if your head wasn’t running wild. Your hands move to remove her shirt, which is easy enough when she moves with you to help it along.

Mumbles of how good you smell and how tipsy she is leaves her lips and you manage to snicker in all your nervousness. The sound is quickly cut short by a sharp intake of breath when her fingers begin dancing up your thigh, your heart pounding more than it would, had you been experienced like you claim you are. Nevertheless, your own hands work their way under the waistband of her underwear, clumsily finding their way to where you’ve imagined touching her. You become lost in your thoughts, completely affected by the way you have to pretend you know what you’re doing, to the point you don’t even realise when she’s whispering your name softly.

Arlecchino’s eyebrows furrow and she uncharacteristically giggles as you try to find your way between her folds. It’s so clumsy, it’s almost like you haven’t done this before, and you’re the sober one. She studies you a little more, the way your lip is caught between your teeth, your breath a mix of nervousness and desire, and then it clicks. Her fingers wrap around your wrist, gently dragging your hand out of her underwear before her head rests on your shoulder.

“You haven’t done this before,” she murmurs as her lips graze against your neck. “Why did you lie?”

“I have!” You’re so quick to protest against her words, but to her, it’s just proving her point. With a soft sigh, she moves you on top of her so you can’t look away. You can tell in Arlecchino’s eyes she’s sobered up, at least a little.

“I mean this with a lot of affection, dear, but you can’t find the clitoris, and I am the drunk one.”

With a groan, you hide your face between her breasts in an attempt to conceal the heat on your cheeks. Her charred fingers move to your hair, carding through the strands as she questions you, her usually stern voice just a little softer.

“Do you want to, or are you agreeing because of me? Lie and I won’t be pleased.”

“I want to, I’m nervous.”

A low rumble leaves her throat, almost her usual laugh, and somehow more tipsy than the giggle she let out earlier. She flips the position, satisfied when she towers over you. “Then let me take care of you,” she whispers huskily against the shell of your ear. “I’ll show you how it works.”

Her eyebrow quirks, her red crosses piercing into your own irises as she waits for an answer. You pay attention the way your heart speeds up in pure excitement, and your body betrays any words that could leave your lips when you nod. You hear a hum leave Arlecchino’s mouth before her hands travel again, moving inside of the nightdress you so often wear. With your fingers twitching, you move under her waistband again, only for your hand to be gently pushed out.

“You tonight. Relax, I’ll make it nice.”

Your back instinctively arches when the pad of her thumb presses against your clit, your eyes closing as a shaky breath leaves your mouth. Her thumb pulls back quickly after, inspecting the newly achieved glisten on her skin. “So wet already,” she muses, locking her eyes on you as her thumb disappears beyond her lips. “You taste good, too.”

You make a noise that could only be described as a small whine in response. A whine of what, embarrassment? Arousal? You don’t know. Arlecchino does. Her thumb leaves her mouth with a pop before it meets the nerve bundle again, rubbing small, gentle circles to relax you. And relax you, it does, small noises of appreciation escaping you every so often.

“Ready?” She smirks against your cheek when you nod, making sure your lips are right next to her ear when she slides her finger inside of you, a shudder going down her spine at the delicious noise you made. Waiting until you’re comfortable, the finger stays unmoving until your hips buck up, initiating movement. It’s a slow rhythm, every pump and curl drawing out mewls and whines as your hands move to clutch at any part of her you can. One ends up around her shoulders, the other intertwined with her free hand.

“It’s okay,” she mumbles through her own heavy breath, clearly affected by your sounds and the movements of your hips against her middle finger. “Breathe, keep moving, keep making those pretty little sounds for me.”

Arlecchino’s words are punctuated by a particularly good curl and a small massage to the spongy spot inside of you, her own groan sounding in your ear when you flutter around her finger. “You’re so pretty. So pretty, and all mine, and I get to take you. Archons—“

The words are cut off by another groan, one that was clearly repressed for a few seconds. She isn’t even being touched, and somehow she’s receiving pleasure just from your own reactions. Either she’s desperate, or you just affect her that much. Her digits continue the movement, taking care to not scratch you with the nails she prides herself on, pressing and curling and pumping slowly until your whines are desperate and your walls are clenching against her.

“I know, baby, I know. Let it happen, hm? Remember to breathe. Good girl, you’re so good for me, aren’t you?” She breathes, smirking at your response (which is in fact, just another whimper). You feel it building and building until you feel like your skin is on fire and you’re about to explode, and then your back arches, your eyes shooting open as your hand tightens around hers. Your hips jerk up erratically, and she presses kisses to your forehead when you ride the high she’s so happy to have given you.

When you finally come down, able to make sense of the world around you, she chuckles, a low, velvety chuckle, making use of your nails to create goosebumps on your skin as she lazily drags them over your arm. “I was nice tonight, but if you ever lie to me about something as important as this again, I will not be as kind. Understand?”

[bigification]

Star Of The Show

"Is that really safe?" A snobbish man in an expensive suit snarled.

"Yes Mr. Derry, how many times do I have to tell you. It'll make you into a prime bodybuilder just like you asked." The technician sighed.

"It better be, because I am an important stake holder in this bodybuilding competition and I paid a lot for this." Mr. Derry continued to whine, despite receiving exactly what he asked for.

"Here I brought your coffee, sir." Mr. Derry's assistant sheepishly held out a Starbucks coffee. He grumbled as he read the long list of modifications he needed in his coffee to drink it.

"This has coconut milk you idiot!" He shoved the coffee back into his assistant, sending the scrawny man stumbling back. In an attempt to regain his balance he flailed his arm into the large machine that sat nearby.

"I... I'm sorry sir." The assistant panicked. "I can fix it." He reached for the machine in an attempt to minimize the blowback from his boss. He tried to move the machine back to its original position.

"Wait no! Don't tou-" the technician was interrupted.

A blinding light erupted across the back stage as a concentrated beam shot into the assistants chest. He looked like a ragdoll being tossed across the room, slamming into the wall. No one even noticed what had happened while they tried to recover from the flash.

The assistant slowly got up, his head was spinning. He assumed it was from the crash into the wall, but it only got worse after he got up. A burning heat boiled inside his chest as he attempted to recover. The burning soon turned to a tightness as his chest began to grow. His flat chest started to rise like a loaf of bread in the oven. His preppy button up strained under the pressure of his thickening pecs until the buttons started to pop off. His shirt burst open, revealing the perfectly formed pecs of a bodybuilder that created a shelf over his stomach. Speaking of which, his stomach began to melt away. His now flat stomach quickly rose back up, but with hard muscles this time. His stomach started to round out into a small muscle gut as six distinct muscles formed over it, causing the rest of his buttons to pop off in the process.

The technician and Mr. Derry were starting to recover from the flash, hearing increasingly loud footsteps rumbled from across the room and ever deeper sounding grunts and moans came from the assistant.

The assistant lurched over as his shoulder broadened, finally ripping his shirt to shreds. His upper back exploded with rippling muscles that would make any man jealous. And his lower back slimmed to give his body a strong V shape. Moments later he started to flex his arms, making them balloon with every flex. His biceps grew to the size of melons as veins surfaced all down his arms. And his hands thickened into massive man hands, twice the size of his old delicate hands.

Mr. Derry let out a loud scoff as he watched the assistant transform into the man he wanted to be. And the technician just smiled at Me. Derry's dismay. Meanwhile the assistant started to let out deep guttural moans pleasure as his body grew, and animalistic grunts every time he flexed his growing body.

Next, the man's lower body started to grow, making him nearly a foot taller than he was before, towering over everyone in the building. His thighs thickened to over twice the size of his massive biceps, making him have the man spread to make room for all the muscle. Unsurprisingly it didn't take long for his pants to rip to shreds, leaving him in his comically small underwear. Though that wouldn't last long either. His flat ass got flooded with both fat and muscle, making it large and plump and creating a shelf over his thighs. His fat ass strained against the shockingly strong fabric of the underwear before overpowering them, bouncing as his cheeks tore right through them. His calves also grew quite thick and defined as his feet burst out of his shoes, becoming a monstrous size 20. Though the only downside is his impressive package shrunk from a massive 8 inches to an unremarkable 4 inches, looking small in comparison to his hulking body.

Finally the man's head began to change to match his body. His barely visible jawline looked like it got vacuum sealed around his jaw, becoming sharp as a knife. His brow bone became more prominent, adding to his manly appearance as a well kept beard spreads across his face. And his long flowy hair recedes into a military buzz cut.

By the time the transformation slowed, his skin had a bronze tanned color with a slick sheen of oil over it. Almost as if he was getting ready to compete.

"You fucking idiot. Look at the mess you've made. You need to clean this up ASAP, and you better hope that machine has some juice left for me or so help me god I will bury you six feet under Edward!" Mr. Derry blew up with rage, it almost looked like there was smoke coming from his ears.

The assistant stood up tall with his head up and his chest puffed out. Slowly taking steps towards his boss, making the ground shake with each step. As he got close, his brows furrowed and his grunt became deeper and louder. He bent down and yanked his boss by the collar, lifting the shorter man a foot off the ground to meet eye to eye.

"You think I need a fucking pipsqueak like you! You're nothing but a bug to step on. And my name is Evan, asshole! Remember it!" Evans voice booked across the room as he chuckled his former boss into the machine, breaking it in the process.

He stomped across the room and grabbed a black pair of underwear from the rack. Then he proceeded to waltz on stage, stealing the hearts of the audience.

Evan was the star of the show, winning an easy first place. Photoshoots, magazine covers, and sponsors were all he saw in his future. And he never saw his loser of a boss again.

[celaenaeiln]

Hiii, how are you? I’m new in the Batman fandom, but i saw a lot of people saying that Jason is actually Batman’s favorite child, and when i was reading the comics, i really though that Dick is Bruce absolute favorite, but i saw a lot of posts here on tumblr of the fandom saying is actually Jason and that the batkids all know its Jason, but i don’t know what is canon and what is fanon (quite honestly when it comes about the batfam i don’t like a lot about the fanon version 😭), so i wanted to ask you about it

And sorry if i said something wrong, english is not my first language

Hi and no worries at all!!

Yeah, canonically Dick is Bruce's favorite by a LONG shot and canonically the batkids all know this.

Infinite Crisis Issue #3

It's says right here in the comics. Really explicitly. But not only that, time and time again, there is clear evidence of Bruce's preferential treatment of Dick over the rest of the batkids.

One time the batboys and Bruce are searching for a guy that kinda is using the Gotham criminals as his subjects. So what they decide to do is split up to narrow him down.

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1057

But they run into issues because the villains chose a 'divide and conquer strategy"

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1057

Bruce gets swept away! Because of a carefully planned trap. But do you what he does the second he wakes up?

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1058

JDAKFA;BFJALEC

BRUCE LITERALLY WENT: "I love Dick and all the other not-Dicks equally" !!!!!

As if that's not enough, Bruce's biggest fear is that he's not good enough for Dick.

Bruce's fear about Dick-

Batman vs Robin Issue #3

because he believes this -

vs

Bruce's fear about Jason -

Batman vs Robin Issue #3

because he believed he failed to do this -

Batman: Hush

Reminder: Joe Chill is Martha and Thomas Wayne's killer. Enough said.

If you want to be even more explicit about Bruce's preference for Dick over Jason it can't be clearer than here:

Bruce reflects on Jason's Robin tenure -

Batman (1940) Issue #428

Something a lot of people don't know/refuse to acknowledge is that Jason canonically did have anger issues. There aren't a lot of parallels between Jason and Dick but one particular thing that DC points out is that Jason and Dick both lost their beloved fathers. The difference is that Dick was able to move on and become cheerful even if he didn't get revenge. Jason wasn't able to get over the loss of his father and became angry. UTRH makes a specific point of talking about this too.

Batman (1940) Issue #645 "He knew that Jason Todd was NOT Dick Grayson."

Do you remember why Jason became Robin?

Batman (1940) Issue #416

Bruce wanted Dick. He took in Jason in replacement for Dick. But Jason was not Dick and even on the day he died, all Bruce could think of was that taking in Jason was a mistake.

The batkids are well aware of this. Damian actually calls Jason Bruce's mistake too when he's recounting the story of the robins.

Here's what he says -

Batman (1940) Issue #713

That's Damian's retelling. Tim's is even worse -

A Lonely Place of Dying

Ouch.

Truthfully Jason is like Bruce's 4th favorite. In order of how much Bruce loves his kids it goes:

Dick

Damian

Cass

Jason/Tim (tie)

Tim/Jason (tie)

Steph

I think there's so much confusion about Jason supposedly being the favorite because Bruce grieved over Jason's that but I think a lot of people are conflating grief and self-blame with love. There have been two significant deaths in the family: Jason and Damian. If you look at how Bruce reacted in each aftermath, it becomes clear that he loves Damian more than he loved Jason.

After Jason's death:

Batman (1940) Issue #429

Batman (1940) Issue #431

After Damian's death:

Batman and Robin (2011) Issue #21

Batman and Robin (2011) Issue #20

He would forcefully make Jason relive the worst day of his life so that his other son could enjoy his.

Bruce's behavior after Jason's death was self-destructive and isolative but his behavior after Damian's death was to beat bloodly every single criminal. His reasoning for beating Dick after Jason's death was "Jason was your replacement. If you hadn't left I wouldn't have had to take him in and he wouldn't have died." His reason for beating Jason after Damian's death was "Your trauma matters so little to mean that all I want is Damian to live again and I couldn't care less about how you feel."

In summary, Jason wasn't Bruce's favorite either as Robin or as an adult. But even if it's not Dick, claiming that Jason is the favorite is so far off that no one is DC would remotely believe it. You would think there would be more analysis on Damian's death in comparison to Jason's because they were two big official deaths but I guess not for some reason. I ran out of image space but yeah there's more than just this overall. This isn't to say that Bruce doesn't love Jason. NO! He very much loves him. But he just doesn't love him the most.

On a different note - coming from someone who went from TT show to YJ to fanfic AND THEN reading comics, I've had relearn a lot about each of the characters. But for people still in the process of transitioning from fanfic to comics or just in the fanfic stage, general rule of thumb when it comes to batfamily content - NEVER trust what people say if they don't provide the evidence for it. People in this fandom are so wild that they'll have you believing the earth is the center of the universe, that you'll fall off the world if you go too far left or right, and that pigs can fly.

[jayke0]

A Pleasant Surprise

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem reader

Summary: Steven has had something on his mind for a while now, and finally he divulges his fantasy to you; degrading was certainly not on your playing cards.

Rating: nsfw, smut

Warnings/Content: sub!Steven, dom!reader, “mommy” title, degrading, grinding, cumming in pants, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).

Word count: 1,441

Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.

………......................…………………………………….

When Steven had come to you with a “fun idea”, you'd expected something along the lines of ”naive uni teacher gets fucked by his student”, but this was so much better.

“Love? I have a, uh…suggestion,” Steven calls from the bathroom between brushing his teeth. “Well, it's more of a proposal, really.”

“Yeah? Go on.” You're sitting in your bedroom reading some gruesome crime novel that Marc seems to have a real distaste for.

You hear the water running briefly before your boyfriend joins you in the room, warm morning sun streaming in through the cracked curtains and casting a soft glow over his face. “I mean, we don't have to do it now of course. I know you're reading and all that, and I have to get to work in a bit–.”

You close your book and pat the edge of the bed, making him instantly respond to your gesture by placing himself down. “I'm all ears, sweetheart, lay it on me.”

Blood rushes to Steven's face as he actually thinks about saying it outloud, feet shuffling a little on the creaky floorboards. The words feel stuck in his throat now that he has to speak them, despite the fact he'd thought about the whole image on numerous occasions... and in great detail.

“Heeyy c’mon,” your hand brushes his arm, and you move closer to him to wrap your arms fully around his, crinkling his blue floral shirt. “You know I can't read your mind, Steven… Though I wish I could, that'd be super fucking helpful, then the other two couldn't lie to me.”

His chuckle makes you smile and you feel him draw in a long breath.

”I wanna like… grind against you… and I want you to mock me for it, u-until I cum… in my trousers…”

The pauses between his words are almost comical, but you look up at his face and see that he's completely serious, looking at you with wide eyes and waiting for an answer.

“Oh! Right.”

“Ah, Gods! No no... no no no no no, forget it–.” He frantically shakes his head, his hands doing the same as his face scrunches. “It's weird, I'm sorry, pretend I never said anything. Me and my big bloody mouth.”

“Steven,” you say between giggles, hand resting on his soft face to pull his gaze towards you. “It's not weird, silly! I just didn't expect you to be the one that's into degrading.” Careful not to fall back off of the bed, you climb onto his lap, thighs either side of his as you examine his expression, how gorgeous he looks with his brows knitted together and his unruly curls that Marc would definitely be gluing down with copious amounts of gel right about now.

His chest deflates as he lets out a soft sigh, resting his head on your chest out of embarrassment while you link your arms around his neck to run your fingers through the long curls at the back of his head. You feel his hands graze up your back, gliding under your night shirt and making you shiver with the warmth.

“Are you sniffing me?”

“No! Well…” he pauses, “yeah, but not in a creepy way.” The man lifts his head and looks up at you with those big doe eyes, and you watch them close as you start rolling your hips down on him slowly. You're only in your underwear underneath that shirt, but Steven is fully clothed and ready for work… or at least he would be, if his eyes weren't fluttering shut and arousal wasn't growing in his tummy.

“I promise you, darling, I like your idea.” You reassure him with your hips drawing slow circles against the material of his trousers, creating a delicious friction. “As long as you tell me if it's too much, alright?”

The bed creaks a little with your grinding before he looks up at you, nodding with a kind of desperation in his eyes that lights a fire in your gut.

“You promise?”

“Yeah love, yeah I promise.” He says, his voice a little more whiny.

You don't bother yourself with working out the psychological reasons for why your boyfriend enjoys being degraded about how long he can last, chalking it up to his masculinity, despite your reassurances that he's just as much of a man as his other two alters.

“You've got 10 minutes, think you can do that?”

Steven groans at your question, since both of you know all too well that 10 minutes is more than enough time. Still, he nods, big puppy dog eyes looking up at you and begging you to divulge in his vision.

A smirk creeps across your face when you see those glassy eyes, your gaze trailing down to the blush dusting his cheeks and the straining muscles in his neck.

“God Steven, I love the way you look at me. Look at those big soft eyes, all for mommy, aren't they?”

He lets out a whimper with the use of that title, his cock stirring in his trousers and reminding you of the thin barrier that's stopping you from grinding on the rough material of his slacks all together. The man doesn't take his gaze off of you; he drinks in every one of your features as if he's seeing you for the first time.

Rocking his hips up, he pants.

“Yes mommy, all for you, I'm all for you.”

“That's right, sweetheart, those desperate eyes are for me. that dumb little face is mine.” You lean forward and nip his bottom lip, soothing it afterwards with your tongue as he gasps and bucks his hips.

“I can feel you twitching, baby. You just can't help it, can you? Always getting so worked up and hard when I'm around, maybe I should put this pretty cock in a cage, what do you think?”

Steven's shoulders drop as he leans forward into your neck, biting and sucking any skin he can get his mouth on while his hot breath and whimpers raise goosebumps over your skin.

The suction he had in your neck is broken as his head is suddenly jerked backwards, your grip tight in his hair and making him whimper pathetically.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

His adam's apple bobs in his throat as he tries to suppress his moans, his head nodding wildly. “Yes mommy, I'd– agh–I'd love that.” His hips buck again.

“Mhm.. then you'd at least last longer than 5 minutes, you'd actually be able to fuck me properly.”

Steven's mouth hangs agape, his eyes now squeezed shut as his grip on your hips tighten and he guides your hips down on him harder, wanting more, anything.

“Sh–it… Ah- Feels so good.” His eyebrows knit together in a beautifully strained way. “More, gimme more–.”

You tut with a small smirk on your lips, rocking back and forth to coat his trousers in your own arousal that's seeped through your underwear.

“Oh, look at you, you gonna cum in your pants, baby? Gonna prove how pathetic you are to mommy?” You feel the muscles in his shoulders and back tighten. “C'mon sweetheart, cum for me, ruin those pants.”

Sweet moans and whimpers tumble from the man's rosy lips as he finally lets go, staining his boxers enough that you feel the wetness as it soaks a spot on his trouser leg.

His grip on your hips loosens, but he doesn't stop whimpering, soft babbles and huffs escaping his throat as he calms down. You stroke his head, combing your fingers through his hair as your hips slow. “Good boy, you're such a good boy, Steven.” You smile brightly at him, despite the fact his eyes are still shut.

They only flutter open when he feels your hand stroking his cheek and tilting his head down.

“Are you ok, baby? How do you feel?”

His cheeks are flushed bright red still, beads of sweat sitting on his forehead from the warmth of his button-up shirt. A smile cracks across his face as he nods shyly, “I'm ok– great, yeah.. I'm great, actually.”

“You sure? I didn't hurt your feelings, did I?”

He shakes his head and tilts face to kiss your palm. “No, you didn't, love. I promise.”

His eyes drift down to the wet patch on his trousers, your eyes following as you chuckle softly.

“Should probably change…” He mumbles while resting his head on your shoulder.

“Yeah, that's probably a good idea.” You place a kiss on his neck as you embrace him, ignoring the fact that he will most definitely be late to work… again.

...........................................................................

Tags 🖤: @boredzillenial @cowboymarcs @chichimisaki @faretheeoscar @fanofstuffidk @minigirl87 @marisferasiop @red-hydra @summonthesoups @steven-grants-world @queerponcho @ominoose @mynamesstevenwithav @rinverse @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mooksmouse @cupidysm

[greenflowerceo]

hii im suuper late to my own week ik (i'll post the rest of the days from time to time, college applications were a pain </3 but i've got most of it down

This piece is a redraw of my very first post ! This has been a wip since the start of the year so my art style unsurprisingly changed a bunch as i tweaked the lines and colors. it's not the best but it's looking as good as it can be!

as for the zine, people are free to draw up pieces for the week up until the end of september and we can compile it all together! it's not really the usual zine format but who knows.. we can maybe try to figure out a way to formally start a more structured zine project for these two

Anyway! I've decided to dedicate my greenflower week posts to my headcanons I've made up for them from the past 4 years.. I figured you guys could take a peek into my brain since I haven't really been good at that unless you catch me in a vc :") there's a buncha hcs and old ass art i never posted finally unearthing under the cut if you wanna take a peek

So, first thing: Body headcanons..

i took super long getting what i want with this waay back when I started posting cause I was still figuring out a lot with my art. i couldn't get in good details/features that would properly differentiate them or make them fun to draw. I wasn't striving to be really innovative with the designs or anything, I just wanted them to feel like characters I like looking at and thinking about

finally, i'm somewhat able to settle on these as of right now! It will most likely update as the time passes and my art changes, but this is what I got!

basically the main idea is that i wanted Lloyd to be bulkier but sharper. grew up fast and has all these edges, but then you get to know him and he's just a big ol dork. Mostly wears loose-fitting clothes that hides his figure, but he's quite built underneath

Brad's a lil taller and pretty lanky. my art style may not be able to show that properly but lloyd can snap him in half <3 he also seems hella chill but that's probably cause he got balls of steel after living through a million ninjago invasions

This thing below is an old outfit concept I have for a project that I've been working on. does not reflect my current headcanons with his physical appearance but i do like his clothes

I think he loves his role as the green ninja, saving the world and such. it came with lots of baggage and reflection but i do promise that he enjoys it for the most part. I think him wearing green is kind of like wearing work clothes so he tends to avoid it on days when he's free to keep from being too ready to jump into ninja mode

i do tend to keep him in green though cause the fandom sure does love their color-coded ninja

anyway .. that's about most of what i've got for this that looks good enough to post, so here's a bunch of other doodles/sketches, both old and new ToT

oh and a quick comic too cause why not

one more: bonus greenflower yuri

thanks for coming to read this far :) there'll be more soon

[punnifullife]

I thought long and hard (and overthinking) trying to tie teen titans 03 to the batfam stuff in my AU. I really wanted to connect the other robins, Dick turning into nightwing, and the relationship with Bruce into this. so below are a combo of rough sketches and written out ideas mixed together bc i couldn't finish this without ripping my hair out. Originally I had it come right after season 5 ending with the weird alien thing (which is what bb and rae are referencing to) but..... anyways:

This gets long so the rest will be under a cut:

just FYI on changes already: Robin's look is more dan mora/og costume. I love Dick in the yellow cape (and i always associate the black cape to Tim so hehe) Like i said the alien WAS gonna be the main bad guy since this comic will also about things changing. but i got too overwhelmed reading up on what the alien was and it was a dimensional being and yadda yadda so it was bare bones and barely even brought up as i lost interest in drawing things out. Continuation:

this is where i didnt feel like drawing a transition to tt packing/traveling to gotham.,.. so it jumps to the meeting:

yess bb jason!! In my AU, this is when dick and jason meet. Dick claims batman hasnt changed, but yet Dick keeps tabs on gotham to know about jason just as much as bruce is aware of the teen titans (and even tho Dick says "oh look, a replacement. the batman cant go without a robin". he knows that isn't really the case. he's just still hurting from their fall out. and NO he does not feel jealous or anything like that towards Jason.) I will say that's where the main drawings stopped. but the story continues! But mostly text bc drawing it out became tiring. So: they work together in an upcoming fight. Batman (and teen titans) call out to "robin" so there's funny miscommunication as which robin responds to what. Jason proves himself to Dick that he can be a robin. Bruce is his usual skeptical self and it drives Dick up a wall. Bruce eventually calls Dick out for being the same way though (altho this is more of egging on to push Dick to make some more changes. since bruce never wanted dick to be like him).

Dick: You don't know my teammates. Don't act like you do. Bruce: You're right. I don't know them. Nor do I trust them with my son. Dick: Why can't you trust MY judgement. Bruce goes back to working, ignoring the statement. And Dick comes to a realization to how Bruce shuts him out (like what he did to starfire earlier). This leads Dick to reveal his identity to his team because he DOES in fact trust them 100%. There's some closure from that and this would kinda be a turning point in terms of his angst/edgy phase as a robin. As he officially passes the mantle to Jason and where he becomes Nightwing.

team reaction to face reveal:

[togrowoldinv]

The Remote

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

You and Natasha argue over the tv remote. Yelena and the kids listen in

Note: Enjoy this soft mama Nat! Hope everyone in cold areas is staying warm this week. It’s quite chilly out. Happy reading!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

“Natasha!” You scold your wife as the tv screen goes dark.

“I didn’t do anything!” Nat shouts.

“Okay sure, so the tv just turned itself off. You always come in here and change the channel or turn it off,” you say with a huff of annoyance.

“I do not,” Natasha says seriously. “Don’t accuse me of something I don’t do.”

“You do too.”

“Baby, I really don’t,” Nat says.

“Baby, you really do,” you won’t relent. But the whole thing is kind of becoming comical.

Outside the bedroom door, your kids and Yelena are eavesdropping.

“Should we really be listening?” Ali’s conscious kicks in.

“Yes, yes. It’s fine, malyshka. We need popcorn,” Yelena says.

“I’ll go make some!” Belle says happily before trotting off. Jack follows after her, knowing she’ll need some help.

Inside you and Nat are still bickering.

“The other night I was two hours in a show when you changed it, Nat! Two hours!” You say.

“Your eyes were closed, sweetheart. You weren’t watching it,” Nat argues.

“That’s-“

“Hm?”

“Fine,” you say, crossing your arms. “I’m going to hide your remote.”

“Why do we even have two remotes?” Natasha asks.

“I don’t know,” you reply.

“I think the kids are awake. I’ll go check on them,” Nat says, changing the subject.

Nat gets up from the bed and walks to open the door. When she does, she’s met with the entire family running away from the door.

“Were you all eavesdropping?” Natasha asks.

“No,” Yelena says too quickly.

You get out of bed and join Nat at the door. The kids look guilty.

“No, Mama. We were just um-“ Ivan tries but Nat cuts him off.

“Don’t lie to me,” she says. “I will take away that PlayStation.”

“Okay, yes we were listening in,” Ivan admits.

“Yelena!” Nat scolds her sister.

“Why me? We were all doing it,” Yelena says.

“Right. And who told everyone that we were in here arguing?” Nat asks.

The answer comes in the form of Belle waltzing up the stairs with popcorn in her hands. She stops briefly at the sight of you and Nat, but then carries on to Yelena.

“I made the popcorn, Auntie Yelena! Jackie helped,” Belle says proudly.

“Popcorn, really Yel?” You ask.

“Do you want some, Mommy?” Belle asks you.

“No thank you, baby,” you reply. Her sweet regard makes you forget you’re upset the family was eavesdropping.

Natasha takes the bowl from Belle and hands it to Ali. She picks the little girl up into her arms.

“Were you and Mommy arguing?” Belle asks Nat. She plays with Nat’s shirt collar.

“Not really,” Nat replies. “We were just being silly. Right Mommy?”

“That’s right,” you agree. “So I think everyone can go to bed now.”

“But we have popcorn to eat,” Ali says. “Movie night?”

“On a school night? I don’t think so,” you say.

“Please?” Belle asks.

“Princess, it’s already late. You need sleep,” you tell her. She frowns and buries her face into Nat’s neck.

“One quick show then maybe?” Nat suggests.

“Okay. Everyone come pile in,” you say. “Even you Yelena.”

The girl smiles and follows the rest of the family into your bedroom. Natasha hands you both remotes and you can’t help but smile.

“I’m sorry for yelling. Even though I’m right,” you tell her once you’ve got a show on that’s keeping the family interested.

“Yeah yeah, I know. Happy wife, happy life,” Natasha jokes. “I’m willing to give up my remote if it makes you happy. I love you.”

“It really does. And I love you too,” you say.

You kiss her lips gently and snuggle further into bed with your happy family. Life with Natasha is just perfect.

[veritasangel]

Loving notes

⋆ ｡⋆ any pov ୨୧˚ warnings: none {wc: 686}

"Your hands are comically small." Toji says as he watches you play the piano, his voice a deep rumble that almost blends with the low notes you're pressing.

"My hands are not small, yours are just... stupidly big," you retort, looking up to glare at him with a playful glint in your eye. The corners of your lips twitch into a smile as you finally reach the end of the melody, letting that last note hang in the air between you.

Toji is a sharp contrast to the diminutive piano, his frame large and taking up a lot of space in the small room. He rests his arm against it, his broad shoulders creating a shadow across the keys as he leans down to get a better look at the movement of your fingers.

"Well- since you dragged this damn thing in here whilst I was away for work... show me how you do it." He says, curiosity sparking in his usually sharp eyes.

You scoot along the bench, allowing him to sit beside you. It's a small fit for the two of you, though neither of you mind. Toji's warmth radiates across the minimal space between you as his large hands come to rest, somewhat awkwardly, on his knees while waiting for your instruction.

"Alright, well I doubt you can read sheet music so let's just go by memory for this." you say as you reach over to guide his fingers onto the keys. His hands are huge compared to yours, the veins prominent underneath the skin. His skin calloused and rough, a testimony to his strength and the life he lives. Yet, there's something soft in how he follows your guidance, the usual toughness replaced by a rare gentleness that only you see.

You do a quick run-through of the simple melody, then wait for him to play it. Toji's attempt is clumsy, and the notes come out uneven and just downright wrong. You stifle a laugh, not wanting his ego bruised, but it's hard to hide your amusement.

"Piss off, it's harder than it looks," he grumbles, frowning at the keys as if they offended him personally.

You can't help but chuckle, the sound light, airy. "You just need to relax a little, big guy. It's not about force, just take it slow.".

You take his hands and begin again, much slower this time. He feels the rhythm of the music through your fingers and focuses as if his life depends on it. His brow furrows in concentration, and you can see he is trying really hard, which only makes it all the more endearing.

Who would have guessed that your scary boyfriend would seem so shy as you try to teach him a piano melody?

Minutes pass, and the melody starts to take shape, although a bit more rugged under Toji's ministrations, it was still getting somewhere. You watch with a smile, enjoying this side of him, finding it sweet that he wanted to learn just because he saw you doing it.

The comfortable silence between the two of you is only broken by the occasional slip up of the notes, with a shared laugh between you both. Toji's large hand finally covers yours on the keys as he stops, looking up at you with an intensity that makes your heart flutter.

"You should teach me." he says softly, his voice void of its usual edge, "Like for real."

"Really? You want to?" you tease, grinning up at him as warmth floods your chest.

Toji snorts, his hand tightening over yours ever so slightly. "I just like you teaching me and I also get to admire you as you play. Win win."

There is a teasing lilt to his words, and you roll your eyes, but the way he looks at you, makes you melt. You're sitting there, hands intertwined on the keys, and you realise that this small moment is one that will probably stay with you. It's definitely something you wouldn't trade for anything.

After all, how often are you going to get to see this soft side of Toji?

༄ m.list

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