#Mississippi Speaker

[kierensjpnjourney]

langblr i need help againnn...

does anyone have any tips on memorizing particles (is that the word for them?) and telling the difference between them? specifically る,ろ, そ i am REALLY struggling to memorize those three because they look so similar to me ( ｉ﹏ｉ )

so if you have any ways youve memorized those three..... please tell me ;;

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Ian Millhiser at Vox:

The Supreme Court announced on Monday that it will not hear Mckesson v. Doe. The decision not to hear Mckesson leaves in place a lower court decision that effectively eliminated the right to organize a mass protest in the states of Louisiana, Mississippi, and Texas. Under that lower court decision, a protest organizer faces potentially ruinous financial consequences if a single attendee at a mass protest commits an illegal act.

It is possible that this outcome will be temporary. The Court did not embrace the United States Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit’s decision attacking the First Amendment right to protest, but it did not reverse it either. That means that, at least for now, the Fifth Circuit’s decision is the law in much of the American South. For the past several years, the Fifth Circuit has engaged in a crusade against DeRay Mckesson, a prominent figure within the Black Lives Matter movement who organized a protest near a Baton Rouge police station in 2016. The facts of the Mckesson case are, unfortunately, quite tragic. Mckesson helped organize the Baton Rouge protest following the fatal police shooting of Alton Sterling. During that protest, an unknown individual threw a rock or similar object at a police officer, the plaintiff in the Mckesson case who is identified only as “Officer John Doe.” Sadly, the officer was struck in the face and, according to one court, suffered “injuries to his teeth, jaw, brain, and head.”

Everyone agrees that this rock was not thrown by Mckesson, however. And the Supreme Court held in NAACP v. Claiborne Hardware (1982) that protest leaders cannot be held liable for the violent actions of a protest participant, absent unusual circumstances that are not present in the Mckesson case — such as if Mckesson had “authorized, directed, or ratified” the decision to throw the rock. Indeed, as Justice Sonia Sotomayor points out in a brief opinion accompanying the Court’s decision not to hear Mckesson, the Court recently reaffirmed the strong First Amendment protections enjoyed by people like Mckesson in Counterman v. Colorado (2023). That decision held that the First Amendment “precludes punishment” for inciting violent action “unless the speaker’s words were ‘intended’ (not just likely) to produce imminent disorder.”

The reason Claiborne protects protest organizers should be obvious. No one who organizes a mass event attended by thousands of people can possibly control the actions of all those attendees, regardless of whether the event is a political protest, a music concert, or the Super Bowl. So, if protest organizers can be sanctioned for the illegal action of any protest attendee, no one in their right mind would ever organize a political protest again. Indeed, as Fifth Circuit Judge Don Willett, who dissented from his court’s Mckesson decision, warned in one of his dissents, his court’s decision would make protest organizers liable for “the unlawful acts of counter-protesters and agitators.” So, under the Fifth Circuit’s rule, a Ku Klux Klansman could sabotage the Black Lives Matter movement simply by showing up at its protests and throwing stones.

The Fifth Circuit’s Mckesson decision is obviously wrong

Like Mckesson, Claiborne involved a racial justice protest that included some violent participants. In the mid-1960s, the NAACP launched a boycott of white merchants in Claiborne County, Mississippi. At least according to the state supreme court, some participants in this boycott “engaged in acts of physical force and violence against the persons and property of certain customers and prospective customers” of these white businesses. Indeed, one of the organizers of this boycott did far more to encourage violence than Mckesson is accused of in his case. Charles Evers, a local NAACP leader, allegedly said in a speech to boycott supporters that “if we catch any of you going in any of them racist stores, we’re gonna break your damn neck.”

With SCOTUS refusing to take up McKesson v. Doe, the 5th Circuit's insane anti-1st Amendment ruling that effectively bans mass protests remains in force for the 3 states covered in the 5th: Texas, Louisiana, and Mississippi.

[soon-palestine]

Under that lower court decision, a protest organizer faces potentially ruinous financial consequences if a single attendee at a mass protest commits an illegal act.

It is possible that this outcome will be temporary. The Court did not embrace the United States Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit’s decision attacking the First Amendment right to protest, but it did not reverse it either. That means that, at least for now, the Fifth Circuit’s decision is the law in much of the American South.

For the past several years, the Fifth Circuit has engaged in a crusade against DeRay Mckesson, a prominent figure within the Black Lives Matter movement who organized a protest near a Baton Rouge police station in 2016.

The facts of the Mckesson case are, unfortunately, quite tragic. Mckesson helped organize the Baton Rouge protest following the fatal police shooting of Alton Sterling. During that protest, an unknown individual threw a rock or similar object at a police officer, the plaintiff in the Mckesson case who is identified only as “Officer John Doe.” Sadly, the officer was struck in the face and, according to one court, suffered “injuries to his teeth, jaw, brain, and head.”

Everyone agrees that this rock was not thrown by Mckesson, however. And the Supreme Court held in NAACP v. Claiborne Hardware (1982) that protest leaders cannot be held liable for the violent actions of a protest participant, absent unusual circumstances that are not present in the Mckesson case — such as if Mckesson had “authorized, directed, or ratified” the decision to throw the rock.

Indeed, as Justice Sonia Sotomayor points out in a brief opinion accompanying the Court’s decision not to hear Mckesson, the Court recently reaffirmed the strong First Amendment protections enjoyed by people like Mckesson in Counterman v. Colorado (2023). That decision held that the First Amendment “precludes punishment” for inciting violent action “unless the speaker’s words were ‘intended’ (not just likely) to produce imminent disorder.”

The reason Claiborne protects protest organizers should be obvious. No one who organizes a mass event attended by thousands of people can possibly control the actions of all those attendees, regardless of whether the event is a political protest, a music concert, or the Super Bowl. So, if protest organizers can be sanctioned for the illegal action of any protest attendee, no one in their right mind would ever organize a political protest again.

Indeed, as Fifth Circuit Judge Don Willett, who dissented from his court’s Mckesson decision, warned in one of his dissents, his court’s decision would make protest organizers liable for “the unlawful acts of counter-protesters and agitators.” So, under the Fifth Circuit’s rule, a Ku Klux Klansman could sabotage the Black Lives Matter movement simply by showing up at its protests and throwing stones.

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

Rubrum

Pairings: Drilla “Dan” Moloney x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 551 words

Warnings: +18 smut, explicit adult content and language, mild degradation, public sex, dirty talk.

A/N: This will probably get zero interactions, however, I needed to at least get it out of my system. Even if it was a small drabble.

Tags: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @daddyhausen , @melissahausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @bayleymania , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @moxkindagirl , @sunshinevirus , @im-just-a-mississippi-girl , @ripleyswhore

Beneath the red lighting, the dirty mirror had a foggy reflection. The smoke of his cigarette being blown against the skin of your neck added a much-needed warmth to your body. His hands traveled up your torso, soon closing around your covered breasts and squeezing the soft flesh with his calloused fingers.

His chest was pressed against your back, and his grunts filled up the bathroom as you circled your hips around his clothed erection. Upon the half-lit mirror, your reflections danced as your bodies moved to the rhythm of the music playing in the pub’s speakers.

“Pull it up” Dan whispered against your ear, toying with the hem of your vinyl skirt before tossing the cigarette bud over his shoulder. One of his tanned hands closed around your hip, squeezing the soft flesh and reveling in the feeling of it filling up his hand, as the other locked on your hair, tugging at the scalp until your eyes met in the mirror.

“Keep looking at me, just like that. I want to see your face as you take every inch of my cock”.

The hand against your hip quickly traveled down to push your purple lace thong to the side, holding it in place as he aimed his tip against your entrance. “Don’t move!” Dan gave a warning tug on your hair before slowly entering you.

“Fuck” You whisper, grabbing onto the sink for some kind of support. “Slow, please”, Your hand reached back to hold onto his hair, “I want to feel every inch of you inside of me”.

His animalistic growl rumbled against your ear “Feeling greedy, aren’t we? My little mouse wants to be filled with cock?”.

Dan’s teeth closed around your ear lobe as you nodded in response. “I want all of it”

“I’ll give you all of it” He sank deeper into you, pushing your body closer to the sink, making you moan.

“How can I say no to that? I can’t. Mousey always gets what she wants” Dan laid an open mouth kiss on your cheek before he continued “That tight cunt is so fucking perfect. No matter how much I fuck it, it’s always so tight and wet for me. Fuck, you’re perfect”.

His dark brown eyes were fixed on your reflection at the same time his hand let go of your hair to close around your neck, “So fucking beautiful” Dan praised, your back arching to fit more of him.

His hand traveled forward stopping at your bundle of nerves, he circled around the engorged flesh with a grunt, “See what you do to me, mousey? You make me so fucking hard for you”.

Your legs trembled from pleasure, your mouth hung open in a silent ‘o’ shape, and your hand closed around Dan’s hair to pull his face closer to yours. Turning your face to the side, you pulled him down for a heated kiss.

“You’re mine, all mine”. He whispered against your parted lips before kissing it again. His warm saliva touched your taste buds as a glob of spit fell onto your tongue. Your wicked smile made his cock throb, “Fuck me like a plaything, sir. Your plaything”.

The last thing you saw before your face was pressed against the mirror was the satisfied smirk plastered on Dan’s lips.

[visceravalentines]

Fireworks

Dad's Best Friend!Dilf!Bo Sinclair x AFAB!Reader

3k words Part 2 here!

Smut for days, fluff for weeks. Age gap, dad's best friend, oral, dirty talk, praise, creampie, reader is referred to as darlin' and baby girl and pretty.

Yeah yeah, today's the 4th of July, cheesy title, whatever. THIS IS THE MOST FUN I'VE HAD IN A WHILE. In fact I loved living in this little tableau I've created so much I'm planning a sequel?? Fuck dude, I am down so stupid bad for this dumb idiot man.

Tagging a few people who I think might enjoy this as much as I did. @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, @slutforguts, @brandnewhuman, @fluffy-little-demon

If there was one thing your parents did right every time, it was their big summer bash. 

Every year, when the temperature really started to ramp up, they invited the whole neighborhood over for barbecue, drinks, ice cream, and yard games.  Their backyard pool was filled with kids bobbing like apples.  There was often a waterslide, a water balloon toss, and sometimes fireworks once it got dark. 

You had missed it the last few years, busy with summer semester at school.  This year, however, you found yourself longing for a familiar setting and comfortable traditions.  Even the incessant questions from neighbors you barely remembered would be worth the opportunity to be somewhere stable.  Your parents, of course, were delighted, and swiftly roped you in to helping plan the menu, buy food and supplies, and set up the morning of the big day. 

Wearing a new bikini underneath a band tee, you helped your mom arrange watermelon slices on a large platter, nestled soda and beer into coolers full of ice, and walked up and down the deck steps innumerable times carrying everything outside. 

Although the party didn’t officially start until noon, people always began trickling in early, especially people close with your folks.  The Swensons next door with their four boys arrived at 10:30.  Two women from your mom’s book club arrived around 11.  And when you made yet another trip down the deck stairs, you saw your dad on a ladder hanging decorations with the help of a tall, sandy-haired man you immediately recognized. 

“Hey Dad, Mom wants to know if you want the stuff for the grill outside now or if you want to wait.”  The man looked over his shoulder with a curious expression on his handsome face.  “Hi, Mr. Sinclair.” 

He broke into a grin.  “Y/N, is that you?  I’ll be damned.” 

“It’s me.”  You smiled sheepishly.  His Southern accent had been the source of much conversation between you and your high school friends.  You’d even dated some asshole from Mississippi for a while just to hear that honey-sweet drawl. 

Mr. Sinclair handed your dad the other end of the banner he was hanging and turned to you.  Were you imagining his ice-blue eyes flicking down to your bare legs and back up to your face?  “You look good, darlin’.  How’s college?” 

Oh, you had forgotten that.  How had you forgotten the way he called you darlin’?  “Can’t complain,” you said.  “I’ll graduate in another year.” 

“Y’got big plans after that?”  God, those eyes.  Had they always been so piercing?  You felt seen in a way that was intense, but not unpleasant. 

“Not really.  I’m waiting to see what opportunities open up, I guess.” 

“Well, you’re a smart one, you’ll figure it out.” 

Your mom yelled your name from the back door.  You excused yourself and walked across the patio.  The weight of a stare on your ass was tangible. 

Just before you reached the deck stairs, you turned and looked back.  He did not even try to hide the fact that yes, he had indeed been checking you out seconds before.  His gaze swept up to your face at the most leisurely pace possible and he flashed you a subtle smirk.  You felt the heat of a blush and tried not to race up the stairs. 

 The backyard filled up quickly as people began to arrive.  Music wafted from the speakers mounted beneath the deck.  The shriek of neighborhood kids and the splashing of pool water rounded out the suburbia soundtrack. 

You answered the same questions over and over from friendly neighbors, helped your mom stave off several low-stakes emergencies, finally managed to extricate yourself from all party business long enough to shed your t-shirt and slip into the pool. 

The shallow end was for splash fights.  The deep end was for the older crowd.  The water was cool but not cold, washing the sweat from your skin as you let yourself sink all the way down to the bottom.  The muffling of sound and the sensation of even pressure on your skin helped you relax, clear your mind, until all that was left was the thought of a mechanic’s rough hands. 

You had bet on a lot of things, coming home for this event.  Mr. Sinclair’s killer jawline was not one of them. 

In one burst, you launched yourself back up to the surface.  Wiping the water from your eyes and nose, you kicked to the wall, hauled yourself up and out of the pool.  As you toweled off your face and arms, you scanned the crowd.  Sure enough, you found him, barely a participant in the conversation at hand, gaze locked on you as he drained the dregs from his beer bottle. 

He was going to need another, wasn’t he?  You were sort of the host of this party too, right? 

You wrapped the towel around your hips and snagged two beers from a cooler.  You pretended you couldn’t quite hear Mrs. Swenson flagging you down and made a beeline for the tall man breaking away from the conversation. 

“Hey, Mr. Sinclair,” you said, darting in front of him.  The way he lit up upon seeing you made your stomach flip.  “I grabbed you a beer.” 

“Well ain’t you the sweetest thing.”  He accepted the bottle from you and this time, there was no mistaking the way his eyes drank in your exposed skin.  “Call me Bo, darlin’.”  He took a swig.  You tried and failed at not staring at his lips.  “You enjoyin’ yourself?” 

“Yeah, it’s good to be back.  Summer on campus is boring.” 

“Can’t help but notice you didn’t bring anyone home with you.” 

You raised an eyebrow.  “Yeah…not a lot of luck in that department.” 

He grinned at you.  “What, a pretty thing like you?  Now that’s a cryin’ shame.” 

“Oh, believe me, there has been crying.” 

His smile cooled, just a little.  “Any o’ them kids hurt your feelings, darlin’, you give me a call.  I’ll teach ‘em a lesson for you.” 

Something told you he wasn’t joking.  “Well, if you ever come across Bradley from Gulfport, you have my permission to kick his ass.” 

He laughed.  “Duly noted.  What did Bradley from Gulfport have goin’ for him?” 

You pinched your tongue between your teeth.  “…a Southern accent.” 

The smile this triggered sent a heatwave rolling beneath your skin.  “That’s all it takes, huh?”  You bit your lip and could not look at him.  “You gotta watch out for those Southern boys, there’s only two kinds.  They’re either gentlemen or scoundrels, every one of ‘em.” 

You boosted your courage with a mouthful of beer.  “Which one are you, Bo?” 

He studied you for a long time before answering.  “The kind who doesn’t want your daddy noticin’ the way I’m lookin’ at his daughter.” 

You were wet, and it was not from the pool. 

Clearing your throat, you said, “I think I’m…going to go change.  Probably not getting back in the water.” 

He nodded once.  “Fair enough.” 

You took two steps before adding, “I’ll be upstairs, if you need anything.”  Again, shocked at your own brazenness, it took everything in you not to run up the steps. 

The house was cold and quiet.  You made your way down the hall, hung the towel over the shower curtain rod, nudged your bedroom door almost completely closed.  Slowly, you undid your bikini, practically tingling with anticipation.  Would he actually follow you up here?  What if he did?  You took your sweet time picking out a pair of underwear and a new t-shirt.  You held off on the shorts and the bra.  How long should you wait before you went back out there? 

Just as you were about to give up and pull on the rest of your clothes, there came a soft rap on the door.  You took hold of the handle and opened it just a little further, peeking into the hallway. 

There stood Bo Sinclair, bold as brass, looking somehow both smug and earnest.  “I missed you,” he said. 

You reached out, grabbed his hand, tugged him into your bedroom and shut the door.  With fluid grace, he spun you around, pushed you against the door, set his hands lightly on your waist.  You were breathing hard already.  “D’you want this, darlin’?” he whispered. 

You nodded.  “Yes.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes.” 

He tilted your chin up with his thumb, kissed you with those lips.  He tasted like beer and cigarettes and some indescribable sweetness.  Your hands found his chest, still broad and muscular, and he felt hot beneath the fabric of his shirt.  He broke the kiss, met your eyes, then kissed you again, deeper this time, his tongue playing at the edge of your teeth.  A soft moan rose to your lips. 

He pulled away again, looked at you seriously.  “If you want me to stop, I’ll stop,” he said. 

You shook your head.  “No.  I want more.”  Your hand slid down his front, palmed at him through his jeans. 

He cocked his head, a smile creeping across his face.  “You’re a little minx, ain’t you.”  He thrust his hips against you, pushed his knee in between your thighs.  “Lemme show you a good time, baby girl.”  He kissed down your neck, into the hollow of your throat, his fingertips brushing the skin just underneath the hem of your shirt.  You arched your back, pressing against him, still caught up in a measure of disbelief that this was actually happening. 

Bo took your hands and pulled you toward your bed.  It was a full, barely bigger than a twin, hopefully big enough for two – you’d never tried it before.  He sat on the edge, guided you onto his lap with your legs wrapped around his waist, showered you with kisses while he ran his hands over your legs, your ass. 

You took hold of his shirt, worked it up his torso and off of him.  His shoulders were dusted with freckles, soft blonde hair on his chest.  His eyes gleamed.  “Fair is fair, darlin’.” 

You stripped off your own shirt, tossed it to the floor.  Bo muttered an expletive under his breath.  He traced his thumb over your nipple and it hardened instantly, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.  “You’re too pretty, baby,” he murmured.  “I wanna wreck you.” 

Wrapping your arms around him, you pulled yourself against his body, kissed his collarbones, his shoulders.  You could feel him getting hard underneath you and you rolled your hips experimentally once, twice.  He made a delightful sound in his throat, his grip tightening on your love handles. 

“Let me worship you, darlin’,” he said against your temple. 

“Please,” you breathed. 

He twisted, laid you down on the bed, kissed you sweetly and then wandered his mouth down your body, little by little, until his fingers were tucked in the waistband of your underwear and his breath was warm on your lower stomach.  His baby blue eyes, alight with mischief, locked on yours. 

“Now, you gotta be quiet.  Wouldn’t wanna get you in trouble.” 

You nodded quickly, the blanket already balled up in your fists. 

Bo eased your panties down your thighs slowly.  You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to steady your breathing, and when his tongue first slipped through your lips you let out an involuntary ohh. 

“Ah-ah, what did I say?”  You could hear the grin in his voice.  “Be good for me or I might have to give you a spankin’, and it won’t be like the kind your daddy used to give you.” 

You writhed.  You disheveled the sheets.  You bit your lip hard as he worked you over, sucking your clit, teasing your entrance.  These were not the bewildered ministrations of a reluctant frat boy.  This man was indeed worshipping you and doing it well, and the pleasure building steadily deep inside you was enough to make you want to scream. 

Finally, when you truly could not take it anymore, you choked out his name, grabbed at his hair.  He looked up, licked you off his lips, kissed the inside of your thigh.  “What d’you need, baby girl?” 

“I-I….” 

“God, you look good.”  He crept up the length of your body, cradled your head to bring your lips up to his.  “Such a mess for me.” 

You ran your hands through his chest hair.  “Bo,” you whimpered. 

“Yes, darlin’?” 

“I need you.” 

“You need me where?” 

“I need you…to fuck me…please?” 

He exhaled sharply.  “You are hellbent on gettin’ me in trouble, ain’t you.”  He trailed a finger down your breastbone.  “Teasin’ me with that beautiful body…askin’ me so nicely.” 

“Please, Bo.” 

He pressed his lips to your forehead, nuzzled your ear.  “Has anyone ever made you cum in this bed?” he whispered. 

“No,” you whispered back. 

“Mmm.”  He cupped your breast, squeezed firmly.  “I bet you’d look mighty fine on top of me.”  He slipped away from you, pulled off his jeans and boxers.  You made room for him on the bed, straddled his hips, eyeing his length.  He folded his arms above his head and stretched languidly.  “Take it slow, darlin’.  I like the view.” 

You rubbed yourself against him, your already-sensitive clit dangerously tender.  The two of you moaned in concert, the friction between you intoxicating.  He felt good between your folds, beneath your hands, his stomach firm under a cushion of fat.  You canted your hips in a steady rhythm until he was slick with your arousal.  With his tip at your entrance, you pressed down carefully, not quite enough to push him into you, and smiled at him, held him there. 

“Wicked,” he scolded.  “You bet your ass I’ll remember this for next time.” 

“Next time?” 

“Oh, there will most assuredly be a next time.” 

This lit up your insides more than you expected and you lowered yourself onto him all the way in one smooth motion.  You gasped.  He groaned.  His hands left their place on the pillow to take hold of your hips.  He rocked you back and forth at an easy pace and you felt him flex inside you. 

“Oh, Bo.” 

“Quit.”  He slapped the side of your ass.  “My stamina ain’t what it used to be and if you throw that in the mix we are in for a short ride.” 

You giggled, leaned back for a better angle, and sighed contentedly.  When you opened your eyes, you found him staring at you with open admiration.  Bending over his chest, you kissed him deeply, your skin alight with his touch.  You rode him methodically for what could have been hours, hands on your breasts, biting back the little sounds he drew out of you. 

At last he took your jaw in his hand, commanded your attention.  “Now, darlin’.  You’re gonna cum for me hard and you’re gonna look me in the eyes while you do it.  Y’understand?” 

Your breath caught in your throat.  “Yes sir.” 

He gave you a look.  “I’m gonna remember that for next time too.” 

He took a firm grasp on your thighs, adjusted his hips, and began to thrust into you with unexpected force.  Your mouth fell open in an O and your eyes rolled back in your head.  “Look at me, darlin’, look at me.”  You refocused, teeth pinning your lip, his expression positively sinful.  You felt yourself begin to come apart and clawed at his chest.  “That’s it, baby, so pretty.” 

You couldn’t keep back the whine bubbling up in your lungs any longer, keening helplessly, whole body a mass of snapping nerves.  His long, soft lashes fluttered as he finished inside you with a low grunt, clenching your flesh hard enough to leave marks. 

Panting, you sank onto his shoulder and he wove his arms around you.  “You did so well for me,” he mumbled, kissing your brow.  “Such a sweet thing.” 

You curled into his side while he stroked your back, traced the lines your nails left in his skin.  “You know…I’ve never….” 

He grew immediately serious.  “You’ve never what?” 

“I’ve never had sex in this bed at all.” 

Bo huffed out a sigh of relief.  “Jesus Christ, Y/N, you’re gonna give an old fuck like me a heart attack.” 

You giggled.  “Sorry.” 

“I can’t be goin’ around deflowerin’ young women, they’d kill me in the streets.”  He gave you a tender kiss.  “Probably kill me for this anyway.” 

“Too bad, I’ll miss you.” 

He gave your ass an affectionate smack.  “Speakin’ of missin’, we’d both better get back out there before they send a search party.” 

“When can I see you again?” 

“In about five minutes when you put your clothes back on and get out there and pretend like you weren’t just fucked stupid by your daddy’s best friend.” 

“That is not what I meant.” 

“Oh, what’d y’mean?” 

“When can I see you again like this?”  You ran your thumb along his jaw. 

“Well, how long are you in town for?” 

“The rest of the summer.” 

He let out a low whistle.  “Is that so?  Y’know, I’ve been meanin’ to hire some help at the shop.  How ‘bout I pay you and let you fuck me?” 

“Would that be weird?” 

“You tell me, baby girl.” 

“Nah, I don’t think so.” 

“Well then I don’t neither.”  He kissed you one last time.  “Consider yourself hired.  Great interview.  Put your clothes on.” 

You socked his ribs and wiggled away.  He watched you dress and you slipped out of the room, sneaking back to the party well before he did.  No one seemed to have noticed either of your absence, and you managed to play it cool for the rest of the afternoon. 

When the sun fell at last and the streetlights turned on, everyone congregated on the front lawn for a fireworks show.  Your dad always went for the ones that were technically illegal and to this day no one gave him grief about it. 

With everyone’s eyes on the sky, you sidled up beside Bo, standing behind the crowd near the house.  You didn’t dare take his hand, but you leaned against his arm, and a smile appeared on his lips, and that was enough. 

[bullet-prooflove]

Queen - Filip 'Chibs' Telford x Reader

Tagging: @corruptedcoffin @anime-weeb-4-life @redpoodlern @ravencrow83 @kishie8 @thelonewolfwillsurvive @thanossexual @nu1freakshow @oureternalbond @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @jtelford @the-wandering-lunatic @darqchilddaydreamz @yourwinchesterbros @lexondeck @keyweegirlie @poppyrose33 @belovedbastardremus @trublu2u @thebaileybugle @ambassadortotrilliusprime @yvette22 @legally-a-bastard @thequeenoftheisleofavalon @joyfulfxckery @waysbsgr @thanossexual @justreblogginfics

Companion piece to Punishment and Silver & Gold

You’re working late when it happens.

The building has been empty for hours, Liza your receptionist had popped her head in to say goodbye somewhere around six and after that you’d lost track of the time, caught up in the scribble of your pen on the yellow legal pad and the crescendo of Bach playing on your speakers. There’s a glass of Highland Scotch, from the distillery Filip had invested in back in Scotland, placed neatly beside your cell phone.

When the door to your office opens you think it’s Filip, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s turned up to bring you home because you’ve gotten caught up in something.

You don’t expect to see Galen.

The Butcher of Belfast closes the door quietly behind him before coming to stand in front of your desk. There’s a moment where you don’t move, you can’t. You can feel your heart palpitate against your ribcage, the scars on your back scratching against the fabric of your silk shirt. He tips his head slightly to one side before the left corner of his mouth twists up into a smile.

It takes you right back to that moment, the one where his hand threaded in your hair, gripping it and yanking your head right back so that you were staring into those malevolent eyes of his. You thought you knew fear up until that point, you’d endured a man who’d beat you because of your success. You’d slayed your monster. Galen had proved you wrong, he’d taken you to new heights, you hadn’t tasted terror not until you’d met him.

“What do you want?” Somehow you spit out the words, you can taste the vitriol on your tongue.

There’s a rage somewhere deep down inside of you that fucking burns. It’s violent, the fire that licks up your bones, you can feel it flooding through you as your hand comes to rest upon the top desk drawer. He takes a step forward and you hold your palm up as if to ward him off.

“Don’t…”

“Come on lass, you know that word doesn’t mean anything to me.”  He reminds you as he places both hands upon the surface of your desk and leans in close. You can smell his aftershave and it makes your stomach twist because you remember the way it clung to your skin in the aftermath.

It’s almost intimate the way he holds your gaze. He’s seen parts of you that no one else has, not even Filip, and you’ve seen the depths in him. The joy he takes in extracting what he wants, the pleasure he feels during the act itself. There’s a bond between the two of you that no one in the world can understand except each other and you know that’s why he’s here tonight. You didn’t break in the barn. That presents a challenge and to a man like Galen, it’s like ringing Pavlov’s bell.

“The last time I had you I took exactly what I wanted.” He reminds you in a hushed tone. “I told you that I would keep doing it again and again and again and you would know every time that your man can’t protect you. That he’s nothing but a pawn on a chessboard and I’m a King.” His hand wraps around the glass of Scotch before he brings it to his lips. “Pawns can’t kill a king.”

“They can’t.” You agree, sliding open your desk drawer. “But a Queen can.”

The gun roars to life in your hand, the recoil vibrating through your arm as the first bullet strikes Galen in the chest. The glass slips from his hand, Scotch spilling over the front of his shirt as he stares at you in surprise. You fire a second time and his back hits the wall, his knees buckling from underneath him. You raise to your feet as he slides down it slowly, tsking as you shake your head.

“You underestimated me.” You tell him as you crouch down beside him and review your handiwork. Crimson stains grow across the white of his expensive shirt, his breathing is laboured and ragged, you can hear the catch in every breath, and you savour it. “You thought I would break but everything you did to me just put this fucking fire, right here in my chest.” You tap your finger against the space where your heart beats. “And the only thing that is going to sate that is watching the light die in your eyes, knowing that it was me that did this to you, the woman you spent hours torturing in a shitty broken-down barn in the middle of nowhere.”

“I should have killed you!” He snarls, blood staining his teeth as he bares them at you.

His pallor is already turning ashen, his skin taking on a waxy sheen. The stench of copper is in the air, you can taste it in your mouth as you survey the blood pool steadily growing underneath him.

“Your second mistake was leaving me alive to teach the man I love a lesson. I never told him what you did.” You say shaking your head. “I didn’t want that for him. He has enough to live with. I have to shoulder that burden, but I trust me it sits a lot fucking lighter knowing that you’ll never touch another woman again.”

You lower the gun, aiming it at his groin. His eyes widen and for a fraction of a second you think you see terror.

“You don’t have the balls…”

You pull the trigger, and he screams. It’s a hoarse sound, a strained bellow of agony that vibrates through his chest. You clap your palm over his mouth, stifling the noise, the same way he did to you when he fucked you.

“This is how it ends.” You tell him. “You and me in this room.  A Queen and a cockless fucking King.”

Love Chibs? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[omgcatboi]

‼️🚨 TRANS PEOPLE IN MISSISSIPPI NEED YOUR HELP! CALL THESE REPRESENTATIVES AND VOTE ** NO ** ON THESE BILLS DISGUISED AS PROTECTION FOR WOMEN BUT REALLY ONLY OPEN THE GATE TO BEGIN TRANS BANS JUST LIKE FLORIDA AND OKLAHOMA. THIS CAN MEAN LOSING MY HRT AS MY CLINIC IS IN MISSISSIPPI!! ‼️🚨

MAKE MISSISSIPPI SAFE, VOTE NO!

CALL AND LEAVE YOUR VOTE!

Incase you dont know how to do it : Both bills are disguised as protecting women but they're really repealing our protections so they can make laws discriminating against trans people. All u have to do to vote no is state your name and both bills and say you vote no. I just did it

Bill 1 :

*HB 1607 is the “Mississippi Women’s Bill of Rights”

Bill 2:

*SB 2753 is the “Securing Areas for Females Effectively and Responsibly Act”

-Call House Speaker Jason White: 601-359-3304

-Call Representative Joey Hood: 601-359-2428

-Call Lt Gov Delbert Hoseman: 601-359-3200

-Call Representative Joey Hood: 601-359-2428

-Call Senator Brice Wiggins: 601-359-3237

Read about the bills here:

Bill 1

Bill 2

I know this isn't my usual posting but I have 3k followers who are mostly trans let's make this happen ! Let's show Mississippi we will NOT fold like other states !! CALL AND VOTE NO !!

[daddyhausen]

Im really loving the chuck content i think its just so 😚🤌🏼

I was wondering if you could do another with him, i wanna give you free rein on it but i want it to be really smutty

🫶🏼🫶🏼

• what a bitch i can be — chuck taylor •

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{ masterlist } | { aew masterlist } | { chuck taylor masterlist }

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{ summary } — a night on the town to celebrate kris’ new title win was surely to be eventful. with a couple drinks already in your system, dustin was in no mood for your bratty behaviour, so you decided to see how far you could push him until he finally snapped

{ warnings } — 18 + { minors do not interact }, mentions of drinking, mild drunk sex, public teasing, cnc, submissive x dominant dynamic, spitting, degradation, humiliation, dumbification, dirty talk, bondage, rope play, size kink, daddy kink, ddlg, spanking, gags, fingering, finger sucking, brat taming, hair pulling, face fucking, oral sex { male receiving }, throatpie, cumplay, multiple orgasms, facials, male + female orgasm, forced orgasms, breeding kink, rough sex, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, squirting, internal cumshots, vaginal creampie

{ word count } — 5k

{ pairing } — fem!reader x chuck taylor

{ genre } — smut

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{ taglist } — @cosmoholic13 @boutmachines @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @baysexuality @slut4kennyomega @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @bonehead-playz @cherrytheeredheadmamaclaymore @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980 @elsteenerico @igncrxntripley

{ beta readers } — @allelitesmut + @legit9thlunaticwarrior

{ comment if you want to be added to the taglist }

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your body buzzed along with the thick thrum of the bassline from the club speakers, tossing back another shot of whiskey, letting the honeyed liquid drip down your throat with a slight burn, the sensation warming your veins, like a fire pit nestled deep in your belly. it wasn’t a relatively large club, albeit, bright and colourful, decked from floor to ceiling in strobe lights, lasers and neon signs, mostly pinks and greens, it looked otherworldly, a far contrast the the dodgy looking alleyway it was so securely nestled in the back of, besides that it definitely fit kris’ aesthetic.

speaking of the alien girl, she remained by your side in the booth, clearly the alcohol got a hold on her far quicker than it did you, slurring her words slightly, offering you head pats and nose boops like she would any other occasion followed by a joyous giggle. her almost six foot tall frame, slumped over a half conscious orange cassidy, who sat cramped in the corner of the booth, idily nursing his own beverage, the drink too had him dozing in and out of reality, his cheeks flared a bright red with heat, lazily nudging kris’s head from atop your shoulder, his own head slumping into his palm with a drunken murmur to himself.

“y’know what!” kris began with an enthusiastic chirp not uncommon for her demeanour, still slurring her words with a contagious flair. both arms snaked around your’s and orange’s respective shoulders.

“i couldn’t have done it without you guys!” her words as incoherent as they were, still seemed to bellow over the thick ring of the music.

“i love you guys so much !” through her drunken sobs her body slumping forward slightly, trying to pet dustin’s shoulder in thanks, who was positioned at your side, her fingertips barely grazing the tops of his shoulder. she tried to repeat the process with a, quite frankly, more sober trent, pouting softly when she was unable to reach him, all the while orange was trying to peel the half empty beer bottle from his drunken friend’s hand.

dustin, in his own world it seemed, occasionally taking a swig from his beer, sitting idly about, he seemed out of it, not in a bad way per say. you stared up at him, all soft and doe eyed, glimmering with the mild intoxication that buzzed through your veins. you could not help but admire him, how incredibly handsome he looked, his hair had recently been cut, although you missed the shagginess of it at its longer length, his beard dark and coarse, with little flecks of grey hidden between tufts of deep espresso brown. the sight of him, although absent from presenting anything remotely sexual at the moment, seemed to make your thighs clench instinctively together, arousal burning in your belly.

you leaned your head into his shoulder, flirting through mutters of tipsy incoherence, a hand travelling to his thigh, stroking from his knee up to the axis of his hip. he stared down at you, a small scowl. a warning, albeit silent. on a normal night this would have surely put you in your place, cease your bratty actions once and for all. but no, not this night. tonight you desired him carnally, all raw, and primal, and god help whoever stood in your way of getting him, even dustin himself.

dustin went back to his conversation with trent, ignoring you for the moment, an act his should have avoided. under the table, your hand snaked from his thigh, guiding itself across his crotch, palming his cock through his jeans, feeling him stiffen up at the sensation, still not breaking conversation with trent. you felt a scowl form across your lips, the tingling taste of whiskey still lingered faintly. you increased the pressure of your hand for a moment, releasing when he let out a soft grunt, unbeknownst to the others on account of the loudness of the club, but you’d caught on right away.

he turned to you, eyes glaring with a look that surely could kill. he leaned down, the phantoms of his lips ghosting across the top of your ear, his breath tickling your skin, making you shiver in your seat.

“enough.” he replied sternly, feeling his cock harden with the small whine you emitted.

“but daddy…” you exaggerated the whine that left your lips, resting your head into his shoulder once more, pretending to be drunker than you actually were. you noticed dustin expression change slightly, the furrow in his eyebrows had deepened, as too did the scowl. he stood up, taking your hand tightly, almost a death grip, as the both of you shuffled out of the booth.

“we’re gonna head off now, this one’s had a bit too much to drink” dustin mentioned to the group, albeit trent was the only one sober enough to listen. you clinged to dustin’s arm trying not to make it painfully obvious that you were trying to position his hand between your thighs. trent stared blankly for a moment before coming too.

“i’ll drive you guys home” trent offered, having downed his last drink hours ago. “you guys coming?”

he mentioned toward orange, who sat slumped in the booth, sunglasses lazily hanging off the bridge of his nose, cheeks burning red with intoxication at he made eye contact with trent. you were not even sure why he was even wearing sunglasses in a club, and at midnight no less, but that’s just orange.

“we’ll stay back for a bit” he slurred. “gonna try to sober up”

he mentioned to a now unconscious statlander, having fallen asleep on the table, all the while orange pat the back of her head to try and soothe her out of her drunken state. the three of you bid them a silent farewell, in the form of a nod, orange wishing for you all to drive home safe before returning to tend to kris.

trent, dustin and yourself made your way out of the club, the spring wind a welcoming feeling against your heated cheeks, trent walked in front while yourself and dustin lingered behind just enough that he would not hear your ongoing whispers.

“daddy…” you whined again, the pulse between your thighs grew each time he stared daggers down at you.

“you’re so fucking lucky trent is here otherwise i’d fuck the brat out of you right where you stand” his voice, low, a growl set between clenched teeth. you piped down for the moment, remaining silent until the three of you reached the car, dustin holding the door for you as you drunkenly climbed into the backseat, him following suit.

trent started the route back to your place, silently concentrating on the road. eyes often shifting in the rear view mirror catching a glimpse of you slumped into the shoulder of his best friend. your head nestled into the crook of dustin’s neck, peppering tiny kisses to the skin, trying to gain a reaction from him, a moan, a grunt, anything that would pull him out of the frustrated spiral he was in.

his eyes fixated on you, another silent warning for you to cease your actions. the silence in the car was already awkward enough with trent being present. it surely did not help your current predicament, being all hot and bothered, a whirlpool of arousal between your thighs. in protest, placing dustin’s hand between your thighs, lightly beginning to grind your hips against his fingertips.

a small chuckle grew across his lips, pushing his fingers hard against your clothed clit, earning a small whimper on your part. he leaned into you once more, repeating those low whispers, the same he did at the bar.

“stop misbehaving or else.” he whispered, drawing circles into you clit

“or else what?” you responded meekly, trying to put on an unbothered, tough fecade although your words barely left your lips without a choked moan.

“i won’t let you cum for a week”

“maybe i want to keep teasing you” you remarked slyly at his threat, knowing it was indeed highly exaggerated. this man could not possibly live a week without making you orgasm.

“then be prepared for the worst week of your life”

trent cleared his throat, signalling the awkwardness in the car as he came to a halt in your driveway, deciding to completely ignore the statements made by the both of you, although the embarrassed red flush of his cheeks surely did not go unnoticed by dustin, who offered him a small apologetic glance in parting, practically dragging you inside.

once safe and out of sight inside, he had you pushed up against the doorframe, a hand wrapped around your throat tightly, his stare was devilish, unhinged, as if something snapped inside his mind. yet you could not complain, the arousal that flooded through you was more than enough to suffice.

“you got a lot of explaining to do, sweetheart” dustin mentioned, toying with the ends of your skirt with his free hand

“i don’t know what you’re talking about” you feigned ignorance through sputtered breaths, feeling your eyes already roll back into your skull at the sheer force of his grasp. his free hand slipped under your flowy skirt, the material so thin he could practically rip it, but refrained for now. two fingers pressed once more against your void, continuing to interrogate your already stimulated clit.

“do you think i’m an idiot, princess?” he pushed harder against your clit, leaving you squirming in his grasp, thighs tightening around his fingers. he rolled his eyes in disgust when you wouldn’t give him so much as a nod in response, prying his fingers away from your now soaked panties, releasing the grip on your throat much to your silent thanks, inhaling as much oxygen as you could, still choking and sputtering.

he said nothing, grabbing you by the scalp, a fistful of hair as he made you meet his gaze, a slap was all that roused you in that moment, harsh and fast it was, making your eyes water the moment he made contact with your cheek.

“when i ask you something you better answer me” was all he said, gripping your face in his large palm, still forcing you to look at him

“do you think i’m an idiot, princess?” he repeated, his voice sterner than last time, gaze fixated on yours with a mixture of fury and passion. all you could mutter was a solemn “no daddy” through a hoarse voice and teary eyes.

“then why do you treat me like one?” still no response from your part. even after another slap, nothing. you’d seemingly cowered into yourself, abandoning that bratty persona you’d adopted a few moments prior.

“what happened to that little brat i spoke to before?” he teased, tugging at the roots of your scalp. “guess my little girl doesn’t want my cock that badly”

you furrowed your eyebrows, frustrated with his incessant teasing, responded by calling him a bastard amongst a list of other defaming names. he only remarked with a chuckle.

“there she is” he joked. “get your ass upstairs, princess”

although he would not let you move on your own volition, instead opting to drag you up the stairs by your hair. although the act left your scalp sore and your mind throbbing with a possible headache, your cunt yearned for more, yearned for the mix of pain and pleasure it created. even when he came to a halt at the top of the stairs to open your bedroom door, his grip was still taut, a pleasurable sting. he dragged you into the room, still by your hair, throwing you onto the bed without so much as a worry for your safety.

you must admit you enjoyed this side of dustin, the more aggressive and assertive side of him, the one who could fuck you numb and degrade you constantly, have your legs shaking and leave you breathless writhing in a pool of your own warmth and his. his body hovered over yours momentarily, as if he were leaning in to plant kisses to your neck, you closed your eyes in waiting, only to hear the shrieking tear of fabric as he ripped your top clean from the seams. you gasped at the sensation of cold air hitting your skin

“dustin!” you broke your act momentarily, staring at the now ripped piece of fabric in his palm. he gave a small chuckle and tossed it to the floor at the foot of the bed.

“don’t worry i’ll buy you a new one” he dismissed the article of clothing, hands now retrieving the waistband of your skirt, tugging the fabric down your legs as you kicked off your heels. his dominant demeanour returned upon seeing the gorgeous matching set that adorned your figure. it was a canary yellow ensemble, the material sheer and lace on both the bralette and panties, embroidered with lace butterflies that laid atop the material.

his throat ran dry, gazing upon you as if you were an object of desire, in truth that’s how he felt in that moment, that you were merely an object for him to fuck. he gulped thickly, ignoring the constant pursuit to break the scene. he made no effort to remove your bra for the moment, simply repeating the process of sliding down your panties as he did your skirt. his fingers dancing over your clit for the moment, a faint sensation that simply made you unravel before him.

“i thought you weren’t gonna let me cum?” you questioned cocking an eyebrow playfully at him

‘tonight doesn’t count” he remarked bluntly, tracing circles against your clit like he had previously done in the car. your back arched, hips driving into the mattress and his fingers had barely touched you. feeling yourself beginning to write in pleasure

“stop squirming” he demanded, noticing you squirm into yourself. he let two fingers dip past your dripping folds. a soft exhale left your lips, body still disobeying his words, despite having repeated himself. without another word he pried his fingers from your warmth, much to your dismay as he had barely just begun. he was quiet, simply walking over to the closet, a treasure trove of not only clothes, but toys, rope, harnesses and so much more.

he was in there for a minute or so, your body slowly winding down from the lack of pleasure despite your protests and dustin’s previously stated orders, he surely would not like if he were to reemerge and find you touching yourself. he reappeared from the darkness of the closet, rope in hand. it was a simple brown twine rope, one that had left burn marks across your wrists many times over. still in silence, he made quick work in removing your bra, taking no time to admire your breasts as he bound your wrists, in front of you, pulling the rope taut, your breasts now pushed together, accentuating their fullness. it was now where he took the time to gaze upon you, how the swell of your breasts were so round hand full, your nipples perky and stiff from the chill of spring air.

you peered up at him, his handprint still visible across your cheek from where he had earlier slapped, though the reddening had depleted. he grew hard in his jeans once more just at the sight of you half-bound. it made him question if he should fully restrain you, leave you completely helpless and at his mercy. he refrained for now.

“what did i say to you before, princess?” still noticing your squirming, he fiddled with the leftover rope in his hand, about two to three metres left in length, quite easy enough to bind your legs if need be. it was a silent signal for you to halt your movements. you did. spreading your legs wide for him as a mild apology.

the silence had now flooded the room, not in an awkward way. he was commanding you without the use of his voice, it seemed to be more effective as something so simple as a glance with a stern expression could make you obey with in seconds. he let his finger slip into your warmth again, not even letting you adjust to the new sensation before he began to curl upward, hitting every spot that made you whine and beg.

“such a naughty little slut, making me tie you up and use you like this” his tone was soft, breathing lustfully in your ear, although passion reflected in his words his main goal was to torment you, make you cry and beg for release, overstimulate you to the point of tears.

his body once more over yours, free hand cupping your cheeks, offering light slaps to them each time your eyes began to wander elsewhere other than his.

“is this what you wanted, princess? to be fucked out and toyed with?”

no answer on your part, your cunt full of his fingers, dripping and sloshing with wetness, it was the only sound that drowned out his voice.

“i know it feels good, little slut, but you better fucking answer me or else i’ll stop”

not wanting the pleasure to end you whimpered out a small yes, eyes peering down to try and catch a glimpse of the way his fingers ruined you. only for him to redirect your gaze to his eyes.

“you look at me. nothing else. i wanna see your face as i ruin you, understand?”

he increased the speed of his fingers, making sure your mind was on nothing else but pleasure. your belly swirled in waves of arousal, cunt clenching around his large fingers, feeling them dip and curl into every crevice of your void.

“yes daddy…” you felt your mind empty, void of any thought as pleasure took over. dustin’s fingers were heavenly, how he could command and control you so easily. an almost rhythmic thrum was building between your thighs, even though your hands were tied, you made desperate attempts to push his hands away, whines and moans catching in your throat.

“what’s the matter? i thought you wanted this?” he mocked, adding a third finger for good measure, not stopping until you were dripping around him.

“daddy, please!” you cried, on the verge of tears, watching yourself spill around his fingers like a fountain. dustin smirked down at the site, licking a long, slow stripe against your folds, gathering your sweetness on his tongue, despite how sensitive you had become, your body jolted with pleasure.

he dragged you from the bed by your wrists, tugging the leftover rope until you were at his knees on the floor. still quiet, although that frightening scowl had returned, his fingers still dripping with your juices.

“i never said you could cum” he remained stoic, body looming imposingly over your frame. he parted your lips with his fingers, allowing you to sample your juices, tongue swirling around the tips of his fingers as you cleaned yourself from him. sucking lightly at his fingertips as he forced them down the back of your throat, earning a choked gag in response.

“just for that, you can choke on my cock, sweetheart” his tone was mocking and intimidating, prying his fingers from your lips, allowing you to barely get a singular breath of air in as he quickly stripped himself, only partially as his jeans rested mid-thigh on him. you kept your lips sealed, still trying to suck in breaths through your nostrils, earning yet another malicious chuckle from him as he lined up the tip of his cock with your mouth.

“open your fucking mouth” he demanded. “don’t make me force myself in there, princess”

still you kept your lips shut, squeezing them for added effect. dustin let out a faux defeated sigh, taking your head in his hand, resuming the hair pulling from earlier, beginning to guide his tip into your mouth.

“fucking brat.” he mumbled to himself with the clear intention for you to hear. spitting in your face as a form of degradation, the glob dripping down your chin and neck. upon realising you would not budge, he forced his cock past your lips, nestling himself in the back of your throat, in protest of your chokes and coughs as he gathered bundles of your hair in his palms.

“i warned you.” he reminded, making haste in destroying your throat, not offering a shred of sympathy as he began his movements. so rough and fast you felt as if you were going to pass out.

“there’s my little cockwhore. You love choking on my dick, don’t you?” no response was guarenteed given your current predicament, instead responding by hollowing your cheek with such a lovely effect for him.

his grunts and growls were supported by violent thrusts, ones that left you sputtering with spit dripping down your chin and around his size. oh how you wished your hands were free from such restraints, despite being tied at your front, there was little leeway in terms of movement, considering he held the rope taut in his hands, having looped it around his palm so that it shortened to its desired length, your hands barely in reach of his shaft.

you hollowed your cheeks the furthest they could go, constricting with pleasure around his cock, it was evident by the drawn out “fuck” he let out. a thin build up of sweat clung to his hairline, mouth hung agape with breathless pants, eyes fluttering shut, feeling him near his release.

he did not want the feeling to end, despite nearing his orgasm he wanted to prolonged the assault on your throat for as long as possible.

“fuck, youre such a fucking whore for me, baby.” he grunted with a particularly rough thrust. “you love this don’t you- oh fuck yes!, you love sucking daddy’s cock”

your eyes were glassy, waterlines rimed with tears as you peered up at him.

“have i fucked your throat nice and good baby? oh yes of course i have, there’s not a thought in that dumb little mind, is there?”

the sensation of his fingers digging into your scalp the closer he got to orgasm was insane, leaving your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as puddles of spit and precum filled the valley of your breasts. taking every inch of him until your nose was nestled in a mound of trimmed hair. he held you down for a moment, emptying his seed down your throat with one final thrust, keeping you there until he’d fully drained himself.

“oh fuck…” he moaned through a small gasp, pulling his cock from the warm dampness of your mouth. your cheeks full of his cum, having not swallowed any unless he gave explicit orders to do so.

“show me” he ordered. complying, you opened your mouth, letting his cum drip from your tongue onto your breasts, the glossy substance dripping down across your perky nipples. he stared for a moment, loving the way your round breasts heaved with every deep inhale.

“fucking whore. look at you, you look so happy to be covered in cum, don’t you? bet it gets you real wet, doesn’t it? wishing that your pathetic cunt could be full of daddy’s seed? is that it, sweetheart?”

he slapped you harshly, trying to rouse you from your cock-induced trance. your mouth still hung open, still patiently waiting for his next command. he leaned once more over your body, letting another glop of spit fall directly onto your tongue before closing your mouth, a silent order for you to swallow. you did.

his hand still entangled in your hair, dragging you once more to the bed, laying you face down this time. once more retreating to the closet after kicking off his jeans completely. your hands buried beneath your figure, trying desperately to stroke your clit for a few seconds while he was out of sight. he reemurged with a pastel pink ball gag and some extra rope just incase he needed it, pulling your hair back as he fastened it in your mouth, spit leaking from the corners.

you tried your best to turn and see what he was doing, him having maneuvered your legs so they laid apart, securing each of them to the bed frame with the extra rope.

“can’t have you running away from me now can i?” he chuckled sadistically, securing the final knot around your ankle. the mattress dipped with his weight, forcing your head down into the mattress. “now, shut the fuck up and take my cock”

you were complicit, you had no other choice. your words restrained by the gag, even if you were to speak, your words would be muffled and choked. he slammed into your cunt with ease, a feeling that caught you off guard momentarily as he gave you no prior warning or no time to adjust to his size. you could feel him in the pit of your stomach, his cock driving into the mattress through your skin. your body buzzing, the intoxicating effect of the alcohol had worn off, now replaced with an burning insatiable lust for him. his large hand held you in place all the while his cock absolutely destroyed you. the feeling unlike any other.

your screams of pleasure muffled against the gag, face hot and clammy from crying out, tears formed a puddle in the sheets. dustin cocked his head, raising an eyebrow in faux concern, feeling the warm pulse of your sensitive cunt begin to rise.

“don’t you start crying on me. this is what you wanted” he growled heightening the force of his thrusts.

“you asked for this princess, otherwise why would you’ve been such a fucking tease back at the club?”

your mind grew fuzzy, pleasure taking over as it did when he had his cock shoved down your throat. thighs beginning to shake, completely numb to the orgasm that rushed through you, soaking dustin’s cock and the bedsheets below.

“oh, princess. you can’t have cum that quick” he mocked, adoring the wet sound of skin on skin. “c’mon, i know you got another one in you”

he continued to fuck you through your second orgasm of the night, slowing down momentarily until your arousal had plateaued before speeding up his momentum again. you spoke something along the lines of “daddy, no more” although they were incoherent due to the gag. he could sense your orgasm building once more, your hips bucking back to meet his thrust, fingers clutching and grasping at air trying to toy with yourself. dustin loved the way your plump ass jiggled with his movements, spanking it roughly with a resounding smack that reverberated around the room. the pulse had returned, stronger than ever around his cock, he could feel himself slipping from such a dominant persona, hearing you whine and scream for him.

“that’s it you pathetic slut. c’mon milk my cock. you want all of daddy’s cum don’t you? be a good girl and take it all of it”

you laid, practically motionless beneath him aside from the occasional jolt whenever he gave a particularly rough thrust. feeling yourself give into the wonderful abuse of his cock. sweetness gushed around his length, unknown to you, mind too fucked out to even comprehend your orgasm. he’d noticed though, smiling down at the pool of wetness between your thighs, it only seemed to spur him on more, fucking you with the most absolute brute force he could muster, before succumbing to his own orgasm.

thick ribbons of his cum filling you to the brim, leaking down his shaft even before he had the chance to pull out of you. he gave a final grunt, praise without words it seemed, his cock coated in your sweetness as well as his warmth. he was gentle with his movements, quickly undoing the ropes from you ankles, flipping you over so he could do the same with your wrists. removing the gag from your mouth in quick succession, smoothing back some of the hairs that clung to your forehead with sweat.

“it’s ok sweetheart, you’re safe. i’m here now” he peppered a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose, following it up with a longer one to your lips

“my sweet girl…you did so well” he joined you on the bed, cradling your head in his chest, allowing you to listen to the soft thrum of his heartbeat.

“you alright, princess? i didn’t hurt you too bad did i?” his words soft, lulling you out of the minor trance you’d fallen into. his thumb daintily swiping across the top of your cheek, where the faint remnants of his handprint remained

“i’m fine…” you muttered somberly, nuzzling into his chest. “i’m sorry for the way i acted”

truthfully you did feel embarrassed about the way you’d acted, especially in public too, god knows what thoughts were going through poor trent’s mind during the car ride home, knowing he’ll have to deal with an equally, if not more embarrassed dustin tomorrow. you wondered to yourself if he had the heart to tell orange and kris the real reason dustin and yourself had left so early

“hey, sweetheart, don’t worry. its okay.” his arm snaked around your shoulder, squeezing it softly for reassurance.

“i know i just can’t help but feel embarrassed. especially for the others”

“orange and stat were probably too drunk to even realise, and trent has had to deal with a lot worse, trust me he’ll get over it”

his statement put a smile on your face, even for a moment as you relished in his warmth. feeling your breath begin to stabilise. he held you close. he did not need to but felt as if he had to, especially after such a violent and aggressive scene. he let you just relax into him, smoothing the flyaways of your hair down with his palm, cleaning any makeup that had smeared on your face.

“c’mon, lets get you cleaned up, and then we’ll lay on the couch and watch your favourite movie. how does that sound?”

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

[jungle-angel]

The One Where They Go To Florida: Part 3 (Frat!Rhett x Reader)

Summary: Florida Fuckfest has only begun and already Rhett can see why you never ever trust somebody named Kelso from Wisconsin

Warnings: Frat boy shenanigans, spring break ragers etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse @attapullman @callmemana

The Delta Tau Epsilon party was in full swing, the alcohol flowing in rivers as Kyle Shanahan deejayed all the music. Lizzo's "Boys" blared from the speakers while the herd of drunken college students from all over the states danced to the music. But out on the deck of the beach house, an entirely different set of shenanigans was ensuing.

"Kelso, this is the dumbest idea ever," Rhett told him.

"Oh c'mon it'll be fun!!" Danny Kelso insisted.

"Dude are you stoned?" Kayce questioned. "Did you cross-fade?"

"No."

"KELSO!!!!"

Danny was relentless in his venture. No matter how hard the big brothers could try, he was utterly relentless, desiring nothing more than to prove the point that he could indeed, ride a canoe down the deck stairs.

"Bruh, ya'll'er fuckin nuts," Bo remarked, his thick Mississippi drawl interrupted by a monster burp.

"What? You guys have never ridden in a canoe before?"

"Kelso do you forget that half of us are from land-locked states?" Kayce queried.

"No."

"Kayce there ain't no arguin with this one," Rhett sighed shaking his head. "Guess we're just gonna have to let nature take its course."

"ALRIGHT I'M GOIN FOR A RIDE!!!!" Danny shouted excitedly.

"Bro just promise us one thing?" Ravi told him.

"What?"

"Wear these."

Kelso was a little dumbfounded when Ravi handed him the athletic cup and Rhett's football helmet. "What do I need these for?"

"It's so your melon doesn't get hit on the way down," Kayce answered.

The boys fitted him with everything he needed before Kelso went to the top of the deck and gave a running start. He jumped feet first into the canoe, cheering as the thing clattered down the deck stairs.

"OH SHIT!!!!!"

Down the stairs, through the pool shed, across the pool, down the dock and skidding into the water, went the canoe with Kelso in it, the shattered boards of the pool shed following in his wake.

"Oh my God," Rhett chuckled.

"Total destruction," Kayce said.

Kelso came hobbling back as soon as he had paddled the canoe to shore and left it near the gate. "HOOOOLY SHIT I WANNA GO AGAIN!!!!" he hollered excitedly.

The boys groaned knowing it was gonna be a a long two weeks of not only looking after the pledges, but Kelso as well.

"Think he's gonna survive spring break?" Kayce asked.

"If he's anything like his uncle who was here in the 70s?" Rhett said. "Probably not."

But either way, they were willing to find out.

[discount-shades]

From Austin

a/n: I wanted to try something a little different. Inspired by Zach Bryan’s song From Austin. You don’t have to listen to the song but it is a good song so you should. ;)

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Reader

Warnings: angsty-ish, questionable military accuracy

Word Count: 1100 ish

Summary: Jake reflects on his failed relationship.

Masterlist 

Jake lets the whiskey roll over his tongue before swallowing; the rye burning his throat and settling heavy in his empty stomach. The pictures went up on social media today. Pictures of you in a white dress in the same cut you had worn to senior prom. You were smiling, dancing, and kissing the groom. A man who wasn’t him. He couldn't blame you, he was the one who had ended it and you had finally gotten what you wanted. Jake took another drink, at least the burn of the whiskey let him feel something. 

When you and Jake had graduated he had given you a promise ring and left for the Naval Academy in Annapolis the same week. For four years you had flown to Maryland every chance you had to see him, and he had flown home to Austin just as often. That is when the fights had started. Not big fights but little arguments, you wanted more of him than the Navy would let him give. He should have known his relationship was doomed then, but he was blinded by love and the promise of a future with you. 

After that it was flight school. He had done everything in his power to get stationed at Corpus Christi but his papers said Florida. You had cried, but it was only six months. You had spent four years apart. What was six more months? 

He was flying and studying so much in those six months he barely had time to call let alone plan some type of visit. You had planned to come up to surprise him for his birthday. He had had last minute training scheduled and he hadn’t gotten to see you. You had called him from the airport while boarding the plane back to Texas. All he could do was apologize while you cried into the speaker. 

Intermediate and advanced training was more of the same. He had requested Kingsville, Texas. Anything to get him in the same state as you. He remembers your face when he told you he was training in Meridian, Mississippi. “Ok,” was all you had said, “we will plan for when you are done training.” 

Your disinterest had hurt more than your tears. You had gotten a job in a bank and had been working there for over a year when he was finally done training. You had built a life in Austin without him and you didn’t want to leave. He had begged you to come with him to Lemoore. His squadron was on Shore Duty for one more year when he was assigned. Eventually you had relented and the two of you moved in together. 

It had been one of the happiest times in his life. The two of you rented a little bungalow and he got to wake up to the smell of your shampoo and the feel of you in his arms. There were little fights but he had been apart from you for almost six years at that point. It was natural that there would be an adjustment period. Your smile was the same. The spark that would light up your eyes when he came home was still there. There was still love in your kiss. He gave you everything the Navy didn't take first. But, in hindsight, it wasn’t enough. There was never enough of him left for you.

It was during the year in Lemoore he had bought the engagement ring. A halo diamond with diamonds in the band. Forget four months' salary. He had been saving since the Naval Academy. But the time was never right for the proposal. He would have weekend training, or you would have a bad day at work. Either way he never got around to it. 

You had a hard time finding a job in Lemoore and ended up underemployed working as a receptionist. You hated the job, hated Lemoore. You loved him and that was the only thing keeping you there. When he was called away for training for a few weeks here and there it had not helped. The frustration in your eyes, when he packed to leave, was evident.

When he was up for deployment you were actually happy. You made arrangements to return to Austin while he was still in work ups. During his deployment contact had been infrequent. You had even declined to meet him in Hawaii when he had shore leave there. You had work and couldn't get away, or so you said. It was during that deployment he realized the relationship was over; it had felt like a punch to the gut.

Sitting across the table from you upon his return from his first deployment he knew he would have to be the one to end it. You loved him enough that you would never leave him but that was it. The commitment of a southern girl who wanted a life and a family he could never give. 

Being a Navy wife wasn’t for you and Jake wanted to stay in the Navy after his initial commitment was up. You had been with him for over a decade and most of it was spent in different time zones. People ruin people. How much more of this relationship could you stand before you got bitter? Before your love turned to resentment?

He thought back to the day he had given you the promise ring. You had thrown your arms around his neck and kissed him, swearing you would never take it off. And it still circled the fourth finger on your left hand. After over eight years on your finger there was an indentation where it sat, an imprint of the love you had once shared and the vow of a future that would never be. 

Jake took the ring off for you, releasing you from your promise. You didn’t fight him. You had just nodded in understanding and agreed it was for the best. 

When he packed his truck and drove past the city limit sign of Austin he knew he would never be back. He could still see you in the passenger seat, the way you had looked when the two of you had first moved to Lemoore. The ghost of your smile living in his memory. 

You had kept the promise ring but the engagement ring was currently sitting in the box in front of him with the lid open. The ring is still perfect, no scuffs and dirt from the love of everyday wear and tear. He picks up the ring and drops it in his glass before draining the contents, the ring rattling at the bottom with the ice until he adds more whiskey.

[reasoningdaily]

Even the most nonsensical idioms in the English language originated somewhere. Some terms, like silver lining and tomfoolery, have innocuous roots, while other sayings date back to the darkest chapters in U.S. history. While these common phrases are rarely used in their original contexts today, knowing their racist origins casts them in a different light.

1. Tipping Point

This common phrase describes the critical point when a change that had been a possibility becomes inevitable. When it was popularized, according to Merriam-Webster, it was applied to one phenomenon in particular: white flight. In the 1950s, as white people abandoned urban areas for the suburbs in huge numbers, journalists began using the phrase tipping point in relation to the percentage of non-white neighbors it took to trigger this reaction in white city residents. Tipping point wasn’t coined in the 1950s (it first appeared in print in the 19th century), but it did enter everyday speech during the decade thanks to this topic.

2. Long Time, No See

The saying long time, no see can be traced back to the 19th century. In a Boston Sunday Globe article from 1894, the words are applied to a Native American speaker. The broken English phrase was also used to evoke white people’s stereotypical ideas of Native American speech in William F. Drannan’s 1899 book Thirty-One Years on the Plains and in the Mountains, Or, the Last Voice from the Plains An Authentic Record of a Life Time of Hunting, Trapping, Scouting and Indian Fighting in the Far West.

It’s unlikely actual Native Americans were saying long time, no see during this era. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, this type of isolating construction would have been unusual for the indigenous languages of North America. Rather, it originated as a way for white writers to mock Native American speech, and that of non-native English speakers from other places like China. By the 1920s, it had become an ordinary part of the American vernacular.

3. Mumbo Jumbo

Before it was synonymous with jargon or other confusing language, the phrase mumbo jumbo originated with religious ceremonies in West Africa. In the Mandinka language, the word Maamajomboo described a masked dancer who participated in ceremonies. Former Royal African Company clerk Francis Moore transcribed the name as mumbo jumbo in his 1738 book Travels into the Inland Parts of Africa. In the early 1800s, English speakers started to divorce the phrase from its African origins and apply it to anything that confused them.

4. Sold Down the River

Before the phrase sold down the river meant betrayal, it originated as a literal slave-trading practice. Enslaved people from more northerly regions were sold to cotton plantations in the Deep South via the Mississippi and Ohio rivers. For enslaved people, the threat of being “sold down the river” implied separation from family and a guaranteed life of hard labor and brutal conditions. A journal entry from April 1835 mentions a person who, “having been sold to go down the river, attempted first to cut off both of his legs, failing to do that, cut his throat, did not entirely take his life, went a short distance and drowned himself.”

5. No Can Do

Similar to long time, no see, no can do originated as a jab at non-native English speakers. According to the OED, this example was likely directed at Chinese immigrants in the early 20th century. Today, many people who use the phrase as general slang for “I can’t do that” are unaware of its cruel origins.

6. Indian Giver

Merriam-Webster defines an Indian giver as “a person who gives something to another and then takes it back.” One of the first appearances was in Thomas Hutchinson’s History of the Colony of Massachuset’s Bay in the mid 18th century. In a note, it says “An Indian gift is a proverbial expression, signifying a present for which an equivalent return is expected.” In the 19th century, the stereotype was transferred from the gift to the giver, the idea of an “equivalent return” was abandoned, and it became used as an insult. An 1838 N.-Y. Mirror article mentions the “distinct species of crimes and virtues” of schoolchildren, elaborating, “I have seen the finger pointed at the Indian giver. (One who gives a present and demands it back again.)”

Even as this stereotype about Indigenous people faded, the phrase Indian giver has persisted into the 21st century. The word Indian in Indian giver also denotes something false, as it does in the antiquated phrase Indian summer.

7. Cakewalk

In the antebellum South, some enslaved Black Americans spent Sundays dressing up and performing dances in the spirit of mocking the white upper classes. The enslavers didn’t know they were the butt of the joke, and even encouraged these performances and rewarded the best dancers with cake, hence the name.

Possibly because this was viewed as a leisurely weekend activity, the phrase cakewalk became associated with easy tasks. Cakewalks didn’t end with slavery: For decades, they remained (with cake prizes) a part of Black American life—but at the same time, white actors in blackface incorporated the act into minstrel shows, turning what began as a satire of white elites into a racist caricature of Black people.

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

A white supermajority of the Mississippi House voted after an intense, four-plus hour debate to create a separate court system and an expanded police force within the city of Jackson — the Blackest city in America — that would be appointed completely by white state officials.

If House Bill 1020 becomes law later this session, the white Chief Justice of the Mississippi Supreme Court would appoint two judges to oversee a new district within the city — one that includes all of the city’s majority-white neighborhoods, among other areas. The white state Attorney General would appoint four prosecutors, a court clerk, and four public defenders for the new district. The white state Public Safety Commissioner would oversee an expanded Capitol Police force, run currently by a white chief.

The appointments by state officials would occur in lieu of judges and prosecutors being elected by the local residents of Jackson and Hinds County — as is the case in every other municipality and county in the state.

Mississippi’s capital city is 80% Black and home to a higher percentage of Black residents than any major American city. Mississippi’s Legislature is thoroughly controlled by white Republicans, who have redrawn districts over the past 30 years to ensure they can pass any bill without a single Democratic vote. Every legislative Republican is white, and most Democrats are Black.

After thorough and passionate dissent from Black members of the House, the bill passed 76-38 Tuesday primarily along party lines. Two Black member of the House — Rep. Cedric Burnett, a Democrat from Tunica, and Angela Cockerham, an independent from Magnolia — voted for the measure. All but one lawmaker representing the city of Jackson — Rep. Shanda Yates, a white independent — opposed the bill.

“Only in Mississippi would we have a bill like this … where we say solving the problem requires removing the vote from Black people,” Rep. Ed Blackmon, a Democrat from Canton, said while pleading with his colleagues to oppose the measure.

For most of the debate, Jackson Mayor Chokwe Antar Lumumba — who has been publicly chided by the white Republicans who lead the Legislature — looked down on the House chamber from the gallery. Lumumba accused the Legislature earlier this year of practicing “plantation politics” in terms of its treatment of Jackson, and of the bill that passed Tuesday, he said: “It reminds me of apartheid.”

Hinds County Circuit Judge Adrienne Wooten, who served in the House before being elected judge and would be one of the existing judges to lose jurisdiction under this House proposal, also watched the debate.

Public Safety Commissioner Sean Tindell, who oversees the Capitol Police, watched a portion of the debate from the House gallery, chuckling at times when Democrats made impassioned points about the bill. Lt. Gov. Delbert Hosemann, the only statewide elected official who owns a house in Jackson, walked onto the House floor shortly before the final vote.

Rep. Blackmon, a civil rights leader who has a decades-long history of championing voting issues, equated the current legislation to the Jim Crow-era 1890 Constitution that was written to strip voting rights from Black Mississippians.

“This is just like the 1890 Constitution all over again,” Blackmon said from the floor. “We are doing exactly what they said they were doing back then: ‘Helping those people because they can’t govern themselves.'”

The bill was authored by Rep. Trey Lamar, a Republican whose hometown of Senatobia is 172 miles north of Jackson. It was sent to Lamar’s committee by Speaker Philip Gunn instead of a House Judiciary Committee, where similar legislation normally would be heard.

“This bill is designed to make our capital city of Jackson, Mississippi, a safer place,” Lamar said, citing numerous news sources who have covered Jackson’s high crime rates. Dwelling on a long backlog of Hinds County court cases, Lamar said the bill was designed to “help not hinder the (Hinds County) court system.”

“My constituents want to feel safe when they come here,” Lamar said, adding the capital city belonged to all the citizens of the state. “Where I am coming from with this bill is to help the citizens of Jackson and Hinds County.”

Opponents of the legislation, dozens of whom have protested at the Capitol several days this year, accused the authors of carving out mostly white, affluent areas of the city to be put in the new district.

In earlier sessions, the Legislature created the Capitol Complex Improvement District, which covers much of the downtown, including the state government office complex and other areas of Jackson. The bill would extend the existing district south to Highway 80, north to County Line Road, west to State Street and east to the Pearl River. Between 40,000 and 50,000 people live within the area.

The bill would double the funding for the district to $20 million in order to increase the size of the existing Capitol Police force, which has received broad criticism from Jacksonians for shooting several people in recent months with little accountability. The new court system laid out in House Bill 1020 is estimated to cost $1.6 million annually.

Many House members who represent Jackson on Tuesday said they were never consulted by House leadership about the bill. Several times during the debate, they pointed out that Republican leaders have never proposed increasing the number of elected judges to address a backlog of cases or increasing state funding to assist an overloaded Jackson Police Department.

Democratic members of the House said if they wanted to help with the crime problem, the Legislature could increase the number of elected judges in Hinds County. Blackmon said Hinds County was provided four judges in 1992 when a major redistricting occurred, and that number has not increased since then even as the caseload for the four judges has exploded.

In addition, Blackmon said the number of assistant prosecuting attorneys could be increased within Hinds County. In Lamar’s bill, the prosecuting of cases within the district would be conducted by attorneys in the office of Attorney General Lynn Fitch, who is white. Blackmon said the bill was “about a land grab,” not about fighting crime. He said other municipalities in the state had higher crime rates than Jackson. Blackmon asked why the bill would give the appointed judges the authority to hear civil cases that had nothing to do with crime.

“When Jackson becomes the No. 1 place for murder, we have a problem,” Lamar responded, highlighting the city’s long backlog of court cases. Several Democrats, during the debate, pointed out that the state of Mississippi’s crime lab has a lengthy backlog, as well, adding to the difficult in closing cases in Hinds County.

Lamar said the Mississippi Constitution gives the Legislature the authority to create “inferior courts,” as the Capitol Complex system would be. The decisions of the appointed judges can be appealed to Hinds County Circuit Court.

“We are not incompetent,” said Rep. Chris Bell, D-Jackson. “Our judges are not incompetent.”

Democrats offered seven amendments, including one to make the judges elected. All were defeated primarily along partisan and racial lines. An amendment offered by Rep. Cheikh Taylor, D-Starkville, to require the Capitol Police to wear body cameras was approved. Lamar voiced support for the amendment.

Much of the debate centered around the issue of creating a court where the Black majority in Hinds County would not be allowed to vote on judges.

One amendment that was defeated would require the appointed judges to come from Hinds County. Lamar said by allowing the judges to come from areas other than Hinds County would ensure “the best and brightest” could serve. Black legislators said the comment implied that the judges and other court staff could not be found within the Black majority population of Hinds County. When asked why he could not add more elected judges to Hinds County rather than appointing judges to the new district, Lamar said, “This is the bill that is before the body.”

[formyloveoflove]

Let Our Eyes Do the Talking (Okoye x Attuma)

Summary: Attuma x Okoye Stripper Modern AU. Attuma is a security guard at The Milaje, and veteran dancer Okoye's has had her eyes of him since his first night here. She wanted him, and the Midnight Angel (as her fans call her) always gets what she wants.

NSFW

Okoye just finished up when she heard him come through the backdoor. It was nine in the morning, a little uncharacteristic for her on a Tuesday, but she had been working on this new routine for a while and wanted to practice in the space.

The Milaje has been her home for two years now. She worked her way from cleaning poles and wiping tables to headlining on Saturday nights. She was a baddest bitch that defied gravity this side of the Mississippi. She was used to men gawking at her. Hell, that's how she afford groceries.

But stretched with her ass in the air, she could feel like eyes roaming as he stood still in the shadow. Similar to his first night there, he stood with his arms crossed. His muscles flexing under his tight black shirt. God, he was fine as hell.

"You gone run him away if you keep staring at him with your mouth open," Aneka mocked from her vanity as she reapplied her lipstick. Ayo laughed as she adjusted her breasts in her tiny bra, and then snatching a dark brown lipliner from her partner's makeup stand.

"He is fine, y'all," Okoye exclaimed as she moved from the curtain. She slips off her slides to put her dark blue pleasers on. "I saw him this afternoon, and had to change my panties." The room erupted in laughter. "I go to shake his hand, and he goes, 'Hey. I'm Attuma. Ha ha,'" mocking his nervous laughter, and the dancers knew exactly what she was talking about.

Okoye had a way of making people nervous. She had a face like a masterpiece and a body like a fantasy that she carried like sweet perfume in the wind. She was a dream. A very wet dream. And when she performed that night, the storm of bills did not distract from her having a certain newbie's full attention. That night, she gripped the pole extra hard, slid real smooth, swayed her hips, and hit every beat of the music. She felt his eyes lock in on her hands on her breast as she held the pole tightly between her luscious thighs. Upside down, she locked eyes with him, mouthing, "Hi, Attuma" with a smile. When his hand rubbed down his face, revealing a look of intrigue and frustration, she laughed.

She had him.

On that Tuesday, as she finished wiping the pole, and he still hadn't emerged from the shadows, she chuckled. "I know you're there, Peeping Tom. You making me nervous," she teased as she flashed him an Earth-shattering smile. He returned one, no longer bothering to hide his blush. When he finally settled in the light, Okoye soaked in his appearance. He was like a mountain come to life: strong and ridged, and she wanted to climb him from top to bottom. "Hi, Attuma."

"Hey," he twirled his keys before retuning them to his pocket. "You here early? Practicing."

She circled the pole. A siren on stage with a wicked smile. Attuma licked his lips as he moved closer to her. "Yea," she sighed. "I got this new routine. Could you watch me? I wanna hear your opinion."

"No, you don't," he said lowly, said it like whatever would be on his mind would make a nun blush. His eyes never left her like a predator waiting to pounce on their prey. She was praying that he would hurry up and eat her.

Staring him straight in the eye, "I do." She steps off the stage to plug her phone to the speaker, making sure to brush against his arm to feel his heat on her skin. Catching a hold of his hand, she wraps their pinkies together to pull him forward, teasing him even more. "Sit down, Attuma."

He obliged. As the opening notes to "Girls Need Love" by Summer Walker, Attuma's gaze made her shorts and sports bra feel even smaller. She made a show of stretching down her legs and squatting to roll her ass in his face.

Honestly, I'm tryna stay focused You must think I've got to be joking when I say

The way she leapt on the pole felt like she was flying. As she spun with her legs spread, she saw his Adam's apple bounce, and she was dripping. She clenched the metal, wishing it was something with more girth, more warmth, more bounce. She quickly gained some height. Using her momentum, she slowly circled the pole, flipping herself upside down and splitting her legs apart. Her heart pounded in her chest when she looked down and saw his eyes tracing her legs.

Give it to me like you need it, baby Want you to hear me screaming, heavy breathing I don't need a reason, baby

She released the pole. He gasped, and he was almost out of his seat until he say her catch it at the last minute. Comfortably making her way to the floor, she rolled her hips towards him, and he leaned into the base of his chair and threw his head back with a "Oh my god."

"Look at me, baby," she demanded, and his eyes snapped back immediately to catch her waist wrapping around the pole like a snake on a branch. She was gorgeous as her lace front caught the wind, and she thought to another reason why she could be knocking her head back.

Girls need love too (so what's a girl to do) Girls need love too (when she needs loving too) Girls, girls need love too

As the song came to an end, she used one arm to swing her body around until she settled on the floor. Using the last few beats to make her way towards him, she swings her hips in an aggravating and hypnotizing way. She leaned her hands on the back of the chair, towering over him to come dangerously close to his lips. "Hi, Attuma," she sung.

"Hi," it came out more breathy than he wanted.

"Do you have any notes?" her lips were a centimeter away from his. He shook his head. His lips brushed against hers, and she almost went crazy. She could feel her panties sticking to her.

"None," he whispered. His hands were ghostly white as he gripped the arms of the chair. Keeping his hands to himself - a gentleman's torture as his cock pressed against his zipper painfully. Okoye couldn't help but stare. She slowly moves her hands, toying with the zipper until his hands caught her wrist.

"Can I help you with that?" She smiled, feigning confidence when she really wanted to beg him to let her suck his dick. Maybe he saw that in her eyes because he leaned forward to capture her lips. He tasted like minty toothpaste, sending a freshness to her lungs as she breathe in him. She made quick of his zipper and moved to lower his pants, "Up, babe."

She slowly pumped his member. The warmth of his skin a welcomed sensation from the silkiness of the metal. Wooden floor boards dug into the skin of her knees as she blew on his tip. A shiver ran from his neck to his toes, and Okoye shimmed closer. Pressing a hand to her core as she took him into her mouth.

Swirling her tongue around the head as she palmed the base, a slow, "shit" escaped from his mouth as his fingers clenched the arm's chair tighter. Releasing him with a pop, salvia already collected around her mouth, she glanced up at him with doe eyes. The grit of his teeth, the redness of his face, the way his hair framed his face, god, he was beautiful.

"Hi, Attuma," she sighed, a pleasant grin on her face as she worked her hand on his shaft and balls below. She delivers a sweet pressure when she brings her thumb to his tip and squeeze. The vein in his neck popped deliciously, and she pressed her thighs together to alleviate the tension pulsing in her clit.

"Hi," he growled. A combination of annoyance and fascination, he tossed his head back. Intertwining their fingers, Okoye brings his hand to the base of her neck. She inhales deeply and takes him all in. The sweet moisture and suction of her jaws drove him crazy. "Okoye," he said her name like she was floating away from him. His hand guided her back and forth while the other, he ran through his silky black hair.

Seeing his eyes shut in pleasure brought a smile to her face. She chuckled on his dick. The sensation had him convulsing as his fingernails dug into her skin: harsh and sweet. Her hands found his thighs and pushed, keeping him open for her. He quickened the pace, and Okoye chocked so beautifully. Her tongue swipes were sloppy, and his voice bounced off the wall.

"Goddamn," he grunted. "Shit, shit, shit!" His body was shaking. Her core was aching. She slide him out of her mouth, applying a quick, harsh touch to the top of his cock, covered in a beautiful array of veins.

She smiled up at him, and his eyes were hard and wet as he glared down at her: one hand playing with her nipple and a devilish smirk on her face. Never breaking his gaze, she planted kisses up his shaft. "Hi, Att-"

"Hi, Okoye!" He was mad. And all she could do was laugh. Even when he was this close, he still humored her. He’ll learn to beg soon enough, she thought.

His pretty dick leaking with precum. She loved the way he tasted. She placed him back in her mouth, humming as she threw her neck back and forth. "Okoye," he cried as his foot stomped the ground. "Okoye."

With one final grunt that reverberated off the walls, his release sliding down her throat. She drank every last drop. When his hand relaxed and found her cheek, he slipped outside of her with a shaky breath, and his neck fell forward, slacked and forehead dripping with sweat. As he rejoined the land of the living, she placed him back in his pants, sealing the end of the zipper with a kiss to his lips. He pulled her into his lap, and her soaked shorts meet the dampness of his jeans. His lips thread down her neck, heading to her breast until she brought his face back to hers.

"You should take me to breakfast," she whispered into his ear.

"I'll take you to lunch," he laughed. His fingers slipped past her waistband, sinking into her wetness and relishing in the moan she gives him. "You just ate."

Can you tell I just got done rewatching P-Valley Season 2? My midterms are done, and I finally got this outta my head! I've been thinking about Dom! Okoye for the longest.

AO3 Link

Part Two is live!

Part Three is live!

[salvadorbonaparte]

US States in Yiddish

Alabama - אַלאַבאַמאַ

Alaska - אלאסקע

Arizona - אריזאנע

Arkansas - אַרקענסא

California - קאַליפארניע

Colorado - קאלאראדא

Connecticut - קאנעטיקעט

Delaware - דעלעווער

Florida - פלארידע

Georgia - דזשאָרדזשיע

Hawaii - האוואי

Idaho - איידאהא

Illinois - אילינוי

Indiana - אינדיאַנע

Iowa - אייאָווע

Kansas - קענזעס

Kentucky - קענטאקי

Louisiana - לואיזיענע

Maine - מעין/מײן

Maryland - מערילאַנד

Massachusetts - מאַסאַטשוסעטס

Michigan - מישיגן

Minnesota - מינעסאטע

Mississippi - מיסיסיפי

Missouri - מיזורי

Montana - מאנטענע

Nebraska - נעבראסקא

Nevada - נעוואדא

New Hampshire - ניו העמפשער

New Jersey - ניו זשערסי

New Mexico - ניו מעקסיקא

New York - ניו יארק

North Carolina - צפֿון־קאַראָלײַנע

North Dakota - צפון דעקאטע

Ohio - אָהײַאָ/אָהאַיאָ

Oklahoma - אקלעהאמע

Oregon - ארעגאן

Pennsylvania - פענסילוועניע

Rhode Island - ראוד איילענד

South Carolina - דרום קאראליינע

South Dakota - דרום דעקאטע

Tennessee - טענעסי

Texas - טעקסאס

Utah - יוטאַ

Vermont - ווערמאנט

Virginia - ווירדזשיניע

Washington - וואשינגטאן

(Washington D.C. - וואשינגטאן די סי)

West Virginia - וועסט ווירדזשיניע

Wisconsin - וויסקאנסין

Wyoming - וויאמינג

Disclaimer: I'm not a fluent speaker and don't currently have a Yiddish keyboard so I had to copy and paste these. Please tell me if there are any mistakes. Sorry for not always being able to include pasekh and komets alef. Some of these had alternative spellings in my textbook.

[greenmansgrove]

I’m trying to get back into the habit of evening walks/hikes, and after much deliberation this afternoon, I decided it was time to visit Quarry Island, which is off trail from Big Rivers Regional Trail. I was told it was a good place to find rocks — I’m on the hunt for some nice, round basalt. I found no rocks, since the waters were so high, but the island was gorgeous. You can see it from the overlook (first picture). I had to cross a railroad and wasn’t sure I was allowed out that way, but there was no one to stop me and I’m trying to build confidence anyway. The trail was on the map, so… off I went.

This area is known as Bdote to Dakota people, which is where the Minnesota and Mississippi rivers meet and lakes have sprung up. It is where many of the Dakota peoples originated, according to their stories. There are many beautiful plaques featuring Dakota (hi)stories and artwork. It was wonderful to read them and hear decolonizing insights about the advancements of the Dakota peoples and their stewardship of the lands before settlers arrived.

[ID: In the past, the Dakota people had no medical facilities or universities. Yet they survived and contributed to the world’s advancement through their own resources and systems of laws, customs, educational systems, and storytelling. The messaging features share Oceti Sakowin (Seven Council Fires) stories, creation stories commom to all Dakota people, and Hitunkakan Stories, traditional teaching stories that are specific to this landscape, so visitors may learn about Dakota worldviews and experience a gift of cultural knowledge. This project engaged Dakota elders, who are known first language Dakota speakers, and Dakota community members. Stories and lessons were selected with the intention to be appropriate for sharing with a larger audience. However, Dakota people have many versions of these stories, and they are all correct. Hecetu: this is so. This is Dakota Land. End ID]

The first and last couple sentences of this plaque really struck me, not out of surprise, but because it is rhetoric that would immediately shake up common white misconceptions about Indigenous lives and histories. Even as minor and obvious as these insights are, I do think shaking white settlers from complacency with such directness is invaluable. This blog is fervently supportive of Indigenous Land Back efforts, and I remain grateful for the educational work of Dakota peoples in spaces such as these.

As I strode off into the marshlands, redwing blackbirds and bank swallows were flying all around (see video! — ignore the tornado sirens, it’s Weather Awareness Day). Ducks nested in the reeds. Quarry Island itself is covered in mature swamp oaks, with evidence of a healthy mast year in the scattered acorn caps. The rocks made a perfect trail to the highest point in the island, where a large, almost altar-like rock sat (photos 2-4). The top was eroded from rainwater, and I left a snail shell I’d found further down in its hollow, wondering if the snail had made it that high in life. I offered clean drinking water, too. The rain I’d prepared to meet (I brought an umbrella!) was making its way across the lake at me, but I had some time before it arrived.

On the other side of the island was evidence others had been through. There were many buckthorn stumps and piles of branches. Some past visitor had neglected the first rule of rock flipping: put the rock back where you found it. So, I did my best to replace them. I found evidence of fires, too, and they were fairly fresh, based on the smell. At least they were on the rocks and not in the wooded areas.

By the time I made it back to the center of the island that the path bisected, the rain was coming in and the sun was beginning to set, signaling my time to return. I reached the overlook again just in time for sunset and took the first image. The rain was blowing upwards at me from below the bluff, hence the specs in the image. As I turned back towards my car, I saw this rainbow!

This was probably among my top five (if not top three) favorite hikes I’ve taken since I moved to MN. I will have to return to hike the rest of the trails north and south. I suggested the nearby firepits as a ritual site for my grove, too, so maybe we will all hike out to Quarry Island in the future.

[daddyhausen]

{ a/n } : the idea i got was far to long for a headcannon :3

• return – the elite •

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{ request for @alanangels }

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{ masterlists } | { aew masterlist } | { kenny omega masterlist } | { matt jackson masterlist } | { nick jackson masterlist }

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{ summary } – with the boys return at full gear, you thought you’d give them a little celebratory gift, despite their loss

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{ warnings } – 18+ { minors do not interact } group sex, public sex, oral sex { male receiving }, male + female masturbation, fingering, facefucking, facials, hair pulling, deepthroating, throatpie, praise kink, double vaginal penetration, anal penetration, anal sex, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, male + female orgasms, penetrative sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, internal cumshots, vaginal + anal creampies

{ word count } – 2.5k

{ pairing } – fwb fem!reader x the elite

{ genre } – smut

.•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•.

{ taglist } – @stxrrlightwrites13 @boutmachines @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @baysexuality @legit9thlunaticwarrior @slut4kennyomega @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @damnnhausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @nicoleveno14 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @baybay-boom @bonehead-playz @cherrytheeredheadmamaclaymore @crowleysqueenofhell @blaquekittycat

{ comment to be added to the taglist }

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pure adrenaline rushed through your veins just at the mere sight of them on your screen again. for what felt like an eternity that they had been away, and even now with their loss. you could not help but feel incredibly proud of them. they were your best friends after all, long before aew was even in its conception, you’d seen them through many championships and title defences, many loses and more.

and that entrance, it no doubt left a chill down your spine. the way all three of them stared down the barrel of the camera lens, the echoing screams of fans in attendance ringing through the speakers, it was almost as if they held their gaze directly into yours. it surely made your thighs clench together with anticipation, the way matt would shoot a playful wink into the lens, kenny repeating the action although with a much more flirtatious action, nick holding his gaze a mere second longer than the two before averting his attention towards the ring.

you could hear their indistinct chatter echoing through the arena hallways, a sensation made itself present between your thighs, you had not heard their collective voices in person for a little over two months or so, to say you missed it was an understatement. first of all, they did not know of your presence in the confines of their personal locker room, nor did you notify them of your sudden appearance beforehand. you wanted to surprise them and their return was definitely in need of celebration.

as their voices grew closer, more ever present in your mind despite trying to quell the arousal that raged between your thighs. you stripped off, throwing your clothes in a pile beside the velvet upholstered couch placed against the back wall, directly opposite the door. you took a seat in the centre of the couch. legs spread so your cunt would be in full view as they entered. you could not help yourself, already so needy and unashamedly wet, allowing two fingers to gingerly graze across your clit.

nick entered first, towel across his shoulder, breath heavy as he tried to regain it, completely oblivious to the sight present before him. matt followed soon after, tying whatever hair had fallen from the loose bun he had tied up, congratulating his brother for their return. you cleared your throat, instantly catching the attention of both brothers, nick stared at you wide eyed for a moment, almost in disbelief, while matt’s mouth hung slightly agape, eyes taking their time to scan your naked frame.

you waved seductively in their direction, a small giggle left your lips as kenny sauntered in. the oldest of the three seemingly in a world of his own, mindlessly chatting away as if the brothers were still listening. only for matt to slap him lightly across the chest to get his attention.

“are you boys just gonna stare or are you gonna say hello?” you remarked with a sultry smirk, prying your hand up from between your thighs, fingertips glossy with your sweetness as you dragged them across your pierced nipples. the three stammered over their words for a moment, it was kenny who was the first to speak up.

“y/n…” he exhaled shakily, as if his words were caught between a moan.

“what are you doing here…?” nick interjected, nudging his brother lightly with his elbow as matt’s mouth still hung agape.

you gave a small chuckle at the sight, arising from your position. their eyes followed your movements, the way your hips swayed slightly, the subtle bounce of your breasts as you made your way towards them.

“well…” you began, in a sort of breathy voice, the sound seemed to arouse the three, their ears pricked up at the sound. you positioned yourself in between matt and nick, wrapping your arms around the oldest of the two who had still yet to say a word. kenny entered the locker room fully, locking the door behind him, clearly understanding your intentions.

“i heard you boys were returning tonight, so i thought i might give you a little celebratory gift” your gaze was fixated on matt for the moment, holding yourself against the older buck’s chest, feeling his growing bulge press lightly against your abdomen

“b-but we lost…”, matt stuttered over his words, trying his best to regain eye contact and not let his eyes wander elsewhere. before you were about to answer, kenny interjected.

”however..” he placed his arm around the shoulder of the older buck. “the occasion still calls for a celebration”

the eldest of the three raised his eyebrows in a suggestive manner to the other two. the bucks seemingly got the hint, with nick grabbing your waist, securing you close to him, lips feverish, already starting to suck and bite against the skin of your neck. matt still seemed hesitant, a gulp thickly rising in his throat.

“c’mon matt, she came all this way” nick spoke, letting his hand fall between your thighs, gathering your sweetness on the pads of his fingertips. “look how fucking wet she is for us…would be a shame to just let it all go to waste”

matt eyed the two of you for a moment, small whimpers and moans fell from your lips as nick’s fingers filled you with such ease. kenny had already begun to strip himself, already down to his boxers in a matter of seconds, joining you and nick, tugging lightly at your nipple piercings all the while planting heated kisses to your lips. matt exhaled heavily, far too overcome with arousal to even convince himself otherwise.

matt threw off his jacket, making his way towards the couch, the rest of his clothes soon following suit. he took his seat at the end of the couch, slowly beginning to stroke his cock as kenny and nick joined him , mimicking his actions. you took your place in front of nick first, kneeling between the younger buck’s thighs. licking a hot stripe up the underside of his shaft, palm wrapped around the base of his cock. nick threw his head back even at the slightest of contact. your tongue twirling around the tip of his cock

kenny and matt watched on in awe, their own cocks resting idly in their palms, awaiting your next move. slowly your head sunk down, lips wrapped around nick’s shaft, taking his entire length down your throat in one fatal gulp.

“fuck…” he groan, making a point not to touch you for now, although it left him suffering, nails digging into his thighs, knuckles almost bone white from the restraint

“she sucks your cock fucking well. i can’t wait to fuck her throat-“ kenny remarked in a jovial tone although his sentence cut off at the end by a choked moan. matt remained, quiet, reserved. avoiding eye contact except for the occasional glance here and there, stroking his cock absentmindedly.

nick’s groans of pleasure echoed through the air, his breath became heavy and laboured. your hand reached up kenny’s thigh, palm barely wrapping around the base of his thick shaft, slowly beginning to jerk him off as nick’s orgasm continued to rise. if only you had the reach, you’d jerk off matt as well.

you peered up into the younger buck’s baby blues, his pupils blown and lust filled, on the verge of release. you sunk your head lower, his entire length hitting the back of your throat with every movement of your head.

“fuck! i’m cumming-“ nick announced, his cum painting the back of your throat white before he could even complete his announcement. you sucked him dry, milked him for every drop of his cum before swallowing his seed greedily. nick made his way down from the couch, taking a couple of seconds to pepper your lips with sweet gentle kisses before moving behind you, fingers slipping between your slick folds, filling your up once more.

you quickly moved onto kenny, the blond giving you no time to adjust yourself to his size as he slammed his cock down your throat. a choked gag left your lips, moans reverberating around the eldest’s cock. you reached up to matt for some kind of reprise, repeating the actions you did with kenny previously, wrapping your hand around his shaft and jerking him off

matt blushed at the sight, hips bucking up to meet the movements of your hand. kenny held fistfuls of your hair, now standing up as he used your throat as his own personal fleshlight.

“your throat feels so fucking good, princess” kenny growled through gritted teeth. sweat still clung in beads at his hairline.

“i just know you love the way we use you, baby” nick grunted, the slickness of your folds giving his fingers easy access. matt still remained silent, even his moans were not to the same calibre as that of kenny and his brother. and you did not seem to understand why.

kenny came down your throat without warning, leaving you choking and gagging on his cum, abruptly pulling out of your mouth as you turned your attention to matt. kenny stood to the side of you, still jerking off his thick cock, wanting to paint your face with his seed. nick’s fingers still ruined you, slowing down his pace for the moment as you wrapped both hands around matt’s shaft, scooting yourself closer as you gave his tip little kitten licks.

“sweetheart…please” matt moaned as you continued to tease him, lips parting the slightest to just wrap around the tip of his cock. your thighs grew weak beneath you, nick’s fingers bringing you closer and closer to orgasm. kenny smirked down at the sight, adoring the way you squirmed back into the younger buck. you hollowed your cheeks around matt’s length in an effort to increase his pleasure, slowly beginning to bob your head as a moan ripped through your throat, reverberating around matt’s cock.

“f-fuck” matt groaned through a whisper, in a failed attempt to keep himself quiet, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear that had fallen in front of your face. you peered up at him through red, glassy eyes, throat sore and fucked out, yet determined to make him cum. thick pulses of pleasure thrummed between your thighs, pretty cunt clenching around nick’s fingers, the younger buck alerting the other two of your impending orgasm.

“god she’s so fucking close…” nick announced

“fuck…me too” kenny grunted, fingers resuming their place, interlocked in your hair, feverishly pumping his cock. cum dripped down the blonde’s shaft, coating your pristine features in white, all the while your sweetness gushed around nick’s fingers. matt peered down at the sight, your face covered in his best friend’s cum, cunt filled to the brim, with his brother’s fingers. you looked ruined, completely fucked out and the night had barely just begun.

matt let his eyelids flutter shut, savouring the feeling as his cock sunk deeper down the back of your throat. his hips started to buck slowly. the feeling of his orgasm steadily rising, nails gripping the armrest of the couch. his choked out a moan, gasping with pleasure as you milked him of his seed, his hot cum coating your tongue, mingling with your taste buds as you swallowed him thankfully.

you did not allow him time to catch his breath, pushing him back onto the couch, so he was now lying down, your hips now straddling his. kenny and nick were quick to take their positions behind you, nick hovering slightly higher than kenny, the younger buck lining the tip of his cock with your tight ass, letting a glob of spit fall into his palm, stroking himself once more with the absence of lubricant. kenny’s cock teased your cunt, as did matt’s, the two silently arguing who gets to fuck you first.

nick pushed himself deep into your puckered hole, allowing you to adjust to the size of him for a moment. smirking softly as you backed your ass up against him, taking him deeper. slowly you lowered your hips down, feeling matt and kenny’s sizes fill your void. an extended whine left your lips, body succumbing to the feeling of three cocks stuffing your pretty holes completely.

kenny sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, being the first of the three to move, slowly jutting his hip forward, fingers entangled in the mess of your hair, tugging the slightest. your hands rested upon matt’s chest, nails sinking into his skin, the flesh starting to redden, enough to bruise but not to draw blood. the older buck stared up at you for a moment, you on top of him, breathless, panting, stuffed with cock, eyes squeezed shut at the sensation. his pupils were blown with lust, completely shadowing the warm brown of his irises. he leaned up, pecking your lips sweetly, before deepening with a much more aggressive kiss.

“fuckfuckfuck-” you cried against matt’s lips. hips bucking back to meet the vicious thrusts of his brother. nick slammed into you with violent thrusts. your tight hole clinging to his thick size.

“such a good girl for us…” nick growled, leaning back the slightest, watching your pretty ass bounce against his cock.

“her cunt feels so fucking good…don’t you think so, matt?” kenny mentioned, referring to the older of the two siblings, matt could only nod, frantically, on the edge of release himself. nick let his hand come down against your plump ass cheek, spanking the supple flesh as hard as he could muster. a pleasured cry escaped your parted lips, cunt clenching at the sensation, which in turn made kenny and nick groan in arousal

“gonna cum…gonna cum” you chanted, repeating absentmindedly like a mantra. an echo of lustful whines filled their ears, that of corrupted angels singing sinful hymns.

“cum for us, sweetheart…make a mess all over our cocks” matt finally chimed in with more than a one-worded sentence, cupping your cheeks softly. kenny still had his fingers entangled in your hair, pulling back ever so slightly, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. nick was the first to release, a low groan emitting from clenched teeth as he filled you to the brim, breeding your pretty puckered hole until he drained himself dry, pulling himself out, he watched on as kenny soon came close to his own orgasm.

“oh fuck-” kenny panted, slamming into you with such lovely force, nicks cum dripping from your tight little asshole. kenny was the next to cum, slamming into you one final time, burying his cock to the brim upon his release, slowly fucking through his orgasm and your own. you came around kenny and nick, milking their cocks as your cunt clenched around their sizes, juices dripping down their shafts. matt could not hold on much longer, not even needing to announce his orgasm, simply painting your walls white, just like kenny and nick had done previously.

you had never felt so full in your entire life. matt and kenny pulled out, leaving you with an uncertain emptiness, it made you feel uneasy to be without their cocks. your cunt left wet, holes dripping with their seed. kenny gulped thickly through shaky breaths, alerting the to bucks of his next words.

“what do you guys think, how about we go another round?”

“i’m in!” nick chirped

“me too” matt responded, still slightly dazed from his orgasm. “but i get to eat her out first!”

“deal!” kenny remarked, turning to you as you slowly came around

“what do you say, princess? think you can go another round?”

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