#am i drawing more to avoide my responsibility?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 9

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Fear courses through you; bolsters you. You tighten you grip and feel how he tenses with it. You squeeze him firmly and pump him. The hot friction draws a groan from him. You pause, unsure if it’s a noise of delight or something else. 

He reaches for you. You flinch. He pokes your thigh, once, twice, and three times before you take the hint. You open your legs and he swipes his fingers up and down your cunt. He swirls around your slickness, soaking himself in it, then recoils.  

He pushes your hand away and spreads your juices around his turgid length. As he did before, he brings you grip to him. He puts his hand around yours and guides you in a smooth motion. 

He shudders and lets out a shaky drone. He does it again and pushes his chest out. He squeezes your hand before he lets you go. You keep your hand moving. That’s what keeps him from hurting you. If you do as he wants. You only dread when you don’t know what he wants. So long as he stays quiet, you’ll have to keep guessing. 

He stretches his arm across you and grabs your shoulder. He turns you to face him. You let him guide you. You put your head on his shoulder and keep working him. He groans as his fingers curl tightly into your flesh. He grits his teeth and closes his eyes. 

He tickles down your arm and traces down to your side. He follows the curve of your waist and hip and draws his touch back up. His fingertips continue to wander, almost curiously as he hums and huffs. 

He brings his hand up behind your head and clutches your hair. The roots strain in his grasp and you hiss through your teeth. You brace yourself for him to wrench the follicles out. 

He doesn’t. He clasps on tightly but does not yank, only keeping you close, keeping you under control. His breath hitches, chest rising and falling, voice scraping up his throat. He seizes, muscles tensing, toes curling, knees slightly bent. 

He cums, gushing over your fingers and knuckles, dripping under your palm and smearing up and down his length. He shakes and snarls, locking onto your wrist as he forces you still. You lay there and wait. He drags your hand from around him and puts it on his chest. He flattens it there as the scent of your excess lingers in the air. 

He’s placid. For now. 

Slowly, his breath evens out. You feel him go rigid and lets go of your hand. He sits up without a car and you fall away. You roll onto your back and watch him. He is mechanical as he rises and stalks to the door. It opens and shuts in his stead. 

You’re alone but not less afraid. You don’t dare move from where he left you. Something tells you that’s wrong. If you can avoid provoking him, you can languish in inaction. 

Time unfurls around you in a pulsing static. When he returns, the door snaps so loud you wince. You listen to him but do not look. Not until he approaches you. He hands you a wet cloth, folded. You take it as you sit up. 

“Thank you,” you say. 

You don’t expect a response or get one. You gingerly wipe your cunt with the cloth. You’re tender and thrumming. 

He wears a pair of black pants. He backs away and goes to the table. He takes something. He must have brought that with him. He takes the matte silver packet and returns to you. He raises it to show you. He rubs it between his hands. You listen to the friction. 

He tosses it at you. The packet is hot, almost intolerably so. You lift it from your lap by the corner. There’s no writing on it, just a sticker with an abstract outline of elbow past. 

You look up at him as he stares, then back at the packet. You grab the tap at the top and glance up again. His pupils pinpoint. You slowly tear the top and look inside. The artificial yellow of the macaroni inside wafts up the scent of cheese. It steams from within. How can that be? 

You peek at him again. He nods. You squeeze the packet and daintily take the noodle that sticks out between your teeth. There’s a faint flavour of cheese but overall, it’s bland. You chew without care. You’re starving. 

You can’t help yourself from tipping the packet and devouring it in only a few bites. Even as the heat makes your eyes water. When you finish, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. 

He comes forward and hands you a bottle of water. You take it with another thank you and empty it just as quickly. He looms over you. 

Your eyes flick up and meet his. Once more, he is blank. You nearly deflate. There’s nothing in the pit of his bold irises. 

He backs away and circles the bed. He goes to the armoire and pulls out a black shirt. He dresses, strapping on a leather harness and body armor, knife straps, gloves, boots. He clothes himself for battle, capping it off with a black cowl that covers his face entirely. 

His shoulders square as he stares into the armoire. He reaches inside and pulls something else out. It’s large and round, though the lower edge is slightly misshapen. He turns to face you with the shield and your mouth falls open. 

The silver is scratched and dented, worn from use, but you see what once was; chips of red and blue and the etched outline of a star at the center. Your eyes crawl up from the shield to his masked face. You recreate what’s beneath from the morsels in your mind. 

It simply can’t be him. You know it’s not. It might be his body but it’s not his mind. That is not Captain America. That is something else. 

[headspace-hotel]

Oh my god I'm sooooo mad right now

So. I have no business telling people not to collect wild plants/materials.

I do it all the time.

However.

The words "wildcrafted," and "foraged," even "sustainably harvested," are terrifying to see in an ad on Etsy or Instagram

There is a such thing as the honorable harvest where you ASK the plant if it is okay to take, with the intention of listening if the answer is NO. Robin Wall Kimmerer talked about this, She did not make it up, it is an ancient and basic guideline of treating the plants with respect.

Basically it is not wrong to use plants and other living things, even if this means taking their life. But you are not the main character. You have to reflect on your knowledge of the organism's life cycle and its role in the ecosystem, so you can know you are not damaging the ecosystem. You have to only take what you need and avoid depleting the population.

Mary Siisip Geniusz also talked about it in an enlightening way in her book Plants Have So Much to Give Us, All We Have To Do is Ask. She gave an example of a woman who was on an island and needed to use a medicinal herb to heal her injured leg or she would not survive the winter. In that situation she had to use up all of the plant that was on the island. This was permissible, even though it eliminated the local population, because she had to do it to save her life. But in return the woman had the responsibility to later return to the island and plant seeds of that plant.

And what makes me absolutely furious, is that there are a bunch of people online who have vaguely copied this philosophy of sustainability in a false and insulting way, saying "wildcrafted" or "foraged" materials to be all trendy and cool and in touch with nature, when it is actually just poaching.

If you are from a capitalistic culture the honorable harvest is very hard and unintuitive to learn to practice. I am not very good at it still. This is why it is suspicious if someone is confident that they can ethically and respectfully harvest wild materials with money involved.

So there's this lichen that is often called "reindeer moss." It looks like this:

It grows only a few millimeters a year.

This is "preserved" reindeer moss.

It is from Etsy, similar is also sold in many other online shops, many of which have the audacity to describe it as a "plant" for decorations and terrariums that needs no maintenance.

It is not maintenance-free, it is dead. It has been spray-painted a horrible shade of green. The people buying it clearly don't even know what it is. It is a popular crafting material for "fairy houses," whatever the hell those are. So is moss, also dead, spray-painted, and wild-harvested. Supposedly reindeer moss is harvested sustainably in Finland, where it is abundant, for the craft industry. However poaching of lichens and mosses is absolutely rampant.

It's even more upsetting because there's hardly any articles drawing attention to the problem. This one is from 1999. And the poaching is still going on.

There is a "moss" section on Etsy, and it is so upsetting

These mosses and lichens were collected from the wild. Most of the shops are in the Pacific Northwest or Appalachia, which are the major locations of moss and lichen poaching. There are some shops based in Appalachia selling "foraged" reindeer moss.

Reindeer moss may be abundant in Finland, but in Appalachia it should NOT be harvested to be sold on Etsy as craft supplies! Moss doesn't grow quickly. Big, healthy colonies like this took years to grow. Some of these shops have thousands of sales, all of bags and bags of moss and lichen, and thinking of how much moss and lichen that must be, I am filled with horror.

Clubmosses do not transplant well, and these ones have no roots. The buyers do not realize they have bought a dead plant because clubmoss stays green and pliable after it is dead.

This is especially awful because in Mary Siisip Geniusz's book she talked about clubmosses being poached so much for Christmas wreaths that they had almost disappeared from a lot of forests.

I don't even know if this is illegal if it's not a formally endangered species so I don't know if I can report them I'm just. really sad and angry

[zmtn]

[Full comic transcript under cut in addition to the alt text.]

So I've been working on a short comic, and here's a preview of the first five pages and the cover. They still need some cleanup and editing, and the rest of the pages of course, but I hope you enjoy them!

Images: First is a cover, in greens, oranges and purples. Title: The Orc and Her Bride, A Comic by Zoe Maxine. The illustration shows a surprised orc woman in a fancy cape and circlet holding an equally surprised dark skinned elf woman in a creamy bridal dress and crown.

Page 1. Full page drawing of the orc woman, looking far more ramshackle, covered in blood on a pile of bodies, and holding a giant axe. She pants with exhaustion.

Page 2. She looks over to see three people murmuring around a nearby building. Orc: "Don't tell me there's more." The three pointy eared people approach, looking frightened. Bearded man with his hands raised: "Mistress - Please, have mercy." The Orc is shocked, before she looks down, muttering, "Not looking forward to this part." Looking at the bearded fellow she says, "I will not harm the unarmed." Sighing, the bearded man says, "Thank you, Mistress." Avoiding his eyes, the orc says, "I don't deserve your thanks. I have killed many of your brethren."

Page 3. Two of the people exchange a look between them, faces neutral. Bearded one: "…Our soldiers, yes." The other, an older woman with short hair, looks at the orc. "Mistress, where do you come from?" Bearded one: "Why have you done this?" A shadow passes over the orc's face. "I am from Eskerfort." The next panel shows her saying "And… because I am from Eskerfort." over a flashback to her kneeling on the ground, defeated, in front of burning houses with soldiers barely visible in the background.

The two people in the present look away, almost ashamed, saying "Ah," with understanding.

Page 4. Looking down at the bodies below her, the orc says, "I am tired of bloodshed. I have avenged my kin. I will darken your doorways no more and leave you in peace." As she turns to leave, however, the beareded one rushes forward. "Wait! Worrier! Stop! Please!" The elfin woman looks up at her, asking, "Do you not know our laws?" Together the two try to point out something to the orc. "Look, please!" "Look!" Among the bodies is a fancily dressed one wearing a circlet. Off-panel, the people say, "That one you killed among the dead - he was our king." One of them reaches down to grab the circlet.

Page 5: Looking concerned, the orc woman says, "Are you asking me to be executed? For Regicide?" As the elfin woman is doing something, the bearded one puts his hands on his hips and looks up sternly. "No, Warrior, we are asking you to take responsibility."

The elfin woman holds the circlet up to the orc. It shines. "Our laws are clear," she says, "Whoever kills the king becomes the new king."

The orc stares ahead, eyes becoming pinpricks. "What?"

The next panel has her dressed in a fur lined cape with the circlet on her head, her hair being brushed. She has the exact same expression on her face. "what?"

The last panel has her sitting at the head of a long table with all the elfin people enjoying themselves around her. "what"

[lordprettyflackotara]

sandman || fred weasley

smut 18+, minors dni

You lacked the capability to relax.

Being in Ravenclaw the expectations of the world were on your shoulders, not including the dementors that circled Hogwarts walls that made your skin crawl.

You had been up late studying with Hermione in the Gryffindor common room, who had already been dragged to bed by Ginny.

Clutching your quill you continued to scribble on the parchment paper, your temple beginning to throb.

“How did a Raven manage to fly into the lions den this late at night?” Fred Weasley’s recognizable voice asked you. You poked your head up from your Herbology textbook, Fred’s curious eyes watching you.

“I was studying with Hermione, she ditched me early. So much for an all nighter,” You explained, marking your page. You resisted the urge to fold the corners, placing your quill in between the pages about gillweed.

“Granger going to bed early to avoid studying? How out of character. Did you give her some of our drowsy draught potion?” Fred teased. You giggled, watching the lean quidditch player approach you. A white wife beater revealed how much muscle he truly had, his usual robes keeping them concealed.

He strode over to you confidently, taking a seat on the floor beside you. The fireplace cackled behind you, the warmth of the fire drawing Fred closer. “It’s almost three am, do you plan on sleeping?” Fred asked curiously. You knew as well as he did that he was notorious for sleeping through anything. Including the dreadful hail storm that once terrorized Hogwarts.

“I’m basically an insomniac at this point, I can’t relax for more than five seconds without racking my brain to solve an equation,” You admitted sheepishly. You nervously tucked your hair behind your ear as Fred leaned back on his hands. “Here turn your back towards me, I have some legit magic that’ll help you relax,” Fred told you. You hesitantly raised your eyebrow. The ginger tended to be a mischievous prankster, even if you weren’t a victim of his tricks.

“And you’re not going to prank me?”

“Pfft, of course not,”

“Promise Weasley?”

“I promise,”

You shifted around, your back now turned to Fred as you pulled your skirt down. You weren’t sure what to expect, acutely aware of how close you both were. Fred brushed your hair away from your back and over your shoulder, before beginning to massage your shoulders. “I thought you said this was magic,” You say timidly, his large hands massaging your skin with ease. Fred chuckled at your response, brushing some of his shaggy hair out of his face.

Merlin he needed a haircut.

“Yes this is the magic of relaxation,”

Your tense body began to slowly relax under Fred’s touch, the gingers eyes scanning your neck.

“Looks like you’re good at something other than pranks Weasley,” You say teasingly. Fred rolled his eyes. “I’m good at quidditch too ya know,” He countered. Fred could feel himself growing flustered as he continued massaging you, his eyes wondering down your figure.

“Your neck looks pretty tense, I can fix that for you if you want. I’ll just need you to turn around,” Fred offered, trying to appear cool and confident. You felt your face flush pink as you shifted around, facing him. You had never gotten a chance to interact with Fred one on one, George always connected to his hip.

The moment seemed oddly intimate, even though you had never considered relationships or sex worth your time. Yet the ginger sat in front of you with his large hands and soft lips, practically begging for you to kiss him. You had never considered yourself to be attracted to Fred Weasley, yet your body was yearning for more of his touch.

Fred couldn’t contain himself anymore, closing the gap between your lips and his. He tasted faintly of butterbeer, your eyes fluttering shut as your lips danced against his. Your arms found themselves around his neck, Fred’s hands slithering down to your waist. In a swift motion he had pulled you onto his lap, straddling him in front of the fire. Your fingers found his hair, small groans being swallowed by him as your hips bucked against his.

You could feel a wet patch growing in your panties, the soaked fabric rubbing right against Fred’s growing boner. His large hands slipped up your skirt, grabbing your ass. Your hips grinded against his, lust boiling in your stomach. “I wanna taste you,” Fred muttered against your lips, his words a confession. You felt heat rush to your cheeks as you briefly pulled away, Fred’s lips almost chasing yours.

“W-what Weasley?”

Fred brought his thumb to your lower lip, dragging it downwards.

“I want your lips wrapped around my cock as I make you cum on my face,”

His filthy words sent a shiver of arousal down your spine, right down to your cunt.

You went to unzip your skirt before Fred grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“Keep it on,” He whispered, his order teetering on the line of a plea. You swallowed as the ginger laid down in front of you, eagerly awaiting you. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” You admitted, causing the ginger to chuckle. You stood up, pushing your panties down to your ankles before stepping out of them.

“I’d be a lucky man if I were to die between your thighs. C’mere,” Fred told you. You kneeled down over his head, your cunt inches away from his face.

“Fred what if I crush-”

Your concern was silenced by Fred’s hands pushing you down onto his face. You whimpered as his warm tongue licked a stripe up your cunt before assaulting your clit. You felt your thighs tighten around his head as his hands kept you in place, your filthy noises becoming louder by the minute.

“Fuck, right fucking there,” You moaned, grinding your hips onto his mouth. His lips began to suck at your clit, causing your thighs to shake. Your eyes centered on Fred’s boner, his cock throbbing inside of his pajama pants. You leaned forward, hungrily shoving them down. The lack of boxers caused you to giggle as his cock landed on his stomach.

“No underwear huh? Naughty boy,” You teased. A sharp smack landed on your bare ass, causing you to winch in pain for a brief moment before Fred’s tongue brought you back to ecstasy.

The ginger was longer than you expected him to be. You took his shaft into your hands, bringing it into your mouth. A soft groan was muffled by your folds, encouraging you to sink your head further down onto his cock. You took as much of him as you could in your mouth, using your hand to jerk the rest of his cock.

Fred admired your determination and for a brief moment he considered switching positions, the thought of you on your knees for him mouth watering. Yet, there was something about having your pretty lips wrapped around his cock as he was buried into your pussy that pleased him more.

You tasted divine, much sweeter than any other girl he had fooled around with. He licked up your cunt, pushing his tongue inside of your hole. You were involuntarily animalistic, your hips having a mind of their own as Fred laid there in heaven.

Fred’s hips were beginning to do the same, bucking upwards. His cock hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag as saliva trailed down your chin. Fred momentarily pulled away from your dripping cunt, smirking as your juices coated his lips and chin. You took him out of your mouth, gasping for air.

“You sound so pretty when you gag on my cock. Do it again and i’ll make you cum,” Fred ordered. You tried to grind down onto Fred’s face but his strong hands kept you in place. You could feel his warm breath a mere inch away from your cunt, taunting you.

The idea of cumming on Fred Weasley’s face had never been more appealing to you.

Desperately you brought his cock back to your lips, shoving it down your throat. You forced yourself to keep his shaft in place as you gagged around him. Saliva was trailing down your chin and neck, beginning to dampen your blouse.

“Such a good listener aren’t we? What a good girl,” Fred praised, kitten licking your folds. You pulled back, inhaling deep breaths of air.

“Now be a good girl and ride my face until you make yourself cum,”

You leaned back hesitantly, gripping his chest for support as he placed his mouth back onto your cunt. It was as if he somehow had memorized your body, his tongue licking every right place. Your moans were sinful enough to wake up the entire Gryffindor house and it was a miracle no one had bothered to go into the common room.

“Freddie, I, fuck-” You groaned, a familiar knot in your stomach forming. His lips had wrapped themselves around your clit, sucking harshly at the sensitive bud as your thighs trembled around his head. His large hands kept you on his face, refusing to let you move away.

You could feel your cunt clench around nothing as your thighs began to shake, squeezing Fred’s head unintentionally. Unholy moans that were mantras of his name echoed off of the common room walls as you came. Euphoria had washed over you, your nails digging into Fred’s chest.

Fred licked and sucked at your clit until you slowly lifted off of him, your knees almost buckling as you shifted away from his face. You weakly sat beside him, your after orgasm glow apparent to the ginger in front of you. “Look at you, you’re so cute,” Fred teased, using his thumb to wipe away the remaining spit on your chin.

In a swift motion you brought your lips back to his, Fred rising to his knees. You could taste your juices on his lips as you roughly meshed your lips against his. Fred couldn’t take it anymore, pulling away to meet your gaze. He shrugged his wife beater over his head, discarding it without a second thought.

“Bend over for me, yeah?”

You turned around, bending over in front of him without a second thought. You could feel him lubricate the tip of his cock by running it up and down your folds. The sensation of it hitting your abused clit made you shiver. “You have no idea how long i’ve thought about doing this,” Fred confessed. A cool breeze hit your bare skin as Fred lifted up your skirt, exposing your ass in full to him. As he pushed inside of you his fingers gripped your waist forcefully, as if he were afraid you’d disappear.

“So full- shit,” You groaned, your eyes screwing shut as he bottomed out.

“You’re practically fucking milking my cock, merlin, you slut,” Fred groaned. Your cunt only clenched around him tighter at the sound of his degrading words, causing him to smirk.

He began picking up the pace, fucking into you slowly. Your noises only grew louder as his hips began to snap into yours faster. Fred’s thrust were merciless, his body chasing an ecstasy only you could provide.

Strings of curses mixed in with your name left Fred’s lips as he watched his cock go in and out of you. He was so deep inside of you that you almost thought you were seeing stars, your body drunk off of the feeling of his cock.

“You feel so good Freddie, so fucking- good,” You slurred, your words of encouragement only making Fred pound into you faster. His cock was abusing your g spot, causing your legs to shake as your knees dug into the carpet below you. You could feel the rug digging into your skin, making it raw which each thrust.

“I wanna fuck you everyday, make you my personal Raven,” Fred grunted. He could feel you getting closer to your final high, his hand slithering down to your swollen clit. You began to squirm as his fingers circled around your sensitive bud, unable to handle the fast circles he was drawing. “Oh- i’m gonna cum, I can’t, fuck!” You cried, your walls spasming as Fred ripped you into a state of euphoria.

Fred fucked you through your orgasm mercilessly, ravishing in the sight of you in a state of pure bliss. He was so focused on you that by the time he tried to pull out his cock it was too late, his cum painting the inner walls of your cunt. Your body was spent, slumping over onto the floor as Fred pulled out of you.

Two orgasms was all it took to get you to finally go to sleep. Fred smirked to himself as he shoved his pajama pants back on, your small sleeping body curled up into a ball in front of the fire. He grabbed your things, shoving them into a bag he knew he’d deliver to you in the afternoon when you ran into each other in defense against the dark arts.

He eyed your panties on the floor, contemplating putting them back on you. Instead a more mischievous thought came to mind, which caused him to decide to shove them in his pocket instead. He picked up your body up bridal style, carrying you upstairs to the girls dorm. Fred knocked on the door, hoping whichever gryffindor girl opened it wouldn’t be a first year.

A sleepy Hermione Granger opened the door, rubbing her eyes as her vision settled. “Y/n is still here?” She asked. Her mind was already scrambling itself on what to do, the responsibility of being a prefect weighing on her shoulders. “Yeah she finally just went to sleep, I don’t think I can deliver her to Ravenclaw tower at this hour,” Fred shrugged. Hermione stared at Fred, shirtless and hair messy. He looked like a wreck, and you didn’t look much better.

Questions were on the tip of her tongue, ones she decided could wait until the morning. Hermione knew there were a few extra beds that were designated for first years, but in emergencies they would have to do. “The spare beds are to the right, be very quiet and don’t pull anything stupid,” Hermione said sternly. Fred carried you inside of the room, ignoring the dozens upon dozens of sleeping gryffindor girls. Hermione trailed close behind him, ensuring he wasn’t up to any funny business.

“How’d you get her to go to sleep anyways? Shes practically an insomniac,”

Fred shrugged, laying you down and bringing the red colored comforter up to your shoulders.

“I’m not sure myself, guess you can call me the sandman,”

[aceyalonso]

i - you are beautiful, melbourne

chapter summary : your mother meets her high school best friend and decides to join their family for dinner, you seem to be getting with her daughters. can't say the same with her son though.

alternative summary : oscar just ignores y/n cause she's a stranger

warnings : none (i think)

word count : 958

a/n : barely any oscar in this one (the song is just for the vibes tbh)

song : lost - frank ocean

The sun was setting over the Melbourne skyline, casting a warm glow across the city. y/n walked through the park, she and her brother walking before their parents. Suddenly, her mom called out, "Is that… Nicole?"

Looking up from her brother to see what had grasped her mother's attention, y/n realized a family of six walking closer to them. As they drew closer, y/n noticed the older woman's smile get larger. Y/n and her brother pause, with an almost identical face of confusion painting their faces. Y/n looks over to her father who is equally as confused, he shrugs as if telling them "I don't know them too"

She tilts her head to get a better glimpse of the family. Y/n feels a tug on her sleeve, kneeling to her brother's height before he whispers in her ear. "Y/n… is she mama's friend?" She smiles, "I think so Gabby, you want to say hi?" Gabriel lets out a deep breath, before nodding hesitantly.

Y/n and her brother walked up to the other family, closely followed by their father standing beside her mother. The families stopped in front of each other, and with a smile that spanned from ear to ear, Y/n's mother greeted the other woman first. "Nicole! I can't believe we bumped into you like this! It's been too long!"

As my mother hugs Nicole, I feel a pang of nervousness as she pulls me and my brother closer to her. As my gaze drifts towards her children, I observe their awkwardness and whispers. "They're just as confused as I am," I think to myself.

My mother puts her arm around me, drawing us closer. "These are my kids," she says with a smile, the introduction making us seem even more out of place. "This is y/n, and this little one right here is Gabriel." Gabriel meekly mumbles "Hello" and I smile, greeting her. "It's nice to meet you, Auntie Nicole."

Nicole pulls me into a tight hug "It's nice to meet you too, dear." She smiles, pulling away and putting her attention towards my mom. "This is my eldest and only boy, Oscar," she says looking at him. "I think he's around your age, y/n!" she adds. I only smile and nod in response, looking over to Oscar. His face remains stoic and unamused. "wow, not even a hi?" I say in under my breath

Shortly after Nicole introduces all her children Gabriel tugs on my sleeve, "I'm hungry..." he says loud enough for me, my mom, and Nicole to hear. "We were just about to grab dinner, do you guys want to tag along? Your little one seems to be hungry, y/m/n." Nicole says with a bright smile on her face

I see Mom look over to Dad as if asking for approval. Dad nods and Mom agrees enthusiastically, "Yeah sure, we'd love to Nicole!" Nicole only smiles interlocking her arms with my mother. My parents walked ahead with Nicole, deeply engaged in conversation. My brother and I silently followed, with Oscar Edie, May, and Hattie behind us. There was an aura of discomfort and awkwardness surrounding us. I focus on the pavement, trying to avoid eye contact with any of Auntie Nicole's children.

The two families were seated at a large table in a bustling restaurant, the noise of conversation, playful banter, and clinking silverware filling the air. Y/n sat beside her brother, her gaze occasionally shifting to Oscar who was seated between his mother and his sister Edie. The adults were engaged in their conversation, leaving the children to make small talk with each other.

Y/n glances over to May who is sitting to her left. Feeling the to need break the awkward silence, Y/n clears her throat and asks, "So... do you guys come here often?"

May looks up, surprised by the question. "No, not really," she replies "but mom really loves this place. She says the food is really good."

Y/n looks around the restaurant, taking in the decor and atmosphere "This is my first time here," she admits. May turns her head, facing Y/n, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "Oh really? What did you order then?" May suddenly asks. "Oh uh.." Y/n mumbles, grabbing the menu. "This one... the Farfalle with pesto sauce."

As if on queue, the food arrives. The waiter places Y/n's plate of pasta in front of her. She whispers a quiet "thank you" before placing a table napkin on her lap. Y/n takes a bite of her pasta, savoring the taste "Oh wow. This is really good," she says in between bites. May nods in agreement, taking a sip of iced tea. "Yeah, I think that's one of their specialties here!"

The two girls continued to chat, discussing everything and anything that came to mind. Despite the initial awkwardness, Y/n found herself enjoying May's company and the conversation felt comfortable and natural. It's safe to say that by the end of the night, she gained a new friend.

As May and Y/n continued chatting and enjoying their food, the parents' conversation in the background suddenly caught their attention. Y/n overhears her mom talking to Nicole about their plans for the summer.

Y/n's mother explains, " I want you and your entire family to spend the summer with us- In Italy. We have plenty of room for everyone, and I think it'll be a great chance for the kids to get along" Nicole nods eagerly, "Sounds great, doesn't it Tim?" Nicole asks her husband. He nods, taking a bite out of his steak.

"Count us in," Nicole says with a smile. Y/n's mom beams with joy, relieved and excited that Nicole has agreed. "That's fantastic! I'll take care of all the expenses. Think of it as a treat for me not reaching out in the past." Nicole nods, still smiling from ear to ear. "We can't wait."

yn.jpg 📍Melbourne, Australia

liked by may.piastri, sienna_cresenzo, and 1,437 others yn.jpg you are beautiful, melbourne. (i made a new friend?!) tagged may.piastri

may.piastri i'm so sad we didn't meet sooner :( ↳ yn.jpg me too may :( but dw we'll still see each other this summer!!! ↳ may.piastri can't wait to visit italy for the first time liked by yn.jpg

username81 cuties! 💗

sienna_cresenzo pls tell me you're going to italy this summer🥲 miss you so much girl liked by yn.jpg ↳ yn.jpg ofc i will!! i miss you too 🫶

series masterlist | next

[fanaticsnail]

Shameless 3/3

Masterlist here. Part 1, Part 2

Word Count: 5,500+

Synopsis: You have a type, one that has been forcefully revealed by your crewmen's incessant nagging. Ushered throughout the halls of the Polar Tang, you finally get to experience the raw, concentrated power of what succumbing to that type truly means.

Themes: Eustass Kid x afab!reader, p in v sex, eating, gushing, writhing, begging. Dom!kid x switch!reader, no gendered terms used, smut, nsfw, mdni, 18+ content warning, swearing, creampie, Platonic!Law x Crew!reader, "sunshine" used as a term of endearment, reader is a brat, Kid is obsessed.

Notes: And it's here! Third and final part to the series that was meant to be a one-shot because it was my first time writing for Eustass Kid. Thank you to @sordidmusings for being a saint and listening to me be very unhinged while I talk about this fic. Art link.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @feral-artistry @gingernut1314 @vespidphoenix @carrotsunshine @cinnbar-bun @i-am-vita @mfreedomstuff @sexc-snail

The grip of Eustass Kid’s right hand never left your hip. Ushering you throughout the halls of the Polar Tang to where he assumed your crew quarters were located. His face held an unreadable emotion you attempted to decipher with your mischievous gaze. 

His lips were knit into a thin line, tugging at the corners into a gruff grimace. His brows lowering their furrow against his forehead with his eyes wild with narrowed pupils. The smaller quiver in his top lip revealed his snarled emotion further to you, a soft rumble igniting within his chest. 

Cheeks tinted pink with ignited resolve and passion, he was glowing with growing vibrant frustration. Too proud to indicate he may be in need of assistance to find your room, you chose to bite your lip to stifle the rise of your smile further as you watched him fumble down the hallway. 

All that giddiness and prior longing for one another, all the passion and grinding against each other’s most sensitive areas, came to an abrupt halt by your captain by calling to you over the shipwide speakers. That lust for one another remained all through the commemorative meal, Kid perpetually holding his eyes on your body as he sunk his teeth into fresh meat. He tore his teeth into the flesh of the steak, all the while picturing what your body tasted like beneath your boiler's uniform. 

Noticing a small stagger in Kid’s steps, halting his strides as the corridor split into a narrow ‘T’ shape. Drawing your eyes up to the metal panel in front of you, you felt the grip of Kid’s arm tighten around your waist. 

You didn’t want to ask him if he needed help, refusing to utter a single word to the broody, aggressive man beside you. In fact, it was fun to watch him get angrier and angrier within his own frustration. You deduced: the angrier he got, the more likely he was going to channel that fury with reaching your joint ecstasy within the arms of one another. 

“You’re really gonna stand there in silence?” he growled in a low rumble, “Not gonna give me any guidance in finding your damn crew cot to fuck you in?” You attempted to stifle your rising smile by clamping your teeth down on your lower lip. 

“Nope,” you popped your lips on the ‘p,’ noticing this seemed to aggravate him further. In one swift movement: he lifted you up with his flesh hand, caging you beneath the metallic forearm of his artificial limb across your chest. He held your body firmly against the steel of the cool wall, bringing his agitated expression closer to your amused grin. 

“Just wanna see me get all frustrated, huh?” he spat, his aggressive agitation showcased within the vibrant hues of his auburn eyes, “Wanna see how far you can bend me before I snap?” 

All you could do was shudder out a whimper of lustful breath beneath the cool metal arm, a smirk drawing up to your lips as you avoided his intense stare by looking down at his exposed pectorals.

In response, he pushed his metal forearm firmer against your chest, the magnetic object caging your shoulders against the wall alongside the top of your breastbone. The discomfort you felt beneath his artificial limb elevated your anticipation and excitement for him more. 

“Answer me,” he growled, shoving you further against the wall, “You had so many words earlier. Where are they now, huh?” You drew your eyes up to his, half-lidded and full of adoration for the frustrated tinkerer-captain. As your softened eyes met with his, he was flabbergasted at your unwithheld adoration for him. 

“You don’t seem like the type to require help,” you whispered, drawing up your hand do brush your fingers against his jaw, “So I won’t help you...” you pressed your chest against his metal arm to test its strength and hissed out a further declaration, “...Unless you ask me, very nicely, to offer you my assistance.”

Kid bore his eyes into yours, his brow furrowing deeper on his forehead as you looked up through half-hooded lashes. Floating your eyes between his, you goaded him with your playful expression: daring him to ask you for aid. After several moments of careful contemplation, he finally spat out his venomous words. 

“Fine,” his eyes darkened, a furious twinkle engaged within his blown pupils. Where you expected him to cave, ask you begrudgingly which direction to be led in, he shocked you by his flesh hand reaching up to your chest, and prying open your boiler suit with a skillful tear in the front of the fabric, “You leave me with no choice but to fuck you in the hallway.” 

You squealed as he skillfully removed your sleeves from your arms with his right hand, forcing his hips to staple yours against the reflective surface behind you. His broad hand drew itself up to cup your left hip, grinding his half-hard cock against your needy core. You sighed blissfully as he began to rut against your body, your eyes fluttering shut against the feeling. 

He tore through the fabric of your top binding, exposing your chest and puckered nipples publicly in a single swipe. You mewled as he pinched, licked and sucked at your exposed chest; your body wriggling and grinding against his core. 

“You truly have no shame, do you?” He growled, his lips finding your jaw as he pressed himself harder against you. You relished in the feeling of his warm lips caressing your skin in open kisses, his saliva dampening your pores with each messy parting of his lips upon you. 

“I could say the same about you,” you whispered through your unrestrained moan in response, opening your eyes to gaze into his own once more. When his eyes met yours, his lust was demonstrated in the soft flutter of his lashes, his pupils dilated into large circles and his painted lips parted in a shocked oval. 

You rocked your hips against his, the tight peak in his patterned pants raking over your rapidly dampening heat. He tore away more of your uniform, revealing more glimpses of your exposed flesh to his needy hands and greedy eyes. As you began to move your lips to expel your desires, a voice called above your expressions of wanton need. 

“Well, I'm ashamed of both of you,” your Captain’s bored and lazy tone spat with a soft grimace, “Couldn't even wait to get into crew quarters, Tinkerers?”

A joint shriek of shock expelled itself from your throats as your eyes snapped over to the darkened silhouette of Trafalgar Law. 

Your captain excused himself from the meal between the main course and dessert, claiming the excuse he needed to retrieve something from his office. What he was truly doing was checking in to see if you were alright with the attention you were receiving from Eustass Kid. He knew you were tough, and that you had a type, but he wanted to ensure the safety of his tinkerer. 

“Captain-!” you began, your voice drowning beneath the surprised grunt of Kid’s exclaim, “-Traffy!” Kid’s body hovered over yours, shielding the exposure of your chest from the eyes of your Captain. You almost pouted out a softened hum of awe at the larger man's valiance, but your attention remained captivated by Law's disapproving expression. 

As you both began to utter your verbalised defenses, you witnessed Captain Law’s smirk grow all the broader: feral and cryptid. Your eyes widened, watching as he raised his hand upwards, his fingers splayed out in hyper focussed concentration. 

“Unfortunately for the both of you, I refuse to allow such lewd acts performed in my hallways - no matter who is performing them,” he uttered in a low growl, prompting a blush to rise against your cheeks. 

Before a further explaination could be uttered in your defense, Law hastily spoke over your rising voice with two key words of his own. 

“Room,” he smirked, eyes darkening as you and Kid both felt at the mercy of your Captain demonstrating his raw power with his devil-fruit ability, “Shambles.”

Your surroundings went dark around you, your body feeling helpless within the trap of Law's displacement. Although you had experienced this method of transportation prior, the disassociation and frazzle of the world around, fading in and out, remained a difficult concept to comprehend and adjust to. 

Switching positions with two flecks of dust within your crew quarters by the will of your Captain, had your body falling unceremoniously atop Kid’s on the metal floor beneath you with a firm thud. A grunt at the contact alongside a huffed breath from your companion prompted a laugh to began simmering within your chest. 

“Well, well, well,” you managed to giggle out through your teetered laughter, “Looks like you didn't have to ask me nicely, after all.”

Kid huffed out a disapproving gruff growl, shifting your body away to take in the full view of your face above him. Although the crew quarters were lit by the hum of electrical lamplight, he strained to make out the outlines of your face in this switched position. 

Before he could adjust to exactly what was happening within the room, he was surprised at the shift of weight above him sliding down his body. As he moved his dizzying head to focus on your actions, he was surprised to hear a jingle of metal and the loosening of his pants. 

He snapped his eyes to witness the swirl of your tongue claiming the chorded strands of his pants within your mouth, skillfully tugging at the belt with your teeth to expose his briefs beneath. He sucked in his shock, hastily propping himself up on his elbows to get a more in depth look at your features. 

“F-Fuck,” he groaned, eyes unable to break his eyes away from watching you take apart his pants, “Y-You’re actually doing it with your teeth.” He whispered, reaching his right hand down to rake his fingers through your hair. You smiled, tugging one final harsh bite at his zippered fly to expel his clothed member beneath the parted split of his pants. 

“I would never mislead you,” you reassured him with a huffed chuckle, watching the small twitch of his rapidly expanding cock. The subtle damp patch of precum against the soft material of his briefs, “I despise those who go back on their word.”

With another small string of curses, Kid released your hair within his palm and lulled his head back on his shoulders as you circled your grip around his clothed shaft. Tugging it firmly beneath the material, his heavy balls began to fall beneath the elastic hem of his leg holes. 

You shifted your hands along his veiny cock. The outline of his perfect, mushroomed tip dipped in a divet within the strain against the material of the cotton fabric. His leg began to twitch as you straddled his thigh and teased the waistband of his briefs with the brush of your unoccupied fingertips. 

Reaching into his pants, you claimed his cock within your palm and attempted to circle your digits around it: the large girth having your fingertips barely brush together in their circumference. Flicking your thumb over the tip had a moan stifled within Kid’s lips. Huffing at the friction, he drew his head up to glance at you through half-hooded lashes. 

Brows knit in focus, your jaw hung ever slightly slack as you focussed on pistoning Kid’s impressive cock within your grip. The look of awe on your features as you exposed his member by flipping his waistband down had Kid’s ego swelling with pride. He smiled as you but back a moan of your own, taking in the full view of his incredibly large cock. 

“It's not going to fit,” you gasped, eyes glazed in a hypotonic, lustful trance. Kid smirked at your comment, panting at the attention you were paying to his sensitive knob and frenulum with your thumb. 

In one swell movement, he hastily flipped your positions and caged you beneath him. Your chest was fully exposed, your uniform hanging limply on your hips as his right hand dove beneath the waist of your undergarments. 

“It'll fit,” he moaned, his lips finding your clavicle bone, containing a perfect ovular circle he bit into earlier, and pressed his lips roughly against it, “Just gotta warm ya’ up first.”

He sought out your heat with his fingers, feeling the arousal he'd already caused earlier by his lips, teeth and grinding hips. His two middle fingers slotted between your walls, feeling the coat of slick over his knuckles as he spread your essence over your needy hole. 

Before he sunk his fingers into your core, he retreated back upwards to your awaiting, quivering clit. As his warm fingers began tracing delicate circles against your aching bud, he claimed your lips beneath his own. 

Your hands shot to his hair, grasping the red strands within your fingertips. Angling your chin up, you needily licked Kid's lips while whining at his ministrations. Everything was too little and too much all at once, your craving for him outweighing the need for him to make you ready to take his impressive size. 

Moans were caught within his painted lips, his own empathetic moans at your joy spread from his mouth into yours. As he swirled his digits expertly around your clit, he forced his tongue within your mouth to brush against yours. Sliding the muscle throughout your mouth, you arched your back as he continued using his hands and lips to bring you pleasure. 

Seeking out his cock, your hand grasped at every surface of his large muscles and skin on your journey downwards. Just before you managed to wrap your hand around the swollen head of his cock again, Eustass Kid’s metal hand shot down and claimed your wrist within his iron grip and pinned both hands above your head. 

Breaking his lips from yours, his fiendish smile grew wide. His teeth playfully bit your bottom lip as a wordless reprimand for your actions. You whined, your hands attempting to wriggle free from his iron grip to seek out his cock once more. 

“Not gonna let you touch me ‘til I make you cum at least once,” he laughed at you, slowly rolling circles around your needy bud. You arched your back and mewled for him as he raked his fingers down to your hole, then back up to your clit in skillful motions. 

“I let you take the lead while your Captain’s stupid devil fruit power made me dizzy,” he slunk down your torso, ripping your legs out of your pants with one swift swipe with his metal hand, “But now that my head's all clear, I'm gonna make you cum so fucking hard, Sunshine.”

You were now completely exposed to him, your naked body lying vulnerable beneath his almost fully-clothed body. Only his cock was exposed to you; the rest of his larger form remained shrouded by his cloak, buckled holsters and pants. 

“P-please,” you whined for him, panting as he pinned your writhing hips to the floor beneath his forearm. He chuckled, hooking your knees over his shoulders and bringing your glistening core up to his face after releasing your hands from his metal arm.  

“Quit ya’ squirming,” he growled, leaning his face down against your needy heat, “I know how you feel about goin’ back on your word.” He tested your reactions with a small flick of his tongue against your clit, laughing when you arch your back in reaction, “Wouldn't want you to despise me, now, do I?”

“Captain,” you gasped, feeling his breath cooling against your sticky walls as he hovered his lips over your oozing essence. He chuckled further, forcing your legs apart as he took in the sight of your arousal. His jaw shuddered at the sight, eyelashes fluttering as his smile rose up on his face. 

“I would never mislead you,” he mocked your earlier sentiment, prompting you to scowl at his taunting expression. Just as soon as your scowl appeared, it fled just as hastily from your face as he dove head-first into your heat. 

Kid's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he sampled your sweet essence, rolling his tongue over your aching clit in slow, deliberate circles. You bit your lip to stifle your keening mewls, prompting Kid to groan into your glistening sex. 

“So cute,” he commented, bobbing his head as he swiped his tongue up and down, spreading your juices around your entrance and clit, “So fuckin’ cute.” 

Nodding against your heat, he became drunk with lust as you attempted to grind further against his face. He used his nose to add pressure to your clit as he dipped his tongue into your neglected entrance. Swirling his tongue, he lapped at your juices straight from the source, with grunts of praise growling from his messy lips coated in your sweet nectar. 

The coil in your stomach bound itself tight within the pit of your abdomen. You huffed into your wrist, clamping your eyes tightly shut as you had no choice but to take the tongue lashing Kid was forcing into your body. 

Your thighs began to shake as you strained against his extremely large hands, once again becoming aware of how big he was. At the mercy of the man above you, you began gushing into his mouth as the first wave of your erupting orgasm coursed through you.

“O-Oh fuck yes, that's it,” Kid's muffled voice praised you between your legs, “Cum on my face. C’mon, wanna feel it.”

“F-Fuck, Captain,” you cried out for him, tears beginning to well from the intensity in which you rode through the waves of your encumbering high. 

Attempting to writhe and wriggle out of his grip, he held you firmly in place and bullied your cunt with his face further. He dove in deeper, torturing your core with his tongue and lips as he continued to messily lap at your juices. 

“Nuh uh,” he chastised you, prompting you to sob at the overstimulation, “You're gonna take it. Go on, Sunshine. Cum for me again,” he chuckled into your tingling entrance when you screamed at the feeling of his tongue needily and aggressively lapping at you, “I know you can.”

Panic wrote itself on your face, you're cheeks running hot as your blood turned cold. Feeling the firm press of his hands against your hips, you truly felt helpless beneath the hulking figure of Eustass Kid.  He was going to hold you down and make you cum again, and you were going to have to take it. 

“This is whatcha get for being a brat earlier,” Kid leant his face away as he messily spat against your hole. Diving down immediately after, he lapped at your oversensitive heat and held your body completely at his mercy, “This is what me snapping looks like, Sunshine. Fucking take it.”

You whimpered, reaching your hands down and grabbing fistfuls of his hair within your hands. Attempting to tug his face away from you, he doubled down his efforts and elevated your hips with his strong and firm grip. He thrust your body backwards and forwards, grinding your sensitive cunt against his face as you felt him chase another of your intense highs. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh F-fuck,” you screamed, gushing your juices over his chin as another gushing orgasm snuck up on you. This was not as intense as the first one prior, but it stole the breath from your lungs and took the wind out of your sails. 

“There ya’ go,” he chuckled, grinding your hips against his face, “Fuck yes, cum in my face again.” 

He slowed down the intensity of his grinding, remaining in tempo of the rhythmic twitches of your orgasm beckoning him in with hypnotic pulses. Floating back down from your high, you collapsed onto the cool ground beneath you. 

You felt him come away from your body, fully expecting the larger man to immediately pummel his large cock into you and wincing in anticipation. Taking a moment to catch your breath, you looked down to notice Kid had raisen to his knees and removed his weighty cloak and straps from his torso. 

He smirked down at you, watching as you took in his body with your fucked-out, glazed-over expression. He tugged at the waistband of his underwear, moving the rest of his clothes down over his hips to free his balls and his legs. 

“Waitin’ ‘til you catch your breath,” Kid whispered affectionately while casting his boots, socks and pants aside, “I'm cruel, but I'm not that cruel.” 

In truth, Kid felt the approach of a premature untouched orgasm swelling in his abdomen the moment your cunt pressed against his face. It had been so long since he had taken a lover, especially one as enthusiastic as you were at the very notion of a sliver of his attention. 

You teased him earlier in the day with your unbridled lust, intrigued him with your devotion to your tinkering assignment, and had him completely smitten with your complete and utter shamelessness.

He was so completely riled up, he refused to be embarrassed by how quickly he was going to cum from the moment your cunt touched his twitching, engorged cock. He wanted to take his time, enjoy your company for as long as you were willing to share it with him. 

As your heartbeat slowed to a more forgiving pace, you beckoned him with your coaxing hands and pleading eyes. Smiling down at you, he hovered over your face and pressed needy and passionate kisses against your jaw with his lips and tongue. 

His red, fat tongue slithered against your chin, prompting you to turn your head and claim the organ into your parted lips. As soon as your mouth brushed with his, you felt the tip of his cock tap against your over prepared and glistening hole. You moaned against his lips as his tip began to split you apart, your walls moving in a wide stretch to accommodate his impressive girth. 

“I-It’s too big,” you winced against his lips, “Too big!” You cried out as he soothed you by pressing gentle kisses against your cheeks, lips, temple, chin and jaw. 

“Y-You can t-take it,” he huffed, wincing at how tight your cunt was choking him, strangling him with your smaller core, “Just-... hah, fuck-... Just relax around it. You can do that for me, can't you? Relax and let me i-in.” His shiny tip pushed deeper into your cunt, his shaft twitching as he felt your fluttering walls adjust to accommodate him. 

You winced your brows up, breathing deeply as he caged your smaller body beneath him. Huffing out several strangled breaths, he fully slotted his shaft into you. Tufts of his red pubic hair ground coarsely against your swollen clit, a cry spilling from your lips the welcome he received as his cock encased itself within your warm, puffy sheath. 

“Fuck, you're so-... ngmmh-... so fucking tight,” he bit your shoulder as he buried his head within the crook of your neck. At every quiver your glistening core fluttered around him, he felt his orgasm rapidly approaching. 

“You're so fucking big,” you praised him with a hushed, needy whisper; mewling as he began to make shallow movements, pistoning his cock while remaining deep within your cunt. 

You felt yourself relax around him, the rocking of his hips enabled you to adjust quickly to his length and girth. You circled your arms around his shoulders, cradling his head against your shoulder as you felt him begin to pant. A flash of lightning hit your body as your lust hit you with its stricken intensity. 

“C'mon, big boy,” you cooed down at him with new motivation, “I know you can fuck me harder than that.” Kid snapped his head up, his eyes feral as he gawked at you. 

“You want me to fuck you harder?” Kid asked, a pink flush tinting his face as deep a scarlet as his vibrant hair. You laughed, your abdomen constricting his cock within you as you did. 

“Did I stutter?” You teased him, clawing at his shoulders before capturing his cheeks within the heels of your palms, “Harder.” Eustass Kid, who was not accustomed to be on the receiving end of orders, immediately began slamming his hips against yours in rough claps. You shrieked in joy, gyrating to match his quickening pace. 

The wet slaps of your cunt taking Kid's cock reverberated with your mutual moans throughout the crew quarters. You huffed out strangled pants as you ground your hips upwards to meet with his heavy-handed thrusts. His biceps twitched with every hard thrust against you, leaning up on his flesh and metal arms to get a glimpse of his cock disappearing within your gummy walls.

Cocking your head to the side, you noticed his brows were knit in focus, his mind still holding his body back from being too rough with you. You craved him letting go, the craving prompting you to hook your legs over his hips and lock your ankles together behind his lower back.  

“Harder,” you coax him, “Go harder, Captain. I can't take it.” As a gesture, you tug at his shoulders and cradle his body against you. He fell against you, his arms caging you once again beneath him. 

“I'm gonna break your fucking hips if I fuck you any harder,” he huffed against your cheek. He continued his rough pace, the lewd slap of his balls on your puckered ass causing you to cry out for him. 

“I serve on a ship full of doctors,” you prompt him, pressing open kisses against his collar and rocking your hips to his rhythm, “I can take it. C'mon, Kid. Fuck me like you want to.”

Kid halted his movements, his eyes immediately snapping up to meet with your own. He was immediately challenged by your utter audaciousness, searching your eyes for any hesitation for him to simply take what he wanted from your body. 

“Like I want to?” His growl sent a shudder from youd chest down to your cunt, stil containing his entire length, “You want me to show you how I want to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you whispered, biting and nipping at his cheek, jaw and neck as a further coaxing for him to propel himself harder, firmer and deeper against you. 

He broke your arms away from his shoulders, his metal and flesh hands immediately moving to the backs of your thighs and pressing them firmly up into your stomach. You mewled in shock, feeling the new depth his cock reached at this angle hitting and brushing against more of your core you never thought possible. 

“You want me to fuck you with my full strength? Feel me so fucking deep in your stomach it borders on painful?” He growled, pressing his stomach against your thighs as he allowed his full weight to sink down into you, “You want your bones to fall on the brink of shattering as I fuck into you, using you for my own personal pleasure?” 

“Yes,” you confirmed a little louder than before, following his movement with the rapid bounce of your hips in rhythm with his rough thrusts. You bit back a cry as he picked up his pace, your lower abdomen feeling the pinch of his tip kissing your cervix. 

He hastily drew down his hands, prompting you to hook your arms behind your knees to keep you fully exposed to his rough thrusts. As you held your legs back, he forced his right hand onto the pit of your stomach, pushing on the tip of his angular cock brushing against the spongy curvature of your G-spot. 

“Feel that? That's-... fuck, hhah-... how fucking deep I am,” he panted, his thrusts becoming more erratic. You cried out muted sobs in desperation for him, feeling the approach of your third orgasm rapidly stampeding towards you. 

“Fuck you like I want to, Sunshine?” He growled, repeating your taunt back to you. His speed continuing to pick up as heavy thrusts as he pressed your thighs further into your chest, “Fuck you rough and deep enough to split you apart with my cock? Like I fucking want to?”

“Yes!” you cried out in confirmation, feeling the tight call of your orgasm begin to shake at your toes to your thighs, warmth spreading in your chest with the ignition of passionate convulsions. He groaned for you, panting as he felt the first twitches of his own approach pulsate through the base of his shaft, his balls sucked into the pit of his stomach and knob twitching deep within you. 

“Oh, fuck!” he barked, his eyes rolling back into his skull as he continued to pummel, bully, and bruise your cunt with his impressive, firm cock. He felt the first wave of your pussy beckoning him with your orgasm, his mind no longer his own as he gave into his primal urge to continue claiming you. 

“Fuck, Captain. I'm g-gonna-... f-fuck-... I'm gonna cum-,” you screamed, caged beneath his body as your walls began wringing circular pulses over his cock. Kid began to panic, overcome with the feeling of your pussy milking his shaft. 

“I c-can’t pull out, I can't pull out!” He begged and pleaded as his knob began to leak with the first spurts of unrestrained precum, “Too fucking good!”

“Cum in me, I need you!” you screamed in your haze, drunk on the feeling of this larger man splitting you open with his desperation. You bounced your cunt against him, matching the pace he set while riding through your all encumbering orgasm. 

“F-Fuck!” he roared, ribbons of white release splashing against your cervix and trickling down your thighs with your own juices gushing against him. Your beckoning thumps continued wringing Kid's cock with each pulse in unified bliss. 

Growls of strangled moans fled from Kid's lips as he claimed your mouth within his, deepening the angle he was slamming his hips down against your core and slowing his erratic pace. 

He released your thighs from his grip, choosing to thread his arms around your shoulders and elevate you to a sitting position, his cock still deeply sheathed within you. Rocking back onto his heels and calves, he continued pressing open and lustful kisses against your lips as the last few, teetered, aftershocks of his orgasm spent itself within you. 

Holding the back of your neck, he continued cradling you against himself. His kisses turned soft, sweet and almost loving, his lip paint now marking nearly all of your body with the scarlet hue. The subtle tang of your juices remained on his tongue as you welcomed more of him against your lips. 

As you motioned to break away from his lips to catch your breath, he needily held your neck firmly in place, continuing to pant through his kisses planted against your lips. He rotated his head, his lips entangling themselves sloppily against yours as you both finally fell back down to the harsh reality around you. 

“More,” he whimpered against you, still under the prior hypnotic spell your words and actions cast on him, “Need more.”

Smiling, you pressed several peppered kisses against his lips and face. He hummed through his nose, whining at how affectionate you were remaining to be after taking his aggravated and almost assaulting pace with his cock still inside you. You tested his still firm cock, rocking yourself on his lap which caused a choked whimper to flee from his throat. 

“How long are you staying with us, Captain?” you managed to ask him as soon as you broke away from his desperate lips. He pressed his forehead against yours, his hands moving down to circle around your shoulders and waist. 

“Couple more days,” he confessed in a whisper, his eyes glancing down at where your bodies remained still as one, “Then we leave to go on our separate ways again.” 

You both clamped your eyes shut, feeling your bodies unified together as his cock began to soften within your walls. You raised your hands to cradle his cheeks, pressing a few sweet kisses against his lips as he hung his head back within your arms. 

“And after a few days?” you whispered your question, pressing your forehead against his once more with your eyes remaining shut to conceal your emotions from him, “Then what?” 

You felt Kid's right thumb begin tracing circles against your hip, his arms sliding down to claim both sides of your body beneath his broad hands. 

“Then, Sunshine," he scoffed, playfully licking your chin with the sharpened tip of his tongue, "Every time I meet with your captain and your crew…” he teased you, tilting your face with a subtle jab of his chin to force your eyes to open, as he uttered his final confession to you. 

“... we're gonna make it everyone's problem.”

As soon as you met with his rust-colored eyes, you were once again consumed with lust for him. His enchanting smile, his scarred cheeks, his smudged face paint, his wicked grin: all bewitched you to the point where you would agree to everything he could ever pose to you.

"I'm looking forward to being shameless and embarrassing with my open adoration and lust for you, Captain," you confessed in a whispered breath. He laughed at you smoothing over your hair with his hand, smiling as he drew his face all the closer to yours.

"I'm looking forward to being the object of your shameless fucking lust, Sunshine," he uttered before he claimed your lips beneath his once more in a lengthy, sultry kiss, "Let's get cleaned up, go a couple more times," you squeaked in joy at the notion, prompting a huff of laughter to expel from Kid, "Then I'll carry you up there to enjoy dessert, just like I promised."

[lokorum]

⋆˚࿔⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡ ⋆｡little navigation post!! ฅᨐฅ✧｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡ ⋆

°⋆.ೃ࿔*''knee-deep in the water" comic tags! ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

comic pages and aaaall of the art + sketches!

salamath - "mother said im allowed to have this 2 knives"

shas-hara - big bird with a reputation of hunting people for sport

narine - keeps dodging bullets but would prefer to catch them with a head a couple of times

kuyan - avoided responsibilities by pretending to be dead (surprise, it works)  

ayasha - can successfully sell winter jacket in +40C

sino - emo boi who couldnt be fixed

ketla - "bi" in "bipolar"

tiisha - "please lord im only 7" (1/2 main character!)

yata - winks at you but only when you cant notice (2/2 main character!)

°⋆.ೃ࿔*:little faq + about the blog + fanart tags! °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:

₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ so, what im doing here?

im working on the ࣪ ִֶָ☾. knee-deep in the water˚ ೀ⋆｡˚ comic!!

oc characters you can find in this blog are mostly all from there, and if not - they are tagged by related fandom! 

₍ ᐢ. ̫ .ᐢ ₎ how's the drawing process for comic going?

by now i finished half of chapter one, and finished the intro! as soon as it is done i'll start to post pages here and on the dedicated site once-twice a week! script is already almost finished too!

₍ ᐢ. ̫ .⑅ᐢ ₎ do i still make fanart?

yes of course, just less often than before! 

i was most active in bg3, tes, elden ring, dishonored and tma fandoms, but now im head and shoulders deep in datv!! 

₍ᐢ  ›  ̫ ‹ ᐢ₎ do i take commissions?

​almost throughout the whole year! so feel free to send an email on omnomnomnya@gmail.com - there's 100% chance i'll be free and able to work with you! 

​₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ where can you see commission information? 

on my carrrd!

૮₍'˶· . • ⑅ ₎ა am i open to work on an art trade?

yes!!

♡꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱ can i do drawings from ask-prompts?

very rarely, when im in the mood!

₍ᐢ. ༝ .ᐢ₎ do i make speedpaints?

even more rarely than prompts, but you can find some in the tags!

₍ᵔ.˛.ᵔ₎ what software do i use? which brushes?

photoshop 2020 + kyle t. webster dry media brushes!

₍ᐢ._.ᐢ₎♡༘ do i sell prints?

nope! im that boring zero-waste person + i live in a country where most related us/european sites are blocked or simply not working without paypal!

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･a little about the artist thingy! °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

if you'd want to support my work - i have boosty (and soon hopefully gonna have a patreon!)  where i post speedpaints, early access to pages, sketches and all that!

thank you so much for reading and please dont hesitate to ask stuff if you'll have any questions! ♡

[astraystayyh]

Conversations with Hyunjin

or what i imagine dating Hyunjin would be like (kind of went overboard because i love this man).

warnings: reader feels insecure when hyunjin looks at them for too long. a little suggestive in the end. hyunjin is dramatic but we love him 🫶

if you enjoy please reblog or leave a comment,, means the world to me <3

Minho's version.

"Look a bit to the left... Perfect", Hyunjin gently grips your jaw, his paint-stained fingers slightly moving your head to the side. You were in Hyunjin's little art studio, and he was halfway through sketching a portrait of you.

He didn't explain why he suddenly wanted to draw one, but his multiple kisses on your face the night before were enough to convince you.

But now that you were sitting on this chair and he's been looking at you for the past half an hour, you can't help but feel self-conscious. He was intently staring at you- you wondered if he started to notice all the imperfections on your face.

Hyunjin's brush strokes falter when he realizes that you are fidgeting with your fingers. He tries to hold your gaze, but you avoid it each time, a tight smile drawn on your lips. You scratch your throat, once, twice, and he steps away from the canvas.

"Angel," he smiles when he's right before you. He doesn't have to look down to grab your hands- they find each other instinctively.  "What's wrong?".

"Nothing," you attempt to smile, but your voice is strangled, and Hyunjin feels his heart drop in his chest.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?". His voice is quiet, a stark contrast to his excited demeanor when he just started painting you.

"No! No, baby. Never", you reassure, squeezing his hand tightly. "It's just... I feel like the more you stare at me, the more you'll notice my imperfections".

"What imperfections?" he questions seriously, his head tilted to the side as if the thought of you having a flaw was inconceivable.

"I don't know... I just don't like it when people stare at me a lot, I guess".

"My love, you are the most beautiful person I've ever seen," Hyunjin leans down, leveling his eyes with yours. He needed you to know how serious he was.

"You are only saying this because you love me," you smile, and he shakes his head no vehemently. "The first time I saw you, I squeezed Jisung's arm so bad I almost broke it."

You've lost count of how many times you've heard this story. Each time you hang out with the boys, Han has to remind Hyunjin that he was starstruck when he saw you. But it still made you feel warm inside- like a blanket tightly wrapped around you.

"You looked so beautiful, and you also had this alluring aura surrounding you. I wanted to talk to you as soon as I laid my eyes on you", he pecks your nose, and you scrunch it up in response.

"And I'm glad I did because not only you're the prettiest human alive," he leans away, his hands gesturing up and down in reverence, "but your soul is the most beautiful thing about you."

"Now," he gently flicks your forehead, and you laugh, "no more talk about imperfections."

"Yes, sir!" you giggle, and he smiles softly at you. "You know what? Let's leave the portrait for another day. Come sit with me while I draw?"

"You know I can't say no to that."

And so for the next hour, Hyunjin paints your favorite flowers with you curled up in his lap. You don't talk much as he draws, but his minty breath tickles your neck from time to time and you haven't felt this content in a while. 

°°°°°°°°°°

"Babyyy, what's wrong?" you lean into Hyunjin's side, who was seemingly ignoring you. You've just returned from running some errands to find Hyunjin sulking on the bed.

"Nothing," he huffs, turning his head away from you.

"Then why aren't you kissing me?" you whine, and he steals a glance at you.

"Because you didn't kiss me first."

"What are you talking about?" you chuckle, making him sulk even more.

"In the morning, you didn't kiss me," he grumbles, and you internally melt at his antics. Sometimes Hyunjin made you feel as if he needed your kisses to breathe.

"I did, you were asleep, but I kissed your cheek."

"Well, I didn't feel it."

"Yeah, because you were asleep, dummy," you giggle, and he finally looks at you, his tongue poking slightly against his cheek. He knows he's been ridiculous but it was too late to back out now.

"Well, then you should've woken me up!"

"I will next time", you smile at him, and he brightens up, "You promise?"

"Pinky promise". You lace your pinky with his, and you both kiss your thumbs, stamping them together.

"Now come here" You open your arms wide, and he sinks into them. His mouth falls perfectly on top of your collarbone, and he grazes it gently with his teeth, making goosebumps erupt on your skin.

"Baby?", he calls out a while later.

"Mhm?"

"On second thought, don't wake me up. I probably need the sleep", he says sheepishly, and you giggle, "I know."

°°°°°°°°°°

"Hey, love," Hyunjin leans in to kiss your forehead, snapping you out of your haze.

"Hey," you turn your eyes back to the TV, hugging your knees tighter to your chest. You weren't really watching the movie you put on; you just needed something to take your mind off the weight on your chest.

"Bad day?" he asks, his tone soft, and you nod silently.

Hyunjin kisses your head again, and for a second, the world around you stills and you feel okay. But his lips quickly leave you, and you're left aching for his hold.

"Wait here," he tells you, and you hum in reply; you couldn't move even if you wanted to.

Ten minutes later, Hyunjin comes back to the living room. He pulls you up and leads you to the bathroom. There, you find some candles lit up and rose petals thrown on the ground.

"Let me take care of you," he says as he starts to undress you. You appreciated how he kept his voice barely above a whisper; the bathroom was fit for hushed conversations only.

When you are both bare in front of one another, he pulls you into the bath he filled- your back flush against his chest, and you sigh contently.

Hyunjin pours some gel wash into his hands, then rubs it on your skin, skillfully massaging your tense body. He's so gentle with you- his touch is featherlight, and his mouth leaves a sweet trail of kisses on your back. You feel as if you are floating in space, somewhere where no one can hurt you.

You notice that he used his body wash, not yours; and soon his scent surrounds you until all you could smell is him.

You know that this way, you'll carry Hyunjin with you throughout the night, and onto the following morning when he is no longer there with you.

His scent on your skin will remind you of how he took care of you, how he loved you, how he held you so close to him until you both became one.

°°°°°°°°°°°

"You don't have to stick your nose in the painting to see it", you giggle, and Hyunjin leans away, a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

"I'm trying to see the details. Leave me alone", he pokes his tongue out at you, and you retaliate with the same childish gesture, which in turn makes the both of you chuckle.

You lean your cheek against Hyunjin's arm, and you both contemplate the painting in comfortable silence. "I really wanna be poetic, but this just looks like a child's drawing," you finally say, and he laughs loudly, head tipped back- you can't help but stare in awe at how much joy suits him.

"That's what I thought too!" he high-fives you excitedly before grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the next painting.

It's one of a Renaissance couple kissing, their hands cradling each other's cheeks closely- as if they can't possibly get enough of each other.

"Now this is beautiful", you sigh, and he pokes your side gently. "Let's recreate it."

"You just want an excuse to kiss me", you wiggle your brows at him, and he holds your jaw, beckoning you closer to him.

"And what about it?" he smiles bashfully before crashing his soft lips on yours.

Hyunjin might be biased, but he thinks that if someone were to capture this moment, it would look much better than the painting behind you two.

°°°°°°°°°

"This bag is so heavy," Hyunjin whines, and you stare at him pointedly, "I told you not to buy all that stuff."

"But they were dumpling-themed toys for dogs! I had to get them for Kkami."

"That dog doesn't even like you," you tease, and Hyunjin screeches loudly, stopping in his tracks. "How dare you!"

As you two continue your bickering, an old couple passes you hand in hand. They are seemingly arguing, but as you near them, you can tell they are just joking- just like you two. The fond way they gazed at each other with was a clear testimony of their love.

You and Hyunjin both turn to look at each other; mouths slightly hang agape. "I just got chills," he whispers, and you nod in agreement, "I think we just saw our future selves."

"I can't believe you'll annoy me even when I'm seventy", he jokes, and you lightly punch his side. But in true Hyunjin fashion, he yelps loudly as if you had hurt him.

"Will you still be this dramatic when we are older?"

"This is the only correct way of living", he declares solemnly, and you laugh heartily. The truth is, you wouldn't have it any other way.

Hyunjin throws his arm over your shoulders, bringing you closer to his side. He presses a quick kiss to your head, and you wrap your arm around his middle, resuming your walk.

"I was always afraid of growing up, but it doesn't seem as daunting with you. Because I know I'll have you with me in the end", he says and you beam at his words.

"I can't wait to meet every version of ourselves."

"I know I'll love you in each."

"Yeah? Even if I annoy you every day?" you smile cheekily, and he pinches your cheek affectionately.

"Even then. You are my last love, yn".

°°°°°°°°°°

"Don't come in!", Hyunjin shouts as soon as you open the door. His arms are open wide like a shield blocking you from stepping forward. 

"And why is that...?", you chuckle, slightly pushing him away to pass. He doesn't budge, and you frown.

"Please just go, go, go," he grabs your shoulders, spinning you around until you are facing the door again.

"Hyunjin, what are you hiding?" you ask, amused as you free yourself from his grip. He looks everywhere but at you, and doubt starts to seep inside you. 

"Are you... are you with someone?"

"NO! God, no, how could you think that?"

"Well, you are acting suspicious, I don't know!" You throw your hands up in the air defensively, and he sighs.

"Fine, come see."

Hyunjin walks first into the kitchen, and you gasp softly. To say it's a mess would be an understatement. There are pots everywhere, flour on the ground, and some clearly not-edible cookies on the table.

"This is embarrassing" He hides his face between his hands, and you giggle, gently removing them.

"Did you try to bake for me?" you coo, leaning your face into his until your noses brush together.

"Yeah, I know you've been working hard, and I wanted to surprise you. But clearly, I shouldn't have."

You feel your heart clench at the defeated look on his face, so to cheer him up, you grab a cookie from the tray. Its brown color throws you off, but you still take a big bite. You try your hardest not to scrunch your nose because he definitely used salt and not sugar, and oh- that's an eggshell you are chewing right now.

"This is yummy," you force out, and he rolls his eyes at your blatant lies.

"Please spit it out. I don't want you to die from food poisoning."

You oblige eagerly, thankful for the opening, and Hyunjin leans against the counter, gazing sadly at the cookies. 

"You are the best boyfriend in the world. You know that?"

He timidly shakes his head no, and you smile softly at him, "You are. Now let's clean this and order pizza. I'm starving."

"You are not mad?"

"Why would I be?"

"The kitchen is a mess."

"Well, it's our mess to clean up., And you doing this for me made me so so happy." You stand on your tiptoes and grab the back of his neck, pulling him downward for a kiss. When he leans away, you smile cheekily at him, and he rolls his eyes at you, "Come on, just say it."

"Leave the cookies to Felix."

"Noted."

°°°°°°°°°°°

"Guess who?" you whisper in Hyunjin's ears as you cover his eyes with your hands.

"An intruder who is oddly romantic?", Hyunjin jokes, and you flick the back of his head playfully, "I hate you."

Hyunjin turns around to grab your arm and drags you across the couch. "You love meee", he singsongs as he makes you stand between his legs.

"Yeah, I do" you giggle as he looks up at you, a huge smile on his face.

He looks so pretty from this angle, you think, his eyes wide and sincere poring into yours. You liked how Hyunjin never hid any of his emotions from you; and right now, you could clearly see the adoration he felt for you painted on his face.

You swipe your thumb affectionately across his cheek, and he leans into your touch, totally unguarded. "So... your birthday is in a month," you grin at him, "but since you'll be busy, I figured I'll give you your gift early on."

"You are my gift," his reply is instant. You once thought phrases like those were cheesy but you quickly realized that Hyunjin means them. He says them so easily because it's the truth for him.

"I think you'll really like this present," you smile excitedly as you pull out an envelope from your back pocket.

"Open it," you urge him, and he does as you say. He takes out two plane tickets and looks up at you, confused.

"What are those?"

"We are going to Paris!"

"We are?"

"Yes! In a week. I've prepared everything! I made all the reservations and a list of all the places we could visit. And I got us an exclusive tour of the exhibition you've been dying to see", you explain happily. You've been planning for this trip for a month now, you wanted it to be perfect for him.

Hyunjin's eyes well up with tears and he bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from crying. You knew how badly he wanted to go to Paris, and you went to all of these lengths to make him happy.

"Yn... I..." he stammers, and you hold his hands, gently squeezing them into yours. "It's okay, Jinnie. I know."

"No, I need to say it... I..." he pulls you onto his lap and you place your legs on either side of his body. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, and you pat his back gently, giving him a few moments to gather his thoughts.

"The reason why I wanted to draw your portrait is because I wanted you to see yourself how I see you. I wanted to capture you in a way only I can because I'm so in love with you," he pauses and you kiss his temple, overcome by emotion.

"I hoped that decades from now, someone would find those portraits and they will see how perfect you are. This way, you'll live again through my paintings and my love for you."

"Jinnie...." you whisper, at loss for words. Now it was your turn to tear up.

"Can I finish your portrait in Paris?", he clears his throat and you giggle through your tears, "Please."

"We also should get a portrait done of the two of us on the streets. And we'll hang it in the living room."

"Isn't that a bit pretentious?"

"It's our home. Who's picture are we going to frame? Han?"

"I mean he is our biggest supporter...", you trail off and he laughs at your words, "He really is. But I'm your number one fan."

"Prove it", you smirk and he flips you around until you are laying on the couch and he's caging you with his arms- the necklace he bought with your initial on it dangling over you.

"Oh I will."

------------------

(if you want to know how Hyunjin celebrated op's birthday, you can read When I fell in love heheheh)

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sukuna comforting you after a breakup

Pairing: Sukuna x reader

Word Count: 627

Notes: I don't know who needs to read this but somehow I needed to write it inspired by that edit I saw on Instagram a few days ago

Imagine Sukuna laying his eyes on your puny figure sitting on the completely destroyed sidewalk while you cry your heart out in the middle of Shibuya.

“Why the hell are you sitting there crying like a baby?”

“Leave me alone”, you mutter into your hands.

He furrows his eyebrows, body drawing closer to you. Did those words really leave your mouth? Nobody ever dares to talk to him like that. Especially not when you're all alone out here with Gojo being sealed.

“Don’t you know who I am, stupid girl?”

“I don’t give a damn about who you are. Just leave”, you bark at him.

Why? Why on earth did it end like this? You really thought you could make it, that your relationship can be saved if you put the work in it, that you’ll be able to change yourself. But then this call came in, only minutes before you arrived in Shibuya.

“It’s over, (y/n).”

It’s over. How is it supposed to be over when it didn’t even start yet? How is it supposed to be over when your heart still aches for the tender touch of your love, for the smile that haunts you in your dreams, for this one person alone? A new wave of tears swells up your puffy eyes and takes your sight, body still numb in agony. This can’t be true. It shouldn’t have ended like this.

Your heart sinks through your shaky fingertips onto the floor, bleeds out when reality hits you like a wall.

But it definitely is over.

“You’re lucky I’m having a good day.”

His voice is suddenly next to you, forces your eyes to dart up. This is Yuji. No…Just one look into his blank eyes is enough for you to realize that Sukuna himself is sitting next to you, nipping on a coke as if he isn’t the king of curses.

You should be scared. Fuck, you should scream in horror and try to run away. But instead, you just stare at him blankly. Does it even matter what happens to you anymore?

“What is it?”

“What is what?”, you try to avoid his question.

Oh god, as if it isn’t bad enough that you’re sitting here like an idiot while crying your heart out.

“What is all of this about?”

You swallow hard. There is no way out of this, no chance to escape the piercing gaze of his. You will have to tell him the truth.

“I’ve got dumped today”, you mutter.

“Dumped”, he repeats dryly.

“Dumped.”

“And that’s what you’re crying about? Some random guy?”

“It wasn’t just a random guy”, you bite back in a desperate attempt to defend yourself.

No, more like the one you imagined your future with, the one you wanted to adopt a dog or cat with, the one who was supposed to stay. But now all of this is gone in the wind. Your past, your present, your future. Everything went black.

“You know what makes me so damn strong?”

What? You blink away your tears, confusion written on your face. What on earth is he talking about?

“Because you killed countless people, are older than dinosaurs…-“

“Because I never let a love story distract me from my own strength.”

“What are you talking about?”, you huff in response, shaking your head in sheer disbelief.

What is that supposed to mean? You’re not Ryomen Sukuna, you aren’t a special grade sorcerer, you are…A no one, not even able to keep your relationship up. Fuck, you should have worked on yourself like you've promised over and over, shouldn't have started fights over things that wouldn't have changed anyway. You...You are the problem.

“Shouldn’t you be strong on your own as well?”

You have to blink a few times, mind trying to process the meaning of his words. Sukuna throws away the empty cup of coke and gets up, casually straightening his clothes before yanking your chin upwards, forcing you to stare straight into his red eyes.

“You don’t need anyone. Now get your puny self up and stop giving other people that power over you. If I see you crying over that relationship again, I’ll kill you right on the spot. Got it?”

Your heart flutters uncontrollably in your chest, hands shaking by the sheer force of his words. Why does he have to be so damn right? Why…why do you suddenly feel better?

“Got it”, you breathe out, clenching your trembling fingers into a tight fist.

Yeah, you got it.

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazini @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr@kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299@busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru

[dreamscribee]

💎A Diamond's Destiny💎

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

𐙚 Anthony Bridgerton x female reader

𐙚 Here's PART 1 - make sure to read it before continuing!

𐙚 Summary: In this captivating story, Lady Bridgerton's plan to win the Queen's favor involves you in unexpected intrigue. Your lessons with the charming Lord Julian Ashford take a complicated turn when Anthony Bridgerton shows subtle jealousy. Anthony's request to escort you to the ball hints at deeper feelings, but the plot thickens when you receive a surprise invitation for a private audience with the Queen. This development promises a night full of potential changes and revelations.

𐙚 Word Count: 394 (words), 2,380 (characters)

𐙚 Warning: Like the last chapter, this one ends with a cliffhanger. Stay tuned for more hehehe.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The following day brought a promise of intrigue and revelation. After a morning filled with the chatter and clatter of the Bridgerton household, Lady Bridgerton summoned you to the drawing room where a surprise awaited—an elegant harp veiled under a cloth. She revealed it with a flourish, announcing that it was the key to capturing the Queen’s favor at the upcoming ball.

"Your surprise, my dear. Nothing charms quite like music," she declared, winking.

"I suppose it’s time I learn then," you responded with a skeptical lift of your eyebrow, secretly hoping your musical talents were less dreadful than you remembered.

As it turned out, your music tutor was not the stern, old master you had envisioned, but a young and rather attractive Lord Julian Ashford, known for his musical prowess and charming demeanor. The lesson was filled with laughter and playful banter, although your ability to coax melody from the harp remained questionable.

During a particularly humorous moment, Anthony Bridgerton walked in, his eyes narrowing slightly upon seeing Lord Ashford's guiding hand close to yours. His arrival brought a subtle chill to the warm room.

"Am I interrupting?" Anthony asked, a hint of steel in his tone.

"Not at all, Mr. Bridgerton. Lady Y/N was just mastering the crescendo," Lord Ashford replied smoothly, stepping away with a knowing smile.

Anthony offered his arm, which you accepted, feeling the firm warmth of his grip. "You play beautifully," he said, though you sensed a measure of restraint.

"I only hope to avoid complete disgrace," you quipped, earning a reluctant smile from him.

Before lunch, Anthony formally asked to escort you to the ball, to which you playfully agreed, provided he spared your toes during the dance. His laughter in response lightened the air between you.

However, as you were about to discuss further, a footman delivered a letter from the Queen, requesting a private audience with you that very afternoon. The surprise caught everyone off guard, including yourself.

"The Queen wishes to see me alone?" you murmured, sharing a puzzled look with Anthony.

What could the Queen want with you? And how would this change the events of the coming ball? As you headed to the royal palace, your heart raced with anticipation, leaving Anthony watching, his expression a mix of concern and hope. The stage was set for a night that could change everything.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your father’s nurse, Heather, doesn’t arrive until after noon. Your mother spends much of the morning waiting on her, wondering if something happened. The woman with the steely hair explains that she had to drive from several towns over. It doesn’t matter, you’re just happy to have her there.

Your dad remains despondent. Your mother frets and hovers as Heather’s voice carries through the old farmhouse. She enunciates and projects as she speaks to the husk sitting in the recliner. Your mother paces and as you peek in on the nurse trying to guide your father in a simple exercise, your heart knots and nearly breaks.

You fell outside, proclaiming to your mother that you’ll check the hen house for eggs. She doesn’t argue even though you already did so that day. You tramp out onto the porch and clatter down the stairs. Things change so quickly.

In the distance, you watch the tractor drawing a straight line across the fields. You shield your eyes from the sun and squint. Timothy steers the smaller of the machines closer by. It should be your father out there. He doesn’t belong inside, he’s no type of man to be so still.

You sigh and muster your courage. You go back inside and find your mother standing at the door of the front room. She watches Heather and your dad. He mimics her clumsily as she shows him what to do. He’s shaky and gives up with a harrumph. He’s never been the one to surrender.

“It’ll be okay,” your mother whispers.

“Ma,” you rub her back, “we should start dinner. The day’s half gone.”

She sniffs and nods, “you’re right, honey.”

You walk silently to the kitchen and start on the evening meal. Her special sweet and sour meatballs. The sauce is a family recipe and she serves the signature dish on white rice. The work will keep you both distracted.

🌾

Your mother helps your father to the table as you go out to get your brother and Walter. You find Timothy with a cigarette between his lips. You scowl.

“Don’t let ma see,” you warn him.

“Sorry, I… it’s stressful.”

“Yeah, I know,” you utter dully. “Just don’t smoke by the door.”

You leave him, searching around in confusion. Where’s Walter? Did he leave already? He swore he’d stay for dinner and it’s all your mother talked about as you cooked. You know she’s avoiding mentioning what’s on all your minds.

You walk along the front of the house and turn the corner, nearly colliding with Walter as he comes around. You cry out and laugh at yourself as you touch your chest. He doesn’t flinch.

“Sorry–” You begin.

“My fault,” he insists, “was just making sure the tractor’s read for tomorrow.”

“Oh? Tomorrow?”

“Still lots to be done,” he says casually.

“Right,” you agree, “er, dinner’s ready.”

“You cooked?” He wonders.

“I helped,” you say as you turn and walk ahead of him.

“I saw you. With the chickens,” he follows at half a step. He’s like your very own shadow.

“You did?”

“Tractor stalled,” he supplies. “I think I figured it out though.”

“Oh, that’s good,” you reply awkwardly. You’re not used to him speaking so much. Not to you. “I made dessert tho–”

As you crane to speak over your shoulder, simultaneously lifting a foot to climb the porch steps, your toe hits the wood. You cry out and throw up your hands, bracing for impact. You don’t hit the rigid zigzag, instead caught around the waist as you hover just above them. His strength is effortless as he has you bound up in his thick arm.

Again, Walter saves you from catastrophe. He pulls you back and rights you, brushing against you as he unhooks his arm. He clears his throat and runs his hand down the front of his shirt.

“You alright?” He asks.

“Yeah, I…” you giggle and shake your head, “I’m so… all over the place right now. I’m sorry–”

“As long as you’re fine, no need to apologise,” he assures you.

“Ha, yeah,” you rub the back of your neck and look pointedly at the steps. You take each deliberately, “just needa watch where I’m going.”

He hums and trails after you. As you get to the door, he reaches around you to pull back the screen before you can. You thank him and go inside, stopping to slip off your flats as he unties his boots. The savoury scent of dinner draws you in.

You wait for him and lead him to the dining room. Your mother welcomes him in as she sits close to your father and feeds him. Timothy’s eyes flick back and forth between your parents and his plate fearfully.

“Pat,” Walter approaches the table with you, “Maddie,” he greets firmly, pulling out a chair. Before you can do the same, he gestures you into the seat before him.

“Oh, thanks…” you accept and sit down at your father’s other shoulder and Walter lowers himself into the next chair. You catch your mother’s gaze as she peeks over at you.

“Thank you for having me.”

“It’s our pleasure,” your mother insists, “really. You are helping us so much, dear. I can’t–” her voice crackles, “I can’t tell you how much it means.”

“Ma,” Timothy utters, embarrassment lining his tone.

“It’s the decent thing,” Walter says plainly.

“Would you like some meatballs?” You offer, “rice?”

“Please,” Walter nods and sits back as he watches you scoop a healthy serving of both onto his plate, “thank you.”

You recline and spoon out your own dinner. A lot less than his. You’re not very hungry. Your mom’s plate is barren as she focuses on your dad. Or you assume she does until you once more meet her eye. Her eyes drift over to Walter and back again.

“Very good,” Walter says after a bite.

“Oh, well, my daughter did all the hard work,” your mother preens.

Your furrow your brow at her lie. You are ever her helper. She told you what to fetch and to set the timer but she has to measure it all so precisely.

“Mmm, well, she was taught well, I’m sure,” Walter comments and shovels more into his mouth.

“I didn’t do that much,” you scoff as you slice into one of the large meatballs.

“Oh, of course you did, honey,” your mother chimes. “She’s a great cook, Walter, don’t let her fool you.”

You don’t argue. It isn’t the time and besides, it’s harmless. Just another distraction. She’s redirecting the attention so she doesn’t have to acknowledge the reality sitting right beside her. A few white lies are nothing compared to that.

[divaofmads]

Queen of Heart | Joel Miller

Inspired by a song ~

!!WARNING!!: Smut, +18 only, Fluff, Sex with a Strange Man, Bad Language, Slang using, Depressed, No Y/N (also used "she"), cigarette using, Age Gap ( you are in your early 20s and Joel is in his late 30s), Soft Joel, Before Apocalypse

Please leave comment

A/N: I apologize for the mistakes I made in English that is not my native language and I am trying to improve my writing skills.

It was a Thursday evening, heralding the arrival of winter. It was raining as if it enjoyed making people experience its cold and gloomy spirit. Puddles had turned into lakes, people had opened their umbrellas to avoid getting wet, and those who were unaware of the weather warnings had taken shelter in their coats and bags for protection. Everyone was in a rush. Their steps were fast, their movements were hurried. But fate had no mercy on their pitiful state. As if it enjoyed people's helplessness, it made everything worse. Traffic jams, accidents, people cursing because they couldn't get to where they needed to be... All of these were like a hag blocking the magnificence of the night.

Joel was the only one who submitted to fate that night. He had stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat to protect himself from the biting cold, and had pulled the collar up and zipped it up to the tip of his nose so that the steam trapped behind the fabric could warm his lips and cheeks, which had become numb by the cold.

He had chosen another way to get home. Since his daughter Sarah was staying over at his uncle’s house, he could forget about responsibilities. He wanted to walk for a long time, all by himself. When he entered a street with broken lights, instead of the angry sounds of the city, the sound of rain hitting the concrete echoed in his ears. He was walking between apartment walls which plaster was cracked and bricks were visible. Dogs and rats hid in spray-painted garbage containers or in cardboard boxes thrown next to the containers. As the wind blew hard, the expired concert posters hanging on the wall could no longer hold on and were flying in the air. Joel’s boots were completely soaked. If he walked any further down the alley, his shoes would slowly start to absorb water.

But Joel’s past kept coming back to him. Every memory was harassing him, coming back to him and making him feel hopeless. The best thing that had ever happened to him in his life was his daughter. She was his luck. When the woman he loved left them, he hoped for a connection with his daughter. But now the feelings he had escaped from years ago were grabbing Joel’s arm and dragging him into the darkness. Still, the city sounds he had complained about a moment ago had given him a chance to distract himself. He had finally left the street and was walking along the sidewalk. Thinking it was time to go home, he looked at his wristwatch, but it wasn’t working. He waited for the green light at the corner of the sidewalk to cross the street. At that moment, he felt movement next to him. Taking advantage of the rain stopping, the old man was smoking a cigarette. He lifted his head slightly, freed his mouth from his coat, and called out to the man.

"Excuse me."

The man looked at him smugly.

"Can you tell me the time? Mine isn't working."

Without taking his eyes off Joel, the man took draws at cigarette , then tugged at the cuff of his jacket and glanced at the clock.

"11.00"

Joel thanked the sullen oldster anyway and wished him good night as he crossed the street after the light turned green.

He was walking on the bridge. Now there was no sound of an engine or a horn coming from a single place. Suddenly he felt like the city was going to swallow him and lifted his bowed head up, taking a deep breath. He saw a woman standing behind the banisters, watching the city view. His slow steps slowed down even more after seeing the woman and finally stopped. Unlike people, she had not escaped from the rain. Her hair that reached down to her shoulders was soaked, the strands of his hair stuck together. She had obviously experienced bigger things that was afraid of neither getting cold nor getting wet. She was wearing a denim jacket that would wear on a spring day, a pair of thin cotton sweatpants underneath, and a scarf wrapped awkwardly around his neck. The girl's body was shaking from the cold, but she didn't seem to feel it. As Joel moved closer to her, he realized she was crying. He wondered what she was thinking as he held on to the banister. Whatever her problem was, Joel wasn't going to leave her there alone. When he gently grabbed the woman's shoulder, she flinched in fear and looked at Joel.

"Madam, you shouldn't be here at this time of day in this weather. You'll catch a cold."

When the woman looked at him, he realized that she was tired of crying for a long time who stared at him blankly, not seeming to be afraid of the large man who had approached her.

"I'm sure, not where I'm supposed to be." she said and continued to look at the view. The girl's mysterious answer caught Joel's attention. Her hysterical look stood out to him. He felt that if they could combine these two unlucky worlds and be happy, they would understand each other.

He subconsciously wanted to show the girl that they were made for each other and imitated her and started looking at the view.

"You know, you're not the only one crushed under the chaotic progress of the city tonight." He said as she continued to look at the view, as if she didn't care what he said. "The only reason I live in this life is my daughter."

But she was not what she seemed, replied in a tone so weak that it was almost inaudible.

"Look, you see? One of us is much luckier." said her voice ready to cry.

Joel felt the girl's answer deep in his heart.

He turned her face and looked at her carefully. "Do you think you don't have this chance?" he thought as asked the question, that such a pure beauty shouldn't be this upset. This was unfair. Her cheeks shouldn't be stained with mascara that flowed with tears, her lips that were chapped from the tension of crying should be kissed by a man who loved her and made her smile.

As soon as the girl heard Joel's question, she turned towards him with her body. Although she pressed her lips together to keep from crying, her trembling chin gave herself away. She looked into Joel's eyes with pain until she swallowed her sobs. Even a little afraid. Her fear was trapped in the cruel arms of loneliness.

"What do you know about me that you can say such a thing?"

Joel nodded and replied, "You're right. I don't know you. But I'm looking into the eyes of a little girl who is tired of embracing her loneliness."

The girl let out a deep breath as she smiled faintly, as if relieved, and turned her head back to the view, breaking eye contact.

Joel patted the girl’s arm through the wet denim jacket. “It’s no coincidence that we met here tonight. Don't you really realize this?”

She frowned, her face contorted as if she were in pain, and she began to cry with all her might. Her sobs made it difficult for her to breathe and to utter the words she was trying to say.

"I'm so tired. There's no hope for me anymore."

If they had met at another time and under different circumstances, Joel was sure that he would have done everything in his power to prevent the young woman from becoming like this. The woman who had a beauty that would have been mentioned among the goddesses in ancient times was now nothing more than a slave trying to please despair and sadness. Only Joel's love could raise the girl's soul to enlightenment. He approached her softly and wrapped his arms around her body, holding her between his own.

"Shhh... I promise you," he said, his fingers caressing her hair tenderly. He pressed her head to his left breast. "Everything you've been through will be left behind."

The girl had lost so much faith that her long loneliness would ever end that when Joel embraced her with fatherly affection, her hysterical weeping flared up and she clung to him as sacredly as a little girl clings to her father. They stayed like that for a while, but she was shivering under his arms from the cold. Joel gently grabbed her arms around her waist and pulled them away from him.

Without thinking, Joel unzipped his coat, took it off, and draped it over the shoulders of the woman whose lips were purple from the cold. Her skinny body was lost in his coat. Joel stood next to her and lifted one arm up and wrapped it around her shoulder so that her body was now warmly pressed between his arm and chest and they started walking.

"Is your house near here?" he asked at first, but there was no answer from her. "I can't leave you alone in the middle of the night. If you tell me where you live, I'll take you there and you'll be safe."

She continued to cry. As they walked down the stairs, Joel tried to calm her down and told her not to cry, but she continued to cry as if she didn't hear him. As they walked down the steps, the girl sometimes talked to herself. Since Joel couldn't hear what she was saying, she couldn't get an answer when he asked what was wrong, but he didn't forget to hug her despite everything.

"You're not answering my questions. We can't stay out much longer, do you hear me? Or you'll get sick." Again there was no response from the girl. "Then I'll take you my home. At least you'll be warm and safe until morning."

"My God, what have you been through until get to this point?"

Joel's house was far away, and when they were halfway there, the woman's steps slowed down considerably. She had no strength left to walk, had already been tired both mentally and physically all day. She could not stand it any longer and told Joel in a pleading tone that she could not go any further. "Can't we stop for a while? Sit on a bench."

Joel looked around but saw that there were no benches. There was nowhere for them to sit and the girl was exhausted. He thought. It was late enough that taxis weren't going to pass very often on the road they were walking on. Joel looked for another solution. Maybe he could wait for the taxi to come, but he was suspicious of you.

"Hang on, honey. We've got ten minutes left," Joel said warmly. Then he placed one arm around her back and the other under legs, lifting her off the ground.

She put her hands around his neck. It was the closest them had been since they met. Their faces were inches apart, he could easily see your eyes, lips, nose, and eyebrows. He had never seen such beauty before. Neither sadness nor grief could hide the girl's beauty. He watched her face carefully to memorize every detail.

The girl's expression changed for a moment. She was crying silently. As if she was afraid he would notice. Joel wondered what was going on in her mind. She must have been in a lot of pain. He increased the strength in his arms and applied pressure to her back, then he brought her face closer to his and kissed her forehead in a sweet, innocent way.

"Okay, little lady, cry if it makes you feel better. I'm here for you, you're not alone, don't worry.

Joel felt tired after a few minutes. The night was cold, but his tiredness left him drenched in sweat. It became difficult to regulate his breathing rhythms. He thought he could have carried it more easily if it had been ten years ago, but he tried not to reflect his tiredness on the girl. He didn't want her to think she had left him in a difficult situation.

When they got home, Joel called out to her. "We're finally here. You can get off my lap." She nodded and got off his lap, looking around. It seemed like a quiet, friendly neighborhood. Considering the apartment building where she lived had a lot of drunken singing, prostitutes laughing, and a daily burglary, this was the kind of neighborhood she'd dreamed of. For the first time since they'd met, they started a topic of conversation. "It must be nice to live in a detached house."

Joel was also surprised, but his surprise turned to happiness. He smiled as he unlocked the door and looked at the young woman. "And we have friendly neighbors. I'm sure you'd love it here."

The young woman merely smiled mousy. As he returned his smile, Joel walked in, and so did the girl. But she was a little shy. Joel took her coat off of himself, hung it on the dresser, and turned to her as he walked inside.

"Hey, you can imagine this your home. Don't ask for permission for anything." The girl nodded and started following Joel. They were taking a little tour in the house. It was like she was going to live in this house now.

The man had already accepted her. He turned to the girl and put his hand on her waist and pulled her to his side so that she would not stand far away. "This is the living room, there is the kitchen over there. After you shower, your food will be ready, we will eat it here, you must be hungry." She could tell by her look how hungry she was.

He smiled and looked at her clothes with displeasure. "We can pick out some clothes that are too big for Sarah. Your clothes will be dry until morning."

The young woman watched the man as he climbed the stairs. He selected a new bathrobe and towel from the linen closet. She continued to watch him as he walked down the hall to the bathroom. As he talked about what she was going to do, she realized that good men could exist beyond fairy tales, and she reveled in that.

"Why are you helping me, someone you don't even know?"

The question was one Joel hadn’t expected. His movements slowed thoughtfully as he dropped the towels onto the chair next to the tub. “I told you. Nothing that happened tonight was by chance.” He straightened up and moved closer to her. “This was meant to happen,” he paused, his eyes fixated on the wall. “Besides, I was serious about you not being alone tonight.”

She didn't know what else to say to him other than 'thank you' as he left her alone in the bathroom to shower.

Joel went down to the kitchen and got the ingredients out of the refrigerator to prepare food and then got to work. He laughed to himself as he remembered the memory that came to his mind while chopping tomatoes on the board. Tommy's girlfriend, whom he had broken up with a week ago, was a strange woman. She was very interested in fortune telling and everyone believed in these ridiculous, made-up prophecies. When Joel invited them to a barbecue party one night and Tommy said that he had definite ideas about fortune telling, the woman insisted on telling him fortune. No matter how angry Joel was, Sarah and he managed to convince him in the end.

Tommy's ex ran over and brought the cards who spread them out on the table. Thus began the cartomancy nonsense. Joel chose the queen of hearts. Warmth, compassion, healing, unconditional love. Sooner or later, her lover's brother would meet a woman with whom he would have a healthy and balanced relationship. They would find in each other everything they lacked, and they would love themselves more in this relationship. Was it really necessary to believe in cartomancy? Maybe that crazy woman was right. Come on!

The sandwiches were ready and took their places on the table. As he poured fresh orange juice into the glasses, he began to hum the lyrics of the Mr. Sandman song that came to mind as a memory.

"Please turn on your magic beam

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream"

But as he was leaving the glasses on the table, his song was interrupted by the movement he felt in front of the kitchen door. Out of the corner of his eye he saw it was her. She was wearing nothing but a towel covering her privates. Joel's lips were slightly parted, his face somewhere between shock and seriousness. The words were stuck in his throat. "You..." was all he could say.

The young woman put on a facial expression that showed how much she needed him and simply said, "Come, please." holding out her hand.

She released the towel that barely covered her and fell to the floor. Her smooth skin was now bright and shiny in the kitchen light. The perfect measure of her waist, her full breasts with nipples hardened by the cold, my God, she was a true goddess. Still, he thought to himself, to respond to her request would be to take advantage of her confusion and go against his moral sense.

Joel said with a sense of shame hidden behind his serious appearance, "I don't think that's right." He approached the young woman. He picked up the white towel that had fallen on the floor and held it over her to take it. But the girl touched Joel's cheek with an attitude that knew what she wanted and looked him in the eyes with certainty. "I thought about what you said and I realized that we would be good for each other. I need to sleep in the arms of a man like you tonight, if you want it too."

Joel swallowed. He was excited like a boy who was a novice. This was different, very different. He stood there, not knowing what to do, when the young woman suddenly pressed herself to his lips. With one hand, she squeezed his cheeks, causing his lips to part, so she slid her tongue under his tongue. Warm and moist. Rubbing it under and over his tongue, she created a slight tickling sensation.

Shee bit his lower lip, ran her tongue and teeth along his jawbone, and then she started biting his neck. This had felt wrong and foreign to him at first, but he had adapted very quickly. He wrapped his arms around her, picked her up, and with one hand he motioned for her to wrap her leg around his waist. Her feet had left the ground, and they continued to kiss wildly as Joel led her into the living room. Her hair was wet, and water droplets were following a path from her forehead to the corners of her eyes and then to her lips. The wet kiss made them even more passionate. Joel gently laid the young girl on the couch, and with quick movements, without taking his eyes off the girl, he began to take off his clothes. His dark green shirt and the black T-shirt he wore underneath. His bronze skin highlighted his masculine body lines, allowing the light to shine like gold on his muscles in the dim environment. Joel saw the admiration in the girl's eyes and leaned towards her smiling lips with much more enthusiasm. The man's skin was warm, as the woman's cold fingers touched his skin, he felt the lust in their touch deeply, he felt his cells coming back to life. His hands explored the young woman's flexible body lines. He caressed her breasts, squeezed them, and sucked her hardening nipples, leaving bites. When his lips found her neck again, his fingers moved down from her breasts to her belly, leaving tickling touches, and reached her hips and began to caress her legs. The drops of water flowing from her damp hair were wetting the girl's skin, its brightness creating an erotic appearance. As they looked into eyes, they were both out of breath and knew that they had committed the most sacred sin ever. According to Joel, this sin was love, and it was worth burning in hell for it. "Oh my god, you're the sexiest woman I've ever seen in my life," he said as he unbuckled his belt. The sound of his metal belt buckle was hitting the living room walls. The sound of his leather sliding against the denim fabric was quite inviting when he pulled the belt quickly. When he took off his pants, the strain visible in his boxers almost ripped the fabric. After peeling off the black fabric and getting rid of that, he held her ankles and spread her legs apart and entered between them, his rock-hard dick hitting her upper thighs and rubbing against her groin, finding her vulva. He was now applying pressure to her swollen outer lips. The love they felt for each other had spread from their souls to their bodies, causing spasms in their groins. The cold feeling left by the water combined with Joel’s warm tongue strokes created an indescribable sensitivity in her neck, breasts, and belly. You were touching each other in places no one had ever touched before. Now they had to go much further than making love. When her hand reached out and grasped Joel’s erect penis, they smiled at each other’s lips.

"You are so eager, lady, so ready to touch me." Biting her lower lip,

"So aren't you?" the girl asked.

"I'm always ready for you," he said, pressing the girl's flexible body even more onto the cushion and they continued kissing while the girl rubbed his dick.

He was moaning so seductively that as his hot breath touched her ear and the back of it, a shiver ran down her spine and covered her body, accompanying her moans as she closed her eyes and felt his voice more. She didn't even need to touch him now, for her to squirt.

Joel placed his calloused fingers on the woman's tiny waist and, with a force so hard that it hurt slightly, forced the girl to lie face down. She could feel the slight sting of thorns on her skin as her breasts were pressed against the furry fabric. She must have been allergic.

He pulled her wet hair from her back and found its place on the left side of her neck, biting her bare side and started rubbing his penis hard in her vagina. In this way, the extreme pleasure and pain she felt would balance each other.

Joel growled. "Oh, it feels so warm and wet!"

When his cock, which was getting harder as it rubbed against her vulva, restricted her movements, the young woman lifted her hips up with the help of her arms and, standing in doggy position, started to caress his cock and balls between the parts of her hips. Joel was shaking on his knees, leg muscles clenched, breathing shallow.

He didn't want to end things like this. He wanted to feel the girl from the inside. He held her ass tightly and stopped her. He took his veiny cock in his hand and placed it at the entrance to her vagina.

Before he entered her, Joel asked passionately, "You wanted my cock so bad, uh, honey?"

As soon as she answered, "Yes," Joel reached for her hair and grabbed her roughly, pulling her back. "No short answers! Tell me what you want me to do!"

"I want your thick cock , please!" she breathed.

"Atta girl!" He whispered with warm breath on her ears.

He pushed the head of his penis into her vagina and inserted it. Her vagina slowly expanded and her walls wrapped around his cock that was too thick for. She moaned in slight pain, but it was also very pleasurable. Joel finally pushed it all inside. Her vagina was stretched wider than ever. He started pumping with long, slow strokes. She hadn't had much experience with sex before, but it was obvious that he was the best.

"You tell me when to speed up, honey." He whispered. She began to respond to his movements in a synchronized manner.

His hands gripped her elbows tightly, pulling her body a little closer.

She moaned, "Now, fuck me faster now!"

He moved faster, thrusting his at least seven inch cock in and out rapidly. Wet sounds were made as her vagina met his cock. Joel bend over and pulled her closer, his hands still gripping her elbows. He placed his hand under her chin, forcing her eyes to look up at the ceiling, so that he could place her head in the crook of his neck. His thumb was gently caressing her cheek. He placed his lips somewhere between her jawbone and ear. A shiver ran down spine and into her groin.

Deep and guttural moans released from his mouth, "Why does your pussy feel so good!"

The girl used her vagina to squeeze Joel, driving him crazy. They were shaking every time that big hard tool entered her.

He growled with powerful deep thrusts "Do you like the feeling of a man's penis that you don't know, uh?"

The girl's voice sounded like she couldn't stand the pleasure any longer. "Yeah, I love the way you fuck me!"

While he was pumping his penis inside her over and over again, with the last pump he would take the young woman to the edge. She would reach the peak of pleasure. He could feel her pulse on the surface of his finger as he squeezed her neck under his hand while he was cumming inside her. As his seeds washed her cunt, the girl also had an orgasm and both of their pleasure juices flowed out of her vagina at the same time. The space between her legs was sticky and shiny. Drops of water were running down the insides of her upper thighs. As their breaths mingled, the young woman freed herself from Joel's grasp and threw herself onto the couch, lying on her back. Her chest was rising and falling. There was still an inviting look in the girl's eyes. Joel took advantage of this and collapsed on top of her, started to kiss her lips. His tongue was kissing her as if he was fucking her mouth now. As their passionate kiss slowly heated up, Joel's hands couldn't stop themselves from caressing her legs. But he didn't want to tire her out any further. They still hadn't eaten. He didn't want to drain her of all her energy, so he pulled his lips away from hers and leaned his face against her chest.The young woman put her fingers into his grey hair strands and started to mix it up slowly.

After they had rested, the girl asked, "Are you sure your daughter won't suddenly appear and catch us?"

Joel lifted himself up on his arms and looked down at the young woman. "She's staying with her uncle tonight. It's not possible. Are you hungry?"

She nodded, "I'm starving."

Joel stood up, picked up her , put her arms around him, looked at him with happy eyes, and he walked out of the living room and up the stairs. He took her to the bedroom. After cleaning the sperm and pre-cum leaking from her vagina, he left her alone in the room. He brought clothes from the bathroom and handed them to the girl. "After you get dressed, you can go down to the kitchen."

They were both silent as they ate. If she asked him a question about his life, she had to tell him either, and the same was true for Joel.

However, it was Joel who broke the silence."Why were you on the bridge? It didn't look like you were trying to commit suicide."

The girl was chewing the bite from the sandwich. That's why she couldn't pronounce the words properly. But Joel could see the sadness returning to her face.

""I just wanted to forget myself in the chaos of the city." Then she grinned insincerely, as if she had to smile. "Otherwise I'm too cowardly to commit suicide." Her voice trembled as she emphasized the last words, and averted her eyes.

Joel stroked her hair. "Shh... I'm with you now. I won't give you any reason to cry."

He put his arms on the table and leaned towards her slightly. "Really, we haven't officially met yet. I asked you your name when we were walking on the street, but you brushed it off."

The woman couldn't make an excuse, but she was nervous as she answered Joel's question, unlike him. He repeated her name over and over as they spoke. As if each time he said her name was a great reward. Joel liked the woman. The way she was young and beautiful, the way they had met, the way she enjoyed his conversation except when he was sad.

Joel called out to her, trying to start a new topic of conversation, but she was the first to respond. “Joel, I actually want to go to sleep. We’ve been through enough.”

Joel nodded in displeasure. But he was also trying to understand the girl's situation. He was being understanding. "Okay, you can go sleep wherever you want."

As she stood up, she patted Joel's arm and gave him a rather long kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for everything, Joel. I'll always remember that kindness."

After the girl left, Joel sat in the kitchen chair for a while longer, wondering if Sarah would like the young lady. Would their relationship crown itself with love, as the crazy Ex said?

Joel chuckled to himself. He was being ridiculous, really. A forgotten emotion had awakened and blossomed in his heart, exciting him and making him feel like a high school teenager. He put his teenage thoughts out of his mind and collected the dishes from the table and put them in the dishwasher. He still had a goofy smile on his face. It was a very difficult day for him too. All the negativity had piled up and he felt like life was suffocating him. However, this beautiful girl had entered his life like an angel and brought the light of heaven to his soul.

When Joel climbed the stairs and entered his room, he saw that the girl was already asleep in her bed. He lay down next to her without letting her wake up. When the girl mumbled something in her sleep, Joel thought she was talking, so he answered. But she was just mumbling. Names of people he didn't know, names he'd never heard in their conversations. His dream was to watch her until the morning, but the tiredness of the day took him captive too.

He was dreaming. It was the most peaceful dream he had had in a while. He felt proud, and he claimed to know. The Queen of Hearts had not failed him. She was right there beside him, bringing light into his life. What else could rich bourgeois girl mean? He was lucky now.

But this dream was cut short by the morning sun. The sky had just brightened. The biting cold of winter was chilling. That's why when he woke up, he had his arms clasped together. He had rubbed his eyes and looked to his left to realize his dream of wishing good morning to the woman he loved, whom he had missed for a long time. But she was not there. His eyebrows furrowed in curiosity. The side where the girl had slept last night was the window side and he saw something on the window pane that had been fogged up from the cold. He stood up, approached the window with heavy steps and stared at the writing written in the fog there.

"Goodbye."

[projectionistwrites]

FOR SCIENCE | SUBJECT 2

In which the Moon Knight alter system presents a unique opportunity to settle the nature versus nurture debate, once and for all...

Marc Spector x afab!psychologist!reader (11.0k+)

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: fetishization of mental disorders (DID), psychoanalysis, potentially unethical scientific practices, SMUT (dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f! and m!receiving), unprotected p in v sex, squirting, creampie, bondage, intense edging, reader is very mean, facesitting/riding, 69ing, praise kink, dirty talk, use of the stoplight system) NOTES: time for everyone’s favorite babygirl. again, i really hope i did marc’s character justice. also, you can’t tell me marc wouldn’t look so pretty crying for you. i kinda went feral on this one. &lt;3 DISCLAIMER: although i’m incredibly knowledgeable about psychology, i am NOT a professional. all psychoanalyses made throughout the course of this storyline are entirely my own, based on my own interpretations of the characters. in a similar vein, i am also not an expert on DID specifically (although i am well-read on mental disorders and diagnoses), so i apologize for any incorrect terminology or misrepresentation. don’t hesitate to call me out if i say something wrong!

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CASE STUDY: MARC SPECTOR

ROLE IN COGNITIVE SYSTEM: Host / Apparently Normal Part

ATTACHMENT STYLE: Fearful

CHARACTERISTICS: cocksure, standoffish, pensive, calculating; resilient to a fault; views himself as irredeemable in the face of his past, unworthy of forgiveness or compassion; must be in control of every situation in order to feel secure.

SPLIT FROM HOST: N/A

TRAUMA RESPONSE: tendency to run when facing emotionally distressing situations

SEXUAL PRESENTATION: dominant, assertive, deliberate, practiced, indulgent; derives majority of satisfaction from his ability to draw pleasure from his partner; cognitive blockages that are reminiscent of self-sabotage (undeserving of release or pleasure).

“You’re early, Doc.”

Marc teased—he was leaning against the doorframe with a smug smirk on his face, successfully blocking your entrance into his flat. You felt your face heat up beneath his devious gaze.

“I know.”

Your words were softer than you’d intended them to be, more hesitant—Marc’s eyes narrowed at your wavery response.

He wordlessly stepped to the side, allowing you to finally slip past him and into the threshold of the apartment. You paused in the entrance as the door clicked shut behind Marc. He narrowly avoided colliding into your form as he turned, his arms jutting out to brace himself against you to prevent either of you from stumbling. His hands gripped your biceps, his chest pressed against your back. Your body tensed under his touch, and he let out a low chuckle, slipping past you and further into the space.

“Jesus, you’re touchy today. Everything okay?”

He leaned back against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed over his chest as he studied you. The movement was so easy, so casual and relaxed, as if this was just like any other time you’d hung out at his place—as if you weren’t there just to get into his pants. You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as you glanced down at your worn sneakers. It felt...different, this time. With Steven, you knew there would be a learning curve for both of you. You knew that, to some extent, you would be the one calling the shots, making Steven feel safe and comfortable. But now...you were intimidated. And ashamed to admit it.

You must’ve been quiet a beat too long, because the next second, Marc was in front of you, standing toe-to-toe. When you didn’t meet his eyes, his left hand came to nudge your chin upward, forcing your gaze upon him. You gulped, but his dark eyes were softened with concern.

“Hey. You gotta talk to me, Y/N. What’s on your mind?”

You blew out a breath.

“No, it’s nothing, I’m just—”

“—nervous?”

Marc finished for you, and you squeezed your eyes shut in an effort to prevent yourself from seeing the satisfied look on his perfect face.

“Yes, Marc, laugh it up. I’m nervous.”

“Hey, I didn’t even—”

“Yeah, but you were gonna.”

You snapped with a glare, but you felt guilt punch through your gut when a look of hurt crested Marc's features. You sighed.

“Shit, Marc, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“I am, too, you know.”

You blinked once, then twice.

“You’re...what?”

He rolled his eyes, huffing out a bitter, humorless laugh, as if he thought you were toying with him. When he saw the genuine confusion on your face, he threw his head back with a groan.

“You’re really gonna make me say it, huh?”

Your eyes narrowed, but when you finally realized what he meant, you felt a small smile creep onto your face.

“Wait—you’re nervous?”

Marc shrugged sheepishly, and you could see a bit of color rise to his cheeks—was he blushing?

“You’re telling me—Marc Spector is nervous?”

“Yeah, and who’s laughing it up, now?”

He quirked a brow, giving you an accusatory look, and you giggled at him, the tension melting away from your body easily.

“I’m not laughing at you, Marc, I’m just—why would you be nervous? Especially around me?”

He shook his head at you incredulously, taking a few steps closer. You felt your back press up against the door behind you, successfully trapping you in Marc's vicinity.

“S’that so hard to believe? A pretty girl like you, coming over to study how I am in bed—even if it’s just for science?”

Marc wiggled his brows theatrically, and you laughed again, shaking your head. Still, there was blood pumping loud in your ears as he spoke, and you could feel electricity crackle in the air between you, charged with energy.

“Yeah, for science. But—you have pretty girls over all the time to see how you are in bed.”

“Yeah, but s’never been you, has it?”

The words were barely audible, muttered lowly beneath his breath, but you felt your jaw slacken at his quiet confession. Your eyes flitted up to his, and there was that cheeky, self-satisfied grin on his face again—fuck, he was too handsome, you just wanted to—

“Can I just fuckin’ kiss you, already?”

He was close, now, his warm exhales mingling with your own. His brown eyes glittered onyx as he drank you in, lips parted just slightly, the tip of his nose barely brushing your own. You felt faint, the proximity dizzying as temptation sank its teeth into your flesh. With the faintest nod of your head, Marc took the plunge.

You’d never had a kiss quite like this one before. Of course, Steven’s was great, but it was exactly what you’d expected—a desperate clash of teeth and tongue, the two of you battling your insecurities to fall into a steady rhythm. But this—this was fucking special. Marc’s hand slipped behind your head to thread through your hair, his other arm looping around your waist to pull you flush against him. You were frankly surprised at the tenderness with which his lips found yours, starting with a barely-there brush of his mouth. It was sweet, and raw, intimate, and you felt his lashes flutter against your cheek when he pulled away too soon.

You were breathless, your face following his as he drew back, desperate to maintain the contact. He chuckled at this, but remained close, eyes finding yours again.

“Still nervous?”

He asked, his voice low and gravelly. His eyes seemed darker as he smirked down at you, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. Your eyes flitted down to his mouth, your breath catching in your lungs at the sight. Something resembling a squeak involuntarily escaped your throat.

“Marc. Please.”

You whined, big doe-eyes glimmering, and Marc scrunched his face up as though he was in pain, eyes squeezed shut tight as he groaned. He rested his forehead against yours.

“Shit. You really gonna make it that easy for me, baby?”

He practically hissed, and a breathy laugh blew past your lips. Marc captured your mouth with his again, harder this time, the hand that was in your hair reached up to brace himself against the door above your head, successfully caging you in. You hummed against him as his tongue passed through the seam of your lips, sinking into you further. Your desperate hands reached up and clawed at his chest, gripping the navy blue fabric of his cotton t-shirt in your fingers as you held him close. He pressed himself into you, and you could feel the hardness of his bulge flush against your lower abdomen. A moan escaped you at the feeling of his arousal, your body instinctually thrusting into his hold. You could feel him smile into the kiss.

“Yeah? You feel what you do to me, huh, baby?”

He teased against your lips, and you tossed your head back, thudding against the door behind you. You looked down your nose at him, through your lashes, panting slightly, your hands still twisted in the material of his shirt.

“Fuck, Marc, want you so bad, just—”

Your words died on your breath when his arms abruptly slid beneath your butt and hoisted you upwards, your legs wrapping around his waist and your arms around his neck. One of his large hands stayed firmly squeezing the flesh of your ass, the other roamed the length of your back as he pressed his lips against yours again, turning to walk you further into the apartment.

“Jesus, this is gonna be fun.”

He mumbled at your eagerness and responsiveness, your hands threading through his brown curls as he brought you towards the bed, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. You gasped when he threw you back onto the mattress abruptly, your body bouncing once at the contact, causing you to giggle. But then Marc was stalking over your body, hovering above your body with a predatory look in his eyes. He licked his lips as you blinked up at him.

“Gonna take my time with you, pretty girl. Gonna absolutely ruin you.”

You impatiently pulled his face back to yours, and he didn’t resist, kissing you back with equal fervor and desire as your own, but the moment you lifted your hips to seek friction from his body, he pulled away, tutting at you condescendingly.

“Ah, ah, ah. Relax, baby. Don’t torture yourself.”

He smirked, fingers dancing across the skin of your stomach beneath the hem of your shirt. You reacted immediately, lifting your arms above your head to allow him to pull it from your body.

“Look at you—so obedient.”

His patronizing tone normally would’ve pissed you off, but there was something about the look in Marc's eyes—completely enraptured with you, ready to give you the world—that made you want to do whatever he said. He reached behind your body to undo your bra, fingers nimbly unhooking the clasps as he yanked it off of you, his face immediately sinking into your cleavage. He groaned, lips frantically attaching themselves to the flesh between your breasts, wandering across the expanse of the newly-exposed skin and wherever they could reach.

“Oh, baby. Got such pretty tits.”

He growled, teeth playfully sinking into the skin at the top of your right breast, earning a yelp from your mouth as he quickly soothed the sting with a swipe of his tongue, smirking up at you. The heat of his mouth was enough to briefly distract you from his wandering hands, but then he was yanking your pants down your legs in one fell swoop, leaving you bare save for the plain pink cotton panties you’d worn today—they weren’t particularly sexy, as you had been trying to prevent your apparel from serving as a confounding variable, but Marc still looked like he wanted to devour you.

His rough hands ran up the plush skin of your thighs, over your hips before squeezing at your tits, making your back arch up and off the bed. A dark chuckle sounded from above you.

“So eager.”

He hummed, pressing a kiss to your mouth, and you felt his hands travel down your body again, teasingly fondling at the waistband of your underwear as you sighed. You let your own hands travel beneath his shirt, running your hands along the warmth of his toned abdomen, coaxing him out of the material. You were happily surprised when he honored your silent request, allowing you to pull the shirt over his head and toss it to the side. His expression flickered for a moment as you admired him, his eyes briefly shining with a certain warmth that you couldn’t decipher. He pressed his lips to yours, a soft, sweet kiss, but when he pulled away, the wicked gleam in his eye had returned.

“Gonna make you feel good, baby. You want me to touch you?”

Your nod was frantic, your head pressed back into the pillows as you forced your body to stay still beneath him, even as you desperately wanted to rut up against his jean-clad thighs.

“Yeah, you do, huh? Bein’ such a good girl for me, baby—you gonna keep behavin’ yourself? Gonna let me take care a’ you?”

You whined, desperation starting to pulse through your limbs, making you want to squirm.

“Yes, Marc, yes, just—please—”

He shushed you, his lips pressing hotly beneath your jaw before continuing down the column of your neck, down your sternum, across your breasts, and finally stopping above your navel. He hummed into your skin, the vibrations causing a chill to pass over your spine, goosebumps rising in their wake. He lifted his hands to spread your legs further apart, granting him the space to lay between them so he was face-to-face with your clothed core.

“Fuck, baby—soakin’ for me already.”

You could feel his hot breath against the cool, damp material of your panties, and you jolted when his fingers lightly pressed against the wet spot, the pads of his digits just barely swiping over your folds. Your toes curled and legs tensed, trying hard to withstand Marc's slow, relentless teasing. He seemed to be enjoying it, a dark chuckle escaping his mouth at your reaction.

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

He requested lowly, hands pressed against your inner thighs to hold them apart in front of him. You tried to make your voice steady.

“Marc, please, just—”

His fingers harshly curled into the flesh of your thighs, creating divots in the soft skin as you flinched. He gave you a warning glare.

“You never struck me as the bratty type. C’mon, baby—tell me what you want.”

“You, Marc, fuck—want you so bad. Always wanted you.”

You flinched at your own confession, but Marc responded with a throaty growl.

“Oh, yeah? Thought this was just for research, hm?”

You felt his nose brush against the crotch of your panties, and you whimpered, your hips lifting of their own accord. Marc’s hands gripped your waist tightly and slammed your ass back into the mattress, pressing you down firmly.

“That’s enough.”

He warned, suddenly strict, and you swallowed, trying hard to resist the urge to sink your hands in his hair and force him towards where you needed him most.

“Fuckin’ greedy little thing. I’ll give you whatever you want, pretty girl—just wanna hear you say it.”

You bit your lip defiantly, feigning confusion at his request, and he growled again, teeth sinking into the flesh of your hip right above the waistband of your panties. You jumped at the sensation, letting out a sharp cry, and you felt the vibration of his chuckle through your skin.

“Go on, Y/N. Tell me the truth. Tell me how bad you want me.”

Your resolve shattered.

“Want you so bad, Marc. Wanted you since the day I met you. Wanted you to bend me over the desk in my office, wanted—wanted to get on my knees for you right there on the bus. Got off to the thought of you fucking me so many times, Marc, shit, please, would you just—”

He practically ripped the panties from your body as his mouth finally surged forward to steal a taste of your sopping cunt. You yelped in surprise when his tongue swiped through your folds, and Marc wasted no time in sinking two fingers into your throbbing entrance, already beginning a relentless pace within you.

“Oooh, FUCK, Marc—”

You exclaimed, hips thrusting upward at the sudden stimulation, and Marc’s strong arm reached up to press down on your stomach, forcing your movements to halt.

“Sit fuckin’ still—want you to cum all over my fingers, baby.”

He muttered against your clit, lips wrapping around the bud to suck harshly. Your orgasm was rapidly approaching already, the pleasure mounting and mounting with each sudden thrust of Marc’s thick fingers, each move deliberate and practiced. You were mewling beneath him, back arched harshly as he continued his pace, dark eyes watching as your face contorted into a look of pleasure.

“That’s it, baby, can feel you squeezin’ my fingers, fuck—you gonna cum for me?”

Your climax peaked easily and you let out a long sigh as you let the waves of pleasure overcome your senses, only acutely aware of Marc’s gentle praises being muttered against your throbbing cunt as your became pliant beneath him.

Your muscles began to loosen after your sudden and intense orgasm, but the sensation didn’t last for long—Marc wasn't stopping. His tongue had replaced his fingers, thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy, his nose nudging at your clit in a move he must’ve learned from Steven, the cheeky bastard...

“Fuck, Marc, shit, I can’t—”

You couldn’t stop yourself from squirming, but he held you down securely, not allowing you to pull away from the intense stimulation he was still offering.

“Color.”

The sound was muffled, mixed in with the sinful slurping noises he was making, and your cloudy mind took a few moments to process his request, but as his fingers pressed harder into the divot of your hipbone, you threw your head back to respond. Stoplight.

“Green, Marc, but—God, fuck, s’too much, I can’t—”

“You can, and you will.”

Your eyes met his from his position buried in your mound, and the sight of his hungry eyes and the tone of his demand were enough to send you rapidly toppling over the edge yet again. The high-pitched wail that you let out was shameful, but Marc didn’t pause, watching you closely as you came apart on his tongue yet again.

As you came back down to Earth, he finally offered you a moment of reprieve, coming up for air to press a bruising kiss to your lips. The tangy taste of your arousal on his lips made your face flush hot.

“Taste so sweet for me, baby. Gonna give me another?"

You hummed, mind still foggy with bliss, but then his fingers were ghosting over your swollen clit, swiping carefully in circular motions on your tender flesh. Your head lifted to press into his shoulder, and he chuckled wickedly, increasing his pressure as you writhed beneath him.

“That’s it, baby, doin’ so well.”

He praised, hot lips pressed to your ear, and you could feel heat pool in your lower belly, red and hot and seething. Your lip was pulled between your teeth, hard enough that you could taste the metallic tinge of blood on your tongue as Marc sped up his pace. Your fingers wrapped around his arm, trying to pull him away, but his muscles flexed beneath your hold, and the overstimulation quickly made way for yet another stuttering orgasm, your cunt clenching around nothing as your teeth sank into the flesh of Marc’s shoulder, body twitching uncontrollably. You heard him hiss from the bite to his skin, but it quickly evolved into a groan as he turned his head to the side, littering your jaw with open-mouthed kisses as sweat dappled your face.

“There we go. Good girl, baby. Good girl.”

He cooed, finally pulling his hand away from your core. He lifted his slick-coated fingers and pressed them to your lips, and you absent-mindedly obeyed, sucking his digits into your mouth and lapping up the residual arousal from his knuckles. He hummed in approval, your face utterly fucked-out and eyes hazy. He pressed a soft kiss to your nose before sitting upright above you, his hands making quick work of his belt buckle as he pushed his jeans and boxers down simultaneously.

“Think you’re ready for my cock, pretty girl?”

Your legs were still quaking with aftershocks, your thighs sticky with wetness from your prior orgasms and Marc’s saliva. Still, even with exhaustion weighing heavy in your limbs, the sight of Marc’s cock standing at full height, ruddy and weeping, was enough to inspire a nod of your head.

“Want you—fuck, Marc, want you inside me, please.”

“Sound so pretty when you beg for me, baby.”

Marc crept forward on his knees, stroking his cock with practiced precision as he slid between your split legs. You felt the head of his member slide experimentally through your folds, nudging at your clit. You bristled, the heat of his hardened length jostling your shot nerves. You nearly cried at the contact, hips pressing into the mattress and away from the pressure, but then the tip notched at your entrance and you wanted nothing more for him to sink into you. Before he pressed further, though, he slipped fingers beneath your chin, turning your head to look at him. Your lip was quivering with want.

“Color?”

He rumbled, brown eyes gentle, and your ass lifted upwards, trying to force his cock further into your awaiting channel, but Marc pulled away completely, drawing a long whine of protest from your chest.

“Easy, baby. Say the word, and I’ll fuck you just how you want. But I need to hear it.”

You swallowed, fingers sinking into his curls, and your voice was hoarse when you spoke.

“Green, Marc. Fuck me, please.”

Your swollen folds made way for his thick length as it sank into you quickly, bottoming out in one swift thrust as Marc groaned throatily.

“Oh, fuck.”

He growled, eyes squeezed shut tight at the sensation of your tight walls fluttering around him. His balls pressed firmly up against your ass, and Marc reached down to grip one of your ankles, hoisting your leg high above your head so the front of your thigh was to your chest. He offered a slow roll of his hips, his cock nestling tightly into you as he snapped them forward.

“Oh, fuck, yes, baby—so fuckin’ tight.”

His pace started to build, and soon he reached for your other leg to hold it above your head, effectively folding you in half. The new angle allowed him to reach even deeper within you, the head of his cock prodding at something devastating. You were moaning shamelessly, now, incapable of forming coherent words at this point as Marc continued to pound into you, his teeth bared as his hips pistonned forward.

“Always wanted to fuck you like this, baby. Knew you’d make the prettiest noises for me, knew you’d let me do whatever I wanted to you. You gonna gimme another one, baby? Gonna cum on my cock?”

A sob ripped through you at his words, your hips thrusting upwards to meet his strokes. He had one hand wrapped around each ankle, braced over your head as he railed you into the mattress, the bedframe creaking under the strain. You felt your stomach coiling yet again, but your body was resisting, so overstrung and sensitive that your muscles felt like they were on fire. Still, Marc’s pace was relentless, and you couldn’t stave off the overwhelming need for release as you started to fall apart.

The groan that Marc offered was animalistic as your pussy clenched down on him, hard, throbbing rhythmically as you surrendered yourself to the onslaught of shockwaves that pulsed through your core. You felt faint, weightless, the crux of heat in your center exploding.

“Oh, fuck me, baby, oh my God, did you just—”

His words dissolved into a growl as he pounded into you harder, and it was only as you slowly regained your bearings that you could feel the slickness coating your thighs and Marc’s abdomen—you’d squirted all over his cock.

“Jesus, not gonna last much longer, baby, so fuckin’ good.”

His head was bowed, curls falling into his eyes as he rammed into you, balls slapping against your asscheeks with each thrust. Punched-out moans passed through your lips surreptitiously as you tried to maintain your focus, although your consciousness was slipping away.

Marc’s left hand released your leg and you felt his fingers swirl over your clit again.

“Gonna cum for you, baby, but you gotta gimme one more, first.”

You sobbed, body lurching off the bed as if you were possessed, your knee curling over his shoulder.

“Oh, fuck, Marc, I can’t, s’too much, please, just want you to—”

“Not gonna cum until you do.”

He spoke through gritted teeth, a hardened determination glinting within his crazed eyes. You drank him in—sweat dripping from his curls, nostrils flared, lips pulled up in a snarl, veins in his neck straining beneath the skin with his effort. His pace abruptly switched, his rapid thrusting replaced with a few slow, deep, and fucking bone-rattling plunges within you, the sound of his skin roughly slapping yours filling your ears. The change in tempo was too much, you were spiraling, and with a guttural cry of his name, you felt a blissful numbness erupt from within. Marc threw his head back as you clenched around him once more.

“Oh, fuck, baby, yes, yes, so fuckin’ good, God—”

You watched through half-lidded eyes as he pulled out of you hurriedly, hand reaching down to jerk his cock rapidly as he finally allowed himself to reach his release.

“Fuck, gonna cum all over you, baby, yeah, you ready? You want my cum?”

You nodded, whining greedily, your legs settling down on either side of him as you raised your hips towards him so you could feel his knuckles brush over your pubic bone with each rapid stroke of his cock. The desperation in your eyes is what hurled him over the edge.

“Fuckin’ take it, baby, I’m cummin’ for you, oh, fuck—”

His spend spilled all across your mound, spraying upwards over your stomach and some droplets even landing themselves atop your tits as he continued to jack himself off above you, deep grunts passing through his parted lips with each spurt of cum that he coaxed out. He was panting heavily, watching his white seed ooze across your skin and down his knuckles as he finally slowed the pace of his hand, squeezing one final drop of pearly liquid from the tip as he groaned, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours to catch his breath. You hummed, unable to open your tired eyes, but the intimacy of the action was welcomed as his lips just barely brushed over your own, a silent ‘thank you’ in the aftermath of an intense moment of passion.

You didn’t think it was possible to feel simultaneously weightless but so heavy at the same time, your limbs sinking into the damp sheets beneath you as you attempted to catch your breath. Marc nestled his face into the crook of your neck—an action vaguely reminiscent of Steven’s habit of nuzzling into you—and you felt him take a slow, deep inhale against your clammy skin, his warm breath fanning out along your collarbone.

You tried to stay awake when you felt his body peel itself from atop yours, but he returned moments later with a cool damp cloth to wipe away the evidence of both of your orgasms. You whined when the cold came in contact with the swollen, sensitive folds of your cunt before he moved up to wipe away his own release—Marc easily shushed you, pressing soft kisses against the skin after he wiped each spot clean. When he was finished, he haphazardly tossed the towel aside, crawling up towards you yet again.

Marc liked to be smothered. If you could take any one thing away from this moment, that’s what you saw—he laid down beside you, flat on his back, before rolling you over on top of him, your face pressed up against his pecs as your body settled between his legs. You hummed at the new position, his arms curling protectively around you, fingers of his right hand playing with your knotted hair. Your ear was pressed up against his chest and you listened to the steady rhythmic thumping of his heart, and you easily could’ve fallen asleep in an instant. Still, you wanted to enjoy the tenderness of the moment for a bit longer.

“You okay?”

Marc finally asked, and the vibrations from his throat reverberated down through his ribcage for you to feel. You breathed in long and deep, the feeling of his soft, warm skin comforting and familiar.

“’M great.”

You whispered, tilting your head slightly to look up at him. There was a small adoring smile on his abused lips, his brown eyes sweeping over your face in a way that only Marc could do—calculating, observant, as if he was looking straight through you. Sometimes, his unusual skill for reading people made you uneasy, but now, you felt completely relaxed beneath his scrutinizing gaze. It would be hard not to, when his eyes glowed as if you’d hung the stars in the sky just for him.

“…was that okay?”

Marc rephrased, and it was only then that you caught on to the insecurity he so desperately tried to mask. The crease between his brows betrayed him, making his concern for you evident. You smiled up at him reassuringly.

“Marc, it was great. You were great. You are great.”

Maybe it was the post-orgasmic bliss that had you feeling sappy, the endorphins boosting you higher into your serenity. The look on Marc’s face was heart-wrenching—the gratitude that shone in his beaming smile, the glow of his face as it lit up with pride, the—dare I say—love, in his eyes, as he gazed upon you.

A comfortable silence settled between you, and the hand that was resting against your back reached down to pull the duvet up and over the both of you, cocooning you in its warmth. You let yourself settle further into Marc’s welcoming embrace, eyes fluttering shut as you let your exhaustion take you. You quickly spoke before you found yourself dozing off.

“So…what’s your typical post-sex ritual look like after this, hm?”

You questioned, lifting your chin slightly to see his face. His eyes blinked open to look at you, and he frowned, pursing his lips.

“Believe it or not…with most of my, uh, hookups, I—uh, I have the tendency to leave in the middle of the night so I’m not there when the girl wakes up—gotta leave ’em wanting more, y’know?”

You laughed breathily at that, but hoped to hide how crestfallen his admission made you feel.

“Thanks for letting me know. I’ll try to sneak out after you fall asleep—”

His arms tightened their grip around you, and there was a sort of pleading look in his big brown eyes as he shook his head.

“No, you don’t have to do that, really, I just thought you should—”

“It’s really okay, Marc, I don’t mind.”

You assured with a shy smile, but he shook his head more firmly this time.

“No. You aren’t just a hookup, and you aren’t just some girl.”

Your lips parted in a silent gasp, eyes searching within his to try to gauge his thoughts. He seemed genuine, insistent. Your heart practically melted in your chest.

“But, I don’t—”

“Please, just stay?”

He hadn’t meant for it to come out as a question, and certainly hadn’t meant to plead—this was more vulnerability than he’d ever displayed to you before, something you’d ached to see for as long as you’d known him. For him to open up to you, to trust you, to finally let you in.

You mustered up whatever strength you had left to lift yourself up and press a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. You gazed up at him through tired eyes, face aglow from his apparent affections.

You didn’t give him a verbal response—you didn’t need to. Instead, you settled back in against him, curling your head into his shoulder, pressing your face against the warm skin at the side of his neck. Sleep came easy for both of you—Marc felt lighter having finally let his impermeable facade yield to you, even if just for a second.

Tomorrow, you intended to convince him to drop his guard completely.

POINTS OF CONTENTION: - relinquishing control - embracing uncertainty - asking for help

TREATMENT: - practice submission - express vulnerability - communicate needs

You briefly got déjà vu when Marc opened the door to his apartment for you, a familiar cheeky smirk adorning his handsome features. This time, however, your expression matched his own as you stood on your tiptoes to plant a peck on his lips, pushing past him and into the flat as if you owned the place. He was startled at your forwardness, and he would be lying if he said your surge of confidence didn’t make him slightly uneasy—what had gotten into you?

“Back for more?”

He managed to quip, quirking a brow at you as he shut the door behind him. You approached Gus’ fish tank and tapped the glass a few times to get his attention, leaning over to watch him swim around aimlessly for a few seconds—it gave Marc a perfect view of your ass through your yoga pants as you bent down, and he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared unabashedly.

“I can see your reflection in the glass, you asshole.”

You jabbed, a teasing smile lighting up your face as you met his gaze in the mirrored tank, but he didn’t stop his shameless ogling—instead, he watched you with darkened eyes, a wicked grin on his lips.

“At least I don’t have to hide the fact that I stare at your ass every time I see you, anymore.”

Your brows lifted at his confession, and you carefully straightened up, turning to face him at an agonizingly slow pace. Your hands found your hips as you studied him with an amused expression. You stood across from him in challenge.

“So you admit that you’ve checked me out? Even before this little experiment?”

Marc fought hard to keep the smirk off of his face as he crossed his arms over his chest, sizing you up carefully to gauge your seriousness. You were clearly teasing him, but he offered a subject change nonetheless in an effort to avoid the fact that he just admitted he’d been eye-fucking you since the day you’d met.

Instead, his eyes flickered down to the small black paper bag that you had set by your feet, his brow raising in question.

“I see you brought props with you, this time?”

He closed the gap between you with two large strides, bending down to snatch the shopping bag from your feet before you could protest. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he peered inside, but his eyes widened when he realized what you’d brought.

“Jesus, Y/N. You dirty, dirty girl.”

His fingers reached in to pull out a pair of black silky restraints—it didn’t go unnoticed by Marc that the receipt was in the bag and the fabric still had a tag fastened to it. You must’ve bought them just for this occasion.

The expression on his face was practically carnal as he smirked at you, but something about the look in your eyes made him hesitate. You looked up at him shyly, reaching forward to thumb at the fabric before settling your hand into his open palm atop the silk.

“They’re not for me.”

Four words, and Marc was stunned into silence. His face fell, eyes wide as they studied you, expression bemused and slightly fearful. You swore you could actually see his face drain of color.

“We don’t have to, Marc, I promise—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to just spring this on you out of the blue, I’m sure it’s not something you’d normally—well, I mean, not that I know what you’re into and everything, but I just thought it might be—”

“Slow down, baby, it’s okay. I just—took me by surprise, s’all. Wasn’t—wasn’t expecting it.”

You looked up at him thoughtfully, now hyperaware of the trepidation in his features. He avoided your eyes.

“Come on.”

You grabbed his wrist softly and guided him over to the bed, sitting down on the edge and gesturing him to follow suit. He sat down beside you and carefully turned to lay out the two black restraints on the mattress behind him. Then, he turned back to you, eyes gentle. You reached over to pull his hands into your lap.

“Marc.”

You started softly, and his eyes flitted to you nervously, an uneasy lopsided smile on his face.

“Listen to me. We really, really don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable. I know it’s—it requires a lot of trust, and—well, I don’t know.”

You fell silent, unsure of what to say or how to proceed. Marc was giving you that familiar calculating stare, taking you in and analyzing every breath you took. You grew impatient with his lack of response.

“Aren’t you gonna say anything?”

There was an apprehensive edge to your tone, your eyes round and full of worry, afraid to offend him or make him uncomfortable. You could see the gears turning in his head as he pondered.

“And this... of anything in the world you could possibly want to do with me, to me... this is the one thing you’d choose?”

You carefully nodded your head, squeezing his hands in your own.

“I think—I think this could be good for you. If—if you’re up for it, of course. No pressure.”

He hummed at your reply, before he turned to you with a small smile.

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

You blinked once, then twice, surprised at his easy response.

“Wha—really? Are you sure?”

“I trust you.”

Maybe those words were just that—words. But you couldn’t help feel your eyes grow glassy as the gravity of his admission weighed on you, your heart soaring in your chest as you smiled widely at him, eyes crinkling at the corners. The glow radiating from your face made Marc’s shoulders roll back with pride—he would do anything just to see you smile at him like that.

Apparently, that really did mean anything.

You leaned over and kissed him deeply, hand sliding to cup his face as he pulled you against him, sliding you atop his lap easily as he sucked at your bottom lip.

You settled down onto his thighs, your core easing over his hardening bulge as you pressed your front into him, your pebbling nipples brushing against his chest as you kissed him feverishly. His hands held a bruising grip on your hips as you grinded against him, feeling his hold tighten with every brush of your clothed core over his growing erection.

He hummed when you pushed on his shoulders, coaxing him to lay back against the mattress as you pulled his shirt over his head easily. You guided him towards the headboard as you continued to kiss him, settling him carefully onto the pillows in the center of the bed. You drew your head back quickly, your breath catching in your throat as you drank him in—his dark umber curls a stark contrast to the white downy pillows beneath his head, his brown eyes darkening as he watched you with half-lidded eyes, spit-soaked lips parted. You’d never seen a prettier sight—and you knew how to make it even more enticing.

Your fingers traced up his chest and danced across his shoulders. You kissed him to distract from you sneaky movements as you reached behind yourself to retrieve the pair of restraints that had been discarded earlier. You let your nails skate across his nipples, causing him to hiss, before you gently pried his hands off of your hips. You grabbed each wrist carefully, intently watching his reaction as you guided them over the top of his head and towards the headboard.

You grinded down against his cock once more in an effort to relax his body—he groaned quietly, and you reached for one of the restraints, pulling his left arm straight out to the side and carefully winding the fabric around the bedpost before reaching to fasten it around his wrist. You watched his jaw ripple as you carefully looped the silk over his skin, tightening it just slightly to prevent his hand from slipping out. You tugged at the fabric lightly, testing its resistance, before you leaned back down to peck his lips.

“That okay?”

You asked carefully, nose brushing against his, and he squeezed his eyes shut, tugging against the binding before offering you a soft nod. You smiled at him graciously before repeating the action on his right arm, successfully rendering him incapacitated beneath you, his arms spread wide on either side of his body. You allowed yourself to draw back once more, the sight of him splayed out atop the mattress, completely at your mercy, caused a wave of arousal to rush straight between your legs. He must’ve felt the clenching of your thighs from where they caged his hips in, because he let out a breathy laugh.

“You like this, don’t you?”

His voice was low and hoarse, and you kissed him again, nodding against his lips.

“Yeah, Marc, I do. So pretty for me.”

You felt the warm huff of air that he let out at your praise, and you knew he secretly loved your verbal affirmations, even if he’d never admit it to you. You offered him one last kiss before slowly dragging your face back—his head followed your backwards movement, chasing the feel of your mouth against his, but he jostled at the feeling of his movement being restricted. His eyes opened suddenly at the sensation, as if he was surprised to find the restraints actually lived up to their name. You couldn’t help the tiny grin on your lips as he accustomed himself to his limited range of movement—you could feel the tightness in his muscles, his biceps flexing and tensing as he mindlessly fought to gain control back.

“Easy—you’re okay, I’m right here.”

You soothed, running your hands up his torso as his abdominal muscles contracted beneath your fingers. There was sweat beading at his hairline, his jaw grinding rhythmically as he finally opened his eyes to look up at you, forcing himself to inhale a steady breath in an effort to calm himself down. Your fingers rubbed at the tension in his shoulders and you felt him soften under your touch, becoming pliant beneath you as he allowed himself to settle back into the mattress, finally coming to terms with his current situation. You rewarded him with a kiss, leaning yourself forward so your front was pressed to his.

“Before we start, I need you to promise me something.”

His eyes followed you when you sat back upright, and he nodded for you to continue. You breathed.

“Marc. You have to swear to me that you will use the safe word if you need to.”

He rolled his eyes in response, but you squeezed your thighs together in response, putting an uncomfortable pressure against his hips. He glared at you, but you gave him a stern look.

“I’m serious, Marc. I don’t want you to think—to not use it just because you want to make me happy, or because you wanna seem like a big tough guy. You do make me happy, and I know you’re tough, regardless of whether or not you choose to tell me to stop. Okay?”

He could hear the sincerity in your tone, the genuine concern lacing your words. He swallowed. He wasn't going to lie and say it wouldn’t be hard for him to safeword—he didn’t like admitting defeat, showing weakness or cracking under the pressure. But this wasn’t some mission or fistfight with an adversary, he reminded himself—this was you. He was safe, and he trusted you, and he was supposed to enjoy this. Finally, he nodded at you, and you mumbled out a ‘thank you’ before pulling yourself off of him completely.

He watched you like a hawk, eyes trained on you intently, analyzing your every move in anticipation. You carefully reached for his waistband, and he obliged, lifting his hips from the bed to allow you to undress him. You pulled his briefs down in the same motion, discarding Marc’s final two articles of clothing and leaving him bare before you.

His cock was at full mast, resting atop his navel as he drew in slow, deliberate breaths, trying not to feel bashful beneath your scrutinizing gaze. You were still trying to fathom the fact that you had this Adonis of a man splayed out in front of you, completely surrendering himself to you.

He really had no idea what he’d gotten himself into.

“Color?”

You asked, kneeling back on your heels from your position beside him, one hand resting on his abs, just above where the head of his cock was patiently waiting. He breathed out a chuckle.

“You haven’t even done anything yet.”

You raised a brow, and at your persistence, he offered a roll of his eyes.

“Green.”

“Good.”

You smiled, fingers sliding down from his stomach to ghost over the tender skin of his shaft, causing a shiver to crawl up his spine. You were careful to take note of just how his body reacted to each ministration—the way his breath hitched when you finally wrapped your hand around the base, the barely-audible grunt when your thumb swiped the bead of precum from his slit.

You removed your hand briefly just to spit into your palm before you were back on him, beginning a slow and gentle pace of stroking him. He hummed at the motion, his heels digging into the mattress as he threw his head back into the pillows, fingers wrapped around each restraint tightly to give himself something to grip. Your other hand reached over to fondle his balls, and his hips jerked just slightly at the added stimulation.

“S’that feel good, baby?”

You purred, your hand gradually picking up speed as your jerked him. He groaned lowly, nodding at your question.

“Shit, yeah.”

You smirked, carefully shifting so you were kneeling in between his legs, lowering yourself down to lay on your stomach. He watched you closely, bracing himself as you leant forward and suckled one of his heavy balls into your mouth, your other hand continuing its steady pace.

You hummed around his sack and he grunted, abdominal muscles flexing as you popped it out of your mouth and traded it for his other bulb, tongue swirling around the flesh and listening to his small moans of pleasure.

He was trying to stay quiet, you noticed. You didn’t press him on the issue—you knew he wouldn’t be quiet for much longer.

You pushed yourself up and licked a long stripe from base to tip, tongue flicking over his frenulum which caused his hips to quake. You offered a few kitten licks to his slit, tasting the salty precum as you continued to stroke him steadily.

“Fuck, baby—just like that.”

He whispered, eyes squeezed shut at the sensations. He was holding himself back—you wanted him to fall apart.

You carefully drew the head of his cock past your lips, bobbing your head up and down over just the tip, matching your pace to that of your hand. He growled, and your eyes flitted up to watch his biceps strain as he tugged on his bindings, desperately wanting to bury his fingers in your hair. You sank your head lower, taking him deeper, lewd choking noises escaping your lips as you swallowed him down. His hips were weakly thrusting upward, now, his feet planted into the mattress to seek leverage in a sorry effort to fuck into the heat of your mouth. You didn’t stop him—you let him cling to the sliver of control he was desperately seeking, removing your hand to sink your head down completely, allowing him to thrust his cock into the back of your throat with his shallow movements.

“Oh, fuck, baby, fuck.”

He moaned, and you could see the muscles of his stomach clenching as you reached to fondle his balls again. You were breathing in carefully through your nose as he continued to abuse your throat, his length sliding in and out of your mouth sloppily. One sharp thrust caused you to gag and he let out a deep groan from somewhere in his ribcage—you could feel his balls tightening up, thighs flexing.

“Yes, baby, gonna cum in that pretty little mouth, yes—”

You sat up abruptly with a gasp, pulling your body from his completely as his limbs involuntarily jerked beneath you, his back arching at the sudden loss of contact. He yelped, and you could see veins bulging in his arms as he harshly pulled against the restraints.

“Jesus fuck!”

He cried out, hips falling back down into the mattress, defeated. You sat silently, watching as he tried to catch his breath. He blinked the bleariness from his eyes to fix his stare on you—there was a somewhat sadistic shine in your gaze as you met his eyes challengingly. When you didn’t back down, you were surprised when he let out a bark of a laugh.

“So this is your game, sweetheart? You gonna edge me? Really?”

He was trying to intimidate you—you could see right through him. He was mocking you, hoping to berate you into submission, into backing down. It wouldn’t work.

When you didn’t respond, he shook his head lightly, feigning composure as he lazily closed his eyes.

“Go on—have your fun.”

He offered, a small smile on his lips. You felt anger briefly flare up inside you, but you quelled it down with logic—you were in control, right now. You had all the power.

It didn’t matter how disciplined Marc’s psyche was—his body betrayed him. It told the truth. Your hand reached back up towards his shaft, and his cock jumped beneath your touch, thighs tensing just slightly. You bit your lip to prevent yourself from giggling with satisfaction—Marc’s face was set into a look of quiet concentration, lips pulled into a straight line.

You started again, the same way you had before, with your spit-soaked hand slowly escalating until your lips joined in. His noises were subdued—they came from deep within his chest, escaping through barely parted lips only when he was powerless to stop them. He writhed beneath you, responsive to your touch, and when the telltale signs of his approaching orgasm began revealing themselves again, you ceased your movement.

“FUCK!”

He yelled, back arching off the bed as he attempted to curl into a sitting position, but he was snapped back into complacency by the fabric bound to his wrists. There were veins bulging in his neck as he seethed, sweat beginning to bead along his hairline. You blinked up at him innocently as he glared at you, eyes dark and filled with disdain.

“So fuckin’ pleased with yourself, huh, baby? This what you wanted? To rile me up? God, if I wasn’t tied up right now, I’d—”

“You’d what?”

He blinked at your interruption, your voice showcasing your defiance.

“What’re you gonna do, Marc? Nothing. You’re not gonna do anything. You’re gonna sit back, and fucking take it, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

His jaw clenched down tightly, his face practically trembling with rage. His nostrils flared as he stared at you, trying to win the silent battle between you, in complete denial of the fact that you were completely in control. He wasn’t backing down, unwilling to admit that he was powerless—so you reached forward and scratched your nails down the length of his shaft. He shouted in protest, hips jolting backwards to retreat from the uncomfortable sensation, and he growled lowly in his throat before sagging back into the mattress—his eyes were still on you, but his lips were sealed shut.

“That’s what I thought.”

You antagonized, leaning down to take his cock back into your mouth. It was taking increasingly smaller increments of time to get him to the edge, and you continued—once, then twice more. On the third round, he’d nearly lost it, but you squeezed around the base of his cock tightly to force the orgasm to dissipate as it peaked.

“You fuckin’ bitch.”

He snapped, and the words seemed to surprise him just as much as they surprised you. A heat of the moment utterance, offered in a second of desperation—but he didn’t take it back. Maybe you should feel hurt—instead, you felt pride swell inside you as you stared down at him wickedly.

“Such mean words from a guy who can’t even see me through his tears.”

It was true—there were tears streaming down either side of his face, eyes red and puffy as he fought viciously against your torture. He shook his head at you, overwhelmed with anger, but he couldn’t hold back the sob that practically pulled itself from his lungs when you gave a single lick up his shaft.

“Oh, fuck you, fuck—”

“You can cum whenever you want, Marc. I’m not stopping you.”

You tone was even and steady, expression blank as you studied him. His brows furrowed, his eyes suspicious as his breathing slowed again. You smiled coyly at him, innocently, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips—he didn’t kiss you back. He just watched you as you carefully resumed your position between his legs, waiting to hear your stipulation.

“You just have to beg for it.”

Marc’s venomous laugh was replaced with a long whine as you took his cock in your hands once more, stroking him a few times before simply holding him there. He sneered at you.

“I don’t beg.”

“Then you don’t cum.”

You shrugged easily, releasing his throbbing member from your grasp and allowing it to drop back down against his stomach. You could see every muscle in his body fighting for release—his heels digging into the mattress, his arms continuously straining against their restraints. You tutted at him condescendingly, your eyes mocking sympathy as you stood from the bed. He studied you carefully as you began to remove your clothes until your were completely naked. You rejoined him on the bed, loving the way his eyes turned ravenous as he admired your body.

“If you wanna torture yourself, Marc, that’s your choice.”

You purred, crawling up until you were straddling him. You watched the way his breath hitched when you were hovering over his cock, and you felt it jump beneath your cunt—but instead of dropping down, you crept further upwards until you were straddling his ribcage. He looked at you, confused.

“So what are you gonna do?”

His voice was gravelly and hoarse, raw from the moans you had been pulling from him. You leaned down and shoved your tongue into his mouth—he whimpered at the intimacy, but you pulled away soon after.

“I’m gonna ride your face, and you’re gonna be a good boy and make me cum on your tongue.”

The whine that he let out was carnal—you’d never heard anything like it in your life, and Marc might’ve been embarrassed if it weren’t for the painful arousal that was burning a hole through the bottom of his stomach. He tilted his head back as you began to position yourself over him, lips already parting in anticipation of tasting you, but you paused, your eyes turning gentle. Your hand reached down to stroke through his damp hair, and he pressed his head into your touch.

“Color?”

You whispered, and you watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat at he swallowed. He breathed in once, then twice, before meeting your eyes again.

“Green.”

You settled your knees on either side of his head, your folds already soaking from your time toying with Marc—you shuddered at the feeling of his warm breath on your awaiting cunt, and with trembling thighs, you slowly and carefully lowered yourself onto his mouth.

You lurched forward at his eagerness, his tongue immediately breaching your entrance and slurping up the arousal that was flooding your pussy. You yelped in surprise, arms reaching forward to grip the headboard as you tried to keep most of your weight off of him, allowing your face to just barely skate over his features.

He mumbled something into your core, and you lifted yourself from him in concern, worried that you'd hurt him.

“What?”

You asked for clarification, brows furrowed, but when you met his eyes from between your legs, they were dark and gleaming savagely.

“I said, sit the fuck down.”

He growled again, and you could feel the headboard bend as he strained against the fabric on his wrists, obviously wanting to grab your waist and pull you down onto his mouth with full force. You let out a breathy laugh before you eased your way back onto him, allowing yourself to relax more against his face. The thick muscle of his tongue immediately began fucking into you and it wasn’t long before you were grinding against his face, his nose rubbing up against your bundle of nerves and his mouth savoring your juices. Your head was thrown back in ecstasy, and Marc watched you from his position between your legs as you came apart on his tongue, quiet cries of his name leaving your lips as your rode out your high on his mouth.

Marc greedily lapped up all you had to offer, and he almost whined in disapproval when you began picking yourself up off of him—but then you were turning around, and he got a perfect view of your perfect ass as you slowly settled your cunt back down to his mouth and—

Fuck. He nearly cried into your pussy when he felt your lips attach themselves to his cock, and he jostled against you, hips jolting upwards of their own volition. He squeezed his eyes shut and tipped his head back, trying to fight the orgasm that he was already teetering on the edge of. You hand came up and squeezed tightly around the base of his cock, helping stave off his climax.

“I didn’t tell you to stop.”

You hissed, and Marc gulped before diving straight back into you cunt, his lips wrapping around your puffy clit as he suckled it into his mouth and flicked over it with his tongue. You moaned, you fingers beginning to stroke his cock again. When you turned your attention back to his length, however, his mouth immediately stopped its movement. You sank against him, rolling your eyes in theatrical annoyance.

“Jesus, you really can’t multitask, can you?”

“Y/N.”

He spoke your name lowly and with a warning edge, and you craned your neck to look at him—his head was peaking out from behind your asscheek, eyes desperately searching yours. You could see he was struggling to maintain his composure, but he kept his voice level and steady.

“I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop.”

He voice cracked at the very end of his statement, but you appreciated his honesty with you. You swiftly removed your hand from where it was wrapped around him and he let out a long sigh, steeling himself before attaching himself to your clit once more.

Your second orgasm came easily, creeping up and washing over you without warning as Marc continued to lavish your clit with his tongue, the obscene noises he was making only adding to your arousal. He slowed his movements as you came down from your high, lapping at your release as you slowly pulled you cunt away from his mouth. You pulled yourself off of him completely, kneeling at his side and pressing a sweet, gentle kiss against his lips. His face was coated in your slick and his eyes were alight with a sort of lovesickness, as if he’d completely forgotten the torture you’d been putting him through simply because he got to watch you fall apart on his tongue. You pressed your forehead against his for a moment before you swung your leg over his hip, finally settling yourself where he needed you most.

Anticipation flickered in his dark brown eyes, his body tensing beneath you as you reached between your legs to stroke his cock, using your dripping arousal as lube to give him a few tentative strokes. He hissed, his hips jumping at the touch, but he immediately froze when you pressed the head into your entrance. He held his breath.

“I’m gonna ride you now, okay?”

You asked, although it was less of a question and more of a statement. He nodded vigorously, eyes squeezed shut and head turned to the side as he braced himself for the feeling of your hot channel swallowing him whole.

“Marc.”

You probed softly, and he winked one eye open, looking up at you where you were paused, right in the moment before sheer bliss. You eyed him warily.

“Color?”

He smiled softly up at you, more relaxed than he’d been this whole interaction—finally, finally relinquishing his control and allowing you to take the reins.

“Green.”

The duet of moans that filled the room was intoxicating as you slowly eased yourself down onto his rock-hard length, the stretch offering a sting that was just painful enough to be pleasurable. Marc’s head was thrown back into the pillows as he began to ramble incomprehensibly.

“Oh, God, oh, fuck yes, so fuckin’ good, fuck—”

You braced yourself by planting your arms against his sturdy chest, raising up your hips until just the tip remained before slamming yourself back down, burying him to the hilt within you. A wrecked sob sounded from his mouth.

“Oh, fuck, God, I can’t—”

You settled into a steady pace, angling your hips backwards just slightly so his cock rutted up against that place deep inside you that sent you reeling. You keened, grinding back and forth against him as he moaned wantonly, knuckles turning white as he pulled on the restraints with every ounce of his strength. You orgasm was rapidly approaching, and with each careful plunge of his cock into you, you felt the coil tightening.

“Fuck, Marc, gonna cum on your cock, baby.”

You whimpered, throwing your head back as your walls clenched down around him. You must’ve blacked out for a moment, your vision going bright white as pleasure speared through you—when you regained your bearings and sensation over your limbs, your ears were blessed with a sound you weren’t sure you’d get to hear.

Marc was falling apart.

“Please, oh, God, Y/N, baby, please let me cum for you, I can’t—can’t hold it anymore, please, please, please, baby, please let me cum, pleasepleasepleaseplease—”

There were sobs ripping themselves from his lips as tears flooded his eyes and streamed down his cheeks, the muscles of his abdomen clenched so tightly you thought he might sprain something. The fluttering of your tight walls against him was unbearable, truly torturous—he couldn’t do it anymore.

His eyes blinked open to watch you as your hands crept up the length of his strained arms, fingers deftly untying the knots that held him hostage to the bed. His arms fell limp at his sides when released from their hold, and he looked up at you with wide eyes, glassy with tears.

You pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Been so good for me, baby. Go ahead and take what you want, Marc, it’s yours. Cum for me.”

Something snapped inside of him. A vein throbbed in his forehead as his hands flew to your hips, planting you firmly against him as he began to thrust up into you at a rapid pace, his hips slamming against your thighs loudly and roughly. You yelped in surprise at his sudden burst of energy, and he was staring intently at the place where his cock was splitting you open, hips relentlessly pistonning upwards into you as he slammed your body down against him to meet each thrust.

You didn’t expect to cum again, but the harsh drag of his cock inside of you as his hands grounded you firmly sent you hurling across the edge, your cunt clamping down on his aching length as you pulled him across the threshold with you.

“Oh fuck, yes, yes, gonna fill you up, baby, cummin’ so hard, fuuuck—”

Each harsh pump upwards was punctuated with a grunt as he spilled inside of you, his cock pumping you full of his white hot seed as he continued pounding into you relentlessly. Even as you came down from the climax that had blindsided you, and even after he’d completely emptied himself inside of your slick walls, he continued rutting up into you, his face contorted in a look of pain and determination as he gritted his teeth.

“Woah, Marc, hey, hey, slow down—”

You urged, reached to wrap your fingers around his wrists from where they were still firmly attached to your waist, the wet sounds of his cock still pumping in and out of you filling the room. His eyes finally looked up to you, the haziness clearing as your worried face settled on him.

“It’s okay, Marc, you’re okay.”

You assured, and he finally let your full weight rest down onto him, his body slowly rolling to a halt as the aftershocks of his intense pleasure pulsed through his limbs, blood pumping loudly in his ears. He was breathing heavily, his heart beating against his ribcage harshly, but his eyes watched you as you smiled down at him, reaching forward to cup his jaw in one hand as the other ran through his sweaty hair.

“There we go. There you are. There’s my handsome boy.”

All at once, he collapsed into a fit of sobs again, sitting up to pull you against his chest impossibly tight as he wrapped his arms around you. You felt your heart break as you coddled him, one hand stroking the back of his head and the other rubbing soothing patterns into the bare skin of his back. Years and years of internalized vulnerability spilled out of him in your embrace, and you held him there until his stuttering cries turned into shaky exhales, his face buried in the crook of his neck. He fell back into the pillows, pulling you down on top of him and keeping you snugly pulled against his body.

His cock was still nestled deep inside of you, and you could feel Marc’s cum leaking out and creating a stickiness between your thighs and atop his hips. When you shifted to move, he tightened his hold, his breath wavering just slightly.

“Please, don’t. Just—stay with me. Like this. For just awhile longer. Please.”

He whispered against your temple, begging for this brief moment of reprieve, of absolution, of solace. You sank into his chest, breathing in his heady scent and allowing yourself to indulge in the intimacy of this moment, too—a moment of comfort, of safety, of resolve.

Marc had one final thought before sleep overtook him.

Is this what being okay feels like?

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[ddejavvu]

hiii, hope you’re having a good day! Could you do a request with animagus reader and marauders just being out and r is in Sirius’ bag or smth and a dog spooks her and she ends up running away panicked and they just start to run after her. tysm!

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11

--

"Let me make absolutely sure that I am understanding you boys correctly." The stern tone of Professor Mcgonagall's voice never fails to chill the blood of those who hear it, but James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin are quite accustomed to the chill by now.

"You tore through the school's vegetable garden," She begins, "Then you trampled the roses. Then you tracked mud from those trampled roses through the Great Hall, interrupting a session of O.W.L.s that non-participating students were given plenty of warning not to disturb."

"Professor-" James starts, but Minerva snaps her gaze sternly to him.

"I am not finished, Mr. Potter, and you will not speak until I am."

He has the good sense to nod instead of giving a verbal response.

"Then. You went on a mad goose chase around the castle, that included not only breaking into faculty-only spaces, destroying art hung on these walls longer ago than you've been alive, but jumping from moving staircase to moving staircase?"

"I didn't mean to smash through that painting," Sirius offers earnestly, but when she whirls towards him, he's almost worried she'll strike him.

He knows she won't; she's like the mother he's never had, not the one that he does have.

"Fine! Fine, since you seem so eager to speak, tell me now: Why? Why was any of this necessary? Why did the three of you suddenly lose all sense?"

Sirius is rather surprised she hasn't yet noticed the lump beneath his sweater, but he's more than happy to tug at the neckline of the knitwear, "I was running after my cat, professor."

You know you'll be the only one to save them now, and you try appearing as endearing as possible as you stick your head out from Sirius's sweater, your furry ears brushing at his chin as you mewl plaintively at Professor Mcgonagall.

She blinks.

It's all she can do, because the boys in front of her are a permanent headache, and she asks, voice dangerously calm, "Why was your cat running, Mister Black?"

"She had a run-in with a wild dog," Remus explains, because if Sirius was left up to the task, he'd probably use adjectives like 'misunderstood' and 'unwillingly aggressive'. "She was tucked into Sirius's bag while we took a walk over the grounds. She likes to get out, but Sirius keeps her in his bag to be sure she's safe. But the dog must have smelled her, and he came out of the forest to charge for her. She startled and ran, and I can't say I blame her, Professor. Sirius was just worried for her, that's all. We would have really liked to avoid the chase as well."

A tense silence falls, and four pairs of eyes watch as Minerva Mcgonagall pinches the bridge of her nose between her fingers and sighs. She neglects to tell Remus that it doesn't matter whether he'd have liked to avoid the chase or not; there's a hundred fifteen-year-olds mourning the loss of their exam time.

When it's unclear what her position is on your morning escapade, you slip out of the bottom of Sirius's sweater, and pad over to sit at her feet. Sirius draws in a breath, keeps it locked tightly in his lungs as you meow up at her, and when you have her attention, your tail flicks idly behind you.

"I don't like dogs either," She laments in a voice far too exhausted for ten in the morning, "Mister Black, if you or your friends ever treat this castle like a jungle gym again, I will make you scrub out the cracks in the stone dungeon walls with a toothbrush."

He tries not to grin, because his luck is far too strained, but he nods eagerly, "Yes ma'am. Thank you, Professor."

"Do not thank me," She glares warningly at him, "I am still tempted to feed you to wild dogs."

The boys stand, nodding at their professor as they file out of her office, but when Sirius calls you with open arms, she peers over her nose at him.

"Leave the cat," She instructs, and at his curious head tilt, she adds, "I had to listen to Mr. Filch tell me all about your antics this morning. At the moment I deserve better company."

[kittybroker]

Intro post!

I'll reblog cat pictures and value the kitty.

Now I'm sure you're all saying kitties are all valuable, and while that's true one cannot simply dismiss the importance of proper accounting in today's economy.

If you want to submit a picture of a cat you can use either the ask function or send in a post submission and value it yourself. Feel free to tag me into any kitty post you want.

Please make sure to read the FAQ below before sending in any questions.

While I am mostly a joke blog, please be wary when sending overly personal/strange asks, particularly when I do not know who you are. Absolutely do not ship this blog with other blogs, and particularly do not make comments to me about this.

Tagging system: I'll tag all the cats here with #crazy kitty The pricing of kitties is set into one of five categories:

#free bin - $0 kitties #bargain bin - Under $5 #discount kitty - Under $20 #valuable kitty - Under $50 #premium kitty - Anything over $50

#alt currency is used for any kitty not using kitty dollars.

Note that kitties from before 27/01/24 may not include the #bargain bin or #premium kitty tag as those tags were introduced after the blogs creation.

#set deal - For pairs kitties sold together #collection - For collections of different kitties in a collection

#silly kitty - For memes and humorous kitties #art - For drawings of kitties or kitties with art attached #fake kitty - For kitties that aren't really actually kitties at all

#text post - For posts that aren't actually evaluations #asks - Posts that are sent via ask #tagged - Posts sent via tagging #in the replies - Tags from the replies of a post #kitty music - For self-promotional music posts or music performed by kitties (meowsynth)

I'll probably post my own cat a bit here as well and tag that with #my cat.

Submission: You can submit kitties by tagging me in posts or sending asks (when the inbox is open). I will not always get around to tags as sometimes there is too many to get to or I have already evaluated the post. I prefer people tag me into a post over DMing, and will not evaluate a kitty sent in DMs. I would also ask you to not send too many asks or tags in a row simply to avoid too many posts being sent in at a time and allowing others to send stuff in. If you are unsure on how to tag me please refer to the FAQ, do not message me asking how to tag me into posts.

Rules for submission: Please no real people or anthropomorphized cats. Anything that is pretty much just human is a big no go zone for evaluation (particularly evaluating real people). As long as it's clearly an animal I don't really care. Do not tag me into more than 2-3 posts at a time.

FAQ

Why hasn't my ask been answered? I get a lot of asks, and I can't answer everything. It usually takes a few days to a week to get around to answering an ask. Sometimes the ask may also contain a submission that cannot be posted, ie you submitted a real person, a cat in the harmful situation or with wounds. For text based asks I cannot get to everything and am frequently inundated with comments. Not all will get a response. If you ask a question answered in the FAQ I will not answer.

How do you evaluate the kitties? The economy guides my hand, I merely see the truth of what is already there.

I tagged you into a post, but you never responded? I get a lot of tags, and often a lot of the same post. I will try to avoid responding to the same post multiple times (sometimes I forget!). Sometimes I just have so many tagged posts to get to I have to cut some out. I do see every tagged post though so you're post will still be seen, even if not answered.

What is the most valuable kitty ever? Our current estimates would put Intergalactic Shiro, now at an impressive 720000000000

What currency are the kitties evaluated in? They are all in Kitty Dollars. I've never heard of this "USD" or "Euro" stuff. None of it is real.

I want to tag you in a post, but I don't know how? To tag me into a post you will need to reblog the post and add the tag into the text field of the post (no the tags!). If you type @kittybroker you should see this blog appear in a dropdown menu. Select kittybroker and then reblogging the post. You can also tag me into the replies of posts by opening the notes, heading to the replies section and tagging me there with the same method.

Can I submit myself? Many before have attempted this perilous feat. Yet I remain strong. No real people will be evaluated!

Kittybroker, you reblogged a bad post! Sometimes I reblog posts that I should by mistake. Please notify me if this is the case, ie. the cat is in danger, the video is not safe or harmful. I do my best to try educate myself on what the best, but I still miss stuff. THIS DOES NOT APPLY TO FANDOM DRAMA/PROBLEMATIC USERS. DO NOT MESSAGE ME ABOUT THIS.

Kittybroker, I want to support you but I hate capitalism! Good news for you! The best way you can support me is to check out the #kitty music tag! I write a fair bit of music and you can find it at my old soundcloud, or you can find my recent piano sheet music here! Completely free! I really appreciate any support with my music work outside of kittybroker and sharing or listening to my stuff helps a lot!

Do you have a cat? I do, although I rarely post it out of both privacy concerns and the sheer number of other kitties sent in. The rare occasion I do however they will all be tagged. His name is Boris and he is around nine years old. He is very crazy.

That is all for now! Remember to stay crazy and kitty!

[stolitzsings]

This is a sort of response to a post I've seen floating around, drawing parallels between the chains in Blitz’s trip that bind him to Stolas and the chains that bind Husk, Angel, and Fizz to Alastor, Valentino, and Mammon respectively. I'm not commenting on that post directly bc I avoid Discourse (tm) at all costs for the sake of my health, and I don’t want to get drawn into an unproductive argument that will mess with my anxiety for a week. I'm not trying to start a fight, just get my thoughts out on why I feel that comparison is inaccurate, and hopefully provide some helpful context and nuance.

So! Let's start with a few disclaimers! First of all, I'm not going to debate the moral purity of any of these characters. I just don't think it's an interesting or valuable critique. On a related note, I am not trying to excuse any of their behavior. I'm happy to admit that my favorite characters in this show have hurt people and are sometimes total assholes. Stolas treated Blitz very poorly at the beginning of their relationship, frequently pushed or even ignored boundaries, and was just kind of a dick about things. My objection to a direct comparison between Stolas and the other characters mentioned above isn't because I think Stolas hasn't done anything wrong; I just think that saying they're similar without further clarification or commentary ignores the nuance of the situation.

Read on below the cut, it's gonna be another long one folks!

Let's start by examining the "agreements" forged by Val, Mammon, and Alastor. I think it's important to note that, in their cases, the person they got to sign their contract could have been anyone. Husk and Angel could have been any sinners, Fizz could have been any imp. They aren't interested in them as people; they were only using them to gain more power for themselves. The only thing that matters to them is, "What can you do for me?" Angel and Fizz quite clearly become cogs in the machine of Val and Mammon's businesses, and Alastor only thinks of Husk as a tool to be leveraged in specific situations to further his own mysterious goals. Each of them has demonstrated to their subjugates that they own them, body and soul. They have signed legally and spiritually binding contracts that essentially surrender their autonomy to a more powerful demon.

Stolas and Blitz’s agreement is... not that. In the most literal sense, they don’t appear to have made any sort of binding deal. They just made a verbal agreement, which I sincerely doubt has anywhere near the force of a signed soul contract. Additionally, Stolas did not ask for and does not seem to want that sort of total control over Blitz. He very clearly does not view this as any sort of power exchange (which may actually be part of the issue, since it leaves him blind to Blitz’s discomfort with their class difference), he sees it as "favors for favors." While this agreement is inherently unbalanced due to Stolas's status, it's worth noting that they’re both putting something on the line here. The other three risk practically nothing (if the person bound to them fails they can always get a new one), but Stolas IS taking on a real risk by letting Blitz access the living world illegally using his book. Again, that doesn't make his actions right, and probably helped him to justify them, but it does set their relationship apart from the others.

In my opinion, some of Stolas's greatest flaws are his thoughtlessness and his ability to justify his own actions to himself. This manifests in the fact that he clearly doesn't see the ways in which their relationship is hurting Blitz. He convinced himself that this was just an equal exchange, and a continuation of the dynamic Blitz established in their first encounter as adults: "I fuck you, and you give me the book". As he becomes more aware of his feelings for Blitz, though (stay tuned for a deeper analysis of this progression later), he also begins to realize that Blitz isn't happy with this relationship. And this, as @masonshmason pointed out, is the central fact that separates Stolas and Blitz from the other relationships. Stolas did not realize- or chose to ignore- how he was hurting Blitz. Once he came to terms with it, though, he understood that he had to make things right. He specifically says this in "Just Look My Way"; "I will try to make amends/ For making you means to an end". None of the others could say this, because in their case, that was the POINT. Angel, Fizz, and Husk were ALWAYS a means to an end, intentionally trapped for that purpose.

We also need to talk about the CONTEXT of the scenes in which the chain imagery appears. For both Angel and Husk, the chain is at least semi-literal, a physical (and perhaps supernatural) manifestation of the way their souls are bound to an overlord. In "Two Minutes Notice," Fizz purposely CHOOSES to represent his relationship to Mammon as chains around his wrists. However, Blitz's scene is part of a drug trip after being forcibly dosed with hallucinogens. It does not exist in any literal sense, nor is it a representation of Blitz’s conscious, literal thoughts. What it DOES do is showcase Blitz’s deepest fears and his greatest flaws through symbolism and metaphor. Blitz is not literally afraid of being forced to wear a clown costume; he is afraid he'll never escape his past traumas or Fizz's shadow. THIS is the context in which Blitz sees himself being chained by Stolas: a bad trip all about his fear of intimacy and vulnerability.

Stolas appears in this trip as someone elevated high above him, something he's climbing towards, reaching for, even though it means being chained to him. It's directly preceded by his ex girlfriend and his former best friend berating him for how he pushes people away even though he hates being alone. Then Stolas directly asks him, "Are you afraid to love people, Blitzy?" Furthermore, the WAY in which he is framed is alluring, slightly hazy, golden and tempting. It couldn’t be further from the ugly, slime-covered past he's fleeing. It's a new start, a chance for something better that seems too good to be true. This trip is all about Blitz’s inability to be vulnerable with another person. The chain around his neck is a representation of the fact that, by getting closer to Stolas, he's giving Stolas the power to hurt him emotionally.

And man, there's a part of him that wants to give Stolas that power. At this critical moment, he's not baring his teeth in defiance or anger. He's blushing, just slightly, and he looks... nervous. Blitz's instinct, when things get too real, is to cut and run. Hurt them before they can hurt you. Abandon them before they have the chance to leave you. It’s how he tanked his relationship with Verosika. This is a manifestation of what might happen if he stays. This is the sort of trouble he can't fight his way out of.

This is the emotional climax of the scene. There are so many ways they could have gone with this if they wanted to represent Blitz being chained and trapped by his agreement with Stolas. If that was the fear--if that was the POINT--they could have had the chains wrap around him until he couldn't move, or glow white hot and burn into his skin, or a million other more direct metaphors. But the chains aren't the thing that hurts him. It's the feathers: the thing that's left behind after Stolas abandons him, sing-songing "you're going to die alone" right alongside two other people who he loved and who now want nothing to do with him.

Finally, let's look at Blitz’s reaction to this scene. It's a moment of revelation for him, in which he realizes he's pushing everyone away and starts to make an effort to change. It's why he's a bit more open with Moxxie in the next scene. The trip sequence ALSO inspires him to get closer to Stolas, indicating that the trip didn’t make him realize "I'm trapped and I need to get out of this" in the same way Fizz did. Rather, he realizes that he doesn't want Stolas to leave him like everyone else, and he wants to start feeling out what it would be like to deepen the connection between them. As I've mentioned in other posts, their kiss at the end of "truth seekers" represents a level of intimacy that we haven't seen before; it's teasing, affectionate, shows Blitz’s interest in making Stolas happy, and takes place in front of M&M, who have repeatedly teased him about their relationship before.

In summary, while the image of chains may have been invoked in all four of these relationships, they don’t necessarily mean the same thing across the board. Blitz and Stolas's relationship differs substantially from the others in its dynamic, and the context of their scene also sets it apart. It's important to look into the details and the nuance of their relationship to interpret what's going on under layers of trauma and unreliable narration.