#blah blah blah you get the drift

[tinylilvalery]

save me horrible-disgusting-abhorrent-piece of shit-toxic-dark ship that serves to soothe and titillate me by exploring shadow traits in a way that doesn't harm myself/anyone and is instead fascinating to see explored by being split up into two parties that are often antagonist to each other and have to become balanced through harmony, destruction, or death. horrible-disgusting-abhorrent-piece of shit-toxic-dark ship save me.

[goldeunoias]

Favorite Student.

WARNINGS: YES THIS IS PROFESSOR AND STUDENT FUCKING IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT DON'T READ IT. both of yall are adults i think like 22 and 28 or something like that so it's not like the worst of the worst but yes. there are power dynamics blah blah, sunghoon is massive pervert, ITS ALL FICTION YALL

um includes....perverted sunghoon, eating out, teasing, pet names, sex in an office, fingering, it's me so ya know

Synopsis: A class you'd hated, but a professor you'd always admired...

A/N: DAISY BACKKKKK

SUNGHOON STANS ARE THE BESTTTTT at writing and giving me anons and feedback and comments and reblogs which is why I will always spoil them bc they treat me the best <333. next fic is a heeseung one sooo if you want more heeseung content make sure to give that one as much love too when it comes out!

_________________________________________

He was the meanest professor around, bar none.

But in your current predicament, he was the only professor left for the class you needed to take, unless you wanted to wait and thus delay your graduation by a whole semester.

That's how you found yourself standing outside his office, swinging back and forth on your heels, trying to get the courage to go in and ask him for help on the chapter that seemed like no one in your class was getting, you included.

"What are you doing standing outside my office?"

At the sound of his voice you jumped and turned around, heart racing in your ears as you tried to give him some eye contact; ultimately failing miserably.

"U-Um, I needed help with chapter 14 in the textbook and no one in my section really got it either so I figured I'd stop by-"

"Did you look at the lecture notes?"

"Y-yes sir."

"The supplemental videos?"

You nodded again.

Dr. Park sighed and moved past you to unlock his office door, letting the door swing shut past you as you walked in. The vibes of his room was austere to say the least and you couldn't tell if anyone had ever sat in the chair across from him given how spotless and un-creased it was.

Well, first time for everything.

"So what are you needing help with? Do you have any notes or something?"

"U-uh yes sir, give me a sec," you stuttered out as you fidgeted with your bag to pull out your laptop, showing him all that you had done.

He leaned on his side of the thick oak desk so he could get a closer look at what you had done, the closer proximity causing cologne you could only surmise to be expensive filling your nose. You fidgeted in your seat and moved some to lower your skirt as it rode up, trying to think of something to fill the awkward silence as he scrolled through what you had done.

Luckily, he beat you to it.

"Well, it's not the worst thing I've seen." He sighed, taking off his glasses and pointing to your screen. "You still aren't understanding the basic concepts of this chapter yet and it's reflecting in your notes. You see this summary outline you wrote here is-"

Your eyes absentmindedly drifted to his alabaster forearms that were shown from the rolled up sleeves of his button up, thick large hands scrolling on your keyboard. His jaw and nose were sharp too and from the closeness you could make out his dark lashes, usually hidden by the thick framed glasses he wore.....

You were jolted out of your thoughts when he snapped his fingers in front of your face, eyebrows knitted in annoyance at you wasting his time by daydreaming.

"If you're going to come to my office I would think you'd listen to what I have to say," Sunghoon said through a clucked tongue.

You looked down and immediately apologized profusely, feeling tears well in your eyes. You weren't the best with scolding you never had been, but to have someone who was already not in the best of moods have it become worse because of you only made you more sensitive.

He looked at you from across the desk, a grown girl with mannerisms like that of a meek fawn.

A prey.

You swallowed thickly as he stood up and leaned over the desk, strands of mahogany hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at you.

"Hey hey, don't cry, we'll work through it together mmkay? You're a smart girl aren't you?"

It was a voice you'd never heard him use on anyone, and it made the hairs on your neck stand up and your legs squirm as he held your chin.

"I'm sorry it's just this is one of my final classes I need to graduate and everything is hard and I don't want to waste your time-"

"Aw, princess don't stress, don't stress," he cooed. The sweet and gentle tone of his voice was causing you to melt into his touch, wondering how someone who usually only spoke in stern curt sentences could produce such sounds.

You couldn't stop bouncing your legs and squirming in your seat as his fingertips stroked the underside of your chin softly, making soft shushes and coos at you to calm your nerves.

Fuck, he wanted to ruin you.

But he had to wait for you to make the move. He was in the precarious position and even though he could see in your gaze that you were begging for it, you were going to have to show him.

A little teasing should do the trick.

"Here, we have some time before the next test don't we? Start coming by my office everyday and we can work through this unit together so you won't have to worry alright" he offered up, sitting back down in his office chair with a soft smile on his face.

You sniffled and nodded at the premise before rushing out a plethora of "thank you"s to him, unable to stop the tingling on your chin from where he had touched you as he left........

_________________________________

"Here sweetheart move your chair over to my side of the desk so you can get a better look at my screen," he offered up, moving his chair over some to make some room.

"O-okay sure," you agreed, the name "sweetheart" ringing throughout your head. Had he always used that nickname for you? Or was he just using it as a coverup for forgetting your name? Whatever the reason, your mind was spinning in circles at the gentle way he said it.

“Cmon, you can come a little closer than that, I don’t bite ya know”, he hummed, pulling your chair closer to his. You nodded because you didn’t trust your voice and your mind couldn’t stop wandering to how large his hands looked as he pointed out errors in the extra assignments he’d given you, talking you softly through each one.

"Does that make sense?" he inquired gently, placing his head on your thigh and squeezing it. The contact made you jolt in your skin and you gulped before profusely nodding, truly able to grasp just how large his hands were as they sat on your plush thigh.

"Good girl, see you had no reason to be so worried, your work is been improving exponentially".

"T-thank you sir. I have to go to my next class now...." you trailed off awkwardly, fidgeting in your seat.

He smiled and stood up, waiting for you to do the same before escorting you to his door.

"Of course. Same time tomorrow?"

"Mhmm," you hummed, scurrying out of his office. You made a b-line to the bathroom to splash some cold water on your face, wondering if there was anything that gave away just how flustered you truly were in his proximity.

How can someone be so cute? Sunghoon hummed to himself as he sat at his desk, fiddling with his pen. His own hand still buzzed with excitement at how soft and warm your thigh was, and his mind couldn't help but trail further down a rabbit hole.

For the next month it seemed Sunghoon had only gotten friendlier and friendlier: you found out that he had a dog which he adored and would bring to the office if he was allowed to, that he had a younger sister, used to compete in sports (which you could attribute to his frame), and really liked fashion.

All the while, Sungoon used every opportunity to get you used to his touch; the stroking of your ear during one session, the soft touch of your shoulder the next. Every time you'd jolt before absentmindedly melting into it, and before you knew it you find yourself craving his touch.

You didn't dare your friends or anyone around you of your extra tutoring sessions, or that his hands were somehow find themself on yours. Surely you should be disgusted at yourself instead of electrified by the touches he leaves on you right?

But those thoughts would always disappear every time you walked into his office.

"So sorry I'm late!" you rushed out as you stepped into his office, panting from having sprinted up the stairs to get here.

Sunghoon looked up from the papers at his desk and smiled, flickering his head to come sit down.

"It's okay sweetheart don't worry," he hummed, trying to pull his eyes away from the sheen the shone on your neck.

"I've been so frazzled lately I hope you're not too mad at me being late," you rushed out, practically stumbling over to sit down in your chair.

He hummed and stared at your plush thighs that clung to the leather of the chair and watched as you shifted to prevent them sticking, getting flustered when you saw he was watching you.

"Sorry, I'm a bit sticky it's a bit warm outside, s-should I just stand instead?" you offered up quickly, standing up and fixing your sundress.

"Why don't you sit on my desk instead then? Here let me move these papers out of you way-"

"W-won't I get the desk dirty since I'm all sweaty" you interjected, heart racing as he cleared his desk off for you, making space so you'd have no choice but to sit right in front of his chair.

"Don't worry about it, now be a good girl and come sit," he cooed, giving you eyes that almost dared you to disobey him. Quickly you went over and sat on his desk, swallowing thickly when Sunghoon began massaging your calves as he removed your shoes.

"Poor baby rushed over to our tutoring session, your legs must be exhausted and aching," he soothed, tender hands working into the soft flesh of your skin.

"Only s-slightly, it's fine I"m used to it," you excused, squirming as Sunghoon leaned closer to your skin. "Is this something a professor should be um...doing, I mean I know we've gotten close b-but.." you trailed off, yelping when Sunghoon dragged his lips against your knee.

"Then tell me to stop kitten," he taunted, kissing the inner of your thighs as he slid off your other shoe, looking up at you through framed lenses.

"You're not stupid baby, your test grades prove that well enough. Surely you kept coming to our lessons hoping it'd end up like this," he continued, hoisting your legs over his shoulders as he pulled you closer against his face.

"I...I don't know," was all you could muster out, toes curling as he softly kissed your inner thighs. Sunghoon chuckled under his breath and stood up, pushing you down onto his desk as he took of his glasses.

The air was knocked out of you for a second as you lay splayed on the desk, the cool hardwood being a stark contrast to your sticky skin.

“It’s okay baby,” he leaned in, licking the sweat from your neck. “It’s okay to say you like doing perverted things with me. Go on, tell your professor how much you like it”, he cooed, rubbing your puffy clit with his thumb.

You whined as felt something tightening in your tummy, mustering up the courage to speak.

“I-I like it”, you choked out, your toes curling in your tube socks as you started to feel how thick his fingers really were.

“Awww, give me more than that yeah? Tell me exactly what you like.” He couldn’t help himself. He wanted you to profess all types of profanities through hazy eyes and shaky legs, for you to beg to be ruined and defiled by him.

“I like..doing perverted things with you.” You felt your face burn as you stumbled your way through the sentence, rutting your hips into a feeling that only got tighter.

“Aw you do? Well in that case let me teach my princess all the perverted things we can do together..." he trailed off, squeezing the side of your thighs.

"Good girl~, such a good girl~" Sunghoon cooed, lifting up the hem of your sundress. "Cute panties," he drawled as his index finger slid down the slit, pressing against the sticky wet patch. "Mind if I keep them?"

You couldn't help but buck your hips into the feeling as you nodded without a second thought, your nails digging into the gloss furnish of his desk.

"Sweetheart you shouldn't agree to everything I say," he spoke, cupping your heat in his hand and massaging it. You gripped onto his shoulders instead and whimpered into his chest as you felt trickles of wetness soak your cotton underwear, meak "I'm sorry"s leaving you.

"It's okay, it's okay, don't apologize. It's just," he moved the hair covering your ear with his mouth before kissing against it, letting out deep groans as he rutted himself against you.

"there are some bad people out there, waiting to take advantage of pretty young girls like you. Are you going to spread your legs for everyone?"

"No, it's j-just because it's...you," you whimpered against his chest.

Sunghoon sucked air through his teeth as his self control unraveled at the seams.

"Because it's me?" he inquired, kneeling down so he was eye-level with your soaked core, messing with the hem of your panties.

"Wait Ihaven'tshoweredso-" your legs shook around his head as his tongue pressed against the soaked wet patch of your underwear, groaning at the taste that trickled onto his tongue.

"Is that why you taste and smell so sweet princess?" He groaned, pulling your underwear down without a second thought to expose yourself barren to him, his cock twitching in his pants at how sticky you already were.

"Here hold my hand sweetheart, squeeze it as hard as you like," he cooed as he offered up his free hand to you. You obliged immediately and squeezed his digits as his other free hand rubbed softly against your swollen clit, leaving light kisses on the puffy bud.

You let out meek "I'm sorry"s as your nails dug into the alabaster skin of his hand, struggling to keep yourself still as you felt the warmth of his lips wrap around your clit before sucking softly.

"It's okay princess, just sink into the feeling, I'm going to make you feel so so good," he groaned between your legs. You nodded and felt your eyes flutter into the back your head as you felt every ridge of his tongue against your entrance, saliva mixing with arousal as he lapped up everything you gave him.

The pleasure only increased as he wantonly hummed around your bud, Sunghoon drunk off of how sweet and syrupy you tasted on his tongue.

Sunghoon was doing his best to not just pin you to the desk and fuck the daylights of you, not understanding how someone could be so intoxicating. Every thing from your little gasps of air to the whimpers you were trying to hide in your throat were making him dizzy, desperate even.

"Your hole is twitching every time I suck your clit princess," Sunghoon remarked as he came up for air, licking his lips clean. "It must want something in it huh?" he drawled, sliding two thick digits into you. Your back arched off the desk as you felt the tight stretch between your legs, your hands going to squeeze his wrist you whimpered.

"Oh no no baby, don't try to move away from it. Take it like a good girl, like my favorite student would," Sunghoon praised as he scissored his fingers inside of you, chuckling at how droplets of arousal leaked out.

Hearing him say you're his favorite student made your heart thrum in excitement, your thighs tensing up when the pads of his fingers pressed down against the spongy part of your walls.

"Pull your sundress down and play with your chest for me princess," Sunghoon ordered gently as he moved to the skin of your neck, infatuated with how he could feel your heart beating through his kisses. "Do it like how you do it when you're in your bed all alone, fingers between your legs..." he whispered against your ear, unable to hide his grin.

Your body felt unbearably hot as you whimpered and complied, pulling down the straps of your sundress and moving your bra. Your legs inexplicably shook as you tugged the pert buds, biting down on your lip as Sunghoon sped up the pace of his fingers.

Sunghoon made a mental note of your movements so he could replicate them next time, his mouth getting hungry as his mouth encircled a free nipple.

You spasmed slightly at his movements as you felt his coarse tongue suck and lick around the sensitive skin, making a point to hold eye contact with you any time your stare met his. Coupled with the gushing sounds he heard between your legs only got more turned on, leaving deep marks on your chest he was sure would last for days.

He couldn't help it, he was getting impatient, desperate to have you whimpering out his name and begging for him to ruin you in this godforsaken sundress.

"Fuck~ you're gonna get me in so much fucking trouble," Sunghoon groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his fingers. "I'm sorry baby but I can't let you come from just some fingering now can I?" he teased.

The eyes you gave him almost broke him down right there as he pulled out his digits and sucked them clean, unbuckling his belt with the other. On any other occasion he'd love to have you on your knees trying to fit him in your soft mouth, but his patience for that was long gone.

Your eyes enlarged as you watched his member spring free and press against his lower abdomen, Sunghoon hissing through his teeth as he stroked the reddened tip.

"Don't worry princess, we're gonna make it fit okay? Even if you are this tight," he reassured teasingly, kissing your temple as he pinned both your hands in one of his.

"Y-you don't need a condom" you choked out.

Sunghoon raised brows and chuckled at the fact such a statement could come from such a timid mouth of yours, ripping it with his teeth and putting it on regardless.

"Mmm of course I do sweetheart," he cooed, rubbing his length between your folds. Even through the condom you could feel how warm and heavy his member felt between your legs, your mind racing at the fact that you were going to have sex with your professor.

"Besides, if I came inside would you be able to keep my load inside you like a good girl? We can't have a mess in my office now can we?" he drawled in your ear, pushing his thick tip past your walls. You already felt a stretch that was incomparable to his fingers and started struggling against his grip, Sunghoon only laughing at you and tightening his hold even more.

"Shhhh don't run princess, don't run, this is how it feels to be fucked by a real man yeah? No college guy could find my baby's special spot like I could," he soothed, finding it so cute how you sucked on your bottom lip to cope with the stretch.

You raised your head slightly to discover that he was only halfway in, despite how full your lower belly felt. When Sunghoon saw your widened eyes he could only pout at you, finding you absolutely adorable.

And adorable things deserved to be ruined.

"Here princess, kiss me yeah?"

Shakily you reached up some and connected your lips with his, jolting against his mouth as Sunghoon had taken the opportunity to push himself to the hilt.

"P-professor" was all you could whine out as you felt your mind go dazy, Sunghoon using the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours.

"You're doing so good, taking all of me princess, such a good girl," Sunghoon praised softly in between kisses. He knew once he started moving his hips you'd be a goner, already evident by how dazy your eyes looked when he stared into them.

You felt his tip push against the entrance of your cervix and you couldn't help but let out a sharp gasp at the feeling, biting down on Sunghoon's shoulder to cope with the heavy sensation in your tummy.

"Hello? Mr. Park are you in your office?"

Your eyes widened and you went to move to hide, recognizing the voice as your fellow classmate. Sunghoon only laughed at your attempts and pinned your wrists, giving you a "shh" motion as he continued pressing his hips against yours.

"Yeah, I'm here. However if my door is closed that means office hours are also closed correct?" he tsked, sucking a breath between his teeth as you clenched down around him.

Despite his seemingly calm composure you had your mouth squeezed shut feeling a tight knot start to form.

Your legs shook as you tried tapping his wrist with your bound hands, Sunghoon cooing at you softly and kissing your cheek.

"I know you're close baby, I know I know, just hold out for a bit longer mmkay? I'll take care of you, I will."

You could only nod as your face scrunched up from holding back your moans, desperately wondering why this student was so keen on getting into the office of one of the most stubborn people alive.

"I know, but there's this problem I really-"

"Rules are rules" he interjected, taking out his point on you by an extra forceful snap of his hips. Yours nails digged into your own skin as you tried to follow your professors wishes and hold out just a bit longer for him, softly whispering his name to garner his attention.

“Just a bit longer,” he shushed warmly, kissing your temple as he listened to the footsteps outside the door. Sure enough there was a sigh, followed by the sound of sneakers against the tile floor and the student walked away, Sunghoon relinquishing his grip on you and slowly speeding up his hips.

“P-Professor my tummy," was all you could manage out, squirming as you felt the knot get tighter.

"Mmm, you feel the pressure building right here?" Sunghoon couldn't help but tease, firmly pushing down on your lower belly. Your nails left red marks down his back and chest as you gasped at the feeling, mind slowly entering a point of incoherence.

You hazily nodded and felt your toes curl as Sunghoon peppered your neck with open mouth kisses, unable to stop himself from marking you.

"I'm close too princess, hold on just a bit longer for me and we can come together yeah? C'mon, I know you can," Sunghoon purred as his hips only sped up faster, raising your lower back slightly make sure he hit your spot every single time.

You could only hold your breath and scrunch your face as you tried warding off the feeling that was only getting stronger. Sunghoon's own resolve had withered away as he bit down on his bottom lip to suppress the groan that would be heard by the whole hallway, sweat on his entire body as you squeezed down on him like a vice.

"Fuck~ princess, go ahead and let loose for me."

You felt your mind go blank as the knot snapped tighter than you were anticipating, having to suppress your moans by burying yourself into Sunghoon's neck as liquid gushed from between your legs and your walls pulsed around sporadically.

Sunghoon's came shortly thereafter by burying his face in your own neck, his breathing ragged and uneven as he lay shaking on top of you.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you and your mind started swimming at what you'd just done and the mess you'd just made, knowing that if your ancestors were ever to watch you they'd hang their heads in shame.

Yet, that didn't stop you from wanting to do it again.

"Professor," you began, refusing to make eye contact with him after what you'd just done.

"Mmmm yes sweetheart?" Sunghoon cooed as he slowly pulled out, his collarbones and forehead glistening with sweat as he hid the evidence.

"Next time, I-I wanna do it...at your place," you offered up. This was a dangerous and well, a fireable request, you both knew that. However, that didn't stop Sunghoon from bending down to kiss your collarbones and chin, beaming it with happiness.

"I think I'd quite like that arrangement princess."

[livinginshambles]

Preview: You'll never compare to her | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're in a relationship with James, but he keeps on comparing you with Lily subconsciously until he says it to your face on a drunken night.

Notes: Sorry for the long break I took, but I aced all my exams, so it was definitely worth it :) Enjoy this preview for now, I love you guys! Also, not proofread, blah blah.

If you want to be tagged, you have to tell me in the comments, or send a dm/ask, specifying which story.

Full fic

__________________________

All you could manage was a  bitter smile. James looked defiantly at you, but his eyes seemed to find it difficult to find focus. Your throat tightened and you tried to swallow, but still couldn’t find an adequate response to James’ hurtful words.

“I know that, James,” you eventually wryly replied. You cleared your throat and furiously blinked away tears that threatened to show the impact of his words. “You should go get some sleep,” you murmured, and you tried to coax him into laying down on his bed, desperately trying to ignore the issue at hand. Perhaps if you paid it no mind, you could pass this off as nothing more than a drunken insult that you could pretend never happened.

But James doubled down.

“You will never compare to her,”  he repeated. This time he added some emphasis as well. You inhaled sharply. His words were no longer slurred, and his eyes seemed to bore right into yours. You’ve never felt so small in your life, your skin crawled uncomfortable as time passed uncomfortably in silence. You frowned deeply now and stared out the window behind James. What were you supposed to do with this new information?

You looked him back in his eyes. “I’m going to go,” you slowly spoke up, trying to keep your voice calm. “Don’t forget you said this. I want you to remember that you said this because I need you to apologize for it tomorrow, James.”

James groaned; his headache started to get worse. “You can go, but you don’t have to come back. I won’t apologize tomorrow anyway.” James turned around and faced his back at you. He was drifting off. “You’ll forgive me anyway. You always do. At least you’re easier than her.”

Your face burned in embarrassment; your eyes shifted across the room as if trying to make sure no one had heard him. How long could you hold back your tears to keep your dignity, you wondered. Would you at least make it all the way to your own dorms?

“Okay,” you resigned shakily with a nod, slowly getting up while staring at his back. His breaths seemed to slow down to a steady pace, and you knew he had fallen asleep.

Your arms hung defeatedly next to your body and your hand tapped your leg restlessly before reaching for your wand. You murmured a spell on the glass of water on his bedside. It would help him with his hangover tomorrow, and it would be the last act of affection you would direct at him, you decided.

Full fic

[sweetpascal]

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 — 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

gif by: @richardgrimes

pairing: perv!stepdad!joel x fem!reader

summary: when you do the unthinkable, joel takes it upon himself to let out all of his anger and frustration onto you. the punishments that follow are ones that officially tear you apart and turn you into an unrecognizable girl.

warnings: MINORS DNI. DUB-CON. BIG AGE GAP [18/52], joel is VERY VERY VERY mean in this chapter, face slapping, hair pulling, hella manipulation, finger sucking, spanking as punishment [with his hand and belt], TW: isolation as punishment, TW: emotional abuse, joel spits on your face, oral [m receiving], TW: forced asphyxiation, joel has a very big dick ok, masochism, sadism, dacryphilia, kinda angsty ??

wc: 7.3k

notes: i felt kinda blah about this series cause i feel like i'm not making joel mean enough compared to how some writers write dark!joel (´•︵•`) so i got really sad and put all my emotions into this chapter as a coping mechanism and made joel REALLY fucking mean and just... a horrible and nasty man. trauma ?? i think so. ENJOY. ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

edit: i posted this later than expected UGH. expect two updates in one day.

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

By the time you awoke, the space beside you in bed was vacant. You have no recollection of drifting off in Joel's embrace. As you rise, the fluffy blanket cascades down, gathering around your hips. Joel must have draped it over you once you had succumbed to sleep. The absence of his clothes on the floor and the chill of his side of the bed leave you questioning whether he stayed the night at all, stirring a sense of unease within you. He had done something new, something that made you feel good, and he wasn't here when you woke up. Why? Why wasn't he here? Why do you feel so cold all of a sudden? Was this something normal that men do? Embarrassed by the series of events from last night, you pull on your discarded panties and shorts.

The sunrise had not yet begun. Looking out the window, the sky displayed an almost purplish tint with the sun barely cresting the horizon. It was a cloudless sky, yet the faint chirping of morning birds could be heard from their respective trees. Unsure of the time, as Joel had confiscated your phone and you lacked an alarm clock, the day's start remained ambiguous.

As you tiptoe out of your room, you notice the house is completely quiet. Joel usually wakes up before dawn, but today, a faint snore drifts from his and your mom's bedroom. Moving down the hall, you gently push the slightly open door further. In the dim blue light filtering in from outside, you can just make out Joel's form. He's sprawled on his stomach in the center of the bed, clutching his pillow while your mom's lies abandoned on the floor. Shirtless, the sheets are drawn just below the dimples of his back. The bedside clock shows 5:22 AM.

"Daddy?" you whisper faintly into the darkness, pausing for an answer. Only his soft snores, muffled by the pillow, meet your ears. Drawing nearer, you notice Joel is lying on his good ear, the other affected by partial hearing loss. The urge to rouse him is strong, yet you hesitate, knowing these moments of peaceful rest are few for him.

The rumbling of your stomach makes you whimper. Joel usually prepares meals for you when asked. Your mother, however, rarely agrees, often reminding you that you're old enough to cook for yourself. But Joel always protests, saying, "I don't want your pretty little hands to get all cut up and burned." Perhaps he wouldn't mind if you made breakfast just this once. It would be a sweet gesture to surprise him with breakfast in bed. You wonder if your mom ever did something like that for him.

"I'm going to make breakfast for us, okay, Daddy?" you whisper, a bit louder this time, your hand hovering just above his broad back. You can feel the warmth radiating onto your palm. When he doesn't respond, only emitting another snore, you quietly tiptoe out of the room and gently close the door, cringing when it makes a loud noise at the last moment.

Descending the stairs, a sense of unease weighs heavily in your stomach. Alone, with dark blue hues filling patches of the vacant house and shadows stretching across the walls, you almost feel an invisible presence. You find yourself wishing Joel were awake to fend off the lurking shadows. Rushing to the kitchen, you flip on the light, blinking against the sudden brightness until your eyes adjust.

Opening the fridge revealed a lackluster array of dinner leftovers, several half-empty condiment bottles, an empty milk carton, and a bag of grapes beginning to rot. It was disappointing to find nothing inspiring to cook with. A glance at the stovetop clock showed it was 5:30. The local market would open at 6, and it was only a half-hour walk away. However, the prospect of walking that distance didn't appeal to you, dramatic as it might seem. Your eyes then fell upon Joel's truck keys and wallet in the bowl on the kitchen countertop. Surely, he wouldn't mind if you borrowed them for a quick shopping trip.

Right?

By the time you returned home, it was nearly 8 o'clock. The neighborhood had fully come to life. The groceries in the truck's backseat jostled with every gentle turn. A sinking feeling emerged at the thought of Joel's anger over you borrowing his truck without asking and taking some of his twenty-dollar bills. Yet, it stemmed from a desire to do something kind for him in gratitude for his good care during your mother's absence. An excitement bubbled within you, eager to burst.

You hadn't planned to be out this long, but losing track of time and procrastinating on your tasks is a frequent issue. Joel often chides you for this, playfully urging you to get your head out of the clouds and to come back down to earth. Your only hope is that Joel remains asleep, unaware of your absence. However, the missing money from his wallet, the extra miles on his truck, and the depleted gas are sure to give you away.

As you park the truck in the driveway, you notice the porch screen is wide open, though you remember closing it before sneaking out. Your heart sinks at the sight of Joel's daunting figure in the doorway, his gaze piercing through the windshield. It's a wonder the glass doesn't crack under the weight of his stare. Your pulse quickens, a flurry of nervous butterflies takes flight in your stomach, and your palms dampen with sweat as you clutch the steering wheel tightly.

Joel points at you and then to the ground at his feet, silently mouthing, "Now." He then vanishes back into the house, clearly pissed off. Fear grips you, making it daunting to leave the truck's safety. After six agonizing minutes, you gather enough bravery to step out, your breath hitching in your throat and almost making it difficult to breathe.

After hoisting the grocery bags into your arms and nudging the back passenger door closed with your foot, likely leaving a mark on the polished metal, you make your way to the porch with unsteady steps. The door stands slightly open, and you gently push it wider. As you spin around to close it, a hand reaches over your shoulder and slams it with such force that the house seems to shake. Startled, you yelp loudly as Joel grabs your arm firmly and pulls you into the kitchen, his long strides causing you to stumble over your feet.

"Sit your fuckin' ass down," he practically barks, pulling out a kitchen chair and slams it down. He pushes you toward the chair so forcefully that the grocery bags tumble down around you. As you land on the wooden chair, the impact from Joel's shove nearly expels all the air from your lungs.

He stands over you from your seated position, towering and nearly trembling with fury. Joel's hands are clenched into tight fists, his knuckles whitening under the strain. He scratches his jaw and paces, a low growl emanating from deep within his chest as the intensity in his eyes burns fiercer. You close your eyes, sitting motionless, bracing yourself.

"Are you out of your GODDAMN MIND?!" He bends down to scream in your face, his face contorted in a way that makes him look scary and so different from the usual angry Joel you normally see. This Joel was drowning in rage. His eyes were nearly black and the lines on his face deepened as he snarled in your face. "You fucking ANSWER ME!" One hand grabs the back of your hair and yanks your head back so fast that your nerve spasms, a shrieking cry escaping your lips. His other hand grabs your face and squeezes your jaw so tightly that pain blossoms throughout your gums.

"Stop, stop, stop, please, stop!" You're babbling in his face, thick tears sliding down your cheeks from the intense pain in your scalp, neck, and jaw. You could barely catch a breath from how hard you're crying. "Da-Daddy, p-please!" You're grabbing on both of his forearms, nails digging deep through his long shirt, no doubt leaving indentations.

Joel only grunts lowly, his breath heavy and fast. His hands squeeze tighter, and he roughly shakes your head, loving the way your face scrunches up at the pain he's causing. Then, he forcibly pushes your head away, releasing his hands from your knotted hair and your already bruising jaw. Tears streaming down your face, you draw your knees up to your chest for comfort and hesitantly reach for the back of your head, while your other hand softly caresses your jaw. Your eyes are wide, reflecting a state of shock and fear. Joel's gaze is fixed on you, his frown growing more pronounced as you quiver uncontrollably.

He pulls his wallet from his back pocket and flings it towards you. It strikes your knees and tumbles to the floor, unfolding just enough to reveal its barren interior.

"You take my fuckin' truck," Joel says in a low voice, trembling with anger. He steps back, his boots thudding on the floorboards. "You take my fuckin' money." At this point, you're nearly hyperventilating, silently cursing yourself for such a foolish act and expecting him to accept it. He goes on, his tone grave, "And you sneak out without telling me, huh? What, you want more freedom than what I'm giving you here?"

The anger that Joel feels is indescribable. It's coursing through his veins like heroin, poisoning his blood and gradually taking over his body. He doesn't know what to do, or even think. All that he can do is react. How stupid of you to think this was okay. How mind-numbingly idiotic it was of him to expect you to follow his rules and obey him like a good girl. As he looks down at you like smeared shit at the bottom of his shoe, there seems to be only one option left.

Before you can react, Joel has seized your arm and pulled you up from the chair, nearly dislocating your shoulder. His footsteps are long, resounding, and forceful. Tears continue to flow as he hauls you up the stairs. You stumble on each step, crying and sobbing, while you try to keep pace with him. Your knees are banging against every edge as Joel practically drags you up the steps.

"Da-Dad-dy!" Choking on your tears, you can barely see anything. Your vision is blurry, and your hearing is muffled. Every nerve in your body is on fire. "Pl-Please, Jo-el!"

"Get up, girl! C'mon. Get your fuckin' ass up!" He grunts through labored breaths, jaw clenching tightly as he drags your body by the arm up the last step. "I've had 'nough of you."

Suddenly, he kicks your bedroom door open, your heartbreaking cries falling on deaf ears. Your body is shoved into your room with enough force to make you collapse onto the ground. You're gasping for air, your fingers slick with sweat as they frantically claw at the rug, desperate to find something to hold onto.

Joel stands motionless in the doorway, his gaze fixed on you without a trace of emotion. Thoughts flood his mind, overwhelming him like a tsunami. Make her hurt. Make her cry. Make her beg for mercy. He retrieves a key from his front pocket and observes as you pathetically curl into a ball on the floor, your shoulders shaking violently while you cry into the carpet. His hand rests on the doorknob. Before leaving, he speaks in an unexpectedly gentle tone, "Until I believe you've learned your lesson, you're going to stay here, and you're going to think about what you did."

Then, he departs and forcefully closes your door. Amidst your heavy sobs, the sound of the bedroom door lock engaging is audible. Glancing over your shoulder weakly, you notice the doorknob has been altered from before. Gone is the twist lock, replaced now by a keyed lock mechanism.

The epiphany strikes with overwhelming force. Enclosed by a door that's locked and windows sealed shut, you find yourself imprisoned with no means of escape.

Unaware of how much time has passed, you stay on the ground, curled up, emotionless. The tears have stopped, leaving behind an empty stare. The night has already set in, shrouding your room in darkness from top to bottom. Joel's footsteps are audible everywhere, hardly silent. Whenever he approaches your door, there's a halt, a moment of stillness, and then the sound of his steps resumes. Undoubtedly, he was listening with his ear against the door. Each approach brought a heaviness to your heart and a sinking sensation in your stomach.

The aroma of garlic sizzling in oil drifted from the kitchen, prompting your mouth to water and your stomach to knot with hunger. You hadn't eaten since the night before. The clatter of pots and pans, either being used or stored away, brought tears to your eyes. "Stupid, stupid girl," you chide yourself. It was foolish to attempt a kind gesture for Joel, only to have it go horribly wrong. It was a rash and impetuous move. Now, he'll never forgive you for this. This realization has you weeping once more into the spit-soaked, tear-stained rug.

Engrossed in your thoughts, you fail to notice the door has come unlocked and now stands ajar, the hallway light spilling in and illuminating your huddled form. Joel pauses in the doorway, a plate of food in hand, and tuts softly at the pathetic sight before him.

"Sit up," he commands, making his way deeper into the dimly lit room. The sound of his rough voice had your entire body tensing and your quiet cries immediately halting. When you remain still, Joel becomes irritated and prods your hip forward with his muddy boot, leaving a mark on the pristine white dress you wore especially to surprise him. "I said, get your fuckin' ass up, little girl. Don't make me tell you again."

With trembling limbs, you gradually unfold yourself, grimacing as your muscles burn. Your scalp, jaw, neck, knees, and arms feel as though they are on fire. After hours of immobility and neglecting your aching body, the pain strikes you with overwhelming force.

Joel squats before you, emitting a soft grunt as his knees pop and his lower back tightens. In silence, he extends the plate of food between you both: parmesan garlic chicken, green beans, and red roasted baby potatoes. The aroma and appearance make your eyes widen, your mouth water, and your stomach rumble.

The moment your fingertips graze the plate's underside, Joel pulls it away and sets it on the ground. Your faint smile vanishes, replaced by a frown as you meet his stern gaze. He remains silent, his stare unwavering. Looking down at the plate, it dawns on you that there's not a fork, knife, or even a spoon in sight.

"Eat," he commands, his voice a quiet murmur. Joel's gaze is fixed on you, his eyes unblinking, his facial expression shifting subtly. The softness and tenderness that were once reserved for you have vanished. He never used to look at your mom the way he looked at you. But now, his gaze is identical. It leaves you feeling sorrowful and heartbroken.

Confused and very much embarrassed at not knowing what to do, you hesitantly reach out to grab the chicken with your bare hand. Joel's hand roughly clamping around your wrist and shoving it away prevents you from doing so. There was a surge of panic that shot through you like a shotgun blast.

"No," he snaps, his eyes narrowing and his scowl deepening. It's clear he's losing patience. Joel has no time for games. "Bend down… and eat," he commands.

There's a tense, heavy moment of silence as you thoroughly think about what he's telling you to do. Warmth spreads throughout your neck and rises to your cheeks before settling on the tips of your ears. Your heart plummets to your stomach. So, like an obedient little dog, you lower your head down to the plate on the ground and begin eating.

Joel smiles at your obedience, one hand gently petting your head and tenderly massaging the tendrils of hair connected to your scalp that he viscously yanked. He softly quiets you when you flinch and unintentionally whimper. He maintains the gentle, affectionate strokes of his hand through your hair, even gathering it into a ponytail to help you eat more comfortably.

"That's a good girl," he softly praises, settling onto his knees in front of you and using his other hand to gently stroke your jaw. "See how easy it is to obey Daddy? You just needed some of Daddy's tough lovin', huh?"

Is this what it was? Some tough love? You've never encountered that before, much less experienced it. Since you were never a problem child, discipline was seldom necessary. Maybe this is exactly what you needed to be a good girl for Joel. Maybe this tough love is what will help you do better and learn from your stupid mistakes.

As you continue eating, Joel finds himself slowly loving the sight of you eating like a fucking mutt in front of him. Knowing that he can push you so far as to do something like this excites him. His hand tightens in the makeshift ponytail he has your hair in, and his eyes darken. Letting out a whimper that was muffled from your food, you make sure to not complain about it to Joel. He was already upset with you from earlier and you really don't want to push it further.

"That's enough," he declares, his hand in your hair stopping your movements while his other hand takes your plate away, leaving half of the food untouched and uneaten. His hand pops you on the cheek when he hears you protesting, a pained yelp escaping your slobbered lips. He forces your head up to be eye level with his. "Listen to me, little girl. From this moment forward, Daddy will decide what you eat, when you eat it, and how much you can eat. Have I made myself clear?" His voice's tone is so authoritative that it holds no room for argument, not that you could muster one even if you wished to.

Nevertheless, you find yourself nodding within his grasp. Choosing not to protest was wise. Should this behavior be part of your punishment or his version of tough love, you certainly wouldn't want to witness him at full strength. Merely the thought was enough to make you shudder with fear once more. Joel was an incredibly strong man, often unaware of his own strength. He could break your jaw with one squeeze--he almost fucking did it this morning.

Joel mocks your nod. "Good," he hums, offering you a pleased smile as he lovingly strokes the apple of your cheeks. "Now, come to the bathroom so Daddy can brush your teeth."

Leaving your half-finished plate behind, you follow Joel into the hallway. You trail behind him aimlessly, your steps shaky and limping. He notices but chooses not to comment. It's for the best, a silent reminder that such consequences will recur if you act carelessly again.

Joel opens the door to the main bathroom and guides you inside with care. He lifts you with ease under your arms and sets you down on the countertop. A small squeak escapes from your chest, a sound that Joel finds adorable. He flashes a subtle grin and begins to wet your toothbrush, dabbing on the toothpaste. He shuffles between your thighs and thumbs your mouth open to start brushing your teeth. His actions brought you comfort, making you feel cherished and cared for. Even though you could have done it yourself, witnessing Joel display his nurturing side was touching. You longed to see more of this aspect of him, silently promising to be well-behaved with every passing minute.

"Alright, babydoll," he says as pats your thighs lovingly and rinses off your toothbrush after instructing you to lean over the sink and spit out the minty froth. "Now, get your butt back to your room and lean over the bed, panties off."

Joel notices the confusion spark in your eyes before it manifests in the furrowing of your brows. Your lips part to question him, but the words become stuck in your throat as his eyes darken and he gives a subtle shake of his head, tutting softly to himself.

"And here I thought you were goin' to start listening to me," he lets out a dark chuckle before invading your space with his strong chest pressing against yours. The force of the action causes your back to crash against the mirror, your head striking the glass while the sink spout presses into your lower back, causing discomfort and pain.

He bares his teeth just barely as he gets in your face, nostrils flaring and eyebrows furrowing, the storm brewing wildly in his eyes. Joel laughs gruffly as your eyes widen and you put your hands up in front of your body against his chest to protect yourself from his unpredictability. Oh, how cute. You were shaking under his hold like a frightened little bunny. Joel presses you harder against the mirror, no doubt forcing the sink spout deeper into your back. He grumbles pleasantly under his breath. He was causing this terrible fear clear as day on your face. The blooming bruises on your body are caused by his hands. The finger shaped bruises looked like a work of art on your delicate skin.

"Oh, babydoll," his breath fans across your face. He gives you a mocking pout, hushing you softly when the tears spill. "You're makin' it real hard not to paint that ass black and blue, you know that?"

Your bottom lip trembles and your body quivers, eyes shutting tightly as you mentally prepare yourself for Joel's next action. Tears spill and disappear underneath your aching jaw. He wipes them away at first, but when they keep sliding down, he wipes a tear-stained thumb across your lips before pushing the appendage deeper into your mouth and pressing down on your tongue.

"D'you taste that?" He asks you so quietly that you almost missed it. He's looking at his thumb between your lips and bites down on his own. Joel gazes into your wide eyes, which stare back at him as if he were the boogeyman. In a way, he is. "That's the taste of fear, sweetheart. Don't it taste fuckin' delicious?" The laugh he lets out is depraved, deranged, and delirious. With his thumb still in your mouth, he uses the other fingers to wrap under your chin before using that grip to force your head to move up and down roughly. "That's what I thought. Now, I ain't going to ask you again, babydoll. Take your ass back to your room and take off your fuckin' panties. When I get back, you better be leaning over the edge or so fuckin' help me God."

The mere threat was sufficient to send you scuttling down the hallway, pushing past Joel in a rush to get to your room. He watches you do so with a sadistic smile on his face. To see you react in such a way has him so fucking hard in his jeans. He cups a hand over the thickness and squeezes. There was a brief warmth pooling in his groin, and he let out a husky moan before his hand falls away. In due time, he silently tells himself.

Shaking, stuttering breaths were muffled in the bedding. You did exactly as you were told. The tips of your toes just barely skimming the rug, you were leant over the edge of the bed with your panties pooled at your ankles. One of your hands had blindly reached across the bed to grab onto your stuffed animal to curl an arm around it and press it against your side. The only comforting thing you can have at this moment that can hopefully ease the unsettling anxiety that won't go away.

Uncertain of how much time has passed, it might have been five minutes, ten, or perhaps even an hour. You caught a fleeting sound of Joel entering the room to retrieve your plate, then he left, securing the door with a lock behind him.

Long stretches of silence enveloped you, allowing the sound of your own heartbeat to echo mercilessly in your ears. It was a fleeting moment of tranquility before Joel determined his next move. In this stillness, sleep nearly overtook you, the exhaustion from hours of weeping creeping up silently. Then, the door unlocks, knob slowly turning. The ominous creaking of your door opening has you tensing as you hold your breath.

The steady stomp of Joel's footsteps enters your room before the door is shut behind him. The sight of you in a position that he demanded from you was driving him fucking wild. Panties at your ankles and your cute ass on display, the hem of your dress stopping just at the middle of your cheeks. He can see your pussy nearly calling out for him to play with her. But he can't, not at this moment. He needs you to understand that your actions, done behind his back, were unacceptable. They were reckless and dangerous—just the thought of it is enough to make Joel feel like punching a wall over and over.

"Now, what am I goin' to do with you, babydoll?" The question is rhetorical. He knows what he's going to do to you, but you don't. Leaving you in the dark of where his mind runs wild, keeping you pure from his deranged, perverted thoughts was for your own good. He intends to maintain a safe distance to prevent any critical harm, beyond what has already been inflicted.

The sound of Joel's voice has your hips shifting, your pussy lips just barely parted to give him a show of your exposed clit poking out from the hood that protects the exposed nerve. As he gets closer, he can see your stuffed animal in a headlock under your arm. How cute and pathetic.

"I gotta say, honey," he starts talking, his voice humorless and no longer holding that warm tone he previously had when he walked in. "It was adorable you thought I was done with you tonight. I mean, you really thought Daddy locking you up here was all that he was goin' to do?"

Unsure if the question was rhetorical or not, you still answered in a breathy voice, "Y-Yes, Daddy."

A smile makes its way onto Joel's face. "Yes, Daddy," he mocks your high pitched, breathy voice. The act of him doing so caused an embarrassed flush to warm your cheeks and ears. To be mocked made you feel so small. But that's what you are to Joel; this tiny, little thing that is so easy to crush in his big hand.

His groin rests against your ass cheeks, both of his hands lifting your dress higher until it pools around your upper back, further exposing your naked body to his eager eyes. The rough denim of his jeans and the cold metal of his zipper pressing into your backside made you hiss under your breath. Joel's hands hold onto your hips, forcing your body further onto the bed until your toes are no longer skimming above the rug, your feet now only dangling a few inches up.

"That's more like it," he grunts quietly, biting down on the plump flesh of his body limp when he sees goosebumps erupt on your soft skin. So, so fucking soft and untainted. As one hand pins you down at your lower back, his other hand gently rubs across your left ass cheek. Barely glancing at you to make sure you're prepared for what's to come, Joel mutters, "Brace yourself, sweetheart."

Then, he thwacks his palm across your skin. The force and strength of the smack made you cry out in surprise and pain. He smacks your other cheek with the same force. He does it again and again, back and forth, back and forth. Your legs kick behind you as fiery warmth blossoms along your backside. Your arm squeezes tighter around your stuffed bunny as you blindly reach a hand behind you to cover your bottom. Joel was quick to grab your wrist to pin it at your lower back.

He doesn't fucking stop spanking you. Not even when his own handprint is starting to show on your skin. He grunts with every thwack of his hand across your sensitive flesh. The cries that are forced out of you were music to his ears. Your backside feels like it's on fire underneath his wide palm; he doesn't know when to stop or ease up. The frustration and irritation from earlier were slowly making their way into Joel's mind.

"Bad." Smack. "Bad." Smack. "Fuckin'." Smack. "Girl."

Joel grunts like an animal as the smacks happen in quick succession. You're wailing into the covers, feet kicking weakly as you try so desperately to wiggle away from him. He won't stop. The pain is indescribable. It burns so badly, throbbing non-stop and feeling like a million needles are being stabbed into your skin. Your throat hurts from your pain-filled wails that are muffled into your bedding.

He's panting heavily and sweating. Wiping a forearm across his forehead, Joel removes his hands from your body, tilting one hand to the side to observe your marked ass. His handprints are on your skin, clear as day. He can feel the blazing heat radiating from your backside. But again, he's not done with you yet. And he tells you just that.

"Quit your fuckin' whinin'," he orders, both hands lowering to his thick leather belt to undo it from the hoops of his jeans. "We're not done until I say we're done." He folds the leather and snaps it together, the resounding sound causing you to cry harder in the sheets.

You learned your lesson. You know that you've been a bad girl. You know this. But the words fail to emerge, your voice and mouth unable to coordinate effectively enough to communicate with Joel. A tumult of emotions rages through your violently trembling body: fear, confusion, intense pain, and fatigue.

Folded, thick leather smacking against tender, angry skin is what forces a scream to erupt from your throat. With your bunny discarded, both hands desperately grab at your bedsheets to pull you away from Joel and his offending belt. You can faintly hear him sucking his teeth before one of his hands roughly yanks you back down by the back collar of your dress.

"Cry as much as you want to, babydoll!" he shouts through your pained wails. Then, the belt strikes across your ass repeatedly. Joel was barely giving you time to breathe through your tears and dribbling snot and drool that slides down your chin. "Kick all you want! Daddy ain't stopping!"

He lowers the position of the belt so that he can strike the back of your thighs as well. You're sure that after tonight, you won't be able to sit or speak for a very long time, for your vocal cords are nearly shattered from how hard and loud you were screaming, and Joel's hands and belt are bruising your backside. You're wishing that this torture will end. You're wishing that Joel will stop and hold you while you cry in his arms like a blubbering baby. Stop. Stop. Stop.

"Stop!" You screamed and screamed, both hands desperately reaching back to cover your backside. Everything burns. Everything feels like it's on fire. The pain only intensified when Joel tossed his belt aside and resorted to the palm of his hand again. "Please, please, stop, p-please!" Your speech now slurred and unrecognizable from thick tears, your hands claw at Joel's wrist, his hand wrapped around both of your own wrists to pin at your lower back again.

Only then does Joel snap out of it.

He's breathing so heavy that an innocent bystander would think that he was having a panic attack. Joel looks down at his creation and finally pulls his hand off of your wrists. Your arms go limp at your sides; you don't even bother trying to cover yourself. He looks at your backside, his thumb gently wiping away some blood that dotted around broken skin that was caused by his belt. He hums thoughtfully, bringing his thumb to his lips and licking your blood from the tip. In a day or two, your ass was going to be badly bruised and marked, all thanks to him.

"Such a sweet girl," he whispers, leaning down to press his nose behind your ear and inhaling deeply. Your body violently shakes underneath his chest. His groin is crushed against your horribly bruised ass, the pressure of it making you cry weakly, all the energy suddenly drained from you once he stopped abusing your ass.

Glancing down at his hard cock, now thick and pressing uncomfortably into his thigh, Joel decided now would be a good time for you to make him feel good. Though he knows you're not up for it, he doesn't fucking care. A darkness lurks within his mind, akin to an alter ego that commandeers his body, a monster in its purest form. This other facet of him is sadistic, vicious, and relentless. With you, it's so easy to fall into this second body. It's addicting. He can't stop, even if he knows this is wrong.

With a hoarse grunt, Joel grabs the back of your arms and yanks you off the bed to drop you down onto your knees. With a hand under your chin to keep your face pointed up to him, his other hand unbuttons his jeans and pulls them down, along with his underwear. He pushes both offending fabrics mid-thigh, sighing with satiated relief when his cock slaps up, nearly poking you in the eye.

You could hardly pay attention. Your eyes were unfocused and hazy, swollen lips parted to inhale and exhale shakily. You were so deep in another world that Joel had to roughly shake your head to bring you back down the earth. Unsure of why you feel so dizzy, you tried focusing on the pain in your backside that was still throbbing relentlessly, the burning fire now sizzling into a numb sensation.

"Tongue out," Joel demands roughly as he holds your hair into a makeshift ponytail with one hand as the other holds the base of his cock to tap his leaking tip against your lips.

Hearing his order, you look up at him with tear-filled eyes and do as you're told. You don't even know what exactly you're doing, but all you can hear in your mind is be a good girl and listen to him. Your eyes almost cross as you get a better look of his cock, and they widen comically. God, Joel was really long and thick. You wondered if all men were this size. It was intimidating to look at. You don't know if even less than half could fit in your mouth, let alone inside of you. Joel observes the revelation in your eyes and drops his left into a wink.

"Careful with your teeth, baby," his voice was gruff and strained, his mushroomed tip throbbing against your lips as his heavy balls tighten from the warmth pooling intensely in his groin. "Yeah, just like that."

His praise was something that you desperately needed tonight. Forgetting about the unrelenting abuse you endured on your backside, you can make it up to him by showing you that yes, you really are a good girl, and you will listen to him and do what you're told.

When you take too long to give Joel what he wants, he decides to take charge in one way that he knows how. Both hands grab either side of your head, forcing it to stay still as he shoves half of his cock into your mouth. Your eyes widened and you sputtered sloppily around his dick, your hands frantically fisting his jeans at his thighs. He grunts and groans, sweat pooling behind his neck and sliding down the line of his back.

"Goddamn," he hissed under his breath, moving his hips forward and back to start fucking your mouth with a brutal pace that has his balls slapping against your wet chin. "Born natural, ain't ya?"

Coughing and choking around his cock, you gagged and dry heaved as his thickness fills your mouth repeatedly. Spit dribbles down your chin and slides down your chest as you bite back the bile pooling in the back of your throat. Joel's breathing stutters for a split second at the sight below him. Your lips were obscenely stretched around his girth, eyes wide and glassy with thick tears just waiting to spill over. The sloppy, wet noises coming from your mouth nearly made him bust right in your mouth.

"Let me try somethin'," Joel mumbles to himself before roughly grabbing the back of your head and forcing your head all the way down until your nose and lips were crushed against his dark public hair. The contractions of your throat squeezing around his cock has him moaning gruffly at the ceiling, his head thrown back, Adam's apple bobbing in time with each moan that comes out.

Taking advantage of Joel's lax state, your nails dig into the thick meat of his thighs to push yourself off of him. His cock slips from your lips, strings of spit connecting from the enlarged tip to your puffy lips. You're coughing and dry heaving, your throat burning terribly. Joel looks down and grins wolfishly.

His hand languidly strokes his soaking cock. The sight of you struggling from his size was an image he wanted to engrave in his mind so he can watch it over and over again. He liked seeing you struggle. Hell, he fucking craves to see it again. Without giving you any time to prepare, he grabs the back of your head to force you down onto his cock once more.

The sopping wet choking sounds that are emitting from your throat are driving him insane. He wonders what would happen if he just...

Both hands roughly grab your head to yank you down until his cock goes down your throat again. This time, he keeps you there for a few, long, grueling seconds. You're sputtering wildly, eyes wide with terror as tears spill over your waterline. Your fists are weakly punching at his thighs, and you try to pull your head back, but Joel only crushes your head harder into his pelvis until your nose is pressed so deep into his pubic hair.

Joel grunts like a wild beast. "Just like that. Fuckin' choke on it." He sees your lashes flutter weakly, your eyes half-lidded and rolling into the back of your head. The lack of oxygen to your brain has your heart slowing dramatically. This is your death. Yeah, this is definitely how you're going to die: choking on Joel Miller's dick, also your mom's husband.

Suddenly, your head is pulled off and you're gasping for air like it's the last thing on earth. Your head is spinning and you're doubling over until your forehead is almost touching Joel's boots. Your throat burns and you can barely feel your tongue. This wasn't supposed to be happening. This is all your fault. You deserve this punishment. Bad girl. Bad, bad, bad girl. Slowly rocking yourself back and forth, you sniffle softly and take a weak glance up at him. A shadow almost casts over your face from where you kneeled, his long cock perfectly aligned below the ceiling light.

Joel bends down to lift you higher on your knees. His big hands gently hold your cheeks, and your eyes shut as this is the first tender touch you've felt in hours. You savor this moment, sniffling again and licking your bottom lip. Joel smiles sweetly, lowering his head to kiss your forehead, nose, and then your lips. A sweet little whimper reverberates against his lips. When he pulls away, he quietly instructs you to open your eyes, babydoll.

When you do, you're met with sweet, nice, tender Joel again. Have you really made it to the end of your punishment? Are you his good girl again? Is this really it? The moment doesn't last long. The smile on Joel's face vanishes gradually slowly. There's a sick feeling that returns back inside your stomach. This is going to be never-ending. This is your well-deserved punishment. Pain, pain, pain.

When Joel purses his lips, you flinch when a wad of spit lands on across the bridge of your nose and slides down your cheeks prettily. Your eyes open and your mouth drops. This was the most demeaning thing for him to do. Spitting on your face is a clear indication that you're nothing more than a personal toy for Joel to use. This whole entire night was of him showing you what you mean to him. The thought added a crack to your heart. All you ever wanted was to be good.

Joel's fingers filthily rub his spit all over your face, a crude smile on his face as he does so. His middle and index fingers are shoved into your mouth, the pads of his fingertips covered in his slick and are now laying against your wiggly tongue. "There we go," he breathes out, gently prodding his fingers further down your throat until they brush against your uvula, causing you to gag and sputter.

You barely have enough time to react before he's yanking his fingers from your mouth and landing a smack to your cheek. It almost sends you flying to the side if it weren't for his hand holding onto the other side of your face. Joel hushes you quietly when your eyes shut tightly, fire spreading across your face.

"This is for your own good, babydoll," he whispers against your forehead, pulling away to pop your cheek again, and then landing another smack to your other cheek. He shushes your pained cries again, giving you a messy, tongue-filled kiss. You can't stop crying against his mouth, snot, spit, and tears all over your face. The anguish won't diminish. It gets stronger and stronger the more Joel breaks you apart little by little.

His hands curl into your hair, tightening into fists and yanking your head back a few inches from his face. His eyes darken as he sees the fear in your beautifully broken eyes. He spits on your face once more, trailing his eyes over the artistic splatter across your nose and cheeks. His cock, still rock hard and soaking wet, hangs out of his jeans.

Joel is a patient man. In due time, you and he will finally become one. Whether you liked it or not, you were his--his to use, his to play with, his to destroy. You don't have a voice anymore. Joel Miller broke you apart with his bare hands and left you scrabbling to pick up the pieces.

taglist:

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @heyhihello-4771 @blueberrypancakesworld @codenamekitten @natalieispunk @koshkaj-blog @giowritess @beardropascal @pascaltesfaye @callmeafra @nexy00 @josephquinnswhore @baronessvonglitter @peelieblue @paanchusblog @b3bybunny @sugadolly @ktluvsmen @elliesr1fle @taeslarityy @yourgirljasmin444 @laloestoyvivo @aquanatalie @vickie5446 @cowboybootjoel @olicity-boo @ashleyfilm @withakindheartx @puduvallee @psychoenergy @chuutzuyu

[astralnymphh]

why is it always about ellie pleasuring us and never about us pleasuring her??? like I wanna edge then and then overstimulate her till she cries 👉👈

right?? like.. ugh especially with a vibrator !! mdni. mama petname used. sub!ellie. bratty behaviour. blah kind of a lazier drabble focused more on dialogue im just practicing for pccb (pretty cunt central, baby: a fic) 1.5k+ wc.

⤹ edging ellie with a vibrator ⋆ . ☣

Hung like a vignette upon her lain body, Ellie was vulnerable. Accelerated in the pump of her blood. Cold of her sweat, beading clammy condensation on her cheeks, a single bang strews itself across that muggy biome of skin— somehow looking darker as it soaks up her wet frustration. The bedspread, however, drank up a lethal amount of her crying sweat. A dull radiograph beneath her, turning lilac hue of her blanket—mauve, marking her body with a vignette of her own.

Ellie on her back, thighs broadened on each side of you, and you fully kneeling with cold toes wedged into the chub of your ass, is your position. Skimpy end of her pubic bush tickled your belly button whenever she scoots closer, eagerly trying to rub her greedy pussy on you— fuck, you cherish those little antsy movements.

"Fuckin'— unhhh— nuhnonono babe, baby.. fuck, c'mon!" her words drove on a groan, snapping into an upset whine when a certain toy was drifted from her beaming cherry clit.

Fun. Fun is what you gain from this, and it fed you with hormones to perceive it in that light. Your thumb planes plumb on a flat button, the surrounding indentation kissing your print as you let it sit softly, no vibrations to numb it.

Ellie chases your detach with her hips bucking and legs arisen, sticking out her cunt for that damn toys' bulbous head, "Mama— please, fuck.." the whine leavens, straining in her clench of stress.

She is so fucking handsome, cute— alurring with that glassy daisy nose. Buttony and speckled like a daisys lemony pistil, but glossy as a pearl washed upon a rocky cove, orb of luster on the tip to prove it. Fairest terra of her skin, has gone scarlet against the pale sand of her cupids bow, which she rolls inward to her bottom lip in even more neglect of her edging. Too fucking cute.

"Yeah, you fucking like that?" you flipped the toy on and jabbed it into her clit, provoking her hips to jerk in regret and her legs to clamp in on you— to which you dug your free hand into the plush hind of her thigh, stretching the web of your thumb and pointer, and craning that shit 'till her knee nearly kissed the mattress. Sprawled like a bitch in heat.

"Fuck fuck fuck! N— ohhh my guuh, haah—" Els bolted her eyelids to a creasing shut, scrunching up to her nose as you sunk that vibrator head in vertical drags, watching her pretty pussy lips swallow the ridge of it, "uhhhnn t'can't, cuuhh— uh!" blabbered she.

Your blabbering mess. Jolting up her pussy for you, the bulge of its aroused state really catching your eyes.

"Can't what, baby?" you coo belittleingly.

A nubby mass pushes your nude hips into her butt, thereafter you realize her heel was nudging you close, because she longs for your closeness, to be near when she cums.

Strias of breath warble from her throat, panting in dainty breaks, "Huhh— ha, uhh babe, m'wanna cum for you, cum with my pussy all over y—you, y—yeah.." her tune turns squeaky, enticing you with that weak coo, only to grow pouty and sassy, "stop be— uhhn, being a dick.."

A brow arches in amusement, "What was that?" you curl in feigned curiosity, lifting the whirring bulb with a webbing of her slick gluing from the verge of her hole to the plastic tip.

"Fuck—" a dramatic pulling of pants rise again, chest aswell, vocal chords calming, "you're just getting me back for teasing you, hmm?"

"Yes.." you spur from lying, sounding proud.

Rose buds of her lips curl in as she chugs air, gazing so doey—eyed at you through lashes sodden in faint tears. Those fucking brows curved in at the base of her nose, making her look so— dizzied, like she was about to pass.

She hikes up onto her elbows, pressing her hot buttcheeks harsh into your thighs until they splat. Ellie just knew, by the twist of your words and the crescent carving below your nose, you enjoy this. "God, you.." a sigh leaves her, cheeks inflating, "you fucking like this."

You frill, "Mhm."

"Fuck you."

Faking offense, you dusk your lids to a slit, glaring, "Scuse me?" stern with a smile, you winch a hand behind you— wrapping around another toys girth, "wanna talk t'me like that?" you press the vibrator back to her clit, swerving your other hand 'round and dipping the spade of a purple dildo into her hole— fast, stretching her lips open and bottoming 'till the small silicone balls squished her perineum.

"Shit!" yelped she, sudden lunge of her large mitt now grappling the hand on her thigh and burrowing bowed nail marks deep in your wrist, second hand clawing the cotton sleeve of her pillow.

You smack the balls hard on her wet skin, draining every bit of precum from her filthy gaping pussy— which landslides in between her ass. Drawing strings and strings from her cervix, the squelch arouses your ears, flushing them in heat.

"Yeah?" you silken a muse at her choked and elongated moans, dazzling the front of your knuckles in slick with your speed, "slutty fucking pussy, lookit' her— clenching that cock in."

It hadn't even washed over you that she was already cumming, bubbly sounds of her piped squirt swelling into your ears— thenn the little spurts come and the pooling of white cream licking up the pumping veins spatters your belly, riling you the fuck up. You didn't let up, nuh—uh, not when her raised brows, banshee—wailing mouth and ghastly eyes made you feel hot inside your own cunt, striving for overstimulation.

"Ohhh my god— huhhnn.." Ellie groaned, tatted arm flexing it's veins and yielding pigment from her fingertips.

You slipped the dick out like butter— her labia kissing closed, and slap it down on her swollen folds, noise coiling, getting her to jerk and push out more slicky finish, "There you go— good girl, cummin' for mama?" you steady the vibrator, letting it torture her convulsing clit for an.. untold range of time, whatever floats your boat.

"Uh'huh.."

Nimble as ever, you glissade the dick up her torso, crushing her slobber webbed lips with the pussy—reeked tip, "Mhm, that's right, open up babe.." asking of her with a satiny softness taking over that cold voice.

Spit drools down her chin as she caves her gob over, pupils colliding as she crosses her eyes in, "Ghh— uhhhahnn.."

"Don't talk.." you enlist a ruder tug on her clit with the vibe, forcing all that sweet syrupy cum down that throat of hers in droplets off the dick, "suck that fucking cock.."

Obeying, she rumples the plump coral skin around the thickness and drags them over the texture, pulling them out slightly. Cream white began to build at her pie—hole, cherry pie lips, a la her scarfing gags spitting everything that wanted to travel down. Little 'guh, guh, guhhs' bounced off her larynx, a fucking angel soprano to your ears.

However, she just couldn't stop thrashing. Past her point of please, were her non—verbal pleads of relief. Relief from that whirring device, rolling her butt deeper into the mattress now opposing the chase.

Ellie's quivering right arm fleets up and grabs your wrist, shanking the hell—sworn cock out of her mouth with spit connecting, messy girl, "Nonono, fhck— too much t'much 'tmuhh— ahh~" she gabbles, locking her butt up and humping up into the air void of intention.

Too much.

Too much..

Not enough.

"You know this baby," a bastion of even more pride instills your craving cunt, winding your knees smushed into the bed and crawling over her, body casting dark in your vignette, chastising "Ellie doesn't get a break 'till I cum too, 'kay?" you whisk the toy away, just for a second.

The bitter burn of tears piggyback over her bottom lids, squeezed out like orange juice and glossing like her wet and mucky slit did, both squinting at your actions. A snotty sniffle flows into her woozed words, "C—can I at least tou—uhh, touch you.. babe?" red puffy eyes gazing into yours with such want, skipping momentarily to search for any expressive sign of a reply.

"Sure baby, sit up— but don't close those fucking legs." you accept her ask, watching that ruffly—haired girl scoot up with such excitement.

Ellie sits vanward still, slouching with widely spread legs and a timid hand reaching for your cunt, the contrary paw dropping and fondling the cushion of your butt cause she just couldn't help the urge, tucking her head in the warm hearth of your neck— latching a bite so she may distract herself from what you're about to do.

You take her hand and invite it in, feeling her fingertips divide and tease your folds and her teeth nipping tiny spots of flesh into her dried chuckling mouth like a goat grazing, giving you the green light to creep the toy on her bloated bud, once more.

"I fucking love playing with you."

[star-girl69]

If You Lie Down With Me

Caroline (KK) Harvey x Fem!Reader

—-

synopsis: away game shenanigans

a/n: guys have i mentioned that i’m a genius… from this ask!! i hope you all enjoy!! this is like literally so bad i cant 😭😭

If You Lie Down With Me - Lana Del Rey

warnings: I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT COLLEGE OR HOCKEY, pls forgive me for inaccuracies 😞, texting again, phone calls blah blah, but some people might hate that so here is your warning, swearing and the usual, like mentions of kissing and some suggestiveness, cringey tik tok prank idc i think it’s cute, mentions of violence and black eyes, lmk if i missed anything!!

—-

Someone’s on top of you.

It’s early in the morning, so early that you would probably be insane to call it morning. The darkness presses around you physically, keeping your eyes shut even as an alarm you barely noticed before comes into focus- blaring loudly.

“I don’t want to go,” someone moans.

Is someone on top of you? Or is that just blankets? Or maybe it’s a physical manifestation of your exhaustion.

You open your eyes, feeling like you might actually die with just that little motion, trying to roll around and stretch- but you can’t. Yes. Someone is definitely on top you.

KK? You try to ask, but you’re so tired that the only thing that comes out is a garbled “K.”

“I don’t want to go,” your girlfriend repeats, pushing her face into your neck and wrapping her arms around your body.

Your eyes drift shut for another second, the alarm fading into the background. It takes another minute, in which KK falls back asleep on top of you, for you to fully wake up and for your brain to start working. You reach out towards the bedside table, fumbling with KK’s phone until you can finally see the alarm, the time of 4:30 A.M., and the name of the alarm-

flight at 7 wake up

“Fuck,” you gasp, trying to push your girlfriend off of you. She pouts and hugs you tighter, and all of that hockey muscle is simply dead weight when she’s asleep. “KK. KK, get up, I’m serious.”

It takes a few hard shakes, but she finally wakes up, adorable pout still stuck on her face.

“What the fuck could possibly be going on?” She groans.

“You have a game, KK. Get off of me.”

She reluctantly rolls off of you, quickly shuffling around. You would be stupid to think she’s actually getting up, so it’s no surprise when she simply presses her face into your neck and wraps her arm around your waist.

“Fuck the stupid fucking game.”

Why on God’s green earth did you agree to sleep over?

You wouldn’t call Caroline overly clingy, although her main love language is probably touch, she’s more into the little things. Hand holding, your feet in her lap when you’re sitting on the couch, arm around your waist in public- laying completely on top of you when you’re sleeping.

She’s always at her worst the day before away games, forcing you to sleep over and smiling so sweetly when she asks you can’t even think about saying no. She spends the entire night with you wrapped up in her arms, trying to soak in as much time with you as she can.

It’s horribly early on Thursday morning, and she won’t be coming back until Sunday night.

And you don’t blame her. Away games are hard, but it comes with the territory of dating a D1 athlete. She was so sweet about it when you first started seeing each other, claiming she understood if it was a dealbreaker but you knew you were too far in to say no.

You thought you could handle it, just a few nights away from her, but just doing every daily task knowing that she’s so far away from you just makes everything feel wrong. And when there’s a time difference, she’s often not just a phone call away.

Caroline, when she’s away, takes it upon herself to text and call you so much it sometimes feels like she’s never really left, until you’re on FaceTime with her at the end of the night and the sound of her voice is almost enough to make you cry, because she’s almost there with you- but not really.

She kisses the side of your neck, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

You’re going to miss her so bad. But it’s hard to remember that you’re going to miss her when you have to deal with her perpetually late self.

“Can you turn off that alarm?” Oh. You forgot to turn it off.

“KK,” you sigh. She frowns against your neck. “Get. Up.”

“Noooooo, Y/N, please. Five more minutes-”

Someone bangs loudly on the door. “Turn it off and get up!”

That grumpy voice can only belong to Laila.

They’re normally very happy people, you try to convince yourself. And normally you aren’t this cranky either- but it’s so early. And you would be lying if you said you weren’t going to miss KK too.

You slowly reach out and hit snooze on the alarm.

The blaring blessedly stops, and KK smiles and pulls you even closer to her. “Five more minutes.”

“I’m going back to sleep,” you mumble.

KK’s hand slowly runs down the side of your waist until she reaches the hem of your shirt, slipping her hand under it so her warm hand is pressed up right against your skin. You shiver a bit at the feeling, and she still hasn’t wiped that satisfied smile off of her face- you can feel it against your neck.

“Okay, baby,” she mumbles back, thumb rubbing back and forth against your skin.

She’s going to be late again, you resign. She’s going to make Laila late, and then you’ll have to listen about how bitter Laila is until they make up, and then until KK eventually makes her late again- it’s a vicious cycle.

“I’m gonna miss you,” she whispers. Fuck.

Now you miss her. You miss this slow moment already, and you haven’t even left it.

“I’m gonna miss you too. I hate away games.”

“I know,” she hums, pressing another kiss against your bare shoulder. “I hate ‘em too.”

“You gotta get up, seriously,” you say. Even if you dragged her out of bed right now, all of you know that KK is probably still going to be late, and Laila by extension. “You’re gonna get in trouble if you’re late again, babe.”

“Okay?” She scoffs. “Worth it.”

“No, actually, not worth it.”

You open your eyes at the new voice, too tired to question how the hell Lalia has silently appeared in front of you.

She pulls the blanket off KK, and you, causing you to gasp and shoot her a glare. She shoots one right back, before animatedly fake gagging at the sight of KK’s hand under your shirt and the fact she’s actively trying to burrow under your skin.

“Laila,” KK groans. You almost laugh at how much moaning and groaning there’s been this morning. “I’m saying goodbye.”

Lalia rolls her eyes before smiling wide, completely fake, sleep evident on her face. “Bye, Y/N! I love you so much, you’re the best girlfriend ever! I’m going to be so, so miserable without you and your lips and your attention-”

“I do not sound like that,” KK huffs.

“Oh, you do. Anyways, goodbye, Y/N. See? I just did it- not hard at all.”

“Y/N,” KK says.

“You do kinda sound like that,” you shrug.

“Both of you are assholes,” she says, finally letting go of you and sitting up. “I’m getting up, okay?”

Lalia stares at her expectantly, waiting for KK to actually get up.

You laugh as she mutters something under her breath, again being all pouty, probably cursing you and Laila out.

“Goodbye, my wonderful, very talented hockey players,” you sigh, waving before pulling the sheets back around you again. “Good luck!”

“Bye, Y/N!” Laila says, seemingly much more happy now that KK is at least out of bed.

KK smiles down at you before pulling the blanket over you, tucking it around you as she leans down and quickly kisses you.

“Goodnight, baby,” she whispers.

“Good morning,” you whisper back, unable to help yourself from wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her down into another kiss. When you pull away, you smile at her, feeling so in love that annoying as being away from her is, you wouldn’t trade it for anything. “Good luck, babe. Although you don’t really need it.”

You softly squeeze her bicep, knowing a good stroke of her ego is probably the best going away present you could give her.

“Call you tonight?” She whispers, not even gone yet but already planning the next time she can talk to you.

“Obviously.”

—-

hockey queen: r u alive

you: surprisingly yes

you: life is colorless without u and i can taste sounds

hockey queen: really bc i can hear tastes

hockey queen: anyways our flight landed

you: thank god. i was terrified

hockey queen: haha. u love me

you: 🧐

hockey queen: i hate u ttyl

you: ☹️

you: ☹️

you: ☹️

you: ☹️

you: it’s been 10 mins… no answer… might die

you: ☹️

you: ☹️

hockey queen: i’m not responding to people who don’t love me and don’t care about my safety

you: ily and i care about ur safety

hockey queen: and suddenly i don’t hate u anymore

—-

hockey queen: just got back to hotel

hockey queen: practice was hell

hockey queen: pls can i call u now

hockey queen: pls y/n

hockey queen: y/n

you: one sec sorry almost done w hw

hockey queen: ok cool idc

Incoming call from: hockey queen

Call Declined

you: I SAID ONE SEC

Incoming call from: hockey queen

Call Declined

you: omg i’m so serious i’ll block u

Incoming call from: hockey queen

Call Accepted

“You are literally the most annoying person I have ever met in my entire life.”

You prop up the phone against the lamp on your desk, seeing a flash of your girlfriend’s face in an otherwise dark hotel room.

“You know you love me.”

You resist the urge to say something mean back, remembering earlier today when she had ignored you for entire 10 minutes, despite your persistent sad emojis, she’ll probably be petty and hang up on you.

And you want to hear her voice.

“Yes,” you say through gritted teeth. “I love you!”

“Aw, just what I wanna hear.”

Finally, you look at the screen, seeing KK smiling widely at you, and your stomach does an embarrassing flip. That fucking smile.

You smile back, feeling heat rise to your cheeks with the way she stares at you adoringly.

“The plane ride was really pretty this morning, with the sun rise. You would have liked it a lot.”

“And to think, at the same time I was probably looking at your ceiling.”

She hums suggestively, and you roll your eyes.

“Fuckin’ freak. Ok, I’m done,” you sigh, finally setting your pen down and stretching your hand out.

You sigh, grabbing your phone as you stand up, stretching and not caring about what unattractive angle your phone is currently catching you in. You flip the lights off and climb into bed, thankful your roommate had decided that tonight she was taking an everything shower and would probably be gone for a long time.

“How was your day?” KK asks as you get into bed, holding the phone a foot in front of your face against the bed as you lay on your side.

“Hm, it was okay. Kinda boring, really.”

“Cause I wasn’t there?”

“…Yeah, sure.”

KK frowns. “You’re actually so fuckin’ mean to me. Laila too. I don’t deserve this, for real.”

“I’m teasinggggg,” you smile. “I love you. My life is miserable without you. I can barely function without you. I miss you so much it’s consuming me. I-”

“Babe, shut up.”

“So you don’t love me?”

“I love you,” she scoffs. “My roomie’s gonna be back soon, though. And I’m exhausted, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure. “I just wanted to hear your voice for just a little bit. I’m tired too.”

“I miss you,” KK says, dropping her voice to a whisper, making it sound like she’s admitting a deep dark secret.

You could tease her about how it hasn’t even been a day. But you miss her too.

“I know. I miss you, too.”

You stare at her through the screen, watching as she smiles sleepily at you, eyes drooping.

“You’re so pretty,” she says after a second.

“Maybe try telling me that when your eyes are actually open, babe.”

“Don’t need it see you to know how beautiful you are. I can feel it through the phone.” Now, her eyes are fully shut and if you were there with her, you could imagine hearing her breathing even out if your head was pressed against her chest.

“Goodnight,” you smile. “I love you. So much, baby.”

Your heart sometimes feels like it’s literally going to burst. Maybe you have an unknown heart condition, but knowing that KK loves you, the way she shows it, and just… KK. How beautiful she is. How she makes you feel and how you make her feel. Her loving you and you loving her feels so impossibly perfect. So good, so right. The feelings you get when you’re with her don’t even have words in the English language.

You feel everything with her, happy and sad and whatever- but under all of it there’s this layer of belonging, of calmness. You belong with her, to her, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You stare at the screen with a smile, that same smile slowly fading when she doesn’t answer.

“KK?”

Silence.

“Caroline. Caroline. You didn’t say I love you.”

Her sleeping face is beautiful, but you just want to hear her say goodnight and that she loves you back.

“Okay, fine. Whatever. Wait until tomorrow.”

—-

Call ended by: hockey queen

hockey queen: it was so amazing to wake up to ur drooling face on my screen this morning. felt like i was right there with you

hockey queen: we have a workout super early today but text me when u wake up pls

—-

you: super busy all day but i’ll text later

you: also i don’t drool

hockey queen: what r u doing on a friday without me

you: i have friends and school yk

hockey queen: ok be safe and call me later i miss ur face

you: look at a picture then??

hockey queen: i am rn but it’s not the same

you: u r actually so clingy when u go away it might fr be a medical problem

hockey queen: ur fault bc ur so hot 😫

you: thanks…

hockey queen: you’re welcome ❤️

When you finally get home after a busy day of lying to KK that you were out doing something, your friend in your first class had actually helped you come up with a good plan to get back at her.

You had actually forgotten about the fact she didn’t say goodnight or I love you when you woke up, but when you saw that she didn’t even say an actual “good morning” to you… would it really hurt anyone to do a harmless Tik Tok prank?

It would probably scare the shit out of Caroline, which is exactly what she deserved.

You put on your best pouty face, taking a picture with the filter on. It actually was a pretty convincing black eye.

You had kinda failed by letting yourself text her back like everything was normal, but the element of surprise was probably a good thing.

you: *picture*

you: 🤕

hockey queen: what the actual fuck

hockey queen: r u ok???

hockey queen: wtf who did this to you

hockey queen: y/n r u ok

hockey queen: text me

hockey queen: y/n

hockey queen: what the fuck happened

One missed call from: hockey queen

Two missed calls from: hockey queen

hockey queen: y/n i’m so serious answer ur phone

hockey queen: u can’t send that and then not answer

Three missed calls from: hockey queen

you: *picture without filter*

hockey queen: what

you: i’m sorry it was so funny 😂😂

hockey queen: r u serious

hockey queen: i actually hate u

hockey queen: i was so scared

you: ik it was so fucking funny i’m still laughing 😂

hockey queen: i’m blocking u don’t talk to me

hockey queen: why did u do this fr

hockey queen: i don’t deserve this

you: u forgot to say goodnight last night

you: and didn’t say good morning either

you: karma 🤷‍♀️

hockey queen: r u serious

you: deadly

hockey queen: and i’m the clingy one?? ur lucky i love u

hockey queen: ok i have to go get ready for the game but i’m calling you later just to say goodnight

hockey queen: i think u gave me a heart attack

you: aw ur so sweet 🥹

you: ok srsly goodbye ily ur gonna do amazing good luck 😘

hockey queen: thank you baby

hockey queen: ilyt

hockey queen: goodbye

hockey queen: ok make sure you see that goodbye my heart can’t take another stupid prank

you: yes ma’am i see it and no more pranks 🫡 maybe

—-

hockey queen: go to my place

you: huh

hockey queen: flight gets in at 11 ur gonna sleepover

you: so when did i agree to this

hockey queen: when i asked u to be my gf and u said yes look over ur contract

you: oh silly me i see it right here

you: “due to caroline’s excessive clinginess and obsessive tendencies, she reserves the right to force y/n to sleepover at any time”

hockey queen: 🙏

hockey queen: just go hang out at my place u can order dinner and i’ll pay

you: awww how sweet

hockey queen: i love my gf 🔥

—-

You wake up to the feeling of someone cupping your face, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. The feeling of someone hovering over you.

“Wha?” You mumble, stretching, opening your eyes into the darkness but seeing nothing. You eyes slowly start to adjust, but they don’t need to.

“Sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Caroline whispers. She smooths your hair back, and your eyes drift shut again at the calming motion. “Go back to sleep, okay? I’ll be back in a minute.”

“KK?” you ask into the darkness, mind foggy.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I missed you.”

She laughs a bit before kissing the top of your head, hand drifting down to cup your cheek again. “I know.”

You unknowingly latch onto her wrist, holding her hand in place against your face. “Come to bed,” you mutter. “I missed you.”

She softly detangles herself from you, and you feel like a child about to throw a tantrum. “One second, okay, baby? I still gotta get ready for bed, I just wanted to see you.”

You groan but let go, the darkness of her room pressing around you similarly to the morning when she left. Your mind drifts back to that, to how good it felt to wake up next to her, how utterly right. You think about how mean you’ve been to her since she left, using sarcasm to cover up the way your heart literally beats crookedly when she’s away from you.

Wow, maybe you’re the clingy one.

You think about the sound of her voice on FaceTime as she’s falling asleep, and you think about how good it will feel now right in your ear. You think about your empty bed back in your dorm, sleeping lonely even in her shirts that smell like her.

You roll over onto your stomach, blankets sliding off of you as the sound of the sink running in the bathroom makes you so fucking impatient.

“K,” you groan, deciding she’s taking too long.

“Calm down,” she whispers, voice very amused, and it feels so right when you suddenly feel the covers pull back and someone slip in next to you. She runs her hand along your upper back where her last name is printed on. “You look so sexy in my shirt.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, already half asleep again and shifting around as her arms slide around you, pressing yourself back up against her. Too tired to flip back around but still needed to be touching her as much as possible.

“Was your dinner good?” She asks, kissing your neck.

“Yeah,” you yawn. “Thank you for paying, babe.”

“Mhm,” she hums, squeezing the arm wrapped around your waist. “Come closer.”

“I am closer.”

“Fine,” she mumbles, yawning herself as she settles against you. You can hear the smile in her voice when she speaks. “Goodnight, Y/N,” she enunciates.

You almost laugh at how petty it seems to prank her for not saying goodnight.

“Goodnight, Caroline,” you say back.

Maybe you’re both just really annoying and really clingy, but when you’re wrapped around each other like this, and everything feels so perfect that you can’t even imagine her ever being away from you ever again, pieces of her always carried in your heart, you can’t be bothered.

Maybe you’ll regret this in the morning, though, when KK doesn’t let you leave her bed until noon.

—-

[ggidolsmuts]

Everflow - Everglow Yiren

Blah blah blah something something something hello! That's all you understood from the words coming out of the MC's mouth. What did your publication want from this? You're not going to complain, because hey, free business trip, but what was the point of sending someone who barely understood the language? You mingle around, not recognizing any of your fellow colleagues, but you do notice someone.

"Hello, you're here by yourself too?"

"No I'm— I mean yes, unfortunately." Said someone is dressed in a tiny black dress, tapping on her phone in a secluded corner all by herself. She gives you a lookover, before putting her phone back into her purse. "You're here alone too?"

"Yes. You're here for the event too?"

"Yes, work. You?"

"Same." You try to think what job would allow her to come to an event like this dressed like that, but she interrupts you with a question.

"Boring isn't it? How about we have some fun before the event starts?"

"What do you have in mind?" She grabs your wrist and pulls you in.

"Wrong question, you should be asking me." Her breath tickles your ear. "What will I get in you?"

You are left contemplating the correct question as she leads you away into a thankfully unoccupied bathroom. You press her against the sink, kissing a complete stranger just minutes, if not seconds ago. Your lips drift away from hers, moving down her chin, only for her to pull away slightly.

"No marks, and no time." The young woman answers the question for you, her hands going to your trousers to unbuckle them. She takes off her panties and hikes up her tight dress best she can. "Just pull out." With a hiss through gritted teeth you push into her.

"Oh, oh fuck you're big!" Your ego stroked by her words and tightness around you, you start slowly, easing in and out of her. But it doesn't last for long as she's begging you to get her off, adding a lot of wetness to your connection.

"More please, faster, faster!" Your lady friend braces herself against the sinktop, nails almost breaking as she grips the cold marble. With how big you are she can feel every vein and texture of your tool inside her, and it feels so fucking good. The pleasure builds up too quickly, and she has to bite her lip to stifle a scream. "MMMMMMPH!" She bites the back of her hand and muffles it best she can. The lights in the bathroom are blurry and spinning when she opens her eyes again.

"Yiren? Yiren are you there?"

"Oh shit, I have to go!" To your bewilderment your short-lived fling pushes you away, quickly pulling her dress back down before leaving you in the lurch. Your dick is no more than a panty holder, the two things left dangling in the bathroom. You quickly grab her underwear off the countertop, and briefly deliberate finishing yourself; you decide not to once you look around and find no urinals in the bathroom. You zip up best you can, groaning at the tightness of your crotch area and dampness of your trousers—she had squirted all over you and you're still hard.

"Please welcome to the stage, Everglow's Yiren!" You are left dumbfounded as you watch the woman you were several inches in earlier walk on stage, going commando unbeknownst to everyone else in the audience.

"Hello, I'm Yiren!" She presses her legs together, making sure to not accidentally flash anyone. Her thighs feel uncomfortably wet, but Yiren doesn't have time to consider things while she's on stage, so she focuses on interacting with the MC and the crowd, saying nice things and looking pretty. After her job is complete, Yiren disappears from your sight for a while, but you soon find her trying to find you.

"Hey, do you have my clothing?"

"Your clothing? Miss Yiren, what do you mean?" you ask jokingly, pulling out the thin fabric of Yiren's underwear briefly before she shoves it back in your pocket.

"Not here!"

"I agree, you finished your job on stage, you should finish your other job too. I won't ask you to wash my pants though."

"What?"

"You made a mess all over them, utterly drenched."

"I didn't— I don't, you know, do that."

"My pants and the puddle the poor janitor has to clean later will disagree, but I have more pressing concerns." Yiren blushes, but she doesn't back away from you. She looks around, making sure that the two of you wouldn't be observed leaving the event.

"Fine, I have a room in the hotel, let's go there."

There is more than the two of you in the elevator up, so when Yiren lets you into her room you kick the door closed and wrap your arm around her tiny waist right away.

"You left me really high and dry, well, not dry, but hanging."

"Tch, that's why you're here now no?" Yiren is mildly annoyed at your constant reference to her squirting, and she shuts you up by undoing your trousers. The pretty face on stage doing her job earlier is now a pretty face on her knees doing a blowjob as she pulls your boxers down and pushes her lips over your cock. Yiren clearly wanted to get it over with, and you were edged enough earlier that you give in easily, your knees buckling as she wraps her tongue around your shaft and coaxing your time-delayed release down her throat.

"Looks like you're the only one squirting," she jabs you after wiping her mouth.

"We can go back there and take a look, if you're someone that likes to return to the scene of their 'crime'."

"I-I don't! But I don't squirt either!"

"Prove it, go ahead and touch yourself. It'll give me time to get hard again too." You dangle the (or rather, your) carrot in front of Yiren, and it is enticing—she remembers how good it felt in the bathroom earlier, and she would not mind a round two regardless.

"Fine." You watch Yiren slip out of her little black dress, her pale skin nicely matching the white sheets she gets on. A hand slips between her legs, but she keeps them closed.

"Open your legs, don't want you squirting and then trying to hide it." Yiren glares at you, but her knees part slightly, showing you her finger lightly rubbing her clit. You nod and have her continue, and Yiren's eyes close. Her legs begin to splay open as she continues rubbing herself, but she doesn't speed up, her other hand merely fondling her small breasts as you watch her climb. Her movements are small but practiced, no doubt how she touched herself back at the dorms—she needed to be quiet, to not be noticed, just enough to get her over the edge.

"Mm!" A small squeak, and her legs relax on to the bed. "I— I came, see, no squirting." Yiren cheeks are pink, but she glares at you to prove her point. She had just given herself a "light" orgasm, a "light" on the malatang spiciness scale—just enough to leave her senses tingling, but not nearly satisfying enough. Which is why you were here in the first place.

"If that's how you touch yourself I'm not surprised."

"How dare you— I'd like to see you try!" Yiren tries to be outraged, but her eyes are glued on your recovered hardness.

"Oh I plan to. I'll make sure you can't stop squirting." A warmth goes through her body as you lay a large hand on her hip—you hadn't touched her quite like this, skin-on-skin contact, in the bathroom earlier.

"You can try, but if you don't, and you won't, I'm not going to help get you off again even if I cum."

"You're going to blue ball me again?" you ask even as Yiren unbuttons your shirt. She unconsciously licks her lips as she takes in your naked body.

"Hey, that time was out of my control, unless you wanted us to get caught! But yes, if you really think you can make me do it, you should put something on the line." She draws you in, her lips inches from yours. She smells like strawberry.

"Fine, you should put something on the line too."

"Like what?"

"If I make you squirt, I get to use you until you stop squirting, you don't get to say stop."

"I have—" Yiren stops herself. She had a flight out tomorrow morning, but did she really think it would go that long? No, no it wouldn't. "Never mind, yes, that's fine." She agrees without further thought, pulling you in for a hungry kiss. She wants to get off on you again, and even if she did squirt by some miracle, it'd be a one-off, and she could still ditch you after by faking an orgasm. Yes, that'd be the play. So Yiren lets herself relax the first round, feeling you up with her wandering hands.

"You like what you see?"

"Yes, otherwise I wouldn't have led you to the bathroom earlier."

"I'm glad, let me get started then." Without a further word Yiren feels two fingers on her belly drag themselves down between her legs. They felt huge, each as large as one of the toys she would use occasionally.

"Wait— Ah!" You plunge two fingers into her and start fingerfucking her. Yiren merely rubbed her clit earlier, ramping up the pleasure slowly, and then doing just enough to tip her over. If her masturbation was a "light" orgasm, you want to make this one "explosive". Her head snaps back as you dig around her roughly, feeling for her g-spot, and finding it when she reacts abruptly—a sharp moan, a clench of her walls, and a hand on your arm, trying to ward you off.

No, wait! Everything is happening too fast for Yiren to process—she's being rubbed in an area she never reaches herself, and your thumb is too demanding, pressing and tapping on her clit like an impatient customer demanding a waiter to serve him water. Her hand is on your arm, jerking along with your rough movements, she needs to push you away, yet she can't summon the strength, the fingers inside her feel so good, too good. A warmth floods her body when she senses a fingerpad on her nipple, adding another sensation to her overloaded senses.

"Mmmmmmm!" Yiren snaps, covering her mouth with a raised arm. Yet there's no covering her lower mouth as you remove your fingers, and all the "overload" in Yiren squirts out, spraying your arm with clear slick, her juices served on a platter. She twitches and trembles on the bed, her toned tummy drumming up and down on the bed as she rides out her intense climax. Her vision white and breathing deeply, Yiren takes a while to open her eyes again, and to her dismay she sees your hand, liquid dripping off your fingertips.

"You squirted."

"J-Just this once." You took that as a challenge.

Not what I meant! Yiren throws her head back again as you bury your head between her legs, your tongue an utterly foreign and delightful muscle against her wetness. Your tongue wriggles past her lips, and Yiren has to plant her hand over your head. Presumably she wants you to stop moving, to give her time to recover, but all that happens is her tensing up, forcing your head harder against her pussy. Your arms hook around her thighs, and you continue to eat her out even as her hips move every which way. All the movement makes you bump against her clit repeatedly, and soon, rather than trying to get away from you, Yiren's just rotating her hips without purpose, grinding her crotch against your face as she chases her orgasm.

Fuck, why does it feel so good?! She bemoans the pleasure. Your teeth grazes against her swollen clit, and Yiren yells. When you wrap your lips around the nub and suck, Yiren screams, a surge of lightning going up her spine before rushing out of her pussy, splashing her juices all over your chin. You quickly place your mouth over her pussy to drink up the rest of it, making a point of wiping your mouth when she has her eyes open again.

"You taste delicious."

"S-Shut up. When are you going to fuck me hmm? You won't get to get off if I don't squirt the next time." Yiren sees you smile, and you silently get up to move her around the bed. She finds herself facing the mirror, and before she knows it you're behind her, her back pressed against your chest. She had prepared herself to get on all fours, but to her surprise you've made her sit and pushed her legs open, your own legs keeping her spread lewdly. Your head dips to her ear, and she shivers against you when you whisper.

"I'm not worried. Besides, I thought you might want to watch yourself squirt. Maybe then you'll admit it."

With your legs locking hers in place, Yiren watches your hand go down her body. She keels against you when you slide two fingers into her once more. This time thankfully you don't focus on her g-spot, drawing your digits out soon after. Maybe I can— Yiren yelps as you slam your fingers back in, and with your body bracing Yiren, she can't back away, it just makes your fingers get even deeper into her. I can't, I can't! Your palm strikes against her clit every time you thrust your fingers into her. She's already close again, and even Yiren knows she's going to squirt.

"Look in the mirror." Yiren forces her eyes open, and you hook her own legs a little further back, spreading her out even more. Her glossy eyes watch your hand go even faster in and out of her, there's no way she can stay watching it—

"Nngaaah!" A wild yell escapes her, her mind on a different plane of reality as she watches herself through the mirror. The Yiren in the mirror throws her hips off the bed as the hand pulls back, and it is a gush of juice that explodes out of her pussy. Not just a singular gush too—over and over Yiren bucks her hips off the bed, each firing off their own jet of squirt. The lithe girl is trembling and sweating, the sheets beneath her soaked with all kinds of fluids.

"God you're such a perfect squirter..." your whispers rouse Yiren from her stupor, and she sees herself in the mirror, droplets of her own girlcum splattered across the face looking back.

I-I'm not a squirter! Am I? Doubt sets in on Yiren. And your sinful words don't help at all.

"You've been holding back on yourself, holding back on me, this whole time. You should see yourself squirt again."

"N-No, I don't want to, don't want to watch!" You grin and push Yiren's legs together, before hooking your arm under her legs and pulling them up. Her back pressed against you, you pull her legs towards her chest, folding Yiren in half, and now she's staring at her knees instead of the mirror.

"Fine, just listen then." In the folded position Yiren can barely catch her breath as you strum on her clit, and in her overstimulated state she wails before going silent in orgasm. She squirts once more, and despite being unable to see the mirror, Yiren hears the spray land heavily on the mirror, each drop a thunder in her ears.

"Did you squirt then?" you ask her, and she blushes and tries to shy away from you.

"Yes."

"Are you a squirter?"

"N-No."

"Not admitting it yet?" You release your hold on her, letting her flop on to the bed as you roll on top of her. "I am going to fuck you now."

"No!" She pushes you away in a hurry. "I mean, let me be on top."

"If you want." You get on your back, and Yiren clambers on top of you. Gone is her prettily coiffed hair and makeup, replaced with a disheveled, sweaty, and drained look. She has been pushed to her limits tonight, the pleasure and forbidden sensation of squirting driving her insane, yet she's desirous for more. Any idea of faking an orgasm to just get out of the deal is gone from her head—she wants to cum, and she wants to not squirt to prove a pointless point.

Even after all of your handiwork on her pussy, it still doesn't compare to how full you feel inside her, and Yiren moans deliriously as she hilts herself on you. This is it! She cries in her head, immediately beginning to grind her hips on you.

"You like my cock don't you?"

"I, uhhnngh, I love it!" Her hands are on your chest, and she squeezes your pecs as she grinds. Yiren's head is spinning as the pleasure she had felt in the bathroom quickie earlier returns, your shaft rubbing all the right spots along her drenched walls. But I can't squirt! She forces herself to slow down her movements, denying herself some of the pleasure, to hopefully bring herself to a small orgasm rather than another wet one.

You see through her thoughts immediately as she shuts her eyes, brows furrowed in concentration.

"Why are you going slow Yiren?"

"You know why, damn it!"

"Is that why you wanted to be on top? So you can control the pace?"

"Yes, oh fuck!" she whines as she unfortunately finds the perfect angle to fuck herself on you.

"You do know that I can just hold you there and thrust upwards right? I can make you squirt all over my cock whenever—" You put one hand on her waist. "I—" You put your other hand on her waist, and Yiren freezes, as if waiting for you to just do as you say, to just ruin her with another squirting orgasm. "Want, but I won't." You let go of her, and Yiren's too stunned to speak momentarily. You smirk at her undulating body though, unconsciously beginning to move in circles again.

"W-Why did you st— Why not?"

"I want you to make yourself squirt. I can make you do it anytime, but can you?"

"I don't want to! I won't!"

"Are you sure? I can feel you clenching around me, are you thinking about how it would feel when you squirt again? Thinking about how I would do it?"

"No!"

"I would grab your tiny little waist, and then I would jam you down as I thrust up, god I would get so deep in you. You squirted before in the bathroom, there's no way you won't squirt again."

"No, not this time!" Yiren can't see you grin as she begins to lose her mind—she finally admits to squirting in the bathroom earlier.

"And then I would roll you over so I can properly fuck you, and I won't stop until you admit you're a squirter, and then make you squirt again and again."

"I won't say that— mmmm!" As you argue with Yiren her hips begin to move with a mind of their own, moving faster and faster. Her moans rise in pitch as she finds the perfect angle again and again. Stop Yiren, you need to stop! A little inner voice begins to shout, but it is fighting against the tidal roar of another orgasm.

Yiren don't! It is far too late.

"I can't, I'm sorry, NO—" Yiren wails loudly and begins to give in.

Schlick

"What are you sorry about Yiren?"

"I— I'm going to cum!"

Schlick Shlop

"Are you going to squirt on my cock?"

"Mmm, mmm!" She tries to shake her head, but she's bouncing on your cock, and she ends up nodding comically instead.

"Say it!"

Schlick Shlop Shlosh

"I'm— Ohh I'm going to, I'm going to nngh... I'm squirting—" The rest of it devolves into unintelligible groans as Yiren's control is washed away. You have to focus on not cumming with Yiren as she contracts around you, but you still feel your balls get drenched in her warm fluids, and the added squelch you now hear from Yiren's movements finish her original sentence—Yiren has flooded your connection with her juices and squirted all over your cock. You hold Yiren and roll the two of you, switching positions and making the twitching idol squirt a little more in the process.

"You really are a huge squirter aren't you?"

"Don't move, please don't move yet!" Yiren clings on to you, her walls still clenching around you as she rides out the last waves of her peak. "I-I'm a squirter, ok? I admit it."

"Good, then I don't want you to hold back. I'm going to fuck you, and I want you to tell me when you're squirting."

"Mm, ahh!" You start moving as soon as Yiren squeaks her understanding. As if finally unblocked and unchained, she throws her head back, moaning loudly when you thick rod runs itself in and out of her.

It's too good, it's so good— "Ugh I'm cumming!" It only takes a few thrusts for the overstimulated Yiren to cum again, and psshh you pull out, a jet of liquid spraying your stomach. As soon as she's done you plunge back in, pumping Yiren for her next gush.

"Ohhh yes!" Tears leak out from Yiren's eyes as she bucks her hips and squirts again. She can't believe how good it feels to squirt, the warm juices evidence of her own extreme pleasure. How can she ever go back to her feeble masturbation, how can she go "dry" again? She's shouting herself hoarse, but she doesn't even care if the whole floor hears her scream.

"I'm squirting again!"

"You're such a fucking hot squirter," you growl, driving into her faster and harder, chasing your own orgasm as you fuck Yiren to several squirting orgasms, each loudly announced. Your bodies are covered in sweat and slick, droplets of each splattered all over your violent forms.

"Guhnngh!" Yiren's brow contracts as you nudge at her cervix on an extra-deep thrust, and her walls clench around you violently as you nudge her again and again and again. "God— guh, uh, uh, nngh!" She feels your tip press on her womb firmly, and she loses all control.

"FUCK!" You pull out just in time, and your load fires up her body, splattering Yiren all the way to her neck. Yiren's world goes white, just as white as your load covering her while she explodes in her wettest orgasm yet. Her first blast hits you square in the chest, and the following jet sprays cover your entire torso. By the time her hips finally stop bucking, her entire body is flush in exertion and completely limp below you, as if every last bit of strength in her has been expelled in the form of girlcum all over your body.

Not caring about the mess you collapse on top of her, feeling Yiren quivering beneath you. The two of you take long minutes to recover, and you are the first to manage to put together a sentence.

"We should clean up," you whisper. But she shakes her head.

"I-I can't move." Her limbs still feel weak and numb, the pleasure nerves in her head still firing. You half carry and half drag Yiren into the shower, turning the hot water on and letting it wash over the two of you. But you're not done with Yiren yet.

"No..." Yiren feels your hand go between her legs, and she braces herself against the shower wall. A few rubs on her sensitive nub, and a weak flow of slick trickles down her leg before joining the shower water down the drain.

"You can end this now," you whisper in her ear, and Yiren finally realizes what you mean—in the shower she can just lie, say she didn't squirt, and you would end the session. You continue rubbing her slit, feeling Yiren tense in a weak orgasm, and her juices spray over your fingers weakly.

"I-I didn't squirt there." You look Yiren in the eyes, and they are round and tired, eager for rest.

"I see, I failed then. We're done." She slumps against the wall, sliding down to the floor. You sit down next to her, gently shampooing and soaping her up (to small overstimulated whimpers), helping Yiren finally get clean before quickly washing up yourself.

"Can you get up?" Yiren nods, standing up like a baby deer as you hand her a towel and give her a robe after. She hugs you tightly as the two of you exit the bathroom, her head buried in your chest—she's sobbing into it, overcome with emotion at what just happened tonight.

"Yiren?"

"I'm so embarrassed, I don't know what to say."

"I had a wonderful time tonight, thank you. I won't say anything about tonight to anyone."

"Okay, thank you. I umm, I have to leave tomorrow morning."

"So do I, you should rest as much as you can, and drink lots of water."

"Right..." Yiren blushes at the comment, and you feel her get warm against you as the two of you survey the water damage—Yiren has likely soaked the mattress, the sheets clinging to it translucently. "Oh god how am I going to explain this, what if the hotel finds out?"

"They'll keep quiet, that's what they're paid to do. Just say you spilled a pot of water or something and that you're very sorry."

"I'll try that."

"Yes, good. I should go, I'll let you rest." You gently dislodge Yiren from your arm, but she's clingy.

"I-I never felt like that before, it never feels that good."

"I'm glad, now you know what's possible. Next time, you should have a towel when you do it yourself."

"No, I want to see you again." Yiren's eyes are wide and twinkling—she's putting the idol charm on you, the little firecracker you fucked in the bathroom coming back strong.

"Fine, here's my business card. Don't risk it, remember we almost got caught earlier," you remind her.

"I will worry about that. It's my neck on the line." You chuckle and shake your head, giving her a goodbye hug and getting a goodbye peck in return.

You return to Korea separately from Yiren, and you don't expect to hear from her for a while—she is an idol after all.

Ding! Or not.

I'm off next Wednesday, can I see you then?

Well, at least that day's weather forecast settled.

Wet.

A/N: I wrote this purely because I wanted to do an "Everglow/flow" pun lol and wanted to use that little black dress pic of hers, thanks for reading!

[uzurimisery]

the space between two bodies. / satosugu x reader / part 1

Warnings: MDNI, happy ending, angst, cheating (not really this is explained in part 2), unhealthy relationships/coping mechanisms, suicidal ideation, depression, smut, no sorcery au, unedited

A/N: I started thinking about Gojo with anxiety and nihilist Geto and then what that looks like in a poly relationship with someone as flawed as they are

“We’re sorry but we’ve decided to go with another candidate now. We will retain your information on file should a more suitable role open up.” 

The email stared back at you, the words on your phone screen blurring as droplets of rain hit it as you read it over for the hundredth time. Today was just another shitty fucked up day in the endless string of shitty fucked up days that had become your life. The third consecutive month of unemployment in a row. At least previously you could get temp jobs but now each day that passed just ate away at you with how useless you felt. 

Pocketing your phone, you pull out a 100 yen coin and put it in the vending machine.

You didn’t even like your old job but Jesus it was like no one was actually hiring. And when you did get an interview, you’d get ghosted afterward. On the rare occasion they didn’t ghost you, you’d receive a rejection letter like this one. It was preferable, you supposed, that your existence and effort were at least acknowledged, no matter how much it stung. Still hurt like a bitch to be told you weren’t good enough. 

Anything would be better than this, fuck you’d take being overworked and underpaid if it felt like you were doing something. This endless cycle of gnawing uncertainty and applications, interviews, followed by rejections. Worse than that you were out of deodorant and trying to find some in Japan was a Herculean effort. 

Yeah, it’s been a shit go and you’re fucking exhausted.

Maybe you’d go be an English teacher like everyone else who moves to Japan. You wouldn’t need a co-teacher so the pay would be better if you were just starting out. Not that you wanted to teach again dear god that was less than ideal. Thank god you had settled status. The thought of having to deal with visa issues at the same time made you feel sick. 

Maybe you could work at a host club. You turned, staring at your reflection in the glass. Your boobs weren’t half bad as you pushed them up from the underside like a push-up bra would. Or sell feet pictures. The market was probably oversaturated at this point but maybe there would be some interest.

Wait Jesus had your hair looked like that all day? Fuck. No wonder that girl kept staring at you on the train she thought you were a lunatic.

Sighing you press the button for 4H. It wasn’t like you’d always been this way, sort of drifting in a sea of uncertainty abroad your boat of doubt with no wind to guide your sails. There was a period of time, maybe a five-year stretch after you had graduated from university where your life was on track. An entry-level job in your degree field, a long-term boyfriend turned fiance, wedding planning, and a great group of friends. Shit, you had it all. 

The fiance was the first to go. 

As it turns out, finding your fiance in bed with the girl he swore you didn’t have to worry about, his tongue halfway down her throat like he’s trying to do an endoscopy, is a terrible way to find out you’re being cheated on. When he noticed you standing in the doorway he had the gall to sputter some bullshit about how it was your fault it happened. You were too focused on your work, you didn’t give him attention, blah, blah, blah. It was you who broke the relationship up by working so much and being married to your job. And as he paid for the overpriced four-bedroom apartment in an area of Tokyo that you didn’t even like, you lost the apartment in the breakup. 

You couldn’t slum dog millionaire your life away on Shoko and Utahime’s couch forever eating tubs of ice cream and binging TV after that, so everyone told you, or rather forced you, to move in with Suguru and Satoru. Bouncing around from couple to couple. It did give you some stability and just as things go up so must they come down. 

The company you were working for was liquidated after an investigation by the federal government found years of tax fraud. Luckily they got bought out, and you thought maybe if you put in work you could still climb the ladder. But all those late nights in the office, conbini dinners, and unpaid overtime, you were just another name on a severance list.

It felt like waves were crashing over you, each one larger than the rest. Almost like you were tied to a dock during a hurricane, a tsunami, or some fucking natural disaster that threatened to drown you if you didn’t hold onto something but there wasn’t much to hold on to. You could hold onto the minuscule amount of friendships that you had at least. It was far too awkward and messy to keep up with anyone else other than your main four since the rest were so tied to your ex-fiance and his life. Stupid fucking lawyer. 

The four of you were close-ish. Less close since Shoko had gone on rotation at a university on the other side of Tokyo. It meant she and Utahime had moved nearer to it since Utahime was willing to commute. But Suguru and Satoru were still close with you and still dating.  Biting as that felt at times. 

You met Geto first in a shared philosophy lecture. One of those run-of-the-mill ones, but the content that really got the two of you talking was nihilism. It was the seminar groups after class you shared where he really saw you. Stripped away of pretenses and your nerves laid bare. Not just another face in a lecture hall but something more, something human. The deep indents of nails in your palms and the rubbing of your hands together under the table. He had seen right through you, recognized the darker parts of himself in you- it made you feel understood.

The machine made a mechanical noise and the lights flickered. Sighing you kick the machine lightly to see if anything happens, if life could give you this one thing today that you so desperately needed. Just like everything else, nothing goes your way and your stupid drink stays logged on the shelf. So like every reasonable person you kick the machine again. 

“Stupid fucking piece of shit machine,” you murmur a growing string of profanities under your breath as you repeatedly kick the machine

.

All you wanted was one of those ¥100 coffee drinks that were loaded with caffeine to keep going through your slog of a day was that so hard? Maybe it would be best if you just packed it up and called it quits. Move back home with your parents and be berated daily. Why aren’t you married? Why did you and Kosuke break up? When are they going to get some grandchildren? They aren’t getting any younger you know. Face the cutting shame of fucking up another opportunity, another chance. 

What was the point in trying anymore when you couldn’t even get a stupid drink that you don't honestly even want at this point out of a vending machine so you can go home and masturbate to audio porn before you cry yourself to fucking sleep? 

Suguru’s voice cut through the spiral of thoughts, your name on his lips. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you had an interview and you’d be home late?” 

Of course, he’d catch you like this. 

“Hey Sugs,” it came out as a groan as you kicked the machine again, a loud clang following as your drink hit the bottom of the dispenser. Bending down, you grab the can before turning and facing him. “I did.” 

“How’d it go?”

“Like shit.” Maybe you should work on your delivery. This flat effect is really making you should like a bitch. Are you a bitch? 

Geto’s eyes raked over you, infuriatingly calm and measured. He was always so carefully disheveled, the type of person to look effortlessly put together no matter the occasion. Stupid name-brand black sweater over a white button-down half tucked into chinos with a chain on the belt. His hair, shiny and perfect, was neatly tucked into his signature half-up-hald-down look to keep the strand out of his eyes, minus the one for style. Notably, he was wearing his glasses for once, sleek frames perks on a tall nose. Oh, he smelt nice too, his sandalwood and bergamot cologne hitting you as he stepped closer, extending his umbrella to cover the two of you. Fuck he was so handsome it wasn’t fair.

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Geto replied softly.

You shrugged, trying to brush it off. “ It is what it is.”

But the reality of it clung to you and drug you down, down, down into the depths of your psyche. That small, scared feeling you tried so hard to suppress started bubbling up again, twisting your insides into knots. It made you feel sick, so much like a lost little child in a world that had grown far too big and complex. Here it was, rearing its ugly head, in front of one of the top ten people you never wanted to see in such a shit state.

But that's all Gojo and Geto do at this point. They pick up the broken, crumbling pieces of yourself that slip between your fingers. You feel like a cracked vase leaking water all over the place no matter how desperately they try and patch up the ceramic. Each day the gap between you and them grows more apparent. They were both soaring and you were falling to the ground and rolling around in the mud. 

Geto had just done a four-page spread in Architects Digest, even though he was a pretentious motherfucker who hated the magazine. And Gojo… God, he’d just opened for Prada at Paris Fashion Week. They went viral on every social media platform a while back for how hot and gay they were. You’d been caught in the crossfire of your accounts being tagged and gained a social media boost, but that also meant a bunch of people DMing you telling you to take pictures of them. 

The most fucked up thing about it all was the gnawing feeling that chewing on your bones that you were being dragged around like an accessory to remind them how good they had it. A permanent third wheel they’ve been stuck with since university. Two talented lovers on the brink of permanent importance and their weird little friend who follows them along like a lost puppy. It wasn’t even true and that's why it hurt so much. You knew they believed in you, thought that you could be a successful artist, and supported you in it even, but the jealousy rotted inside you like a festering wound. You weren’t even jealous of their success, only just partial, but it was like you weren’t good enough to be around them. 

Maybe you were better off as wall decor in the life they were building together. Something quiet and serene that didn’t demand anything from them. Better that than the bitter, jealous mess you were every time you saw them succeed.

He starts, the same spiel he goes to when you get like this. “You can always-”

“No.” your voice comes out sharper than you intended, but you don’t care. 

“I don’t know why you act like it’s such a bad off,” Suguru presses, his calm demeanor only pissing you off more.  

“I don’t want to work for you.” 

“Why not.” 

You snap. “Because I don’t want to, Suguru! Is that so hard to understand?”

Fuck, you wanted to storm off, go back to the house, and slam the door behind you as you went. But it didn’t matter if you stormed off, you lived in one of his guest bedrooms. Both of you were just headed to the same place. Sad little rescue that you were.

Suguru assessed, his eyes softened, breaking you down. He picked out every one of your insecurities as he stared at you. Microscopic inspection, each of your cells was being assessed for your state of being. Have you eaten? Was it enough? Had you slept? Are you even capable of taking care of yourself in this state? 

The weight of his gaze made your chest tighten, and before you could control it, try and reel it back in, tears welled up in your eyes. Blinking them back, you swallowed hard, the lump in your throat bobbing as you did. You hated this. Hated the way his care, his pity, felt like a knife twisting in the last remaining shred of pride you clung to. 

Pity was the killy of pride and you should accept that your pride was already decomposing in the septic tank in the backyard. 

Fuck up, fuck up, fuck up. All you ever were, all you’d ever be. Every loose thread of your shirt feels like it's cutting against your skin. The hem of your trousers drowns your feet like you're wearing your parents' clothes. Shabby. Uncouth. Inept. 

Wordlessly, you turned on your heel and fled, rushing out of the side street as the tears spilled past your lash line. You couldn’t do this anymore--no more questions, no more pity. No matter how hard you tried, how hard you struggled, clawed your way through the fucking dirt, you could never be like them. Never be good like theme, never right like them, never fit like them. They had these perfect little lives that they could boast to everyone about. When they spoke, people listened. People cared what they had to say. The world parted for them, it was the Red Sea and they were Moses, making space. There’d always be room for them to shine. 

But you were screaming into a void, your throat raw, bloody, and you were aching from the endless effort to be seen, to be heard. You wanted to be looked at like your own person, your own successes. Hard to be noticed for something that rarely happened. No matter how loud you screamed, how much you begged, your voice was just lost in the noise. 

You knew Suguru would follow. He always did. Even if you didn’t live in the same house, he’d have followed you. His voice was muffled by the pressure in your ears but you could hear him trying to talk to you. He let you get all the way home and inside the gate of the house before he grabbed your wrist and yanked you backward. 

Trying to pull away, your shoulder wrenched painfully as you trashed in his grip. 

“Calm down,” Suguru spoke firmly, pulling you into his chest. His sweater was soft, and your face smushed against the fabric as sobs wrecked your body, trembling like the earth in an earthquake.

It was hard to speak through the tears, so all you could do was try and slip out of his hold as you sobbed. You didn’t want this comfort. You wanted to run from your failure. From how suffocating life felt and that no matter what you'd never be enough. Worse than that, the sweet sickly feeling that trickled down your throat that when he held your life this, it made the world feel just a little bit more bearable. As if somewhere you could survive another day if he kept touching you. It wasn’t yours to feel and he wasn’t yours to hold. 

Suguru lets you wiggle around. You hit his torso a few times, your strength fading as you cry. When your sobs turned to hiccups and gasps for breaths, he gently cupped your face, thumbs brushing away the tears that still spilled from your eyes. 

“Talk to me,” he said softly, barely above a whisper. The songs of a city nearly eclipsing it. 

What could you say? How could you explain this feeling? This horrible guilt, pain, and jealousy ate away at you every single day. The tears came harder now, speeding up as if to help drown you in your misery and take you out of it for good. Hiccuping you drew breath, sharp and quick, hoping to speak but nothing comes out. Words claw at your throat, digging it with sharpened points. It hurts the way they hang onto you.

“Is it all too much again?” His voice is so soft, warm like fleece pajamas fresh out of the dryer as he holds you so delicately.

This wasn’t the first time that one of the three of you had been so consumed by dread, suffocated by the weight of life itself. Suguru knew it all too well himself, from high school to know he held it tightly in his hands. It never went away from him, he just learned to live with it, let it fade into the background, and let a constant hum of despair serve as the baseline for the day-to-day. 

His thumbs brush over the apex of your cheekbones again and the tenderness shatters you, another wave of sobs tearing through you. They pull you under, out into the open ocean, and through their rip current.

“I just..” you start, it scratches your throat, thick with phlegm. “ I can’t do this anymore.” 

His voice remained steady. “Do what?” 

“Any of it. I can’t do it.” 

“You’re capable of it. You can do it.” 

Jarring, rough, whipping across your skin as the rubber band pulls too tight and snaps. You lash out, and it stings where it hits. The anger cuts through your skin like your fingernails leave crescent moons in your palms. 

“No, I fucking can’t!” It's ripped out of you as you stalk away like a wounded animal. “I can’t okay. I can’t do shit. I can’t keep a relationship without being cheated on. I can’t manage to get my own place. I can’t get a fucking job. I can’t sit here and pretend like I’m not fucking wasting away in my own misery watching you and Gojo and Shoko all succeed and be the only one of us still shooting for the stars and coming crashing down to earth every single fucking time. You and Gojo with your perfect little lives look at me like a charity case to be fixed.”

“We have never looked at you like a charity case.” His tone was firm.

“Really? Then what the fuck do you look at me like, huh?” You press the question circling back around. “Is it pity? Did the two of you see some poor stray that you wanted to take in and keep like a pet when we met at university? Is that it?” 

His eyes were hard, unreadable.

“It is that. You pity me.”

“Jesus, no! We don’t pity you- I don’t pity you! Is it so hard to believe that I care about you?”

“Yes, it is! There’s no reason for you to care,” 

“What the hell wouldn’t I care?” Suguru’s voice raised to a shout, frustration cracking his facade. 

“Because I’m just like everyone you hate!” Your chest heaves as you let out a flood of emotions. “ No ambitions, contributing nothing to society, just leeching off others.” 

“You’re not like them.” 

“I am. On paper, I’m exactly like them. The only reason that you’d keep me around is because it makes you feel good to watch me suffer or you pity me.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t pity you?” His voice cracked with emotion, but you didn’t stop.

“Then tell me why you care!” It comes out so desperately. You're begging him for understanding, to know why he stays. To know why he lets you in.

For once he looked uncertain. His mask slipped, revealing the cracks in his facade. It’s been so long since you’ve seen underneath it you’d almost forgotten how he looked when he wasn’t pretending to be happy. 

“Or is it that you don’t care?” 

Something flashed in his eyes, flickerings of things you only saw when he looked at Gojo. He opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. There's a fear in his eyes, like if he acts in this moment something may crack and crumble like the foundation of a house that leaves him crumpled in a pile of wood. He doesn’t, or won’t, give you an answer. 

So you turn on your heel, the conversation over in your mind, and head to the front door. You’ll go up and pack a bag before heading across town and crashing on Shoko and Utahime’s couch before calling your parents and groveling to them. 

But as you reach the door, Suguru reaches you. His arm wraps around your waist and he spins you around and pushes your back against it. He’s got you pinned. 

“It’s because I love you.” It’s the faintest breeze that passes from his lips, like a car driving past on a hot day, sweat making your shirt stick to you. “I care because I love you.”

Everything is frozen in a still frame. Neither one of you moves, neither one of you breathes. A still moment that holds you tight, threatens to squeeze you so tightly your heart bursts. 

“What do you mean by that?” You swallow as you speak, like pebbles in your throat. 

Suguru blinks back tears, looking up and then back at you. “That I love you. Fuck! I’m in love with you.” 

Disbelief makes your voice shake. “No, you’re not not. You’re with Satoru.” 

“And? I can’t love both of you?” 

“No, you can’t,” Hypocrisy tastes acrid on your tongue. You know damn well you could never pick between the two of them, that this blighted jealousy you feel towards them is more the fact they have the other rather than their success. It’s something you don’t admit but it’s there. “Besides, you’re lying to me.”

“No.” His response was firm and immediate. The whole time you’d known them, their worlds had revolved around each other. They’d been the only thing for each other for so long. It was an unspoken truth that they were made for each other in a way that could only be sewn by the fabric of the universe itself. Something so profoundly and divinely created it had been written in the fabric of life at the moment of the Big Bang. 

“I’ve seen you watching.” Suguru’s tone is low, cutting, it vibrates through you as he has you pinned. 

A sick, icy dread wraps around your spine. It starts in your toes and crawls up your body. Your muscles lock in place as it climbs up until it's all the way in your head. Paralyzing fear grips you.

“I don't…” The lie is transparent before it comes to fruition. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It’s brittle, cracking on your teeth as it passes through them.

“Don’t play innocent.” Suguru’s voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. The tension between you tightens and winds up to pitch, but there's a current that punctuates it. One that feels heady and warm. One that excites you in the same way it embarrasses you. “I’ve seen you watching. I’ve seen you for years. The first time, maybe it was a mistake. But last week? Three weeks before that?”

Your mouth went dry, choking on the excuse that tried to bubble up. Like finely ground chalk powder coasted every surface of it. “I—”

He cuts you off before you can even try to defend yourself. “I know you get off on it too. Leave your curtains open while you touch yourself. Saying his name, my name.”

Horror twists inside you like a knife, your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach. You’d always been so careful, never acting when you thought they were home. Never want to risk exactly this happening. Your face burned like you drank half a liter of vodka in a go. Maybe you’d wake up and realize this was a nightmare. The humiliation was unbearable. 

“Imagine my surprise,” Suguru continues in a low chuckle, left hand slotting perfectly against your waist, “when I came home early one day and saw that.” 

The tears that had stopped in your flash of anger spill hot and fast down your cheeks. The raw, hot shame and embarrassment muddle you. It makes you want a sinkhole to open up beneath you and swallow you whole. You can’t meet his gaze, your vision blurry. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll move out.” you stammer out, the words falling in a chopping spiccato, desperate to create space between the two of you. You’d never be able to face him again. 

“Who said anything about moving out?” Suguru comes, pulling you closer to him till you're flush against his chest. He bends down, breath tickling your ear. You feel the sharp pressure of his teeth grazing the shell of it, a jolt going through your body. “You don’t get to leave now.” Pulling back, he meets your eyes in a half-lidded gaze. 

Both of you are playing the game again. Looking for something unspoken, some cryptic clue you need to decipher. He was searching for discomfort, disgust, anything to make him draw back and stop. You searched for understanding, dissecting how it got to this point. Every moment, every glance, every touch from him that you had ever overlooked. 

He always held a soft glint in his eyes when he looked at you. Something subtle, normally reserved for Satoru. It warmed the edge of his voice when he spoke and crinkled the corners of his eyes when he smiled. There was that softness for Shoko, but it was different. The one he had for you was a more reserved, pulled-back, and dialled-down version of what gripped him when he looked at Satoru. He had always viewed you this way.

The times you sat sandwiched between him and Gojo, your legs brushing against him, his arm slung around your shoulders to reach Satoru. Pulling you against him on the train, in clubs, at parties, the bump of your hips against his own. Compliments when you wore flattering, his pushing Satoru to dress you up. He liked it best when you were in shorter dresses and skirts with tights. 

Suguru had always wanted you, but you had failed to notice. 

Instinct took over before reason could temper it. You pushed off the door, your hands flying to the loose part of his hair at the nape of his neck. The strands feelt just as silky an shiny as they look between your fingers. Without hesitation, the space between you two diminishes. You aren’t sure who closes the distance first, but your lips lock hungry. Teeth knocking against each other as you both desperately cling to the other. It's rough and aggressive, both of you starved animals feasting on flesh. The taste of copper spreading in your mouth as he bit down on your lip making you whine. His breathing becomes your own, heady mix of desire and dark, primal urge..

His tongue pushes against yours, taking advantage of your now open mouth, wet and warm brushing against the back of your teeth, laying claim to your mouth. Geto was dominating in all aspects of his life so it was unsurprising that he set the pace and led you to where he wanted to be. He moved your legs up, patting your ass to jump, to then wrap around his waist as he pressed you against the door. You grind your hips against his growing erection as he holds you there, and you can feel the heat of him even through his pants.

Suguru pulls away panting. His eyes are half closed, lips blushed a beautiful red and damp with saliva. He moves in again, this time to your neck, where he bites down hard. You squirm as he sucks a dark and angry mark, his mark, on your skin. The bite of his teeth against your skin feels right. It eats away at the jealous monster inside you every second he’s latched onto you.

Fed up with the door, Suguru opens it and carries you through the threshold. He moves the two of you through the genkan, toeing off his shoes while you kick your own off, and into the living room where he drops you on the couch. There’s an air about him, so intense it’s nearly oppressive, as his fingers inch up underneath your sweater, sliding it off of you. It’s a predator circling their prey, the success of a hunt now that he’s got you on your back against the soft fabric of the couch. He’d been waiting for this far longer than you thought and it spurs you on.

Suguru moves in tandem with you, tugging off his sweater and button-up shirt, exposing his happy trail. The dark dusting of hair makes your mouth water. Once his shirt is off, his hands cover your chest through your bra, palming your tits like stress balls. It's unpadded and lacey, and it lets him feel as if your nipples get hard. He pushes the cups down, leaving them to rest under your breasts, and pushes them up slightly, accentuated by your being on your back.

His fingertips close around your nipples as he pinches and pulls at them. You knew how much of a sadist he could be. One night you watched him edge Satoru for an hour straight. Seen how hot he looked with Gojo in his mouth as he writhed around. A sweet moan escaped you as he played with your nipples and rolled his hips against yours. It makes your head feel fuzzy, thoughts focusing purely on him. His weight presses down on you, so heavy and right it makes you ache.

You lunge forward, propping yourself up on your elbows to kiss him again. It’s just as messy and hungry as before, years of built-up desire between the two of you saturating your every pore. It settles in your bones that pulses in time with your heart. 

Suguru doesn’t separate from you, but he slides your trousers and underwear off in one go as you kick your socks off. He tugs his own off hastily, boxer briefs following in turn. His public hair is trimmed, a close crop like you’ve seen it before. Like every other aspect of him, it’s neatly maintained, put into its place, and kept there. 

His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he pulls your hips up by his head. Your back is half off the sofa as he places your legs over his shoulders and parts your core with his fingers. He blows cold air onto your clit that makes you squirm before he licks your clit. Moaning, you try to grind yourself against his face but his hands tighten on your hips, holding them firm. You’d get what he wanted to give you. Fight against it and get nothing, or accept it. 

He was slow to start. His tongue lazily explores you, getting familiar with your taste. It pushed against your clit, wide and flat, before swirling his tongue around it. The ball of his tongue piercing rubbed against the most sensitive part of you. Your hips jerk forward and he looks up, a warning in his eyes, but he doesn’t stop. Suguru curls his tongue again, this time moving it side to side, letting his piercing catch on your clit purposefully.  Every action he takes is measured as he picks up speed while latching his lips around it to add delicious suction. Two of his fingers slide inside you, reaching far deeper than your own ever could. He pumps them in and out of you, driving you closer to the edge.

You felt your pussy drooling, liquid gushing out and covering his chin. The muscles in your abdomen tightened with each passing second until you swore they'd cramp. It was all too much as you came, jerking and contracting in on yourself. Black spots dot your vision as your world shakes on this axis. 

Sugru watched as you came, pulling back from your pussy to stare at your face. His eyes never left yours as he rubbed soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. He could cover nearly all of you with how big his hands were, warm and calloused. Minus a cold spot on his left hand. 

His engagement ring. 

The silver felt like it burned your skin as he smiled at you and planted a kiss on your inner thigh. It glimmers in the low light, bouncing light off like a homing beacon. Bubbling sickness, bile rising in your throat, disgust palming at your skin. What had you just done? You’ve just violated a boundary so gigantic with Suguru. Let your own selfish need for intimacy lead you to this. He was engaged to your best friend. They were getting married next year.

You rushed to grab your clothes, panic surging through you. The world spins around you. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“We shouldn’t have done that,” you buttoned up your trousers, throwing your sweater on. Your hair is a mess and your skin feels clammy and flushed. The need to vomit is overwhelming. “This was a mistake.”

Suguru’s rising from the couch, trying to grab you, stopping you from moving but you dodge his hand. “A mistake?” 

Your left hand meets your mouth as you bite the nail of your thumb. It clicks against your front teeth. 

“Satoru won’t mind-” 

“A mistake Suguru,” You shake your head, bending down and grabbing the rest of your stuff. “Please. Just forget this.” Without waiting for his reply, you run up the stairs and slam the door behind you. 

You really are a bitch.

©️ uzuzrimisery

[fastboatsmojito]

Some Depraved Scott Miller smut - I don’t even have a name for this oops

| A/N; I don’t have anything to say actually this was .. fun 🙂‍↕️ barking and drooling and and and

| CW; 18+ smut btc !! No gendered terms used, A little slapping (literally one described), Scott’s the usual level of mean, Established dom/sub relationship, just freak nasty in general sorry, Barely any plot, No condom mention (be safe blah blah blah)

——

It’d been a long week, not only were you drowning in paperwork, you were still recollecting yourself after a particularly rough encounter with a storm.

It was hailing hard one day and you’d forgotten your coat - leading to a few nasty bruises and a stern lecture about the ‘importance of outerwear’ from your co-worker turned boyfriend, Scott. He was always so assertive, you might find it hotter if it weren’t equally as aggravating.

You trudged back to your motel room for the night, it wasn’t nearly as good as being home but a long, hot shower always helped.

Right before you got to your room you were stopped. “Rough day?” Scott stood in front of your door, arms crossed as he examined your worn expression.

“Rough week.” You corrected, sighing with your whole body as he stood in front of your solace for seemingly no reason.

“What the fuck do you want, Scott?”

“Woah. Just checking in. What’s with the attitude?”

“I’m tired. I’d love to take a shower and go to sleep but someone is standing in front of my door.” You groaned, shoving him out of your way to unlock the door. Barely given enough time to shut it before he was picking you up and tossing you on the bed.

——

You didn’t realize this was what you really needed until you were face down on the bed in front of him, muffled cries into the pillow as he held your hands behind your back.

“As soon as my dick’s inside you all that attitude goes away. That’s all it takes, huh?” He crooned mockingly over you.

“Turn around.” He let go of your wrists and pulled out so you could turn over, hair sticking to the sweat across your forehead as he scanned over you. He moved his hands up your arms, fingers stopping and digging into a bruise over your shoulder as you winced.

“Scott-“ You whined, “you’re being mean.”

“Yeah. If you wanted me to be nice you should’ve acted like you deserved it.”

He relieved the bruise with a stroke of his thumb before he moved his hand to your cheek. Softly resting there for just a second before he pulled it back, a smack followed by a gasp followed by the slick sound of him pushing back into you filling the room. It was all rough and quick, your mouth barely able to keep up with your brain.

“Fuck-“ He quickly shoved two of his fingers into your mouth when you groaned at the stretch of him.

“I know, I know. Feels good, huh?“ You nodded, drool dripping down his fingers that were sliding against your teeth as he literally fucked the stress away.

“Mhm. But we got neighbors, baby. Gotta keep that pretty mouth of yours occupied.” He punctuated by shoving his fingers deeper, tears spilling from your eyes as you gaged.

You could barely think after the second mind-numbing orgasm, your knees bent towards your shoulders as his hand smoothed over the sore skin of your cheek.

“Scott I can’t-“ You mewled, legs shaking under him with every thrust.

“You can, come on.” And you did, finally relaxing and letting your grumpy old boyfriend take care of you for the night.

—

“Can’t sleep yet, honey. Let’s get that shower out of the way, yeah?”

—

He always let you sleep on him after a rough night like this, relaxing into his big, warm chest as his hand soothed over your back as you drifted off. He wasn’t always mean.

——

[the-monkeies-girl]

did u miss me??? but anyway—-

Caesar was a remarkably fast walker--- at least, in your mind there was no doubt that his proportionally shorter legs were swift, balanced and spaced toes able to give assistance when needed for extra grip and it was hard to ignore the ever lingering sense of envy that drifted against your ribs at the mere sight of him trailing ahead of you. Even despite your rain boots having decently new tread against the soles, they were nothing compared to the dexterity and assurance that Caesar had to not stumble over himself. He was confident in every stride, gait powerful from the tips of his shoulders that bristled with the thickened fur of the Winter Months that were now cresting their peak against the sleek land, all the way down the narrowing but not lanky torso and protruding with muscles that deemed purpose even when not in use. 

There was a desperate urge from the recesses of your mind to move faster, to catch up and walk shoulder to shoulder with the Ape King himself, to feel the fur that your fingertips were so familiar with kissing the polyester of your jacket but that never garnered favor. Caesar lead you- figuratively and mentally, emotionally… To keep you safe in the Colony, comforted away from the Humans who brought their own destruction… Secure, with him and only him… It was an unspoken rule between the Ape and your Human self that beckoned no one to break it, sacred almost like a promise between two children on the playground. Never to be broken, but over time, it would be forgotten in favor of falling into a routine, mundane and just another way of living. 

And that’s what this was, you thought to yourself with a small smile as Caesar peered over his left shoulder, urging you in silence to follow his placed foot steps over a fallen tree-trunk, covered in moss and silken dew from condensation that clung all too desperately to the air. Whenever you left the Colony together on foot, Caesar would bring his large frame a few paces in front of you to the point where your vision was nothing more than the broad shoulders that swept side to side with radiated assurance for you but juxtapose held nothing but warmth in the middle of the night when you were tangled in the nest together.

He was scanning the area with his lustrously green irises that were now brighter in color than the foliage that turned a bleak and boring gray this time of year, anything that posed a danger he would help you through. Anything that your Human feet could trip over, he pointed out in usual silence and it left you reeling that anyone in the days after the Flu took all semblance of empathy away from Humanity would care for you in such a way. 

Caesar did though --- despite differences, you watched in bated hushedness as he reached his hand out, the fur along his knuckles tickling at your fingertips as you reached up and allowed him to laden your body closer as if you weighed nothing more than a leaf, embracing you against his chest with momentum that left you staggering for a breath, moving you around the fallen trunk that did not pose much of a threat, but the Ape was intuitive enough to notice you were falling behind in your hurriedness. Slowly, the arm that was by his side wrapped to tuck itself around your waist, pulling you in even further for stability as your center of gravity kissed feverishly against his own, submitting and leaning into it without reserve.

You smiled a 'thank you' towards your mate, returned only with a creased upward haze of his mouth and a playful gesture of his hand as the Chimp signed, 'Need you to stay close.'

"I know." You whispered softly, seeing the surge of the gray fur that lined his muzzle bristle at the sheer tenacity your breath had being so close to his face. "I could get lost, blah blah. You've told me---"

To outsiders, it would appear you were being scolded for not listening, but to the inner workings between Caesar and yourself, it was playful... Flirtatious around the edges as his voice came out in a deepened and rich baritone, a few notches below from the voice he used with others. It itched at the inside of your brain that yearned to have him inside of your skin, inside of your mind just to cure all the morbid and lasting curiosities you had about being mated to the King himself.

"Should listen then. Do not know... What I would do if you... Got lost." In a mirror position, you could feel the heat of his breath against your cheeks, playing along the thinly placed baby hairs of your skin and catapulting a shiver down your spine that was not due to the sudden breeze that sky-rocketed the landscape and rustled the graying and dead leaves. Caesar.... cared for you more than any Human ever would or could.

[simpjaes]

now that I have had the time to actually think and write out my feelings, here's what i stated earlier except worded better because every time i read my original post about the situation, it doesn't get my message across.

Despite me only having one (now deleted) work dedicated to that piece of undeserving shit, Moon Taeil, I will no longer be writing for nct, period. [ referring to ao3 and ncteez]

One reason being that as much as I enjoyed writing for NCT and as much as I adore(d) the members, I cannot realistically know who was or was not aware of what Taeil was doing. I am not saying that they were well aware and swept it under the rug, I am simply stating that as much as I hope they didn't know, I am no longer comfortable as a fan because it is unlikely that we will ever be able to do anything more than speculate. My second reason being that I have grown a lot as a person and have drifted from NCT in the past half year. The news we all came online to today was something that ultimately made me stop clinging. 

Additionally, i want to remind you all that I will never judge you for continuing to support NCT, but I will judge you if you continue to support Taeil.

I sincerely hope the victims who were hurt by him are not only finding joy in his downfall, but healing. It's not easy to heal from such a thing, as so many of us have experienced it ourselves, but I do hope that seeing justice will make those wounds a little easier to handle. And if you're a fan, or biased Taeil previously, remember that you should not feel guilty or bad for loving him before this. It was his job to be lovable and to be seen in his best light. He manipulated many people but let's hope that he can no longer do that.

fuck moon taeil. 

and just to add, i see people on twitter saying "i heard from somewhere blah blah blah" and "my friend said she saw taeil do this" etc. do not take these things random fans are saying and treat them as truth. we are well aware that taeil has done something awful but I want to make it very clear that with each new allegation that ends up being false, people may begin to question and downplay the whole situation. I'm talking "well this was proved false so clearly he's innocent with the other things too!" etc. DO NOT BELIEVE WHAT PEOPLE ARE SAYING IF THEY DO NOT POST SOURCES FROM LEGITAMATE PLACES. I know we are all angry and hurt, but get your information from trusted sources, not the person with a haechan pfp on twitter trying to express their anger by spreading information that could, ultimately, take awareness away from the real victims and/or make people second guess the investigation as a whole.

[nataliesscatorccio]

Dead cabin guy and his technicolor dreamcoat have haunted me since the wardrobe reveal in season two, and today im going to make it everyone's problem.

Travis wears the coat first. He and Natalie take the blessing and go out to look for Javi. Travis hallucinates (prophesies?) that Javi is dead and buried beneath the snow, but Natalie shows him it's only a fox. Travis finds the strange, mossy tree stump. The next day Travis has strong feelings about which direction is best to search for Javi in, and we don't see more of him until Nat reveals the bloody pants. Not that weird, all things considered. New season, new wardrobe additions. Hiking on a caloric deficit with PTSD, you'll probably hallucinate. Pretty standard stuff.

Then Nat wears the coat. She takes it to lay Jackie's bones to rest at the crash site, and while she wears it she sees (hallucinates? prophesies? I'm not sure!) the white moose that they'll later lose to the lake (ergo the hunt, ergo Javi dies for real but more on that later).

We get to Old Wounds, the hunting competition, and Lottie wears the coat now. You see where I'm going with this but just to be thorough: she enters the realm of death dreams, talks with Laura Lee, almost freezes to death.

Episode five. Melissa wears the coat. Maybe that's not important! Maybe it's just to show that they all share the wardrobe, and that the side characters are as equally All In This Together as the main characters are. Or it could mean something that a peripheral character, wearing important wardrobe, framed in antlers (not unlike Travis in 2.01), has the line "maybe he did die, and that's his ghost." It's a little suspicious, and at this point starts to feel like a pattern.

Who wears it next, who wore it best!? That's right baby, it's Paul! For his dreamworld drifter, hallucination hunk Coach Ben Scott. Nicholas Urfe himself. Ben spends almost all of his time in a dream, until *drumroll please* Paul, very pointedly, takes the coat and walks out the door. "Where do you think you are, Ben?" he puts the coat on. "You had to have known you couldn't stay here forever. [...] What matters now is that you aren't welcome here anymore." Following Paul means committing to death (to dream), and until interruption that's the choice Ben makes. Because letting Paul (and the coat) go would mean committing entirely to reality.

Of course, the pièce de résistance is something I didn't even notice until I went looking for it. The first dozen times I watched, I thought that after Lottie's beating Shauna brought her a blanket. "Lottie's cold." But she doesn't. She brings her the coat. Lottie is laying with it when, in a fever dream, she witnesses/hallucinates/prophesies parts of the hunt.

It's there again (on the back of the chair) when she sits by the fire and speaks for the wilderness, appointing Nat their queen. Ben watches, having woken from the dream himself, as they all bow to Natalie and leave reality behind for good.

Of course, there are a lot of times when characters hallucinate strange things in the cabin while not wearing the coat, because they're all starving to death and traumatized. Mari. Shauna. Akilah. But in addition to that, it seems like a pattern worth noting that in each instance where a character wears the technicolor coat, the line between the real and the imagined seems to blur with more ease. Does dead cabin guy's technicolor dreamcoat help the Yellowjackets connect to the dream realm?

I'll be brief here with the biblical parallel: blah blah Joseph is the favorite son (you were always its favorite), his father gives him a technicolor coat (they're nothing special, they don't change color in the cold or anything). blah blah Joseph starts having prophetic dreams etc etc his jealous brothers throw Joseph down a pit (the wilderness chose) and bring his bloodstained coat back as false proof of his death (hanging on a branch. a couple miles back). You get my drift.

Does it mean anything? Who knows. But in a series where wardrobe is such an integral part of the storytelling, it felt worth paying attention to.

[strawberrystepmom]

izuku x f!reader. enemies to lovers au, workshopped with @izvmimi <33333 her follow up part can be found here. wc 3.6k.

With an exasperated sigh, Izuku points the remote that looks comically small in his hand toward the flat screen TV screwed into his office wall to turn the volume up the moment you come on screen. 

“This week, yet another family was displaced by the inaction of heroes. When the focus shifted from merely catching villains rather than protecting the public…”

Your voice drifts into a blur, the man choosing to focus on your mouth and how it’s moving rather than what you’re saying. Plush and soft, topped with camera ready shimmering gloss. Your eyes are wide and doe like, your cheeks round and trustworthy. You’re the picture of empathy, pretty and polished, immaculate in every way.

It certainly isn’t hard to imagine why VOHSV, Victims of Hero Supported Violence, picked you as their spokesperson. Who else could manage this busy talk show circuit with expert precision? Watching you play the crowd and hosts’ emotions like a violin makes him roll his eyes but he can’t deny you are damn good. 

Your message is infuriating to him and his colleagues but at least you look like heaven sent while spreading it. It’s probably why everything you say spreads like wildfire across the social media apps he has open on his unlocked phone that rests on his desk. 

He’s listened to your spiel enough times that he can already fill in the blanks of what you’re saying but he picks up the remote and turns the volume up an additional click to be certain you haven’t deviated from your usual points. Costly property damage, displacement, lack of available care to those affected by the trauma of villain attacks, blah, blah, blah.

The interviewer appears on screen as the camera pans, nodding at the last comment you made that Izuku didn’t care to actually listen to.  

“And how does your organization suggest the Commission begin combating these issues?”

The camera is quick to pan back to you with your perfect smile, teeth striking and bright and dazzling. The man watching from his oversized office and overstuffed chair clenches his fist watching you, uncertain if it’s annoyance or desire that fills his chest, but he doesn’t look away despite the flashing red light on his desk phone telling him he’s being paged by his assistant. 

“I am personally calling upon the top heroes to do better.” Your smile doesn’t waver and the camera zooms in on your head and shoulders, allowing your next impassioned plea to land directly where you intend it to. “Deku, you claim you care, yet you are responsible for the most costly property damage caused by a hero in Japanese history. How do you explain that with that big smile plastered on your face?”

Bold of you to be taunting the man chuckling humorlessly from his desk about plastered on smiles with a high definition flat screen sized Cheshire grin of your own on your face but he appreciates the audacity. 

“Be a hero instead of just talking about being one.”

Perhaps if your life’s path were different you’d be a hero just like him or maybe he’d even be you, full of righteous anger toward those who only wish to help no matter the means. Or collateral. 

Without thinking, Izuku pulls his phone off of the top of his desk and his jaw slackens when he presses the little pen in the corner of the current most popular app in the app store. The speed of his thumbs is almost impressive, big hands on a little phone screen won’t stop the number one hero, and he smirks when his phone pings letting him know his post has gone live. 

Deku (@fight4smiles)

Name the time and place, VOHSV. I’ll gladly drop a check by to cover some of the damage you allege I’ve been doing. 

He gets to see your reaction in real time, the camera panning from you to the interviewer who grins excitedly, pressing on their in ear microphone and back. The man chuckles to himself, swinging back and forth in his chair, lips curved into a smirk. 

“It appears the current number one hero has responded to your challenge. He’s willing to meet.”

Your smile droops but you’re quick to put it back in place, brows raised and head nodding wildly. The adversarial relationship between the two of you is nothing new, Deku having spent the better part of this entire year ducking and dodging your direct invitations to speak with the VOHSV. 

He watches you smack your lips together and purse them, primly placing your hands in your lap and laughter comes easily. It’s no big deal to him to cut a check to help put some buildings back together, the many zeros on the end of his bank balance just one of the many perks of being at the top but it has never been about that for him.

Deep down, he knows he’ll never change your mind about your crusade but he would love to shut you up at least for a little while. 

“How brave of him to finally step up. I will be reaching out to him soon with details.���

The red light on Izuku’s desk phone continues to blink wildly and just as he leans forward to answer it, his office door opens and his assistant stares at him with disbelief with the current number two Dynamight hot on their heels, pulling his mask off of his head and gently shoving them out of the way.

The assistant scurries back to their position outside of Deku’s office as quickly as possible, allowing the men privacy.

“Why did you do that?” 

Izuku looks down at his cell phone and tosses it on his desk with a relaxed shrug. He catches a glance at your pretty face one last time before shutting the TV off, tossing the remote aside and turning his attention toward Katsuki with his arms folded over his chest. 

“You know that you’re giving them what they want, right? Giving these shitheads attention is just going to create more of ‘em.”

More of them - outspoken victims’ rights activists. VOHSV is simply one of many groups that have cropped up over the last several years as hero academies have continued to churn out bigger and better heroes with every graduating class. It has been a decade since Izuku and Katsuki graduated and the classes after them have only become stronger, a source of pride for both of the men, given their hefty donations to their alma mater. 

Sure the battles have become bigger, spectacles to be adapted into films and documentaries later, but isn’t that what being a hero is all about? What’s left behind after you save the day, no matter who may be affected?

The heroes of today are simply doing what they’ve been taught to do and that’s save the day no matter the cost. It’s hard to hold it against them when it’s systemic and historically that has been the main reason why most advocacy groups have fallen apart but not the VOHSV. They are succeeding because they have you, coiffed to perfection and ready to take anyone you can to task, including the devilishly handsome and arrogant man topping the hero charts.

Izuku sighs, his phone buzzing persistently on the desk in front of him. It’s certainly his agent or his PR team or someone eager to scold him for what he’s done so he ignores it, sliding the little piece of metal aside.

“I’d care more if their points were valid but we both know they aren’t. I’ll cut a check, flash a smile, and hopefully make their mouthpiece look silly enough she’ll stop doing press circuits. It seems like a winning situation to me.”

Bakugou snorts, unimpressed with the answer.

“What if this backfires and you look stupid?”

Izuku’s phone continues to buzz and he opens his desk drawer, sliding the device inside rather than deal with the issue at hand. He’ll comfort everyone later, what matters the most to him right now is when you’ll be brave enough to reach out to show him your hand. Right now, he has you backed into a corner and he simply wants to watch you make your way out of it, smug that he’s the one who has you pinned there.

“Impossible. People don’t take these organizations seriously enough for me to look stupid.”

Katsuki snorts, leaning against the door frame rather than fully entering the office. He was asked to stop by earlier this week, the two of them supposed to be ironing out details to appear at a hospital opening in another part of the city, but the task has clearly been put aside for a petty online feud headed by the Beacon of Hope himself.

“I think you’re already stupid.”

Izuku offers a curt smile and nods at his friend.

“I’ll take that into consideration along with all of your other opinions, don’t worry.” 

Any further argument between the two is cut short when Deku’s assistant bursts back onto the scene, peeking around the door frame. 

“Uh…the VOHSV spokesperson is on the phone for you, Mr. Midoriya.”

Izuku laughs and raises his brows, shifting forward in his chair and pressing the flashing line one button indicating a call is waiting. He presses his thick finger to his lips to encourage Bakugou and his assistant to be quiet and he hits the speaker button immediately.

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon.”

It takes all of you not to toss your phone across the room at the sound of his voice through your speaker. You’re in the back of a chauffeured vehicle, phone pressed to your ear so hard you swear that your cheek and head are going to hurt later, nursing a bottle of water in your free hand. 

You weren’t expecting to hear from him so soon, either.

“I figured since you are so eager and have so much to say we may as well get this over with. We have an event on Friday night and you will be forwarded the details on location and attire and we are anticipating your donation of over five million yen. It will help many who have been harmed due to your recklessness.”

The blood pulsing in his ears makes the room seem smaller, the walls caving in on him with your words. You’re so adversarial toward him, so eager to bite and nip and bat with your claws out, and he wants to know why. What happened to make you distrust people like him so much? 

Remembering he’s the one who has you backed into a corner, he shifts in his chair and tents his fingers on the desk in front of him.

“I’ll have your check, don’t worry. I won’t let you look silly in front of the fourteen VOHSV supporters you have to impress.”

You scoff incredulously. There is something seriously wrong with this man, his arrogance blinding his common sense. Your fingers ache where they grip into the metal sides of your phone and the driver keeps shifting his gaze from the road to the mirror to see your face twist into varying degrees of frustration and anger. Taking a deep breath, you let your lips curve into a smile and narrow your eyes. 

Focus. You have him where you want him.

“I didn’t realize this conversation was meant for stooping to petty insults but I can’t say I’m shocked. It’s hardly a surprise you refuse to take anyone else’s safety given your own personal record of injured civilians while you’re handling villain attacks.”

Bakugou’s jaw drops and Izuku leans forward to lift the phone from its cradle, pressing the button to turn it off speaker at near record speed. It takes all of his self control to keep from snapping the cord in two knowing it would effectively end the call and thus his opportunity to antagonize you further.

“Well, you aren’t the only one who has done their homework. We pulled a profile on you months ago and know your entire background. You have no relevant experience that would allow you to criticize heroes the way that you do. Put yourself in our shoes.”

You snort from the other end of the phone, impressed by how bad he is at lying. Arrogance has truly won out over any logic this man may have in his entire body and you suck your teeth, jaw slackening because you have truly won this round.

“See, Deku, here’s the thing. If you were telling the truth about anything you just said then you would already know that I am a graduate of an international hero academy. I have been where you are, or at least wanted to be, but then I came to my senses. I used to hope you’d be able to do the same but it appears my faith was misplaced.”

Now Izuku’s jaw drops, his emerald eyes darting across the room as though the words he needs will magically spring forth from the walls. Sadly, nothing happens and he sits there with his mouth agape dumbly. 

“I look forward to seeing you on Friday. Don’t forget that check.”

You pull the phone from your ear and end the call, laughing to yourself knowing that you left this cocky asshole speechless. He mimics your motion in his own office, pulling his desk phone from his ear and placing it back where it belongs. As badly as he wants to be frustrated by the loss to you, he’s impressed by how easily you hit back without an ounce of fear or worry of what you’re getting yourself into.

A woman as beautiful as she is brave and irritating.

He feels his cock stiffen slightly in his sweatpants the longer he thinks about it and frowns, immediately thinking of exploding buildings and grandmas to distance himself from the fact he’s into how eagerly you spar with him.

His assistant and Bakugou both stare at him, his friend laughing and turning on his heel to leave, waving dismissively.

“Like I said Deku, you’re already stupid. Have fun on Friday.”

Izuku’s assistant follows suit and closes the door behind them, giving him time to lick his wounds.

The rest of the week continues like his weeks usually do. He’s called four times to handle villain attacks, each one ending a little less destructive than the last, and Thursday is when he sees you on TV again, smiling brightly on a different talk show in the same time slot you were in on Monday.

He keeps the TV muted, uninterested in what you have to say about the people he saved this week, but he watches your mouth move silently. His eyes narrow every time your tongue darts out, the tip of it wetting your bottom lip and his freckled cheeks heat when your lips twist into that winning smile. 

That damned smile.

This man has made bringing smiles to faces his entire personality since the day he zipped up his prototype suit years ago, vowing on that day to work as hard as he could no matter how bleak things seemed. It worked and it’s what he’s known for, joy and hope and safety the things he strives for the most. 

Watching you smile while calling his character into question makes him simultaneously furious and hard again and he has to cross his legs and imagine those same exploding buildings when you press your lips together on the screen in front of him. 

A knock on the office door captures his attention and his assistant opens the door, clipboard in hand.

“You have a tux fitting for tomorrow.”

Reaching for the remote he turns his TV off and rises with a nod. Everyone knows you have to look your very best for your biggest battles and he has no intention of showing up to meet you face to face looking like anything less than a magazine cover.

He just never imagined you’d do the same yet here you stand, 8 pm on Friday night, draped in dazzling gold silk that hugs every inch of your body. You’re taller than he expected, one long leg jutting from the slit in your dress and elegant neck draped in simple jewelry.

You’re beautiful in a way that TV did little to capture and the arrogant man finds himself speechless when you hold out your hand in his direction, grinning at him. He searches for hidden fangs and finds none, just perfect pretty teeth.

“I wanted to apologize for earlier this week, this organization is my passion and it gets the best of me sometimes.”

Your words catch him off guard so he just nods and shakes your hand. If you notice his sweaty palm you keep it to yourself and he internally chides himself for his nerves. He is the fucking number one hero, his face is plastered on every single corner of Japan, and he needs to remember that. 

“Hey, we all have bad days. I’m just glad to be here to shed some light on a small cause.”

Your smile dims and his widens, your palm quickly leaving his. Heat simmers in your core and you feel disgusted by your own desire. Sure, he’s one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen - all big muscles that his tuxedo does little to hide and pretty green waves falling over his face but he’s also the biggest asshole you’ve had the unfortunate luck of meeting.

Drawing your hands close to your body, you fight the urge to petulantly fold your arms over your chest, and he digs in his pocket to produce the check he promised. He holds it out in your direction and you pluck it from his hand, eyes widening when you notice that the amount written on the check is far larger than the five million yen previously discussed. 

“Doubled your donation. Very kind of you, Deku.”

He smirks and you feel warm again, cheeks heating in perfect time with your core. Perhaps it’s the glass of champagne you downed an hour ago to calm your nerves or the low lighting of the event space but he is undeniably attractive and you are undeniably attracted to him.

A terrible realization to come to while face to face with a man you called a liar and a fraud four short days ago.

Izuku enters your space and crowds around you, dipping his head low enough that his mouth is just above your ear. He’s bigger than you expected, an entire head taller than you, and you feel overwhelmed by the scent of his cologne and the way he carries himself. He has the demeanor of a man who knows he’s the shit and as much as it aggravates you, it thrills you too, the same heat lashing through your stomach with every flutter of his long lashes.

“Call me an optimist but I think we can still salvage a friendship out of this situation.”

You laugh, shaking your head and clutching the check he provided to your chest.

“There’s an after party starting soon if you don’t have more buildings to go destroy. I’m sure the rest of the VOHSV team would love to thank you personally for your generous donation.”

The hero presses his lips together and raises his brow, blazing green eyes meeting yours. The tension between the two of you is so thick that even the most unaware onlooker would feel it but the room is relatively empty and you’re grateful for it.

“Maybe I only want one person to thank me for my donation.”

Raising a brow to match his, you purse your lips and quickly consider your options. You could give in to the undeniable attraction, a sordid affair with a man you seek to change as part of your life’s work couldn’t possibly be good for optics if you were to be exposed. You could walk away and publicly embarrass him but that doesn’t sound like fun either so you do what you do best - think on your feet and hide your true intentions behind big doe eyes and a winning smile.

“There’s a powder room down that hall, last door on the right,” you motion to a corridor to your left and his eyes follow your movements. “Be there in ten minutes.” 

Izuku nods, moving enough to allow you to slip past him and he watches the way your dress shifts across your ass with each step you take away from him. He isn’t going to bother to be polite anymore knowing what is coming next, his mouth watering at the mere thought of watching that pretty little dress drop to the ground below both of your feet while he uncovers the treasure beneath it. 

His half hard cock presses against the zipper of his tuxedo pants and he doesn’t bother to adjust himself, taking a shortcut that keeps him against the wall and away from prying eyes to the hallway you instructed him to follow. Each step makes his cock throb and he groans when he reaches for the door handle, wondering what he’ll find when he opens it.

Twisting the handle, he chuckles humorlessly when his eyes fall upon an empty powder room. A large mirror framed by lights with a small sink and counter in front of it are all he finds and he shakes his head, eyes falling upon a folded piece of paper sitting on the counter.

Flicking the paper open with his thumb and index finger, he frowns at the words he reads first.

Better luck next time.

Followed by your name signed in delicate penmanship he traces the tip of his thumb over. The ink is still wet and it smears, his thumb marked with black. His eyes trail further down the note and spot your number below your name, the ink the digits were written in still shining.

At least you leaving your number tells him there will certainly be a next time.

[mystsee]

DRIFTED ✦ SIMON GHOST RILEY

PART 1 ✦ NEXT

✦ about: you and simon were lovers, but simon´s duty drifted apart your relationship. 2 years later simon comes back after a long mission and reunites with his friends again, what he didn´t expect was seeing you again.

✦ content: afab reader, anxiety, blood mentions, graphic descriptions of violence, stalker ex, protective simon, pining, reunited love, civilian life, no mask, panick attack, eventual smut, psycho, no mentions of y/n

✦ a.n: an idea of the outfit i had in mind :]

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

STANDING before your mirror, cold winter air strokes your hair, you keep trying your best to conceal your puffy eyes with all the possible makeup you have. you couldn’t keep your thoughts in control, spiraling to the worst case scenario.

ever since you broke up with the crazy man, paranoia is all over you, triple checking your locks, telling your best friend where you’re going, until today.

-

lily bursts inside your flat “what the actual fuck is wrong with him?” you thought the same, not believing what you heard on the call “i don’t know if i should call the police, will they believe me? i have no actual proof of him calling me, the number was blocked” you said frowning, surprised how the situation escalated so quickly.

when you broke up with him it was crazy to say the least, he was becoming this crazy jealous boyfriend every time you travelled because of work. working for the government as a translator caused you to travel a lot. but every time you came back, he started making arguments out of nowhere, making you confused as into why he was so mad everytime you came back, slowly realizing he didn’t trust you.

he was following you everywhere on his phone, always texting you, practically exploding with anger if you didn’t answer in less than 5 minutes. god forbid if you were at a meeting with your phone on silence, hell would come when you came back to your flat.

when the breakup came, he started throwing all these false accusations of you, cheater, you don’t care about me, blah blah blah and threats, it took you a call to the police to get the bastard out of your flat. but that didn’t calm your nerves. his words on the phone call today resonating on your head:

“don’t think i forgot about you, ill get you back again” his sick voice making you feel ill, but you won’t let a man control you.

-

you agreed coming to the pub because if he dares to come close to you and do something, you would be in public, and there would be proof. what you never expected was seeing him again.

as soon as you walked inside, the cozy ambient put you at ease, it was a small pub, lightly decorated of christmas. it was saturday, so of course it would be full today. you saw lily approaching you, with a big mischevious smile on his face, finding it odd

"hey you!" you said to lily hugging her close "you won’t believe it! chris brought someone new today! said he’s an old friend from the military” said lily raising her eyebrows at you, making you laugh, you weren’t really interested to seeing someone new right now.

simon saw the interaction at far, wondering who was behind lily, she was covering her entire frame “got eyes on someone?” chris asked suddenly “what? no, just curious who’s behind her” the moment he said that, lily moved, making simon’s heart freeze.

he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. you. all dolled up, beautiful as ever, a long black coat not hiding your curves under the skin tight black dress at all, the all black outfit complementing your absolutely beautiful face, those black tights making your legs look lovely in those high knee boots, to say he was in a trance was the least, he didn’t even realize you were in front on him, a very deep blush covering your cheeks, your scarf not helping you at all.

“simon?” he missed your voice, your soft angelic voice that brought him comfort after the hell he endured in a long mission, your voice that assured him everyday that he was loved.

you heard him say your name, making your heart stop for a second, it’s been a while 2 years since you heard his deep voice. you just kept staring at him, a bit wide eyed.

he felt his voice thick with emotion, aching to touch you again and feel your soft hands on him “so you are the old friend huh” you said after simon didn’t moved at all he was shocked

what a small world you thought “you know him?” asked lily to you in a small voice “uhm, yeah! long time ago though”

-

you just parted ways and never contacted each other again you were scared you would bother him if you called to see how he was simon went to a long mission, kept small contact with you, but he could see the distance that was growing between you both. he understood the breakup, quite healthy actually, but that didn’t mean you didn’t love each other anymore, it was hard dealing with the distance.

2 years passed, simon thinking of you practically 24/7, wondering where you were, thinking if he should call you to see how you were, and 2 years of you trying to move on, never forgetting him, matter of fact, you kept thinking of the breakup over and over again, thinking maybe you made a wrong choice.

after a while you thought maybe dating again would help, but you accidentally picked a very wrong guy a psycho to catch feelings for.

-

you could feel his stare on you as you moved to sit next to him, the only seat left, even though the table was big, simon chose to sit on the side where he had no chairs beside him on both sides, so he could spread comfortably.

but now he had your knees on his left side, you bumped into them a little, muttering a small sorry, simon feeling warm inside after finally feeling you again

he was checking you out, similar to what you were doing, you noticed his arms got bigger, bulging from his hoodie, making your mind go to another complete direction, you hoped your scarf covered your cheeks.

as the night passed, simon saw the way you slowly passed from tipsy, to funny drunk, your scarf long forgotten, making simon eyes wander to your chest, he remembered that of you, everytime you drank, you literally became the embodiment of a comedian.

right now you were way too deep in a debate about cats, the wine making your head go back to what you usually debate when your drunk, cats plotting against humanity.

“i swear everytime those fur balls purr they get inside our minds” you slurred, confidently laying back on the chair nodding your head, “as soon as suzy makes that cute as hell sound, i’m on my knees for her, which is weird you guys! they are contrlling us!" grabbing your glass of vodka again, until you felt a hand on top of you

"okay okay! you know what?" chris's laugh was way too contagious, making you laugh with him as well "i think its enough for today, why don't we move this to your flat?"

after many failed attempts of trying to open your door, and laughing manically, you finally made it, inviting all in, you knew this was a good idea, chris and lily helped you plan all this, the closer they are with you, the less he could come close to you.

as simon passed in front of you, you made eye contact with him, all the memories came flooding back to you. you felt simon touch briefly your hand, making you feel warm inside.

everyone accommodated to your 2 big sofas in your living room, you had your small desk behind the sofas where you worked, and the kitchen on the right side, it was an open kitchen.

you, not wanting the party over, went directly to the kitchen to grab some wine “anyone wants a glass of wine?” they all said yes. the only ones missing were 2 of chris’ friends, they went to buy some beer.

after serving the glasses of wine, you remembered a talk you had with simon a while ago

-

“doll, you really need to make this posters, i bet people would buy them, they are way too original” said simon looking to you, locking his arms around you, you were on his lap finishing a design, and simon kept distracting you with his small kisses here and there, on your neck mostly

“maybe in the future i will print them” you said with a small smile, nervous to show your works.

-

you nudged simon on his arms with a small smile and moved your head to your left side, where your room was “i want to show you something” simon was up in an instant.

as you opened the door to your room, you heard simon inhale deeply behind you, the alcohol making you forget what you two did inside this room simon literally rearranging your guts every night, you grabbed his big hand and moved him to sit on the bed, simon was very confused, because why on earth is he in your room.

you went behind your bookcase, and grabbed a big poster on your hand “look, i finally did it” simon was at loss of words, it was a design you both made one night, it had a special meaning for you both.

you went to sit next to him “i print it to remember us” you said slurring a little, the alcohol was sure as hell making you very open to him. as you slowly put your head on his shoulder, simon freezed to the spot.

“i remember when we made it” his gruff voice said, giving you shivers down your spine, you were so close to him, feeling his heartbeat on you, wondering if he felt how fast was yours beating.

you moved your head up to look at him, and he could feel your eyes on him, not daring to move his eyes because he would definitely kiss you right there. you just looked so beautiful tonight. “i still do them on my free time, but this is the one i love the most”

your hand moved to his thigh unconsciously, you used to put your hand on his thigh anytime, you liked it. but you forgot you are in the present right now, and simon with his thigh tense “oh! sorry sorry! i think i drank a bit too much” you said laughing, standing up with the poster on his hand. “i-i need to go to the bath-bathroom, wanna join?” you said laughing and slurring way too much. when you moved to the door, your eyes widened, slapping your hand on your forehead “wait n-no, that’s when i shower, hah, for-forget my invitashion” you said nervously speed walking to your bathroom, leaving simon alone in your room, he laughed, he really missed you.

you grabbed your glass of wine after going to the bathroom, sitting next to simon on the sofa, he was really close to you, you could move just an inch and be on his lap, you really miss sitting there, your favorite spot, but your mind still has a bit of self control, so you just kept nudging him with your knee laughing, making simon feel warm inside for the 500th time tonight.

chris was telling a joke when you heard the doorbell ring, remembering the friends of chris went to buy beer, so, you stood up to go to the door alone, big mistake, you opened the door with a big smile on your face, until you saw him, on your door, with a deathly smile to you. any trace of alcohol in your body vanished, as well as your smile. you felt your heart stop for a second, fear coming all the way up to your throat.

your door had a small hallway, so your friends couldn’t see who was on your door, you just closed the door with any force you could “go away!” you muttered with a small voice, anxiety was making you not breathe well constricting your voice. simon heard that, making his breath stop for a moment.

you tried closing the door on him but he opened with a lot of force, almost breaking it. he started walking towards you.

“go away!” you screamed, trying to push him out of your apartment, but he had way too much strength. simon heard the scream and immediately stood up. in less than a second he saw your small frame pushed to the plant behind you making you hit your head. he saw this psycho push you even harder to the wall, making you whimper, and he went mad.

chris got there faster than simon, the sofa he was in was closer to the hallway, and tried pushing him out of you, but the psycho had more force than him, he just pushed him away to the floor.

you were on the floor, your nose bleeding, making you worried, even though your eyes were spiraling all over the room. you had your back to him making it hard to see his next move, a big punch on your left hip, making you scream.

the bastard stomped on your hip, a small crack was heard. your screams made simon see red. the man almost got on top on you, until simon grabbed him with all his force and moved him away from you, chris grabbed him and punched him in the face repeatedly, dragging him out of the apartment.

by then, you were crying hard, you couldn’t feel your leg anymore, there was blood on the floor, when did this happen? you felt the panick attack creeping up on you “simon?” you said in between breaths, lily was calling 911 near you. “i’m here doll, hey look at me, i’m right here” you tried finding him but you were seeing small spots on your eyes making you dizzy “fucking hell, lily we need to take her to the hospital” simon was panicked, you were about to go unconscious. who the hell was that guy?

“hey, doll, come on, look at me, yes just like that” you tried your hardest looking at him, but your leg hurted too much “my leg hurts! i can’t move it” you said between whimpers. simon tried to stand you up, but you just couldn’t “baby, you’ll be okay, try not to think of your leg okay?” you felt simon arms slowly carry you to the door, you were staining his shirt with your nose bleed, but he didn’t care, he just needed to get you to the hospital.

he managed to get you out of the door, until you started to see black all around you, the last thing you heard was your name from simon’s panicked voice.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

hiiii, so! how was part 1? i just finished writing this, but i’ll start tomorrow writing part 2, there’ll be little to no angst in this story i get way too anxious with that xd im a sucker for fluff so there will be quite a lot of fluff in here hehe

as you can see, i like adding a pic of the outfit jiji, but! feel free to imagine it as your own! :P

i had this story in my mind for like 3 months i kept daydreaming about it and thought huh 🤔 why don’t i make it a story , i finally wrote it down! yay #proud! anyways idk how many parts this will be, i’ll write the plot as it goes, but it will be most likely centered between reader x simon so! hope you liked it!!!

[eddiesghxst]

perv loser eddie is something that can actually be so personal. it’s in the way he’s such a loser borderline obsessed little stalker.

i’m not quite sure how to put this into words but he is whipped, the true definition. yes he loves you, blah blah blah. let’s go deeper into that love. it’s psycho, when he sees you for the first time his heart bursts, he follows you around in the halls when you’re in school even tho you don’t know him and he doesn’t even know you. you think it’s a weird coincidence that he’s always there. And when you confront him, his knees literally almost drop to the ground in your presence. when you go see him during a hellfire club session, he stops all d&d when he sees you wait outside the closed door. he ignores all protests from the guys that this is a huge campaign, one HE’S been planning. it doesn’t even matter, he would end all d&d sessions 15 minutes early if you asked him to, he’d cancel a session if you slipped him a note before saying you’d be home with no panties on, he’d forget to tell dustin that he had to blow him off because you needed him to take you out to a new chick flick movie.

like i said previously about the inspiration from an ex thing, i love the way cigarette smoke smells. my ex was a smoker and he knew this and it was “our thing”

i think eddie would be majorly turned on if he found this out. i’m not talking about something odd like this ex of mine would blow smoke in my face or whatever but i’m just saying it was a comforting smell. i’m currently out of the country in europe where everyone smokes and i can smell it drifting up to my apartment window. i can just imagine calling eddie who’s back in indiana and telling him how horny you are, how the smell reminds you of him. he’s such a fucking loser tho. he’s been desperate since you’ve been away, having withdrawals, he’s an addict. he fucks himself to sleep with his hand every night and fucks himself awake every morning trying to get some release, his flesh light and hand won’t ever compare. he smokes and plays guitar and thinks of you, each exhale of smoke and he gets anxious thinking about you.

but when you’re back, he doesn’t let you out of the trailer for a good 24 hrs. his only plan is to smoke with you and fuck your brains out. i mean fucking like a madman. he’s fucking his anger and stress out on you, stress about you being away from his side, anger that you’ve been touching yourself away from him. i’m not talking 2 orgasms and you’re done. we’re talking about several upon several chain orgasms he’s bringing you. he wants you sobbing, he never wants you to leave his side.

he’s a loser.

- 🫶 anon (i went overboard)

no bc ur so right stink. everything abt this is so fucking correct, i’m sick to my stomach i want him

————

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, eddie has no spine when it comes to his girl. meaning, he will drop everything he’s doing to please you or do whatever you ask for, no matter the request (if he’s in a mood, he might bitch about it a little, but he will bitch and get the job done okay).

so when you ask eddie if he can pick you up from the airport on the day he’s planned to have dnd, obviously eddie pushes his campaign back because hello, his girl needs a ride.

he’s waiting for you at your terminal with a single rose and a cute little teddy bear and you giggle when you see him because he looks so out of place wearing his usual black leather clothing and heavy chains whilst holding the soft items.

you tell him all about your trip on your way to his trailer, telling him about your time sightseeing and trying new foods and meeting new people.

you’re still rambling about your trip when you walk into his trailer, but it doesn’t last long before eddie’s got you bent over the edge of his bed, clinging to the soft teddy bear and moaning his name. “fuck, i missed this pussy. did she miss me? she miss how good i fuck her, hm?” he pants against your ear. you quiver beneath him, crying out for him as you push back against his hips.

“feels so good, eddie. gonna cum, please can i cum?”

and eddie’s shaking his head and clicking his tongue, “no i don’t think so, sweetheart. i gave you one rule—- told you no touching and you broke that rule.“ he says, low with a patronizing tone and you sob into his sheets as a chorus of sorry’s leave your mouth.

“so you don’t get to cum until i say you can, okay? and i plan on really taking my time with this precious cunt of yours since she seemed to miss me so much.” his hand cracks down on your ass cheek and you cry out as he lets out a satisfied hum.

and eddie kept true to his word, he didn’t let up until he was thoroughly satisfied and you were nothing but a cock drunk mess. you both wouldn’t have it any other way <3

————

more loser perv!eddie ♡

[pygmi-cygni]

writing tips: adding nuance and that 'it' factor

you've read good fics, and you've read great fics. fics that make you squeal and kick your feet and ache for the next installment. and it's not always because his dick is ten inches long. (sorry)

(this also applies to reg stories)

how do authors do that??? it's fanfiction, how is it so good???

well, first of all, there are some amazing writers (love you guys) but also, there's nuance.

the little things.

give your characters a 'thing'. a running joke, a piece of symbolism, a secret handshake, something like that. give a character a recognizeable 'ism' (like a habit or a tell) that someone relentlessly teases them for. nicknames! adorable. these things add little bits of color to the relationship and to the character arcs. don't force it, but if it happens, let it!

2. dialogue!!! omfg dialogue.

good dialogue is the shit. seriously. dialogue is so fucking important for literally everything. 'but pygmi, i suck at dialogue!' get over it. just kidding, practice! bookmark your favorite pieces of dialogue and try to identify what makes it so good. my favorite tip: don't edit the dialogue. no filter. just have the characters go off and say what they want. later, when you've found the gems, edit the gunk out but seriously! use character ai for inspiration if you need. no shame.

3. relatability.

for some reason, people have equated relatability to cynicism. that's not accurate. relatability means your character doesn't always have witty comebacks. sometimes they deepthroat the boot, it you catch my drift. if your MC always has a retort or a snapback, the bickering gets old. add some stumbles. it's ok! ur character is still a badass xox

relatability can also mean being humble. not pitiful, humble. your character can be good at something, but maybe not the best. everyone has a 'thing', something they're good at, but we still have moments of insecurity. I'm tired of reading 'they were the best mechanic in the galaxy blah blah blah' can you tell i read mando and poe fics or what give it some spice! don't make them a useless mess tho. gross.

you know what being a person is like. you are one, and if you're not you are surrounded by them. guess what - the characters in your fandom are people too (maybe?). my point is, even though it seems like they are superhuman or unreal...they are. write them as such. you can do it.

4. personal touches.

your writing has a voice. use it!!!!!! you can tell the difference between different writers because of their little touches. as a reader, i love those! it makes me feel closer to the story, if you add funny commentary or whatever.

5. staying with the story.

not with canon necessarily, but keeping the plot steady and the characters consistent. it's hard, because comments on your story can influence your story, but stick to the script. stories change, but if you throw it every direction, your readers will be like 'this person needs to figure it tf out bye.' keep a little checklist, stay organized. organization is key for continuity.

xox love u