cannibalgh0st · 9 months ago
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I used my epilator today after my shower even though I didn't need to. I usually use it 2-3 weeks.
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I think I just wanted to feel something different other than how I've been feeling...😐💖✨️
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ookaookaooka · 4 days ago
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i just spent ages looking for the post, i swear i posted about it when i broke my beloved fish plate like a year ago, but now he's finally back together! i just have to wait a week or so for the resin to cure , and then i can go in and wipe away the excess gold. even though the process was frustrating and VERY time-consuming and i lost motivation halfway through and let it sit on the shelf unfinished for like 14 months, i'm glad i went to the trouble of learning how to actually kintsugi it with resin and gold instead of rushing it with epoxy and mica powder.
the before pics (freshly broken and after the initial gluing):
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#kinda wish i'd gotten pics of him when i'd filled in the voids and done all the coats of resin on top and sanded them down#the different types of resin were different colors and after sanding it had kind of a marbled look#the process basically goes like: filing down sharp edges to create a gap for the gold to show#gluing everything back together with resin mixed with flour and water to make it strong and sticky#filling in the voids with resin mixed with fine sawdust to make it strong (this part took the longest bc you can't put the paste on thickly)#creating a uniform surface with resin mixed with (i think) fine clay powder#creating a smooth finish by alternately painting on layers of pure resin and sanding it down once cured#(the resin will wrinkle if applied too thickly or if it's too humid)#(this is also used to smooth out the rough areas that the resin/clay step couldn't fix)#and finally painting on a final layer of resin and applying gold powder and burnishing it slightly#each layer of resin takes about a week to cure#if my apartment was more humid and if i hadn't lost steam i think this would've taken me... three months#and thats assuming i could work on it every weekend#seriously it's only worth doing if it's a piece you really love#alternatively if you didn't care about looks you could just stop after sticking it together but idk how food safe it would be#ALSO. BIG word of warning.#the uncured resin could give you a really nasty painful rash if you touch it with bare skin#it is not a joke#once it's cured tho it's inert
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savage-rhi · 2 years ago
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Worth it 💯.
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girlbob-boypants · 28 days ago
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Girlies of the jury do we think that Caliban's helminth might be good now
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orcelito · 3 months ago
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Honestly sooooooo fucked up that I thought my overwhelming daily fatigue and debilitating body pain was a product of the awful working conditions I was under for years and years... and yet, despite being out of work for half a year now, I'm still so fatigued and in pain all the time??? Like come on man that's not fair
Oh well maybe I have liver disease and they'll treat it and then I am magically so much more energized like I was as a kid. We can only hope !!!!
#speculation nation#negative/#um. not hoping i have liver disease but the blood tests blatantly state that it's not working entirely right.#not like major enough to be an immediate health emergency. or else my doctor probably wouldve called me#rather than referring me to radiology.#im just hoping that it's something easy to treat. it really would be so nice for my problems to be fixed like that.#and im mentioning it in conjunction with the fatigue just bc it can cause fatigue. ya kno.#probably is a good thing i caught it this early whatever it is.#like maybe it's Not fibromyalgia. but the fact that i pursued diagnosis for fibromyalgia spurred the blood tests#which alerted my doctor to the abnormal liver enyzmes.#if i hadnt pursued diagnosis who knows how much longer this wouldve gone on like this...#so! im still not happy to be doing a Fucking ultrasound for my liver. but. if it means catching whatever this is early#then like. it'll be worth it. doubly so if it does end up fixing my fatigue problems.#or even just some of them. i dont even need to be at 100% of what others can do#i just wanna be able to do half an hour of chores without feeling like im going to collapse 😭😭😭😭#it's really very troublesome. my life would be so much easier if i had the energy to do more than one thing per day.#(and if i do more than one thing i end up nearly bedridden the rest of the day. like today lol.)#im just trying to look on the bright sides so i dont start freaking out again about my liver not working right.#ultimately. even if i dont feel amazing. i dont feel all that different from how ive lived the past decade of my life.#or at least the most recent years. i kind of feel like my chronic pain has gotten worse. maybe fatigue too.#though i do know ive been dealing with both for however long. idk. might be recency bias. who knows.#ANYWAYS. im not actively dying. so i'll live to my appointments. and then i will hope it's smooth sailing from there.#(oh god i hope i wont need surgery. i dont want surgery. please im trying to graduate college i do not want surgery)#(god why is my luck always so bad)
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raven-cl · 1 year ago
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Doesn't matter who I am, I'm here for you for you Steve. See, I'm real
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itspileofgoodthings · 5 months ago
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I cannot tell you how much more I trust messiness/whininess/a certain plaintiveness of tone or expression even to the point of immaturity in response to things than I do perfectly polished or pat expressions of acceptance.
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masquenoire · 2 years ago
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"There’s only one thing I would change about you. Your last name."
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Roman laughed out loud, the sound harsh and raspy. “You know, I’ve been thinking about doing just that now that you bring it up. It’s a pain in the ass having a constant reminder of your parents hanging over you like some dark cloud that won’t fuck off. Fuck knows there’s enough of that shit already living in a hole like Gotham,” he says while knocking back a mouthful of whiskey. Alas Edgar, that pick-up line went down as hard as that shot.
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coconutdays · 1 year ago
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going crazy
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s. your boyfriend, handsome and secure suguru geto, doesn't get jealous
w.c. 4.8k
w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut!
a/n: based on my seat taker biker!geto au! also I feel this does not live up to seat taker! but I tried my best! so I hope you can still enjoy! likes reblogs and comments r always appreciated to know y’all liked it!!!
your boyfriend does not have a single jealous bone in his body. it’s convenient you suppose?
you’ve heard nightmares of insecure men who have to know where there girlfriends are every second of every hour, the direction they’re even going to utter a breath in. the occasional story of a girl who can’t speak to any men whatsoever because her boyfriend will berate her for doing so. 
although you do always keep suguru in the loop about what you’re doing and don’t really talk to guys because at the end of the day, more often than not, they always do not plan on just being your friend, he never expected those things out of you. It was a silent form of showing your respect for him. and he did the same out of instinct too, first too. 
but aside from that, he doesn’t show any jealousy.
there was a time he even tried to set you up with toji zenin when he was still crushing on you. 
your boyfriend is a little peculiar, you’re very well aware of that, but you find his confidence in himself sexy. because you couldn’t look anywhere else if you wanted to. he was handsome, his face chiseled so prettily it was painful. his smooth voice that always had you reeling to get him to talk more. and his spine tattoo that always made you blush at the sight of it befriending your scratch marks after a particularly rough night, 
so you don’t care about the way you dress, because he won’t control what you wear. in fact, it’s one of the things you both love about each other, a recent discovery now that you’ve been dating for a month. suguru is an avid fan of the way you dress, relishing in what new outfit he’ll see you in whenever he sees you that day, and if not possible, asking for a picture. and you love how he loves it. appreciating the fact that he loves when you wear booby shirts to campus or dates with him or particularly tight jeans that attract eyes aside from his, but are worn for the sole purpose of serving cunt–and riling your boyfriend up.
it all comes together to why you wear the dress you do tonight to go clubbing with him and some friends. it’s honestly the hottest thing suguru will have seen you in so far. yes, your previous halloween costumes were something alright, but this…was different. halloween was like a month ago and the outfits for those events were meant to be slutty, purely slutty. this look was meticulously planned by you the moment you ordered the dress online. the sheer dress and its sparkles had been running across your mind that entire week of shipping with the perfect sultry way you planned to do your hair and makeup. 
you 
hey can we carpool later tonight, my dress isnt motorcycle proof :/
suguru
sure princess.  can i get a peek?
you
don’t feel like it hehe wait for it sugu <3
suguru
tease
any other time, he would’ve more than likely have gotten his peek at your outfit, you are weak to his demands naturally, but this was something he genuinely would have to wait for. pictures would not do you justice and you wanted to catch your boyfriends raw reaction when he saw the look for the first time . 
and you were right.
when he went up to your apartment to pick you up and you opened the door, the reaction was worth the wait. the constant warmth your boyfriend’s gaze always held fell the moment his eyes landed on you and took a moment to breathe you in. 
you saw his pupils dart to your cleavage first, staring for a hard second, then to the tightness against your waist and hips bringing attention to your figure. the small quirk of his eyebrow seconds within that let you know he spotted the thong hugging your body under the sheer dress. he did a once over of your legs, looking at what shoes you were wearing, before he brought his eyes up to look at your face again.
he doesn’t say anything, instantly moving forward and getting rid of the space between the both of you to take your head in his hands and plant his lips on yours. you press a hand against his chest when you feel him swipe his tongue across the top of your mouth so hungrily. 
“you’re going to kiss off my lipgloss sugu.” you giggle, heaving a little as you press your forehead against his, blinking up happily at him. 
his stare is firm as his blown up pupils stare back into you, “sorry pretty girl, couldn’t help myself.”
“and why’s that hm?” you bite your lip through your smile, eagerly waiting for his answer, still forehead to forehead with him, his hands still holding you in place.
his hair is in that half up half down duo you go so feral for, you realize this detail when he says, “you know why.”
“no I don’t,” you drag on, a teasing lilt in your voice
“because,” he drags one of his hands down to caress your neck softly with his thumb, you can see a slight crease in his eyelids at your playfulness, “my girlfriend is trying to get away with first degree murder right now.”
“you like the dress?” you give him a toothy smile and you can slightly catch his gaze turn hungry at the sight of it
suguru suddenly raises you up by clasping his arms behind you, below your butt and on your thigh, so you’re above him when he looks at you lovingly, “like is an understatement.”
“well i like your hair today,” you compliment him, still giggly
“yeah?” he smiles, “i’m glad.”
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it’s your first time ever going to the club with suguru, so there’s some sort of powerful feeling lingering when you enter the loud building holding hands with him. you’re going in belonging to someone and so is he, as opposed to other people going in and hoping to catch a body tonight or at least a good grind on the dancefloor–satoru cough cough.
the white haired maniac’s influence gets all of you a vip table with liquor already waiting for you and when you get there, suguru sits and plants you on his lap, arms loosely wrapped around your waist.
It’s when you look forward, you see toji zenin give you a quick once over from where he’s seated near satoru. and you ignore it, you always do. he’s never made an advance on you ever since you and suguru became a thing, he’s respectful of the relationship, but his eyes can never lie, he’s into you. it’s why you’ve never uttered a word to him and why he doesn’t either. and you can’t really blame him if the purpose of tonight's look was to turn all heads, not just your boyfriend’s.
“you smell good baby,” suguru mutters into your ear as he brushes a hair away from your face, “are you using the perfume i got you?”
you wrap your arms around his shoulders when you respond with a nod of your head and, “yeah. I finally ran out of my old one.”
“good girl.” he smiles appreciatively before placing a tender kiss on your neck
the softness of it makes you giggle a little and crane your neck a little, suguru pinches your side to tease you for it. 
it’s when a certain lullaby of a song comes on that your ears perk up and your boyfriend observes the reaction, looking up at you and rubbing circles into your waist, “what’s up baby?”
within an instant all the girls at your table begin to get up and rush to the dance floor and you turn to suguru, already starting to unwrap his arms from your waist.
“i have to go dance this babe,” you say hurriedly, like a little kid leaving their mom the moment they see the bouncy castle go up.
suguru can say nothing before he watches you run off to join the other girls on the dance floor, eyebrows raised in amusement at your antics then in reaction to your immediate inclination to start dancing. 
you look pretty, he thinks as he reaches over to serve himself a glass of whiskey. 
and he continues to think it as he ‘talks’ to his friends, nodding and giving small mhms when all he’s really doing is watching you live it up at the center of the club. 
you’re ethereal, the only star in that murky puddle of bodies. maybe your dress is part of the reason for all that shine and glow you’re giving off, but nothing beats the pretty little smile on your face that says you’re having a good time. it’s turning him on to be honest. he always wants to shove himself inside of you when you bear that toothy smile at him. 
and other people think the same, he notes. 
he’s always seen the stares, he knows you’re a sight to behold. there hasn’t been a day where he isn’t aware that so many other people want you. he knew it when you were merely the smart, hot girl he had a crush on his lit class, with so many other guys obviously paying a little more attention when it was your turn to speak, and he knows it even more now with your male following on social media and the way he constantly gets sized up just for being next to you. for fuck's sake he's heard toji zenin talk about how bad you are before he knew about your thing with suguru at the halloween party, hell, he still catches the frat president unable to control the way his eyes eat you up when you're near.
“done already?” satoru asks haughtily when he sees all of the girls that went to dance come back heaving a little
it’s been an hour since they all left at the start of that first song.
“y/n’s still there though,” one of them breathes, taking satoru’s drink from him, “she does not stop.”
“yeah, she doesn’t,” suguru laughs a little, looking back at you, still as energetic as when you first got there.
fuck, you're beautiful.
speaking of before,
he’s painfully more aware of it when he notices the number of eyes gravitating towards you from the dancefloor, tables, and the bar.
it’s like a bunny in a room full of wolves. or those scenes where scooby and shaggy are in a dark room and a thousand red eyes pop up to blink at them. the eyes to you ratio is beginning to get a little mind boggling now that he sees it in a real life setting. this is not the handful of guys checking you out when you go to the library with him or the nth guy staring at you when you walk past with your boyfriend next to you. this is a huge club with you in the middle and catching the eye of almost every guy in here, most of whom come to this place with plans of taking a girl home or putting moves on her. 
the thought manifests itself when a blonde frat bro walks up to you and tries to dance with you. suguru’s heart stops a little for some reason. he’s seen guys come up to you before, actually talking to you and trying to get your number, so he shouldn’t feel this irked when he knows the guy is going to be disappointed by your answer. he actually wants to go up to the guy and beat his face in.
the surge of pride that courses through his body is immense when he sees you put a hand between you and the guy and you make an annoyed face, all before strutting off and making your way back to the table. 
he manspreads a little more for you to sit between his legs, draping one arm on your thigh, the other holding onto his whiskey.
“a guy tried to dance with me,” you huff when you sit down, reaching for suguru’s drink, which he hands over without a second thought, now using the other free hand to fully hug you.
“I saw,” he says, perching his chin your shoulder, watching as you take a sip of the whiskey and cradle the cup in your hands.
“dance with me,” you turn to look at him and pout, “i don’t want guys coming up to me.”
“but you look so good rejecting them.” suguru teases, smirking a little at you
when your face deapans, he laughs and hugs you tighter, “we’ll go in a bit. rest your pretty feet for a second, don’t want them to tire out.”
“okay,” you slump into his hold, pouting
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and suguru did keep his promise, like always. he took you dancing after a few minutes of rest and letting you drink the rest of his whiskey.
he protected you from any other guys trying to come up to you, evident in the way no guys even dared get close from a ten feet radius.
he kept you close and let you dance with him, hands appreciatively holding onto you when you pressed your body against his. it was much different to the dancing from that first time at satoru’s party, he was really holding onto you this time. his hands always found your ass, your hips, even the underside of your boobs during every second of every song.
and suguru isn’t a jealous guy, so it was a little weird to you when you saw him notice a guy oogling you and he immediately pulled you in to makeout with him on the dancefloor. it was unlike any other makeout session you had ever had with him before. he was gripping your ass while his other hand held your neck, that wasn’t new, he always did that, but his energy about it was so…all consuming. 
all you know, is that instantly had you horny and you couldn’t help the mewl you let out after he squeezed you in his hold.
“let’s go,” he spoke a bit tensely into your ear so you could hear him past the music.
and you were never one to go against him because everything suguru did always made sense and worked for you, so you nodded mindlessly and said, “okay.”
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when you got to suguru’s apartment, he immediately pushed you against the door and resumed the makeout session he had started at the club. one of his hands was planted against the door while the other roughly gripped your waist to keep you close to him. 
“If you ever see toji, i want you to run the other direction,” he spoke ominously against your lips
the command had you furrowing your eyebrows, you mean of course yes you'd do that, but you never would’ve thought he’d ask it from you. he never really cared to address your actions when it came towards other guys. suguru wasn’t ever jealous…nonetheless, you agree meekly, taken aback by his roughness, “okay.”
all your boyfriend did in response was let out a gruff sound of acknowledgement before pressing his body further against yours and beginning to tug your dress off. he started by pushing down the straps, then pushing the upper half down, including your strapless bra until your tits popped out. 
he pushed both of them together the moment they peeked out and then let a glob of spit drop down onto one of your nipples rather obscenely before he went down to mouth at that same breast. it had you keening, you could feel your thong becoming nonexistent with the way you were starting to drench through it.
a bite from suguru had you squeaking before he continued his ministrations on your other breast while his hands worked on pushing the rest of your dress all the way down, even your thong since it caught onto the tight material of the dress.
you were left completely naked in front of him now and he manhandled you by suddenly picking you up and pinning you against the wall next to the door. he let one hand hold one of your legs to his waist, while the other went under and quickly swiped a finger across your folds with ease due to the wetness
“so easy baby,” he muttered against your lips before plunging a finger all the way in and curving it upwards
“you’re being mean,” you complain, feeling completely flustered at his brash actions
“what’s so mean about making you feel good hm?” he leans back to get a good look at you when he plunges another finger in and starts to push them in and out quickly, watching as your eyebrows knit and you start to mewl, “atta girl.”
“nothing,” you mumble, brainless as you wrap your arms around his neck and hook him in closer with your legs, “ow!”
he started adding a third finger when he felt like you were starting to open up more, however your small complaint started dying into a moan when he increased his pace with the third finger. 
“that’s a lot sugu,” you heave through delirious breaths, flustered at the fact that he was staring so intensely at how you were sucking him in
your comment had him finally looking up at you and you dont know if you’d rather he go back to staring at your pussy, because he was giving that same intense stare to you now. the all heavy pressure of his gaze was entirely being directed at your own eyes now, and how could you meet that same gaze equally when he was three fingers into you and making you moan like a slut.
suguru might have granted you a quick mercy when he leaned against you, quickening the pace of his fingers so you could get louder, and breathed into your ear, muttering lowly, “my cock’s a lot more than three fingers but you always cream all over it.”
the dirty sentence has you pulling suguru closer to you, and trying to trap him where he was so you wouldn’t have to look at him in the flustered state he put you in. but your boyfriend didn’t have it, forcing himself out of your grip, and craning his neck back to go back to looking at you.
he pulled out all three of fingers just to land a sharp slap across your pussy before plunging all of them into you again, “let me watch you baby. be good for me, okay?”
he honestly expects you to be able to answer him when three of his very large fingers are stretching you wide open and curling on that one spot that always has you crumbling, you know he expects you to because he turns his head a little when you don’t answer and lands another slap before going back to fingering you.
“speak up princess,” he orders so easily and so sweetly, like he’s not torturing your body right now
and you do your best to force the words out of you, legs quivering and resisting the urge to writhe in his grasp when you gasp, “ok–okay.”
“good girl,” he almost groans with a snarl as he suddenly stops fingering you open and hoists you over his shoulder, a squeal leaves your mouth at the action.
he’s walking you both to his bedroom, you notice from the path of his hallway made out from your view, and the realization doesn’t last long before suguru brings you down again, then pushes you down and bends you over his bed. he lands a slap to your ass and you can makeout the rustle of him getting naked when he says softly, “grab the pillows and put them under your stomach angel.”
and you listen, reaching easily for both of his large and fluffy pillows, and putting them under your abdomen.
you feel suguru’s heavy length press against your ass and bare pussy when he presses up against you, gripping onto the crease between your thighs and ass, and starts mouthing hot and heavy kisses across your spine. you whine a complaint at the fact that you feel so good, but you know you could feel so much better if he just put it in already.
“what?” suguru notices the pitch that you always make when you’re complaining, continuing his line of affection down your spine
“put it in,” you pout, wiggling your ass for emphasis and hissing a little when you feel his cock graze your lips at the action
suguru gives a last kiss to the bottom of your spine before coming back up and grabbing a fistful of your hair and bringing your head up so he could look at you, “how bad do you want it?”
“really bad sugu.” you mewl, feeling gratification from the sting of his hold on you
“you want me to fill up your little hole? even when we both know you’re gonna start crying that it’s beating your pussy up, yeah?” he questions cruelly 
“mhm,” you nod pathetically, “even if i do.”
his lips twitch a little at your admission and he yanks on your hair a little harder when he lands a sloppy kiss on your lips that has a string of saliva connecting both of your mouths when he pulls away.
he stands back up and lands another stinging slap across your ass, groaning, “my pretty fuckin ass.”
as if he couldn’t get any dirtier, suguru then grabs either of your cheeks and spreads them apart to get a good view of your sex, the sudden exposure of which makes you feel even wetter. that last fact seems of no use to suguru when you feel a large glob of spit land and run down your hole.
you suck in breath when you feel suguru start to rub his tip across your folds.
“sloppy little pussy,” he mutters before pressing into you. and you both groan when he starts to inch himself in even further.
the moan you let out when he completely pulled out and slammed back in was sinful and the noises that followed when he started doing that again and again at a faster pace without mercy had you outright screaming. 
you felt like you were constantly breathless, constantly trying to breathe. he hadn’t ever been this hard on you before.
and you thought you knew what hard was from him before.
“i know, i know,” he whispered against your neck when he pressed himself down against you and started jackhammering even closer to your cervix, so on point with your gspot too that you felt your orgasm starting to build up
a particular gutteral squeal from you had him breathing a “so cute” while he never relented his brutish force against you
“sugu–sugu,” you reached around for one of his arms, heaving, grabbing onto it while he violently moved the both of you, “i’m gonna–mmm–i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum!”
the confession had suguru suddenly changing positions, hooking his arms up and under your armpits to pull you up to stand flush against his body while he slammed up against you ferociously. it unexpectedly had your high crashing against you after a graze of your gspot.
“that’s it baby, that’s it.” suguru consoled when he felt you twitch in his hold and your juices dripping all over his abdomen and cock, “such a good fucking girl.”
all you wanted to do was fall down and rest, but the most you could muster was letting your body go limp in your boyfriend’s unrelenting hold, letting him use you as he pleased.
“ ‘s too much sugu,” you whined as the overstimulation started kicking in
It didn’t get him to stop at all.
“remember what you said earlier hm?” he brought up, breathing heavy as he lifted a foot up to plant it against the edge of the bed. it was leverage for the scream worthy pace he started forcing on you now.
tears started to fall down your cheeks at the overstimulation. it was so good, too good. It was all so sinfully good. 
you felt your walls start to flutter again at your second nearing orgasm when you sniffled from the tears. and although your boyfriend still evilly abused your pussy, he leaned down and moved your face to the side with one hand so he could be face to face with you. 
you thought he was going to kiss you, but instead he started licking your tears off.
it was the catalyst for your orgasm and you thrashed rather hard against suguru, who you could feel suck in a breath at the sporadic clenches of your pussy.
“fuck,” he breathed harshly, pulling you even tighter against him to more easily meet his thrusts and you could feel his cock twitch as a symptom of his incoming orgasm.
that, and he started to speak up filthily.
“Mine–mine–mine–mine.” he reiterated quickly, punctuating each time with a thrust, “fuck ‘s all mine. god can’t get enough of you pretty baby. so fucking slutty and pretty. fuck–fuck–next time i see toji giving you heart eyes im gonna pump my cum inside you so he can see it running down your fucking legs. fuck–you like that baby? what–a–good–good–fucking–girl. tell me you want that baby.”
scrambling for any piece of sanity just to tell your boyfriend what he wants to hear, in hopes of spurring his lust, you moan out weakly, “i want it sugu i want it.”
“yeah? you want him to see me dripping out of your pretty fuckin pussy? god–i fucking–want–it. he’ll never get to fucking know what it’s like to cream this little hole.”
“so–so dirty sugu,” you moan sheepishly at the embarrassing realization that he might just make you cum a third time because of the added spur of his pussy drunk words. 
“pussy’s fucking dirty,” snarls back at you, pulling you closer to him, “can feel you clenching around me. know you fucking like it.”
the shut down of his words had you shaking in attraction to his ability to shut you up like no other.
“never–forget–you’re–mine,” he thrusts through, “ ‘s fucking pussy, your ass, your tits, your body, your pretty fucking face, ‘s all mine. you don’t need anybody but me. i’m yours i’m yours i’m yours. ‘s dick ‘s all yours, everything, baby. take it–take it–take it.” 
his breathing was starting to get heavier and you could feel his abs start twitching against you, a sign of his orgasm building up just as yours was all over again.
so it surprised you when suguru pulled out and threw you onto the bed, your legs hanging off the edge before he picked them up and slanted them up against his body by hugging them close. “come here, come here,” he quickly let one arm go for a second to guide himself into you again before wrapping it around your legs again. he repositioned the one leg of his back on top of the bed for his leverage and leaned forward a bit to go back to his brutal thrusts. 
“wanna see your face when you cum again.” he muttered as he stared at you squealing and moaning lewdly at his ministrations
suguru started kissing and mouthing at your calves while keeping you in a deadlock of eye contact. his cheeks and ears were tinged pink and his hair had fallen out of the half up half down do he had it in earlier. 
the worshipping of your legs and eye contact had to have been the last straw for you, because after a certain lick of your skin, you started crashing, feeling yourself let go across the entire lower half of your boyfriend, resisting the urge to cover your face in embarrassment because he recently made it a point that he really really liked seeing your face when you came.
the point was proven when he followed soon after you, thrusting half haphazardly into you as he blew his load inside of you in time with every squeeze of your cunt. it was accompanied by a litter of painful bites across your calves and heavy breathing from your boyfriend. he looked like he came hard, it felt like he did, considering how every spurt of his cum was sharply thrusted into you, making you wince in pain every time his tip kissed your cervix.
both of you were breathing heavily after, especially suguru, his skin covered in a thicker veil of sweat than you, who was simply taking all of that force he was exerting. he was still holding onto your legs, resting his forehead on the bare skin of your foot that wasn’t covered by your heel. 
his eyes were closed and he licked his lips, a bit tired, as he spoke, “i think i do get jealous after all, i’m sorry.”
his confession made you slightly clench around him, making him suck a breath in at the sensitivity while you breathlessly giggled, “that’s okay, i never said you couldn’t.”
suguru lazily bit your calf again as a sign of retaliation, "you could sound less excited."
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caffeinewitchcraft · 27 days ago
Text
The Fool Dies
Summary: You are a villain known for telling the future. When a Hero kills your right hand, you’ll let the future burn to get her back.
Hero Cowboy kills your henchman after you’ve already surrendered.
Gunshot silence, the scent of iron heavy in your nose, the crippling cold that floods your chest. All familiar sensations, companions you’ve carried with you since you even became a villain, but this time—
This time it’s…different.
You’re on your knees, the rock salt on the road digging into your kneecaps, with your hands above your head, the ghost of your signature smirk fading fast. The street isn’t empty. There are witnesses. The Hero pulls his punches when there are cameras and citizens and teammates. That’s what your plan says. He pulls his punches.
She asked if you were willing to bet her life on that and you said yes.
Your henchman’s body is stuck in the crumpled side of a car. You see her out of your peripheral, the pale oval of her face unencumbered by the mask you’d lovingly bestowed upon her six years ago. Cowboy backhanded it off of her as she was falling to her knees beside you. There is wet and red and twisted metal dancing foggily around her. The air is harsh and cold to breathe. The world is wavering as tears flood your eyes. You can’t blink them away. If you do, you won’t be able to see her just at the corner of your vision, you won’t be able to watch for a breath you already know won’t come, you’re afraid she’ll disappear—
“Clever to pretend to surrender,” the Hero says. He’s like a swan, spreading his arms out so the leather tassels lining the underside of his sleeves look like wings. He tips his head back so that the news cameras rushing in can catch the strength of his jaw under his wide-brimmed hat. She’d managed to singe it in the fight and the light catches in his blue eyes through the resulting hole. “Was it worth it, Prophetess? Was your attempt on my life worth the life of your sidekick?”
Snow falls, a few flakes here and there. The street is lit like the middle of the day thanks to the news cameras swarming out of the side streets now that the fight is over. The fire is being put out and thick curls of smoke rise from just beyond the gathering crowd of onlookers.
Your spellbook is lying a hundred feet away at the bottom of the lake. That’s why the Hero is flaunting himself in front of the cameras, trying to minimize her death at his hand. He did what he had to do. They were wrong, not him. Unfortunate but expected. The Hero always wins.
She’s gone.
The Fool. She always wanted a different name. But you were adamant she wouldn’t receive one until she earned one outside of her service to you. Until then, her name was a reflection of your journey. Your first step, foolish and unknowing, young and ignorant of the consequences. The name felt right when you called it and you never thought to question why. Only now can you taste your own cruel power in the decision. The power of prophecy spelled her fate out in front of you and, like always, you didn’t listen.
Your tattered cloak ripples in the breeze coming off the water. The vibrant purple is stained with soot and worse, the once smooth velvet charred and eaten away at by the Fire Cowboy’s flames.
They don’t remember that you surrendered before he struck. He’s dismissed your uncharacteristic action as an act, and so the world will too. The Prophetess always lies. Isn’t that the first line in your Hero Force file? The Prophetess has no powers of divination; she lies.
The world is magic. You believe it like the sun, like the earth, like the ocean—
--like her—
--and there is magic even here. The spell of your grief rises over your head like a shroud and, for a moment, you are drowning in the dark as the world heaves. You can taste the last cup of coffee she ever gave you going sour at the back of your mouth, the small daily comfort washing away under the metallic scent of her blood. There is a purple current around your thoughts, painful and biting. You will always be in this moment with her jester’s mask – cruel, you are so cruel – leering up at you, closer to your hands than her. How did you let her get so far out of reach?
Why didn’t you hold her close?
“I asked,” Cowboy says from directly in front of you, “if it was worth it?”
The world pulses back into purple focus. Cowboy is looming over you and the smoke of your battle rises into the night behind him. The media jockeys closer the longer you are silent and they’re inching around the car she’s lying against.
“Tell them to get away from her,” you say. Normal, your voice is so normal. Your arms are burning from holding your hands over your head and your neck aches from forcing yourself not to look. You are afraid your tears will fall if you blink so you stare at the gaudy belt buckle in front of your face. Your eyes are purple in the reflection and your face is as pale as hers. “P-please.”
Cowboy must kill all the time. He has no problem glancing towards the slowly gathering swarm and you can feel his eyes on her body as if they were on your own. “They’re trying to help her.”
“She’s beyond helping,” you say. Why would they even try? You can’t even look at her and you can tell that. “I don’t want anyone touching her.”
“They’re not monsters,” Cowboy says. There’s a scoff and then he’s crouching in front of you. He smells like singed leather. “Not like you.”
You’ve never seen the Hero this close. He’s older than you thought, only a few years shy of your age. His stubble is darkened with soot and his nose bears scars of past battles. His eyes—they’re not blue. You can see the edge of brown behind his contacts, the same deep brown as his mask.
“You killed her,” you say.
“No, you did.” He answers you so quickly it’s like he was waiting for those exact words. He tilts his head so the brim of his hat hides his lips in shadow. “She wouldn’t have died if it weren’t for you.”
He’s so confident that you nearly believe him. Your hands ache with phantom bruises from the blows and the weight of your sin falls onto your shoulders like the sky itself coming to rest there.
--------------.
 You see the trajectory of her life lined in gold. Her first day at your firm, her finding out your identity, her wavering in front of the window overlooking the Charlotte skyline as she admitted to knowing exactly who you are and how you’d been hiding more than your fair share of power all along.
That moment shines. She wasn’t the Fool then. She ripped her pencil skirt up the side as you debated her fate. When you asked her why, she said in case she needed to run.
“You would run from me?” you asked, eyebrow raised, conveying with expression alone how ridiculous you found the idea of her getting away was.
“I would,” she said. She grinned unhappily. “You can kill me, but you’ll break a sweat doing it.”
You laughed and held out your hand. When she took it, the outline of her life changed. No longer edged in gold. All black. A night sky all around her.
“You’re a fool for this,” you told her.
“The biggest one around,” she said, chagrined. Then she laughed with you.
You’ll never hear her laugh again.
----------.
There is a protocol for arresting a villain. Cowboy is already so outside of Hero Force code that it takes a while for things to be ready. He stands over you for the better part of an hour, smiling at the cameras, glaring you into submission, waving to the officers that eventually come to secure the scene.
An ambulance comes to take her body away. Only when they load her into it do you move. You watch the side of the vehicle like you can see through it. Cowboy tenses when it starts to drive away, but you don’t twitch. Her body isn’t her. If you start clinging to it now, you will never let her go.
“I know they call you Cowboy,” a woman drawls, “but you aren’t supposed to act like one.”
The reporters leap out of Strongwoman’s way. Barely five feet, Strongwoman is a super hero. Nobody is willing to get too close, regardless of how good and moral she is. The dark-haired woman is one of the few heroes who don’t wear a mask. No villain is stupid enough to think that makes her weak. Her dark eyes catalogue the scene quickly and efficiently. The ground rumbles as she approaches.
“Heat of battle,” Cowboy dismisses. His shoulders relax with another hero to support him and he shakes out his leather vest. Soot and snow falls from him. “Literally.”
“Hm.” Strongwoman finally turns the weight of her attention towards you. “Where’s her spellbook?”
“Bottom of the lake.”
“She hasn’t tried to summon it?”
“Her minion was in charge of that.”
Strongwoman’s voice whips. “We don’t call them minions.”
“Sorry.”
“You should be,” Strongwoman says. She folds her arms across her chest. She always gives the impression of being wrapped in armor and it takes you a moment to realize she’s wearing a tank top despite the cold. The muscles in her arms twitch. “That’s your third body this year.”
Cowboy hisses, eyes flying over her head towards the reporters. “Don’t—” A coalition of people in dark suits are already herding the media away. Cowboy’s lips thin. “Not in public.”
Strongwoman raises an eyebrow. She reaches down with one hand and hauls you up by the collar of your robes. “Fine. The car then.” She frowns at the way your hands hang by your sides. “You didn’t cuff her?”
“She doesn’t have her spellbook.”
“Protocol, Cow.”
“It’s Cowboy.”
“…”
“Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
Strongwoman cuffs your hands behind your back. The familiar sting of power suppressors races up your arms. The last time someone managed to get them on you, the Fool had to break them off once you escaped. You feel her breath against the shell of your ear and her voice whispers, Now who will do it for you?
Her memory is another spell on you. The edges of your life – dark and violently violet – cover your eyes so that you’re blind and deaf to the world around you. Once this new incantation runs its course, you’re sitting in the back of a Hero Force car. The grate between you and the front seat is closed. Beyond it, you can see Strongwoman at the wheel, shoulders vibrating with tension. Cowboy is sitting in the passenger seat like a petulant child.
You read their lips in the rearview mirror.
--review, Strongwoman says. Three. Three deaths on your hands.
This one was just a villain—
Tell that to Foresight. I beg you. See how he likes that excuse.
Cowboy changes tactics. You know the Prophetess is basically an S-Class—
Without her spellbook?
She had it for most of the fight.
Did she?
You lean your head back and close your eyes. Cowboy’s been operating alone for too long. They’ll likely stick him in probation and then transfer him to a hero team with an established leader. Maybe Atlas’ team in San Francisco or Light’s team in LA. Hell, if they really want to punish him, they’ll assign him to Omit’s team in Chicago. The guy’s the most righteous and the most powerless leader out there. Cowboy might actually become a villain if he’s forced to follow that guy’s lead.
“He’ll suffer,” you say in your prophecy voice.
A speaker crackles to life overhead. “No divination,” Cowboy snaps.
“I wasn���t talking about you,” you say.
“Prophetess lies,” Strongwoman says to Cowboy. “Remember, she always lies.”
“It’s still a threat—”
“Prophetess,” Strongwoman says. “Let’s go over next steps. When we get to Charlotte HQ, you’ll be taken to a secure floor where you’ll be asked to remove your mask. It’s important that you understand your identity will remain confidential until your loved ones can be secured—”
“He killed her,” you interrupt. You watch the ceiling of the car. “I can tell you my identity now if you’d like.”
There’s a pause. “That won’t be necessary,” Strongwoman says. Is it just you, or is her voice a little softer? “There is a proper course to this investigation.”
The way she says it makes it sound like she’s promising you something.
It’s like your mind is scrambling for connection to her. There is nothing in what Strongwoman says that reminds you of the Fool. And yet, as the car falls back into weighted silence, one word rings. Proper.
There is a proper way, the Fool whispers. You could fight this spell, but don’t. You sink into the car seat the best you can with your hands behind your back. Hear me out.
Please, you think. By all means.
------.
The first time you ask her to dinner, you’re too hasty. There’s blood on the hem of your robes (possibly a tooth) and the city is still screaming the sirens of your escape. The Fool isn’t shivering like the rest of your henchman; she is standing next to you. Her Jester’s mask is carefully secured with three exact ties despite the haste with which she put it on.
“I can never wear this skirt again,” she says. She is standing on the very edge of the building, the toes of her sensible work shoes a bare inch away from nothing. “This was my best work skirt.”
The city sparks with the purple of your magic, violet vines climbing the buildings and blocking your view of the street below. Your magic is mostly illusion, but all power leaves behind a mark. Where your spell has started to fade remains a charred outline of leaves and flowers against the concrete and stone of the buildings.
While the rest of your minions look a bit like chimney sweeps, the Fool remains untouched. It’s an obvious sign of favoritism; you had room for one other person underneath your cloak and you chose her.
Somehow the memory of her pressed against your side as she used her power to lift you both up to the rooftop makes you blush.
“You don’t have any residue on you,” you say. “You can stitch it up.”
She scoffs. At you. “It’s recognizable, Prophetess.”
It’s really not. The black pencil skirt is the same kind she wore when you first met. How many does she go through? You find yourself smiling at her bare thigh.  Since she first told you she knew who you were, you’ve seen her rip at least three.
“Something amuse you?” she asks. Her voice is short and snappish, the tone she uses when one of the other paralegals aren’t as thorough as they need to be with the briefs. She turns to face you so that the setting sun lights her outline in orange and pink and gold.
“Have dinner with me,” you say.
And for a moment, the hope of her saying yes is as blinding as the sun behind her. Her lips part and you imagine that her eyes widen behind her jester’s mask. A wind picks at the long strands of her hair, sending them fluttering around her like a halo, and you’re standing so close that one brushes your cheek.
“There is a proper way,” she says and then stops. Her right hand twitches at her side. “There is—” is she stuttering? “This isn’t—Prophetess.”
You’re fascinated. She’s always so precise with her words. Even when you threatened her all those months ago she never once floundered like she’s doing now. “Hmm?”
“Hear me out,” she says.
You nod. “Of course.” You lean forward so that you’re only inches away from her. “I’m listening.”
“This…is not the time,” she says. You feel her attention slide to the others and then back to you. She hisses when she finds you even closer. “Prophetess.”
You don’t want to push too hard.
You lean back onto your good leg. “You let me know when it is time,” you say. Your lips quirk. “My little Fool.”
“Oh my god,” she mutters. She turns sharply on her heel. “Get yourself off the roof. I’m going home.”
You watch as she steps off the roof without hesitation. Her telekinetic powers are unique in that they can work on people too. You usually rely on her to get you home.
Maybe you should have asked her afterwards…
You turn to your other minions. Low-level villains without the drive or power to execute their own heists who all owe you the same favor. You raise your brow. “So how are you lot getting me off this roof?”
“You’ve got legs,” the Ace of Swords says.
“I broke my left one,” you say. And, to prove you aren’t lying, you draw away your cape to show that your pant leg is soaked in red.
The Ace of Swords stares. “This is why she said no.”
“Was that what it sounded like to you?” you ask. His surety makes you frown. “For that, you get to carry me down.”
The Ace of Swords groans as the other Swords flee.
-----------.
Your Swords are not always Swords. Sometimes they are Pentacles or Wands or Cups. There’s meaning to the costuming you put your people through, a meaning that escapes Hero Force.
“Where are the others?” Cowboy growls at you over the interrogation table. He keeps aggressively tapping the photos he flung in front of you. Grainy shots of your Wands storming through the Christmas Parade you used as a cover to kidnap the Mayor, blurry screen grabs from security footage of them as Pentacles in the art museum, a delightful brochure featuring them as Cups in a reproduction of Macbeth you used to do some light money laundering. “If you tell us, we might cut you a deal. Six of your people are being prepared for interrogation right now. Want to bet who breaks first?”
The ghost of you smiles behind your dead eyes, leans forward, and sneers in Cowboy’s face. That version of you is delighted by Cowboy mistaking six people for twenty-four and wants to play the interrogation game he’s offering. But the real you feels as heavy as lead and it takes all your strength to watch as Cowboy slowly works his way into a frenzy.
“For too long you’ve been tormenting this city,” he says. He shakes a finger in your face. “I told Headquarters, I said you were a problem when you first showed up in Raleigh. I said, ‘This one is going to come to Charlotte and she’s going to show up with an army.’ I did. I said that and now you’ve got the largest crew in America.”
“Quite the fortune teller, aren’t you?” you murmur. The Fool is at the front of the brochure, all done up as Macbeth. You’d tried to get her to be Lady Macbeth, but she’d insisted she be the main character for once.
You don’t understand Macbeth, you’d said.
His name is the play, she argued.
Lady Macbeth is the mastermind.
Did you read the play?
Did you?
Neither of you had.
Cowboy slams his hand on the table. “Look, Prophetess, I’m the only chance you’ve got at a deal. As soon as those DC heroes get in here, it’s off the table.”
Ha.
“It would be convenient for you if there were no witnesses,” you observe. “More convenient if you get to them before the DC crowd.”
“Witnesses to what?” Cowboy blusters. But he draws back and his gaze is colder than the Hero Force air conditioning that’s already making this room glacial. “To justice?”
How dare he lie to you? Her pale face haunts your peripheral vision. You can see her in the window of the interrogation room.
“To murder,” you say. Your glares clash when you finally look up at him. The soot is still in his stubble and you imagine you can smell her blood coming from his singed leather vest. “She surrendered. We all saw it.”
“She was an A-rank villain with telekinetic powers strong enough to crush my skull,” Cowboy bites back. “I acted in self-defense.”
“With us both on our knees—”
Cowboy whips his arm across the table, scattering the photos of your people into the air. He slams his hand again. “Last chance. Tell me where the rest of your minions are!”
In your holding cells, you stupid—
“You’re a pathetic worm of a man,” you say. You clear your throat. “Sorry. Let me say it in a way you’ll understand.” You adopt your prophecy voice. “The dust Cowboy leaves behind is red, red as the blood on his hands. His golden star is stained—”
You see the blow coming. Not a prophecy, of course.
You just know what heroes do when their buttons are pushed.
-----.
The second time you ask her to dinner, you’re too stupid for her to say yes. It’s not your fault though. How could you have known the Mayor had superpowers? He didn’t do anything besides embezzle taxpayer money!
“Maybe,” she says tightly, dragging your leaden and paralyzed body through the grand halls of the mayoral house, “you could have done a single iota of research instead of sewing all those costumes.”
Feeling is coming back into your hands. They still ache from finishing the elf-themed Wand costumes you’d made for your employees. You think the group costume of Five of Wands came out particularly well. All those little elves holding giant candy cane wands…a perfect symbol for the tumultuous election Season. You flex your fingers and then wince when the Fool’s nails dig into the soft undersides of your arms. “Ouch. Could you—”
“I am not slowing down,” she says. She grunts as she slings you around another corner. “We need to get to the backyard. Ace is meeting us there with the chopper.”
“Such a waste of money,” you bemoan. The chopper had been Two’s idea and all she does is maintain it. She won’t let you fly it until you get your license. “We should’ve got a boat.”
“Great idea,” the Fool snarls. She adjusts her grip so her nails are now digging into your shoulders rather than your arms. “A giant vehicle we have to keep in the harbor. The heroes would never find that.”
“Okay, you have me there,” you say. Your words are crisper now and you can even push a little with your legs as she pulls you into the empty kitchen. “But consider this. I could take you to dinner on a yacht. I can’t take you to dinner on a helicopter.” She stops in her tracks, head whipping down to look at you. Your noses nearly touch. You grin dopily. “Hi.”
“Are you asking me to dinner right now,” she asks in a tone that tells you you’d better be careful with your answer.
She’s so pretty. That’s why you aren’t careful when you slur, “Yes.”
She drags you through the doorway into the backyard. “I sure hope it’s the drugs making you this stupid.”
“Hey—”
“Hey!”
Both of you look back towards the house to where the Mayor has just appeared. He’s wearing the smoking jacket he’d monologued in and the handkerchief he’d used to drug you is hanging limply in his grip.
He points at you. “You. You should be unconscious! Nobody escapes my venom!”
“Oh gross,” the Fool says. “Does he make the sedatives from his body?”
“From his sweat,” you affirm. Then, raising your voice over the growing sound of the chopper and her gagging, “Maybe you should sweat better drugs, huh?”
The Fool coughs and wheezes. You recognize a laugh in the sound. “Don’t antagonize—”
The Mayor bellows and sweat begins to drip from his forehead. He mops at it with his handkerchief and then advances across the grass. “Get back here!”
“Hahaha,” you say, “He was definitely a hero. I know how to push their buttons.”
It becomes a race to who gets to you first; the chopper or the Mayor.
As usual, the Fool wins.
-----.
Cowboy isn’t allowed in your room after hitting you in the face. You can feel him lurking in the hall outside when Strongwoman takes the seat across from you.
“That…wasn’t supposed to happen,” she says and pinches the bridge of her nose. She’s sitting on a special crate they brought in for her. It creaks when she leans forward. “Are you sure you don’t need medical attention?”
The Fool is the only one you let tend to your wounds. Blood stings your eye. Cowboy was wearing his rings when he hit you. “I’m fine.”
Strongwoman sighs through her nose. She’s short and stocky, dark hair and wide nose. There’s a beauty to her when she’s still and quiet. When she moves? She moves like a threat. “We need to know where your base is,” she says.
“Home is where the heart is,” you say. And you killed mine.
Strongwoman’s lips thin. “Look, if you want the guys who speak riddles, we can wait for them. Or you can answer my questions and maybe we can come to some sort of understanding.”
“Interesting offer.” You lean back and contemplate her. “You have my spell book.”
“Except that,” Strongwoman says immediately. She winces. “Sorry. You’re in custody. The spell book isn’t even on-site anymore.”
“Then you can take these off,” you say, nodding to your cuffs. Their faint glow is making you sick. “As a sign of good faith.”
“Tell me everything about your operation,” Strongwoman retorts. She shakes her head. “Nobody believes you’re harmless without your spellbook.”
“Cowboy does.”
“Cowboy is operating under a lot of false assumptions,” Strongwoman says. She leans forward to match you. “Like the one where you have over 30 lower-level villains working for you.”
“Oh?”
“We have six,” Strongwoman says. “Tell me where the rest are and we can negotiate.”
Ha. She doesn’t know either. You are so good at costuming. It’s not like your henchmen can multiply. There are always just six with you and it’s through your costumes that they transform. You’ll have to tell the Fool—
Your mood sours. Tell the Fool. Who’s the Fool now? You’re not in the mood to play games. “I tell you everything, you let me talk to those you have.”
“No—”
“I don’t know everything about them,” you snap. “You’re asking me to betray my people. Fine, I’ll do that. You lot will pry and pull and claw until you find out anyway. But allow me to give them the chance to tell you about whatever family or loved one they haven’t told me about. If I must take them down with me, at least let them beg Hero Force for leniency for their loved ones.”
Strongwoman considers you. “And what do you want in exchange?”
“Let,” you clear your throat. Your eyes are hot and itchy. “Let me have a moment with them. To mourn one of our own passing. To—” you clear your throat “-to lay the Fool to rest.”
The silence sticks to the walls and builds. It presses into you on all sides until you feel like you’re in a coffin. You once told her you would die with her.
Not allowed, ma’am. I don’t think we’d go to the same place.
You swallow hard and stare at your hands.
“Deal,” Strongwoman says finally.
“Thank you,” you say. Your head bows until your forehead presses against your shaking hands. “Thank you.”
“Cuffs will stay on,” Strongwoman says gruffly. She pulls out a pen and pad. The pen looks like it’s made of metal. “Start talking.”
You do.
-----------------.
The third time you ask her to dinner, she stares at you for a long time. It makes you nervous in a way you haven’t been before, her unrelenting stare. Is it because she’s usually so quick? Or could it be because you can feel her eyes on your bare face for the first time since she stood in your office and called you a villain?
The same office you’re currently standing in now as the sun sets behind her?
“I have concerns,” she says at last.
Oh thank god. You’re smiling too widely. “I can work with concerns.”
“Can you?” Her eyes flash gold with the sun. “You keep asking me out while we’re working,” she says.
You blink. “Do I?”
“You do.”
You consider her words, leaning back against your desk. You’re wearing your pinstriped suit today and it’s getting a little tight. She feeds you before and after every meeting you have and you have a lot of meetings. “I’m always working.”
“That’s true,” she says. She turns on her heel. “And that’s the concern.”
You stand up. “Wait, how is that—”
She stops at the door and turns to look at you in a way that steals your breath. “I am not work,” she says. Her lip twitches. “Nor am I a fool.”
“I know, you’re—”
“Ace says they’re already at the meeting place. According to your schedule, we’re running late.”
“We haven’t finished talking.” You try to sound firm, like you used to. Instead, the words come out as almost a plea. “We can be late.”
“You’re never late. Besides, I hear it’s going to be a regular rodeo.”
“Cowboy? Ha! When did he blow back into town?”
“His probation period is up.”
“Lucky us.”
-----.
Lucky us.
You Fool.
--------.
You look over the bowed heads of your employees. Ace, Two, Five, Eight, Ten, and Page. The room Strongwoman led you to looks like the cockpit of a spaceship. Noxious blue light undulates up the concave walls. There are no chairs in here, no pulpit for you to stand behind.
So your employees kneel when you walk between them all to stand in the very center.
“Prophetess,” Ace says. Her voice is thin and high. “We—I’m so sorry.”
Two looks up. Her face is drawn and there’s a deep bruise along the side of it. “We know how it is to lose.”
“You do,” you murmur. You’re aware of the eyes on you here. You saw Cowboy sneering in the observation room on the other side of this one. There are cameras scattered like black stars across the ceiling. “I know you do. But there is a renewal in Death. If—” you swallow hard “-if you allow it.”
You expect fear. What you’re asking of them has happened exactly six times. The favor they owe is not only to you, but to each other. Death is the complete annihilation of everything you know. It can be the end. Or it can be the beginning.
But it takes people to begin.
And you have asked them too many times before.
“Anything,” they say as one.
Your head shoots up. “What?”
Six of your employees – your friends – return your gaze unflinching.
“If I have to redo everything again, I will,” Ace says. She presses a hand over her heart. You know a picture of her son lies there. “Time doesn’t matter. We won’t lose anything but time.”
“We know we can rebuild,” Two says. Her eyes are fierce. “We can do it better.”
“You taught us how to do it better,” Five says.
“I thought you would’ve already done it,” Page says. He scratches the back of his head. “I didn’t eat lunch thinking you woulda done it by now.”
“You didn’t miss much,” Eight tells him. Then, to you, “You did it for us. Again and again and again—”
“—and again and again and again—”
Eight punches Page. “Shut up.” She breathes in through her nose. “Prophetess. It’s okay. We’re okay.”
“The memories you have made will only remain with you,” you remind them. Your hands are shaking. This—you have asked this favor for the sake of others. Did they feel this vulnerable asking? So hopeful and so full of dread. “It will be different. Time changes all and you who have experienced it—”
“—will be like fortune tellers in a strange new land,” Ace says. “We know.”
“We’re okay with it.”
“Are you?”
The time is approaching. You can hear voices outside the room. Ten minutes. She’d promised you thirty, but you figured they’d interrupt sooner. Especially considering what you’re saying.
You breathe in deeply through your nose. You think of her pencil skirt and her flashing eyes and her warm smile. The ghost of her pale face is fading into blackness as this curtain closes.
Your resolve firms. It was a bad ending. As a villain, you’re allowed to rewrite those.
“Tonight,” you say in your whispering voice, “we rebalance the deck.”
The blue in the room flickers. The voices in the corridor gain urgency. The cuffs around your wrist flare and then go dormant.
“I see my son a babe again,” Ace sings. Her eyes burn with your purple power as she brings her hands up towards you. The memory of the favor you granted her rises with her words. “I hold his hand.”
The blue flickers purple and electricity arcs. The Hero Force suppressors are to stop superpowers.
There is very little they can do against fate.
“I see the bus that takes them away,” Page says. He doesn’t sing. His voice is as dry as the desert and he salutes you. His hand glows against his temple. “They get on it.”
“I see my friend at the crossroads,” Two says. She holds her hands palm up and tilts her head to the sky. Tears of neon violet fall down her face. “I follow them.”
“The power I have falls into my hands like rain,” Eight says. She cups her hands in front of her and they fill with your power until it spills over onto the ground. “I drink from it.”
“The harm I caused erased,” Five says. He crosses his arms over his chest and bows his head. A halo the color of lilac blooms over his head. “I atone.”
“I do better,” Ten says simply.  They stand with their hands by their sides. Their eyes burn with your power and they do not flinch. “I don’t bury them.”
Your power crawls along the walls. There are no more blue arcs of power. There are purple flowers and thorns that leave shadows in their wake. They seal the door shut and you are distantly aware that Strongwoman is trying to smash her way inside and can’t.
Fate takes a different type of strength to overpower.
“I see her again,” you say. The tides of the world pull at your long hair. You are drowning in light. The ground shakes under your feet. You think of her life outlined in gold, yourself outlined in gold. Is it possible you can see it glittering there in the unrelenting ocean flooding into you? “I see her again.”
Thunder crashes and everything becomes nothing.
-----------.
You are at your desk. You blink at the pages lying before you. A brief. A case. From four years ago.
You release a trembling breath. You never doubted it would work but it’s a relief to see not so much time has passed. Ace will still share some memories with her son. Page will not have to sit by his brothers’ bedsides again. Ten won’t be trapped in her father’s house.
The rest…the rest will not expect your help. You didn’t help them the last three times. Cruel, maybe. Fate often is.
You think Two is in Charlotte at this point. She mentioned something about a halfway house…
You freeze grabbing your coat as familiar footsteps echo from the hall outside your door. The skyline is twinkling with city lights, but it’s nearly midnight. Nobody should be here, you don’t remember anyone being here at this time—
The door opens without a knock. Her hair is chopped beneath her ears and she has a lip piercing and there isn’t a pencil skirt to be found. But it’s her. It’s her.
“Anika,” you breathe.
Her gold eyes flick to you, to your desk, to your coat in your hand. “You working?”
“N-no,” you say. Your words pile up behind your teeth. Do you remember? Of course you do, otherwise how would you be here. But how? Did I infect you? Did the outline of my life really drag you into my power enough--
Anika waits. When you continue to stare at her, she prods, “I’m not your paralegal.”
“You don’t look like you’ve even finished your degree,” you blurt out. You point. “A lip piercing?”
Anika rubs her piercing. “I’m not the Fool,” Anika says patiently.
A light bulb goes off. “Oh,” you say. “Oh!” You get down on one knee. “Anika, will you marry me—” Anika throws her purse at you. It misses by about three feet. You stand and try again. “I mean, will you go to dinner with me?”
“Yes, I’ll go to dinner with you.” Anika rubs a hand over her face. “Everytime I give you an inch, you take a mile—"
“For the rest of our lives,” you promise.
Anika shakes a finger at you. “Dinner.”
“It’s a beginning,” you say cheerfully.
The best one you’ve ever had.
-------.
Thanks for reading! I do love my supervillain stories and appreciate you for making it through this one! Sometimes I wonder if I can even write flash fiction anymore haha
Next week's story is already up on my Patreon (X)! I'm super excited to share it as it made me laugh writing it. It's an AITA style post from a woman who used to be a Cryptid professionally and feels like she's made a misstep with her Slasher boyfriend.
See y'all next time!
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thelovelyhazel · 1 year ago
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Oh epilating... it hurts so much, but the smoothness is worth it 😤
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dollfacefantasy · 3 months ago
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toji fushiguro x crybaby!fem!reader
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, dacryphilia, size kink, daddy kink
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Thinking about the first time Toji lets his sweet, sensitive girlfriend ride him...
It happens around a month after you and him start dating. It's the first time you have sex. He hadn't had to wait that long to take that step since he was younger, but for you, he was willing to do it again. 
He liked you a lot, and he also figured it'd be worth it. Not only were you beautiful, but your nature - sweet and shy, eyes always downcast with cheeks hot from timidity -  made him crave the moment when he'd get to see you come apart. When your eyes would be rolled back in your skull, your lips parted and wet, those warm cheeks slick with tears rolling down them.
On the night you agree to go all the way, he offers to let you ride. He tells you it's because you'll have more control that way. He's a big guy after all, you'll want to set the pace. On top, you can decide how much you take and how fast you go. So you agree. It seems like the most logical choice in this situation.
In truth, he suggests the position for far more selfish reasons. Reasons that make themself apparent as soon as you finish swiping his swollen tip through the wetness of your folds. He suggested it for this view. You, sinking onto his shaft, forcing yourself lower while whimpering. He could see it all over your face in the way your brows were furrowed and your nose scrunched. The stretch of him inside you stung, but you wanted more of that painful pleasure.
He watches with lust blown pupils as you lower atop his thighs. Your cunt swallows each inch of his cock one by one, the walls squeezing around him a blissful massage. He can feel your slick leaking from you, dribbling down to his sack.
"Toji. It-" you start, cut off by your own whimper. God, your eyes were already brimming with tears. He has to restrain himself from blowing his load in that moment. "I can't move. It's too much."
The scarred side of his lips curves upward into a smirk. "Too much? But your pussy's takin' it so well, princess," he croons.
His hands find your hips, fingers wrapping around your waist and thumbs petting your skin in small strokes. He keeps you steady as you adjust to the thick length filling you up.
"It's too big. Can't do it," you pout, a droplet of water falling from your eye. Your lip wobbles and his dick throbs inside you.
"Yes, you can. Do you need some help?" he asks, gently mocking you.
You're quick to nod, no shame behind your agreement. Those hands on your midriff grip tighter and tenderly lift you up. And then they drop you back down.
He goes so slow, but from the sounds you're making, you'd think he was jackhammering up into you. You choke out moans and mewls while your fingers dig into the spheres of his shoulders, leaving little crescent indentations on the smooth surface of his skin.
"That's right, baby. Hold on tight. Daddy's gotcha," he grunts.
You were so fucking wet. Gushing down his length, marking the sheets beneath him with a darkened splotch of arousal. He keeps bouncing you in a steady rhythm. Your head had fallen back, leaving your throat exposed to him.
He takes the opportunity presented with no real hesitation. His mouth latches onto your neck and kisses the skin, licking at the warmth and nipping love bites onto the flesh. While he's doing this, the frequency of the lewd noises between your legs increase in frequency. You're starting to bounce yourself too now.
More whimpers fall from your lips in between hiccuped sobs. He watches in awe. This is why he wanted you to ride. He could be involved and control things when needed, but he could also watch you fuck yourself dumb.
You keep rising and falling, bouncing up and down on his lap. Tears pour from your eyes as if they're coming from an endless reservoir.
"Atta girl," he murmurs, his hands sliding up to your breasts. He pinches and tweaks your nipples, savoring the extra whines it brings out of you. He watches the little buds perk up, almost calling out to his mouth to engulf them.
"Am I- 'm I doin' good?" you whimper, pulling his attention upwards.
"Mhm, doing great. You keep bouncing on daddy's lap. We gotta break in that cute little cunt, yeah?" he says. Not that you notice it, but he grins. Of course you wanted his approval. Just like when you'd take him to the mall with you and come out of the fitting room in a new skirt to show off, you wanted to know that he thought you were doing something right.
You nod, your eyes bleary from tears and the mental fog you were fucking yourself into. His palms fall down to your hips again to aid your movements when needed. One of them slides to your center though to give your clit a few little rubs. The bundle of nerves was aching for his touch. He could tell because when he touched it, your face practically went lax the way you melted from the fiery pleasure in your core.
"F-fuck," you stutter. Your waterline overflows with tears while your eyes droop from your proximity to release.
He chuckles and guides your body close to his. Your hips still try to maneuver up and down, but he knows he has to take over now. Your face slots into the crook of his neck, and he leans back, tilting your body upwards into a position that he can thrust in.
"Such a good girl. You did such a good job for your first time riding," he coos. His cock starts sliding in and out of your hole. You're soaked, so there's no resistance. Just his skin on yours, his fat balls swinging with each pump of his hips.
"Thank you," you whine.
"Let me finish it out, baby. It's too hard for a pretty thing like you. Y'got nothing in that little head of yours right now, just hot air between those ears, hm?" he asks.
You nod lazily and hum, a low and pleasured pitch vibrating from your throat.
"Thought so. We'll get you going longer eventually. Gonna have this pussy trained to take me however I need," he grunts.
He keeps fucking into you. His heels dig into the ground for leverage so he can rock up and down, smack his hips against yours. The pace is fast but deliberate. Each stroke strikes a pleasure spot and knocks you closer to the edge. Every swivel of his hips caresses a vein on his shaft and brings him nearer to shooting his hot, sticky cum inside you.
He can feel your body getting taut with the need to explode, so he starts hammering faster. It cracks whatever resolve you had left and brings full-fledged cries from you. Tepid tears trail down your cheeks and throat and pool against the column of his throat. It drives him wild.
He fucks you over the edge, not stopping at all when you squeal out 'daddy' for him. His eyes roll back because your cunt gets impossibly tighter. It feels like you want to milk him, want to squeeze every last drop of release from him. Lucky for you, he's willing to give you all that he can.
His hips sputter as they dart up, instinctively seeking the warm embrace of your pussy to unload into. His motions get messy now; some cum is fired into your center while some smears and leaks to the outside from the erratic nature of his thrusts.
You both pant when the afterglow washes over you like sun through a beautiful stained glass window. Your body melts on top of his. It feels like you're one and not just because his cock is softening inside of you. Your cries quiet to sniffles and tears stop flowing. He holds you tight and rubs your back.
"If you cry like that while riding, I can't wait to see what you do when I get your legs over my shoulders," he mutters with a smug lilt to his voice.
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cilliansmesoftly · 3 months ago
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chase it
pairing: tyler owens x fem!reader
summary: tyler has been harboring a severe crush on the team’s new meteorologist, but he’s scared she’s smart enough to reject him.. why can’t he follow his own mantra?
warning: best friends to lovers, love confession, angst, kissing, one bed trope, virginity lost, steamy smut!
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ she haunted his dreams, she plagued every thought running through his head. all the meaningless hookups he’s had could never compare to you, and he hadn’t even had you yet. he hasn’t had a kiss, hell, he hasn’t gotten more than a proud pat on the back from you. so why couldn’t he escape the hold you, unknowingly, had on him?
his entire brand was based on chasing fears. to not let it hold you back from the things you want most. tyler had you in some ways, at least. he had you as a best friend, his most trustworthy companion. the two of you got along so well, was it worth ruining?
he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. he’d much rather have a tornado pick him up and throw him into the sky than risk you not being in his life. you were too important to the team, to the cause, and to him. you got offered the opportunity to prove your meteorology skills on the field rather than behind a computer, and you couldn’t pass it up. you risked your career for this, and tyler would be damned to be the one to take that from you just because of a silly, gut-wrenchingly painful crush.
the team was at a local motel in oklahoma after a long day of chasing. dozens of other teams were in the parking lot, tailgating. tyler could hear the strum of guitars, singing, and laughter outside the window of his room. it was small, it had a strange smell that he didn’t want to know the source of. his eyes were fixed onto the box tv sitting on the dresser before a knock was heard at the door.
tyler sighed before getting up, his legs and back sore from how hard he had rode the truck today. the poor red dodge was battered and beaten from debris and tyler’s body was slammed around in his seat, but god, he loved it. he loved the chase, the adrenaline, the thrill. he could do it all day everyday without so much as a thought of fear. however, his breath hitched in his throat when he opened the door to reveal you in all of your gorgeous glory.
“hey.” you sighed out with a small smile. tyler cleared his throat and opened the door wider to let you in from the cool springtime breeze. “the motel doesn’t have anymore rooms. i’ve talked to every employee and every manager i could find.”
“just stay with me.” he spit out fast and without thinking. you’re best friends, you love each other. what could go wrong with sharing a bed for one night?
“oh, thank you.” you sighed in relief and wrapped your arms around him, ty took a step back from the impact, but quickly recovered and took in as much of your touch as you would give to him. “you mind if i shower real quick?”
“no, go ahead. you got clothes?” he asked once she stepped out of the embrace. he would kill someone to see her in one of his shirts. he imagined it baggy on her frame, her legs out on display and barely anything underneath the fabric. he imagined himself running his fingers down the smooth, soft skin of your thigh as you cuddled into him.
“did you hear me?” you snapped yours fingers in front of his eyes with a smile etched onto your face. he shook his head to clear the thoughts and raised his eyebrows, silently telling you he did, in fact, not hear what she said. “i asked if i could borrow one of your shirts, if you don’t mind.”
“i don’t mind at all.” he said, walking around the bed to his duffel bag. he pulled out one of his favorite shirts, it was worn and comfortable, and he tossed it to you. you caught it with feeble hands, giving him a death stare. he knew you were clumsy and he used it to tease you any chance he could. he chuckled at you, watching as you just shook your head and walked into the small bathroom.
if his thoughts were running before you got here, now they were sprinting a full on triathlon. racing and branching off into a million different scenarios for how this night would go. maybe it wouldn’t go anywhere. maybe he’d put out the fire that was burning him alive, eating him up with desire. but maybe it would turn into something more. maybe he’d chase his feelings, maybe he’d ride this fear and turn it into everything he’s wanted since he met you.
if you feel it, chase it.
he repeated his tagline more than a hundred times in his mind. telling himself over and over and over. and in the middle of telling himself one last time, you stepped out of the bathroom and his breath was stolen from his lungs. your hair was wet and it was dripping onto his shirt that fit you so well. it suited you, wearing his clothes. it felt good, it felt normal.
“i feel so much better.” you smiled, climbing into bed. tyler was sat on the chair in the corner of the room and you frowned at how far away he was. “you coming to bed?”
tyler nodded and stood up, he pulled his shirt over his head and you swallowed. his abs were carved and chiseled, a deep v-line at the end of them, just above his belt and leading into his blue jeans. you had to stop yourself from staring before he caught you. he sat on the edge of the bed, his back facing you, as he pulled off his boots. you almost reached out to graze your fingers over the tanned skin of his back, but you caught yourself. you can’t fall for the face of your team, you told yourself. even if, at night when you were all alone, you imagined the two of you together. you thought about living together, chasing storms for a living and making the most out of chasing your fears, making the most out of life.
you thoughts were interrupted as tyler started to unbuckle his belt and pull his jeans down. you smiled when he caught you looking, so you tucked your face into the pillow on his side of the bed so he could undress.
“you can watch, darlin. you know i don’t mind.” you could hear the smirk in his voice and you shook your head against the soft pillow with a giggle.
“shut up.” your voice was muffled by the pillow, making tyler laugh under his breath. he pulled a pair of grey sweatpants out of his bag and slipped them on, collapsing on top of you on the bed. you groaned under his weight, trying to toss him off, but he wouldn’t budge. “ty, i can’t breathe.” you laughed out. he only snuck his hands around your waist, tickling your sides. you shrieked, your knees trying their best to buck tyler off of you. your laugh was music to his ears and his cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. he braced his legs to straddle you, so you couldn’t escape his unrelenting hands. you were wheezing, trying to toss and turn away from him.
tyler suddenly stopped and as you were trying to catch your breath, his lips met yours in a soft, but quick kiss. your eyes shot open and you gently pushed him off of you. tyler sighed, opening his mouth to apologize, but you cut him off.
“i can’t do this, ty.” the nickname falling from your lips made tyler feel like a child getting scolded for coloring on the walls.
“why not?” his voice was pleading, his eyebrows were pinched, making a cute little wrinkle appear on his forehead. you sighed, bringing your knees to your chest.
“because you’re my boss. you’re the leader of our team. i don’t want to jeopardize our relationship.” you shook your head. your brain was thinking clearly, logically. but your heart, on the other hand, was screaming at the top of its lungs, trying to get you to confess how you feel, how all you’ve ever wanted in life was someone like tyler. someone who makes you feel safe, secure. someone who would push you to live life to the absolute fullest, never letting fear take the wheel.
“we wouldn’t jeopardize it, y/n. i-i like the shit out of you, baby.” he dropped his head onto the bed in slight defeat before looking back up at you. “we can make it work.” his heart was pounding out of his chest, he was begging you to let this happen. he couldn’t face you if you didn’t.
“i-” you sighed, shoving your face into your hands. in and out, you breathed. thinking of every possible outcome that this could bring. “what about all of your other girls? the ones you take up to your room at night and never speak to again? are you gonna do that to me?”
“y/n, i would never to that to you.” he said lowly, taking your hands away from your face. your eyes were slightly watery and red-rimmed. his heart broke at the sight and vowed in his mind to never be the one to make you look like this again.
“how do i know that? you’re tyler owens. tornado wrangler, and known lady killer. how can i be sure that you won’t leave me for someone better?” you asked. you were honest in your questions, voicing every doubt you had, though there were only a few.
“there is no one better. there is no one that knows me better than you, y/n. no one who makes me laugh more, no one who makes me smile more, no one who can ground me like you, even in the face of a disaster.” he climbed to your side, taking your face in his hands to make you look at him. a slight tear fell down your cheek and tyler thumbed it away. you sighed, looking down while shaking your head.
“what if this isn’t a good idea?” you asked, your voice small and full of trepidation. he scoffed and pulled you closer, practically sitting in his lap now.
“i haven’t had an idea this good in a long time. you can vouch for that. most of the choices in my life aren’t very smart, but this one?” he tilted his head to meet your gaze. “i’ve had to build up so much courage and strength to even hint that i wanted this. i was scared.”
“you? scared?” you scoffed. “what’s all that talk about riding your fears then?”
“i guess i felt it… just took me a while to realize if i didn’t chase it, it’d slip from my fingers.” he kissed the top of your head and you leaned up to capture his lips. it was slow, gentle, telling him everything he needed to know about how you felt. you wanted this.
“you know, you took my breath away when i first met the team.” you said against his lips, and he groaned, leaning his forehead onto yours.
“all these months we’ve wasted, we could’ve had each other on the first day. i thought my legs were gonna give out when we picked you up at the airport. you were the most beautiful thing i had ever laid eyes on, baby.” his words made your heart ache, no one had ever said anything so sweet to you before and you knew were in good hands.
“no day with you is wasted.” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him down to kiss you. you swiped your tongue on his bottom lip, begging to explore him. he didn’t even think before opening his mouth wider and intertwining his tongue with yours, massaging all around. he groaned into the kiss like this is all he’s ever wanted, which is true. his hands found your waist and pulled you under him. one of his knees were between your legs and the other was braces beside your right leg. he brought his knee up higher, allowing you to grind down on the soft fabric of his sweatpants. your mind was racing again, trying to find the right time to tell tyler. as if he could sense your thoughts, he pulled back slightly, panting.
“what’s wrong, baby?” he hand came up to caress your cheek and you leaned into his touch before hiding into his forearm. “what is it?”
“i’ve- i’ve never…" you trailed off with a frustrated huff. tyler didn’t catch your drift, looking at you with confusion, but also patience and admiration. “i’ve never done this before, ty.”
“oh,” he replied, and you sighed into his skin. “we can wait.”
“what?” you looked back at him, your brows furrowed slightly.
“if you want to wait, that’s okay. we don’t need to rush.” he said gently.
you thought for a moment. you trusted tyler with every bone and fiber of your being. there was no one else you thought would be more careful and gentle than him.
“can you teach me?” you looked at him with hopeful eyes and tyler had to hold back from bucking into you at your innocent expression. so cute, so sweet.
“yes, baby.” he sounded so sincere, proudly honoring the fact that he would be the first you trusted enough to guide you through this. “as much as i love how you look in my shirt, can i take it off?”
you nodded, but he tsked with a shake of his head.
“gonna need your words, sweetheart.”
“yes.” you breathed out, your body tingling in arousal and slight anxiety.
“relax.” he said into your ear before kissing your cheek. his fingers grazed your sides where his shirt had rode up on you, he slowly slid it up your body and over your head, tossing it onto the motel room floor. “i got you, okay?”
“okay.” you nodded.
“you’re breathtaking.” he whispered, leaning back to take you in. the valley between your breasts was beckoning him to kiss the skin, to mark his way all the way down the length of your body and all the way back up. “never seen anything so pretty.”
you blushed at his words, covering your face with your hands, but tyler whined and brought them back down.
“don’t hide from me, darlin.” he toyed with the hem of your panties. a simple cotton pair that had lace trim at the top, he looked up at you for approval before sliding them down your legs and into the pocket of his sweats. his body shivered at the sight of your perfect center, glistening in arousal. he brought his index finger up to gather some of the slick and spread it around your core, unabashedly licking the rest off his digit.
you moaned as he kissed your clit, swollen and pleading for attention. tyler cooed as you writhed underneath him. “gotta be still, honey.”
“can’t.” you breathed out, feeling his breath hovering right over you was torture. tyler laid his forearm over your belly, a firm pressure to keep you from moving. his mouth was all over you, sucking your clit, kissing the inside of your thighs. you were a whining, moaning mess. as you leaned up a bit to watch him, you caught him rocking his hips into the mattress. a filthy, heavenly sight that had you falling back with a cry of pleasure. he was getting himself off on eating you out and you couldn’t take it anymore. “ty, i’m close.”
“hold it, darlin’.” he ordered, prodding his fingers against your hole. “gotta get you ready for my cock, doll.”
you could’ve sworn you saw stars in your vision. the stretch was beautifully painful and your hands white-knuckled the sheets at the sensation. tyler was still working your clit and it took every ounce of strength you had not to come. he slowly let you get used to the feeling then added a second finger and you hissed, trying to pull back. “she’s a tight little thing,” tyler looked up at you. “not sure if i’ll fit in there.”
you gasped as he started to rut his digits into you, scissoring and stretching your walls to get you better fit for taking his cock.
“ty,” you breathed his name, already working up to your orgasm again. you were drunk off of his touch. it only got harder to hold off your climax as tyler brought your legs to sit over his shoulders, completely drowning himself in your slick. his eyes were closed, looking like the face of a man who hadn’t eaten in days. with a few more thrusts of his fingers and his lips working wonders on your clit, your walls clenched around him and your back arched off the bed. tyler groaned into you as you came, bringing you impossibly closer to his face. he worked you through your orgasm, licking up your slick and making he sure he got every last bit, almost too precious to waste.
“you taste like fucking candy.” he muttered, crawling up your body to plant a messy kiss to your lips. you could taste yourself on his lips and you swiped your tongue over his bottom lip before indulging in him. everything about tyler, you loved. you loved how the stubble of his cheeks felt against your chin and cheeks. you loved the way you could feel his cock against your tummy in his sweatpants.
“take them off.” you said against his lips, woozy from your orgasm and only driven by pure lust. your heels pushed back on the hem of his sweats and tyler laughed at your impatience.
he made a show of undressing. teasingly climbing off your body and tugging the material down his legs before stepping out of them. your mouth watered at the sight of him through his boxers, looking painfully hard. he smirked as he watched how your face dropped when he finally slipped off his underwear. you recovered quickly, sitting up on your elbows to beckon him to you.
he leaned down, kissing your ankles and dragging his tongue all the way to your belly before pressing a kiss there too, he made his way all the way to the valley of your breasts. his lips and tongue sucking marks onto your skin and his hands caressing your breasts.
“you’re such a tease.” you whined collapsing back onto the pillow in frustration. tyler laughed, laying his head down on your chest.
“i’m just enjoying this.” you raked your hands through his sandy blonde hair, relishing in the way he gazed so deeply at you. “need to cherish this.”
“if you don’t fuck me in the next two seconds i’ll call boone to come do it.” you said it with a straight face, fighting the sides of your mouth to not quirk up.
“don’t say that ever again.” he rumbled seriously, his big hands spreading your legs wider for him. “this is mine.”
“prove it.” you challenged. your dominance wavered as ty let the tip of his cock gather your arousal, hitting your clit as he rocked against you. he bent down to kiss you, trying to distract you from the stretch as he slowly pushed into your heat. “oh, dear god.”
“you got it, baby.” he pushed back the hair on your forehead, kissing your cheek sweetly. your hands found solace in his hair again, pulling at the root when he bottomed out. tyler groaned at the pain, already holding back from his own peak. “you feel so good.”
“y-you can move.” you encouraged, panting as if you were running a marathon. tyler slowly pulled out and pushed in, cherishing the sweet little sounds you let out before rocking into your hips faster.
the sounds of your wetness, the joint moans and groans coming from both of you, skin hitting skin, it all had your head feeling dizzy. you were so high on the moment. the adrenaline was coursing through your veins, you wished this could happen every night after a day of chasing.
“you’re doing so good, angel.” tyler’s voice broke you out of your thoughts and you cupped his cheeks to pull him into a kiss. your legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locking at the small of his back. the new angle forced him even further into you. tyler nipped at your bottom lip, his hips moving to the rhythm of their own song. “i’m getting close.”
“turn me around.” you gasped against his lips. tyler didn’t think twice before pulling out and turning you, hoisting you up so you were on your hands and knees for him. he marveled at the sight, slipping back into you easily. you both moaned at the feeling. ty was hitting your spot with every thrust and you had to muffle your loud noises with the pillow under your head.
“you’re all mine.” he growled into your ear, his hand gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail and pulling you up so your back was flush against his chest. his left hand reached around your body to circle your clit and you had to fight the urge to collapse back onto the bed. your bodies had a slight sheen of sweat to them and the room started to feel stuffy and hot. “say it.”
“i’m yours.” you mumbled.
“look at you, cock drunk.” he teased, your walls were clenching him with every thrust and he was losing his pacing. you felt so good, better than he imagined. “you wanna ride me?”
you didn’t have to say anything, you felt him pull out and suddenly you were on his lap, rubbing his cock through your folds, your head thrown back in bliss. tyler could come right then. to know he was the one making you feel like this while looking like that. you looked like an angel had just fell down from heaven and landed in his lap. you lined him up with your entrance, the two of you watching as his cock disappeared inside of you. you started to bouncing on your feet, the spongy spot inside of you getting abused with every movement you made. your knees were buckling from the pleasure and tyler caught on, matching his thrusts with your movements. his hand was rubbing up and down your back, the intimacy of it all made your heart ache.
“i love you.” your lips spewed the words faster than you could think. tyler flipped the two of you back over, kissing your lips before leaning back. his rough hands, calloused from work, dragged up your thighs, to your calves bringing them up to rest on his shoulders, he hugged your legs so that his face was all cute and smushed between them. his hips never wavered and you were so, so close to your peak.
“i’ve always loved you.” you came just as soon as the words left his lips and he was right behind you. his cock twitched as he emptied everything he had inside of you, your legs fell off his shoulders and he collapsed onto you.
the next few minutes were spent catching your breath, fingers tracing skin, and sweet kisses.
“i’ll be right back.” tyler whispered against your lips, getting up and going into the bathroom. you cuddled against the duvet and watched him in awe. he came back with a wet rag, and he carefully spread your legs to clean up the mess you two had made. you hissed at the overstimulation and he kissed the inside of your thigh in apology. he threw the rag into the bathroom without even looking to see where it went and cuddled back in bed with you.
“i meant what i said.” you said quietly, you cheek pressed into his warm chest. “i love you, ty.”
“i meant it, too. ever since i first saw you, i knew it.” tyler’s fingers traced the skin of your back, drawing unknown shapes. “i’ve always loved you.”
“how in the hell are we gonna explain this to the team”? you shook your head against him. you could only imagine the looks on their faces when the two of you walk out of your room in the morning. the once best friends turned to lovers overnight.
“i’m pretty sure they all know.” he laughed under his breath. “i overheard boone and lily making a bet about when we would get together.”
“that’s what they were talking about?” your head shot up in shock and tyler smiled at the expression on your face. “well, lily knew i had a crush on you, like, months ago.”
“yeah?” he asked. “i told boone about mine, too.”
“i wonder who won the bet.” you giggled into his chest.
the room fell into a comfortable silence, you and tyler just enjoying each others presence before sleep finally took over you. tyler fell asleep soon after, your bodies intertwined and hands laced together.
the morning after, you and tyler got a text from boone about a huge cell forming a few miles from where you were. scrambling to get ready, the both of you walked out of the motel room to greet the team who all looked at each other with knowing smiles.
“don’t say anything.” you scowled at the team, who all shrugged like they didn’t know what happened. tyler smiled, his arm wrapping around you and slipping his hand into the back pocket of your jeans.
“sorry about the room thing, y/n.” boone apologized to you, but your brows furrowed.
“how did you know about that? you were asleep.” boone smiled and took a few steps back.
“i might’ve slipped the manager fifty dollars to tell you there weren’t any rooms so that you and ty would hookup.” he said sheepishly, his feet turned to be ready to run at any time. lily shot up from her seat on the tailgate of the truck.
“what?!” she shrieked. “you cheated, asshole!”
“you owe me some money, lil.” boone stuck his tongue out, but sprinted away as lily started running after him.
“welp,” tyler watched as his team went into full defense mood, trying to get each member on either boone’s side of logic or lily’s. “think the tornado will wait on them to stop fighting?”
“fat chance.” you leaned against his chest, looking up at him. tyler looked down and his heart melted at the sight of you. finally his girl is in his arms. he could swoon. “i think we owe boone a thank you.”
“how long do you think they’ll fight?” he didn’t even look over the bickering friends. his eyes were solely focused on you. “can i sneak you back into the room for a few minutes?”
you thought for a moment, watching boone and lily cuss each other like siblings before looking up at tyler. “yes sir.”
the two of you ran off, back to solace of the room, tornados to be wrangled, but you couldn’t care less. if you feel it, chase it.
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riki-dazed · 4 months ago
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"Goodnight, my Riki."
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NSFW smut · soft titty sucking >.< requested · wc: 933
Your boyfriend had you worried for weeks on end, he was under so much pressure back at his company, working long nights in which you could tell were beginning to take a toll on him. He'd brush you off, telling you that he was okay, and not to worry about him every time you began to question him.
Though, this night was different.
A cup of hot tea in one hand, and a book in the other, you strolled into the bedroom to find Riki sat on the edge of the bed the both of you shared. His shoulders were slumped, face hidden behind his large hands as he rubbed at his features. The soft hum of the city below you was all that was heard in the silent room. Your gaze softened as you set your items aside, concern etched your face.
You stepped in between his thighs, your hands settled on either sides of his shoulders, "What's going on, love?"
The look on Riki's face in which had met your gaze caused an ache to swirl within your chest, that was the first time you had seen him so down. His eyes were weary, lifeless even.
"I'm just so tired." His voice was barely above a whisper, a faint crack had found its way into it, also. You knew he wasn't just merely speaking of that specific evening, but of the multiple weeks worth of pressure that had finally caught up to him.
Your gentle hands found their way into his hair as you smoothed over the soft strands, you pulled his face into your tummy, allowing him to rest against your warmth for a few moments. "I know, love, I know..."
His hands trailed up your legs, resting atop the back of your thighs.
"I don't like you seeing me like this," Riki's words were muffled as he spoke into your nightdress, it had sounded like he was holding back tears. "I'm sorry for bringing the mood down."
"You have nothing to be sorry for. You work hard, you're allowed to feel this way," you cooed, caressing your boyfriend. "Let me help you feel better, okay?"
He lifted his head off you, a look filled with gratitude had soon met your eyes. He gave you a gentle nod.
You swiftly moved to sit against the headboard, your legs stretched out. You ushered Riki to move to you, and so he did. You pulled his large figure to gently lie against your own. He rested his head on your chest, feeling the warmth and softness of your skin beneath his cheek.
Without another word, you began to trace your fingertips through the strands of his hair, your touch was soothing, and tender. Riki let out a sigh, the tension in his body had slowly began to melt away. As he laid there, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat, he felt a sense of peace he hadn't felt in many weeks.
"Y/n," Riki murmured quietly, "Can we stay like this for a while?"
Your fingers continued their gentle caress, "You can stay as long as you need to, my love."
Riki shifted within his spot ever so slightly, his lips brushing against the lace of your nightdress as he brought a hand up to your chest. His fingers pulled at the material, revealing your breast closest to his face. His hand moved to cup the soft skin, in which had caused you to hold him tighter. Your heart ached with love, and the desire to ease his pain away.
Riki's eyes fluttered shut as he brought his lips to your nipple, his tongue escaping between his lips to lick at the sensitive nub. He soon began to suck at it gently, the intimate act brought the tired boy a sense of calm, and security. You continued to stroke his hair, your other hand traced smooth patterns against his upper back. He hummed in contempt, losing himself within the feeling.
"It's okay, Riki. I'm here. Just relax."
The world outside faded away as he focused on the feeling of you holding him. You couldn't help but let a few sighs of contempt escape your lips, too. The feeling of having your boyfriend's tongue play with you like that felt heavenly.
The stress, and anxiety in which had plagued his innocent self seemed to dissipate within the moment, it was replaced by a profound sense of comfort. Riki felt safe within your grasp.
Although he felt a sense of vulnerability, he also was incredibly grateful. In your arms, he didn't have to be strong or composed; he could simply be himself, raw, and open.
As he continued sucking at your nipple, his hand began to explore the contour of your other mound. His touch over the lace was light, unhurried. You responded to his palm pressing against you with a quiet sigh, your body had completely relaxed into his grasp at that point.
Although the moment shared between the both of you was incredibly explicit, and intimate, him kneading at your breast like that had caused worries, and stresses of your own to melt away with his touch. The two of you were just so good for one another, physically, and mentally.
After what had felt like half an hour of having Riki fondle you gently, his breathing became more even. Your whispered words of reassurance had finally coaxed him towards a calming sleep.
The steady rise and fall of his chest as he drifted off into a calm slumber brought an appreciative, sleepy smile to your face.
"Goodnight, my Riki."
...
Copyright © 2024 riki-dazed. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | Do NOT edit, copy, translate or repost any of my work without permission.
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flickering-chandelier · 4 months ago
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My Pain Fits in the Palm of Your Freezing Hand
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel and Reader are mutually pining for each other, but they don’t know it. Reader has been feeling all kinds of insecure lately, and as soon as Azirel figures out what’s wrong, he’s determined to help her see just how amazing she is.
Based on this request! 🩷
Warnings: body insecurities, a little angst
Word Count: 2.2k  
Azriel stared at the ceiling in the dark, his wings splayed out beneath him in his gigantic bed at the House of Wind.
His shadows danced around him, seemingly trying to coax him to sleep already, but he couldn’t. He hadn’t been able to for weeks. 
There was something going on with you, he could tell. You were being more distant than usual, quieter. Not just with him, but with all of your other friends, too. 
Attempting to push the worry aside, he instead replayed scenes in his mind of you smiling at him, leaning your shoulder against his, brushing your fingers with his. 
That had been the one thing that he couldn’t stop thinking about. You had never shied away from his scars, had never even looked at them for too long or asked questions. You had always touched him with your soft skin without any hesitation or reservations, right from the beginning.
Maybe he had fallen in love with you right then, that first time your hand brushed against his. He couldn’t be sure. 
It didn’t matter, though, not really. You clearly saw him as a friend. 
That was always the way, wasn’t it?
He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut, his concern flooding through him once again.He wasn’t sure you had someone to talk to, someone that you could unload your worries on. 
Of course, he wanted to be that person for you. He just wasn’t sure how to get there. 
It was remarkable really, how he could be so entirely exhausted from the day, yet his mind wouldn’t cease whispering to him about you.
At this rate, he would be lucky if he got even an hour’s worth of sleep before the sun came up. 
---
Azriel looked like he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. Again.
He was still the most beautiful man alive, obviously. But those bags under his eyes couldn’t lie to you as well as the shadowsinger himself could. 
And you knew it had been a lie when you had asked him if he was okay before Rhys’s inner circle meeting and he had offered you that crooked smile and reassured you that he was. Because Az only loses sleep when something is really bothering him. 
His eyes settled on you across the table as Rhysand and Cassian bickered about some matter in the mountains. You readjusted your dress, knowing that it wouldn’t do anything to actually conceal how uncomfortable you had been feeling in your own skin these days. 
It had been a nightmare getting dressed this morning, as it had been for weeks. Nothing about you had really changed, but recently you were having a more difficult time accepting that all of your dresses prominently showed your belly, the curves, and rolls that were not in flattering places. 
Azriel’s eyes tracked the movements of your hands smoothing down your dress and you felt even more self conscious. It was a great effort to stop squirming and keep your hands at your sides, forcing your gaze on Rhysand.
Out of everyone, why did Azriel have to be the observant one who would surely notice how frumpy the dress looked on your body, especially compared to the High Lady at the head of the table? Surely it would’ve been better to have a massive crush on Cassian, who hardly looked at what anyone was wearing unless it was something revealing. 
Azriel, though. Azriel noticed everything. 
The thought was like a pit of dread in your stomach. Surely he knew how you felt about him. 
It was embarrassing, really. The two of you had become pretty good friends over the last few years, after Rhysand had recruited you into his inner circle. 
But, the more you got to know him, the stronger your feelings became, the more you withdrew. You didn’t want to bother him or annoy with your feelings, with your insecurities, your past. He had enough to deal with on his own, and he didn’t need you pestering him. 
Without you even realizing it, the meeting had drawn to a close, and everyone was standing up, milling around before going about their day. 
Suddenly Azriel appeared at your side, so close that one of his shadows tickled your arm. “How are you?” he asked, his eyes boring into yours like he could see straight into your soul. 
“Good,” you couldn’t help but smile in his presence. 
His eyes narrowed slightly, and the side of his mouth twitched up into half a smile. “Liar,” he murmured. 
“Those damn shadows,” you scoffed. 
“I didn’t need the shadows to help me out with that one,” he said, tilting his head slightly as he studied your face. 
You felt your cheeks warm at his closeness, the intensity of his gaze. You needed to change the subject. Quickly. “How are you?” 
His smile grew slightly. “Good.”
“Liar,” you grinned, arching your eyebrow. 
He snorted before leveling his gaze on you again. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
You hesitated. “It’s… a lot. And it’s also a little dumb. All at the same time.”
“Sounds like you need someone to talk to,” he said quietly. As he said it, you could have sworn that you saw his fingers flex slightly, like they wanted to reach for you. 
“You don’t have to worry about my problems,” you said halfheartedly.
“I’ll be worrying about them whether or not you tell me,” he murmured. 
The way he was looking at you, the concern dancing in his eyes… it made your knees weak. It also seemed to have made your brain short circuit because that’s really the only thing that would actually explain the response that came out of your mouth. “Okay. Let’s talk.”
You followed Azriel upstairs, to a sitting room near the bedroom that he frequented in the House of Wind. 
You weren’t sure how you could possibly form the words in a way that would make sense to him, in a way that wouldn’t make you seem crazy or foolish. 
But, he had offered, and he really seemed to care. So you would try. For him, if not for yourself. 
---
You looked nervous as you settled into the armchair across from him, your hands wringing in your lap, your gaze landing anywhere but on Azriel. 
He couldn’t imagine what plagued you so, but he was willing to do whatever it took to make you feel okay again. 
“So,” you began, then clamped your mouth shut. Your eyes finally darted up, meeting his. “I don’t know how to explain any of it.”
Azriel couldn’t stop the quiet laugh that rushed out of him. “Do you want me to go first?”
That seemed to get your attention. You leaned forward, bracing your elbows on your knees. “Yes. Why do you look like you haven’t been sleeping?”
His brow furrowed in surprise. “You noticed that?”
You nodded, somewhat bashfully, your cheeks slightly pink. “I just -- I’ve been worried about you.”
Azriel’s heart did a somersault in his chest. His mouth tugged up into a smile. “I’ve been worried about you. That’s why I haven’t been sleeping.”
You blinked. “What do you mean?”
His expression softened as he gazed at you. “I care about you. When there’s something upsetting you, I tend to lose sleep,” he said gently. 
“You…” you began, but trailed off. Azriel could practically see the wheels turning in your brain. “You really care about me that much?”
Azriel blew out a breath. “Cauldron, you’re really going to make me spell it out, aren’t you?” 
Your brow furrowed in confusion, but you remained silent. 
“I love you,” he murmured, surprising even himself that he finally said it. “I’ve loved you for a long time.”
Azriel held his breath as he waited for your response. Finally, you said, “Why?”
That was not the response he had been hoping for. “What do you mean, why?”
You made an exasperated noise, seemingly unable to look at him. “I just don’t understand. I’m awkward and annoying and I look awful in all of my clothes, and no matter what I do, I can’t fix the parts of my body that I don’t like--”
Azriel ended up right in front of you without even realizing that he had moved. He took both of your hands in his. “Hey, stop for a minute,” he said gently, though the way you were talking about yourself had his blood practically boiling. “Look at me.”
Reluctantly, you lifted your gaze to meet his. “You’re wrong,” he said simply, once your breathing had calmed. 
“What?” you choked out.
“You’re wrong,” he murmured, rubbing the backs of your knuckles with his scarred thumbs. “I can’t think of anybody less annoying than you. I always want to be around you. Always,” he smiled, leaning closer to you conspiratorially. “And you know what else?”
You stayed silent, your lips slightly parted. Heat rushed through his body as he leaned closer still, bringing his mouth to your ear. “You’re beautiful. Breathtaking, actually.”
That was when you took a step back, pulling your hands from his. Azriel’s heart sank. “You don’t have to do that,” you said sadly.
“You don’t believe me?” Azriel asked. He couldn’t understand it. Why couldn’t you see yourself the way that he saw you?
“I just… You don’t have to say all that to make me feel better,” you said. “I know you’re trying to be nice, but --”
“I’m not trying to be nice,” Azriel spat. 
Your eyes widened at the sudden outburst and he sighed, taking a step closer to you again. It was an effort to calm his voice, to not be frustrated with you for thinking that he could possibly make something like this up. “I’m not trying to be nice,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper now. “I’m telling you what I’ve been wanting to admit to you for years.”
When you remained silent, he knew he would have to prove it to you. 
He gently took your hand in his again. “Come with me?”
You hesitated for a moment, but then followed him without a word. He led you to his bedroom, where he stood behind you as you faced a large floor length mirror on the wall. 
“Oh gods, I do not want to do this,” you groaned.
“Just humor me, okay?” he said gently. 
You sighed, but squared your shoulders and looked pointedly into the mirror. Azriel couldn’t help the swell of pride that he felt at that. 
“I’m not sure what you see,” he murmured, dying to touch you, but keeping his hands to himself for the moment. “But I see a woman with the most stunning eyes,” you smiled slightly at that, your eyes crinkling around the corners. Azriel smiled, lightly curling a lock of your hair around his finger. “And the most beautiful hair. I’ve thought about running my hands through this hair about a million times.”
Azriel heard your breath hitch, and it took everything he had in him to not throw you onto the bed right then and there. Slowly, your eyes met his in the mirror. “And your smile?” His own smile grew at the thought. “Gods. I don’t even have words for your smile.”
He went on and on, his fingers lightly trailing down your sides as he revealed the truth to you, the truth of how long he had been watching you, how badly he had wanted you. 
“Don’t you see?” he finally asked quietly. “Don’t you see what I see?”
Slowly, you turned around to face him. “Thank you, Azriel. I believe you. I believe that it’s what you see. But…”
He arched an eyebrow. “But?”
“I’m too much work,” you said quietly. “I’m too much work to love. I’ve got too much baggage.”
Azriel’s brow furrowed in confusion. “You think I don’t understand being insecure?” he says, holding his scarred hands up in front of him. “You think I don’t understand carrying the burden of the past?”
“But--”
“Do you think I’m too much work?” he asked. 
“No, of course not.”
He looked at you pointedly. “Listen to me. I love you. I know you don’t believe me, but it’s true. And if you’ll let me, I’ll remind you every day how beautiful, smart, kind, and incredible you are.” He settled his hands on your waist, pulling you slightly closer to him, leaning his forehead against yours. “You’re not too much. I’ll work every day for eternity for you. I can handle whatever you throw at me.”
A tear rolled down  your cheek as you looked up at him, and he gently wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. “I love you,” you choked out. 
Azriel couldn’t hold it back anymore. He kissed you softly, and you melted into him the moment his lips met yours. 
He held you close, cradling you to his chest, determined to be whatever you needed for as long as you would let him. 
@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @hanuh @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @ecliphttlunar @bookloverandalsocats @melmo567 @halibshepherd @azrielshadows1nger @cigvrette-dvydrevms @lilah-asteria @evergreenlark @headacheseason @sillysillygoose444 @yourqueenlilith @mariamay02 @andreperez11 @marina468
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rippersz · 8 months ago
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𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆'𝒔 𝑨 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎
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✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:
Larissa Weems x Reader x Alcina Dimitrescu (NSFW; Double Penetration; Lewd Language; BDSM; Mommy Kink; Breeding; G!P)
✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:
It’s too much. 
It’s way too much.
Too much touching, too much pleasure, too much passion. 
It’s all warm bodies, panting breaths, deep growls, small whimpers, and so much heat that you feel faint with it. They have you stuck in between, held up and hovering over thick thighs while two sets of strong hips alternate powerful thrusts. In and out. In and out. In… out… Easy and light for the two of them as sharp nails leave deep indents in the flesh of your ass, clenching and unclenching. She shoulders most of the weight, the taller of your two lovers, while she takes her fill. Insatiable and dark. Hard, fast, and rough. There’s grunts that pour past your ear and fan against the sensitive skin of your neck, creating the most precious addictive harmony as she scrapes razor-sharp fangs along the soft flesh of your trapezius. Skirting around the very edge of pain. She knows you fear it. She knows you’re waiting. Fortunately, she’s already made up her mind. The feeding will be for another night- or perhaps later, when you’re passed out on the bed between them, plugged to keep the warmth of their cum from spilling out of your pretty body. She’s unbelievably excited about that if the flex of her hips and strong steady hold is anything to go by. It’s a sweet gesture in the long run, keeping you in place so that the woman in front of you, grasping onto your lower thighs, can have an easier time using you for pleasure. 
And she is. Absolutely. 
Larissa’s porcelain skin is flushed pink with desire, spreading all the way down to the milky expanse of her bare chest. She’s huffing, her beautiful red lips parted with a sense of disbelief while her eyes, blown dark with an appreciative pupil, lock themselves onto the sensitive place where your bodies meet. She studies your venus mound, the soft curls wetted by your desire, and licks her lips without thought while you watch the hypnotizing roll of her torso. In and out… in and out… smooth and easy and deep enough to make both of you exhale soft moans and whimpers on each thrust. She doesn’t have the stamina Alcina does, but that’s why your draconic lover takes most of the force… and most of the resistance. Their difference in size, in moments like this, is terribly noticeable. You feel it in their hands, in the closeness of their chests and their heights, even while kneeling on the bed, and in the thick of their cocks as they grind into you from both ends. 
Filling all that they can, for all that they’re worth, and enjoying the sounds of your broken cries. 
“P-please- can’t!- Sens-sensitive!” You scream, vision blurring with hot tears as they continue their evil dance. 
Alcina is absolutely fucking punishing. You’re not sure how you’re going to walk comfortably come morning with the way she smacks against your backside. She’s obviously not shy and only finds a sick sort of enjoyment in your answering sobs whenever she whispers how tight you are for her. How desperate. Clenching around both of their lengths like a needy depraved little slut. 
And Larissa, who listens with sharp ears and responds with appreciative moans, can only watch and partake in her own lewd show as she sees the way Alcina hovers over you. Making eye contact with those golden fires, feeling adored beneath the heavy heat that comes with the constant stare your taller lover gives her. Eyes raking over the softness of her breasts, the hickies on the swell of her ribs, the golden curls at the base of her cock… Slightly smaller than Alcina’s, and tinged pink with delight as it moves in and out of you with fervor. Stretching with ease as you take her right to the hilt over and over and over. It feels like a piece of Heaven all on its own, plucked right from the stars, as Larissa looks up from beneath her lashes and bats her eyes at Alcina. Her cock throbs, wild with pleasure, as it fills you swiftly- and she takes that moment to pause. The lull barely has time to confuse you before Larissa is leaning closer, pressing your chests together in warm, hazy damp delight, so she can bring her lips right up to your-... shoulder. Over your shoulder. To meet the pull of Alcina’s body as her bountiful chest, soft and gentle, pins itself to the contours of your back. You can almost feel the heavy thump of her heart. 
“Kiss me, darling,” Alcina breathes quickly, her voice a deep pleasant rumble brushed against Larissa’s lips. They keep themselves inside of you, prolonging the ache in your body as they kiss. Slow and sensual, red lips opening and parting, pink tongues licking into each other with languid strokes. Eyes closed, suspended in bliss, throats bobbing with the most erotic moans. You can only watch, entranced and bewitched, as a strong shiver races down your spine. You quake in their shared hold and shift your gaze to see- Oh. Gold. Striking gold, glowing beneath a heavy lid, watching you with cloying amusement. It’s embarrassing to be seen in such a needy state, blushing and clenching and eager for whatever they can give you… you want to hide away, but you have nowhere to go. They’re so warm, so strong, and kissing so lovingly. 
Alcina’s eye closes as she loses herself in your other lover’s sweet mouth, and the desperation in your body only shoots to unbearable heights as the attention is stolen away.
“Please,” you whimper. Give it to me. Anything. Fuck me until I pass out and you can’t control yourselves anymore. Please. Anything. I love you. 
Larissa is the first to pull away. She’s slow, letting Alcina steal one last moan from her lungs, before she’s settling back onto her heels and licking the spit from her lips. Slow and appreciative. You figure they both taste like wine and sex and your body begins to squirm without much thought–completely taken by the envious nature that swells in your heart. 
Kiss me too. Please. Please, kiss me too. 
“Poor thing…,” your lover whispers, her breath like a cool balm against your heated skin. You nod immediately, trying to garner some appreciation, some sympathy, and lean your head back to rest on Alcina’s collarbone. She feels so strong behind you, still holding your legs without even a tremor in her forearms - and keeping you open for Larissa, who ducks to nuzzle against your neck. “Have we been neglecting you?” She asks in a murmur, the words flowing like individual pieces of silk from her cherry lips. 
You nod, quickly, and bring your hands up from your thighs to rest over her shoulders. A small tug has her settling closer, pressing so far into you that no space slips between your bodies. Chests kissing and hips locked, the sweat on her skin glistens beneath firelight. 
The hearth is proudly lit and burning away, flickering with shadows that dance across your sinful tango. Everything smells of perfume and sex and you’re eager to feel them moving again. Alcina is starting to hurt, aching so much within her nestled spot that you try to adjust - but her hands only dig into your thighs with renewed vigor. She doesn’t want you to escape. She doesn’t want you to leave. You feel the burn and you stay there for them, because tonight that’s your job. 
Larissa’s little pet. Alcina’s little fucktoy. That’s usually how it goes. 
And the sweet peck that the former gives you a moment later, lingering in the space between your eyebrows, sparks a little whimper to run from your throat. It’s a raw sound, betraying your need, and you watch as Larissa’s eyes soften. She is always so weak for you—never able to keep up the mean façade for very long. She can tease like a motherfucker, but the near punishing pace Alcina often sets is not something she can always adapt to. So she loves as she does now, kissing every bit of your face that she can reach, letting out soft moans that make your mouth water. And when you try moving to capture her lips, lazily twisting your head, she backs away. A terrible game of cat and mouse. A form of torture that has you in near tears because goddammit you just need them to DO something alread-
“Hngh!” A strained, choked sound, taken from the very depths of your eager soul, splits the heavy air.
It’s tinged with pain, overwhelmed with pleasure, as Alcina’s cock, in all of its big glory, drags out of your hole and slams back in.
“Fuck,” you hear her low murmur before the rest of her appreciation is drowned out by Larissa’s gasp. 
She’s clearly very sensitive, instantly shutting her eyes in undeniable bliss as the motions of your dance start up again. Alcina grinds easily, producing the dirtiest sounds as the meat of her thighs slaps against your ass. And no moan is stifled. No growl is hidden. She wants you to hear her. She knows how much it makes you throb, and when that happens, she knows it pleasures them both. And that’s part of it, of course. A common point of teasing. She pulls out certain reactions from you so you can please Larissa. Your sweet angel. Bucking her hips like she is now, a mad woman made by your own hands. White hair in disarray, chest painted in lipstick and light bruises, legs shaking with need. 
They stretch you so well… The perfect fits for your body. Even if it hurts. Even if, occasionally, you wince. It doesn’t matter. You’re just so warm… So easy… Constantly ready to drop to your knees if they ask. Always in the mood to give yourself up. It’s just as Alcina says:
“Such an eager little whore for your Mommies, aren’t you darling?” 
Yes. Yes, you are. 
“Mhm… Our pretty little cocksleeve…”
God, yes.
“Isn’t that right, Larissa? Such a good princess we have, hm?” 
The response is a deep purr. “Without a doubt, my love. So… oh gods, fuck… so obedient…”
Very. The most obedient. No choice but to be. Doesn’t matter. You’re a good princess. Best cocksleeve. All for them. Pretty Mommies…
Out there, you are more than this. You are something perhaps a bit more human. A bit more independently functional. You are expected to do things. Told to be mightier. Conditioned to work and provide and never rest.
But here… 
Oh here you are nothing but a means to an end. A hole to fill as your lovers, all red lips and aureate eyes crashing into sapphires, black and white hair in complete contrast, fuck you at their own paces. Staring at each other over your shoulder, hearts in their pupils, while they use you like the two-holed toy in between. Your pleas go unanswered. Your tears go unlicked.
They use your body like they’ve spent their whole lives waiting to. And your body accepts them. Eager for their care, their love, the heat that they want to fill you with.
“Cum with me, Larissa.” In your foggy haze, you hear Alcina pant. “Please,” she begs, a sweet sound you rarely get to hear, “Help me- hngfuckfuck- f-fill our little girl.” 
The term of endearment has you exploding in goosebumps, growing stiff with the amount of times your cunt squeezes around Larissa’s length in the span of only a few moments. It’s addicting, this position. This intimacy. The mind-numbing passion that follows in the wake of their rapid, eager thrusts. An easy tell for the bliss you’re about to feel. 
“Yes- yesyesyesyesyes!- Al-cina-!” Your fair-haired lover squeaks as she doubles over, presses her forehead into your neck, and pumps her hips erratically. The shiver flows through her veins and comes to a head, quick and hard, as she crumbles inside of you. 
Alcina, delighted by the show of those blue eyes rolling back in pleasure, follows without preamble. Her thrusts are mad, lost in their forgotten timing, and descend into short bursts of strength as she works herself all the way inside and finally gives into the electricity that floats into her body. 
The feeling of their breasts pressed to your front and back, heaving with the love you’ve given them, the Heaven that’s been taken, is enough to send you into a small orgasm of your own. It’s a weak pulse of your body, too tired and hazy to register anything but the thick warm cum that floods you. Spilling and spilling until you’re nearly certain that it’s all going to dribble out onto the length of their cocks as soon as they pull out, and then dirty the bedspread.
But really who gives a fuck about the bedspread? 
They’ll just buy another set, rich and expensive and softer than feathers. 
And then ruin that one too.
✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:
Drops dead - Rip x
✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:
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