#force complexity onto him.

[skullmoss]

Do you think the veil should've came down like honestly what would that have really done? The elves become immortal again right? Well ok but that doesn't really fix the oppression issue anf like now there's demons right? solas should've rallied the people currently present instead of trying to bring back a long dead world

solas never cared about anything or anyone except mythal and what He Can Do for the elves that look up to him. he has a savior complex but only for one singular race. he doesn’t care about anyone who dies in the process, and used people to achieve a means to His end.

qunari are savages and dwarves, the original denizens of the part of thedas he helped the other ancient elves overthrow and mine titan blood for don’t count as actual people.

nobody was ever going to convince solas the world as it currently stands deserves saving. a big doe-eyed lavellan he sucked face with once and snatched her heritage from was never going to change his mind. she was just one more person he could feel sad about as he continued on his way.

some ppl are upset about how the “solavellan ending” removes her agency but idk man she was never going to actually “save” him. lavellan’s just a tradwife at that point, collecting eggs in her egg apron as solas shuffles through purgatory lmao.

sera was so right calling them out on their elf purity bullshit. i wish she was in veilguard but i know her presence would have pissed people off…

[s0fter-sin]

still thinking about gaz doing ghost’s skincare

even when they’re on base and the worst of the all-encompassing exhaustion is held at bay, he knows ghost doesn’t have the energy to spare to do any kind of in depth routine; knows as much as it makes him feel good to feel soft and clean and cared for, he won’t be able to keep up with it by himself

gaz just didn't expect how good it would feel to do it for him

how accomplished he'd feel when he figured out the right combination of products to soothe ghost's sensitive neglected skin without him breaking out or getting even more dehydrated, the best moisturiser for his scars, researching no-wash products so he doesn't have to get up once they've started; all ghost has to do is lay back and let gaz work

it's an honour, not only to be trusted enough with ghost's - with simon's - face but also to watch him lose every ounce of tension in his body

they usually - and how amazing that they have a usual, that this has become a routine - end up with ghost's head in his lap, a soft pillow beneath his head so he can just rest. it's not uncommon for him to fall asleep entirely as gaz follows his steps

bottles of cleansers and serums and moisturisers all bought just for him, each one dutifully researched with ghost's skin type in mind, all stored in a black leather bag moulded into a skull bc gaz found it browsing one day and thought it was too perfect. ghost doesn't even know what they all do, just knows how blissful it is to feel the gentle pressure of gaz's fingers massaging his face; following the contours of scars that haven't pulled or flared since they started doing this

gaz never tells him about the rollers he could use instead, the applicators that are technically better for his skin bc it would mean he'd know that gaz uses his hands just for him; that he can feel how much he craves his touch and knows he enjoys it just as much, if not more than the actual results

gaz just tells him that a thorough massage after everything is applied is necessary for all the products to marry up and sink properly into his skin and spends the next half hour smiling down at his superior as he lets go of all his pain and trusts him to keep him afloat

[sieglinde-freud]

one thing i never realized bc i always either pair chrom with olivia or make him gay is that not every sibling calls lucina “luce” and its making me crazy. inigo and brady call her “luce” for short. cynthia calls her “lucy” (MY FAV), and kjelle and morgan just call her “lucina.” why did they make this change across supports. “to add personality” you say and to that i say YES obviously but also. potential of telling us more about how close lucina was with each potential sibling? maybe. what im getting at here is chrom!kjelle and lucina maybe suffering the most in terms of feelings of inadequacy and having that slight strain that keeps them from being close. this does not apply to morgan bc i chalk his up to memory loss BUT. you could also say that lucina never let him get close because she’s wary of him. hows that. and if you read closely what im actually saying is that i need an au where all six of them are siblings and not all of them have the brand of the exalt

[yngai]

they should've never made ada a hacker (specifically with her intercepting luis' emails to his college friend & that one scene in damnation where she forces the elevator to svetlana's laboratory to open to help leon & sasha + herself escape the self destruction sequence she intentionally activated) because i've taken it now to mean (i watch way too many computer software review & repair videos) she will be annoying about her preferred linux distributions to anyone who will listen, fellow spies, hackers & whichever partner wakes up to ada typing away on her laptop in their living room looking like she hasn't slept the whole night

[asexualchad]

reverting to brainwashed WV Democrat religiosity talking shit on Devo in TTAZZ I see! hope the long covid is treating y'all badly these days like jesus Tr***s finally makes a good character and THIS is the one you bemoan????

[swoo0zy]

wander is DEF fucked emotionally i jyst didnt feel like fitting 2 paragraphs into 1 image also. comeduc effect ig BUT YEAH I SIGN UNDER EVERY WORD

this is starryeyed to me

[muntitled]

Blink Twice

Pairings: The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Summary: After pushing your body to the brink, it's finally giving out. You're rewarded for all your dazzling work ethic with a “nice” dinner. As ‘nice’ as ‘nice’ gets with him…

Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Language, Coercion, Murder, Abuse, Male Manipulation, Implied Violence, Age gap, God Complex, Brainwashing, Psychopathy, Blood, Gore, Codependency, Yandere!Salesman, Stalking, Smut (+18) mdni, Handcuffs, Exhibitionism, Blood Kink, Sadomasocism, Dom!Salesman, Sub!Reader, Choking, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Blood Play, fingering, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Sadism, Punishments, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Squirting, Fingering, Somnophilia, Period Sex, Bodily Fluids.

A/n: I'm not responsible for the media you consume

"H-How do you keep breaking into my apartment?" If it weren't for the fact that you were currently being fingered awake, you might have found it in yourself to sound more angry.

But you weren't awake, and he had taken advantage of your unconscious state just enough to bend down over your sleeping frame, and slip his hands between your legs.

You had promised yourself a quick power nap on the couch, anything that might lessen the pain that had been steadily blooming in your left arm. That nap had stolen you throughout most of the day until, here he hovers over you- the man who is undoubtedly the culprit for all this bodily pain you're in- with his fingers inside you.

“There you are, sleepy head,” His face is so close, you can see the smile wrinkling his face. His smile is bright and kind but his fingers aren't. They're stretching your cunt out, wrenching a moan from deep within you as you stare down at your hips moving off the couch.

“Fuck…” Your voice cracks as he scissors his index and middle finger inside you, still on a mission to split you apart. You drown in the scent of his cologne and his perfectly new suit- a black one today.

You throw your head back, feeling the pressure mount as you grind down against his fingers all while he watches with immense satisfaction.

“Can't- just-” you gasp when your wetness seeps out of you and onto the couch. “Can't-Do-This-” For all those moments you forget that you're nursing a sore arm. As you grind down against his ruthless fingers.

You forget that he might have seriously injured you this time.

“I couldn't help myself,” he whispers hoarsely, forcing an orgasm out of you before placing a kiss on your forehead. “You look breathtaking when you're unconscious.”

As the orgasm passes, you try to wake yourself up and become more aware of your surroundings.

Your body is shaking once he's done with you. Your cunt aches and reality sets back in. “Get out of my house.”

He straightens his tie before standing to his full height again, “You say that like I don't own the place,"

He's smiling stiffly as he stands before you, clutching that bloody briefcase, having come to collect you for another round of games...

Something inside your worn-out soul breaks at the sight of him so unfathomably fazed. You were experiencing another round of those 'realization moments'.

You have actually gone and sold yourself to a sadist.

Especially now that he's gone and done it again. After vehemently expressing that he 'please be a little more gentle with you', he insisted on pushing your body to the brink of its abilities. Toying with you and punishing you and releasing all the workings of those sick, sick, sick games on you, and for what?

It hits you more often than not these days.

A paid apartment? Paid university fees?

You try to keep your sleepy eyes unkind as you glare up at him but even you blanch at how much of a necessary force he's made himself in your life.

"And how often are you going to remind me that all my resources are tied to you?" You rise from lying supine, waiting for the world to stop spinning before you start stretching. None of your limbs protest as much as yours left shoulder that practically howls in pain. He watches you with robotic intrigue.

"I thought I should make good on that promise to take you out.”

"Take me out?" He notes the way your good shoulders tenses and smiles.

"I already said I've got no plans to kill you. You're the most fun I've had in years and years." He says "I want you to go to dinner with me."

"You wanna take your abuse victim out to dinner... looking like this?" you try to lift your arm but it protests, sending a sharp pain through your entire left side.

"I think you look rather beautiful."

"You would think this is what beauty looks like."

A tense silence falls.

"You're angry." He tilts his head, "And in pain."

You scoff venomously then, "Whomever might the culprit be?" You ask sarcastically before picking yourself up from the couch. You're cradling your arm, dragging your worn body across the floor to the adjoining kitchen.

"My fucking arm still hurts." You nearly cry as you squeeze the words out. Shooting a teary-eyed glare at your sadist from the kitchen.

"Tonight is your celebration dinner and it's way overdue." He busies himself by folding up the quilt that had been draped along your sleeping frame, "All my virtues rest on giving credit where credit is due, and you my dear..." the gaze he arrests you in is warm, and penetrative, like you were being reminded that he owns your body and soul, "-have done stellar work for me."

It's said in a wave of reverence you didn't really expect.

"Let me take you out,"

Sure he was sociopathic, and deranged, and everything you should most definitely be seeking refuge from, but the sentiment in his voice is genuine. As if, after 40 years on this earth, with the violent tendencies he had undoubtedly been born with, here is someone that's actually helping him. That's what you're doing, you're helping him. But it comes at a steep, steep price.

"You have virtues?" You ask sarcastically, causing the once intense moment to scatter and lighten.

"And your humor would be missed if I killed you. Where else would I find someone with such a stellar sense of humor and almost no sense of self preservation?" He asks aloud, as he walks towards the counter that separates you both. "You should've asked for help the first day you met me-"

"You offered to pay my shit if I played your games, who would walk away from that?”

"You should've." He smiles. "But I'm glad you didn't." His smile reaches those dead, almond eyes, "And tonight we have a celebration dinner."

"I can't go out," you say, turning your back on him to drink water.

His voice is dark when he says, "Can't or won't?"

"Can't." You slam your cup down against the sink, earning a thick wave of silence. You were never angry with him before. Never. "I think you broke something." You say, turning slowly, still cradling your arm like a baby.

There's a jarring amount of care in his voice as he rounds the counter to walk closer towards you. He examines your arm with deceptively soft eyes as he softly says, "I really did a number on you, didn't I?"

You look up at him with blank eyes, "Try not to get off thinking about it," you snip back. Sarcasm was your only weapon.

"I couldn't help myself," He rests his large hand on your arm, "you know that right?

"Y-Yes," your resolve falters and you're back to being his submissive. "I don't blame you."

"In fact." He nods along with you, conditioning you to accept his view of the events as he says, "Our session this past week had been nothing short of magical."

You're not quite sure if that was a reliable portrayal of the events but your weak mind is already fitting the memories to be so.

Somehow, you're thinking of the events with less anger: how he had snapped real, silver handcuffs on your wrists, resting them behind your back while you were being fucked from behind. It had been blissful until he pulled too hard on the left and you screamed and you blacked out.

Now here he stands before you, drenched in the afternoon sunlight, wearing a brand new black suit, smelling of fine cologne, telling you it was magical.

He came when you broke your arm.

"Alright, I'll come with you," he decides with finality, prompting you to snap out of your daze.

"No, I can go myself!" You move around him to gather your things.

"Unless you've magically obtained the ability to communicate in Korean then I suggest I come with you." He watches you race across your tiny apartment, gathering your things.

"There are English speaking doctors I'll be f-uck." As you were searching for your phone between the couch, you angered the arm, causing another wave of pain to blossom.

"I'm taking you." He stands by the doorway, "Let's go."

Your nostrils flare as the real reason for your discomfort rears its head. "B-but what if..."

You let the words die on your lips. Choosing instead to look at him, hoping your eyes relay the severity of the implications that might arise from a simple trip to the hospital. All those questions.

"Don't tell me you're worried about me." He says, still smiling.

"Worry?" You snort as you make your way to the front door where your sneakers sit, "If you go to jail who's gonna make me cum?"

He clutches at the space where a heart ought to be and says, "And here I was thinking you were falling in love with an old man like me."

"You can't love anything," you shoot back coldly.

"I can't," he confirms, "but you can."

You move away from the conversation like It's growing teeth.

"Let's just go," you mumble quietly, heading out the door, not looking back and knowing he'd follow.

𓂃

The hospital is bombarded by the smell of antiseptic and busy bodies in white coats whizzing all around you. It's dizzying actually being here as the severity if it all comes hammering down on you. You didn't like being around so many people at the best of times- even attending university everyday was met with its fair share of anxiety. Almost on instinct, you curl a little closer into his side, letting your right hand slither over his wrist. Surprisingly, he lets you.

"What should I say?" It only strikes you now that you probably should have rehearsed some script since 'I'd like to seek medical attention because I'm meeting with a homicidal sadist weekly who pays my bills and my body is finally giving out,' probably wouldn't be a good way to go.

The confidence in his stride leaves you brimming with nervousness. Your less than orthodox dynamic has already made a few passers by stare but here, inside the hospital, you feel like the only two humans to exist.

"I'll do the talking," he reassures and something inside you sighs. This is what made him such a necessary force for you. He handled way more than you ever could. He moved through the world, headstrong and in charge. He was everything you weren't.

"Good day-" he says to the nurse manning the front desk, "I'd like to get my wife treated for a possible fracture or broken bone-"

Wife.

It rings through your ears.

Meanwhile, kind eyes- genuine, human eyes- look at you from across the desk. You realize then how little contact you've had with anyone normal. Anyone real.

"Poor thing," the nurse murmurs and your heart tugs at the kindness drenched in her voice.

"Alright, Sir, it's just-" the nurse gestures towards the rest of the waiting room, "We're just busier than we usually are for a weekday so you might have to wait a while-"

"You have medical aid?" You enquire softly, letting your side bump against him. "Who the hell are you?"

He stares down the small woman as he reveals a glistening card from his wallet. She quickly looks at you before she tentatively takes the card and types away at her computer.

Somehow, up until this point you had fooled yourself into believing you were on the road to autonomy, that going to university and being a woman in her 20s away from home meant you were finally obtaining sweet sweet independence but in actuality... you were just a little girl, deluding herself into thinking the city might be kind to her. It's swallowing you whole. And you're being left to watch.

It made you aware of how completely vulnerable you had really been. You could barely afford rent, let alone something as luxurious as medical aid. For all your time in this city you tried not to get hurt because medical bills would eat you alive and here he was, whipping a card out.

"Right this way-" The little nurse moves from behind the counter, and almost immediately, you hear a distinct uproar in the waiting room behind you. "I think doctor Park will see you, but we'll first head over for X-Ray and-"

"Hey!" The sound startles you, causing your shoulders to tense as you grip on your Salesman's forearm, making sure he's still there, "We've been here for 4 hours," You meet the haggard glassy eyes of a middle aged man. He's scowling at you as if you've committed a grave murder right before him.

"I'm sorry, Sir." The nurse begins, her voice filled with concern, "This hospital is legally obligated to help out those with medical aid first-"

Shoes click against the cold floors. A shadow descends as your Salesman steps forward as if protecting you from the man's vehemence. Time stands still in the moments he makes his venomous proposition. A proposition so vile it nearly had you vomiting here all over the hospital floors.

"My wife needs a new heart-" he begins, gesturing to a woman- a ghost seated in the chairs behind him. Her skin is practically translucent as she stares off into space. "Who knows how much time we're wasting while we're being forced to wait here-"

"Are you up for a game of rock, paper, scissors by any chance?" Your salesman asks, causing your heart to sink. The man examines him as if he's grown a second head.

"If you win a single round against me, I will pay for your wife's medical treatment. New heart." At the peroration of his incredibly insensitive and evil proposition, your Salesman smiles.

"One round." He says, before his eyes snap to the woman pulling at her husband's arm.

"She doesn't look too well," The Salesman pouts and you walk up towards him, limbs shaking as you whisper-yell in his ear, feeling all your nerves being shot out of you.

"Jesus, you're fucking disgusting."

"Birds of a feather-" he whispers back, before refocusing his attention onto the man.

Meanwhile the nurse tries to pull you away but you're rooted to the floors. This whole ordeal makes you realize that you've never actually seen him interact with normal people. It makes you wonder where he goes when he's not with you. You'd almost believed that he's a fragment of your delusions, something your lonely brain cooked up to make you believe someone in this city cared about you. But he's real. And he has a life outside the two of you.

"Don't you wanna help your wife?" He continues to tempt the man, "Look at mine-" the Salesman said, gesturing to you. "She's a little battered and bruised but she's alive. You're not dying any time soon, right honey?"

You rip your eyes away from him just as your nurse returns. She places a warm arm on your forearm and in the midst of the game, she places a card in your hand. "Let's go for your x-rays,"

While they play their game, you look down at the piece of paper.

Blink twice if the man you're with is the one who assaulted you.

Call it female intuition.

You have no idea what could've led to the fact that he was the one but the nurse is watching you with a heavy gaze and bated breath. You almost drown in the concern she holds for you, a mere stranger.

In another life, you might've had a friend like her. She's relatively young, budding with youthfulness, actually. You imagine she has a boyfriend. An actual one. One who holds her bag while she's shopping. One who kisses her. These kinds of people develop empathy. The ‘fixed people’. You can tell she knows love.

“I-”

“Rock, paper, scissors-”

You blink once before looking away and the nurse sighs in relief.

"Better luck next time." You watch with bated breath as the man draws a rock to the Salesman's paper.

𓂃

An oblique fracture, they called it. The thing that's been plaguing your left arm for a week has finally been given its name. You're walking out of the doctor's office feeling light and remarkably relieved to leave this place and all its people. He walks confidently beside you, having sat through the whole ordeal. He had been there as they fashioned the pink cast over your arm and he walks beside you now, like your own personal well-dressed shadow.

On your way out, you pass by the receptionist's desk, she smiles over at you but glares at the Salesman. Just as you're about to make it out, you hear her voice.

“You said she's your wife,” the woman speaks up, causing you both to stop. “I don't see a ring.”

Cold, white, fear runs down your spine and your hand that was in his, squeezes as silence envelops you both.

“Good Day,” is all he says with an amicable smile before pulling you along.

Silence enveloped you on your taxi ride over to the Japanese restaurant comfortably situated in the Gangnam district. He had been remarkably quiet in the taxi driver over and he is remarkably quiet now as you're being led to a booth in the restaurant. It's adequately filled with its patrons. Families and couples like perhaps you two were. You wonder if he has these thoughts…

“She did make a good point,” you mumble as you take a seat in the booth, watching silently as he slips in beside you. “If you're going to be telling people I'm your wife and they don't see a ring…”

He sets his briefcase in the booth beside you both, sighing softly as he mumbles, “People don't usually marry their toys, do they?”

Before you're able to respond, a waiter walks up to your booth, having his pen and notepad at attention as he asks for your order. You watch your Salesman expertly lay down your order, everything from yakitori, to miso soup to onigiri. It's mesmerizing watching him order for you and you suspect it had the same effect on you. His hands on your thigh squeezes slightly, while you silently let him order. In a moment the waiter vanishes.

“You're so old,” you say suddenly, trying to make up for the silence and the nervousness raging through your heart. This is the first time you're out with him in a public setting and its setting you alight with worry. “I'm sure you remember when Korea was under Japanese occupation,”

“Keep making your little jokes,” he says, sipping on his complimentary water as he allows his back to rest against the seat, “And I might not be so forgiving…”

His hand rests his hand on your thigh, it's the only thing you're able to focus on. How his fingers cover so much space. The sheer size of it. The sheer size of him. You feel so completely small beside him, you almost don't realize that he's begun talking again.

“My father fought in the war when he was ‘round about your age,” that brings you clean out of your thoughts. Your eyes snap up to meet his but he's staring aimlessly ahead, as if reminiscing on something beautiful.

“Jesus I-” you swallow thickly, “That was a bloody war,”

He nods, momentarily removing his hand from your thigh to undo the buttons of his blazer.

“More than 3 million dead.” He says taking another sip.

“Right.” You nod, heart hammering when he places his hand back on your thigh. “2 million soldiers and 1 million civilians,” he places the glass back down on the table and he shakes his head slightly, twirling his index.

“Swap the numbers around.”

“Right…” you clear your throat, keeping your gaze locked on your lap, “That's... heartbreaking. I'm sorry.”

He turns his head, finally regarding you under the dimness of the hanging light fixtures. He tilts his head to the side in that way he does when he's particularly intrigued by you. “You are sorry, aren't you?”

You nod.

“But I have no idea why, you're not a Japanese fascist from the 40s.”

“No, but I have empathy.”

“Curious.” He replies back, before letting silence fall.

“Spread your legs,” he says so suddenly it gave you whiplash. Your head snaps up to him as you begin to plead.

He couldn't do this. There had to be some sort of refractory period in which he let your body recuperate.

“I’m in pain-” you grit out through your teeth, but his large hand is already seeping to the center of your closed legs, trying to pry them apart.

“Your legs work just fine.” He whispers, letting his mouth graze your ears, “Your cunt works just fine,”

You place a hand on his forearm. “The doctor said no strenuous activities.”

“Do you listen to the doctor or do you listen to me?” He asks, staring at you deep into your frightened eyes, forcing you into that liminal space of submission. Your eyes were brimming with not only fear but embarrassment.

“Spread your legs.” He whispers,

“I'm on my period,”

Another troubling moment of contemplation falls between you both and you're left to stare deep into each other's eyes as the restaurant's cultural music makes the ambience swell. It could be romantic, this energy that's festering between you two.

Even though you know it's anything but, you allow yourself to dip into those pools of delusion.

“You were fine this morning,” He says, and you note the grogginess that's begun to veneer his voice as he looks down at you.

Young, impressionable, darling you.

“I got it before we left, that's why I asked to use the bathroom again- point is,” you tug on his arm, “We can't.”

His eyes soften and for a split second, you think you see kindness there. Your gaze falls to his lips, anticipating the words they'd form.

“Spread your legs,” he says once more, before applying the necessary force to pry them apart yourself. “Let me in, Doll.”

A small whimper escapes you as you open your legs. You let him drift his hand under your skirt. His fingers are cold to the touch, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake as he inches them towards your cunt.

The second his fingers graze over your mound you gasp slightly before sitting forward with your head bowed. Your cast is behind the table as you hide your head in your hand. He watches you with heavy eyes, “It's rude to have your elbow on the table.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, trying to muffle yourself by the palm of your hand. You feel him swipe your underwear away. You feel his fingers dip into the pool of wetness at your entrance. Wetness you knew was not arousal.

“Don't look at me like that,” you mumble, staring down at the table as his fingers rub against your slick folds.

“Like what?” He asks.

In your periphery you can see him hunched over you slightly, his eyes on you and you alone. It was tiring having his attention. And so incredibly dangerous.

“Like you wanna eat me alive.”

He bends down, letting his fingers graze over your clit as he whispers, “I do. That's all I wanna do.”

The waitress returns with your food and you mumble a quiet ‘thank you,’ While your Salesman keeps his gaze locked on you.

“Grind down on my hand,” he urges and you shake your head,

“Do it.”

“Or what?” That was probably the worst thing to say to a sadist who looks like he's brimming for you to give him a reason to hurt him.

“Fuck my hand or I'll fuck you.”

You were feeling particularly stubborn today. The injury, the nurse, the hospital, the man and his wife… you're disgusted with this man beside. It dawns on you then that you have to get away from him.

“You can't do that-” you begin to whine but his voice is like steel when he reolies, “I thought we've established that there are many things I can do and very few I can't.”

All is quiet.

“Fuck my hand or I'll fuck you, I've been dying to play in your blood.”

You're still wrestling with either of your options, trying to outweigh the good against the bad was impossible when both choices just seemed bad. It puts you at an unfair disadvantage and you are drowning.

“W-Wait-”

“Times up.” He mumbles before removing his hand from your underwear. You're utterly horrified to find it stained in crimson.

He calls over the waiter, at least having the decency to hide his bloody hand behind your back as he politely says, “My wife is quite sick, could I be pointed to the bathroom, please?” He sounds so amicable, so deceptively kind, of course the waitress quietly urges the two of you to the bathrooms nestled at the back of the resturant.

“I'll do it-” you breath heavile as he urges you past tables, “I'll do just-”

“You picked too late," he whispers in your ear as he steers you into the female bathrooms. “Disqualified.” He says before pushing you into a sta. You could only thank your lucky stars that the stalls are empty but that is where you luck runs dry.

It's only you and your monster who's fervently unzipping his pants before locking you both in a cubicle.

“My arm hurts-” you begin but he turns you around, pushing your back against the door.

“Your cunt still works.” He repeats, “I didn't get to drive a knife into it the last time-” he whispers hoarsely as he plays drunken kisses all across your collarbone. You hate to admit how dizzying the effect of his kisses are. How they carry you off into a completely different mental state- where everything becomes morally grey. You felt like you could get off to almost anything in this state and so you don't bat an eye when he says, “I need to see your blood on my cock,”

In fact, you moan, trying to find your bearings as you slip so far into subspace. “You're not allowed to pass out on me-” he says, manically, breathing oh so heavily as he pulls his cock out over his slacks. “I'm not even using any of our favorite toys, you do not get to pass out.” He warns before slotting himself between your legs.

“W-wait- pull your pants all the way down, otherwise-” you hiccup, “I'll make a mess.”

A deep and low groan reverberates through his chest and you watch him lower his pants all the way down, revealing sculpted legs before he brings his cock to your cunt. It's wet enough to allow him to slide in smoothly, and he looks down between you, pressing down on your tummy as he watches your blood soak his cock.

“Here taste your blood,” He's prying your teeth open and you let him. Crimson floods your mouth and you moan around his fingers. There's a manic sort of edge to his laugh as he admits, “I’m not gonna last quick.” before he's kisses you deeply, grinding himself into you

“Fuck- you're filthy.” His eyes are absolutely insane as he drives his cock into you setting an unforgiving ppace. He snaps his hips against you, trying to drive his cock in further and further.

“Cum- I'm gonna cum-” He pulls back to urge, just as you hear someone walk into the bathroom. He's breathing heavily, surprisingly being mindful of your cast as he dips his hand down to your cunt. His fingers drag across the blood like it's the most fascinating thing on earth, and that has you cunt tightening around him.

A toilet flush, just as a whimper seeps through your lips. Your eyes are squeezed shut as you take his brutal fucking, watching him stab your cunt with his cock like he's daring himself to break you.

You place a hand on your mouth, muffling your violent cries as you buck your hips against him. Your own period pains that were flooding your system is beng fucked away. Your thighs and his pelvis are absolutely stained in crimson and his eyes are rolled back. Thankfully, the door opens and closes and you are alone once again.

“I love playing in your blood-” his voice cracks. Meanwhile, he's using you like a ragdoll. Through it all, you manage to ask the question plaguing your mind.

“Did he…” You moan, squeezing your eyes shut as the tip of his cock grazes your cervix, “Did your dad make it back?”

He rears his teeth, smiling in that twisted way that was far different from the smiles he gave everyone else. Only you got to see him like this. “Yes, Doll, he did.”

“W-What happened to him-oh god-” he picks up his pace grabbing your hips and pulling your cunt down on his cock.

“I killed him.” His eyes roll back into his skull and your mouth falls open. His cum floods your system and in that same moment his pelvis grazes along your clit, triggering your orgasm. You cum with tears in your eyes and it fills you with unmistakable dread.

If this man was capable of ending someone in his own bloodline, who were you in his eyes? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“Don't look so scared.” He whispers, still grunting as he emptied himself inside you, “He was useless. You- you're not useless.”

He kisses your face. Everywhere he can.

“You look like you're about to have a panic attack. Compose yourself.”

You breathe in thickly.

In and out.

In and out.

[swytdoll]

nsfw. slight somno.

✮⋆˙caleb always considered himself a true gentleman, taking pride in his manners and his ability to navigate life's complexities. yet, there were times when his polished exterior would slip. like now. the way he gently cradled your body, treating you like a fragile doll, showering soft kisses on your bare skin as you slept, was irresistible to him. you felt so warm and inviting. your soft snores, which might have bothered anyone else, only made him smile.

dark hair spread across the pillow, a few strands brushing against his face, bringing a grin to his lips. he cherished these little quirks about you—the way you curled up into a cozy ball, the way your nose twitched in your dreams. to him, every little detail was another reason to fall in love with you all over again. even after a long night that lasted until dawn peeked through the sheer curtains, he still yearned for more of you. it was only six twenty-five, yet the thought of being wrapped in your warm cunt stirred him awake.

with his calloused hands, he tenderly spread your thighs, his chest pressing warmly against your back as he nestled beside you. he vowed not to disturb your slumber, but a soft, unexpected moan slipped from his lips as he nudged his tip at your entrance. “my god, you’re so perfect.” your sleeping face contorts as he feeds you inch by inch, a familiar wetness allowing him to glide in effortlessly. he lets his eyes fall shut, relishing the feeling of you squeezing his shaft as he bottoms out. instinctively your back arches slightly as he begins to thrust, body naturally reacting to the slow, deep strokes. caleb shudders, pressing sloppy, wet kisses behind your ear as he molds you.

your breath is soft, a barely audible hum filling the quiet room. he sucks in a breath, the sound sending a tingle sensation from the top of his spine to his groin, where he can feel his cock swelling. the dark haired man hand wraps around your throat, holding your chin up as his lips explore the sensitive flesh of your neck. his strokes beginning to speed up, and the slight change in angle makes you stir awake. “ngnh! caleb!?” it’s hard to articulate as your husband pounds into you, his left hand digging into your hip, pulling you back onto his cock, splitting you.

“fuck, m’sorry ah—look so pretty when you sleep. shit, she’s suckin me in!” his voice is a deep, a rumbling whisper as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breath fanning against your cheek. the hand around your throat moves to the space between your breasts, keeping you pressed firmly against his body. the slick squelch of him pistoning into you filling the room like a melody, the bed shaking from his force.

he’s completely pussy drunk.

you can feel the way his muscles tense and flex with every thrust, his breathing labored. you love this side of him. it was a rare treat to see the normally composed, cool-headed man completely come undone. you feel his hand slide down from your breast, slender fingers splayed across your lower abdomen. “gah! feel me here?” his palm rests just below your navel, applying the smallest amount of pressure.

“y-yes, oh god!” it’s almost too much to take. caleb’s fat, pulsating cock stretching your walls, the mushroom tip nudging at your cervix. the lewd sounds of his dick gliding in and out of your cunt, his heavy balls slapping against your ass echoing through the room. his hand on your belly caresses the place he’s currently invading, making your head spin.

you’re a heap, moans coming out as strangled cries. his name spills from your lips, over and over like a broken record. your legs shaking as the knot in your stomach tightens, the telltale signs of your orgasm fast approach. caleb notices, of course, he notices everything.

his pace slows as his fingers find their way to your clit. you jolt, ‘s’okay. just relax.” he hums, rubbing small, firm circles against the swollen bud. “oh my gosh,” you whine, bucking back against him. it’s hard to keep your eyes from rolling back, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth. he groans, biting his lip. teeth sinking into his flesh as his hips pick up the pace again, pounding into you relentlessly. the hand at your clit is unwavering, pinching, flicking, rolling the button drawing out loud moans.

the knot in your belly snaps.

warmth washes over you as your orgasm wrecks your body. white light dancing in the corner of your vision, the intensity of the pleasure sending you reeling. caleb doesn’t stop, both hands now at your hips, pulling you back against him.

he’s close, his thrusts becoming more erratic, needy.

his voice is raspy, barely above a whisper as he mutters your name, followed by a long, drawn-out whine. the warmth of his cum fills you, thrusts slowing to a gentle rocking motion. after a moment, he pulls out, watching with an unbridled hunger as his seed drips from your abused pussy. the sun begins to rise, a faint yellow light streaming through the windows. caleb reaches over to the nightstand, picking up his phone. seven am. setting the phone back down he wraps his arms around you, fingers lightly dancing across your stomach. you find yourself leaning into his embrace, humming as he presses a soft kiss to your temple.

“good morning love.”

[ilovemilestellersmoustache]

Baby Bear

Bob Reynolds x Thunderbolts!Reader

Summary: Bobs pretty sure the entire world knows he’s in love with you… well everyone except maybe you

WC: 2.5K

Thunderbolts HQ – Briefing Room

Y/N had a way of entering a room like she owned it.

She didn’t. Technically, Valentina did or maybe the U.S. government, or whatever shady agency had signed off on assembling a misfit team of reformed killers and walking catastrophes, but none of that mattered the moment she stepped through the door.

The energy shifted.

Like a pressure drop before a storm. Like every molecule in the air sat up a little straighter, paying attention.

Y/N dropped her guns onto the metal table like she was throwing down poker chips, their heavy ends clicking against the surface. Before walking towards the kitchen to find something to absolutely destroy.

The sound jolted him.

Bob blinked once. Then again.

She hadn’t even looked at him yet.

He’d seen her fight armies. He’d watched her slide down glass buildings, run across flaming wreckage and then ask for a mint afterward like it was a Tuesday morning.

She was fearless. Effortlessly confident, quiet dominance and honey slick sarcasm all wrapped up in someone who didn’t just walk into dangers, she made it look like a runway.

And she had no idea that Bob Reynolds, the Golden Guardian of Good, the one man on Earth who could wrestle planets and outrun light, forgot how to breathe whenever she was in the room.

Yelena Belova, seated beside him, noticed immediately.

She always did.

The blonde leaned back in her chair beside Bob with a barely suppressed smirk, elbow resting on the armrest, one boot kicking lazily in the air.

“You’re drooling again,” she whispered, lips barely moving.

Bob straightened, tugging the sleeves of his hoodie down over his wrists. “I’m not drooling,” he whispered back.

“Very charming. Very nonchalant, she doesnt suspect a thing when your pupils turn into hearts.”

John Finally chimes in across them, leaned forward, arms crossed and smug as ever. “Bobby, she’s placed some kind of love spell on you or what? You go all mushy and dumb when shes around.”

Bob glared at him. “You try staying calm around her.”

“Please,” Ava mutters, eyes skimming the mission files in front of her. “Remember last week? She asked him to pass a pen, and he stared at her like she’d just proposed to him in a foreign language.”

“Three minutes,” Bucky said from the shadows in the corner, arms folded, metal hand tapping his thigh. “I counted.”

Alexei gave a booming laugh from where he was sprawled on a nearby couch, half eating a granola bar like it was his last meal. “You all tease him, but I say let Robert feel things!! He is soft hearted. Like bear. Very big. Very powerful. Very… squishy.”

“I’m literally indestructible,” Bob muttered through gritted teeth.

“Yes, yes,” Alexei waved him off. “Physically. But emotionally? You are like bear and she is child who loves you. Like story where she eats bears food and you know sleep in bears bed, but Robert you cannot get her in your bed- Wait! no no no. You are like crying child and she is baby bear that makes child stop crying.”

Then, as if summoned by the sheer force of Bob’s rising internal panic, Y/N walks her way back in looking right at him.

“Hey Bob,” she said, voice low and smooth. She tilted her head slightly, lips quirking into a lazy half-smile. “You got a hair tie?”

Bob froze.

His brain arguably one of the most complex thing in existence crashed.

Hair tie. She asked for a hair tie. Words. Say words, idiot.

“Uh- yeah. Yes,” he stammered, fumbling into his hoodie pocket. “I always carry extras. Because, you know… uh… long hair. Wind. Physics.”

She smiled, this soft, devastating thing that punched straight through his solar plexus. “Alright… thanks.” She Giggled

Her fingers brushed his as she took the black hair tie. She tied her hair into a high, messy ponytail, strands falling like silk over the curve of her neck, then sauntered off toward the training wing.

Bob stared at her completely entranced mouth slightly opened.

Yelena gave him a slow, pitying pat on the shoulder. “You poor, poor boy.”

Bob didn’t reply.

Mostly because his heart was beating somewhere around the edge of the universe and his entire body felt like it was trying to go supernova.

⸻

Thunderbolts HQ – Game Room

The downtime between missions was dangerous for one reason: the team got bored. And when the Thunderbolts got bored, anything can happen.

So, naturally, a storm of chaos had descended on their shared Game room. Alexei had rigged the speakers to play a playlist titled “Avengerz Promo Sponsor Party Mix”

John commandeered the liquor cabinet, and Yelena drunk on three Moscow Mules and pure chaos declared, “Truth or Dare. No cowards. No skipping. No secrets.”

Bob Reynolds had made the mistake of entering the room three minutes too late.

He saw the bottle in the center of the circle. The shit eating grins. The glint in Yelena’s eye.

He tried to retreat.

“Nope,” she said, catching him by the sleeve like a hawk snagging prey. “You’re glowing like a guilty conscience. Sit down, loverboy. Time to be emotionally violated for entertainment.”

“I’d really rather not—”

“Sit.”

Bob sat.

The circle was complete: Yelena, John, Ava, Bucky, Alexei with a martini in one hand and a sandwich in the other and Y/N, sprawled across a beanbag chair, legs crossed, sipping a fizzy drink.

It was John who spun the bottle. It clinked around like a grenade waiting to explode and landed on Bob.

“Oh no,” he mumbled.

“Oh yes,” Yelena purred, eyes lighting up like Christmas. “Truth: Have you ever had a very obvious, glowing, borderline worshipful crush on anyone in this room?”

Bob blinked. Then again. “I—I mean—define ‘worshipful’—”

“Oh my god,” Ava groaned, facepalming. “Just admit you’re in love with Y/N and we can all move on with our lives.”

Y/N, who had just popped a piece of candy in her mouth, blinked. “Wait, what?”

Bob looked like someone had unplugged his brain mid thought.

“You guys think Bob likes me?” she said, the laugh bubbling out of her like it was the most ridiculous concept she’d ever heard. “Why?”

Everyone groaned like it physically hurt.

“Why?” Yelena repeated, throwing her hands up. “Because he goes full blabbering when you walk into a room. Because he stares at you like you’re the damn moon during an eclipse. Because he carries extra hair ties like he’s your personal assistant-slash-devotee. And don’t get me started on the poetry—”

“I do not write poetry—” Bob cut in quickly, face now the color of Alexei’s suit.

“Yes, you do,” John said flatly, sipping a beer. “I read it. It’s in your dumb little notebook. You rhymed ‘dagger’ with ‘swagger’ and compared her to fire and divine judgment.”

Bob buried his face in his hands. “This is actual torture.”

Bucky, already drunk out of his mind laughed so hard he nearly choked on his drink.

Y/N, meanwhile, was still staring at Bob like he was a jigsaw puzzle she’d finally realized was a love letter. She didn’t look embarrassed. Just… quietly stunned.

“Huh,” she said at last.

“Huh?” Yelena echoed in horror. “That’s it?”

Y/N turned her full attention to Bob. “That’s kind of sweet, actually.”

Bob looked up through his fingers, stunned. “It is?”

“Yeah.” She smiled at him genuine, unguarded. “I always thought you were cute. Didn’t know you felt the same.”

His jaw dropped. “Wait, what?”

“I thought you weren’t a fan of me that much. Or, you know… had some secret laser vision so you couldn’t look me in the eyes ever.”

Bob blinked slowly, like someone was rebooting his system.

Y/N shrugged, leaning forward now, elbows on her knees. “Guess we’re both a little oblivious.”

Yelena made a strangled noise in the back of her throat. “What?! That’s it?! No dramatic kiss? No screaming ‘finally’ and falling into each other’s arms? What kind of slow burn payoff is this?!”

Y/N rolled her eyes with a grin, stood up, and stretched like a cat. “Sorry to disappoint, Belova.”

She turned to Bob, tossed one of her hands to him like a casually flirty peace offering. “Come on, Golden Boy. Let’s go spar. You can glow at me while I kick your ass.”

He caught it barely and stood, grinning like an idiot. “Only if you go easy on me.”

“Never.”

As they walked out, shoulder to shoulder, Bob practically levitating with joy, the rest of the room watched them go with varying degrees of amusement and disbelief.

Alexei raised his glass. “Look at my baby bear and my crying not so much crying now child.”

“Glad that’s out now, don’t know how much more yearning I could read about, but you do know they’re gonna be all gross and disgusting now right?” John added, taking a long sip.

Yelena stared at the door, still stunned. “Better then having to watch Bob sulk every day, you know what… Someone write this down. We made actual emotional progress today.”

Ava sighed. “I give them two weeks before we catch them together doing it somewhere crazy.”

Everyone nodded solemnly.

It wasn’t 2 weeks. It was 10 minutes after.

⸻

A/N: TOWER FICS ARE SOOOOOOO BACK

please comment more ideas!!

[dollbrbie]

MAKE UP SEX ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

꒰ criminal!sukuna m.list ꒱

“you didn’t need to come get me.”, you sigh, staring out of the window of you ex boyfriend’s car as you face away from him.

“are you kidding?” he scoffs, “you sounded like a mess over the phone.”

you roll your eyes at his comment. you had previously been at the club with your girls, just wanting a fun night out until you found yourself paralytic drunk, and calling your ex boyfriend with slurred words and childish giggles.

it wasn’t long before sukuna was storming into the place, his brows furrowed with concern whilst pulling your by your arm and into his car, forcing you to drink a bottle of water with scolding words.

“are you still drinking your water?”, he asks with a firm tone, side eyeing you.

“yes.”, you mumble, taking a sip of the cold bottle of water which has been sobering you up well enough.

pulling up to your apartment complex, sukuna asks, “what made you call me, anyway? aren’t you the one usually scolding me for that.”

“i dunno.. in the moment i just missed you, i think.”

“you think?” he repeats sarcastically before turning to face you, his attention fully on you, “what are we doing here, hm? we’re exes but we certainly don’t act like it. do you actually miss me or are you just keeping me around until you find the next guy?”

you scoff before replying, “you think i put myself through this just because? obviously i miss you, sukuna. but, how am i meant to feel safe around you with the shit you do?”

“you’ve got marbles for brains if you think i’d let anything happen to you. don’t you get i fucking love you?”

you’re silent for a moment, “even after all this?”

“you for real? especially after all this.”

soon followed your hand grasping onto the steamy windows of sukuna’s car, your pretty moans falling from your parted lips as sukuna bottoms out inside of you with his pelvis colliding with the plush of your ass.

“fuck.. forgot how good this pussy felt, baby.”, he groans, one hand entwined with yours and the other balancing himself in the backseat of his car as he fucks you dumb, admiring your trembling form and your fucked out face.

“tell me y’missed me.”, he demands with a whisper, nibbling on the bottom of your ear and eliciting a whine from you.

“missed you.. so much.”, you cry out as you feel sukuna abuse your g spot, your walls clenching around his cock.

he hisses at the feeling of your walls flutting around him before replying, “yeah? couldn’t stop thinking about you, y’know. you’re all i damn thought about.”

you whimper out his name, feeling your pleasure build up to it’s tipping point as your toes curling and your breaths becoming heavy, desperate for your own orgasm.

“i know, baby. hold out a little f’me, okay? m’ gonna cum soon as well.”, he says, his thumb rubbing small circles on your hand as he buries his face into the side of your neck, continuing to abuse your sweet spot until his cock throbs.

you suddenly feel the electricity of your climax, crying out your ex’s name like a beautiful prayer with your head thrown back and your hand gripping onto his.

“shit- inside or out?”, he asks, his orgasm so close as he feels the consistent clenching of your walls around his throbbing cock.

“in- in- in.”, you chant, desperate to feel his orgasm, to feel him claim and take you as his once more.

and so he does, emptying himself completely inside of your wanting walls, reaching down to kiss your parted lips as he shudders from the overwhelming sensation of his own orgasm.

“fuck, baby..”, he mutters out, his chest heavy as he comes down from his high, looking at your glossy eyes as he traces his thumb against your parted lips, “i’m not letting you leave me again, and i’ll never let anything happen to you.”

“i know.”, you mutter, looking up at the man you love knowing you were his and he was yours.

© dollbrbie | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[caramel-ribbons]

I just watched Avatar for the first time all the way through, and yeah, it’s great, but the one thing that surprised me was how different Katara was compared to the fandom interpretation I’d seen and internalized before watching.

Like, before you watch Avatar, you’ve seen all these memes about Katara and her mom, and based on those memes, you assume it’s one of those lines you have to get used to hearing at least once every episode. But then you watch the show and realize that she only talks about her mom maybe five or six times per season and you also realize she only brings her up when she’s trying to comfort someone or empathize with them because that’s how she processes her grief and that’s one way she connects with people.

Or you hear the infamous line, “then you didn’t love [our mother] the way I did” and you prepare yourself for one of the worst character assassinations ever only to see the scene after nearly three seasons worth of context and realize she was kinda right. She’s been the mother, the nurturer, the comforter. She’s been patient, gentle, and accommodating where everyone else has gotten to be insensible and reckless and childish, and the one moment where she allows herself to feel her grief, suddenly she’s this evil bitch and not, y’know, a 14 year old girl whose been thrusted into adulthood in a way no other character has. A 14 year old girl who should be allowed immaturity and raw emotion and anger instead of the patience and grace she’s been forced to extend to every character without even the smallest amount of gratitude or even consideration in return.

Or you see all of the clips where Katara puts Aang in the “friendzone” and you expect to have this wishy washy back and forth where Aang is putting his feelings out there only to have Katara neither commit nor express any clear reciprocation or rejection. Then you watch and realize that, as cute as the ship is initially, that there’s never a point where Aang returns any comfort or grace to Katara despite her always doing this for him to the point of coddling. That for as much as Aang says he loves her, he never seems to outgrow his perception of her so he can recognize her as someone who feels grief, anger, and pain as much as she expresses love, kindness, and maturity. And instead of having moments where he learns to see her beyond her strength or compassion, you’re instead given moments where Aang forces his feelings onto her, both romantic and non-romantic, and Katara is expected to just…shoulder those feelings the way she shoulders everyone else’s.

Katara is the most misunderstood character in the show. As much as people recognize the complexities of Zuko, Sokka, and Azula, they struggle to do the same for Katara because they see her struggles as somehow lesser, and therefore, less deserving of sympathy. They can handle her so long as she’s being endlessly patient and loving and kind, but the moment her endless love, patience, and kindness runs out, she’s suddenly this annoying bitch who can’t shut up about her mother or reciprocate Aang’s feelings. But Katara’s trauma does matter as much as anyone else’s. No, she wasn’t banished from her kingdom. No, she didn’t lose her entire community, and no, she isn’t the only one who lost her mother. But the difference between her and everyone else whose experienced loss because of the Fire Nation is that she’s never given time to process her trauma. Aang gets to lean on Katara constantly. Toph gets to express her feelings to Katara, and yeah, Sokka also lost their mother, but unlike Katara, he isn’t put in the position of being a substitute for everyone’s parent. He even admits that he sees his sister as a mother. The only characters who ever comfort Katara or allow her to vent is Zuko and her father and that’s, like, three scenes in a show where the other characters are consistently given opportunities to seek out Katara for unconditional support.

The fandom interpretation of Katara has been so bastardized that even those who haven’t watched the show know her for this fanon version and not for who she is. She’s such an interesting character beyond her fandom limitations, though. She’s brave, hot-headed, and hopeful as well as gentle and caring. She wishes to learn waterbending, not only because she wants to fight in the war, but because she wants to continue her culture’s practices because, and people often forget this, she also lost an entire subculture within her already fractured tribe. And she wants to defeat the Fire Nation both because of her deep love and empathy for other people, but also because she wants to avenge her mother. But because some of the fans have reduced Katara to a bitch who constantly whines about her mother and friendzones Aang, you wouldn’t know any of this, and it sucks because she’s the only character whose been dumbed down to such an extent.

[hanasnx]

SQUIRTING — s.reid

“ i love how you touch, how you feel, how you breathe / baby, how you do it so good? ” 🪽

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ✉️ | criminal minds. NOTES. never seen one single episode of criminal minds but i did miss my mutual @ddejavvu’s bday last october and wanted to make up for it. WARNINGS. fem reader ノ established relationship ノ potentially ooc spencer ノ fem squirting ノ pussy eating & orgasm mentions ノ vaginal fingering ノ explicit sexual content ノ praise kink (f receiving) ノ squirt obsessed spencer ノ lowkey unedited.

Don’t be fooled by SPENCER REID’s calm demeanor and harmless facade. Don’t get caught up in that little smile he does when he has nothing further to say, or the way his fluffy hair flops over his forehead when he inclines down to lend you an ear to hear you better. Don’t let your guard down when he info dumps his latest fascination, having traversed the rabbit hole of complex animal mating cycles or the latest scientific observation of quarks. Dr. Reid is no one to be underestimated.

You should’ve known better than to think of him as disarming and therefore “harmless.” It’s the first time in a long time that you’ve been so wrapped up in a guy, coming up for air rarely while you’re practically living at his place. Your clothes are strewn about his apartment, your favorite shampoo is in his shower, he bought you your own toothbrush to keep on your shelf in his medicine cabinet. Oh, it’s bad. There’s no turning back now. You’re completely and utterly helpless. If you could go back in time to warn your past self of the madness you’re about to endure…

“C’mon, baby, one more. Can’t you do one more?” it’s a plea devoid of any doubt, he can feel the way you’re pulsing around his fingers. It’s the familiar rev that quakes just before a big release, and his knuckles know the tremor intimately. That brain isn’t just used for his job, it’s memorized every part of you—even the parts you thought you weren’t ready to share.

You writhe, desperately nuzzling the back of your head into the mattress, heating up from the friction. Gritting your teeth, your body feels like it’s on fire, and the build in your gut is like something’s being taken from you. It’s a merciless pace completed by three of the longest fingers you’ve ever had inside of you, bullying your insides relentlessly prodding that spongy spot to chase a most coveted reaction. Your muscles contract and stretch, lifting your pelvis from the pillow he set it on like it’s demanding more. It’s a primal instinct, involuntarily rocking into his ramming in tandem. Your eyes squeeze shut from the pain of it, and yet you can’t stop.

“I can’t do it- I can’t do it, Spenc—ah!” you interrupt your own rebuke, your nails clawing into the purchase of the sheets as your spine goes limp. He doesn’t miss a beat, following you down to keep battering your soft tissue in just the right curl. Your tailbone has collapsed back onto the puddle of wetness, it’s cold to the touch, but you can’t even focus on how jarring the difference in temperature is right now.

You breathe like you’re readying for something, you pant like you’re in danger. Your chest rises and falls with rapid puffs of air, a sheen of sweat coating your skin—you can’t take this anymore.

Mesmerized, Spencer watches your poor pussy swallow his hand up. The wet squelching of leftover cream spatters out with every visceral plug, and his tongue forms over his upper lip to keep it busy. Your little clit calls out to him, he can feel it between his lips already. All soft and gooey, puffy and overstimulated, running between his spit-soaked lips as you scream from the two forces working together to make you cum. Not this time, he thinks, it’s not that kind of thing this time. His other hand grasps his cramping wrist, using it to cram into you faster, those three fingers forming a cone inside you to stroke the tips against the roof of you, and you cry out.

You reach for him, you try to grip anything you can, anything to get him to let up—to get him to stop. Mercy, you want. “You can, sweetheart, you can. I know it.” Sweat beads his forehead as he consoles you, letting you howl it out until he’s satisfied.

Miraculously, you manage to focus your efforts on one task. You lift your head, the prettiest and most pitiful upturn in your brows silently beckons him. It’s a silent request regardless of the noises whimpering out of your nose, you sound like a whining puppy while you make grabby hands at him. He knows what you want. Carefully, he adjusts so as to not upset the angle of his entry, but honoring your wish. Ignoring the burn of effort in his shoulder, he lays his head on your chest, and your legs suspended on either side of him bob from how hard he’s still fingering you. Your arms encase him, holding him close, clutching on for dear life as he finally tips you over that edge. There’s a change, the subtlest of tenses in your abdomen, like the tickle of pepper under a nose to attract a sneeze. You seize up, your cunt clenches down like a vice, and it idles. It’s the suspense at the top of a roller coaster.

“Oh, yeah… Oh, yeah, baby. That’s it. That’s it, uh-huh.” It’s a babble you can barely hear over the roaring in your ears, finally gushing out a hot spray. Your pussy becomes a fountain, squirting a mile high like you’ve been holding it in this whole time. It comes from deep within you, a secret stream only he can lovingly coax out. You had no idea there was anything even left in you, and yet Spencer’s patience can simply outlive your doubts, determined to wring every last drop out of you.

You can’t open your eyes, you can’t stop the earthquake in your legs, and your claws dig into his scalp. The noises you make are matched by him, groaning in maddened relief and joy at what he’s accomplished. It gets everywhere, drenching the front of his clothes as it pours down. The bed frame and the carpet and the furniture behind him are rained on, and there’s not a single thought in his mind of regret. Your abdomen flexes, pushing out every wave in pulses until it fizzles out. His hand slows, your breathing evens out, and your locked up body begins to relax muscle by muscle. He peels himself out of your hold, your limp limbs unable to put up any fight to keep him cuddled up on you. Lazily, your head lulls in his direction, eyes peering at him reverently stroke his palms over your puddle on the bed. All the releases he took from you perfectly layered on his navy blue sheets. His slack jaw encapsulates his awe at his handiwork, meeting your gaze with a brazen emotion nothing short of pride.

@HANASNX 2025 | do not copy, plagiarize, or steal.

[goaskangel]

boyfriend!suguru finally fucking you!

cw : dark themes, reader is implied to have a toxic ex, gross n pervy suguru, taking advantage(?), first time fucking, shame and humiliation

word count : 1k

suguru couldn’t even compare to your ex-boyfriend. his features much too perfect. his long, inky locks that drape down upon him like a statue; clean shaven face and a pale complex complimenting his black hair. tall, broad body that almost seems unreal. 

no matter what he wore, whether it be casual wear or his lushful silk robes, which he promises are for his great-motivated, good-intentioned religious group, he just looks absolute. 

so good to you too, a man of masculinity and delicacy. understanding and reassuring, often guiding you with his soft words. not at all manipulative, you tell yourself. more encouraging. he's knowledgeable; people come to him with their problems, so how lucky are you for him to choose you? you find your heart swooning over him, like your former boyfriend’s exploitation and misuse all disapeeared. suguru does so much for you. 

you can’t help but open up to him. his almost paternal instinct towards you is intoxicating, so comforting. he deals with your past mistakes and engraved trauma so gently, telling you it’s not permanent, that growth’s the only way out. his sweet face smiles softly, nodding in reassurance. his eyes showing real worry and compassion. 

the day comes, when you tell him you want him, his gaze shows something immoral. 

he wastes no time, god forbid you change your mind! his lips find yours impatiently, his usual soft holds feeling more like gropes, possessive and needy. his larger and dominant frame pushing you towards your shared bed before kissing you. getting you ready with your head timidly resting on fluffed pillows, suguru’s body between your thighs. 

his flowing layers of fabric coming undone slowly as he reveals inches of his skin piece by piece. you admire the sight with the anxiety bashing behind your eyes. having been sexually intimate wasn’t a part of your agenda after your ex, the fear of being hurt and used threatening to prick your waterline. 

no, no, your suguru wasn’t like that. much too confident and sweet to even dare about touching you like that. 

but unknown to you, his solo orgasms would only come to the thought of you. his distressed, pretty baby craving just love and affection after what happened and god, did he wanna give it to you. days of fisting himself to the thought of the fear and lust in your face when he finally gets his hands on you, and here you are beneath him. 

he peppers kisses on your neck as your hands push up against his chest, his big hands snaking their way to rid you of your clothes. left in your bra and panties, slightly shaky. 

“scared?… don’t be scared, pretty.” he hovers over you, intoxicating you with all of him. burly muscles and sensual bronze body, long hair and a lustful musk. he strokes the side of your face and kisses your lips. 

you can’t speak, too overwhelmed with the sight so you gaze down at the little space between your bodies. watching as he hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties and tossing them. you want this but you can’t help but close your legs, keeping your fidgety hands delicately under your breasts. he takes this time to unravel the rest of himself, his cock finally unconfined and unbelievably hard. you shudder, your stunned look coming back to look at him. hungry and mean, suguru’s sly gaze coming face to face with you as he forces himself back between you, “yeah, there it is.” his fat tip brushing up against you naturally. you whine at the exposure but he shushes you, sitting up properly to get into a more controlled missionary. 

“sugu…” you wince at the tight grip he has on your thighs as he lines himself up, your mumbled words going unheard. 

satisfied but still longing, he lets out a groan that goes straight to your core when he pushes himself into you. your clamping down onto him, tight and wet. so, so hot as he fucks his heavy cock into you. his pace hitting you deeply, a sudden wave of embarrassment and shame comes through you. shame from enjoying this again, so stupid but it doesn’t matter–he’s yours and you’re his. you repeat that in your mind until he speaks, 

“yeah, that feels real good, huh?” cooing down to your neck again, whispering, “he fuck you like this, mm?” 

you tense up, unsure fingertips grazing his wide shoulders as you stay speechless. 

“such a tight pussy, must’ve had some fun breaking you open.” 

“oh–god–” shame, shame, shame.

“this how he did it?” his teeth threatening against your ear as he fucks his hips into you throughly, “while you were cryin’ and beggin’. mmm, he told you to stay quiet? yeah?” 

your eyes water, your hold on him getting tighter as you hide in his neck. “shh, shh.” teasing you, humiliating you, when you sniffle. 

“stay quiet for me, girl. be quiet an’ it’ll all be over soon, okay?”

“suguru, please…” 

“mhmmm.” he humps himself into your very aroused cunt, the obscene sounds could’ve made you moan aloud if it weren’t for his words. he presses open mouth kisses onto your flushed cheeks before pushing his tongue into your mouth. your already troubled breath hitching again as you swirled saliva into each other’s faces, your boyfriend’s large tongue fucking your mouth. 

when he pulls away, to get a good look at you whilst still rocking his hips, he catches a glimpse of you blinking away hot tears. catching your breath with glossy eyes and a tight grip on him. 

“don’t cry, you feel good, baby. c’mon now,” grinning and thumbing the wet stripes away.

“you take my cock so well, jus’ what you were made for, hm?” 

you pout your shiny lips and nod, slowly getting dazed as your orgasm reaches you. his dirty, perverted words getting you the closest you’ve ever been so quick. his groans and breathing picks up when he feels himself getting to the edge. 

“so perfect for letting me do this to you, haah–perfect, perfect girl.” bucking his strong body into you before fucking a fat load directly at the surface of your sweet cervix, your wet walls coming right on his cock, practically sucking every drop of his seed into you. eek you really are so perfect for him!! 

masterlist

[lovelivision]

THE COMPLEX ✧₊

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: fushiguro toji/reader

𝐖𝐂: 9.7k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after you catch your ex cheating on you in your shared apartment, you run into your mysterious neighbour. surprisingly, you find a friendship in him you weren't expecting. he's especially handy in helping you put together your new bed frame

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, swearing, cheating (not by reader or toji), flirting, dirty talk, cunnilingus, p in v sex, mating press, dacryphilia, fingering, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, creampie, cum play, tease!toji, f!reader

Coming home after a long day of work is something that should bring you joy but as you cross the threshold of the apartment you share with your boyfriend; you know something is wrong. The abrupt cut off of what sounded like moans followed by frantic shuffling doesn’t give you much of a chance to think the best of him.

Already knowing what’s coming, you begin looking for your suitcase you have stored away. Checking the linen cupboard in the hall first and pulling it out, dragging it behind you when your – soon to be – ex-boyfriend leaves your shared room.

“You’re home early!” He looks nervous, like he can’t tell if he’s been caught or not yet. He’s about to say something else when his eyes flick to the suitcase you pulled out of the cupboard, “Going on a trip or something?” The chuckle he lets out is awkward and off-putting.

Ignoring his question, you walk past him wordlessly, pushing towards your bedroom, you just want to pack as much of your shit as you can manage and get out of here.

He rushes to get in front of you, stopping you from entering the room, “Why won’t you say anything?”

“What do you expect me to say?” You look at him with nothing but apathy, giving him no chance to pull a fast one on you, “You want me to scream? Cry maybe? Beg you to tell me all the dirty little details?”

“I expect you to care at least a little bit! Ask me why, how long, anything!” His voice raises at you, like he has any right to be mad.

“Those kinds of questions give you hope that I’ll stay,” your hand reaches for the door handle behind him, “And I have no intention of staying,” walking forward in spite of him blocking you, forcing him to either move or stop you.

Acquiescing, he lets you pass him. There is no shock when you’re confronted with the half-naked girl in your bed, the bed you bought – he can keep it. It’s also no shock to see she’s someone your boyfriend works with, what was it again? His work wife? No matter how many times you mentioned that her clinginess and his unwillingness to set boundaries made you uncomfortable he never did anything to make you feel better.

Maybe if you had been paying more attention to him, if you hadn’t checked out of the relationship months ago, you would’ve been able to stop him from cheating. Then again, if you have to stop someone from cheating they aren’t worth your time.

You’d consider saying something to her but there isn’t anything that wouldn’t be a waste of breath, not when she’s sat so smugly wrapped in your favourite sheets. She’s proud of herself and you just can’t seem to comprehend why, the prize she won is some loser who was willing to cheat on his long-term girlfriend.

The suitcase in your hand is thrown onto the bed haphazardly, she startles at the bounce in the mattress, like you were going to hurt her or something. That’s something you find amusing, smile small as you tug open the zipper calmly.

Your boyfriend follows you around the room as you pick up all the necessities you can fit, “Are you seriously just going to leave like this?”

Without looking at him you answer, “Yeah.”

“Why won’t you even try and fight for me?” He sounds desperate and angry.

Pausing, you look him straight in the eyes, “Because I don’t want you.”

“No wonder he cheated on you,” his work wife scoffs from the bed, finally pulling herself out of it, rushing off to the bathroom to change. The speed in which she leaves the room after her comment almost makes you chuckle, like she’s still scared you’ll hurt her.

“Don’t you love me?” He pleads, ignoring her comment.

Instead of answering, you turn it back on him, “Did you love me while you were fucking her?” You don’t wait for his reply, going back to your suitcase.

“Of course I did,” he cements, like he means it, and hell maybe he does but just because he means it doesn’t change what he did.

“Why are you so surprised?” You pull the zip closed and tug everything off the bed, looking at him in exasperation, “I told you that cheating is a deal breaker for me, it always has been, and it always will be, so stop acting so incensed or like I blindsided you with this reaction.”

He glares at you harshly, like he’s the wronged party here, “I thought you would care more.”

“You thought wrong,” it’s taking a lot to continue this façade of indifference, and while you certainly don’t feel as effected as some would, it still hurts, you’re still livid, but mostly you’re tired.

“I never realised how much of a cold-hearted bitch you were,” his tone is cold, words cutting through you sharply.

Sighing at him, you say, “I’ll come back for the rest of my stuff later this week, if any of it’s missing or damaged I’ll be calling the cops.” Grabbing your handbag, you walk to the front door, suitcase rolling behind you, “Just in case this wasn’t clear enough, I’m breaking up with you.”

“You haven’t even let me say anything,” he’s almost frantic, like he’s stunned by your verbalisation of the breakup. “Wait, don’t leave! We can talk about this can’t we?”

Pulling the door open, you don’t look back, “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Your steps in the hallway of the building are rushed, worried that he’s going to follow you. Finger pressing into the elevator call button quickly like that will make it come quicker. It opens just as the door to your apartment does and you feel your heart rate spike, thumb slamming into the ‘door close’ symbol.

Foot tapping impatiently on the floor as you wait for it to reach the lobby, hoping you get there before him. The fact he can switch so quickly between calling you a cold-hearted bitch and begging you to stay is chilling, just who were you living with for all these years.

When the elevator dings you’re so caught up in your thoughts that you jump slightly and then you haul ass, going for the front door before thinking better of it. If he really does intend on coming after you then it might be better to go out the back.

The back of the building is a grimy alley and while you’d really rather not go back there, you’d really rather not run into your ex more, so grimy alley it is. It’s a struggle to open the door with your handbag on your shoulder and suitcase in your other hand. You manage it though, it’s just unfortunate that when you start down the steps you stumble slightly as your suitcase wheel gets caught on one of the stairs, your handbag falls to the floor as you struggle to catch yourself on the railing.

You’re pissed off and grumbly as you pull on your suitcase forcefully, “Just my fucking luck, God, what an awful fucking night. These stupid fucking stairs, always hated it back here–”

A short chuckle sounds from behind and it scares the hell out of you. Spinning around quickly and placing a hand over your racing heart, you see it’s just your neighbour. You’ve seen him in the hall a few times, never saying more than a friendly hello and quick nod of acknowledgement.

He seemed polite enough, you would’ve gotten to know him better, but your ex had told you to stay away from him. Making claims like he was dangerous and bad news; you don’t know if you ever believed him, but he clearly felt some type of way about you being friendly with him, so you kept your distance. Mostly out of respect for your relationship and your partners boundaries but that’s a little bit ironic now, after tonight.

Your neighbour is all too amused when he apologies for obviously frightening you, “Sorry, doll, didn’t mean to scare ya.”

Turning your back on him and leaning down to your bag, you acknowledge his apology, “It’s fine,” you’re trying to be polite but you’re still in a foul mood.

“Need any help?” He offers when he sees you struggling to put everything back in your handbag. Head tilted as he checks out your ass in your tight work skirt before realising he’s staring and looking away before you can notice.

“No.” You answer without looking up, though it comes out harsher than you mean for it to, clearing your throat lightly, you add, “No, I can manage, thank you though.”

His tongue clicks, “What are you doing in this alley, shouldn’t you be going out the front?”

Without missing a beat, you turn the question back on him, “What are you doing in this alley?” Finally standing and raising to look pointedly back at him, handbag placed precariously on top of your suitcase.

Wordlessly, he takes a drag of the cigarette you hadn’t noticed he was smoking, blowing the smoke off to the side, away from you. His smile too big when he notices how your expression twists in slight embarrassment when realising his very obvious reason for being back here.

“You gonna tell me why you’re back here or are you going for some kind of mysterious woman vibe?” He’s glib, annoyingly so.

But attractive, in an irritating kind of way, the kind of way that pisses you off because how dare he be that hot and also be looking at you like that.

Your reply is straightforward, “It’s not a mystery, you’re just a stranger.”

“Cranky little thing aren’t ya?” Smirking to himself when he mentions your bad mood, like it’s so funny.

That pisses you off, you were trying so hard to be polite to him and while you were failing, you were trying, “Listen here mister ‘I’m so handsome I can get away with being an annoying asshole to strangers–’.”

“–Toji.”

You fumble slightly, taken aback by his interruption, “What?”

“That’s my name,” he looks pleased with himself for throwing you off. It’s like he’s trying to win an award for annoying you.

Frowning, you brush him off and continue on your mini tirade, “Right, well, I have had an especially foul evening and the last thing I need after walking in on my boyfriend cheating on me, is some dick telling me I’m awfully cranky. I think I should be crankier actually!”

He huffs out an amused breath at your frustrated rant, “Normally you give your name back after someone’s offered theirs.”

You squint at him, scrutinising his person. Hesitating in answering him but ultimately you give him your name, not seeing the harm in it.

It’s like he mulls it over, smiling to himself before saying unprompted, “A damn shame to see you go, doll.”

“I’m so sure,” you snark back.

Taking a step forward, you go to leave the alley, but he speaks again, “I got one question though…”

Stopping in your tracks, you turn to face him properly, hand propped on your hip, “And what’s that?”

“Why are you the one leaving?” His head tilts at you.

You don’t know why, but you decide to answer him, “It was his place first,” you shuffle from side to side, “Plus I’m not particularly fond of the fact that they’ve potentially fucked in every square inch of that place…”

He barks a short laugh at your statement, “You know… if you were my girlfriend,” he leans in towards you, “I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

“Yeah that means so much to me mysterious neighbour who I’ve never spoken more than a few words to in passing,” you deadpan back at him.

There’s an entertained look on his face as he eyes you up and down, grinning to himself before taking another drag of his cigarette.

Your foot taps impatiently while you wait for him to say more, he looks like he wants to say more but the longer it takes him to talk the more you’re not fully convinced he has anything to say. Puffing, you turn to walk off, only to get stopped by his words, again.

“You got a place to stay?”

Your brow raises at him, “Yeah… I do.”

He shrugs, “That’s too bad.”

“Stop flirting with me! I literally just found out my ex of many years has been cheating on me,” frown prominent on your face as you accuse him adeptly of hitting on you.

His shoulders shake with a chuckle, “The first time I’ve gotten to say more than a few words to you in passing, just making the most of it.”

Something clicks for you, “Now I see why my ex didn’t like you very much.”

“And why’s that?”  He’s smug when he asks.

“He’s insecure and you’re very clearly a flirt.”

Unbothered, he answers simply, “Not usually, you just so happen to be my type.”

You click your tongue, caught between shocked and completely unsurprised by him, “Awfully blunt aren’t you?”

Toji smiles at you as he takes another drag, blowing the smoke away quickly, “If you want someone there when you’re picking up the rest of your shit from that jackasses place, feel free to knock on my door,” he follows up his statement with a wink, dropping his smoke and stomping it out. He’s walking to the door, adding, “Stay safe out there, doll. I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”

How presumptuous of him, he’s such an ass, and just as you go to tell him as such, he’s closing the door and presumably going back up to his apartment. Your face scrunches as you think of all the things you could’ve said to him and at the things you shouldn’t have said to him. He didn’t need to know all about your relationship like that… tonight just keeps getting worse for you.

At least you wasted enough time that if your ex did follow you down like he seemed he was going to, he’s probably left by now.

✮.

Staying with your friends is uncomfortable, they’re dating and happy and you’re sour about it. Their displays of affection are prompting you to get into motion though, finding a reasonably cheap place to live fairly quick. Fuelled by nothing but bitterness and a sickening feeling like you’ve wasted too much time with your ex.

The next step is going back to that apartment and collecting more of your valuables, having left behind a bunch of things that would’ve been too much of a hassle to grab in the moment. Taking a day off work and borrowing your friends’ car is the move, aiming to go while the place is empty.

It’s still going to be a bit of work moving stuff from the apartment down to the car and your friends can’t take the day off to help. As much as you feel uncertain about it, you might ask Toji for help, he offered after all.

By the time you’re finally heading back to that apartment complex it’s been a few days, not having felt ready enough to come back any sooner. It’s funny how everything about the building is the same and yet you feel so different about it all now, it doesn’t feel like home anymore. There’s no warmth here, just another cold place that one day you’ll pass and not feel a tug in your heart over.

Nerves run through you as you stand in front of Toji’s door, uncertainty sitting heavy in your chest. Maybe he wasn’t genuinely offering, or what if he’s busy, or what if he’s not even home. You’re stupid, you didn’t even consider that he might not be home today, feeling flustered you ultimately don’t knock on his door.

Entering your now old apartment feels odd, most of your stuff is still here but you feel detached from the place. Amazing how a few days can change your outlook so drastically. Thankfully it doesn’t look like he touched any of your things, though you never really had all that much to begin with.

It was his apartment first and a lot of the furniture is his or was bought by the two of you together. Aside from the bed but that’s just because he didn’t want to pay for a new one. If you’re being honest, it never even felt like your place. You lived here and you called it home, but it doesn’t look lived in by you. After a while you stopped trying to buy trinkets and decorations for the place, he never seemed to like them. Always leaving you feeling like it was his place first and a shared home second.

You guess, at some point, it stopped being noticeable but as you stand here now and look through your belongings, you’re realising you really do not have all that much. Whatever you take will hardly make a dent in the large ocean of his belongings, poetic in a way. You’re a small part of him but he was a large part of you.

Grimacing at your own thoughts you move on, not wanting to start feeling those emotions in fear of crying. Instead sourcing the boxes you kept from your initial move in, you tape them back into shape. It’s been so long they look weak and old; time has not been kind to either of you it seems.

On your trips back and forth from the apartment to the car, you pointedly ignore Toji’s door, not wanting to linger on thoughts of him either. It embarrassing that you told a stranger that much about your life and then was willing to have him help you move out. Though he had big arms… he’d probably be really helpful.

This whole thing is taking longer than you thought it would, your arms growing tired from each trip. As you look at one of the few boxes you have left, you wonder if it’s even worth it. Most of what’s in these are clothes or the few decorative trinkets you own.

No, he doesn’t get to keep any part of you. Not the parts that were solely you anyways, he can keep those fucking sheets. Picking up the box, you trudge out the door for what feels like the billionth time. Not able to help the frustration in your steps as you stomp out into the hallway.

Just as you’re about to pass by Toji’s door, your box splits underneath and your things spill out. Thankfully it only really has some clothes in it, but you clearly overfilled it, too heavy for the poor old cardboard. Letting it drop to the floor; all you can do is look at the pile of clothes.

A deep sigh pulls from your lungs and your eyes brim with tears, you’ve yet to cry about this all but your box breaking feels like the last straw. Fighting your tears off desperately and failing as they drip down your cheeks.

Your voice is small when you mumble a tiny, “I hate everything.”

A hand on your shoulder makes you jump, apparently out of it enough to not hear someone leave their apartment and approach you. Maybe you shouldn’t be surprised when you look and see Toji, but you are, feeling a little confused at the small amount of relief that runs through you at seeing him.

His tone is careful when he asks, “You okay, doll?” Like he’s actually worried about you.

And maybe it’s because he’s the first person to properly ask you that, or because his hand is warm and large against your shoulder or maybe it’s just because he’s here, you move to hug him. Realising now just how alone you feel, desiring comfort from him.

He doesn’t push you back, instead he wraps his arms around you and lets you soak a portion of his shirt in your tears. A kindness you don’t think you’d expect from someone who looks – or quite frankly – acts like him.

Mumbling in his shirt, “Sorry…” Before pulling back, “I���m okay… sorry.”

“You apologised twice,” he notes.

“Sorry…”

An amused look on his face at your third apology, his thumb reaching up to wipe at the tear on your cheek before speaking again, “Your box broke.”

“I know, it made me cry.”

“Don’t cry over spilt clothes.”

Somehow that poor joke has you cracking a small smile, “Very wise of you.”

“I’m full of that shit,” he moves for your box, letting all the clothes spill onto the floor, “Wisdom.”

“You sure you’re not just full of shit?”

“Ah there’s the girl I met the other night,” Flipping the box upside down, he scoops up your clothes and shoves them inside again.

Realising he’s picking up after you, you tell him, “I can do that.”

“I’m sure you can,” he picks up the box easily, resting it over one forearm as he moves for his apartment door.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re taking my stuff?”

“Finders keepers,” his tone even.

“Hey?!” You call after him, following him into his apartment.

It’s a mirror image of yours, furnishing a bit boring but befitting of what you assume is a single man. Toji drops the box of your clothes onto the floor by the front door, pushing it off to the side.

His words interrupt your snooping from afar, “How many more boxes you got?”

“Uh, only a couple,” you blink up at him, still lost on what’s he’s doing.

He hums at you, “Come on.”

“What?” You’re then following him back out of his apartment and over to yours, he walks in like he’s been invited. Flustered and confused as you hurry along behind him, “Toji, what are you doing?”

“You used my name,” you can hear the smile in his voice, “Almost made me blush, doll,” he teases back at you.

Purposefully not indulging his flirting, “Shut up, why are we over here?”

“Grabbing the rest of your shit, put it at my place before that dick gets home,” he stacks the last two boxes on top of each other, smaller than the box that had your clothes in it. Picking them up with ease, he walks past you, “Could ya get the door for me?”

Mindlessly, you open the door. Why is he doing this for you? “Toji–”

“Do a once over and check you got everything,” he nods back at you, “Don’t take too long though, he gets home from work soon.”

He walks off before you can say anything, so you decide to do what he said. Checking the apartment all over to make sure you got everything you wanted, you were right earlier, your stuff barely made a dent. When you’re satisfied you’ve got everything, you go to walk out the front door, pausing at a note taped to the wall by it.

Not noticing it with your view being obscured by large boxes every time you walked by it, that and you’ve been a bit distracted all day. It’s obviously written by your ex, you’re half tempted to just ignore it but you’re nosy and want to know what he’s said.

It reads a simple: ‘please don’t leave me, it was a mistake. I love you’. Underwhelming to say the least, it doesn’t even move you. If anything, you feel pissed the fuck off. How dare he spit a bunch of bullshit, you’re not stupid, the day you caught them was certainly not the first time they’d fucked here. It was written all over that woman’s face, she was smug, like she’d finally got what she’d wanted by you finding out.

For a quiet moment, you consider writing something back to him, or burning the note, or even just ripping it up. But you’re choosing to leave it there, maybe he’ll wonder if you saw it and maybe he’ll always be unsatisfied as to whether or not you’d have stayed if you had. Maybe he doesn’t deserve closure, maybe he deserves nothing more of you.

You’re getting bored thinking about him, this relationship had already been on its way out, you just didn’t have the guts to leave him for seemingly no reason. Pretending like you didn’t see his shitty note, you lock up the place and take the key off your key chain. Slipping it under the door before walking over to Toji’s.

Looking at his door, you consider if you should knock or walk in. It feels wrong to enter someone’s home unannounced though, even if they did kind of hijack some of your belongings and stash them in their house. Feeling too uncomfortable to simply walk in, you knock, waiting patiently for him to open it.

When he opens the door he leans against the frame of it with his forearm, “I left it open for ya.”

“It’s rude to enter without an invitation,” you say obviously.

He points out, “Didn’t stop ya earlier.”

“You stole my clothes!” You defend.

A chuckle leaves him, “Get in,” he holds the door wider for you.

Pausing, you check first, “You’re not gonna kill me or something are you?”

“A sweet lil’ thing like you?” His smile is big and flirtatious, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of yourself,” rolling your eyes as you walk past him and into his apartment.

The door swings closed behind you, Toji watching you shuck of your shoes, “Nope.”

Standing up and turning back to him, you mumble a small, “Thanks for helping me… and sorry… for crying on you.”

He pouts at you in thought, a hum leaving as an acknowledgment of what you’ve said. “You want some tea?”

You’re taken aback by his sudden offer, “Oh… uh… sure, that’d be nice.”

“Sit wherever,” he waves his hand around aimlessly at the few seating options he has.

Cautiously, you navigate around his apartment, unsure of yourself in here. You’ve only just met him and he’s being so kind, the fact he’s a stranger a more obvious fact when you’re in his home. You hesitate for a moment before taking a seat on his couch, gazing out the window while he clanks around in the kitchen.

Finding yourself wishing you’d put more effort into knowing him, he seems kind, though with how he flirts with you it’s probably better you didn’t. His footsteps are padded as they approach you, his slippers dragging against the floorboards. The tea he’s made for you is placed on the coffee table across from you, along with another he’d made for himself.

With no grace, he flops down beside you, his head leaning back against the couch. He doesn’t seem to have very good manners, his frame spread wide, sitting closer to you than most people probably would.

After a moment, he comments, “All the furniture was still in that place.”

You guess he’s referring to your apartment, “Yeah…”

“Gonna have an empty new apartment.”

“Yeah,” you reach for your tea, “It’ll all be me though.”

His head turns to look at you, “I’d like to see it.”

You smile into your mug, “You trying to say you wanna see my new place when I move in?”

“I think I should be the first person to see it.”

Taking a quick sip, you place the mug back down on the table, still a bit too hot, “And why should you get such a high honour?”

“Because you ruined my shirt by crying into it–”

“I did not ruin your–”

“And because you’ll need someone to help with all your new and big furniture,” he smiles at you like he knows he’s right, all smug and attractive.

Being serious for a moment, you enquire, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Isn’t it obvious,” you shake your head at him and his smile grows, “I’m hoping to get into your pants.”

Your face pulls up at him and you push him away by his shoulder, “You’re pathetic.”

“Yeah, but you’re hot and single,” he barely moves at your pushing.

You continue to frown at him, “You have to help with my furniture now, after being so lecherous.”

You’re only joking but he answers as if you weren’t, “Whatever you say, doll,” he smiles arrogantly, like he knows he’s won you over, even if it’s just a little bit.

✮.

The new place is nice, smaller than your last but it’s a good size for you. It’s only been a few days since you moved in though, so your ‘bed’ has been a mattress on the floor and your living room has a sad looking bean bag instead of a proper couch. It’s strikingly bare in here but it’s all yours and you get to decorate to your hearts content, you just wish you had the funds to buy to your hearts content.

Your first big purchase has been a bed frame, deeming it the most necessary. A couch will probably go second and then a place for eating and a desk and… there is so much more furniture you need. Things that can all wait, nothing will bring down your mood. You’re feeling good, your bed frame came today and you’re going to put it together and have the best sleep ever tonight.

…

Premature optimism will be your downfall, you felt pretty good about assembling this altogether yourself. But now after having tried to put this stupid bedframe together for an hour or maybe more all the confidence you had in yourself has been drained. Sitting on the floor of your bedroom, instructions and bits of your bed in front of you, mattress pushed up against the wall and out the way, you have been defeated.

Happy thoughts, all happy thoughts, you can have it together before it’s time for bed… surely… Maybe this is more of a two-person job, you should’ve asked for help. Checking the time you see it’s late afternoon, is it too late in the day to call Toji and ask for his help. You ponder on it for a second before deciding you’re calling him; you want to sleep in an actual bed tonight. Plus, if you don’t get it together tonight, you’ll be sleeping on the mattress out in the living room and that just feels wrong.

The line only rings a couple times before he’s picking up, “Was wondering how long it’d take ya to call me, doll.”

“Don’t be smug, it makes it harder for me to ask for your help,” you roll your eyes despite him not being able to see you.

It’s scary how accurate he is in asking, “Taking me up on my offer to help with your furniture?”

“Is the offer still good?”

“For you?” he hums, “Always.”

He may be the biggest flirt you’ve ever met, “Then yes… I’d like your help, please.”

His smile can be heard down the line, “Those are nice manners you got there.”

“Shut up, just get here,” you hang up on him and text your address, he’s going to tease you plenty when he gets here, you don’t need sneak previews.

Though you are thankful you have his number, having already exchanged short messages back and forth. Sometimes you’ve even talked on the phone with him, you get a bit lonely and it’s nice to be able to call him. He’s not overly talkative but he will listen to you carry on about nothing and you like that in a man. Embarrassingly though, you tend to bring up just about anything so you can keep talking to him for a bit longer.

By the time Toji is in your apartment, you’re feeling down, having tried for a bit after the call to try and assemble it at least a little bit before he got here and failing. The pair of you look at the mess on the floor of your bedroom, his hands on his hips as his brow quirks at the sight. You feel small next to him, humiliated by just how badly you’ve done.

His head turns to the side, “Doll… what the hell am I looking at?”

“My new bed,” you pout back at him.

“You sure?” He double checks.

You’re glaring at him, “Yes. I’m sure.”

His head shakes at you, “Should’ve just called me from the beginning.”

“Well maybe I thought I could do it myself.”

“And look how that turned out.”

You whine at him, “You said you were gonna help.”

“And I will,” he places a hand on top of your head, leaning down, “I just gotta mock you first.”

“Is it out of your system yet?”

A beat before, “Probably not.”

Ignoring him, you offer, “Do you want a drink?”

He pats your head a couple times, “Quite the little host, aren’t ya?”

Your answer is dry, “No drink for you, got it.”

A laugh leaves him at your quickness, clearly enjoying the back and forth the two of you have. “Alright I’ll have your bed together quick; I don’t even know how you managed to fuck it up this bad.”

“Unnecessarily cruel,” you note.

Throwing a smile at you, he reaches for the instructions and glances over them for a moment before letting them float down to the ground. He’s clearly confident in his ability to put the bed together.

And to be fair, he had good reason to be confident. He gets it all assembled easily, barely needing your help save for a few moments where you had to hold something. Mostly, you felt like you were just there to watch him, and you found yourself not minding at all, he looked good.

As the mattress slides into place on the new frame, he gives you a helping hand in making the bed. Putting all the appropriate linens back on, including fresh sheets. It’s beautiful, all ready for you to sleep in, to think you almost cried about this a couple hours ago. The frame itself is nothing special but you’re feeling so much joy over something so simple.

“Thank you so much, Toji,” if it were physically possible, you’d have hearts in your eyes right now.

“More than welcome, doll,” he winks at you, “Want help breaking it in?”

“Okay.”

“What?” He asks again, like he’s not sure he heard you right.

“Okay, you can help me break it in,” when he doesn’t move, you ask, “Toji?”

“Hold on, I wasn’t expecting to get this far.”

You laugh airily, his surprise cute. As much as you were serious, you don’t want to put pressure on him. Moving to walk past and offering, “Do you wanna eat instead? I can order something; I don’t think I have enough in my fridge to cook–”

Your sentence is cut off by his hand on your upper arm, suddenly being pulled into him. “Now hold on, I’m not passing on this opportunity.”

“You sure? You seemed to get a bit nervous for a second there,” you tease.

“Was taken by surprise is all,” he grins.

“Are you really sure, because–”

He’s cutting you off again, his lips on yours, breathing against you, “–You talk too damn much.”

“That’s just–”

You don’t get to finish; he’s kissing you again. It’s insistent and messy, like he’s been wanting to kiss you for too long. His tongue licking into your mouth, pulling a whine from you at how his hands grope at your hips. Looping your arms around his neck, you pull yourself up into him, craving more of him.

He’s large and warm, so sturdy as you hang off him. Such a good kisser, lips slotting against yours perfectly. The way he’s making out with you has shivers running down your spine, finding yourself obsessing over his lips. You don’t want to part from him, drunk on him and the messy way he’s kissing you.

A hand leaves your hip and grabs the side of your face, his thumb pulls on your chin, getting you to open your mouth more. He wants to kiss you deeper, he wants to kiss you so you never forget what it’s like to be kissed by him. Leading you back, he walks you both to the bed until your legs are knocking on it and then he pushes you down onto it.

“You know,” his smile is suggestive, “I think I am hungry.”

It takes you an embarrassing amount of time to understand what he means, it’s not until his hands are at the waistband of your pants are you catching on, “Oh!” You’re feeling flustered, “I– you don’t– if you want–”

“–Oh, I want,” He returns quickly. “Do you?”

“Yes…” Your voice comes out smaller than you intended.

He can’t help but snicker at how you’re suddenly so much more shy, “Where’d your sharp tongue go, doll?”

“Shuddup Toji,” you snark back.

The breath that leaves him is amused, his hands pulling your pants and panties off in one go. And then he’s a little breathless because you’re so wet and pretty, his hands are keeping you spread apart.

“Keep ya fuckin’ legs open, doll,” he grunts, “Don’t deprive me of the view.”

“How can you be so– hah–”

He drops to his knees and blows cool air onto your clit, interrupting your comment in favour of a small gasp. Enjoying the way you twitch slightly at the action, “What were you saying?”

“F–Fuck you,” you curse at him.

“You’ll get the chance, don’t worry.”

Not able to hold himself back any longer, he’s putting his mouth on your cunt. His tongue spreading your folds, licking from your hole to your clit and back down again, repeating the motions over and over. No real purpose behind his actions, just enjoying the taste of you on his tongue, relishing in the sounds he manages to pull from you. Essentially making out with your pussy, reverential in his actions.

You try grinding down into him, to guide him where you want but he’s too happy to torture you, his arms hold you open and pin you still. Barely able to rut down into him with how his arms are around your legs.

“Toji,” you whine at him, wanting more.

He ignores your call to him, too involved in how he’s lapping at your cunt, making a mess. Though finally switching things up in a show of pity, his tongue slides inside your hole, fucking you with it. Your chest stutters with your breaths and your legs fight his arms, wanting to close around his head. It doesn’t work, he’s so strong and you feel so weak with how he’s turning you into a puddle.

This may be his new obsession, making out with your pussy and refusing to let you get what you want. Your pathetic whines and fruitless struggle against his grip amuses him just about as much as it turns him on. He rubs his nose purposefully into your clit, the moan you let out is shocked and cute. The way your cunt flutters around his tongue has his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

You’re really going to let him fuck you and that thought alone makes him feel giddy. Parting from you in a messy display, string of his saliva connecting him to your wet pussy, “You wanna cum, doll?”

Blankly, you nod back at him.

He smiles evil, “Ask.”

“Toji…”

“You wanna cum or not?”

“Make me cum…” You look at him and it has your heart leaping, his face slick with you, eyes glazed, “…please.”

“‘Atta girl,” he says like he’s proud of you.

All to happily, he puts his mouth back on you. Tongue fucking you with more purpose, nose pressed into your clit. The sounds of him eating you sloppy and obscene, not that you can find it in yourself to give a single fuck. Your high approaching so much quicker now that he actually intends on letting you cum, back arching off the bed as you get closer and closer.

So badly you want to rock down onto him, you want to grind on his pretty face, but he still holds you tight. He’s so mean to you, shouldn’t he want to make a good impression. Then again, he’s making you feel so good right now, orgasm so fucking close and then he does something devious. His finger slips inside your hole, alongside his tongue, never stopping and barely giving you a chance to acknowledge it.

It feels good and you feel the slightest bit fuller and you’re cumming, so unexpected to you that you’re blindsided as you twitch and cum all over his finger and tongue. Toji groans into you, drinking down your creamy slick. Your hearing is dull and you’re involuntarily twitching in his grip, soft whines dying down as you calm.

He keeps licking at you, you’re not able to tell if he’s cleaning up or adding to the mess between your legs but with the way he’s drooling on your pussy you’d have to guess the latter. Your thighs still shake in his grip, he’s going to force you into overstimulation, that or he’s going to have you cumming again.

Reaching down, you pull at his hair, “Too sensitive.”

“Couldn’t help myself, sorry doll,” he smiles lazily at you.

Your hand drops from his hair, he’s so beautiful, all pussy drunk and horny. “Is okay.”

While he waits for your breathing to start evening out, he licks and bites at your thighs, leaving behind so many marks that you will no doubt be embarrassed about tomorrow. Right now though, you can’t be bothered to move away or try and stop him. Jerking every now and again when his teeth nip at an especially soft spot on your thigh.

When you’ve calmed down, he stands up, undressing in front of you, not minding in the slightest the way you stare at him. His dick bobs under the weight of it, all heavy and leaky, precum dripping from his tip down the length of himself. Your thighs rub together at the sight of his incredibly hard cock, caught between worried about taking him and desperate to be fucked open on him.

“Your shirt,” he points at your chest, “Off.”

Pushing yourself up, you go to take off your shirt but before you can Toji’s tugging it off himself. “Someone’s eager,” you tease.

“‘Course I am,” his hands are quick to grope at your tits, “I get to open your little pussy up on my cock, what’s not to be eager about.” He smirks, fingers pinching your nipples.

“Are you always such a relentless tease?”

“Did you expect anything less?”

“Stop– hah– stop playing with my tits,” your scold has less of an effect when you’re pushing into him and fighting off moans.

He hums at you but pulls his hands back, “Shuffle back.”

Doing as he says, you move back on the bed, sitting more centred on it. He crawls onto the bed, pushing you back onto the mattress with a hand on your shoulder. Quick to open your legs again, hooking under your knees with both hands to push back on your legs. His eyes greedy as he watches your cunt closely, grinning when you clench around nothing.

“Toji, stop being a dick.”

“You want this dick, doll,” he returns, glancing at you, “Should ask real nice for it.”

You return a sharp, “Maybe you should ask real nice to fuck my pussy.”

“You got words now, but I doubt that’ll stay the same when I’m balls deep in you,” he grips his cock and rubs his tip between your folds.

“You gotta ask, Toji,” you remind.

Without an ounce of shame, he asks, “Please, let me fuck your pretty pussy, doll. Wanna feel the way she grips me tight when I fuck her open, want her creaming on me, wanna make a real fuckin’ mess.”

“I hate you,” you huff, annoyed that his words turned you on so much.

“She doesn’t feel the same as you,” he notes, humming at how your slick drips down and coats the tip of his dick.

Whining at him, “Toji, stop being such a– hah– insufferable tease.”

“You haven’t asked yet, doll,” the tip of his cock almost pushes inside you before he moves back.

An unsatisfied breath leaving you, almost having got what you wanted, “I thought you wanted to fuck me?”

“I do, bad,” he agrees easily, “What I want more than that though…” leaning down to talk next to your ear, “Is to hear you fuckin’ beg for it…”

Sadly, your resolve is weak, and you break easily, “Please, Toji. Please fuck me, anything, just stop teasing, please.” When he doesn’t move at your pleads, you add another small, “Please.”

Breathless huff leaving him at how quickly you gave in, he wonders how you’d hold up if he weren’t being so impatient himself. Working you up over and over only to deny you pleasure at the last second, making you cry and beg for his dick. The thoughts have his cock twitching, loving the idea of your wet eyes. He’ll just have to make you cry another way.

“What kind of a man would I be if I said no after you begged so nicely?” He asks rhetorically.

Despite his tone, you answer, “A mean one.”

Barking a laugh at your reply, “Never claimed to be nice, doll.” He delights in the way your eyes grow large, worried he’s going to deprive you more and maybe if he weren’t so fucking horny he would but he can’t bring himself to. “Don’t look so worried,” he coos.

Pulling back, he waits for you to open your mouth to talk before pushing the tip of his cock into you. Your face twisting in surprise, mouth dropping open but no words coming. His breathing stutters at the tight grip of your cunt, not quite expecting you to feel so fucking good around only this much of him.

He looks down to your pussy, watching how he’s slowly sinking into you, “Don’t know h– hah– how gentle I’m gonna be, doll.”

You mumble back at him, already out of it, “Ruin me.”

A shudder runs through him at that, just about cumming in you from your small request alone, “You’re a fuckin’ dream.” He keeps sliding inside you, rocking slightly, not able to help himself when you feel this good, “If ya need me to stop, fuckin’ slap me or something.”

“Won’t want you to– hnn– stop,” you gasp back.

“If you do though,” he insists.

Nodding firmly at him, like you want him to just shut up now, “I’ll– hah– slap y–you, got it.”

“Impatient little thing, aren’t ya?”

Though he’s not much better than you, especially when he’s finally balls deep, mouth salivating as his eyes almost roll to the back of his head. Only fighting the urge so he can see your face and watch how your eyes glaze over. A sight he doesn’t regret waiting for, his dick throbbing at the cute expression you’re wearing, your cunt fucked open and full by him, your brain having trouble doing its job.

Already so cock drunk that you can’t get your bearings enough to talk, he can tell you want to though, can see the way you’re fighting yourself. He’s surprised when you grind into him, against his pelvis. Clearly unable to find the words to ask him nicely to start moving, he groans at your shamelessness, enjoying you like this. You’re greedy and he likes that.

“Cute,” he murmurs, watching your pussy bulge around his dick.

Taking a deep breath, you moan out his name. All pitched and ruined, “Toji.”

“I got ya, doll.”

He pulls back slowly, his cock dragging deliciously against your walls. Your back arches as you moan, already trying to grind back into him. Toji bites his lip at the unabashed display, so willing to be openly needy when you’re this worked up. Not even a little bit shy when you whimper and try fucking up onto him.

Giving you what you want, he thrusts harshly back into you, picking up a diabolic pace. The sloppy sounds of him fucking your tight cunt filling the room, lewd mess spilling from your hole onto your fresh duvet every time he pulls back out. A fact you’d surely be bothered by if your eyes weren’t rolling, and your head wasn’t going fuzzy at how he’s fucking you. Managing to rub up against every single perfect spot inside you, your toes curling and legs shaking.

Cruelly, Toji grabs under your legs, pushing them up and back. Leaning into the movement with his weight, folding you in half. The angle new and breathtaking as he drills down relentlessly into you. If you weren’t cock drunk before you sure as fuck are now, your moans loud, the chanting of his name slurred and barely comprehensible.

“Fuck– how are you so–” Toji’s dick spasms inside you, you’re so unbelievably wet around him. Creamy pussy making an obscene mess on him, “Feel so– hnn– fuckin’ good, doll.”

You shake your head at him, “I– ah!– can’t fff–” you give up half way through, unable to say what you wanted.

He chuckles at your inability to form a coherent sentence, heart leaping at the realisation your eyes are brimming with tears. Sitting so pretty on your lash line, adding to the glassy look in your eyes. Moans slip from him when you shed a few tears, somehow, he’s folding you even more in half. The mating press mean and firm, not willing to give you a chance to change anything about how he’s fucking you.

It’s mind numbing how he’s thrusting into you, not realising how you’re drooling over it. Pussy throbbing at the way he slides into you, the feeling of being so full and split open the only thing on your mind. It can’t feel this good, why does it feel this good? The kind of sex that has you forgetting you’ve ever had sex before. Getting dicked down so good that you can’t even think of ever wanting anything but this.

Toji notices how drunk on him you are, “Hah– Good, doll?”

“Ah huh,” you nod deliriously at him, it’s all you’re really capable of.

Skin slapping against skin fills the room, his brutal thrusts echoing throughout your barely furnished apartment. His ego growing tenfold by the stupid look on your face, your pussy leaving a creamy white ring around the base of his cock driving him insane. Fucking you is messy, and he can’t help the fact that he’s obsessed with that. Loving the way you still try to grind up into him. Failing every time with the way he’s folded you, so needy for more that it’s adorable.

You’re hot and wet and so so snug that he feels like he’s dreaming, hooked on the way your pussy sucks him right back in as soon as he’s pulling out. Taking him so well despite the way you’re struggling to fit all of him, not that you mind, so blissed out and greedy that all you do is moan and pull at the sheets.

Cheeks tear stained at this point, orgasm so close if your stuttered breaths and shaking thighs are anything to go by. He keeps his thrusts the same, not changing anything about the way he’s fucking into you harshly, building you up so quickly that you’re dizzy.

Your back arches up into him, your tits presented to him so enticingly that he feels disappointed he can’t put his mouth on them right now.

“You’re s–so cute, doll,” he compliments, “Fuck– so greedy.”

His deep voice and crude praise send you over the edge, cunt clamping down so tight around him that he struggles to fuck you through your orgasm. Cumming around him so divinely that he couldn’t stop the moans tumbling from his lips even if he thought to. The sounds he makes stick inside your head, brain foggy as you cum but distinctly picking up on the moans he lets out. Pretty and arousing, you wish he had made more sounds for you.

Even as you come down, he keeps fucking you, fervent and desperate as he pummels into you over and over. New headboard slamming into the wall loudly as he fucks you, probably has been the whole time and you’re only just now registering it. Your eyes are bleary from the tears you’ve spilt, you want to rock down into him, wanting him to finish inside you so badly that it’s a feral kind of need clawing at your insides.

It’s insane how good he looks while he fucks into you, his lips parted slightly as he watches the way he stuffs his cock back into you over and over. Abs tense with his movements, eyes lazy and blown out, body sweaty from the exertion of holding you in a mating press while fucking you diabolically. His tongue runs along his lower lip, and you involuntarily clench around him, making him moan weakly, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

Glancing up at you, his eyes look wild, “You’re so adorable when you’re crying for me.”

“Toji,” It’s pathetic and pouted back at him, mind too broken to say much else.

He groans at you, “Ohh fuck!–”

The way your lower lip wobbles so pitifully when whining his name has him blowing his load, not even expecting it himself as he cums deeps inside you. When he realises, he slams his hips to yours, wanting it so deep inside that you’ll feel him for days after. His pelvis grinds into you and you practically purr at it, the stimulation against your clit has your cunt fluttering around him.

He's so sensitive he nearly whimpers at how perfect you feel around him, unwilling to move immediately, truly too obsessed with how you feel around him. The only thing prompting him to pull back being the uncomfortable way he’s folded you in half, lifting his weight off you, he allows your legs to drop.

Eyes locked onto your pussy when he pulls out, watching the way his cum leaks from your hole and down onto your bed, adding to the mess already there from the sloppy way he’s fucked you. Compelled by greed and his horny brain, he uses his fingers to scoop up his seed and push it back into you. Fingers pushing into your cunt and relishing in the way you jump at the intrusion.

“Don’t want it going to waste now do we, doll?”

“You’re a– hah– freak,” you whine at him.

“You fuckin’ like it,” he slips his two fingers deep inside and curls them, “Bet if I hadn’t pinned you, you’d be a little freak yourself.”

Your hips grind down into his hand, apparently insatiable and willing to cum for him for the third time tonight. Needy all over again that it’s almost embarrassing how willing to be fucked by his fingers you are. If Toji didn’t seem so keen to give you what you wanted you’d probably feel ashamed of how you twitch down onto his digits soaked in a mix of both your cum.

You gasp at him, “It’s– ah!– too much.”

“See…” he grins, “…You say that, but you’re rutting down into me so needily that I’m not sure I believe you.”

He enjoys the way your overstimulated body jerks at his touch, cunt swallowing his fingers happily. The sight of your overfilled pussy trying to push his cum out only for his fingers to shove it back in making his chest vibrate with groans. His thumb rubs into your clit and you whine pathetically at him, your hand clamping over your mouth as your toes curl.

So soon after your last orgasm that you’re finishing with barely any work from him, your walls gripping him as you whimper into your palm. Thighs trembling from the force of it, you can’t even hear anything, gaze so bleary that you’re unable to see for a few moments. Toji doesn’t stop moving his hand until you go limp on the bed, your breaths heaved as you struggle to collect yourself.

When he groans, you open your eyes to watch the way he sucks on his fingers. Cleaning them of the lewd mess from the both of you, he’s smug when he sees the way he’s flustered you with his actions.

“You’re so gross,” you whinge at him.

He only laughs as he gets off the bed and ransacks your apartment for something to wipe the pair of you down with. Touch gentle as he wipes between your legs with the cloth he’s found. Despite how careful he is with you, you flinch, so sensitive that you feel like you might break.

Once he’s cleaned you enough, he flops down beside you and pulls you to him, “Think we broke it in enough?”

You consider, “I don’t know… we might have to do that all again.”

“Because the beds not broken in or because you wanna get dicked down again?”

“Just wanna see if it’s like that every time.”

“It’ll be better,” he speaks low, “I went easy on you.”

A shiver runs down your spine, taking him for his word, “Then… next time?”

“Next time,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head, “I’m taking you out on a date first.” Not able to leave it as a nice moment, he adds, “And then I’m taking you back to my place to make you properly beg for it.”

“You’re gonna kill me.”

“Maybe but it’ll feel real good,” he chuckles.

You roll your eyes at him, “Fine but you gotta help with all the rest of my furniture.”

“Doll, with the state of your bed before I came over, I almost feel obligated to,” smooth in how he says, “I don’t wanna be visiting such a sad apartment all the time.”

He’s as presumptuous as ever but you don’t feel the need to point that out to him, since he’s right and all.

𝐀/𝐍: this was supposed to be up before christmas but then i had to do things to prep for it UGH... as per usual this fic was only meant to be like... 5k maybe a little less and i got carried away hehe. anyways,, happy holidays all !!! i hope you enjoy !!! <3

[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision

[porterdavis]

I'm going to post the entire dispatch in hopes more people will read it. It's a stylized version of how US media would cover events in America if they were happening in a foreign country. Chilling.

(Written by Garrett Graff)

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Musk Junta Seizes Key Governmental Offices February 1, 2025 By William Boot

WASHINGTON, D.C. — What started Thursday as a political purge of the internal security services accelerated Friday into a full-blown coup, as elite technical units aligned with media oligarch Elon Musk moved to seize key systems at the national treasury, block outside access to federal personnel records, and take offline governmental communication networks.

With rapidity that has stunned even longtime political observers, forces loyal to Musk’s junta have established him as the all-but undisputed unelected head of government in just a matter of days, unwinding the longtime democracy’s constitutional system and its proud nearly 250-year-old tradition of the rule of law. Having secured themselves in key ministries and in a building adjacent to the presidential office complex, Musk’s forces have begun issuing directives to civil service workers and forcing the resignation of officials deemed insufficiently loyal, like the head of the country’s aviation authority.

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The G-7 country’s newly installed president, a mid-level oligarch named Donald Trump, appeared amid Musk’s moves to be increasingly merely a figurehead head of state. Trump is a convicted felon with a long record of family corruption and returned in power in late January after a four-year interlude promising retribution and retaliation against foreign opponents and a domestic “Deep State.” He had been charged with attempting to overthrow the peaceful transition of power that had previously removed him from office in 2021, but loyalist elements in the judiciary successfully blocked his prosecution and incarceration, easing his return to power.

Over the last two weeks, loyalist presidential factions and Musk-backed teams have launched sweeping, illegal Stalin-esque purges of the national police forces and prosecutors, as well as offices known as inspectors-general, who are typically responsible for investigating government corruption. While official numbers of the unprecedented ousters were kept secret, rumors swirled in the capital that the scores of career officials affected by the initial purges could rise into the thousands as political commissars continued to assess the backgrounds of members of the police forces. 

The mentally declining and aging head of state, who has long embraced conspiracist thinking, spent much of the week railing in bizarre public remarks against the country’s oppressed racial and ethnic minorities, whom he blamed without evidence for causing a deadly plane crash across the river from the presidential mansion. Unfounded racist attacks on those minorities have been a key foundation of Trump’s unpredicted rise to political power from a career as a real estate magnate and reality TV host and date back to his first announcement that he would seek the presidency in 2015, when he railed against “rapists” being sent into the country from its southern neighbor.

In one of his first moves upon returning to the presidency, he mobilized far-right paramilitary security forces to begin raids at churches, schools, and workplaces to identify and remove racial minorities, including those who had long lived in harmony with the country’s white Christian majority. He also immediately moved to release from prison some 1,500 supporters who had participated in his unsuccessful 2021 insurrection, including members of violent far-right militias who promptly upon release swore fealty to him in any future civil unrest. Elsewhere, even as he released violent criminals onto the streets, Trump by fiat pulled longstanding government security protection from former military and health officials he felt had betrayed him.

Underscoring his apparent disconnection from reality, reports surfaced that the president had ordered military forces to unleash an environmental catastrophe and flood regions of a separatist province known as California that is led by a high-profile political opponent. The order underscored how the military, which had resisted Trump’s unconstitutional power grabs in his first administration, was now led by a subservient defense minister, a favored TV personality with no experience in management who faced an embarrassing series of allegations about his drunken behavior in the workplace.

Foreign allies who had long aligned themselves with the United States on the international stage were unsettled by increasingly destabilizing nationalistic and imperialist rhetoric coming from the president’s social media accounts—largely posted to a network owned and run by Trump himself—and worried in private conversations in capital embassies that he would mobilize the compliant military to fulfill heretofore unimaginable territorial ambitions that included seizing the country’s northern neighbor, which shares the world’s longest undefended border, and potentially colonizing Panama and Greenland.

Both the country’s defense minister, who has previously said he does not believe women should be allowed to serve in combat roles, and Trump’s new interior minister, who appeared on national TV wearing the paramilitary uniform of the border security force central to Trump’s political rise, spent much of their first days echoing and amplifying the president’s hysteria about racial and ethnic minorities. They and other government officials also immediately canceled all official observances of religious and ethnic minority holidays and launched efforts to scrub official websites and prohibit educating workers or schoolchildren about those minorities’ long, proud history in the country. Overnight Friday, hours after journalists had gone home, the defense minister’s office announced it would bar establishment independent media outlets from working out of the country’s military headquarters and replace them with friendly right-wing media organs.

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The administration’s propaganda minister also announced Friday, apparently with little preparation, that it would initiate an immediate, unexpected, and seemingly ill-considered trade war with the country’s two primary economic partners, a move that if implemented would upend the national economy, disrupt supply chains, and accelerate the return of an inflationary crisis that has roiled domestic politics over the last five years and had just seemed to be returning to normal. Ironically, it was that very inflationary crisis and Trump’s promises on the campaign trail to lower the price of eggs that paved the way for his unforeseen election victory in November.

The country’s other business oligarchs have watched Musk’s unexpected and rapid rise to power with trepidation, and leading media and technology companies who compete with Musk’s extensive business empire—like Meta, Amazon, Disney, Paramount, Apple, and OpenAI—have quickly lined up to negotiate and pay bribes to the president that would allow their companies to operate unimpeded; initial payment terms ranged from million-dollar gifts to the presidential inauguration to $15 million and $25 million payments, made by Disney and Meta, to fund the construction of a presidential shrine. The highest known payment was $40 million from Amazon, which was structured as a gift to the president’s wife in exchange for the media company having the opportunity to film a hagiographic biopic.

It was unclear, exactly, what deal terms any of those bribes and payments unlocked and when subsequent tribute payments would be expected, although on Saturday Trump moved to fire and neuter government watchdogs that had long bedeviled the country’s financial elite.

Throughout the week’s fast-moving seizure of power—one that seems increasingly irreversible by the hour—neither loyalist nor opposition parliamentary leaders raised meaningful objection to the new regime or the unraveling of the country’s constitutional system of checks and balances. A few members of the geriatric legislature body offered scattered social media posts condemning the move, but parliament — where both houses are controlled by so-called “MAGA” members handpicked for their loyalty to the president — went home early for the weekend even as Musk’s forces spread through the capital streets.

It was unclear what role, if any, Musk’s forces would allow parliament to have in the new governmental structure by the time it next returned to the national assembly known as Capitol Hill.

[iqxatlantic]

"what the hell were we? tell me weren't just friends!"

ft. michael kaiser . asshole! kaiser . ooc! kaiser ? . fem! reader . reader going thru a bum situationship . kaiser doesnt help lol . toxic fwb situation . breeding ? . seeeex . unreliable narrator . smut . smut after the cut bware!

synopsis: being extremely pissed off with this one guy you're talking with — you complained to a close friend of yours, kaiser. pushing your luck with the relationship you two had, you asked him to come over. y'know maybe for comfort or something, right? the night for sure took a shift in direction. have you forgotten? you n kaiser had a friends with benefits complex.

wc: 1.3k

"uuugh, this guys so confusing!" you whined. kaiser listened carefully as you continued to whine on call. "does he like me or is he just tryna get pussy? what the fuuuuck!" you continued to complain.

he smirked, "seems like he's a hassle." he was shut up immediately as you yelled, "because he is one!" calming down, you asked sweetly. "mihyaa.. can you come over?" how could he say no?

you were wearing nothing but his t-shirt. kneeling in front of him, he took out his member. fuck you forget how big this guy is. the pretty rosewood tip was leaking with precum.

you pressed your lips onto his tip, placing a small kiss. licking your lips and savouring the slightly sweet and salty taste. forming your lips into an "o" you got down at it. your warm and moist mouth sucked this guy offff.

"s-scheiße..[name] ouuh, god." kaiser moaned. "your mouth feels so good.." he gripped you by the hair and forced you to swallow him a little deeper. your nose grazed slightly against his pubes. balls deep. you gagged a little. then, you bobbed your head as you kept sucking. and sucking. aaand more sucking.

his grip on your hair got tighter. he didn't even give you a chance to react as he finished in your mouth. his crazy strength kept your mouth on his cock. it hurt your knees. you also didn't want to swallow but this guy GAVE YOU NO CHOICE. you swallowed. slowly, he let go of your hair. there was an erotic pop as you gently peeled your lips off his member.

"mihya.!" you frowned. kaiser chuckled at your expression. those gorgeous lips formed into a frown as a bit of his cum was somewhat dripping from your mouth despite you swallowing. "sorry, meine liebe. not my fault your mouth feels extraordinary," he smiles. fuck. he knew how to use his words.

"i dunno why you're so upset though, [name]," the emperor smirked. he pulled you by the arm, to the position in which you're now standing. he got on his knees, (the emperor on his knees?! girl you got him over you! even if ur j fwb jesus!!) to face the level of your pussy. he traced his finger along the wet spot of your panties. a little squelch could be heard.

" 'cause she certainly not mad," he smiled in that dumbass smug way again. god you wanted to slap his stupidly attractive face. you were hit immediately with a flushed feeling. "s-shut the hell up!" you stammered. "jus' natural after i do something intimate. not that you have a toll on me or something," you muttered.

in one swift movement, he pushed you onto the bed. you laid on your back as he towered over you. your panties were slipped to the side as he slipped into you. you let out a high-pitched yelp. "y-yer so shallow, mihya..!" you moaned out. all so suddenly, this fucking guy just put it in? no foreplay no nothing? there's no way you were THAT wet.. okay to be fair he did get it in without hurting so...

as he kept thrusting, the shirt slowly rode up. the wet plapping sound of your bodies colliding was beginning to drive you crazy. "haa, calling me shallow but i'm just gettin' deeper.." kaiser groaned out. your walls were clenching onto his shaft for dear damn life.

you bit your lower lip til it bled. fuck the sensation. was crazy. "i fuckin' haaaate! you-!" you moaned out, voice going a few pitches higher as he hit that gummy spot within you. you grit your teeth as your back arched. shit. that arch was craaazy. "y-you, ooh! keep leadin' me on!" you gasped out. "ya different from those other guys or you jus' the same!?" you continued. (how do you eve have the energy to say that...?) "cause you keep fuckin' leading me into yer room. how's that my fault?" the prodigy grunted, his accent running through. you kept moaning and creaming over his dick. it was getting hard for him to not cum in you right there n then. your walls were sucking him in. he could cry. your nails began scratching and digging into his skin. "mihyaaa!" you cried as you came. the ecstasy filling your veins as he thrusted in you a few more times for you to ride your high. "how many times now?" his accent a lil' rougher than before. "forgot.." you muttered out a reply, catching your breath. you had that fucked out facial expression. seeing your expression, his once slightly limp cock was hard again. this guy is not softening up anytime soon..

prone-bone, doggy, mating press, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl. seashell, valedictorian, lotus position. everything was going on. while you were riding him, he made you do all the work. "tell me, meine liebe." he began. "confess to me, what's the worst?"

you fucking yourself dumb on his maaassive cock, you couldn't reply. the hell? he thinks you can form an answer after all that?! his annoying ahh voice chuckled, "that bad? your eyes are rollin' to the back of your head. can you formulate a single word? dumb dumb girl. why do ya think yer always gettin' played?" kaiser smirked. despite teasing or just making fun of you, there was a twinge of emotion. jealousy was it? envy..? anger..? who cared. you were getting your BRAINS fucked out man. "you're so smart... what happened now hm?" he sighed contently, switching positions as he kept thrusting. the gloss in your eyes matched the gloss on your lips.

"mihya- michael fuucking kaiser-" you were able to scream out. "finish in me plea- please..!" you sobbed. your eyes widened as he shut you the hell up with a passionate kiss.

tears were pooling. hands intertwining. ew. it was kinda gross. you couldn't breathe at all. your lips parted, giving his tongue an invitation to slide in. kaiser was actually losing his shit at this point. wild? this guy was going feral. genuinely feral.

the slight aftertaste of his semen (salty ahh) lingering in your mouth... the flavour of your mouth n his semen mixed drove him once again, insane. could there be a girl more perfect than you? nah. kaiser's ego was too big to admit that.

one more sloppy thrust and he relaxed his body. he came in you. your legs loosened around his waist as you came undone as well. kaiser stayed a little longer, not letting a single ounce of his seed drip out of you.

your soaked n warm cunt took all of that semen (oh yea girl!) he pulled out, running his hand thru his rigid ahh hair (no srsly wtf is that rattail hair oh gawd..) you were still dazed. blinking a few times you got up.

"mihya?! you're jus' gonna leave like that?!" you exclaimed as you sat up. he was already putting on his clothes. "mhm. i am, schatz." he replied.

"wait- but t-that's unfair!" you frowned. he didn't bat a single eye or did he dare to look in your direction. "what the hell are we?! please don't tell me we're just friends!" you sobbed. you were an emotional outbreak.

despite being the arrogant man he is, kaiser felt a pang of hurt. for himself and you. if he told you the truth on how he felt, he'd injure his fat ego. but if he didn't, he'd hurt you. kaiser's ego was very dear to him. it's what kept him alive to this point.

"come to my game tomorrow if you wanna see me, [name]." he sighed, buckling his pants. "you dick! not even aftercare!? fuck you kaiser!" you whined out. shit. you knew he hated being called by his last name. you were kinda annoying. did he care? na, not really he was all for it.

kaiser knew you'd come to his game either way. he just wanted to taunt you. before leaving, he uttered words you never expected to hear. "[name], y'know you're my dream girl right?"

michael kaiser damaged his ego that night. all he ever wanted to was to be able to express his affection for you. if only you knew how heavenly perfect you were in his eyes.

— ©iqxatlantic / isaisliterallyhim, 2025

a/n: can u tell i lost motivation and the plot half way lol... exams punched the hell out of me oh fawk why am i still recovering.. once again i suck at writing smut, like i suck in general but smut is not my cup of tea.. (i say as i continue writing HAHA) hopefully ygs enjoyed T_T this unironically made me so mad ? i got so lost while writing so er.. if its actually unreadable and confusing im sorry. i tried ok 😓once again, english isn't my first language n i don't have any prior experience... kaiser's so hot tho if he was my situationshup id get on my knees oh fawkkk... 0 to no proof reading btw this has been stuck in my drafts since the starf of conception! work was heavily based off of church.. and friends ig. also writing this sparked me how bad my love ife is, heavens... ya this is all yap hope ygs devoured this (isagi ref?!) im flopping omg...