#optional reward but frustrating to get

[ruthlesslistener]

probs part of the funniest thing my mom learned from the SD zoo animal care program she took for her ecology degree is that a.) enrichment items don't need to necessarily mimic items from their natural habitat, they just need to elicit natural behaviors, and b.) those behaviors don't necessarily need to be based on positive emotions. Sometimes the best thing to do is to give a captive animal something that will frustrate the hell out of them to get that brain working. Subject those beasts to situations

[natsarrownecklacx]

Ms Ceo And Her Assistant

Wanda Maximoff x Reader Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count- 1,475

Summary- Your Wanda’s girlfriend, her toy, but she’s too busy to play with you, so she asks her assistant for help.

Warnings- Smut, minors this fic is not for you, edging, dom / sub dynamics, mommy Wanda, mean Wanda, overstimulation, mentions of punishment, sharing, switch Nat

2K Follower Celebration

ⴵ <3 ᗢ <3 ⴵ <3 ᗢ <3 ⴵ <3 ᗢ <3 ⴵ <3 ᗢ <3 ⴵ <3

There isn’t much in this life that Wanda Maximoff loves more than her job.

She gets to boss people around, call them on their half assed or lazy shit without fear of repercussions, make thousands of dollars each week and that’s not even a sliver of why she loves it so much.

In essence though, if she had to boil it all down to one particular thing, Wanda would say it’s the power that she loves most.

Owning and running one of the leading technology companies in the world comes with quite a bit of power, along with a reputation to enhance it.

She loves the confidence it brings her. The control she has over others, it’s exhilarating, it’s addictive. She’s not sure she’ll ever get enough of it.

That’s why, when she met you, she knew she would never leave you. Just a poor little baby in need of a mommy, a strong dominating hand to guide you through life in every way possible.

You offered her an outlet for all her pent up energy, a place for all her needs and desires to not only be fulfilled but deepened.

You loved the way she treated you. Loved when she would edge you for hours, under the guise of teaching you patience. Or bend you over her knee and spank your ass raw, her way of “teaching her baby how to behave properly.”

Or when she’d make you cum over and over again for hours, purely for her amusement.

You adored soft moments with her, when you’d curl up on the couch, her hand running through your hair mindlessly as you watched your favorite show.

Or then after care she gave you after each and every session, when she’d treat you so gently.

You took it all from her willingly, the good and the bad, knowing that you wouldn’t know what to do without her. That you love her. Need her. More than you could ever want or need for anything else.

Right now Wanda has you sitting next her in her office. Your legs are forced apart, tied to either side of the chair she lured you into with the false hope of a reward.

She’s had you spread open for her for hours, tears streaming down your face and your legs quivering pathetically as she edges you, rubbing her fingers tortuously over your bundle of nerves, pulling you right up to the edge each time before pulling away entirely and delighting in the desperate moans and whimpers that leave your mouth at being denied.

“Please.” You beg, after your eleventh time of being edged by the older woman.

Your slick has long overrun your folds, now spread over the inside of your thighs, down the chair and pooling below you, making wet noises as you try to squirm and grind into the plastic surface, desperate beyond belief for any sort of relief.

“Mommy it hurts.” You whine, feeling frustration build inside of you when she doesn’t so much as shift her gaze from her laptop screen to you. The entire time she’s been torturing you she’s been on a business call.

She has you sitting just out of sight of the camera, but close enough that her wandering arm doesn’t cause suspicion when she moves to touch you.

Her mic is muted, her role in this meeting being to mostly listen and observe, only having to drop an option here and there. You know better than to make any noise when she speaks, the spanking she gave you last time flashing in your memory every time she hits that unmute button.

“Quite, brat.” She snaps, turning her attention away from the screen for half a second. “Mommy is busy. I’ll deal with you later.”

And usually that would be enough. The promise of her undivided attention, good or bad, would be enough to placate you. But not this time. This time the need burning inside you is pushing you to beg for more, to demand more to sate the hunger inside you.

“Mommy, I need it.” You push, seeing the anger and slight surprise in her eyes at the fact that you didn’t quieten down when she’d told you to.

“Are you that desperate for it?” She scoffs, moving her eyes to the pool of arousal between your legs.

You nod feverishly, more pleas and promises to be good falling from your lips.

“Fine.” She answers and you swear you can feel yourself deflating in relief only for it to be replaced by confusion when Wanda calls for her assistant instead of signing off her call.

“You called for me miss?” The red headed woman asks, standing in the now open door of Wanda’s office.

You can see she’s trying not to look at you, so can Wanda, a smirk lining her face as she tells her assistant to enter the room and close the door behind her.

The redhead does so, keeping her eyes locked on Wanda as she crosses the room, intent on not getting herself into trouble by allowing her eyes to drift to you.

“Is there anything I can help you with Ms Maximoff?” She asks, and the sultry tone of her voice has you whimpering, so desperate that the slightest thing sets you off.

The sound takes the other woman by surprise, her eyes darkening as she instinctively snaps her gaze toward you. Only for her to realize her mistake when her green eyes meet your pleading ones and she looks away.

“There is actually, thank you, Natasha.” Wanda says, leaning back in her chair and nodding towards you. “As you can see my little pet here is quite needy. I am, however, very busy at the moment.”

Natasha nods along, thinking maybe she would ask her to untie you from the chair, allowing you to take care of yourself.

Or maybe to wheel you into the room conjoined with Wanda’s office, where she couldn’t hear you.

“I need you to take care of her.” Wanda says, so nonchalantly, Natasha thinks she must have misheard her.

“I’m sorry?” Natasha asks, doing her level best to seem professional, even in these circumstances.

Wanda narrows her eyes at the woman, only for them to round again when she hears you moan, having accidentally jerked your hips forward and rubbing your clit against the chair.

“My pet.” Wanda says, flicking her eyes toward you in recognition. “Is a desperate little slut.”

Natasha darts her eyes toward you, unable to stop herself from licking her lips as her eyes drop to the mess between your legs.

“I need you to fuck her.”

Natasha swallows and flicks her eyes toward you again. She can smell your arousal from where she’s standing.

You whimper when her eyes meet yours and you try fruitlessly to grind down on the soaked surface of the chair, unable to find the right spot to make it feel good.

Fuck. She wants nothing more than to touch you. Your thighs look so soft, so plush. She wants to feel them squeeze around her head while she eats you out like a woman starved.

She wants to make you moan so loudly, hear you cry out for her. Feel your body tremble as she makes you cum again and again until you’re pushing her away, begging her for a reprieve.

“Well?” Wanda say’s impatiently, her eyes back on her laptop and the meeting taking place on the screen.

“Ms Maximoff, I don’t think this is appropriate.” She says, in a last stitch effort to keep her professionalism intact.

“Do you like having a job here, Ms Romanoff?” Not bothering to look up from her screen, as though Natasha’s defense borde her.

“Yes I-“

“Do you want to keep your job here?” She taunts, keeps her voice scarily level.

“Yes, Ms Maximoff.” Natasha answers, looking away in embarrassment, feeling like a scolded child.

“Then get to work.” Wanda commands, flicking her wrist in your direction.

Natasha nods and makes her way over to you. Her eyes zeroed in on the mess between your legs. Fuck you look good.

“Don’t ask her what she wants.” Wanda orders, noticing how Natasha stands hesitantly in front of you for a few seconds too long. “Fuck her however you want, she’ll take it like the good little whore she is, won’t you baby.”

You swallow nervously and look toward Wanda. “Yes, mommy.”

“Good.” Wanda says, returning her eyes to her laptop. “Now be a good slut for Natasha, baby and do as she says.”

Natasha takes a moment to look you over, her eyes visibly darkening at all the possibilities running through her mind.

“Anything I want?” She asks over her shoulder, refusing to take her eyes off of you.

Wanda smirks as she replies, intrigue building inside her.

“Anything at all, Ms Romanoff.”

ⴵ <3 ᗢ <3 ⴵ <3 ᗢ <3 ⴵ <3 ᗢ <3 ⴵ <3 ᗢ <3 ⴵ <3

A/n- My first WandaNat fic ( I think )

[beatrixstonehill2]

"Come on, aren't you just in love with them?" Sophia asked her boyfriend, Matt.

"Jesus, how much do those things weigh now?"

Sophia shrugged casually. "I dunno. A lot? Probably thirty pounds each, wanna weigh them?"

"Sure..... maybe later. You know, you don't have to keep doing this, Sophia. They're plenty big."

"Awwww, don't pretend to feel bad for me! I'm your girlfriend, it's my job to please you!"

"I appreciate it..... but don't you think you're taking this a bit far?"

Sophia giggled in a way that made it seem like she took this as a challenge. "You get so timid when your boyish little fantasies get exposed..... I saw all that porn on your laptop. Every other girl you jerk it to is some Influencer who grew out their boobs so much their spines snapped and they legit end up paralyzed from the shoulders down. The girls wear it like a badge of honor. I was so shocked to hear them talk so casually about their bodies being numb, not feeling their pussies, not being able to cum all because they grew such colossal boobs..... They act like it's the pinnacle of sexual appeal to be completely helpless, buried under a gigantic pair of boobs they can't even feel, only able to watch as men fuck them, encouraging them to have fun with their paralyzed bodies and not hold back. That's what you want, isn't it?"

"Sophie, you know I'd never ask that of you. Your career...."

"Being a therapist? Uh, duh, I can still do that over Zoom or Snapchat. Or my patients can come to me, trapped in bed, naked. I'll have to warn them not to mind my ponderous, 200lb-breasts. They're for my boyfriend, just try to ignore them! Or..... if men have pent up frustration, it might be a great way to get some of that anger and trauma out on what will amount to a pair of massive, fatty punching bags. I think that'll be an excellent option for my patients. Of course, I'll at least still be able to suck your cock and taste your cum, that'll be all I need--honest! And if you don't mind I can reward my clients by sucking their cocks, if they like...... this might be fun for the both of us after all!"

"Jesus, you're seriously committed to this?"

Sophia groped her oversized breasts, which were a D-Cup when they started dating only six months ago. "What gave it away? So, are you done pretending you don't want me to grow a pair of the biggest, heaviest, back-breaking tits you've ever seen?"

"Shit..... you are such a freak, I could marry a girl like you....."

"Down boy. Let's wait til my spine snaps! I'll look so much better getting wheeled down the aisle, my boobs well over 100lbs, wearing only a garter belt and veil, ooooo, maybe you can put huge hoops rings through my nipples at the altar? Not like I'll feel you piercing them. Won't that be fun?"

"Nothing would make me happier than to show your rich, snobby family what a good, obedient girl you turned out to be."

Sophia smiled, running over to kiss Matt, squishing her hefty breasts against his chest. Feeling that made both of them realize that although her breasts were absurdly large now, they were ultimately tiny compared to what they'd look like in another year or two.

[bratbby333]

please more gamer bf sukuna<3

❝ play with me, instead ❞

nsfw mdni

request from: @youliveincassisworld + 🔋anon + and two others ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ part one here + gamer!bf sukuna drabbles here cw: it's sukuna lol

gamer!bf sukuna who loves when you cockwarm him while he plays, even though you are quite the distraction.

⋆˖⁺‧₊𓆩♡𓆪₊‧⁺˖⋆

you straddle his hips, legs threading through the arm rests of his gaming chair, your bare chest flush against his clothed one. his big, throbbing cock nestles deliciously inside you.

“god you’re so fuckin’ tight on me…gonna win this one just for you, doll...then i'm all yours.”

you whimper against his neck, your needy pants sending chills down his spine.

“please...make it quick 'kuna…need you so bad,” you whine, but his eyes never break away from the monitor, eyebrows furrowed as he concentrates on his game.

you huff at his lack of attention, the stillness of his girth no longer quelling the unrelenting pangs of desire pulsing deep in your core. you slowly grind your hips into him, the thick head of his cock brushing against your sweet spot. you choke back a moan when his hand finds the back of your neck, his fingers digging into the sensitive flesh.

"be good 'n sit still or you're not gettin' anything at all," he says sternly.

you know better than to distract him. he takes his games very seriously and absolutely hates losing. but, you also know how good he fucks you when you act up, and how rough he gets with you when the game doesn't end the way he likes...so, why not kill two birds with one stone?

you weigh both options before siding with your better judgement, your movements ceasing. you rest your cheek on his shoulder, your arms snaking underneath his arms, hugging him tight.

"good girl."

your heart flutters at his praise as you smile into his neck, nuzzling deeper into him, the smell of his cologne making your head fuzzy.

his fingers press rapidly on the keyboard, the monotonous clicks and soft sounds of gunfire fill the room.

you sit patiently, taking in the warmth of his body and the stretch of his rock hard member still deep inside you. your pussy flutters around him as he swears at his game. you love seeing him tense and focused.

you can't take it, you need more.

your soft smile shifts into a devious smirk as your hips pick up where they left off. you feel his shoulders tense against your arms as he growls deeply, jutting his hips up into you, but seemly frustrated by your deviance.

“cut that shit out, brat.”

you hum in response, suppressing a giggle, your pelvis grinding deeper into him.

you hear the sound of his computer shutting down, and before you can register what's happening, his hands anchor in your armpits, lifting you up and flipping you around, your back now firm against his chest. he positions your feet on the edge of the desk, knees bent up.

“wanna act like a disobedient brat, im gonna treat you like one.”

he takes two fingers and shoves them between your parted lips, toying with the back of your throat. you gag as your mouth inundates with saliva.

he removes his fingers from your hot, wet mouth, dragging them down your chest, leaving a trail of spit along your body. his soaked fingers dance around your folds. you lean into his rough touches, heat rising in your cheeks as he plays with the flesh around your clit.

"kuna...p-please. want your fingers...need them," you stutter out.

a deep chuckle erupts from his chest as he continues to tease you, caressing every part of you other than the place you need him most.

"you defy me and think you'll be rewarded for it? you must be out of your mind, brat." he brings his free hand up to your face.

"spit."

with his palm coated in your saliva, he strokes himself as his fingers strum in and out of your folds. you whine, the lack of attention on your clit driving you insane.

"c'mon brat, talk to me. since you wanna interrupt my game…whaddya need?"

"anythin'...please 'kuna i'm sorry. want you so fuckin' bad. i'll be good...jus' give me anything..."

you whine as you feel his fingers leave your core.

"wha- no...sukuna i-," your pleas get stuck in your throat, eyes blowing wide as his hand clenches around your neck. he tilts your head back so it's resting on his shoulder.

"you're gonna sit here n let me use your sweet little cunt..." he lets go of your throat, jostling your head around from the force of his grip.

"but brats don't get to cum."

you try to bargain with him, but his large hand clamps over your mouth. he laughs, watching your chest heave in desperation, before pressing the head of his cock to your clit, rubbing agonizingly slow circles against your dripping cunt.

he pushes into you roughly, your slickness the only thing saving you from the abruptness of the intrusion.

he leans back in the chair, connecting his forearms to the pits of your knees, pulling your legs toward your ears. he clasps his hands behind your head, and your heart drops knowing what's in store for you.

he shifts himself lower in the chair, planting his feet firmly on the ground, using his new found leverage to pummel into your gushing pussy, giving you no time to adjust to his pace. your legs push against his forearms, your body fighting for relief from his unyielding strokes. your cries resonate through the room as he bullies deeper into you.

"p-please...can't..can't take it," you beg, eyes filling with tears.

"you said you'd take anything...thought this was what you wanted, slut." he readjusts his grip behind your head, grabbing at your hair, craning your neck so he can see your face.

"look at me. open your fucking eyes...watch me destroy you." he growls, his unrelenting pace and bruising grip in your hair making you see stars. he tilts your head down, forcing you to watch him plunge in and out of you. the sight alone is enough to bring you to release.

his thick cock kisses your g-spot with every stroke. you grip down on him, choking on your moans.

"kuna..'m gonna c-cum," you stutter out, barely able to keep your eyes open. he hums in acknowledgment, and just as your body reaches its crescendo, he pulls out.

"don't even think about it...already told you no."

you cry out as his hand smacks repeatedly on your pulsating clit, sending twinges of pain and pleasure through your tired body.

"gonna use you some more...you can’t cum ‘til i say so.”

he drops one of your legs over the arm rest, tugging at his cock before he shoves back into you, finding his original pace immediately. he picks your leg back up and pulls them both tighter against your trembling body, knees rubbing against your ears as he rams deeper into you.

your body aches, every neuron firing at once, urging you to let go. the ferocity of his strokes coaxing you to paint his taught thighs with your sweet juices, but you know that if you ignore his commands the punishment will be even worse.

"fuck...f-fuck, 'kuna...i-"

he pulls out again, smacking the shaft of his dick on your puffy pussy. he grins at your tortured expression, his crazed eyes drinking in your shaking body as he edges you. you writhe around in his lap, groaning at your emptiness.

"not yet..." he teases before bottoming out inside you once again. hot, wet tears trickle down your face as you fight off your impending orgasm once again.

"this is what you wanted, right?" the heavy sound of his balls smacking into your center emphasizes his words. your head is spinning, unable to focus on anything other than the aggressive, rhythmic strokes finding the deepest parts of your sopping core.

“answer me, brat.”

“unghh…yes. yes ‘kuna. ahhh! love when you u-use me,” you babble, too overstimulated to form coherent sentences.

he releases one of your legs again, shoving his digits back into your mouth. you choke against his fingers, the sounds of your gagging sends heatwaves through his body.

the tightness in your tummy is impossible to ignore as he pounds into you like a madman, his drenched fingers rubbing rough, sporadic circles into your poor, abused clit as he continues to drill into you.

"i-i'm...ah fuck, ‘kuna i-"

you squeeze around him, making his hips stutter and his cock twitch inside you.

"mhm...i know," he purrs into your ear. "i feel you grippin' down on me...go 'head. cum for me right fuckin' now. make a mess on me." he approves, his pelvis smacking into you with fervor, fingers continuing to rub against you.

your eyes roll back as a string of incoherent curses fall from your lips as you finally meet the sweet release of your orgasm. a few more pumps and he spills his thick, hot seed into you, accompanied by a rumbling groan that vibrates through his chest and into yours. he stills against you and releases the leg that was still held up against your chest, untangling your bodies as you both work through your highs.

you brace yourself on the edge of the desk as you work to regain your breath, trying your hardest not to pass out.

he chuckles as he watches your feeble attempts at regaining your composure, his hands rubbing gentle circles into your lower back.

he leans forward, his broad frame looming over your fucked out body, his lips caressing the outer shell of your ear.

"i'll give you 'til the end of this game to recover...be ready for round two, doll," his voice low, reaching around you to turn his computer back on.

⋆˖⁺‧₊𓆩♡𓆪₊‧⁺˖⋆

author note: thank you so much for all the love on part one and part two and on the headcannons for gamer!boyfie sukuna i wrote 🥺🥺

im still working through my requests, but my inbox is always open...feel free to drop a suggestion here!

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

[blanketbvby]

TWST x OM! self-sware AUs where you end up in possession of a cursed phone you found at a pawn shop that looked in really good condition, but any game you get on it comes to life.

You're not really a huge gamer, especially due to having such a busy personal life, so you only got two games that you thought would be fun for the moments your social battery was down but you still craved an adventure or excitement. You take your friend's advice and get two different games: Twisted Wonderland and Obey Me! Shall We Date?

Things start off nice and simple, and after a while daily login rewards start to get better and better for both games, even if it goes unnoticed your friends don't get anything nearly as good as you have despite having played longer.

You begin to figure the games are just generous with certain things, after getting a rather impressive amount of gifts after certain events. Had it not been for one minor detail, you wouldn't have ever noticed anything at all off about the games.

The way your friends complain about certain in-game storylines or characters.

What do you mean that Belphegor's story after lesson 16 needed more growth? That it felt rushed into forgiveness? Was 7 lessons of tension resulting into a final thought out apology not at all cared about?

And Grim? What about Grim? Why are your friends so frustrated that he's supposedly so annoying at times? Did the several late night conversations throughout the books slowly revealing his abandonment issues and need to feel important to not be abandoned mean nothing to them?

And what's this about characters not having a live chatting feature? Or onto having 2 or 3 options for dialogue all leading to the same outcome?

[vaxxman]

What do you think about 5cp TF2 map Gullywash?

Getting autobalanced on Gullywash feels especially tragic.

More sketches and more impressions under the cut.

In order to draw this, I watched some highlander matches on Gullywash, due to finding no matches in competitive, and the aimbots going rampant in casual. I was only able to play 5 proper matches on casual, (2 of which my teams won purely due to team imbalance,) so some of this is based on what I saw other people were doing in competitive match recordings, as well as how it feels to play on community servers with AI train bots. No one was playing whenever I was queueing up :(

I learnt very fast that Gullywash is one of these maps where you will die a lot, or steamroll the capture points, and there is no in-between, because you either position yourself correctly or you don't. While this goes for every map in tf2, I never really felt frustrated when dying here. I could always find a reason for my mistakes and generally it turned out to be a very rewarding learning experience.

I think Gullywash is extremely fun and fast paced. I especially enjoy giving scouts and pyros overheal buffs, because of how much flanking you can do here. The symmetry of the map is immaculate and the amount of objects that just lie around allows demos to place a lot of traps and players to just hide in corners.

(Using Scouts as your Uber Driver here is also especially fun, so many near death situations!)

For some reason, the soldiers and demos who play on this map are really good at protecting medics? That's the impression I got, everyone knew when to retreat and not push, everyone turned around when they saw my health go down, everyone was shooting the spies for me when we were in the open and I was too focused with healing the people fighting death matches at the front so we could capture.

(My personal heroes who just rocket jump over to you just to shoot the spy 2m away from you, and then just rocket jump away again)

Snipers aren't much of a problem, since there are so many options for hiding properly while still being able to reach your team mates. The same sadly doesn't apply to spies and I think I have died more to spies on this maps than to sticky traps.

While I love the vaccinator, I think Stock and Kritz are the better options on this map. Nothing cries geneva convention war crime more than entering the door to the last capture point and ubering a soldier who starts spamming everyone with rockets in this rather crammed up room where everything can give you splash damage.

Shoutout to a pyro called Joey who carried the last game I played, it was a blast ubering you through the last capture point.

[iamthedukeofurl]

While what happened to studio ZAUM and the Disco Elysium creators is undeniably tragic, it's honestly the most thematically coherent way that particular story could end. A passionate group of creatives creates a massively successful product, it's weird and innovative and, while it certainly draws a ton of inspiration from various existing works and genres, it synthesizes them into something unique enough that I'd say it would be impossible to predict that there even WOULD be an audience for it until it was released. It's openly political, but not in a way that necessarily makes anybody feel good about their existing beliefs. The entire thing is crafted and driven by deep passion and excellent writing and more than a little bit of insanity. And then, once it became clear that it was a genuine major phenomenon, the investors stole the company and the IP out from under the creatives. Which, yeah, that tracks for the Funny Communism Game. Otherwise, what are the options? The creators make another game, but fail to capture the lightning in the bottle of the original. The ideas that were once so fresh and unique are now expected, meaning that they'll be condemned for failing to reuse them by the people who just want to play Disco Elysium again for the first time, but won't have the same impact on people. Ends with a whimper. "What happened to the Disco Elysium guys" "Oh they made Disco Elysium II: Disco Elysiumer, but it kind of sucked". The creators could make another game, and it's wildly successful again, and they make a ton of money off of it. Capitalism Works and, just this once, people are rewarded for their ingenuity and passion. Eventually you either go back to number 1, or "Makers of Funny Communism Game are rich now". Like, genuinely the best outcome from a "People deserve to be rewarded for putting things people love into the world" standpoint, but thematically a bit eh. Worst case scenario, you get a repeat of Notch. I guess a variant of option 1 has them TRY to catch the lightning in a bottle again but fail to make anything they're satisfied with as the studio breaks up in frustration in an ironic repeat of the in-game story of Fortress Occident.

Instead, they make Funny Communism game, it's wildly successful, but instead of receiving the rewards promised under capitalism, somebody leverages the fact that they have access to capital to steal the studio out from under them and claim the rewards of their passion and labor. Karl Marx would have something to say about that.

[nivisdreaming]

Kinktober Day 4: Thigh Riding - Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

WC: 1k

CW: Dom!Miguel, sub!reader, light degradation, spanking, dry humping, thigh riding, marking, biting, nippleplay, praise, excessive use of petnames

Miguel O’Hara is a busy man. He practically runs the Spider Society on his own for god sake, he’s got a lot on his plate. He wishes it could all be missions and adventure, but a grueling portion of it is paperwork. Boring old paperwork that takes up too much of his time and attention, especially for your liking.

It’s not odd for you to creep into his home office long after dark, attempting to lure him to bed, only to find him hunched over his desk and buried in spreadsheets and reports. That’s exactly where you find him tonight, face lit by his computer screen as he endlessly scrolls through a document.

You sneak up behind him, hands creeping up his shoulders and rubbing gently, working the knots that lie beneath the skin. His eyes flit up to you for only a moment, grumbling a hello without pausing his reading. You frown at his negligence and lean forward to rest your chin atop your head. You clear your throat and mutter, “Are you almost finished here? It’s late.”

Miguel’s lips press into a thin line as he glances up at you. “I’m sorry, mi vida, but I’ve still got a couple of reports to check off my list.” His hand comes up to pat your hair for a second before returning to his computer mouse. You sigh heavily and debate your options. You could be good and go wait for him in your room. Or you could be bad and try to bother him into paying you attention now. One of these options seemed to provide a much more immediate reward, and you were nothing if not impatient.

You started slow, a small peck to his forehead and your arms creeping to wrap around his torso. He gave no response, assuming you were just feeling clingy from the late hour and lack of time together that day. Annoyed with his continued focus on his work, you worked your kisses down to his cheek, and then further down to the sensitive spot directly behind his ear. You nipped and licked, eliciting a shiver from him before he grabbed the wrist of your hand that had begun to wander lower on his waist. “Mi amor, exactly what is it you think you’re doing?” He growled as you kept up your assault, moving to mark up his neck with hickeys.

You pulled back for a moment to speak, “Winning your attention from the dumb paperwork, Miggy.” You shifted in front of him, throwing a leg over his lap and pressing into him in a straddle. You maintain no subtlety in grinding your hips forward, a delicious shock running up your spine as you find him already beginning to strain against his slacks. He groans as you shamelessly dry-hump him, allowing himself a few moments to get lost in the feeling of your warmth before grabbing ahold of your hips.

“You know better than to distract me from work, brat.” He lands a hard slap on your ass, chuckling at the whine it pulls from you. “You need me that badly, baby?” He presses his fingertips in harder, threatening to bruise until you give a pitiful nod and whimper. He wastes no time in shifting you to rest atop his right thigh, the bulky muscle pressing up into your core. You look up at him with confusion, and he gives you another spank. “You need to cum so bad? Then you can do it while you ride my thigh.”

You roll your hips instinctively, and the friction on your clit rips a pathetic moan from you. Miguel turns to continue his work and you give a drawn-out whine, but the feeling of humiliation only encourages your helpless grinding. You burrow your face into the crook of his neck, strings of mewls falling from your lips as he tenses and bounces his thigh underneath you, the only sign that he’s even aware of your desperate behavior.

Your legs begin to tremble as you barely hold on to your pleasure, the layers of fabric frustrating you, and the lack of attention from Miguel becoming more and more infuriating. In a moment of anger, you sink your teeth into his neck, chomping down on his pulse point to force his gaze onto you. It clearly works, as he threads a hand into the back of your hair and wrenches you off his neck to stare into predatory eyes.

“You little bitch. You’re really gonna be so damn impatient tonight?” He growls. His free hand locks on your hip, forcing you to resume your grinding with a newfound vigor as he pushes you into him. The increased pressure causes you to cry out, euphoria starting to coil in your stomach. You squirm in his grasp, yelps of his name forced from you as he moves to pinch at your nipples and eventually lowers his mouth to lathe his tongue over them.

Your eyes roll back into your skull, the band in your lower belly snapping without warning when Miguel gives one last tense of the muscle under you. Fireworks explode in your vision and throughout your body, forcing you forward to lean fully on the man holding you as you twitch and buck.

He soothes up and down your back until you are still, whispering soft praises in your ear while you recover. “Good girl, that’s my good girl. You did well, mi amor, I’m so proud of you,” he mutters. You peel your eyes open to look at him, and he shoots you a soft smile and places a gentle kiss to your lips. “Go back to our room, baby, I’ll be there in just a few minutes and then you can put that show on without anything covering you up, okay?”

[zucchichat]

My opinion to "desperate" artists and TIPS TO IMPROVE YOUR ART

This is my art journey

6 years later...

If artists want support and followers, they should earn them by their own accomplishments and hard-work.

I hate it when they earn it from guilt-tripping others, being desperate and earn followers out of pity

You can never have a stable and healthy relationship with your followers that way, and you may get worse when you dont gain any interactions with them

Please stop doing this, and start growing your acc on your own. If you feel like your art doesnt appeal to others, start taking advice and study from other artists around you that you like. There are thousands of FREE resources on all platforms: Instagram, Youtube (recommended) , Pinterest (for reference) ,... And alot of separate websites you can find!

Trust me, hard work pays off

Its okay to feel like you dont improve at all, but thats not true, if you study and practice often (no need to do it everyday, it can be 2-4 days a week) you're already better than yourself yesterday

Compare your art to other artists has alot of benefits since you can see what to improve and see the progress. But dont do that too often, it'll turn to be an unhealthy obsession and in this world where there're always people better than you, you'll suffocate yourself forever. Thats a hard hit to reality but it's the truth. In this i recommend:

Find artists that you like and set them as your art goals, they can be artists with totally different artstyles, art is never something stable and its always good to try new things

From your art goals, start "taking" some of your favourite things about the artists and "artistically" add them to your own.

Tracing is another way to study privately for beginners, but i dont recommend doing this for long, it can stagnant your progress if you rely on it too much.

Unless its your style of choice, practice confidence in your streaks and lines, use your whole arm to draw (i know it can be boring at first, but everything you do now will have a rewarding result)

Stepping out of your comfort zone sometimes. You dont have to do this if you consider art as a hobby, but if youre serious or wanting your art to take a new step, i recommend expanding your art to many categories, like drawing backgrounds, hands, poses, anatomy, ect.

Study color theory, this is optional but i heavily recommend, this makes your art UPGRADE NO EXCEPTIONS

Here are some of my very basic tips, you've probably seen them everywhere and hear these thousands of times already, but if you're reading this and feel motivated, consider this the start of your journey! This is gonna be an exciting, might be tiring and frustrating, but memorable

Goodluck! The future awaits new extremely talented artists to bloom💖

[girlbossagenda]

How to recover after failure

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

It's said failure it's part of life, and it's true, but it's also true that it weights and can pretty much hurt you and make you question your own abilities. It happened to me a couple of time to fail that test that I studied for or that subject that I'm good at, it can cause unecessary worry and a lower your self esteem. So today I'm here to share with you what I do to recover from a failure and what I do to lower the impact of it.

୨୧aknowledge that it happened୨୧

Just because it makes you feel uncoftable doesn't mean that you have to ignore it, it's better to express those feelings of disappointment. You can cry or expressout loud how much it sucked to fail. If it happens in a public setting find a place where you can experience that emotional out bust. You have all the rights to feel disappointed or sad, it just means that you cared.

୨୧stop focusing on others and comparison୨୧

This is crucial especially if you are in a competitive envirioment, you ultimately start comparing you progression with the others, you need to detach and focus only on what you have done and change you perspective from "My failure it's gonna advantage them"-> to -> "This failure it's all about me so how it affects ME and my progression".

୨୧try a way to relief yourself୨୧

Some people prefer to stay around their friends or to find external support, others prefer to stay in isolation, I suggest you to mix these two options. Try to avoid staying around people who also failed( You don't want to depend on other people's failures in the future or trigger procrastination), but also avoid staying around who did better than you, try to talk it out with someone who will undestand the frustration of failure and that it's right in the middle. Before approaching someone I highly suggest you to let it out, so you don't lash out on the listener.

୨୧programm your next plan୨୧

This is when you make ammend and learn from your mistakes, you need to figure out why you failed and what you can change to succede. Maybe your problem was the lack of consistency or you didn't read carefully what the exercise asked you to do, point out all the mistakes and make a plan according to them.

୨୧grant yourself some type of leisure୨୧

Just because you failed it doesn't mean that you have to treat youself harshly, do a face mask, make up, crochet etc..try to get involved with your hobbies and don't jump immediatly to work midlessly without a plan and exausted from the emotional wuond you carry, it will eventually lead you to burn out(or worsen it). So try to give yourself some type of consolation reward.

Hey hunns, heres today's tips and advices, I hope I helped you, if you want to ask me more questions of advices you can send me a massed by using the "advice" button on my profile, this is the second part of my advices miniseries, I truly hope you enjoyed it, all of these advices come from personal experienc, I hope you have a great day stay pretty and educated xoxo gourgeous!

-𝓐

[callisto-corner]

Cooking at 3am | Geto Suguru

Pairing: Geto Suguru x gn reader

You remember those words from Virginia Woolf: 'One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.' She had a point, didn't she? Food, it's like the engine oil for your body. Without it, you're just grinding gears. And right now? Well, let's just say you're feeling the effects. Since two in the morning, it's been a battle on all fronts. Physically, emotionally, mentally—you're feeling the strain, the emptiness gnawing away at you .

A solitary tear escapes, trailing down your cheek as you clutch your rumbling stomach, wondering why Geto hasn't stirred yet. Seriously, does he sleep through earthquakes? you roll over to the small table, the moon's feeble light filtering through the curtains, barely illuminating your quest for sustenance. It's a scene straight out of a tragic romance novel, only instead of longing gazes, there's just you and your grumbling belly, desperately searching for snacks in the dark and there was none. A tragic ending in truth but one you refused to accept.

You unplugged your phone and it blinked. The clock struck 2:30 and it was time to deploy. Guided by the soft illumination of the moonlight seeping through the curtains, you navigated towards the door with deliberate steps, each footfall measured and precise. You spared a brief glance at Geto, cocooned in the warmth of the duvet, his peaceful slumber undisturbed by the nocturnal activities unfolding around him.

With practiced precision, you reached for the doorknob, turning it slowly to minimize any noise. The hinges yielded with a soft murmur, barely audible in the stillness of the night. Casting one final glance at Geto's peaceful slumber, you slipped out into the hallway, leaving behind the cold of the room for the cool embrace of the night.

The darkness enveloped you as you ventured into the living room, the moonlight filtering through the windows providing little assistance. With a quick flick, you activated the flashlight on your phone's camera, its beam cutting through the shadows and revealing the path ahead.

Navigating through the familiar terrain, you made your way towards the kitchen, each step cautious and deliberate. After a few moments of searching, your efforts were rewarded as you located the switch for the kitchen's light. With a click, the room was bathed in illumination, casting a warm glow over the countertops and cabinets.

Relieved to have finally made it to the kitchen, you wasted no time in getting to work. With your stomach rumbling impatiently, you eagerly scoured the pantry and refrigerator, hoping for a quick fix to satisfy your midnight cravings. But as you peered inside, your heart sank.

As you scoured the pantry and refrigerator, your hopes dwindled with each empty shelf. No chips to crunch on, no crackers to nibble. Not even a solitary cookie to salvage the situation. Instead, all you found were ingredients that required cooking—nothing suitable for instant gratification. Not a juice box or an apple in sight.

And then, like a slap in the face, it hit you: today was grocery day. The realization hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of your oversight. With a sigh of resignation, you accepted your fate and prepared to face the challenge of cooking up a meal from scratch, determined to make the best of the situation despite the inconvenience.

With a sense of determination, you propped your phone up against the knife holder, relying on the video's guidance to cobble together a meal. But frustration mounted as you realized that key ingredients were missing, throwing a wrench into your culinary plans. With a heavy sigh, you cracked your brain, considering alternative options to salvage the situation.

As if on cue, Geto's voice pierced the silence of the dark hallway, catching you off guard. "What do you think you are doing?" 

You couldn't help but let out an involuntary gasp, your hand flying to cover your mouth in a feeble attempt to hold back your outburst. The sound of your own heartbeat thundered in your ears, drowning out any hope of a coherent response as you watched Geto's calm face from across the kitchen.

And then, with a pointed gesture, he directed your attention to the sign above the stove—a sign you had failed to notice until now. The bold letters spelled out your ban from the kitchen, accompanied by a flurry of exclamation marks that left no room for ambiguity.

"Really?" you exclaimed, a mix of disbelief and amusement coloring your tone as you turned back to face him. His upper body rested casually on the island's marble surface, his expression calm yet resolute. With a slight shrug of his shoulders, he met your amazed gaze. "I still want a house to live in," he stated matter-of-factly, reaffirming the rules he had set in place.

"Come on Sugu" you placed the pot on the stove. "It was an honest accident"

"And I honestly," he began, his voice gentle as he met your gaze, "would still like to live in this house and not its ashes." your small smile dropped as you watched him. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead.

“Can you teach me then?” you threw your hand in the air.

He gestured a hum to your request, as he washed the vegetables. “You’d like to learn?” he turned to you

You have never cooked anything out of a small childhood mac and cheese. It was simple and it was tasty. Only required boiling water and after simply separating the liquid from the macaroni then you added cheese.

Your admission hung in the air, a stark contrast to the warmth of the kitchen. It was a confession that spoke volumes, revealing a vulnerability you rarely showed. Geto's expression softened, his eyes reflecting understanding and empathy.

"Never cooked anything beyond a childhood mac and cheese?" he echoed, his voice gentle yet tinged with curiosity.

You nodded, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks. It was a humbling admission, but one you knew you needed to make if you were ever going to learn.

Without missing a beat, Geto turned off the water and dried his hands, his movements deliberate yet comforting. "Well, then," he said, a spark of determination lighting up his eyes. "It's time we change that."

"I'll leave the vegetables duty to you," he added, gesturing towards the colander of vegetables that he had placed in a bowl to catch the dripping water.

With a nod of acknowledgment, Geto set to work, his focus unwavering as he began to prepare the shrimp with practiced ease.

Throughout the cooking process, Geto patiently taught you how to julienne carrots and peel various ground provisions efficiently. His guidance was clear and encouraging, and you absorbed his instructions eagerly, eager to learn and improve your cooking skills.

As you watched Geto work his magic in the kitchen, a surge of excitement and anticipation bubbled up inside you. This wasn't just about cooking; it felt like the beginning of a whole new culinary adventure, and you couldn't wait to dive in.

Standing shoulder to shoulder with Geto, you are soaked in the sights and sounds of the kitchen—the sizzle of the shrimp hitting the pan, the aroma of spices mingling in the air. His movements were confident and sure, a testament to his expertise in the kitchen.

As Geto poured the shrimp into the pan, the sizzle of the seafood hitting the hot surface filled the air with an enticing aroma. With a deft hand, he sprinkled the perfect blend of seasoning over the shrimp, each movement deliberate and precise. You couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as you watched him work, eager to play your part in this culinary symphony.

Instinctively, you reached for the dishes, your fingers dancing across the smooth surface as you prepared to assist in any way you could. As Geto stirred the sauce, you moved seamlessly beside him, your actions perfectly synchronized as if you'd been cooking together for years. It was a fluid collaboration, each of you anticipating the other's movements with a natural ease.

And then, as the aroma of the simmering sauce filled the kitchen, it was time to taste. Geto reached for a fork and a small plate, his movements deliberate as he carefully selected a plump shrimp from the pan. With a gentle touch, he dipped the fork into the sauce, ensuring that each bite would be infused with flavor.

You'd like to believe that no other man could have held a candle to a man like Geto. He, a man whose essence radiated warmth like a cozy hearth on a winter's night. His patience wasn't just a virtue; it was a cloak he wore with effortless grace, never once allowing the chaos of the world to ruffle its serene folds. And his kindness? It flowed from him like a gentle stream, soothing the weary souls he encountered along life's winding path. Geto was the embodiment of tranquility, a steady anchor in a sea of uncertainty, his presence a balm to those fortunate enough to know him.

As he held out the fork to you, offering you the first taste, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in your chest. Taking the morsel of shrimp into your mouth, you closed your eyes, savoring the explosion of flavors that danced across your tongue. You hummed as the food melted in your mouth, the spiciness and sweetness of the sauce mixed the spiciness erupting a tiny cough from you. .

“Is it any good?” he asked

You couldn't help but chuckle at his question, even after countless meals he'd prepared for you, his humility never faltered. “Now you're just fishing for compliments,” you teased, giving him a gentle poke in the chest.

“But if you must know, I think you know the fastest way to my heart”

His smile widened, a mixture of pride and satisfaction evident in his expression.

“Then I'll just have to keep cooking for you, won't I?”

[ponett]

ive seen you post about doctor robotnik's ring racers occasionally on twitter and would like to hear your overall thoughts on the game

I'm enjoying it a lot! It plays well, has a ridiculous number of unlockable characters and tracks, and is generally just really polished. This would be impressive even for a paid indie kart racer that cost like $20-$30, but for a freeware fangame that's somehow built off of Doom? It's nuts. So much love and care went into this. I've been having a lot of fun playing through all the Grand Prix cups and clearing out the challenge board, which I've only completed 47% of it even with over 15 hours of playtime logged.

It's absolutely one of the most hardcore kart racers I've ever played, though, and that's gonna turn some people off. While playing solo even easy mode can be difficult, especially thanks to the rival system that gives one CPU buffs over the others. Anything below 150cc is a complete joke for me in Mario Kart, but even playing on the "normal" difficulty in Ring Racers (now renamed "intense" in the 2.2 patch) kicks my ass, and if you place poorly in a Grand Prix race it gives you a game over and makes you redo the race. I can't even imagine touching the higher difficulties at my current skill level.

This is compounded by how technical the game is and how many options are at your disposal. Spin dashing, tricks, fast drops, collecting and spending rings, an item roulette that can be manually stopped, a high risk high reward chargeable melee attack when you have negative rings, the ability to harass and be harassed by other racers while positioning yourself before the start of the race, gates that can only be passed through when you have a high level of boost, lots of items with different quirks that reward skilled play. And of course, perhaps most daunting of all to new players, there's the game's unique slope physics designed to mimic how they work in the 2D Sonic games, which will often require you to either spend rings for a small boost or stop and charge up a spin dash to get up a steep hill.

All of these add a lot of complexity to the game that can be pretty daunting early on, which is why it has an infamously long story-driven tutorial to introduce all of these mechanics. I'm not sure said tutorial actually does the best job introducing how those mechanics will actually be put to use in races, but I can't blame them for thinking the game needed it. (I do have to admit I am annoyed by the game's insistence upon framing everything via Sega Saturn inputs, though. I had to open the settings screen to figure out what buttons the tutorial actually wanted me to press.)

Some of these things have already been addressed in the first couple patches, of course. You can now exit the tutorial way earlier, some unlock requirements have been relaxed, there's an option to let the game automatically use your rings for you, easy mode has been made easier, a handful of problematic courses have been tweaked, etc. And I'm sure they'll continue to refine the game based on player feedback. But it's probably always going to be a fairly hardcore game. It's hard and has a high skill ceiling by design. Nintendo's never gonna make a super technical new Mario Kart for sickos - not on purpose, at least. They need it to be a pick-up-and-play party game that sells 70 million copies. But a freeware fangame not beholden to shareholders can experiment more and try to cater to that more hardcore crowd. Say what you will about Ring Racers, but it absolutely has a specific creative vision of its own beyond "Sonic Mario Kart," and I respect that even if the game sometimes frustrates me

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Promptadoodledoo; land o Goshen, this was a tough one, so thanks for sticking with me]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) 12: family (13) (14) (15) (16) (17)

Breach imminent

MH

Sherlock groans, shoving his phone between couch cushions and drawing a sleeping Rosie closer to him. 

'Bad news?' John asks from his chair. He looks over his reading glasses at where Sherlock is curled around his daughter, and feels affection sting so hard in his chest that he absently rubs at it.

'The worst,' Sherlock answers sullenly

John runs through the likely options in his head, then goes with his gut. 'Your parents are coming to town?'

Sherlock opens his eyes and stares at John, his expression full of surprise, then affection, then shammy casualness. 'I have been a good influence on your deduction skills, clearly.' 

John chuckles. 'That, or your brother advised me to clear my calendar and clean the flat.'

'Meddling queen,' Sherlock mutters into Rosie's hair. Then his phone pings again. 

I haven't told them.

MH

John doubles down. 'He knows, I take it? About our… development?' 

'You are doing very well today.' 

'Feelings, Sherlock. I'm good at people and their feelings.'

'Yes, yes, that's why I keep you around. Of course he knows; I let him keep the surveillance up in the stairwell in exchange for having none in here.' 

'Ah.' John had suspected as much, though admittedly he had not considered it at the time of the first (very unplanned) tryst. 'Has he told your parents?' 

'Apparently not.' 

Silence stretches. They've come a long way, but John feels too keenly the risk/reward scenario here, and is undecided.

This time it's John's phone that pings. 

It's up to you, of course, but rest assured: they would be inordinately pleased. 

MH

John's eyebrow quirks. 'Your parents like me?' he finally says, going for casual but missing, and he knows it. 

'You're very likeable.'

'You know, from anyone else that would be a compliment.' 

Sherlock doesn't answer beyond a grunt. It's somehow safe to have this conversation in this arrangement, with the comforting stretch of the room and the gorgeous sleeping toddler between them. They're connected, but not so much as to overwhelm. 

'How much time have we got, do you reckon?' John asks, almost to the air.

'Far too little,' Sherlock grumbles.

'Right, but from you that could mean three months.'

'Yes, well, seeing as your birthday is in two weeks, but tis the season of primroses so they have to schedule us in between, I'm surmising it to be about three hours, in actuality.'

John snorts. 'That's a bit harsh.'

'No, no, they're beautiful primroses.'

'Hang on,' John says suddenly, running back through what Sherlock has said. 'They know when my birthday is?'

'Of course.'

'They care when my birthday is?'

'Don't be daft.'

'I'm trying, but they hardly know me. And what they know of me is not altogether flattering.'

'I said don't be daft.'

John can't stop a frustrated noise. 'Then explain it better.'

Sherlock opens his eyes, considers him for a moment, then he breaks eye contact and buries his nose in Rosie's hairline. 'They know of my affections for you. And that's enough for them.'

John's breath deserts him for a moment. 'Sherlock…'

'Don't let's make a big thing out of it, please.'

John wants to laugh. It's already literally the biggest thing in his life. 'Alright,' he says instead. 'But... let me be the one to tell them, yeah?'

Sherlock goes very still, not lifting his gaze. 'You'd be amenable to that?'

Sod this, it's been long enough. John shunts his reading glasses aside and stands, listening to his bones crick as he crosses and crouches in front of the two most important people in his orbit. 'Yeah, course.' He presses his lips against Rosie's forehead, then Sherlock's, without hesitation. 'Try and get rid of me.'

Sherlock finally, finally meets his eyes, and John feels so much he wants to tackle both of them and just cocoon for a little while. Tell the world to bugger off.

So, of course, there's a knock at the door. Sherlock groans, and Rosie's face scrunches up in the universal expression of, "How dare you wake me up, you rude creature."

'Three hours?' John says while scooping his daughter out of Sherlock's embrace. She needs a change. Maybe he should use that baby magic and let Sherlock's parents do it, he thinks with a grin.

'I am not in control of all variables, unfortunately,' Sherlock mutters into the sofa, where he's pressed his face.

John's mouth curves into a smirk as he heaves up (bloody hell, getting older is not for the weak) and turns towards the door. He wishes fleetingly that Sherlock was behind him, in solidarity if nothing else.

Then, suddenly, he is, his mouth pressing against Rosie's sleep-rumpled cheek over John's shoulder. He doesn't turn to John, but he doesn't have to. 'Into battle?'

John nods, then reaches for the door.

[❤️]

[electronicwitchcollection]

Here’s the third instalment of “Accidental mate” warnings! This does contain smut! hope you enjoy!

Grimmjow walked back into the room a few hours later, unsatisfied with his hunt. It had taken him too long to stumble across a lower hollow, and by that time he had too much pent up frustration. He had ripped into the hollow with manic sadism, relishing in the thrill of the kill. He didn't think to eat before the hollow fizzled away back to hell.

His growling stomach had brought him reluctantly back to the room in time for dinner, though now that his eyes laid you curled up in the bed, he suddenly had a very different hunger. You were breathing softly, lips parted ever so slightly. Curled up on yourself, fingers gently holding the sheet in comfort. You still wore Grimmjows musk, though faded the scent still lingered on your skin, mixing with your own salty sweet smell. It made Grimmjows mouth water.

He didn't know how long he stood there staring at you, a current of arousal flowing over his skin like electrical static. A knock at the door startled him from his watching. Grimmjow snapped into a defensive position, crouching low to the floor, arms spread to block an attack from getting to you venerably sleeping on the bed. His teeth were bared as a feline snarl ripped from his throat.

The warning growl woke you up, shooting up to a sitting position on high alert, eyes darting around wildly looking for the threat. When a tentative knock came from the door, you relaxed, shoulders sagging in relief. Grimmjow hadn't moved from his stance, muscles coiled, ready to spring into action in a split second. A low rumble emitting from his chest.

"Oh for the love of... it's just someone knocking the door Grimmjow." You scolded him gently, shuffling to the edge of the bed to stand up. You walked past Grimmjow, still staring daggers at the door, to open it. The woman who greeted you at the front desk was there, looking awfully uncomfortable at the warning animalistic noises she had heard in response from her knock "don't mind him, he's not fully house trained yet" 

You were rewarded with a strained smile and a petulant huff from behind you at your attempt to lighten the mood. Grimmjow grumbled behind you, muttering a few choice words you'd rather ignore. Instead you smile to the woman "how can we help?"

"I just came to hand you tonight's menu" she said offering you two cards and two pencils "please mark what you would like and how much of each, when you're finished, place it outside your door. Dinner will be brought to your room in little more than an hour " 

"oh fantastic, thank you so much" you say glancing down at the menu. The woman gave a low bow, sliding close the door and getting as far away from the pissed of arrancar as she could

"You hungry?" You call to Grimmjow pacing along the patio door like a caged animal. You sat heavily at the table, hungry eyes grazing over your options for some much needed food

"starving"

"come see what you want then" you slide his menu to the other side of the table, not looking up from your own. It all looked so good. You read through the menu twice, taking in all your options so you could decide, not wanting to tick off too many things. Pencil in hand, you first filled out the drinks option, choosing a bottle of house sake and lychee juice. About to decide on your meal, you notice Grimmjow staring at his menu as though it was about to bite him "something wrong?"

"I don't know what the fuck this says" he grumbled, turning the menu upside down and sneering at the little black markings. You couldn't believe your density at that moment. Grimmjow couldn't read. Of course he couldn't, he had lost all of his human memories at his death. He was a hollow, a hunter. There was no signs or books in hueco mundo, no one to teach him how to read, nor have the need to learn. Your eyes softened as you watched him inquisitively inspect the menu, it was innocent, almost child like

"here pass it back, I'll fill it out for you" you held out a hand expectantly, relieved when he placed it in your hand and not throw another fit. He sat opposite, long legs stretched under the table to lay either side of your own crossed ones "what do you like?" 

"meat"  the blunt answer nearly made you chuckle, silly question. Of course the predator liked meat. You weren't sure how much human food he has had the chance to eat. There were probably hundreds of new flavours and textures for him to try. A few veggies wouldn't hurt him either

"How about I just select a few different ones for us to try? We can lay them all on the table and try a little of each?"  You took Grimmjows shrug as a yes, quickly marking off a few different rice, noodle and vegetable dishes. You chose one or two of each meat dish you could find, then doubling your drink order and adding water. You gathered up the cards and pencils, leaving them just outside your room door.

She said it'll be done in over an hour, plenty of time to get clean and have a well deserved soak in the bath. You stretch your arms above your head as you walked to the draws, earlier shown to be where the towels were kept. You pulled out two, laying one on top of the dresser for Grimmjow.

You rummaged through your back, grabbing the smaller toiletries bag and laying out some sleep clothes on the mattress "Im going to clean up before dinner. You should do the same, that shack wasn't the cleanest" 

Grimmjow just grunted at your comment, a strange feeling fluttering about in his stomach at the idea of you cleaning off his scent. Stepping outside, closing the sliding door behind you, you set down your belongings near the shower before stripping off your clothing. The sky was beginning to darken, air beginning to chill at the retreat of the sun. Confident there wasn't anyone around to see you naked, you walk into the open shower, washing quickly.

The water wasn't as hot as you would've liked, but it got you clean. You washed your hair, familiar fruity smell lingering on your damp strands. The pressure did wonders on your back, falling heavily into your muscles beat away the tension. When a stronger gust of wind blew across your body, skin erupting in goosebumps, you decided to retreat quickly to the hot bubbling bath.

You gingerly stepped in, hissing at the difference of temperature. You were about to slowly ease yourself in, accommodate your body to the temperature when the sliding door flung open suddenly, Grimmjow striding out completely naked

"Grimmjow!" You squeak at him, quickly sitting in the bath, covering yourself with the bubbles. Grimmjow cocked an eyebrow at your girly exclamation, striding across the small patio to stand under the spray of the shower "what the hell are you doing?"

"washing"

"No you dolt". You pinched the bridge of your nose, cheeks flushing a brilliant red. You tried not to watch as Grimmjow rubbed his rough hands all over his body, thick droplets of water trickling down his tanned, sculptured torso... "I'm naked!" 

"So am I"  he shrugged, leaning his head back, letting the spray hit him in the face. Your mouth dried at the sight, his wet hair lost it's pushed back style, falling limply down the sides of his face. It softened his features somewhat, it was different, not bad, just different. He was still infuriating though

"Have you ever heard of privacy? Men and women don't tend to bathe together" Honestly, did you have to teach him everything? Damn animal. Grimmjow chuckled, deep and dirtily, as he abandoned the shower to climb into the bath opposite you, despite your protests. He leaned back against the side, wide arm span draping over the edge.

"You're so weird, been walking around with my seed in ya all day but cry when I see your tits" even with his head leaned back you could see the wrath inducing grin plastered on his face. Smug bastard

"Thats different" you try to defend yourself. A futile attempt, there was no point in arguing with Grimmjow about your values and customs. He either didn't know them or didn't care about them. Grimmjow was amused by your attitude towards nakedness, it was bizarre. Before Aizen made him dress in clothes, he was always naked. It was natural, free. He hated the confines of clothes, they were tight and restrictive. "Just because we slept together once doesn't mean you get to see me naked any time you damn well please "

"Woman, will you shut up" Grimmjow muttered darkly, sinking further into the soothing bubbling water. It smelt strange, a tangy chemical smell that didn't smell safe to drink. But the hot water was soothing, the strong bubbles beat against his muscles, working out the knots in his muscles. He didn't miss the way you said "once" either. The notion made him frown for some reason.

You frowned at his rude dismissal, grumbling under your breath about uncouth animals who should be locked up in a cage. You didn't feel as relaxed in the tub as you had intended, not with Grimmjow spreading his legs and taking up most of the room. The hot water did sooth you though, you had hardly any discomfort left lingering. Grimmjow looked better too. A lot less wound up than he did earlier. Didn't have that crazed, wounded animal look he had worn.

Head hung back, you could see how thick his neck was, Adam's apple protruding proudly. His shoulders were wide, defined, arms spread wide across the lip of the bath, even relaxed his biceps bulged. Speaking of bulges... no. You couldn't go there, not again. He was good looking. You couldn't deny that. If only he didn't act like a rabid animal half time, he could possibly make someone very happy. Just not you. You were too different. Wanted different things.

Your stomach growling loudly reminded you how hungry you were. Grimmjows head snapped up at the loud rumble, giving you a disbelieving look. You flip him the middle finger, deadpan look on your face as he grinned manically at you. You roll your eyes, about to stand when you stopped yourself, painfully aware of how naked you were.

Grimmjow had no such qualms standing upright in one fluid motion, flaccid penis eye level as water trickled down over his abs. Even soft it was a sight to behold. Thick and long, it commanded attention. Grimmjow either didn't notice the blush rushing your face or chose to ignore it. He stepped from the tub, shaking his body to rid himself of the extra water before walking back into the room.

You let out a slow trembling breath when he was out of sight, closing your eyes to clear your mind. No. Not again. No dick was worth putting up with that maniac, not even one as magnificent as that one. Slipping from the tub as quick as you could, you hurriedly got yourself wrapped up in your towel, waiting to give Grimmjow enough time to get dressed before you headed back in

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Itadakimasu!" You proclaim happily, hungrily looking at the feast laid out on the table between you. Sweet and salty sauce covered different meats. Boiled, fried and battered, the tender chunks of meat gave off the most mouthwatering smell. The veggies were vibrant and green, seasoned generously and tossed in silky soy sauce. You eagerly picked up your chopsticks, handing the spare pair over to Grimmjow before selecting a particularly succulent looking piece of pork and popping it in your mouth

Juice burst in your mouth with a sweet, Smokey taste covering your tongue. You moaned appreciatively, wriggling happily on your plump pillow. You reached over for your lychee juice, chewing slowed as you watched Grimmjow fumble with his chopsticks, awkwardly holding them at odd angles, unable to get them to pinch

"Have you used chopsticks before?" You asked after you swallowed, sipping happily on your fruity drink. Grimmjow frowned at his chopsticks, fumbling with the wooden instruments. Getting them somewhat secure in his fingers he reached for the same pork you had eaten, growling when the chopsticks crossed uncoordinatedly and the meat fell back onto the plate with a splat in the sauce

"hat wearing pervert showed me once"  the description made you chuckle, two men immediately springing to mind. The fact that captan Kyoraku tended to prefer a liquid diet consisting of his favourite sake, you were leaning more towards Urahara who always had a dirty innuendo on the tip of his tongue. It made you wonder what awful nickname he gave to you, so far you had been graced with "woman" and "bitch", but you assumed Grimmjow was more creative than that. 

"Here," you lean over, adjusting the hold he had on them, "keep this bottom one still, use the top to open and close" You watched as he attempted again, securely gripping the meat, lifting up towards his mouth where it slipped free, rolling a sauce stripe down his exposed torso. Grimmjow growled, snapping the chopsticks in half and chucking them across the room. Impossible bastard

He glared at you, daring you to say something. Rolling your eyes you set down your own chopsticks, choosing instead to use your fingers to sample the next dish, some salty green beans. They crunched loudly in your mouth as you held his eye contact. His lip curled up at the corners before digging in, shovelling food into his mouth with much less grace than you had.

You had spent the following twenty minutes in near silence, save from explaining what certain dishes were and encouraging Grimmjow to try some of the veggies. The salty beans he enjoyed. The broccoli he did not. You laughed as he noisily spat it back out, thankfully landing in one of the already empty bowls

"that's fucking disgusting". He grimaced, reaching for the sake bottle and drinking hurriedly to get rid of the taste. You popped a piece of broccoli in your mouth, one that hasn't already been chewed and spat back out,enjoying the slight crunch of the steamed vegetable,

"don't be a baby, broccoli is good for you"

"nothing that tastes like that can be good for you"  He glared venomously at the offending green. Pushing it further away on the table for good measure. You were surprised at how much of the food had been eaten, Grimmjow had one hell of an appetite. You began clearing away the empty dishes, stacking them neatly on the trey ready to be left outside your door and Grimmjow scavenged the last few morsels of meat.

Belly warm and full of food, you glanced longingly at the bed. You felt great, no longer aching thanks to the wonderful hot tub outside, comfortable in your sleep clothes, fuzzy due to the sake. As Grimmjow obscenely sucked off the remaining juices from his fingers, you finish adding them empty bowls to the tray before leaving it just outside your door. You stretch languidly as you made your way to the bed

"Im going to call it a night"  you alert the Espada around a yawn, falling heavily into the mattress and wrapping the blanket around you snugly. The room suddenly plunged into darkness, the lantern that was once illuminating the space blown out with a puff of breath. You couldn't hear where Grimmjow was in the room, his silent feet made no noise on the wooden flooring. As your eyes begin to adjust in the dark, sliver of moonlight penetrating the dark though the small window, you could just about make out his dark silhouette pacing around the room, watching him til you drifted off to sleep.

Grimmjow outed the light, about ready to join you on the bed when your naked form flashed through his memory. The image of you naked, wet from your shower about to plunge into the tubs depths had him suddenly stopping in the middle of the room. The bath and the food had distracted him enough to ignore the undercurrent of his rutting season. Now that he was satisfied, his hunger began creeping back in, the darkness of night heightening his instincts. It was infuriating.

Grimmjow had managed to fight against his instincts his whole life, resisting his urges and taking control of his more primal demands. He was strong, he was powerful, he was in control. The one night he had given in to those urges, the tightly wrapped leash he had on his animalistic urges snapped, giving free reign to the insatiable beast, hungry for his mate.

Mate. That word flickered through his thoughts again. Grimmjow had no mate. Didn't want a mate, he was a lone wolf, depending on no one but himself. He especially wouldn't pick a mate as weak as you, a shinigami no less. Yet his body vibrated with longing need, muscles bunching, ready to spring out and capture you. You sighed softly, moving around in your sleep. It was a delicate sound, weak, sparking protective instincts he wasn't aware he possessed. It disgusted him. 

Grimmjow growled, low and dangerous. All these new thoughts and feelings were pissing him off. He had decided bitterly that he would just sleep outside, away from you and your bewitching pheromones. After tomorrow, he wouldn't have to see you again. Can get back to what was important, training and fighting. He still owed Ichigo a beating. As his fingers wrapped around the smooth handle of the sliding door, you let out a small whimper, rolling over to your back.

His pupils dilated, elongating to feline slits as his head snapped to your direction. Rational thought clouded by his most primal of instincts, interwoven with rutting season's unrelenting increase of testosterone. His cock hardened in the influx of endorphins, aching to be buried in your tight wet heat. Silently he stalked you, inching closer to your warm smell. He didn't like it as much as when it was fused with his own musk, but it was sweet, tasty.

Lightly he jumped on the bed, landing in a crouch on the balls of his feet, hands spread wide over the soft nest, weight hardly displacing the spongy material. Skin burning, Grimmjow pulled off his jacket, letting it fall where it liked to the floor below. His eyes had no problem seeing in the dark, sharp and focused they studied your face. Relaxed, smooth skin. Your pink lips were parted with soft even breaths. Unaware, unknowing of the presence that loomed over you, hungry, dangerous.

Grimmjow leaned over you, pushing back your hair to expose the angry bite mark left by his own teeth. The sight had his length twitching in the confines of his trousers, engorged and ready to mount. He could feel your jugular vein pulsate in the air, throbbing with blood, hidden beneath your delicate skin as he lowered his head, inhaling deeply at your throat. A steady stream of purr like rumbles echoed in his chest as he licked a hot wet stripe at the side of your neck, tasting the salty bite.

You moaned, tilting your head away from the sensation distrusting your sleep, little crease appearing between your brows. Grimmjow pulled the blanket from you, pushing it to the side. You stir as Grimmjow parts your thighs, manoeuvring to kneel between the gap created. Your eyes flickered open, confused and dazed under the heavy weight of sleep. Uncoordinated limbs push futilely against his hands on your thighs, attempting to brush him off while you gather your bearings

"Grimmjow? What are you..?" Voice thick with sleep, you mumble groggily trying to blink away the sleep. Grimmjow ignored you, dipping his head to smell your clothed cunt, fingers digging under your sleep dress to grip hold of the elasticated waist band off your panties. You jumped back into conciseness, slamming your thighs together, kneeing him harshly in the jaw.

Grimmjow growled, seizing your wrists as you lash out at him, angrily attempting to punch him into sense "what the fuck are you doing?!"  You seething spit the words through clenched teeth. This was beyond acceptable. You knew he didn't always understand what was acceptable to humans, and that he was struggling with his rutting season, but this was too much. "You can't just..!" 

Grimmjow slammed your hands above your head, towering over you menacingly as he pinned you to the bed. Your breath got caught in your throat, pinned in this prerogative position, solid wall of muscle dominating you to submission. "Want you" his lust filled drawl washed over your face, intense eyes trapping you in their hypnotic stare. "Grimmjow" you whisper his name, mind swimming in contradictory emotions.

"Want you" he growled deeper, rolling his hips into you, thick erection prodding against your centre, leaving no room for doubt exactly what he wanted you for. You were angry at his brutish attempt of seduction, rudely awakening you from your slumber. Offended at the way he man handled you, attempting to use your body to stifle his erotic urges. You had offered to help him the previous night, you didn't think you had to elaborate that invitation didn't extend for his whole rutting season.

And yet you felt a gush of liquid surge through your pussy, slick arousal dampening your folds at the feeling of his girth pressing into you. Your body flushed with heat, tingling with excited apprehension of feeling him in you again, bringing you to the most painful pleasure you've ever endured. The strong hold he had on your wrists, the masculine, husky tone in which he confessed his desire for you lit a flame of desperation in your stomach.

Your body was betraying your indignant thoughts, coming alive in his hold. You had gone months without the thrill of sex, but one taste and your resolve crumbled, body reacting to his uncouth stimulus, craving intimacy, the burning drag of being so completely filled, the blinding pleasure as you orgasmed.

You saw a shimmer of uncertainty flash on his face as the silence prolonged between you. He began to shiver, seemingly clinging to the control he had. His forehead leaned forward to touch your own, shakily panting over your face "say yes" his eyes screwed shut in concentration, restraint rapidly reaching the edge of his control "say yes" he pleaded desperately, hands tightening on your wrists, hips slowly rolling, dragging his cock against your centre.

You knew in that moment that If you refused, he would rip himself from you. He would leave the inn, create as much space between you as he physically could, so not to do something to hurt you. "Yes". You whisper, nodding your head softly under the weight of his own.

Grimmjow sighed in relief, giving you a look you couldn't decipher. He nuzzled almost tenderly in the side of your neck, lavishing the skin with little kitten licks. He stroked his cheek against your own, firmly smoothing his skin over your cheek, your neck. He was scent marking you, desperate attempt to get you smelling as strongly as his own scent and for as long as possible. It wasn't detectable by shinigami, but any hollow nearby would immediately pick up the scent for what it was. A warning, possessively claiming, and to braver, or less intelligent beings, a challenge.

The alpha in Grimmjow basked in the scent, in the claim. You were his, completely his. "Mine" Grimmjow muttered into your neck, inhaling deeply his own scent left on your skin. His hands released your wrists, dragging them down the length of your arms held in place by the weight of his look. His large hands smoothed their way over your covered breasts, down your stomach to grip hold of the hem of your covering. Your hands shot down, holding his own hands gently

Grimmjow snapped his head up to look you in the face, warning glaze filling his eyes. You squeezed his hands reassuringly, prying them off your gown to roll it up your body yourself. You didn't want Grimmjow to rip apart every article of clothing you owned. He watched predatorily, hungrily taking in every new inch of skin you revealed. Pulling it over your head, you offer a small smile, praise for his patience.

Your thumbs hooked into your panties, lifting your ass to slide them down your legs, dropping them to the floor safe away from his grasp just incase temptation became to strong. They were your last clean pair after all. With your cunt uncovered the smell of your arousal was overpowering, filling the space between you. Grimmjow could taste it in the air, mouth salivating at the memory.

Grimmjow lowered himself between your legs, anxious to lap at your juices. His nose brushed though the manicured hair sat atop your pussy, musky scent making his head swim deliriously. He nipped at your mound, teasing his sharp canines over your flesh. He had enough hold on his consciousness to resist sinking them in, leaving another mark claiming you as his own.

While it was extremely tempting, he knew how bitchy you were and he didn't want you to change your mind now that he had you open and willing. He started running his tongue through your folds, the first taste of your sweet nectar exploding over his taste buds. Your inner walls were silky, his tongue glided across the hot flesh effortlessly.

Grimmjow had always had exceptional senses. Sight, smell and hearing were perfectly honed to hunt, giving him an advantage in battle. When in his rutting season however, they heightened drastically, everything sharpening and focusing to near perfect clarity. Grimmjow could feel every tiny hair on your body, every minuscule vibration you gave. He could hear your blood pumping through your veins, your lungs pulling in deep, desperate breaths.

Your soft moans ignited something within him, the wet squelch of his tongue as it delved in your depths pulling more of that addicting juice from you, sinfully hardened his aching cock. He could smell the salty sweat appearing on your body, the heady, sweet tang staining his lips. Every sense was hyper focused on you, every move, every smell, every taste. Eating you out was quickly becoming something he enjoyed doing. He had never wasted time with this before, hollows and arrancars had no need for preparation.

Grimmjow was a quick learner. For never having heard about foreplay before, he was doing a pretty damn good job at pulling lustful moans from your lips. His tongue delved in deep, wriggling the appendage over all he could reach, rolling over the sensitive pleasure spots that had you panting. Steadily building you up closer to the blissful release you so desperately craved.

His fingers dug painfully into the soft flesh of your thighs, keeping them open obscenely wide, spreading your lower lips to accommodate his face pushing into you. Everything about Grimmjow was rough, from the way he talked and fought to the way he mated. It was all brutal, efficient. No easing you into it or soft touches. The way your body was writhing at his transgressions, you couldn't say you minded all that much.

Grimmjow's cock protested at being neglected, throbbing constantly at the lack of stimulation. His cock head was leaking onto the bed beneath him, a steady stream of his salty essence searching for a bitch to impregnate. Grimmjow grunted into your Cunt, angrily thrusting his tongue into you. His instincts were demanding he mount you, rip through your tight walls and slather your insides with his seed.

His inner beast was was getting impatient, battling to take control of Grimmjows consciousness and rut into his mate. Grimmjow moved his attention from your core to that little bump that had you practically screaming the last time. He shoved two of his thick fingers into your channel, roughly punching them into you. He could feel your walls quivering, steadily stretching around his intrusion, opening up ready for his cock.

A pleasure filled scream ripped from your mouth, you quickly stifled the noise with your hand, biting onto your curled fingers. Your hips bucked mindlessly into him, chasing the painful pleasure. A steady stream of moans and strained curses, muffled around your fingers drowned out the sinfully lewd noises being forced from your dripping pussy.

You could feel the band about to snap. All the tension building up, pushing you to brink ready to cave in in one glorious explosion of relief. Grimmjow growled into your mound, furious at the cries he earned being smothered. He wanted to hear them, deserved to have them. He moved his head to your thigh, sinking his teeth into your flesh while simultaneously using his free hand to wrench away the fingers dampening your vocalisation.

The burst of hot pain pushed you over the edge, band snapping painfully as it thrusted you into an intense orgasm. Hand held tightly at your side, you moan unrestricted into the room, hoarse and raw as pleasure consumed you. You sprayed your release over Grimmjows furious fingers, clamping down tightly over his digits. Grimmjow ripped them from you, shoving them into his mouth to taste the delicacy coating his fingers.

He rumbled deep in his chest, powerful and dominating as he sucked his fingers clean, watching with predatory eyes as you flopped weightless into the mattress, gasping for breath. Your eyes were screwed shut, chest heaving with every pull of oxygen into your starved lungs. Your legs twitched periodically around him as they slumped to the side.

Once your taste had fully left his fingers, Grimmjow gripped your hips, lifting your ass to rest on his folded legs and thrust into you in one fluid motion. Your back arched painfully at the burning breach, gasp caught in your throat choking you. It wasn't as painful as the night before, but still burned through your walls with the overwhelming stretch needed to accommodate his girth.

Grimmjow growled at the vice like grip encasing his cock, squeezing hotly around his sensitive length. Holding your hips in a bruising grip, Grimmjow pulled you onto his cock as he thrusted into you. His eyes were fixed to where you joined, watching as your cunt swallowed his length with every snap of his hips. It was hot and wet, impossibly tight, squeezing around him with rippling clenches

Grimmjow rocked into you with such bruising force that you struggled to take a deep breath. You gasped weakly around uncontrollable moans, hands twisting up the pillow beneath your head in an attempt to anchor you to earth. You've never experienced such consuming pleasure before you had met Grimmjow. He forced you to feel every powerful inch of his cock, the rest of the world dimming into the background

You we're somewhat aware of the fact you weren't alone, sharing the full in with multiple occupants. When Grimmjow increased his speed, rutting into you in a crazed frenzy, you had just enough thought to turn your head and bite into the pillow, muffling your screams. When Grimmjow caught the noise of your muffled cries, his head snapped up, enraged glint in his eyes. He wanted to hear you, wanted to hear his mate scream out at getting fucked raw on his cock.

With a demonic growl, Grimmjow moved his hands from your hips to your waist, yanking you upright to sit on his lap. He glared at you, chest heaving with indignant frustration. "Louder" he growled into your face, accentuating his point with a rough thrust up. You choked on your gasp, new position had him breaching you further. Eyes rolled into the back of your head as you clung onto his wide shoulders, nails digging in little half Cresent indents into his skin

"there's other people here, Grimmjow" you whisper, trying to explain your reluctance in a way that wouldn't send him into a fit of rage. "I don't want to.." you were cut of mid sentence by another rapid roll of his hips

"don't fucking care. Scream. My. Name". Your head lolled forward onto his shoulder, groaning loudly at every brutal thrust he used to strengthen his command. Your mouth hung open, drool dripping from your parted lips, unable to make a sound at his movements. It was too much, too full, too everything. The head of his cock rutted against your cervix with every snap of his hips. His nails dug into your ass as he pushed you into every stroke. He was pushing you to your absolute limit, body not made to accustom such an intimidating appendage.

Grimmjow set a punishing pace, using the string muscles in his thighs to easily plow into you. Soft whimpers and incoherent words of praise were muttered into his sweat soaked skin, moans steadily increasing in pitch and volume. "Grimmjow" the way you moaned his name, tongue lavishly drawing out every syllable, had him going crazy with desire "too much, too big". Your soft complaints did nothing but light a proud fire in his chest

"You can take it"  he darkly told you, licking a wet stripe over your cheek. You didn't know that you could. The knot started forming in the middle of Grimmjows cock, bulging from his length and adding extra texture against your walls. It was almost unbearable, the ridged band rolling against your beaten Cunt. Grimmjows thrusts became short and fast, no longer able to pull out from your abused pussy. The added stimulus made you soar, rapidly reaching your final, explosive orgasm.

"GRIMMJOW" you scream out his name, lost in the crashing wave of euphoria as you came hard. You bit into his shoulder, arms wrapped under his arms to claw at his back, nails leaving deep, angry red marks that had Grimmjow groaning. The feeling of your cunt as you came was indescribable. Gripping his cock in unrelenting waves that rippled over his length.

"Yessss" Grimmjow hissed, finally getting the reaction he had been craving. He held your sagging body tightly to his chest, frenziedly rutting into you with erratic, jerky movements, chasing his own need. Your teeth left him, panting wetly over the stinging mark, hands weakly sliding down his back as your body was sapped of the last of your energy. You rocked with his motions, whining softly at his hurried pace.

"Mine" Grimmjow whispered, nudging your face with his nose, getting you to sleepily turn to face him, Grimmjow stared into your eyes as he came, knot snapping painfully with a fiery rush of his seed shooting from him, painting your walls in thick ropes of his ejaculate. His hips slowly rocked into you, milking every last drop from his cock as he grunted sedated. As he came down from his high, body shaking with the exertion he exhibited.

He felt you slump in his arms, passing out from the overwhelming encounter. Grimmjow held you close, rubbing his scent over your cheek and hair, lightly purring in contentment. When the pull of sleep threatened to blanket him in it's inky darkness , Grimmmjow carefully manoeuvred you both on the bed, taking precautions not to jostle his cock in you too much and risk causing damage. He laid on his back, with you draping over him lifelessly, even breathing washing over his neck.

Grimmjow reached over for the blanket, snagging the corner and dragging it over. He managed to throw it over you, too tried to try arrange it to fully cover you both, leaving his feet sticking out in the open. His arms snuck under the blanket, wrapping them around you, hugging you to his chest as he sighed contently. The steady puffs of air from your breathing, ghosting over the bite mark you left on his shoulder guided him to sleep, happily falling victim to slumber while breathing in his scent mixed with your own.

[sorchathered]

Sacred New Beginnings- Chapter 8

A/N- thank you guys so much for being patient with me, I know that cliffhanger shook everyone up but I promise your patience will be rewarded!

Pairing- Jake Seresin x Reader (OC Stormy)

Warnings- injuries, cursing, smut

Song inspo- “Like I’m gonna lose you” - Meghan Trainor

It had been nearly 6 weeks since your accident, ejecting over the ocean in an aircraft during a dogfight which resulted in your shoot not properly deploying, sending you spiraling towards the ocean at a speed that thankfully didn’t kill you or your pilot. The emergency team that life flighted you to Maryland had to sedate you heavily to manage your pain, so excruciating that it required what the doctor had called a medically induced coma. Broken collarbone, broken left wrist, fractured femur and a gnarly concussion that had you out for several days, waking up alive certainly not what you were expecting; the first thing that caught your eyes was the golden blonde hair and green eyes of the man you loved. Jake had been there through it all, every sleepless night, surgery, pt until you were finally released to go back to your home in Pensacola. You knew your godfather had facilitated some sort of miracle to allow Jake so much time away from his job and for that you couldn’t be more grateful, Uncle Beau couldn’t be your support team so he made sure you had everything you needed.

You were exhausted, the plane ride had been painful and as much as you’d tried to put on a brave face Jake could tell you were suffering, he got you inside and settled in bed and refused to let you do anything other than rest, you knew he had to be running on fumes but if he was he didn’t show it. You weren’t wrong, he was wrung out both emotionally and physically but if he stopped pushing forward he knew he’d break down, there had been nights when you were sedated that he worried you wouldn’t get through it and having to face life alone without you was too much for his heart to bear. Now that he had you home and safe he couldn’t imagine going back to North Island, let alone watching you get back into your jet, the thought sent a shudder through him; losing you was never something he’d imagined before all of this but now it consumed his every waking moment. It wasn’t healthy, and he was a bad liar so he knew you could tell he was fraying at the edges, your doctor had suggested that it would be beneficial for you both to do therapy together or separate and he was sure that was an option that needed to be explored. He started a load of laundry and as the clothes swirled in the washer he scrolled through his phone to find admiral Simpsons number, maybe requesting a transfer could give him the peace he needed to sleep at night.

A week goes by, pt is going well, your godfather has extended Jake’s leave once again but his request for transfer was denied (which you expected and told him at least 1,000 times you didn’t need him to move across the country to babysit you), but you could tell his nerves were shot. when you woke up most nights he wasn’t in the bed, usually in the living room reading or watching tv, sometimes on a run that would last for hours. Therapy hadn’t been easy the first session, you’d rehashed the drama of your crash and had ended it in tears, you’d been assured it would get easier but it felt like it never would, especially with the walls it felt like Jake was building around you. He treated you like glass and it was becoming more and more frustrating, he didn’t want to talk about what was going on in his head, he definitely wouldn’t sleep with you and all you’d gotten were a handful of kisses and hand holding since you’d come back to Florida. It felt like he was pushing you away and that was what you knew would push you over the edge, injuries you could heal from but losing him? That would destroy you.

Jake of course is clueless to your fears, he is just pushing through each day trying to make sure you are healthy and getting better, the thought hasn’t even occurred to him that he’s been distant, how could he be? He’s with you all the time! But when he gets back from his nearly 10 mile run the tension he hadn’t noticed is palpable, you’ve somehow showered and changed without him and when he catches your eyes from your spot on the couch he knows you are ready for a fight. He’s seen that look over a dozen times but never aimed at him, the storm is raging in your features, jaw clenched and eyes red rimmed with tears; you’ve been crying and somehow it’s his fault.

“Baby what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Why didn’t you wait for me? You shouldn’t be doing anything by yourself-“ he started but you waved your hand dismissively and continued to scowl and tear up, he didn’t know what was going on but whatever he’d done he would get on his knees and beg for forgiveness if he had to. “I’m not hurt, I managed to take my brace off to shower and put it back on by myself, that’s not the problem. The problem is us.” You said the last part in almost a whisper as you burst into tears, you’d never been much for crying when you were upset but everything had gotten so overwhelming and you couldn’t get your thoughts together, Jake surged forward to scoop you up and it didn’t matter that he was sweaty and gross you needed his touch more than you could say. You clawed at his skin and gasped out as you tried to stall your tears, pulling at his face to kiss you and he reciprocated but continued to hold you as gently as possible, afraid to jostle you too much and hurt your leg. Your eyes looked wild as he pulled you back a little to calm you down, but you kept clinging to him and trying to pull him closer, he didn’t want to stop but the fear of hurting you was prevalent so he pulled back completely and stood up, only to be met with another round of tears. “Hey hey, you gotta talk to me sugar I don’t understand what’s going on? You’re scaring me baby, just tell me what it is and I’ll fix it ok?” You looked at him and huffed like a petulant child and he almost laughed but knew it would only make it worse, something was eating you up and he didn’t have a clue where to start. “I don’t understand how you don’t get it, you’re doing it to me right now! You’re pushing me away, I’m not made of glass Jake! You’ve barely touched me since we got home, it’s like you don’t even want me anymore and I can’t stand it!” You wailed out and he had never felt more idiotic in his life. He had been so focused on your recovery that it had never even occurred to him that you would want him like that right now, but of course you did; you needed him physically just like he always had when things were hard and somehow he’d completely missed it. You were still sniffling as he ran his hand over his face and chuckled, which made you scrunch your face up angrily at him because how was this funny? He had been acting like an ass, of course he’d done everything to be your caretaker but damnit you wanted your boyfriend.

“Oh sweet thing I’m so sorry, I really have been stupid huh?” He said as he stepped back into your space and wiped your tears with his thumbs. “I didn’t realize, baby, can I fix it? Take you to bed and show you how sorry I am?” You nodded furiously and put your hands out for him to scoop you up, letting him carry you down the hall to the bedroom as you kissed his face and neck, running your hands through his sweaty hair and down his shoulders. He still treats you like your fragile, but it’s in the form of soft touches and gentle kisses placed all over your body as he removes your clothes, there’s a reverence in the way he loves you, you’d missed the intimacy of being with him so much it hurt, and now that he knew what you needed you knew he’d give you everything. He could tell you were irritated by the leg brace, couldn’t quite get close to him the way you wanted, you were terrible at hiding it with your furrowed brows and frustrated huffs as you tried to gain leverage and push up against him. He stilled you with a hand on your hips and kissed you sweetly on the forehead trying to smooth away the irritation. “You’re so stubborn, lay still and be a good girl ok baby girl I’m gonna get you there I promise, be sweet for me like I know you can.” You huffed out again but did what he asked, watching as he kissed down your torso and hitched your good leg over his shoulder, you were already so wet and gasping for him but he was going to draw this out as long as possible, you said you needed him to touch you so he would until you couldn’t take it anymore.

He was so damn lucky, and he knew it. He could’ve lost you, missed out on moments like this, watching you come undone for him as he tasted you over and over again until you were a crying mess, taking you to the precipice as you writhed and begged for him to let you cum, but he wouldn't let you just yet, white knuckling the sheets and sobbing his name, pussy leaking all over his hands and mouth as your beautiful eyes rolled back, it was heaven on earth being with you like this and he’d never take it for granted. You were positive that you’d come out of your own skin if he didn’t let you come soon, pulling at his hair and pleading him with wasn’t working, and soon you were too far gone to even do that, just letting little noises out as you rolled your head back and forth and gasped his name, and finally he pulled away from you, climbing back up your body to sloppily lick into your mouth, he was covered in you and it was sinful, you couldn’t stop bucking into him and squirming and he just chuckled as he groped your chest and kissed your neck. “Jake- I get it ok, I was being a brat just- just please please fuck me, need it oh fuck please please” you couldn’t stop babbling even as he began to glide his cock through your slick, and he slid into you with no resistance, your body so wound up that you couldn’t stop, immediately clamping down on him and succumbing to your orgasm. He growled into your neck at how good you were, continuing to fuck you through it as you gushed all over him and onto the sheets, he’d been so turned on by edging you that he was hopeless to hold back his own orgasm, thrusting into you hard a few times and spilling into you, both of you sweat slicked and sated, finally feeling like maybe you’d made it through the worst of this season of life.

You’d fallen asleep shortly after, going in and out as he cleaned you up and tucked you in, promises to come back after he started the laundry. You knew it hadn’t been long because the sun was still out but when you woke his side of the bed was still made and cold, so you hobbled down the hall until you could hear him talking to someone on the phone. “I know Mama, she’s gonna be alright but I don’t know how to leave her, I’m scared to death to let her out of my sight let alone in her jet again. Yeah, they’re sending me back next week, I’m gonna do everything I can to make things easier but- I don’t know mama I can ask if she wants the company, she’s got an extra room but I don’t want to overwhelm her, I just want to keep her safe.” You could hear the rawness in his voice, and your heart broke, you weren’t ready to be without him either but he had to go back, you’d already been given too many favors and the navy wasn’t likely to give anymore. “Jake” you called to him and he fumbled with the phone and swiped his eyes, looking up at you with the saddest smile you’d ever seen. “Tell your mama I’d love to have her here, you’re right I could use the company and we are definitely overdue for the girl time.” There it was, his thousand watt smile you fell in love with, he crossed the room to scoop you in his arms and you could see the relief on his face. You swiped the phone from his hand and laughed, “Hey Mama Leigh, how about we order you that plane ticket? We’ve got all sorts of catching up to do, and you can fill me in on all Jake’s most embarrassing stories.”

Leigh Seresin was the very picture of a southern grandma, styled blonde hair and perfect makeup, but none of the catty attitude, just warmth and kindness. When you and Jake picked her up from the airport she pulled you both up into a hug, fussing at you for not using your crutches and producing a big container of homemade chocolate chip cookies. She reminded you so much of your grandmother in so many ways, she wasn’t pushy but she wouldn’t let you lift a finger, making sure you were settled and then ushering Jake into the kitchen to help her make dinner as you dozed on the couch. She knew you were the one for her son, could see it on his face months ago when he’d admitted that you two were together, she wasn’t surprised one bit, she’d known for years that he had a thing for you and eventually you two would figure it out. Checking to make sure you were still asleep she dug through her never ending coach bag (Jake always called her Mary poppins because she seemed to have everything) and produced a small velvet box. “You said you wanted me to give this to you when you were ready, and I know right now may not be the right time but son one day it will be. She’s the right one sweetheart, I can feel it in my bones.” There inside the little green box was the thing he’d dreamed about putting on your finger from that very first weekend, Grandma Seresin’s vintage engagement ring. He knew he’d have to wait a little while, let you heal up all the way and see where your career took you but holding it in his hand and watching you sleep on the couch he couldn’t help but feel like everything was falling into place.

Jake Seresin masterlist

Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @roosterforme @attapullman @bobgasm @djs8891 @mygyn @pinkdaisies9285 @mrsevans90 @seitmai @jessicab1991 @shanimallina87 @dizzybee03 @86laura11 @its-the-pilot @jostan456 @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @kmc1989 @nouis-bum @dempy @floydsglasses

[foundfamilynonsense]

I’m gonna just throw this out before it happens:

Even if Sabine somehow “unlocks” the force through hard work, the Jedi were STILL RIGHT to only recruit force sensitive children.

There has only been one episode of Sabine learning to be a jedi so far. Look at how terrible of a time she’s having. She’s making zero progress, and we know she spent a long time with Ahsoka before quitting because she was making no process.

Why is she putting herself through all this grief with no reward? No idea. That’s another post.

But the point is Ahsoka isn’t even teaching Sabine what younglings were usually taught. She’s not trying to get Sabine to deflect blaster shots (bc she’d never be able to) and she’s not trying to teach Sabine how to move things with her mind (bc she’d never be able to). It’s just lightsaber lessons. Something Kanan taught Sabine already just as a Mandalorian wielding the dark saber. Sabine would be doing so much worse if she was in a normal youngling group.

Sabine has only gotten this far because she is a natural warrior. And she still already quit once. Ahsoka’s really not helping at all. She’s just telling Sabine to “feel it”

And sure! The other jedi masters did that. But they did that knowing that their students actually had a natural ability to feel the force!! Their students knew what they were trying to feel.

For someone who went through the public school system with dyslexia I honestly felt so frustrated and bad for Sabine last episode. Ahsoka and Huyang are telling her to do things she just has no ability to do. At least Huyang is being honest with her about why.

There is nothing more frustrating when you’re struggling and someone tells you to just. Do it better. Huyang and Ahsoka are not giving her any real instruction. Bc there is no instruction. There is no shortcut like there was with reading.

But unlike me and reading, Sabine does not have to be a jedi. She does not have to learn how to use the force. So why is Ahsoka putting her through this? Why is she putting herself through this?

Imagine if the Jedi order did that with little kids? Kids who may not have the option to quit like Sabine did? That would so so terrible for them. It’s already terrible for Sabine. How long did Sabine try the first time around? How terrible did it get, not making any improvement for so long, before she quit the first time? She doesn’t have to be a jedi. If you’re not force sensitive there’s no reason to force it. (Hehe, get it? Force it?)

If Ahsoka wanted a padawan she should have found someone force sensitive and trained them. Honestly this whole thing feels like a cruel joke on Sabine: someone who works hard and is naturally talented at many other things.