#this is probably the meanest I’ll ever be

[funhouse-mirror-barbie]

Angel Dust: The reason I use substance abuse to self-destruct is so I can forget how much I hate myself…I hope if I let myself get hurt and high enough I’ll hit a breaking point, and my abuser will eventually just leave me alone.

Husk:

[2knightt]

HII!! could you write the gang with a reader that has an rbf and seems really intimidating/unapproachable but is a sweetheart? they arent very talkative and seem very cold but their love language is acts of service/gift giving & sorta quality time?? <33

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ pretty as a vine, sweet as a grape. ⋄ 𓍯

…REQUESTED: you never judge a book by it’s cover. especially when it comes to y/n!

tags/warnings: people being judgy asf/spreading rumours, gang defending reader with their soul, reader is a softie i fear, reader is kinda shy, probably stupid:3c, steve threatening a manLMFAO

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ READER IS SO ME CODED HELLO also if two-bits part sounds stupid it ‘s because i’m high rn and even if can admit it’s a little iffy

—

dallas winston

thought of you as someone to be threatened by at first ngl

he heard of this scary, mean mugged, tuff looking girl and went ‘mh. an enemy🐺😒’

he went up to you one day, acting all tuff and shit just for you to look him up and down and nervously wave

look, he may not be the smartest cookie but he can see someone shy a mile away. and when he seen you wave, he felt like such an ass LMFAO

did he show it? no. obviously.

this is dallas. he’s an asshole.

“little miss tough girl, huh?”

“…pardon?”

that teasing from him DID continue until you walked away because dallas is the type to never back down, even when he’s wrong

expect for the next time you met him!!!!

he was actually asking you your name, where you’re from, etc, etc!!!

turning a new leaf dare i say…

and everything after that was history! cutest scary looking couple ever!

HE THINKS IT’S SOOO FUNNY THAT PEOPLE ARE SCARED OF YOU LMFAOOO

he plays into it sm if someone brings it up bro

“y/n? like..scary y/n?”

“yeah, like scary y/n. and i’ll get ‘er on ya if you keep talkin’ ‘bout her.”

“oh!😰”

he thinks it’s so silly to see you look really pissed off when he isn’t around just to greet you and see your whole demeanour change!!

dallas thinks it’s so cute😭 it’s like one of his favourite things about you!

“😠😒”

“hey, baby.”

“oh! hi, dal!<3”

LMFAO IMAGINE SOMEONE SEEING YOU, A MEAN LOOKING GIRL, SHOPPING FOR MENS LEATHER JACKETS

yuppp spoil that dickhead!😫 he lovelovelovesss getting gifts, ESPECIALLY from u!!!

if you’re clingy, i feel like he wouldn’t mind it. he teases THE FUCK out of u tho!😊

“big tough girl wants to hold hands, eh?”

“…yea😞.”

“awh, look at ya. come ‘ere.”

johnny cade

you might think he’d be scared and intimidated, right? but NO! he’s literally bff’s with ponyboy, he knows damn well what rbf is!

you two are sooo cute together

little kicked, scared puppy with his feral doberman!!!

tells people to stfu whenever they try and spread rumours that you’re scary, mean, and rude.

“you’re dating y/n? don’t you know she-“

“i don’t care, shut up. ‘s not like you know her😒.”

sometimes refuses your gifts.

johnny’s not used to them :( but all u gotta do is say please and flutter your lashes and u got em!!!!

“i can’t take it.”

“please?😞”

“…okay😣.”

and he DOES NOT regret it! he might fight you at first, but he cherishes those gifts with his life<3!

loveloveloveLOVESSS having u around constantly!! since your love language is quality time, you two are always hanging out together.

and, with your scary looks, you often keep the socs away from him!

hip-hip, hooray‼️‼️

the gang was like…worried for johnny at first.

THEY DIDN’T KNOW U WERE COOL THO😭😭💔💔💔

they were all like, “??seriously, johnny?? you pick the meanest girl?? ever???” and johnny was QUICK to defend. “y’all ain’t even meet her, and you’re already sayin’ she’s bad for me?”

when they did though, they were like ‘ohhhh….she really isn’t rude…..oh….’

HE’S SO PROUD TO DATE U THO LMFAOOO

and to know the real you?? treats it like an HONOUR

ponyboy curtis

was intimidated by you.

forgot he was also like you and accidentally glares at people who walk past him LMFAOOOO

You two are like two peas in a pod istg!!

“you look mean from far away,”

“???so do you, pony??”

“…no??”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ‘NO’?”

mean looking couple who are truly just a bunch of nerds deep down to their soul<3

the gang was a little protective of ponyboy until they realized ur just like him LMFAO

They get having an rbf<3

pony loves spending time with you!

gift him a book and he’ll love you forever!!! (maybe even read it to you when you two are finally alone to help you fall asleep🤍)

he’s such a cutie…..

stays close to you in public because he thinks you’re scarier looking than anyone he’s ever met😊😊.

“cm’ere,”

“why?🤨”

“BECAUSE🙄!”

SCARY DOG Y/N IS REAL.

glares at anyone who goes around telling people that you’re mean and rude.

if looks could kill, they’d be dead already!!!

ponyboy does not fuck around with u i fear.

Sodapop Curtis

LMFAOOO GREEK GOD OF A MAN WITH HIS PISSED OFF GF WHO IS NERVOUSLY HOLDING HIS HAND !!!

he was NOT afraid of you!! in fact, he thought the rumours of you being an asshole were all fake

“you talkin’ about y/n?”

“yes, bro! they’re so rude-“

“how do you know?”

“well, i don’t-“

“so, shut up?😒”

cuz like??? did they not bother to understand you???

soda literally made it his mission to prove that you weren’t a dick!!😭😭

and GODDAMN HE WAS SO RIGHT

you’re such a sweetheart to soda! he lovesss telling people about how cute you are around him since it’s his own way to squash the rumours.

“my y/n is so sweet, you wouldn’t get it.”

“isn’t she the same girl who beat the soc to a pulp?”

“she can barely kill a fly.”

you don’t need to do much to scare off the girls that flirt with him at the DX, just a nice little glare every now and then and they’re already gone!

(soda doesn’t have to know that you play into the rumours sometimes. it’s our little secret.)

steve randle

HATES EVERYONE WHO TALKS ABOUT YOU

he’s petty AS FUCK LMFAOOO

they can’t handle the randle😜💯

“ew, y/n-“

“MAN, GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY FACE WITH THAT WHAT DO YOUUU KNOW ABOUT Y/N🗣️‼️”

that was an over exaggeration but you get the point.

gets very defensive when people try and ‘warn’ him about you lmfao

gift him a tool box and he’ll use it until it’s literally falling apart at the bolts<3

no seriously. it could be holding on by one screw and he’ll still use it. he doesn’t gaf. steve will use anything u give him.

he accepts ur rbf cause he thinks it’s SO FUNNY?? like he’ll see you far away with your friends looking all angry before one of them says a really funny joke and just watches your expression change so quickly

one of his fav things ever<3!

two-bit mathews

he makes so much jokes about it LMFAOOO

“jesus, y/n! you sure yer glare ain’t the thing that killed the dinosaurs?”

—

“swear i see the devil in yours eyes sometimes. it looks soooo good on you, though🤭🤭”

HE THINKS ITS SO ATTRACTIVE

and he lovesss your sweetheart side sm it’s like he gets best of both worlds

RAHH GIFT TWO-BIT MICKEY PLUSHIE OR ELSE

He’d totally have it on his bed 24/7. his sister has tried to steal it before to scare him btw.

skmetimes just to spend time together with him—you just go walking around town with him while he has an arm around your shoulder the whole time<3

[eumivrse]

warning(s) pure angst, jjk chapter 120 SPOILERS

arguments with kento are always the worst.

you’ve learned over the years that you’d probably prefer it if he would just scream back when he’s mad rather than being dead silent.

because when he’s angry, he doesn’t speak. he just gives you space to cool off, then he always makes sure to kiss you before you sleep. a way to let you know that tomorrow is a new day and he still loves you the same even if things are heated; that you can always talk it out with him.

you hate it because he always, always apologizes first even if it’s your fault sometimes, but you always appreciated his way of communicating. it’s as if he would rather take the jab every time than have you mad at him.

however, he couldn’t do so that day— october 31, 2018. he had to go to shibuya and left with tension between the two of you. you don’t even remember what exactly you argued about— all you recall was that it ended with you both saying something that could’ve easily passed as unforgivable, words specifically chosen to wound each other’s feelings.

and as per, kento gave you your space and left with you having the last word.

except you never got that good night’s kiss.

when news reached you, you didn’t even react. how could you? the last words you said to him was “then leave already,” with the coldest, meanest tone you’ve ever spoken to him in.

you just stared at the wall for what seemed like days. people were calling you non stop, but your phone was turned off. you hadn’t even left your shared bedroom. the comforter still had his scent on it and you’re afraid that it’ll disappear if you get up for even a minute and then his passing will feel real.

it wasn’t until ino stopped by to drop off his cellphone— one of the only traces he left that night— that you did something else besides laying down. you stared at kento’s scuffed lock screen, sitting at the dim dining room table.

his wallpaper was a photo of you. he took it while you were eating in the very place you’re sitting in right now and you begged him for days to delete it. he insisted that you looked pretty so you let him be. he’d always been like that, so stern with others but he had such a soft spot for you.

you knew his password because it was your anniversary date, then the messaging app opened as soon as you punched the numbers in. it’s your chat, the last conversation you had on there was him asking if you wanted to eat outside because he was free the next morning and you obliged. that was the night before you had an argument the next day and lunch plans were cancelled.

he had an unsent message— all typed out, but he never pressed the send button for some reason.

he was apologizing for hurting you.

he said that he knows it’s been tough for you these days and how he should’ve seen the signs sooner instead of thinking everything’s okay.

then he apologized again for not being able to kiss you goodnight, and for being a shitty husband that couldn’t tend to his wife’s needs.

the message concluded with “i miss you, my precious girl. make sure to eat and sleep well, i’ll make it up to you soon.”

kento’s death hadn’t hit your reality until those words on the screen registered in your mind. your dry, pale lips from barely drinking water trembled, eyes welled up in tears for the first time since you found out. so many different emotions crashed over you in such little time, your chest felt tight and you let go of his phone, clattering onto the wooden table.

“then leave already,” replayed in your mind over and over and the way his face turned pale from your harsh words. with how things turned out, it almost sounded like you were sending him on death’s row and it made you feel like you’re responsible somehow.

guilt loomed over you like a stormy cloud for making him feel like he wasn’t good enough for you and you wonder how different the future might’ve turned out if you’ve at least gave him a hug before he left.

if you could’ve just set your pride aside and kissed him goodbye like he does with you before you sleep.

and if he still loved you the same at his final moments.

[fatesundress]

⭑ life of the party. tom riddle x reader

summary. when one game is ruined, another begins.

tags. explicitly fem afab reader, smut with as minimal plot as i can physically allow myself, minors SCRAMMM, loosely implied hogwarts university au as always, flirting via mutually assured jealousy, impeccable communication skills, established relationship, the guy the reader is talking to gets annoyed she doesn’t want him but he doesn’t do anything, religious undertones that might have accidentally become overtones, party setting (background drinking & general degeneracy), probably the meanest tom i’ll ever write and i still tried making him nice because lots of heavy jealousy tropes are misogynistic icks fo me, fingering, piv, a little degradation but that's life, fawwwk the weeknd but the song this is based on is so sexy, etc

note. Me writing this: nightguard: ON, religious themes: RIFE, shame: ABOUNDING. i am so embarrassed by this. have i mentioned smut doesn’t come naturally to me? i don’t even know how i got here. i’m on heelys at the proverbial skatepark and everyone else apprenticed under tony hawk. Do you understand? ok.

word count. 4.5k

request. yes!

He is what he is. Stoic, sacred, silent and then verbose. You knew he had his fixations before you knew him at all — no one made top of every class without a shadow of obsession to contrast the glint of their excellence — but you could not anticipate how that obsession might translate when applied to a person. You’re not sure he had either.

He is what he is. The muggle world taught him religion and in it he learned only the tenor of devotion. When his fingers take your jaw, trace slow at the stripes of your thighs, steady your hips from under you and hold tight, there’s reverence in it. His kisses don’t wane with the months gone by; they soften with purpose. They rouse with hunger. His eyes don’t waver. Should a good man gaze upon his altar? Should he smile like sin when he gets on his knees? 

He does.

Tom Riddle is what he is and you solemnise in equal part.

You don’t come to these things often, taken aback by the sight of the Slytherin common room in ribbons and banners tattered within the first hour of the night. Bottles glow green in the lake-light on every available surface, scattered about the place and spilled in sticky puddles. 

You’re a wallflower tonight, though not for lack of options. You observe from a comfortable distance the drunken antics of new adults, free to carry their liquor in hand rather than hidden away in pockets and pillowcases. There’s something vaguely entertaining about it, intoxicating where someone else might mind their business and actually get intoxicated, but you see no harm done. Whispers fall on your ears before the rumours make their rounds, couples slink away in the darkness where someone in the crowd might not notice, and the night’s first instance of someone hurrying up the stairs in tears comes barrelling right past you. You invent a story for why to keep yourself busy. 

It’s all just buzz.

Now, if you don’t come often, he certainly doesn’t.

Tonight, he has, and for reasons explicable but few, you’ve found yourselves on opposite sides of the room.

It began on the green couch by the window with a chess set spilled across the velvet — a bet you made with him upon arrival; you find wizard’s chess trite, Tom finds it feckless, but it makes for a good challenge. 

What else could convince a man so perpetually controlled to pour himself a drink? And you imagine, from his perspective: what else could convince a woman so determined to outwit him?

It’s for no nefarious reason — to slight him or see him stumble — but because you love the fractions of relief that colour him, soften him, temper him. It’s because he loves you in every shade, in every pliancy, in each and every fervour. But mostly it’s because you love kindly to best him, and he loves mirthfully to best you.

So you play. The game is slow and teasing, hard to see in the ripples of the lake, and toppled over in the final moves (which you’ll insist you were winning) by the same swaying body that spills its drink down the front of your dress. And so you’re up, brushing your index finger over the corner of Tom’s sudden scowl. You whisper like a joke not to kill anyone but he’s so quick to look like he might that you consider repeating yourself with more conviction.

You poke at the spot where his jaw is tense. “I’ll be right back.”

Drying liquor from lace is a matter of precision even with magic, and this is half-gelatinous like someone raided the kitchen’s supply of jelly and steeped it in something offensively alcoholic. You utilise the clearer light of the Slytherin girl’s lavatory, wetting your dress before evaporating the water from it. There’s the matter then of transforming the stained fabric back to its original colour, and you huff in the mirror at having a game you thought you didn’t care much for ruined so close to its end.

You care about Tom, though. The omphalos of your issue resides there.

(It is fair to say most of your issues reside there.)

With only minutes gone by, the common room crowd looks doubled when you return, and though you wade through you’re pushed back like debris caught in a tide, the bodies more stubborn rubble than you. So you retreat, stand flush at the wall with your arms crossed, and wait for Tom’s eyes to land on yours. To, perhaps, open your mind and let him in, tell him exhaustedly from afar that the game is at rest and you’re ready to leave.

But even he’s hard to find in the bodies unified in breath, flux like a big set of lungs —  and nothing about Tom blurs into the background.

So you wait. You wallflower. You pour yourself a drink.

The moment stretches on longer than anticipated, and after many detached observations of the room, someone else finds you instead. He’s tall, blond to Tom's inkwell black, kissed by summer sun even as autumn soothes its blister. Your gaze wavers back to him a few times though his own is uncertain for all its focus. He seems to be waiting for you to stop, perhaps for the silhouette of someone else to slip by and prove you were looking at them instead. When no one else comes, he traverses the crowd with a straightened inch of pride, stepping through new colours until he’s close enough to you that the light settles emerald-black and you can see the great chasm of his beauty up close. 

His freckles are carefully dusted, his structure strong, all squarish, rugged lines and shades of August.

The chasm is not a lack of allure, per se, it’s just a lack of him. One man’s August to your adherent’s December, the intention of his warmth, a thing that does not come to him like everything else but that he makes and makes and mends when it lapses because he does not want to see you cold. The singular reward of a rarity like that.

“Hi," you say, glancing over a broad shoulder.

“Evening," he responds. He takes you in with a look of (unappreciated) appreciation. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“No, we haven’t.”

He extends a hand. “Oliver Belby.”

“Pleasure.”

You don't offer much in the way of conversation. He’ll vie for your attention regardless of how much of it you offer. So you lean against the wall where the buzz of sound prickles your hair, let him talk, let his hand come up to rest beside your head, and you find Tom.

He’s right where you left him, a new clearing in the crowd making space for your eyes to meet.

His are ice even at a distance. As if you proselytise — as if you could — kneel for another man or let one kneel before you, all of your trysts together faithless.

They aren’t. He must know they aren’t.

But you put yourself here and standing at the target of his gaze has never been marred by the severity of it.

You decide then; when one game is ruined, another begins.

In truth, you can’t deny the element of theatrics in the way Tom denies everyone but you: his soft, penitent smile, the apologetic cant of his head, how his eyes can find you in any crowd and whoever is clinging onto his every word that night will follow his gaze and deflate when they discover you at the end of it. Sometimes it’s harsh. Final. He lacks the patience of pretence. 

Sometimes, the week is dull. Sometimes, the whoever is undeterred. Sometimes you’ve pushed him here. 

No — You’ve never done that before. This is new.

So it’s one of those weeks, and one of those whoevers, on an anomaly you may as well have directed the encounter yourself, and Tom is half-indulgent as he forces his eyes away and you force yours to stay. 

You watch him from across the room as the woman drapes herself across the arm of his chair. There's a furious blush on her cheeks even in the dark, a pretty disarray to her shoulder-length hair, skirts pleated over knees she faces toward him. She smiles and offers him a glass of something, and you know for certain Tom understands this game because he accepts it, eyes flicking back to you as he swirls the glass in contest. 

To that you take an inappreciable sip of your own.

“ — Which is why no one has even attempted to kill one in decades. And capturing one is another thing entirely. My mother works with the Greeks on occasion, and the nearest she came to a den was in the twenties. If she had gone any nearer I wouldn’t be here.”

“Hm?” You look back at the man in front of you. His lips glisten with having licked them between every phrase.

“The manticores,” he says, undeterred.

“Right. Five-X beasts, aren’t they?”

“That’s what I said. I heard from one of my mother’s colleagues that — ”

The woman is whispering something in Tom’s ear, her hair on his cheek. He’s looking at you as if you had said the words. You don't shy away when Oliver leans in to whisper too. It's a strange, fractured language. Too intimate while too detached. Whispers from across the room, desire from another in the place of desire for each other. But the strangeness should not surprise you anymore. This is Tom: beautiful and wicked and the one you chose.

“ — And Nundus are worse. Deadliest creature there is — ”

She’s laughing about something, the woman. Half-reserved, she’s angled toward the party despite her leaning on his shoulder and the dissipating inches of distance.

“ — They stalk in silence. Think of the size of one, right? They’re apex predators… so commanding and still they could be in front of you one instant and gone the next.”

You engage with detached interest. “Really?”

And now Oliver barricades your view, his other hand coming to rest on your other shoulder.

“Do we have any classes together?”

You blink up at him. “No.”

“No, right,” he says, eyes darting to your lips. “I’d remember you.” 

His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and you wonder if for some men one-sided discussions of class five beasts qualify as foreplay.

You place a hand on his chest, eyebrows raised and half a startled smile curled. 

“You’re not going to kiss me," you inform him.

His face falls, but with it, at least, does his hand.

“Did you hear me?"

“It’s loud,” he decides suddenly. “Can we go somewhere else?”

You’re not sure you believe that. 

You duck under an arm and search the crowd again. The woman is on the arm of the chair looking thoroughly dismayed, and for good reason —

Tom is gone. 

Your breath is caught.

“This isn’t… You’re not going to…?”

You flash Oliver with a glare. “So you did hear me.”

He makes a pathetically sad face, and you think: it’s a wonder he made it this far when his courtship evidently hinges on the subject of his affection not listening to a word out of his mouth.

“Goodnight, Oliver,” you say tersely.

“What was that for, then?” he asks, and it comes out practically whined.

“That was talking.”

“But you’re —”

“Belby.”

He is what he is. It shouldn’t surprise you when he appears beside you all fatal rage on a quiet lead, narrowly fixed to you. 

Tom’s cold is his median temperature, yes, but in moments like this it’s as much for you as his handmade warmth. He’d pluck the fingers off a boy like Oliver. The digits would string eaves like icicles.

Oliver is looking between you and Tom like something terrible has dawned on him, hands urged to his pockets to soothe the flames your unveiled ties to a man seemingly singed him with.

“Riddle — Mate, I didn’t… I didn’t know she was…”

Tom’s voice is flat, edged with something that makes his monotony sound merciful. “Pity. If only you knew as much as you talked.”

Oliver’s mouth opens and closes and opens again, but wisely he settles on silence instead of excuses, and wastes no time fleeing slowly into the crowd. 

The instant he's stolen by the wave Tom's eyes are on yours and they’re molten. You move to say something but his patience was for show — he’s dragging you by the arm out of the common room and into one of the dungeon's empty classrooms without giving you the chance.

“Tom —" You start to protest, mouth twisted in a scowl. “Tom, you're being —"

He shuts the door behind you and locks it with such delicacy your breath catches at the question of how badly he's holding himself back right now.

“I'm being what?"

“You're…" It's hard to formulate an answer when he's like this. “It was a game. Don’t pretend you weren’t playing too."

Tom inches in, chest rising with angry breaths. “A game, was it? Did he know that?"

“Did she?” you hiss.

“It certainly became apparent when she was discarded so that I might retrieve you.”

“It was as apparent to Belby, judging by the way he was left gawking.”

“And with great restraint I let him. A mercy I didn’t take his eyes so he was left without the ability.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, now I understand; the problem wasn’t the game, it’s that I played it better than you.”

He looks at you for a long time before casting a silencing charm on the room.

Oh.

Oh — your heart barrels off somewhere. You’re without it for a moment, breathless in the wake of the implication of a spell like that.

“Tom," you say politically, “It was hardly a matter of rescuing.”

He nods imperceptibly. “No, it wasn’t.”

“So we’re in agreement.”

He hums a non-answer.

Each step he takes forward, you take back. It's a peculiar way to have a conversation, but part of the game, you suppose.

Interesting he’s still playing.

You still gasp when you inevitably hit the wall, hands going to the carved edge of a windowsill.

“You’re terrible when you win,” he whispers. His lips brush your ear.

You shudder, mouth dry as you press against his shoulder. “You’re worse when you lose.”

His mouth drags down your jaw but he refuses to kiss you, still withholding something, still holding back in some terrible, electrifying way. Instead one of his hands starts to dip down your side. You shiver as he grazes the skin of your breast, exposed by the cut of your dress, and continues down your waist. His mouth traces your bare shoulder as his tongue makes a slow pass, skin beneath leaping at his careful ministrations.

With long, slender fingers he's pulling your dress off button by button, torturously slow, and you feel mocked to have cleaned it earlier. You feel foolish to have left knowing the night would have ended like this regardless.

“Tom,” you say. His name is followed by staggered breaths. Your fingers are clutching the windowsill.

The air is thick as he watches you, flesh exposed by each undone catch. And still he will not kiss you, even as his lips trail along your collarbone and you start to tug instinctively at his belt. He makes the barest sound of disapproval and spins you to face the window, your hands urged on instinct to press against the glass.

“Tom...”

He hikes your dress up your thighs. It clings to your hips, a meagre two buttons left attached to keep it from falling.

Your wand clatters as his fingers work the clasp of your bra and his teeth skim your shoulder, leaving little bites he laves at softly with his tongue. You shudder, arching into him, searching for friction. His touch traverses the shape of you and stops feather-light between your legs.

“Tom —”

“Quiet," he admonishes, a little tut.

Your skin jumps at the caress of his fingers tracing deceptively timid up your thighs, like he hasn’t done this before, like it’s care and not punishment. His favourite oxymoron: the gentlest torture, the cruelest succour.

His index draws upon the lace of your underwear and tugs it aside with a tenderness that makes you gasp. Is there a way to press harder to the glass without breaking it? Is there ever enough to grab onto when he gets like this — so singularly focused on ruining you? 

One of your hands latches onto the arm half-disappeared in your skirts instead, clinging steadfast to the white of its sleeve, your body swaying as if at sea. He keeps you steady, but this is his crown achievement: that he is all there is that can do it when you’re so singularly focused on being ruined by him.

The sinews of his forearm work imperceptibly under your fingers as he appreciates the newly unfettered flesh, two digits sliding between your legs, and he makes a satisfied sound against your shoulder at the wetness he finds there. 

You’re swallowing air with a moan stuck in your throat; too dry, you realise, and feel like you’re choking when he starts to move, gripping his arm somehow tighter.

As a rule, you know how much he loves this, but it’s tenfold under his jealousy and you think deliriously, probably wrongly, that for how much he enjoys pushing you you enjoy pushing him to get here. You’re his and he’s yours, there’s no doubt in it — but what he can reduce you to — this desperate creature, writhing and panting, trying in vain to satiate herself with a simple finger — this is the translation; the fruition of his fixations put to a person rather than a subject. This is what it is to be his.

Tom’s mouth opens in a smile at your throat, and there it feels more like bared teeth, a smile that is as animal as it is pretty. 

And still he whispers with all the affection of a lover, your name peppered between kisses.

His fingers inch inside you and curl. You’re wedged in the perfect balance of his discrepancy; your disciple and your devil. He worships you in white. He ruins you in it too.

Now his name comes out in a babble, wet, half-drooled. A nip pinches the little space beneath your ear and you clutch impossibly harder to his wrist, your free hand squeaking down the window pane as you grind on his palm. He crooks his fingers against a spot that has you seeing stars, thumb pressed to your clit in a subtle motion, and you feel yourself tip off into an unknown he aquaints you with often. In a blurry, flickering moment, the light gleams somewhere beyond the stained hues of the window. And that should be it. The edge is at your heels and you should be falling. But the sinful press of him at your back commands you to lurch against him, and when you moan for more he pulls his fingers free.

You stumble weakly into his chest, startled.

“What… What?”

“Ask me for it,” he says, his voice hoarse, markedly wanton in spite of himself. But there is hunger and there is greed. There’s a sacrificial lamb and there’s a hunted one— there’s religion and there’s Tom. He invents something that demands greater devotion.

And the sound of leather rasping serge and metal clinking metal reels your conscience in. There are no stars. There’s just him. His belt is coming undone.

“Tom.” You swallow. “I told you —”

“And I want you to ask.” He cups your jaw in his hand, thumb tracing your lower lip. “Nicely.”

Your mouth opens for him and you shiver, pressing further back for contact he doesn’t allow. Instead another small tut is whispered at your neck, relinquished to a kiss.

His finger brushes your teeth when you speak. “I want you.”

You feel him shake his head and you all but whine.

“I want you inside, Tom — need you — please.”

“Please?” he echoes mockingly.

“Please,” you say in an uneven voice, and when your tongue grazes his thumb he eases it further into your mouth with an appeased hum.

And so his zipper comes down and you hold your breath with the weight of your dress at your hips.

He pushes inside you with minimal pause, slow still, to relish the way your little pants hitch, stop, and shudder out in a broken moan; the way your breath is guided by his rhythm, how you’re shaped by him, fitted around him. You careen forward and your palms flatten on the window, trembling at the first thrust. Your fingers quiver down the glass.

Tom pulls you into him on the second, patience abandoned. His lips chase your pulse. His grip on your jaw tightens as his thumb pops free with a string of spit. He nudges deeper at a new angle, your body forced as far as it can lean back, gasping heavenward when your head falls helplessly onto his shoulder.

It’s profane. Your ears almost dull to the sound of his hips snapping against yours, the obscenity of your skin on what he offers of his, but you waver between earth and something else, brought back to him by the torturous sight of the edge he stole you from. Always brought back to him. 

He’s gripping your jaw in one hand as he pushes deeper, and your fingers are lost for purchase on his forearms, trembling to hold onto something.

When he pulls out of you at your brink again, you practically cry out. But you understand when he spins you around again, hiking you up against the windowsill, your shoulders hitting the cool glass with a gasp you barely register in the fog of your desperation. His eyes are dilated to midnight rings. The weight of his desire is frightening. The insistence to claim you better yet.

He wastes no time before slamming into you again, pausing at the hilt to watch your eyebrows wrench together before resuming his pace. When your mouth falls open, he swallows the noise that tries to come out of it.

It doesn’t feel like a kiss. It feels like the prolusion to a bite.

His fervour is all the reminder of how you got here in the first place; the teeth, the force, the grip on your waist. There’s a rough sound he makes in your mouth that you taste more than you hear. The vibration of him is everywhere. You’re too hot and it only occurs to you because your fingers are clawing at fabric instead of skin that he’s fully dressed and your last button has finally snapped, lace pooled on the classroom floor as he fucks you. The thought is consigned to oblivion as quickly as it came. It doesn't matter.

You're clutching at his shoulders, the nape of his neck — trying to kiss him back, but you feel torn in two by the intensity of his ministrations, a low, immolating pressure building in your abdomen. He’s proving something with you, and his is a relentless, unending appetite. You don't really stand a chance. You think you've known that from the start.

Tom is all-consuming. Tom is a force of nature, a whirlwind that sweeps over you. He leaves you breathless and somehow needing more as he wraps his hand around the small of your back and seizes you in place.

Still you find yourself wanting to be held tighter.

“T-Tom —" you sob through the kiss but he doesn't give you enough air to do it. He pushes harder, a rasp at the back of his throat, some carnal thing. He’s not withholding your release now; he’s spurring you towards it.

When he withdraws his lips from yours, his brows are furrowed in concentration. There’s a fine lustre of sweat on his forehead, stray curls pulled across dark, wicked eyes. The sight of him alone is condemnable, but it isn’t for you.

He likes to watch you like this. When your moans dissolve to the torn syllable of his name, again and again. The veneration. Your choked litanies.

You give them to him.

Sleeves drawn up by your body’s baser instinct for skin, you’ve carved a canvas of praise into his arms, marked up to his elbows where your fingers had jerked upward to rake at his back. This time, when you find the cliffside, nothing stops you from teetering off its edge. Flames dance across your skin in an explosion, your collar damp and bitten, your waist in Tom’s vice-like grip. One hard thrust and you’re falling.

The stars are blinding. You decide then they were made by him.

Your head lulls back as shocks of pleasure course through your body, the coil snapped, the hard shape of him inside you demanding impossibly for more. You stumble through the light, vision blurred, praying and praying and praying. His grip comes to find your jaw again.

You keen, addled through the ecstasy, barely conscious of the way his panted breaths hitch at the sight of you in his hands, soft-eyed and puddy.

He always comes apart soon after you, but it happens rarely that your body is so taut on the wire of rapture that his twitching inside you takes you with him. 

This time it does.

You sink against him, thighs numb and wet, one hand slipping dumbly from his figure and swiping across condensation-foggy glass. The second orgasm is an aftershock of the first. It’s slow. It feels like being caught from the last fall. You land in Tom’s arms and they’re holding you through whitened knuckles. His eyelashes flutter, ink-dipped twines of quills, and he steals the shaky sigh from your mouth by pressing it to his.

You kiss lazily and softly. The room feels sheeted in static. The electricity lingers on both of you.

It’s hard not to fall against the window when he slides out of you. You slump on quivering legs into his chest instead, heaving, spend trickling down your legs.

Tom holds you close, adjusting his trousers before sinking down to settle you on his lap. He wipes the sweat from your face and presses his lips to the feverish skin it plastered. Forehead, cheeks, nose, chin, whispers of your name down your jaw like a prayer answered. Your eyelids flutter shut and he kisses you there, too. His lashes tickle.

You love him more than you worship him. You think he likes that more.

He grabs your forsaken dress from the floor and slips it over your bare shoulders, summoning the snapped button back in place before he begins to meticulously clasp the rest together again. His mouth leaves a path at the skin under each one before it closes, and you hum in dizzy gratitude.

“That was,” you say in a very worn voice, “a terrible way to reinforce not making you jealous.”

He glares at you from one of the lowermost buttons and you giggle sleepily, curling a hand into his hair. “Don’t look at me like that. You liked it too.”

He leans back up at that, tipping your chin with his fingers, gaze darting over the wrecked state of you with a pleased gleam in his eyes. “You liked it? What a modest interpretation.”

Now it’s your turn to glare.

He is what he is — pursuit of buttons forgotten as you’re laid down on the moonlit floor to be reminded just how much you liked it.

taglist. @lyis @indimoss @poddzi @esolean @d1anna @maripositanoctruna @mentally-in-northern-italy @ronniemaximoff1234 @moobell55 @jaerang @ramayantika @saltwaterbythesea @acube07 @togenabi @adazito @kitcat334 @blaurghhh @shutupfinn @jaymeeshayden @lilu842 @leaosee @garfunkelworld @definitely-not-captain-america @multiplefandomstan @mangoesareorange [ note: inexplicably, a bunch of my tags aren't working. i tried to fix it but if you didn’t get a notif i’m sorry! ]

[anopenbookunderlockandkey]

The 118 Sauce Chat

Eddie: I definitely make spaghetti sauce extremely wrong but I’m not going to stop

Chim: please elaborate on the wrong way to make spaghetti sauce; it sounds highly entertaining?

Eddie: 1 chop onion and put in a pot

Eddie: Add 1 or 2 cans of diced tomatoes. Whatever makes the ratio of onion look right.

Eddie: Add a ridiculous amount of frozen peas. Peas should make up a notable portion of this sauce.

Eddie: Add frozen corn also if you wanna be real fancy. If I have bacon I’ll ad that too. But I very rarely have bacon.

Eddie: Cook on HIGH

Eddie: While sauce is cooking, grab the nearest bottle of mixed spices that isn't obviously for desserts. Add some. How much? I dunno, enough that you feel like you've added seasoning so it's technically cooking. (For me this is most often a mix called Moroccan, but it could be anything. Buck reorganised my kitchen recently so tonight it was something called Pizza Topping.)

Eddie: If you happen to have green herbs lying around, add those too. Whatever you have on hand that's green

Eddie: Let the sauce boil on HIGH until all the water is gone. Stir occasionally so the saucepan will be easier to clean later. Serve on cooked spaghetti noodles with no cheese

Eddie: Today I added a new step called "while the sauce is cooking, duck out for 15 seconds to text the group chat about spaghetti sauce, then get distracted and forget you are cooking." This adds a novel Extremely Burnt edge to the flavour profile.

Chim: I am not Italian, or of Italian descent by *any* stretch of the imagination.

I am also not one of those "cooking purists", who believes that everything must be done in a specific/ traditional way (unless you are making a cooking video with the title "how to make x" in which case if you don't specify mid video that your way is not traditional god help you).

I am a firm believer in "If it tastes good, then it is correct for you".

Chim: Except in this case

Bobby: This hurts every cooking bone in my body. The latent ancestors in my soul. The judgmental elf in my brain just bit a cyanide capsule

Hen: Why? The spices.

Using a different spice mix every time, based on what is ready at hand just ... hurts

Eddie: *sends SPICE IS SPICE meme*

Ravi: absolutely deranged, Eddie. Food crimes.

Bobby: Hey Eddie, looks like you forgot to mention the part where you obviously sweated the onions, because nobody would make spaghetti sauce that had straight up raw onions boiled in tomato juices.

Bobby: RIGHT????

Bobby: Please Eddie

Eddie: I don’t know what sweating the onions means

Hen: It means. It means you cook em a little in a pan with a bit of oil first

Eddie: A pan? How many dishes do you want me to have to wash here?

Hen: I mean you can also do it in the same pot you're making the spaghetti sauce in! The important thing is the onions get a little cooked before the wet stuff goes in, so they're not so wet and limp and boiled....

Eddie: Honestly this depends entirely on whether I remember to chop an onion first or I find the can opener for the tomatoes first. The ingredients go in in whatever order they go in.

Ravi: Eddie, who hurt you???

Eddie: A pack of wild chefs herded my mother off a cliff

Chim: Theres probably a hit out on you for this

Eddie: What kind of stupid idiot would waste money assassinating someone who's so clearly going to accidentally poison themself for free at some point

Bobby: hi Eddie, big fan of your firefighting, this is the sauce equivalent of the running up a metal ladder in a lightning storm to try to pull up a 6’0” tall man instead of lowering him to the ground

-Athena

Eddie: Athena, that is the meanest review my cooking has ever received

Chim: congratulations you found the worst way to do it! this feels like a spaghetti recipe made by AI before it got really sophisticated

-Maddie

Eddie: this group chat’s hate mail game is insane

Ravi: at this point please just eat every ingredient raw… please

Eddie: Do I look like Tony Abbott to you

Buck: As a former Committer of Food Crimes, I have decided to make this sauce this weekend after I have a chance to go to the store. I will report back.

Eddie: Excellent, I look forward to vindication.

Hen: No one's going to vindicate your boiled onion in cinnamonny tomato juice on noodles, Eddie

Eddie: Not cinnamon. Cinnamon is a dessert spice. You use the nearest non-dessert spice.

Ravi: cinnamon is absolutely not a dessert spice

Eddie: Yes it is! It's for muffins and pancakes and fruit pies!

Chim: Cinnamon powder is absolutely a dessert “spice” and Eddie if your cooking is this bad I can’t imagine your baked abominations

Eddie: I put lemon juice in everything I bake that isn't bread

Written for the only two gremlins (endearment) who find this as entertaining as I do @professionalprocrastinator22 and @gravelyhalversobbing

Inspired by:

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Honey Bun (18+ Series)

(Aaron Hotchner x Stripper!Reader)

Part 1 // MINORS DNI

This first part is dedicated to @ssahotstuff for inspiring me <3 and to @hausofwhores who I first talked to about my idea hehe <3 <3

WC: 2.1k Words

Song Inspo: Gold Satin Dreamer - Nicole Dollanganger

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, bit of an age gap (placing reader at around 25-26), cursing, alcohol consumption, formalized sex work (Stripper/Pole Dancer), occasional angst, drama, and that's all I can think of rn but lmk if I missed anything!

A/N: Short and sweet intro! Things are gonna get very uhhh interesting from here on out ;) Enjoy some flirty Hotch, let me know your thoughts on this first part! I'm super excited to be writing this!!!! :)

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

“Need a little sugar in your life, gentlemen? Well, get ready to make it rain on our sweetest girl, Honey Bun! Just remember, you may feast your eyes, but no touching!”

—————

Thursdays weren’t always so busy. Sure, there were a couple of party animals who liked to start the weekend early, but rarely at such capacity. 

At least you were glad that Josephine was working with you that night. She made busy nights at the Duchess Tavern much more bearable. When you first started working there, she immediately took you under her wing, teaching you all the ropes. 

She had a certain matronly quality about her — probably attributed to the fact she was twenty years older than you — but she was a real tough cookie, too. On countless occasions, she’d helped you deal with rowdy customers and drunk assholes. She rarely ever needed help from the bouncers to break bar fights, she cursed like a sailor, and she also made the meanest Long Island Iced Tea you’d ever had. 

You were certain that if it weren’t for her, you wouldn’t have lasted a week being a bartender.

“You’re lucky you’re off on weekends,” Josephine said as she poured a row of shots for a group of college-aged girls. “This here is light work compared to a Saturday night.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ll be getting a lot of rest…” you countered. “Dealing with the same sort of customers, too.”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m just getting too old for this shit,” she sighed heavily.

“Oh please, pigs will fly before the day good ole Josie O’Donnell actually retires.”

She laughed heartily, smacking your arm in a playful way. You couldn’t help but admire how hardworking she was. She’d been at this business for years, and it was certainly no easy place to be. She inspired you to stay driven, even when you felt at your lowest. She was the only one in this place you trusted with the knowledge of your other job. Not everyone was so understanding, and plus, it wasn’t really their business anyways.

Working two jobs was in no way easy, but it was definitely necessary. Especially considering you liked living a certain way. You barely had any free time to hang out with friends outside of work, much less meet people and go on dates. Though it’s not like you didn’t get hit on, at both of your jobs, but you just weren’t interested in any of them.

Rarely could anyone keep up with your schedule, especially considering your line of work. It was unsurprising, but you weren’t really phased by it anymore.You didn’t give yourself the time to feel lonely, and you had enough interactions during the day to compensate. 

As the initial swell of patronage died down, you began wiping down the bar, absently humming to yourself. Def Leppard’s ‘Bringing on the Heartbreak’, one of your favorites, was playing on the speakers. 

An older looking gentleman slid onto a barstool then. You offered him a drink menu, but he waved it off and ordered a scotch, neat. He pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a long sigh, and his shoulders slumped as he crossed his arms over the bar top. 

“Long day?” You asked, pouring his drink. 

“You could say so,” he nodded wearily. “You know, I’ve always wondered, are bartenders required to ask that whenever they see a haggard-looking patron?”

You chuckled, sliding it towards him. “Only if we think we can help.”

A ghost of a smile was on his lips at that. You studied him more closely, trying to be subtle – He was strikingly handsome, with dark hair and thick dark eyebrows. He had a strong nose and a sharp, clean shaven jaw. His eyes were a piercing dark brown, and they drew your attention the most.

He took a sip of scotch, and there was something analytical in his gaze as he took you in, as well.

“Well, I guess you could say I’m a little bit of a workaholic,” he said.

You nodded in understanding. “A common affliction these days.”

“You, too?” He raised an eyebrow, and you shrugged as if to say what can you do?

“No offense, but I can’t imagine you love spending more time here than you need to.”

You raised both eyebrows at this, only half amused. He was wearing a nicely tailored suit, had an expensive watch on his wrist, and wasn’t ordering cheap drinks. The Duchess didn’t really seem like a place he’d hang out at, and yet…

“Hmm, well, I suppose the same could be said about you,” you countered, nonchalant.

“Touché,” he acquiesced with the smallest chuckle. “But I don’t know, maybe I should give it a chance. It’s…”

“Charming?” You offered.

“Yes, exactly.”

You excused yourself momentarily to attend to another customer. He looked around, but was clearly uninterested in talking to anyone else.

Josephine caught your eye and gave you an impressed look. She wagged her eyebrows suggestively and mouthed ‘get it’.

You rolled your eyes playfully, shaking your head a little. He was certainly very good looking, and flirting was pretty fun, but you weren’t sure if it should go any further than that.

When you returned, you refilled his glass, since he’d already polished off the first one.

“So, what’s your name?” You asked. “Or is it more fun to keep it anonymous?”

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

You thought about it for a moment, but then you relented, telling him your name.

“Some call me Honey, though,” you added.

He extended his hand out to you. “I’m Aaron Hotchner. It’s nice to meet you, Honey.”

You shook his hand, his long fingers basically engulfing yours. Something stirred low in your belly at this, your mind going straight to the gutter. As if he could tell, a smirk tugged at his lips.

“Boy, do I feel lucky to be the one getting your attention tonight,” he said.

“Why do you say that?” 

“Those guys over there have been ogling you for some time now. They’re almost panting and salivating like dogs.”

You glanced in the direction he gestured towards, momentarily meeting two hungry gazes. You shrugged it off, so used to that sort of lascivious attention that you didn’t notice it anymore.

“Well, you approached me the right way,” you said, busying yourself by wiping down some glasses. “Some think it’s flattering to be looked at like that, but it’s really not.”

“I’m sorry about that,” he sympathized. “I get what you mean.”

“Oh, it must be so hard being so attractive, hmm?” You teased jokingly.

“So you think I’m attractive?” 

You gave him a look that said are you serious?

“I mean, I don’t want to stroke your ego but… Yes, you really are.”

Aaron’s smirk only grew, perhaps feeling more bold now that he was on his second drink. 

“For the record, I think you are very beautiful, but I am a man who knows who to appreciate beauty without needing to take some of it for himself.”

You looked back up at him then, momentarily stunned. Then you chuckled in slight disbelief, but also totally enthralled. Just who was this man?

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d held a conversation — less so one so genuinely riveting — with a single patron for this long. At least at this job, and especially for free.

You were even beginning to consider giving him your number, should he ask for it. But that was yet to be seen.

“I’m serious,” he said.

“Oh, I believe you,” you smirked in return, not letting on if you meant it or not. 

The two of you held each other’s gazes for a charged moment, trying to get a better read of each other in the low light. You saw both mirth and earnestness in his eyes — but no trace of anything that should raise any flags — and you found yourself getting just a little more comfortable.

It was easy to talk to him, but he was still very much a stranger. You didn’t want to let yourself get too excited, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t continue testing the waters. After all, he’d been pretty well behaved so far, and you always liked to reward good behavior.

Once more you had to pull yourself away to attend to someone, but at least the place was getting emptier as it got later. You could feel his gaze trailing you this time, and you glanced over your shoulder to send a wink his way.

“Psst,” Josephine hissed in your direction. “Why don’t you take fifteen? I’ve got things handled here.”

You hesitated. “Are you sure?” 

“Of course I’m sure,” she scoffed. “Go on now, have a little fun.”

You waved her off, but smiled appreciatively. On your way to the other side of the bar, you grabbed yourself a beer and then plopped down on the stool next to Aaron’s. He turned to face you, his knees barely grazing yours. The small contact was innocent enough, but you still felt the smallest tingle down your spine. You clinked your bottle against his glass in a little toast. 

“You were right, you know?” He said, looking at the side of your face as you drank. “You really are helping me feel better.”

“Aw shucks, that means I’m good at my job,” you said teasingly, which made him playfully roll his eyes. 

“Tell me more about you. Why is it that they call you Honey?” he asked.

“Aren’t I sweet?” You pouted, pretending to be hurt.

He chuckled. “I think you are. Is that the whole reason?”

You nodded, omitting the fact that it also happened to be your stage name – Honey Bun. Sticky sweet; All satin and glitter and softness. Of course, that wasn’t the same you that was sitting across from him now.

“I think you have a very pretty name, too,” he leaned against the bar, resting his temple on his fist. “Is it too forward of me to ask to call you by it? Unless you prefer…” 

You waved him off. “How can I decline when you ask so nicely?” 

The two of you lost track of time as you continued talking and joking and teasing each other. Laughter seemed to come so easily around him, and there were virtually no awkward pauses between the two of you. It was almost too good to be true.

You told Aaron about some of the wilder things you’d witnessed working at the Duchess, looping Josephine into the conversation at one point. You never even noticed she didn’t call you back from your break, too absorbed in letting loose for once. Even if it was only for a little while, and not entirely.

Much too soon, last call was announced, and you realized that it was nearly two AM. Most people had left, and someone was sweeping as the tables were being stacked.

“Oh, wow, closing time,” you remarked. “I guess time does fly when you’re having fun, huh?”

You got up from your seat to start helping out, giving him a small, almost sheepish grin. You’d had a really nice time, but he was still a customer and couldn’t stick around as you wrapped up for the night. You tried to think of the nicest way to kick him out… even if a teenie tiny part of you didn’t want him to leave.

Aaron looked around as if coming out of a daze. He glanced at his watch and stood, gathering his things. “So it seems.”

“The Duchess just has that effect on people. I should have warned you.”

“I have to say, I think this place is growing on me,” he admitted. “Would you mind if I visited more often?”

“It’s a free country, you can do whatever you want,”  you smiled, and in your smile there was an invitation— or perhaps a dare?

And in his, you could see that he was ready to take it.

Still, to your surprise and slight chagrin, he did not ask for your contact information. Perhaps it was his way of continuing to be respectful. Or maybe, this encounter had merely been a reprieve from the day to day for both of you. Nothing more.

For a moment, you wondered if things would have gone down differently had you met in the Crimson Lounge instead of the Duchess. The thought made a small thrill dance in your chest, but you tried not to chase it further. Of course things would have gone down differently. You probably wouldn’t have talked nearly as much.

So you took what you could get, blowing a flirty kiss in his direction as he departed. It was better not to get attached, anyway.

[drewstarkeysbitchh]

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x female! Kook-ish! Reader.

Summary: you were a waitress at the country club and Rafe and his friends have been coming every Friday just to annoy the shit out you.

Warnings: Girly being a funny ass bad fucking bitch. Also the tiniest itty bitty smut at the end. But I don’t write it because it makes me uncomfy.♡♡

A/n: this is like my first ever post. I always just kept to myself because I thought I was too good for you all. No I’m kidding, but I’m a lil nervy. Also I’m no fucking English scholar, so if you see anything that’s not supposed to be there, pretend it’s not there. I put commas where I feel like it, ok bitches?? Btw the I put this song because it’s on repeat rn so you don’t have to listen to it but I do…

You looked up from the table you were serving when you heard a group of guys fucking around. It was the too better for everyone kookiest of kooks. Kelce, Topper, and Rafe. I rolled my eyes because this was the fourth Friday in a row that they decided to eat here.

I wrote down the last kids order and went into the back. I went over to the big group in the back with Alyssa, my best friend. We both wanted to work together, so we got jobs together.

“Their here again.” I say talking about the three group of boys that come here almost every Friday. I jump onto the counter.

“If I keep having to serve them, I think I’m gonna shoot myself.” I say making the group all laugh.

“Well I can’t.” Alyssa says. “Me neither.” “Sorry.” I groan.

“Jesus Christ.” I mumble hopping down. I flip them all off in annoyance.

I walk out and over to the group of ignorant assholes.

“Hello what can I do for you three today!” I say sarcastically.

“What a joyful mood.” Topper laughs making me fake smile.

“Always!” I state.

“Can I just get water.” Topper says.

“Me too.” Kelce adds.

I write it down or else I’ll forget. “And what about you, Princess?” I ask.

“Can I just get water too?” He says not really even asking just stating.

“Of course. Anything for my favorite piece of shit!” I say. He rolls his eyes. He had a fling with one my friends over the summer and totally fucked her over. He knew I hated him.

I walk over to get their waters. I carefully to walk back to their tables and give them each their cups.

“Ok now what do you all want to eat I don’t have all fucking day.” I state.

“Where’d the sweet Stevie go?” Topper says. I laugh not at his joke but at myself, because I think I’m so funny. They all smile with me.

“Can I get some wings?” Topper asks. I nod my head.

“I just want a cheeseburger with fries.” Kelce says. I write it down and look over at Rafe.

“I don’t want anything.” He says. I raise my eyebrows.

“You came to a restaurant and you’re not getting any food?” I laugh.

“I just don’t want to put my sweet little cupcake to work.” He laughs.

“It’s not like I make the food.” I state.

“I’m not hungry.” He says. I stare at him for a second just confused.

“Alright.” I say walking to the back to put their orders in the line. I look back at the table and Alyssa isn’t there. She’s probably doing her job for the first fucking time in her life. I walk over and jump onto the counter.

“Hank, who’s the meanest person you’ve ever met?” I ask the chef, my favorite man in the world.

“My wife.” He laughs making me laugh with him.

“Well I think it’s Rafe Cameron.” I say. “He just so narcissistic and in love with himself. He thinks he can’t do anything wrong and it’s so annoying.”

“Stevie you’re table won’t shut up about wanting you.” Alyssa walks in and says to me.

“What?” I sigh.

“They want you like now.” She says. I groan and jump off the counter.

I walk over to their table. “Oh there she is.” Kelce says.

“What do you assholes want now?” I laugh.

“I want your friend’s number.” Rafe smirks.

“Ok I have shit to do.” I say walking away.

“Please Stevie, I’ll treat her so well I promise.” He smiles even bigger.

“Why don’t you just ask her yourself, dumbass? Why’d you call me all the way over here?” I groan.

“She isn’t over here.” He says.

“She was just here. She said you guys wouldn’t shut the fuck up.” I say.

“She said that?” He smirks.

“Yeah she did. Look either you get it yourself or don’t get it at all. It’s not my problem.” I say.

“Are you jealous Stevie?” He smiles.

I look at him with disgust. “God you’re so conceited. You think everyone is so in love with you.” I roll my eyes.

“You should be a little nicer to me, Stevie. I can get you fired.” He says. I roll my eyes.

“Go ahead. Then you wouldn’t be able to keep fucking up my Friday’s.” I say walking away.

I walk to the front and ask Steve if I can leave early. I make up a fake story. He lets me go. I genuinely don’t think my anger issues could’ve handled anymore of that.

“Alyssa their your problem now.” I say grabbing my keys. She furrows her eyebrows.

“I can’t deal with them anymore. I’m going home.” I say.

I walk out the door and walk home. My house is close enough, there’s no point in even driving. It’s still a ways to walk, though.

After 5 minutes of walking, I see headlights. It’s a truck. A big ass truck. It comes up closer to me. They roll down their window.

“Did I piss you off too much, sweetheart?” It’s Rafe. I roll my eyes as soon as I hear his voice.

“You just don’t know how to fucking quit.” I say.

“Get in. I’ll take you home.” He says. I scoff.

“Hell no.” I say.

“Stevie don’t be such a determined fucking bitch and get in the car.” He says.

“You know when you call me a bitch it just makes me want to hop in you’re truck so much more.” I say.

“Stevie, I know you don’t want to walk all the way home.” He says. I sigh and walk over to the passenger seat. He was right I didn’t want to walk all the way home.

“You’re still an asshole.” I say. He laughs.

“What even happened? We used to be friends.” He asks.

“Well you cheated on Lily. I mean there’s so many reasons why I fucking hate you, but that’s a big one.” I say.

“Alright I didn’t cheat on her.” He says making me mentally orbit around the fucking moon.

“Oh right you just slept with someone that wasn’t Lily, sorry I don’t know what I was thinking.” I say.

“That’s what she told you?” He scoffs.

“Yeah?” I say.

“I didn’t cheat on her.” He says.

“Well then what did you do Rafe?” I ask.

“I just stopped liking her I don’t know. I tried to tell her in a nice way, but she went fucking psycho on me.” He says.

“You just stopped liking her? How do you just stop liking her?” I ask.

“I don’t know like how you stopped liking Joe.” He says, bringing up my ex.

“Ok that’s different. We both agreed we didn’t feel anything anymore.” I say.

“I stopped liking Lily, because I started liking her friend.” He says looking at me for a second.

“That’s not fucked up at all.” I say. He rolls his eyes.

“Who was it? Alyssa??” I ask.

“No it wasn’t Alyssa.” He says.

“Then why did you want her number?” I ask. He pauses. The car gets really quiet.

“I wanted to see how you’d react.” He says.

“See how I’d react? Why would you care what I thought?” I ask. We sit there for a minute in complete silence.

“It was you, Stevie. Jesus Christ, you were the friend that I couldn’t stop fucking thinking about. Every time you’d come over with you’re stupid little boyfriend, I was never looking at Lily, I was always watching you. I couldn’t do anything because you had a boyfriend and I was dating Lily.” He says making me audibly gasp. Ok not literally but I was in pure shock.

“No fucking shit.” I laugh. He scoffs.

“Fuck off.” He says making me laugh.

“I used to like you too. I was like in love with you in 8th grade.” I say. “It was when I met Sarah and came over to you’re house everyday. To be honest, I only went over there to see you.”

He laughs. “Shut up.” I scoff. “It’s weird we both used to like each other.” He looks at me.

“I never stopped, Stevie.” He says.

“What?” My voice shakes.

“I never stopped liking you.” He says making me gulp really loudly. I stare at him. I’m so nervous right now I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. He starts to lean in and my heart starts beating faster.

I don’t pull away so this has to mean I feel the same. He puts his hand on my face. Our lips finally touch and I realize I like it. He picks up my thighs and sets me on top of him.

I can’t believe of all things that could’ve happened today, I’m in Rafe Cameron’s car about to fuck.

[giffenprep]

An Invitation

“Oh, yes, young man. Your imagination is right on point. I absolutely am a strict disciplinarian. I am surprised that my nephew Andrew has not shared any of his bare bottom experiences across my knees. Go ahead and talk to him about it. From there you can make your decision as to whether you would like to visit, misbehave and then have your own tales to share with the other young boys around here. Interested?”

(My apologies to someone - I've lost track of the author of this initial passage)

=================================================================

===

Why on earth, I should have asked myself, would I be ‘interested’?  But for some reason I was more than interested, I was fascinated, and then obsessed.  I didn’t really want to ask Andy about it but I did.  When I mentioned his aunt, he only said, “That bitch?  Believe me, I wish she’d never been born.”  I pressed a little but he’d only add, “She’s the meanest lady I’ve ever known, probably who’s ever lived.  And I have to be related to her!”

But visit I did.  Not that I wanted to share tales any more than Andy did.  I was deeply ashamed of my interest but I couldn’t seem to help myself.

===

“I don’t really want to misbehave,” I told ‘Aunt’ Edwina.  “I don’t know, it seems…”

“Contrived?” she asked when I couldn’t find the word.

“I was going to say ‘silly’, but yes, that’s even better.”

“Perhaps you’ve already misbehaved,” she suggested.  “Is that why you’re here?”

My knees went weak.  I’d ‘misbehaved’ plenty over the years.  I wouldn’t survive being disciplined for all of it!

“Let’s start with rudeness,” this stern woman decided.  “Have you been rude to someone?  Your mother, perhaps?”

I felt like crying.  Yes, I’d been rude to her plenty of times.  “Yes, ma’am,” I mumbled.

“I don’t abide rudeness.  You have manners, clearly, and you should use them.  With your mother in particular.”  When I didn’t respond (I was too afraid to) she continued, “Has she punished you appropriately for it?”

“Sometimes she speaks to me about it,” I admitted.  “Usually she just lets it slide.”

“That doesn’t sound effective,” I was told, “Which is most likely why you’ve done it repeatedly.”

“Yes, ma’am, I’m sure you’re right.”

“Let’s deal with that, then.  I suspect that will be enough progress for one day,” she intoned ominously.

With that she confiscated my trousers and led me to a desk.  While I bent over it, terrified, she produced a hairbrush.

“We’ll start with where you sit.  That will be the easiest to remember,” she explained.  The next time you think of being rude to your mother, you can think of this and realize how little you want to have to tell me of your backsliding.”

Then she began a ferocious attack on my bare thighs, scalding them with her hairbrush.  My tears of fear and self-pity became sobs of pain. 

“Please!  Please!  I’ll be good!” I promised desperately.

“I don’t doubt you will be,” she agreed calmly.  But the assault went on.  The pain was insane, beyond belief!  Sobs exploded from me with every new stroke.

At last it was over and she stopped, but only for a moment.  “Now you’re ready for a proper spanking,” she announced before resuming the battering, on my ass this time.  Again I pleaded, again I promised, again she expressed confidence in my future behavior, all the while continuing those terrible smacks.  I couldn’t even form words, only sounds that begged for mercy.

After she stopped (at long, long last!) she kept her hand on my back, holding me in place as I shook and worried that there was more to come.  I lay there like that for a while, shaking and sobbing.  Finally, she said I could stand and move to the corner to compose myself.  She positioned me with my hands on my head.  I was waving my blistered backside around but she took no heed.

When I calmed down sufficiently, she offered me a cup of tea.  I had to kneel to drink it, since she was sitting (which I couldn’t) and didn’t want me ‘looming over her’.  “I trust you’ll be more careful about your rudeness?” she asked and I assured her that I would be.

As I prepared to leave, she asked, “Is this a good time for you?”  I didn’t have to pretend not to know what she meant.  “You will be back here in two weeks, is that understood?  I take it that 10 AM is a convenient time?”

“Yes, Ms. Edwina,” I said without even thinking.  Or maybe I was too scared to.

“Good.  I expect that you have other behaviors that need discouraging.  Misbehaviors, that is.”

My tears began to leak a bit and I felt the need to pee, though I’d done so when I’d arrived.

“Am I right?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, knowing the consequences.

“I shall see you then, then,” she said, leading me to the door.  Once there, she turned me to her.  “You’re a brave boy, and we shall have you acting properly.”  With that she pulled my face down and kissed my forehead.

=================================================================

I wish I could say that that was my worst-ever spanking from her or at least typical but several of my visits (yes, I kept going back) started out that way and then, after a long period of ‘thinking time’ facing the corner, I’d be put back in position for a long leathering to ‘spank the lesson home’.  Of course by then my underpants would routinely come down, costing me whatever scant protection they had first offered.  Still, I had learned to sit on the train for the ride home without actually crying.

One trip my confession was having looked too long at a woman who was showing more cleavage and thigh than she intended.  Before meeting Ms. Edwina I would have considered myself lucky but now I knew that I’d have to pay for not looking away.

“Is it fair to say that you stared?” my disciplinarian asked, and all I could do is nod.  “And what is it that you stared at?”

“Her, um, leg, I could see.  She was squatting down and her dress, well, I could see her, her thigh,” I confessed.  “And her,” I paused, searching for a genteel word, “Her bosom, as she bent forward, her brassiere and…”

“Her cleavage?” I was asked.

“Yes, Ms. Edwina, it was exposed.”

“And you didn’t look away.  Even though you knew you should.”

“No, ma’am, I, um, didn’t.  I’m very sorry about the whole thing.”

“I should think you would be.  Tell me, was this what I would call a ‘trashy’ dress, that she was wearing, that showed so much of her?”

I blushed deeply.  “No, ma’am.  It was a church dress, I guess you’d call it.”

“And,” I said.

“Oh?  There’s more?” Ms. Edwina growled, causing my butt to tighten.

“It was all because she was fiddling with her baby, she had one of baby carriers, she’d set it on the floor…”

Ms. Edwina looked at me, her temper rising.  She said nothing.

“Pants down,” she said at last, breaking the merciless silence.  She left the room only to return with a cane, something she’d only threatened me with before.

“Let’s just be sure that you’re as sorry as you say,” she suggested.

“You are unfamiliar with the cane, are you not?” she asked with exaggerated formality.  “I, on the other hand, am particularly familiar with it and you will feel that you are, as well, before I’ve finished.  Long before I’ve finished, in fact!”  She seemed to be looking forward with great excitement and enthusiasm to demonstrating her expertise and defending this anonymous woman’s honor.

I could not have taken my position with any more trepidation than I was feeling and she proceeded to justify my every fear.

“When I think of that poor woman, a new mother, just wanting to look nice one morning a week, stopping for a cup of tea,” she intoned (this had happened in a tea shop), “Only to find herself ogled, stared at, quite rudely, as she struggled…”

=================================================================

2 captions just above from @spanked2realtears

last photo from @carabonnysblog

[chaifootsteps]

This is probably the meanest I’ll ever get in regards to character design, but nearly every time HB or HH comes out with a new character design all I can think of is that character being like:

(I think busy designs can work-but. Like. Some of them are just so much)

They definitely can work, but even the busiest designs need to have some kind of purpose and restraint. Viv's designs are the character design equivalent of a little kid making an ice cream sundae.

[dance-to-mythoughts-blog]

I said burrrr it's cold in here!

Shoto Todoroki x Black Fem chubby reader

Synopsis: Todoroki is the typical college jock and the reader is the typical aspiring cheerleader. But what happens when he typical jock wants to be with the quiet chubby girl?

Warnings: 18+, smut, degrading, fem presenting reader, chubby reader, insecurity, slight dom Todoroki, college AU, no preperation for the dick. There are no quirks. ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE UNDER 18. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

Word count: 2K

Ok. So this is my first oneshot. I hope you like it. In the process of debating what my first series should be about. I dont see enough stories around Midoriya or Shinso, might make a story surrounding one of them. Enjoy loves! <3

What started out as a typical day turned into a day from hell. You were just trying to enjoy your lunch until your friend persuaded you to try out for the cheer squad. You were a chubby girl but you could still get down when needed. The cheerleaders were the meanest of all the squads. Hell, even the fucking football team with their goofy asses were nicer than the damn cheerleaders and my bestie wanted me to try out for the team. She thinks it would make me be a social butterfly.

"Now why the fuck would I try out for the cheer team hoe? They don't do anything but fail their classes and complain about boys."

"Because it will do you good. You need to be a social butterfly, like me. Get out there and meet some people and have fun. I see how they look at you. Probably think that because you're bigger than the rest they might think you can't get down. And bitch, you get DOWWN."

"Karlie Rae please stop with your shit. I'm not trying out for that goofy-ass shit. There is nothing that would make me want to try out?"

"Shoto Todoroki. Thats it. Thats the tweet."

Shoto fucking Todoroki is one of the finest jocks the football team has ever fucking seen. It makes no sense how fine this man is. Considering this man's dad is a multimillionaire and owner of Enji Corporations. The largest law firm in all of Japan. Not gone lie, dude would be a catch but he’s a jock. He cares about nothing other than pussy and trying to see who can get the most girls after the games.

“Bitch. What do I want with Todoroki? I mean the man is fine asl but shit, what the fuck are u mentioning him for?”

“Because he could fuck you. You need some dick tbh sis and I need you to get laid. It’s been a long time since someone cracked you like an egg. I mean he looks like he likes you. Always stares at you when you walk by and also gives you little smiles. Don’t think I don’t see the way he looks at you hoe.”

“Alright. I do need some dick but why does it have to be Todoroki? When the hell has all this transpired? I never noticed any of this shit that you’re talking about. And to get some dick, why do I have to fucking join the cheer team? I can't just use Tinder or something”

“NO! Tinder is for hoes. You are just looking for a one-night stand and I think a one-night stand will do you good if you join the cheer squad. “

I get where my bestie is coming from but damn. What is the reason that I need to join the cheer team?

“Alright fine. You win. I’ll try out for the cheer team. Are you happy now?”

After your friend convinced you to try out for the cheer team, you left and went to buy all the necessities. The color scheme was black and purple so you bought some cute purple cheer shorts, a white tank top, and some white workout shoes so you can get ready to try out for the squad. You walked in the gym where tryouts were being held  with your bestie right behind you and there was immediate silence. You were a bigger girl and everyone could see that but the immediate silence was striking. You started to hear whispers and got mean stares from some of the jocks and current cheer squad. You pushed that shit aside, Karlie provided a reassuring look, and you walked in, got your number, and sat on the bleachers waiting to be called with the group. Soon as you and your friend sat down you saw a pair of heterochromatic eyes staring at you from the other side of the gym.

“Y/N it’s ok. Fuck these people and their stares. You know you get down and you’re better than a majority of these damn people. I bet the others don’t even have rhythm.”

You laughed at your bestie trying to make you feel better. It was working. Kinda.

“Karlie it’s fine. Now I see what you’re saying about Todoroki staring at me. Mans been looking at me since we got in this bitch and I haven’t even taken his eyes off me LOL.”

“See. Told you! Now when its time for your group to perform I want you to go out there and give them hell! Make them wish they never tried out for the squad in the damn first place. “

Sure Enough, they called your group. You all gathered down to the floor and proceeded to dance to One Two Step by Ciara. Once the group portion was over, it was time for the individual performances. You guys had two performances. One with the group and one individual. The individual performance was a quick minute routine that you guys had to come up with on your own. So once again, they called your number and this is where everything started to go to hell.

“Number 469 come forward,” Margret, captain of the cheer squad said.

“Please perform your routine. You have one minute to do your choreography. “

“OK. Can you turn the music to 1 Thing by Amerie?”

This bitch turned on the music then turned it off. Stated that the music was vulgar and that they cant play vulgar music. She made a slick remark too about my weight. But I’ll check her ass about that later. Now its time for the results. We’ve been here for hours awaiting the results. Just by the way some of the girls were doing their routines, I knew they were making the squad because their friend is the captain and their routines sucked so much ass it didn’t even make sense dude.

Now if I didn’t make the fucking team, that would’ve been fine but no. This bitch Margaret decided hey, let’s fuck with the fat quiet girl and embarrass her for no fucking reason.

“Number 469 thank you for trying out. But I don’t think it would be a good look for someone of your size to be on the squad. It wouldn’t be a good fit for our squad.”

If you felt that way, why would you fucking admit that in the microphone in front of everyone?  Makes no sense to me whatsoever. But I let my emotions get the best of me. I ran out crying because I was embarrassed that she said that shit in front of everyone not what she said. As a big bitch, I know that there are a lot if things that we get looked at crazy for but this here is a different type of shade.  While running out I saw a pair of heterochromatic eyes staring me down watching me run with tears in my eyes. I heard a knock on the bathroom door.

“Y/N it’s me. Open up, hun. This is the only bathroom and I know you’re in there. It’s ok. Fuck Margaret and the rest of the fucking squad. Do you want me to get the Glock and pistol whip their asses? Cause I will. But anyway, I love you. I’m not gone force you to talk to me but just know when you do I’m here.”

With that, Karlie left to give me some alone time. I wasn’t upset at what they did or what they said. I was angry because they had the audacity to embarrass me in front of everyone and then everyone was laughing. Soon as I came out of the bathroom, guess who I ran into to?

“Hey. You OK? What she did back there was whack. I think you did your thing back there” That monotone voice. It was the infamous Shoto Todoroki talking to me. Man was fine as fuck but even finer up close in person. Beautiful heterochromatic eyes, a fire as undercut with his two-toned hair. He was 6’1 with his school varsity jacket on, a white tee, some jeans, and some fresh white and purple Jordan shoes. And he smelt so fucking good that I could’ve melted in his arms like butter. I got so caught up in his beauty I didn’t even realize he was asking me about my name.

“Hey. You got a name?”

“Oh Yeah. It’s Y/N. We have Calculus together.” He meditated upon for a min.

“Oh. Dr. Briley. Class is cool. I hate how she did her syllabus tho. To much work for me.”

“Really? I took it as you always had shit given to you being who your daddy is and all. No offense”

He chuckled. “None taken. Most people assume that anyway. But I actually like science and math. Trying to work for NASA one day.”

“Nasa? That’s a nice spot to work.” Soon as I was gonna ask him if he liked football and what made him wanna join the team, this bitch Margret decided to pop up and ruin the fun. The look she gave me could kill because everyone knew she wanted Todoroki. Seemed obvious enough unless he was just in denial that she wanted him. It was hella cringe.

TIME SKIP

So a few days went by and everyone heard about what happened at the tryouts. So their coach reached out to me personally and decided to ask me to join the squad. Apparently, she had not been present for the actual tryouts but she was in the distance watching to make sure things went smoothly. So I joined because basically it was inevitable to change. I enjoyed the cheer squad. It was nice. Nice to see that over time I made a friend with Todoroki and some of his friends. Ida, Ochacko, Tsu, and Midoriya. They were all nice. Hell, even some of the meaner jocks became my friends too like Kiri, Denki, and Bakugo. Even tho Bakugo is mad at literally every damn thing.

TIME SKIP TO HOCO(HOMECOMING)

It was time for HOCO. You guys played again Kentucky State, who traveled from the Americas to Japan to get absolutely wrecked. Now it was time for the HOCO dance. You decided to wear a red dress the accentuates your curves, some silver heels, with some cocoa butter and some gold glitter body shimmer to really give it some pop. You put on your fav perfume and had your titties sitting up there to the point they looked like you had implants. You had your tattoos showing and you were proud of the color tattoos that were on your skin. Amazing. Fucking beautiful. Yu had a red bird that was realistic on your right shoulder and you had a spine tat that was a quote that you live by.

“Hey Y/n. You looks so fucking good. OMG! Bitch you are breaking necks and its something serious too hoe.”

“As I should be. LoL. Took me forever to get my buss down middle part together man. But its fire. Love how I did my make up. I feel like I stepped straight out the fucking 90’s ready to snatch somebody son. Speaking of somebody son. Half and half is staring so hard I think his eyeballs are gonna pop out his head because they’re dry lol.” With that being said, Todoroki made his way over to you and was staring you down like he wanted to devour you.

“Hey. Damn you look good. I see you actually decided to bring your ass to HOCO huh? Oh, hey Karlie”

“Hey Todoroki” what’s up? Yall did good out there. But im gone leave and let yall talk”

“By Karlie. I’ll see you later.”

“Now that Karlie is gone. You wanna get out of here for a little while?”

“Sure”

As you walked out with Todoroki you were receiving stares. You were trying to decide if you were receiving those stares because you looked fucking good or you decided to cave into your pussys desire and fuck Todoroki if he would fuck you back. Mans was beautiful and the relationship is super cliché. He’s the jock and you’re the cheerleader, who just happens to be a big bitch and that made the team because the coach said so. Not to cliché or bad right?

“What’s up Shoto. You good? You look sickly” and with that his lips were on yours. His lips were soft like he moisturized them and also took great care to specifically make sure his lips felt like a cloud. You kissed him back slowly as he wrapped the small of his hand on your back and moved to start kissing your jawline and your neck. “I been waiting to do that for a little while now. You so fucking sexy. Wanted you ever since I laid eyes on you”

“Really? How about we get the fuck out of here for real and you can show me how sexy I really am?” pecking him on his lips. He agreed and yall left. Barley made it into his dorm before his hands were all on you. His hands felt like fucking magic. Big strong hands that he uses every single day. Made you feel amazing that somebody fine ass son wanted to love you and fuck the living daylights out of you. Fucking amazing. The kissing started to get a little more heated as he gripped your ass hard. Gripped your plump ass so fucking hard like he is holding one of his footballs and you fucking enjoyed it. You enjoyed it so fucking much that it made you sick how you were basically putty for this man.

“Fuck that feels good” you let out as a breathy moan. Man was making you feel like you were on fucking cloud 9 and nothing could fuck up this moment. He started kissing your jawline while gripping your ass and telling you all kinds of nasty shit he wanted to do to you.

“If that feels good, just wait until I got you creaming on my dick. Sexy ass” his voice was deeper and filled with more lust and desire than anything. He moved me to the couch where he pushed me on my back to eat my pussy.

“Hurry up and eat me already. You are such a fucking tease man” came out more of a whine than you intended too.

“Shut the fuck up and wait. Im about to drink in every little part of this pussy and I eat it and fuck it when I’m ready. Understand?”

This man just told me to shut the fuck up while he is about to eat my pussy and fuck it. AMAZING. Who knew this man could be a fucking dom the way he’s talking to me.

“Answer me, princess. I can't do anything if you don’t talk to me” while he proceeded to slowly antagonize me and pull my panties down.

“You are so fucking wet that I could go swimming in it”

“All for you Shoto. All yours” you so desperately whined hoping he would get the picture and fuck you senseless already.

You were ready for this man to absolutely fuck your brains out and here he was playing slowly.

“Can you please fuck me already. I want you to fuck me like you are about to break my coochie in half please”

He let out a hearty chuckle “break it in half huh? Say no more. I’m not even gonna prep you. I need you to take all this dick understand?”

“Yes daddy I do”

And with that the man took this shit like we were on the fucking rocky river. IT felt so fucking good that he didn’t care if I was crying or not. He rammed it into me and it took me a min to get used to how big he was. He was long and thick with a beautiful vein on the underside of the shaft. His dick was so fucking pretty that I didn’t even want to suck it but I wanted him to fuck me with it because I wanted to squirt and cream all over that dick.

“F-fuck you feel soooo goooodddd… oh..my…fuck”

“you feel me, baby? You feel- shit, so fucking good. Gonna make me cum already. You wanna cum on daddy’s dick yea?”

“fuck I wanna come on daddy's dick.”

I came all over his dick. He looked so fucking good with his hair sticking to his face a little and his body all sweaty. His abs looked so good covered in sweat and he like to provide after care. AMAZING. I just fucked the shoto Todoroki. Beautiful. Cant wait to tell Karlie about my dick appointment since she decided that I needed some dick months ago.

[transsexual-dandelions]

Weekly tag Wednesday !!

Thank u for the tags @spookygingerr and @especially-fuk-u !!

Name: dean :D

Age: 18

Your time zone: EST

What do you do for work: I’m in school right now so nothing, but this summer (probably in a couple weeks) I’m working at a pool store and maybe an ice cream shop

Do you have any pets?: yes!! I have a calico cat named Salem, she’s my best friend and so cute I love her so much

What first drew you to the fandom: I kept seeing clips of shameless on TikTok, I finally caved and started watching it over the summer, and I got hooked ever since (averaged a season and a half in a day), lurked around the fandom for a while but then started majorly interacting. I’ve never been normal about anything I’ve ever consumed, this is no exception (autism goes brrrr)

Morning person or night owl?: night owl baby!! Earliest you’ll get me up is 10am, I’ll go to sleep around 3-4 am (I also have insomnia)

What are your hobbies?: any type of art or craft, I paint, sew, draw, bookbind and just random miscellaneous stuff, my last art project was making spikes for my jacket from soda cans. I also read, like, a lot, mainly fanfiction bc special interest, but also I love non fiction (essays, memoirs, political theory) and some fiction (I love love love horror), I’m a major Jack of all trades, just constantly looking for something new to try

How tall are you?: 5’6” baby!

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live?: anywhere warm and with a beach, I love summer and I’m built for it, I’ve considered New Orleans a lot for some reason, maybe California but I also hate west coast culture so um there’s that

Favorite color: yellow !! My and my siblings were color coded to prevent fights, and yellow was my color as a kid and it’s just stayed my favorite, and people always unanimously agree yellow is a color that Suits Me, saying i have yellow and sunshine energy, it also just best on me compared to other colors

Favorite book: this is such a hard choice, im going to say the perks of being a wallflower I think, ultimate comfort book really, but I also love to talk and think about Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison

Favorite movie?: it’s a horror movie called the empty man, it’s SO weird and SO fucked up with the most normal and sane horror protagonist

Favorite fic: I could never choose, one I’ve been thinking about A Lot is the origins of girldadism, but I also love meanest hunk of woman and enemy lines I’ll recommend them till the day I die

Favorite musical artist: I love love love Green Day i could talk abt them forever I’m going to see them in concert this summer and I’m SO freaking excited, honorable mentions are Noah kahan and old dominion

What is your average screen time so far this week?: 8 hours and 10 minutes. Higher than I was expecting considering all I’ve been doing is studying

What’s the first app you open in the morning: Spotify! I need music all the time ever, it helps me get going in the morning on weekdays, and on weekends either tumblr, discord, or Instagram depending on who’s texted me

How long have you been on tumblr: I think this summer will be 6 years?

finally (and i know this one is hard) tell me a fun fact about yourself: I’m learning my third language (Ukrainian) and planning a fourth (French, probably in college (I’m so done with Spanish bffr)) I also make my own recycled paper! I think that’s always fun to mention

I’m tagging:

@mickeym4ndy @astaraels @em-harlsnow @mickittotheman @transmickey

@transmurderbug

@atthedugouts @jademickian @liza420

And anyone else who wants to !! Ur welcome to do so !! And no pressure, you can otherwise consider this a friendly hello, fist bump, dap, and/or an “I’m thinking of you”

[83-for-truth]

probably one of my favorite mormon experiences was when someone was like “my patriarchal blessing says i’ll marry someone just like my mom!” and their mom is absolutely one of the meanest people you’ve ever met

[wndaswife]

I'm a bit embarrassed to admit that it's my first time, and I used to get a lot of attention. I would usually ignore them, and it would end up making them cry. But I'm happy to hear that you're into femme! Before I thought you were into butch and stoic types, which wouldn't have worked for me since I'm the meanest girl around, and no one can handle my attitude. That's why I barely have any friends.

On another note, I'm planning to adopt a golden retriever puppy and name it after you. I'm not really into animals, but I'll be the best mom for them, for sure. And cookies? I hate sweets, but okay, I'll eat them for you! However, those kisses are gross. I always flinch when someone I know tries to kiss me, but Rae, you're probably my soft spot, if ever :))

- i don't know what emoji should i use, can you help me?

TBH i can be attracted to any kind of girl rilly.. but yeassss i do like a femme :3 maybe i’ll be more descriptive when i get actual experience… blegh i still have none >:( it’s actually hard for lesbians IDK… idk… maybe im projecting.. but also on a different note it’s ok to not have so many ppl around u, even if u had many friends it doesn’t guarantee you’d like and enjoy being around them, and u might just end up wishing you had more time away from them anyways! so it’s more about what you enjoy than being around a certain quantity of ppl

omg stop that’s so cute… rae actually my nickname so it kinda cute! i am only a fish on land with legs it is bizarre i have effects on ppl…. but u r so sweet thank yew for ur kind words

and because i speak of fish u can have fish emoji <3 🐟

[welcometojackass2022]

The Anniversary Surprise (Sub!Raab Himself/Chris Raab x Reader) [Smut]

@chasingwinehouse this one’s for you <3 Full credit to you for the GIFS and for most of the ideas shown here! Hope you enjoy it :)

I censored some words in the description and warnings, so maybe this one won’t get hit with a content warning like the previous one was.

Description: It’s you and Raab’s one year anniversary, and you want to do something special for him; after a date night consisting of dinner and a movie, you take him back home and surprise him with something new: s*x without a condom. He obviously gets super excited, and about halfway through, he ends up getting a little overstimulated. Instead of wanting you to stop, he actually begs you to keep going, and that’s how you find out that Raab likes the feeling of it.

Warnings: Cursing, Sm*t, Mommy Kink, Sub Raab and Dom Reader, Unprotected S*x, You tease Raab during the date to purposefully make him horny, Overstimulation, Raab cums quickly but then keeps going because he wants you to cum too and it overstimulates him, Slightest Hint of Breeding Kink (part of the appeal for Raab is that he gets to cum inside you), Raab cries and begs a lot

@asskickedbygirl tagging you as always!

@butttxray tagging you as always too!

“I don’t know how you’ve managed to put up with Raab’s annoying ass for a whole year, man, you’re a national hero.” Novak brushed the massive pile of crumbs off of his bed, pulling out a McDonald’s hamburger wrapper from under his pillow and shoving it under his mattress as you looked on in disgust. You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to say the meanest thing you possibly could at that moment; on any other occasion you would have reminded Novak that he was at least ten times more annoying than Raab could ever be, but this wasn’t a good time to do that since Novak was being nice enough to let you borrow his bedroom for the night. “He’s not annoying, Novak, be nice. And why the hell do you have so many wrappers in your bed? I could feed an entire football team with the crumbs you just brushed onto the floor.” Novak shrugged with a shameless grin. “Chill out, babe. A couple of crumbs aren’t gonna stop you and Raab from banging it out, right?” You made a face. “You’ve got such a way with words, Novak, you should be an author.” He raised his eyebrows, laughing obnoxiously as he tried (and failed) to smooth out his wrinkled bedsheets. “Dreamseller, baby!” You grinned. “Poor old Frantz has probably contributed more to that book than you have, Novak.” Novak smirked, but he didn’t deny it. “No comment. Anyway, where’s my two packs?”

You shot him a look. “You said one pack, dipshit, not two. Don’t get greedy.” Novak raised his arms in defeat with a shit-eating grin. “Alright, alright, you caught my bluff. I was hoping you’d forget how many packs you promised me and I could get another free one out of this.” You playfully rolled your eyes as you handed him the pack of cigarettes you’d promised him; in exchange for the cigarettes, Novak had promised to let you and Raab use his bedroom for the night to celebrate your anniversary. Raab had his own bed in Bam’s house, but it was in a weird little corner in Bam’s basement and wasn’t the most ideal place for romantic sex. Novak’s bed was kinda gross, sure, but it was at least in its own room. Novak took the pack and opened it, checking to make sure all the cigarettes were there, and then he nodded. “The room’s all set, so we’re good to go. When are you guys getting back?” You thought it over for a moment as you kicked some of the crumbs on the floor under Novak’s bed. “Probably about nine or ten. We leave at five, dinner will take an hour at least, and the movie’s about two hours or so. Are you gonna crash somewhere else for the night?” Novak nodded with a grin. “I’m gonna go to a bar with Bam tonight and scope out the hot pussy. I’ll pick a girl who has a house and stay with her for the night. You know, so you two can sleep here.”

You smiled. “Great, thanks. Have fun picking up random girls in bars, try not to catch too many STDs.” Novak laughed. “I’ve already got every STD in the book, babe, I can’t catch something I already have.” You giggled, shaking your head in disbelief as you told him goodbye and left to go find Raab. He was laying on his bed in his weird little corner of Bam’s basement, flipping through a skateboarding magazine with the basement TV blaring as it played MTV. You walked up, plucked the magazine out of his hand, and leaned down to give him a kiss, which he eagerly returned as he took the magazine back. You pulled away, and he grinned at you. “Happy anniversary.” You laughed. “Chris, you’ve already said happy anniversary. At least four times now, actually.” He shrugged, his grin widening as he tossed the magazine aside and pulled you down to sit beside him on his bed. “I just like saying it.” You smiled. “You know what? So do I. Happy anniversary, baby.” His face lit up, and he leaned in for another kiss before pulling away to turn off the TV. “Where all are we going, again? For the date, I mean.” You sat up against the pillows, looking away in thought. “First, we’re gonna get dinner, and then we’re gonna go see that new movie you mentioned the other day, and then we’re gonna come back here for the night to have some…alone time.” You grinned suggestively at him, and his face lit up with pure excitement. “Man, that sounds fun, especially the last part. Maybe we should skip the rest and just do that!”

You playfully rolled your eyes as you got up from the bed. “Very funny, baby. Come on, we’re going to your favorite restaurant and we need to leave now so we don’t get back from that movie too late.” Raab jokingly protested as he got to his feet, adjusting the shirt and pants he’d picked out for the date and asking you to smooth down his hair for him before the two of you headed upstairs towards your car. The ride to the restaurant was fairly short, and the two of you spent it rocking out to a random mixtape Raab had made for you back in the first month of your relationship. When you pulled into the little diner, Raab eagerly got out of the car as fast as he could to open your car door for you, which was something he always did for special occasions like this when he wanted to be romantic for you. You smiled appreciatively at him as you got out of the car and interlocked your fingers with his own, holding his hand as the two of you walked inside and sat down at a table. Raab plucked a menu from the table centerpiece and looked over it, and you laughed. “Chris, you order the same thing every time we come here, what are you looking at the menu for?” He grinned at you. “I wanna see if they give out free desserts for couples when it’s their anniversary.” You shook your head, looking down at the menu yourself as you decided what you wanted. “I doubt it, those free desserts are usually just for birthdays and for couples who propose in the restaurant. Maybe we can pretend it’s your birthday and share a free ice cream sundae!”

Raab nodded, turning the menu over to stare at the picture of the birthday ice cream sundae that the restaurant offered. “I’ll gladly lie and say it’s my birthday if it means we get free dessert.” The meal was relatively uneventful aside from a little conversation about your favorite moments from the relationship so far (yours was a stargazing date you took Raab on about a month into dating him, and Raab’s was that same stargazing date, but only because it was the first time you ever let him suck your boobs) and the free ice cream sundae that the two of you shared for dessert, which you obtained through lying to the waitstaff about it being Raab’s birthday; he had to sit there while the entire staff sang him happy birthday, but it was definitely worth it. Throughout the meal, you were tempted to lean over and touch his thigh or rub his cock under the table, just to tease him and get him excited for what was to come, but you decided against it. Raab didn’t like being embarrassed in public places where other people could see, so you decided to wait until the two of you were in the movie theater instead. It would be dark, there would probably be very few people in the theater because of the time of day the movie was taking place, and the movie would be loud enough to mask any moans that Raab happened to let slip. It was the perfect place.

After another short drive, this time to the movie theater, Raab opened your car door for you once again and led you inside, the two of you stopping to buy popcorn, candy, and drinks before heading in to see the movie. You sat all the way in the back of the theater, scanning the room to see if anyone was sitting anywhere near you; aside from three people in the very front row and one person in the middle row, there was no one else there, which meant you could tease Raab freely without any worry of someone seeing. The movie was actually pretty interesting, and you didn’t want to ruin the experience for Raab, so you waited until a slow, unimportant scene came up to gently place your hand on his thigh, smiling when you felt him start to tense up underneath you. You glanced at him, and he was still watching the movie, albeit while breathing much heavier than he had been before. You moved the hand up to stroke his inner thigh, and his legs twitched, his hips just barely bucking up against your touch. You glanced at him again; he was staring at you with an eager look, like he was waiting for you to do more. You slid the hand all the way up to brush over his cock through his jeans, and a shaky little moan left his lips right away, his eyes darting across the room to make sure the other people in the theater hadn’t heard him. Of course they hadn’t; none of them were even looking back at you. They were all focused on the movie, which was distractingly loud.

You brushed your hand over his cock again, firmly palming it with enough force to make him whine as he hardened under your touch, and he leaned his head back against the wall that was behind your row, eyes squeezed shut as he gasped and whined under his breath. You palmed it again, grinning at how red his face was, and then, just to be a little mean, you pulled your hand away and went back to pretending to watch the movie. You could see in your peripheral vision that Raab was staring at you in disbelief, his mouth slightly open like he was going to protest, and you had to resist the urge to laugh. He was just too easy to tease. He leaned his head on your shoulder, trying to get you to look at him as he grabbed at the hem of your shirt. “Mommy…” Raab’s whiny, pleading tone made you smile, and you looked down at him casually, like you hadn’t just teased him and then pulled away. “Yes, baby?” He shot you a look of mild frustration, realizing what you were trying to do, and he buried his face in your shoulder, gently taking your hand and guiding it towards his lap, silently pleading for you to touch him again. You shook your head, gently stroking his hair and soothingly kissing him on the forehead. “Not yet, baby, if I keep touching you now then you might blow your load. We need to save that for tonight, when we get home. Just watch the movie for now and as soon as we get home I’ll touch you again.”

Raab shook his head. “I can’t focus on the movie now, (Y/n), I’m too hard. Can we just leave now?” You raised your eyebrows at him. “You wanna go ahead and leave early?” He nodded fervently. “Yes, please.” You could tell he really wasn’t all that interested in the movie anymore, and neither were you, so you nodded in agreement and the two of you stood up, gathering up your popcorn and candy and quickly making a beeline for the parking lot, Raab covering his crotch with his bag of popcorn to hide his erection as he got into the passenger seat of the car. The drive home was much faster than the drive to the theater, mainly because you went way over the speed limit and ran at least two red lights, and soon enough you were pulling into the driveway of Bam’s house once again, the two of you scrambling out of the car as fast as you possibly could. Bam’s purple Lamborghini was gone, which was how you knew him and Novak had left to go bar-hopping for the night, and you felt a pang of excitement when you remember that you and Raab were gonna get to use Novak’s bedroom for the night. You led him inside, and he started to head for the basement, but you stopped him with a grin. “Where are you going.” He stared at you in confusion. “Down to the basement? You said we’re having alone time.”

You shook your head. “We won’t be staying down there tonight! I got us an actual bedroom just for the occasion. Novak’s bedroom, to be specific.” Raab’s face lit up as he realized what you meant, and he smiled. “Oh, okay. Let’s go then.” You led him up to Novak’s room, feeling the giddiness that was practically radiating off of him as the two of you made your way up the stairs; getting to be in an actual bedroom for the night was a pretty big deal for both of you, since it meant you could be much louder and do a lot more than you could when the two of you fucked on his little bed in the basement (the openness of the basement meant that everyone else in the house could easily walk in on you or at least overhear everything you were doing). You quickly pulled Raab into the bedroom, closing and locking the door behind you, and you laid your stuff from the movie theater down on the bedside table, gesturing for Raab to lay down on the bed and wait for you. He went to pull off his shirt, but you stopped him. “Just lay down on the bed for me and I’ll take all your clothes off myself, baby.” He obediently laid down on the bed, hardly able to contain his excited impatience as he waited for you to finally give him attention. You took off your shirt and pulled your pants off, tossing them in a heap on the floor and leaving your bra and panties on as you made your way over to the bed, and Raab sat up with an eager look as he admired your scantily-clad body.

“You’re so pretty, (Y/n).” You smiled. “So are you, baby. Here, lay back and let me take care of you.” Raab obediently laid back against the pillows and you straddled his lap, leaning down to give him a soft kiss as you stuck your hands under his shirt to feel the warmth of his body; you pulled away long enough to help him take his shirt off and toss it aside and then smashed your lips against his once again, gently rubbing your fingers over the soft skin of his tummy and chest and playing with his sensitive nipples. He whined softly against your lips, lightly rocking his hips up against your body in a desperate attempt to get some friction against his bulge, and you pulled away, grinning at how red-faced and out of breath he was. “Aw, you’re so sensitive today, baby.” He blushed even harder, smiling bashfully as he bucked his hips up again. “It’s because you got me all excited in the movie theater.” You laughed. “I did, didn’t I? Here, let’s get these pants off so I can see how hard your cute little cock is.” You pulled his jeans off to reveal his white boxers, smirking at the large wet spot that was already starting to form. You could see his cock twitching through the fabric, like he was already dangerously close to cumming, and it really turned you. His body just so sensitive that it honestly kind of shocked you. You palmed at his bulge like you had at the theater, and he whined.

“Don’t tease me this time, please, I already feel like I’m gonna cum too fast.” You cooed over him, stroking his face with your free hand as your other hand continued to rub over his bulge. “Don’t you worry, sweetie, I won’t tease you too much. And even if you do cum too fast, it’s fine. You always do pretty well with your mouth, don’t you?” Raab grinned and nodded. “Yeah, that’s true.” The wet spot on his boxers was starting to get bigger, so you helpfully pulled them down off his legs and watched his cock slap against his flat belly, the tip bright red and steadily leaking precum. You stroked the underside of it with the pad of your thumb, and his belly jerked, a whimper leaving his lips as you rubbed a circle over his tip. You moved your hand away long enough to remove your bra, and Raab’s eyes lit up, his attention now focused on grabbing and squeezing at your breasts as you pulled your panties aside and wrapped your hand around the base of his cock to keep it steady as you hovered over the tip. Raab’s eyes went wide, and he released your breasts long enough to lean over towards the drawer of Novak’s bedside table. “Hold on, mommy, let me get a condom for you.” You stopped him, shaking your head with a grin, and he stared up at you in confusion. “Since it’s our anniversary, I figured maybe you’d like to try doing it without the condom?” When Raab finally realized what you were saying, his face lit up, his mouth dropping open in excitement. “I get to feel your pussy without a condom?” You nodded.

Raab looked even more excited than before, but then another look of confusion crossed his face. “Wait, so do you want me to tell you when I’m about to cum so you can pull off?” Your grin widened, and you shook your head again. “Nope. That’s your other anniversary present. You get to cum inside me.” Raab’s went as wide as saucers, and he stared up at you in awe, rubbing circles over your hips affectionately as he took in this new information. “Fucking you without a condom and I get to cum inside you? Best present ever.” You laughed, leaning down to press another kiss to his lips as you lined the head of his cock up with your pussy; Raab’s eyes were locked on the sight of his cock pressed against your entrance as he waited eagerly to feel your pussy without a condom for the first time, and as soon as you sank down on his tip, his mouth dropped open, a soft gasp leaving his lips as he took in the feeling. You smiled, leaning down to stroke his hair as you sank further down onto his shaft. “How does that feel, sweetie? You like that?” He nodded fervently, his hands grabbing at your hips in a desperate attempt to pull you down further on his cock so he could get even more of the feeling that he was clearly enjoying so much, and you indulged him, taking his cock all the way to the base and then keeping yourself still so he could savor the feeling of your wet, tight heat wrapped around his shaft.

He threw his head back against the pillows, his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth slightly open as he bucked his hips up, trying to push his cock even deeper inside you as you tightened up around him. “Fuck, mommy, your pussy feels so good around my cock.” You grabbed his hands and guided them back up to your boobs, letting him squeeze them in his hands and rub the pads of his thumbs over your nipples to try and distract himself from cumming too quickly; you could tell he was already getting close because of how red his face was how much his hips were jerking, but you decided not to say anything just for the sake of not embarrassing him. If anything, it always turned you on more when he came too quickly, and he could always just eat you out to make up for it. You pulled all the way off of his cock and then promptly took it all the way again, bouncing up and down on his cock at a steady pace as you leaned over to press your lips against Raab’s again. He moaned against your mouth, weakly thrusting his hips up in an attempt to give you some pleasure as well, but he was clearly already starting to get overwhelmed from how good it felt, his eyes half-lidded and his lips wet with his own drool as you pulled away from the kiss to get a good look at him. With the eyes, the lips, and his flustered face, he looked like an absolute wreck.

You stroked his hair, pushing his bangs back off of his slightly sweaty forehead as you cooed over him. “Poor baby, not even five minutes of fucking me raw and you’re already out of it. Wanna try being on top for a little bit?” His eyes snapped open, and he nodded eagerly, clearly desperate to be able to please you himself without you having to do all the work, and so you quickly switched positions with him, letting him get on top of you to fuck your pussy himself as he buried his face in your neck, thrusting with as much force as he could muster as he pressed sloppy kisses to your neck and collarbone. Your wrapped your arms around him, pulling him flush against your body so his hips were pressed against yours and his shaft was all the way inside you. You could feel his cock starting to twitch inside you, and soft moans were spilling from his lips as he pressed another flurry of kisses up the side of your neck; he was clearly close to cumming, and so you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled his face down into your boobs, rubbing your hand over the back of his head soothingly and bucking your hips up to help him fuck you with a more intense pace. Just as you were starting to wonder if maybe your worries of Raab not lasting long had been all for nothing, you felt Raab’s hips stutter repeatedly, his body starting to tense up as he buried his face in your boobs with a loud, whiny, desperate moan.

“Fuck, mommy, I’m gonna cum, I’m sorry—oh fuck.” His hips stuttered once again, and he grabbed at your hips, his fingernails digging into your skin as he came with a pathetic moan, his legs shaking and his upper body exhaustedly resting on yours as he jerked his hips to ride out his orgasm. You stroked his hair and rubbed his back affectionately to guide him through it, and when he pulled his head up, you realized he was starting to tear up and you immediately panicked, cupping his face with concern. “Oh fuck, what’s the matter, baby? What’s wrong? Was cumming inside me too much? Maybe I should have waited and had you do that another time, I’m sorry—” Raab shook his head, wiping his eyes as he tried to say what he wanted to say without actually bursting into tears. “I always cum before you do, mommy, I need to stop doing that. You should get to cum first. I’m sorry.” You wiped the tears from his cheeks and shook your head, stroking his face reassuringly. “Aw, baby, I don’t mind that you cum first, it’s really not a big deal. I like seeing you cum first, you always look so pretty and it makes me feel good to know that it feels so good for you and that it makes you cum so fast. You shouldn’t feel bad about it, baby, I promise. Here, let me get you on your back and then if you want to you—”

You moved to pull him off of you so you could lay him on his back and see if he wanted to either end the session there or finish you off with his mouth, but he instantly shook his head, pushing your hands away and immediately beginning to thrust inside you again. You stared up at him with alarm. “Chris? Baby, you just had an orgasm, if you keep going you’re gonna get overstimulated.” He buried his face in your neck again, shaking his head as he continued to weakly thrust his cock inside you in spite of how obviously sensitive it was. “I’m not stopping until I make you cum too, that’s all I want.” You felt a wave of affection for him, hugging him close your body and wrapping your legs around him as he thrust inside you again deep enough to hit your g-spot. Raab’s whole body was shaking, his hands desperately squeezing your sides and his eyes tightly shut as he continued to fuck you despite how sensitive his poor little cock was; the overstimulation was already setting in, and you felt a pang of worry for him as you wondered if him overstimulating his own body like this was worth him making you cum. “Raab, sweetie, maybe you should just use your fingers or your mouth, I really don’t want you to overstimulate yourself or get hurt doing this.” Raab frantically shook his head again, staring up at you with a pleasing look as he thrust inside you again. “No, mommy, please let me keep doing this, I wanna make you cum so badly, I feel so fucking bad about cumming inside you too fast.”

You rubbed his back, knowing he’d made up his mind at this point and couldn’t be convinced otherwise, but there was still that little pang of worry. Raab was usually exhausted after just one session, so there was no telling if he’d make it all the way through a second one. If you didn’t know any better, though, you would have thought he was actually getting off on it; his eyes had started to become half-lidded again, his mouth slightly agape as soft, vulnerable moans left his lips, and his cock still felt hard even though he’d already cum once. “Raab, sweetie…do you like this? Being overstimulated, I mean.” He pulled his head away from your chest, his face bright red as he nodded shyly. “It feels so good, mommy. Like it feels so good that it kind of hurts.” You raised your eyebrows, making a mental note to tuck that little piece of information away for the next time the two of you had sex, and then Raab’s tip hit your g-spot and you realized you were starting to get close to cumming yourself. “Oh fuck, sweetie, I’m almost there, just keep fucking mommy’s pussy nice and deep, just like that, perfect, baby, you’re such a good boy for me.” You spurred Raab on with your praises enough to give him the energy to thrust inside you a few more times, deep enough for his cock head to rub your spot but not powerful enough to completely drain him, and then you came around his cock, moaning loudly with his body pressed right against yours. You tightened around his cock as you came, and then, to your shock, you felt Raab cum again, his cock jerking pathetically inside you as a few more spurts of cum shot from his tip. As soon as the both of you had finished, Raab immediately collapsed on top of you in pure exhaustion, his face red and flushed and his hair all messy and his lips wet with his own saliva from all the drooling.

You cupped his face in your hands and made him look at you, fixing his hair and wiping his mouth and stroking his face adoringly as you smiled at him. “Raab, sweetie, that was incredible. That was so sweet of you to make sure that I came too, you’re so thoughtful. Here, lay down so I can clean you up.” Raab’s face went even redder, and he stared at you adoringly as he watched you grab the towel Novak had helpfully left on his bedside table. You cleaned up Raab’s cum from between your legs and then cleaned off his cock, careful to be gentle so you wouldn’t overstimulate it even more; it was so red and sore from being used so much that you felt a pang of pity. “Poor baby. You really wore yourself out, didn’t you?” Raab nodded exhaustedly, and you handed him a bottle of water, crawling into bed beside him and stroking his hair to comfort him as he chugged the water sleepily. When he finished, he set the bottle aside and leaned up to give you a kiss. “Happy anniversary, (Y/n).” You smiled. “Happy anniversary, my love. Sleepy?” He nodded, and you pulled the covers over the two of you, lying down and cuddling him to your chest so the two of you could enjoy a little cuddle session before you went to sleep. Raab leaned over to turn off the lamp and then looked down in confusion, leaning down to pull something out from under the mattress. “Is this a McDonald’s wrapper?” You sighed. “Why on Earth did I give Novak a whole pack of cigarettes for his shitty ass room?”

[owl127]

You’re probably so over the prompts about 3Cs but god you have a golden story here, I can’t stop thinking about it literally every day, imagining what could happen you know ? I’m a big fan of your work but this one is addicting, can’t wait to read more about this one, I’m looking forward anything, any prompt, any CRUMB

Anya was the luckiest woman alive.

She kissed Raven’s giggles as she tossed her wonder woman mask away, finding the girl’s mouth in a fit of laughter of her own. Raven sighed contently and made more room for them in the passenger seat. The 20-year-old Malibu groaned, but held firm as she spread her legs on top of Anya. Raven was always blabbing about how soon the car would be vintage, the old grandma holding firm for two generations of Reyes. That seat had seen its fair share of college kids making out on top of it, and Anya didn’t mind adding a few miles tonight.

As the windows fogged and pants grew unnecessary, Anya was ready to invite Raven back to her apartment, but a loud noise outside made them stop.

“If anyone hit grandma, I swear to God…” Raven said as she rolled the window down, the music from the Halloween party they had abandoned filtering inside.

“Lexa, wait!”

Anya was so ready to ignore whatever commotion was going on, but Clarke’s voice broke her away from Raven’s neck.

“Griffin?” Raven asked, but Clarke ignored the girls in the car as she ran past it.

“Clarke, let that shrimp go.” Another voice joined Clarke’s, and Anya peeked out the window.

She saw Lexa’s bee antenna stomping away, and Clarke was trying to follow in her cumbersome honey jar costume, but another woman stopped her. “Come on, Clarke, stay. I’m sure she’s fine.”

Anya growled when she saw Nia, the party host and also the host of one of the greatest sticks up her ass. Everyone on the lacrosse team hated Nia. She was on the team because of nepotism alone (her aunt dated their coach) and she made everyone’s life miserable with her lack of talent and many opinions.

She threw a mean party, though.

“Let’s go back.” Nia reached for Clarke’s arm, but Clarke shook it away.

“Everything alright, Griffin?” Raven opened the door, face steeled. She was the meanest pirate Anya had ever seen, with the fake parrot dangling from her shoulder adding to the character.

“Everything good, ladies?” Anya followed Raven outside without missing a beat, crossing her arms and glaring at Nia. Both Clarke and Nia seemed surprised at the couple leaving the parked car, though while Clarke showed relief at the sight of her friend, Nia bared her teeth in annoyance.

“Woods. Great to see you,” Nia said with the delicacy of a hammer. “Your sister just stormed out of here.”

“Clarke, do you need a ride?” Raven asked Clarke, ignoring the dick measuring competition going on between the two alphas.

Clarke sniffled, a tear falling on the rumpled card box that was her honey jar, and Raven helped her friend inside the car.

“I’ll drive her home.” Raven fished her keys from Anya’s back pocket — who knows how it ended there — and kissed her cheek.

“I’ll go after Lexa with my bike,” Anya said, returning the kiss.

Give it to Lexa to cockblock her sister.

Spotting the shaking bee was easy, but convincing Lexa to go back to Anya’s apartment took some time. Lexa finally relented under the frosty rain, her bee antenna squashed under Anya’s spare helmet as they drove away.

“I’m fine,” Lexa said between trembling teeth, though she sighed in relief when she held the steaming mug Anya placed in front of her. Her red, hard fingers thawed under the warmth, and so did her rage.

Anya eyed her sister, noticing the running makeup, the red nose, the stained bee costume. It wasn't always that Lexa looked like a mess, but that night was one of those days.

“Are we going to talk about it?” Anya asked, pouring honey into her own mug.

Lexa took the tiniest tea sip.

Anya would hate this so much less if making Lexa talk about her feelings wasn’t like pulling overgrown wisdom teeth. “Why did you storm out?” Anya probed, searching for an angle. “And why is Clarke upset?”

“She’s upset?”

Bingo.

Lexa’s red eyes widened, but then she frowned.

Anya checked Raven’s texts since they parted:

Raven Babe 00:37am

Griffin is crying.

I think they fought. Ask Lexa.

We stopped to get chocolate and honey. Her costume is surprisingly effective.

“Raven is with her now,” Anya said, flipping her phone face down on the table before Lexa could peek. “So, are you still drunk or?”

“Ugh,” Lexa said intelligently, lowering her forehead to the table. “Do I sound drunk?”

“You sound miserable.” Anya sat next to her sister, touching her shoulder and squeezing it. “So what? You had an argument while a little tipsy. That’s normal, Lex. Apologize to Clarke in the morning and it will all be good.”

Lexa lifted her head from the table, her eyebrows knit. She looked like a bee who had been expelled from the hive and left to die in the wilderness if that bee was also a little drunk. “I don’t want to apologize.”

A simmering kind of emotion bubbled in Anya’s stomach, and she recognized it as anger.

“What did Griffin do?” Her tone didn’t betray the surge in protectiveness for her younger sister.

Lexa’s head hit the tabletop again with a muted thud.

“Maybe I’m just overreacting,” she mumbled to the abused wood that had never seen a single coaster.

Anya breathed through her curiosity, giving her sister time to process her thoughts. Lexa had always been slow to make her opinions heard, but alcohol made it like walking through molasses.

Anya waited, as some big sisters were known to do. The good ones, at least.

“She laughed at me,” Lexa said, her voice as small as she looked. “Nia was talking shit about the team, as usual, but then she said things about me and Clarke—” there was that knot between her eyes again “—Clarke just laughed.”

“I’m sorry,” Anya said, the frown on her forehead the same as the one on Lexa’s. “But maybe she didn’t mean it that way?”

Lexa nodded solemnly, processing the idea in her inebriated brain.

“Clarke adores you, Lexa. Did she apologize?”

Pink blossomed over Lexa’s cheeks.

“Is that when you stormed out?” Anya asked, one eyebrow up.

Lexa nodded, but shameful consolation replaced her serious posture.

“Sleep it off,” Anya said, standing up. “It will make more sense in the morning.”

Lexa took an hour showering and used all the hot water. Anya would be mad about it another time, though she will hold against her sister the whole cockblocking thing. Anya had been looking forward to fuck Raven in her wonder woman costume.

Anya let Lexa sleep on the mattress that was usually under her bed, a little wet clump of teen hormones on the floor of her bedroom. She pretended not to, but saw the text exchange between her sister and her girlfriend, and sighed with a heavy sense of completion as Lexa drifted off to sleep.

Another night of being the best big sister ever.

Lexa 2:15am

I'm not mad

Clarke, I love you.

Clarke 2:15am

I love you too.

[mara-xx217]

A Brief Overview of Fear & Hunger

I made an earlier post about it here but I wanted to put it out in a long form just in case it would be easier to view.

I'll touch on the game's over all aspects and what it's about in this post.

If anyone is interested in hearing more about this game (or its sequel) feel free to let me know and I can go into greater depth!

FEAR & HUNGER

I love this game enough that I wanted to talk about it and show it off. As much as I do love it, I know full well that this is definitely not a game for most people. It’s unkind and unforgiving to beginners- even to veteran players- and it has a LOT of themes that center around things of a SENSITIVE and UNCOMFORTABLE nature. The content warnings in the opening screen isn’t simply for show and should be taken very seriously. With this in mind, I’ll be giving a basic look into the game so people that are curious about it, wanting to play it, or uncertain that it’s something they would be interested in will get a better feel for the game. That being said, as someone that has sunk a good amount of time into this game, I’ll say this:

It’s the meanest goddamn game I’ve ever played and I absolutely love the pain.

Warnings

There’s plain warnings for *extreme* violence, gore, sexual violence and drug use. They AREN’T kidding! I write horror erotica for a living. I’ve written some crazy shit in my time, and even I was left taken aback and surprised/shocked at some of the things that happened in the game. It doesn’t sugar coat anything and there’s definitely no room for weakness in the dungeon of Fear & Hunger, so take these warnings to heart. If you need some brief examples so you don’t waste your time:

First enemy in the game has a stinger dick and yes- he WILL use it for its intended purpose. 

Human sacrifice is okay!

Cannibalism is okay!

Blood orgies are a thing and it’s probably exactly what you’re expecting.

Child abuse! 

Pocket Cat (ew)

And one of my favorites (/s)- genital mutilation!

All of these are (pretty much) graphically displayed and not censored, so if anything of this is a major hard ew fuck NO for you, it’s definitely not a game for you. Which is fine, cause damn this game is fucking mean, as I stated before. But if you are still interested (or curious) then we’ll get into the very basics of what the game is, the playable characters, and the general feel for what an average (not Hardmode) run would look like. 

Playable Characters 

There are a total of four playable characters in the game, all of which act as a sort of separate “class” system, if you will. They all have their own abilities but every single teachable skill can be learned by any of the characters… IF the correct requirements are met. There’s lots of small, specific details when dealing with creating the character you want to play as (both as you start the game in the “backgrounds” section and in the game, itself, as you progress) but I just want to give a feel for exactly what they have to offer instead of the little things that will complicate things unnecessarily. For the moment, we’ll just see what (or who) we can play as in Fear & Hunger. 

Mercenary (Cahara) 

First of the four listed. He is the “rogue/thief” class, if you will. I highly recommend him for beginning players, as his perks are some of the most useful early on that remain relevant throughout the entire game. He can use any weapon type or any armour kind.

The Mercenary’s perks are as follows: Lockpick, Steal, Escape Plan, En Garde and Dash.

Lockpick: Exactly what it advertises- you can pick *MOST locks in the game (if it requires a Small Key, it can be picked, however some doors are “locked from the other side” and thus cannot be picked.)

Steal: Again, you get what you see. This is a skill you use in combat, which can award you with some pretty decent loot at the cost of a precious turn. 

Escape Plan: Pretty much as it states, it gives you a far greater chance of successfully running from/escaping a battle. Extremely useful, as you will be doing this… A LOT, regardless of how well equipped you are throughout the entire game. 

En Garde: Hold the skill button (SHIFT on keyboard) before an encounter gives you an extra move in battle. An excellent skill, as the only other way to get such an opportunity is through item/accessory/in battle skill usage. 

Dash: A special one, as this is something ALL characters are capable of starting with, as long as you choose the right options when creating a backstory for your character. Another perk I recommend for ANY player, regardless of their familiarity with the game. It’s something I, personally, cannot play with because you outrun most enemies with this bad boy in your arsenal. 

Decent starting equipment: a scimitar that does slash damage (great for early enemies) and a leather vest with okay defense.

Knight (D’arce Cataliss) 

Second of the four listed. She is the “warrior/knight” class, if you can believe it. She’s definitely a lot harder than the Mercenary in terms of not having a lot of perks to access different areas/items, but she makes up for this in her starting kit. She can equip any armour and wield any weapon.

The Knight’s perks are: Fast Attack, Defense Stance, Leg Sweep, Counter and Dash. Important to note: the ONLY perks you can choose for the Knight in the beginning are Fast Attack, Defense Stance or Dash. Leg Sweep and/or Counter can only be learned through special means in game, which I’ll explain when I go into depth about the Knight.

Fast Attack: Skill used in battle. Make enemy attacks more likely to miss and you gain an extra turn. Very good and likely a skill that would get you out of a bind if you have no choice but to fight.

Defense Stance: Skill used in battle. Prevents critical damage and greatly reduces the melee hit rate of enemies. It uses a valuable turn but the boons you receive will likely outweigh the risks of missing a damaging turn. 

Leg Sweep: There is a surprising use for this skill that you probably wouldn’t expect. (I sure didn’t.) It’s a skill used in battle that targets the legs that does damage. Obvious, right? Well… if you initiate a “fight” with a wooden door (just hear me out) it will break down the door. I don’t know what else to say other than it’s super useful but could be inconvenient to come by.

Counter: This is an unusual one. It’s a skill used in battle that causes your character to “brace for oncoming damage”, or guard (the in game option of a similar functionality), only with this skill, if any damage is inflicted on the character, a portion is directed back to the enemy. Definitely has its uses, though highly situational and likely something you would use if D’arce was a party member rather than the player character.

Something that makes the Knight highly attractive is her potential starting gear. She can start with either: Iron Spear (two handed), Iron Cuirass (very good defense), and Arm Guards (protects against limb loss), or Long Sword (good attack), Eagle Crest Shield (good defense), Plate Mail (excellent defense) and Leg Guards (protects against limb loss), all of which are EXCELLENT throughout the entirety of the game!

Dark Priest (Enki Ankarian) 

Third of the four listed. He’s the “mage/dark mage” class and pretty much a glass canon (a character with low health but has the potential for high damage output). Pretty tricky for first time players, as you need a pretty decent understanding of how magic works in the game as well as how to LEARN new spells.

The Dark Priest’s perks are: Counter Magic, Greater Blood Magic, Blood Sacrifice Pray, Necromancy, Mastery Over Insects, Pyromancy Trick, and Dash. 

It’s important to remember that perks are determined by the character’s backstory, though all can be learned later. The Dark Priest is especially tricky, as all of his skills rely on the Gods, which I will get into at a later time. 

Counter Magic: A skill that can be used both inside and out of combat. It improves resistances to different magic forms or even cancels some types out completely.

Greater Blood Magic: Increases the potential of all spells. It requires a greater in depth look, but think of every spell you learn getting an upgrade.

Blood Sacrifice: Remember when I said human sacrifice is okay? Yeah, there 

you go. Kill some unwitting bastard in a special place for a pat on the back by a specific God. 

Pray: This is something ALL characters can do immediately in game. It is done in specific places and increases affinity with a chosen God. 

Necromancy: Used to raise the dead. But only specific kinds of dead things. Cross your fingers and pray to Gro-Goroth. 

Mastery Over Insects: A passive ability that has a surprising amount of uses. You can talk to bugs. Yay! They give you hints and you can talk your way out of a few different scenarios…

Pyromancy Trick: Used in combat. Set someone on fire. Do it. You know you want to. 

Dark Priest has a lot of great potential, but he is weak physically. He has a low health pool and is unable to wield heavy armours or weapons. Again makes up for this with his magic abilities right at the beginning, but he’s tricky to plan out. Not great for beginners. 

Outlander (Ragnvaldr) 

Fourth of the four playable characters. He’s a sort of “ranger/tank” class. The Outlander has an interesting set of perks and possible starting equipment, making him close to the Knight in his usefulness. 

His perks are: Devour, Bloodlust, Marksmanship, and Warcry. 

Devour: Pretty much what you think. You can eat dead enemies. Well… some of them. Sometimes it’s not always a good idea…

Bloodlust: Used in combat. Your attack is increased but you no longer control when or how you attack. More useful if you have party members. 

Marksmanship: Passive that gives you the ability to shoot targets OUTSIDE of combat! Extremely useful, as it can save you a lot of heartache and stress if you’re unable to sneak around an enemy. Requires bow and arrows (duh). Activate on overworld with SHIFT.

Warcry: Used in combat. It directs all enemy attention onto you, giving your other party members a break and a chance to deal good damage. Dangerous to have all that attention on one character but has great use if your build supports this skill.

For his Marksmanship perk alone, the Outlander could be a good choice for a beginner. Some of his other perks require some set up and likely other party members, but it’s likely you would find at least one or two along the way in your trek through the dungeon of Fear & Hunger. 

It’s difficult to say which of the four would be the BEST for someone ill acquainted with the game, but my personal choice is the Mercenary. His perks are some of the best in the entire game and can make the experience much less painless given your expanded ability to access different items and areas. The Knight and Outlander are tied, depending on what kind of play style you prefer. The Dark Priest, though, is the hardest one to play for, especially if you don’t know what you’re doing. It’s mostly up to personal preference, though, as either way you’re probably gonna get fucked in the ass. (Metaphorically and literally speaking.)

Basic Hazards/Mechanics

There’s a lot of different moving parts in this game, but here’s a few basic ones you’ll be contending with throughout the entirety of the game:

Sanity

You’ll be immediately notified of this upon first entering the dungeon. Steadily over time, the player character and all party members will have their Mind drain when either in the dark or seeing things that are upsetting to them. Mind is what is used when either practicing magic or using character perks. There are different stages of fear, usually announced with some flavour text at the bottom of the screen describing what your character is feeling at the moment. The higher their fear, the less their attack rating will be and the more damage they will receive. It will also be clear on the Status Screen when the menu is brought up. If it gets low enough, it’s Game Over. The best way to restore it is through the use of Spirits, though you can also use a Pipe to smoke various… things. You can also restore it through less than conventional means, but a girl will never kiss and tell. And if your Sanity gets low enough… you can access a special “skill”, which could come in handy in some very, very special circumstances…

Hunger

This is the second thing you will be notified of when entering the dungeon for the first time. Like Sanity, it drains over time. Hunger has different stages, announced with some flavour text at the bottom of the screen, and will affect a character’s base health until treated. At the highest levels of Hunger, a character will be unable to walk and thus can only crawl. Feeding them will rectify this but the effects will linger for several minutes. When Hunger reaches zero, it’s Game Over. There are a variety of food things in game that can solve this status and even a perk dedicated to providing you with an easy food source… if you have the stomach for it. 

Enemies

There are a lot of enemies in the game. A lot… All of them can and WILL kill you in a manner of terrible ways, so be wary when thinking of initiating combat. Running away is always an option… though not always do you succeed. Most enemies don’t have to be engaged at all to make progress, so keep this in mind as you go deeper into the dungeon. A lot of the enemies are of an… upsetting nature as well, so be aware of that. You will see dick, tiddies and vagine, so yeah-

Traps

They are everywhere and nowhere where you expect to see them. You can:

Fall through the floor

Step on a pressure plate (and take an arrow to the knee)

Get sniped from a distance

And one of my favorites (/sss) stepping on a fucking rusty NAIL-

Watch where you are going for the sake of your tootsies. You can get some nasty status effects that will kill you if you don’t deal with them over a certain amount of time.

Status Effects

There are many status effects in this game, many that are situational and rare and some that are fairly common. A few that you will encounter often are: 

Bleed: Some weapons/attacks leave it behind. Can be healed with a Cloth Fragment.

Infection: A game ending effect that is all too common. Caused by certain enemy attacks or by the dreaded rusty nail. Can be healed by using a Green Herb.

Parasitic Worms: Yeah, that’s disgusting. Can be caused by some enemies or by eating Rotten Meat. Cured by drinking Worm Juice. (Sounds absolutely terrible but it is a cure not a cause.)

Poison: Some enemies can cause it or can be contracted by eating something you had no business putting into your mouth. Cured by using a White Vial or a Mix of Green and Red Herbs.

And this is only a few of the common ones. There are many more and some that are… just awful if I’m honest. They will be discussed more later.

What are you even doing in the dungeon of Fear & Hunger?

Every character has different reasons as to why they began their journey to the greatest shithole of Rondon, but they are all united under one, singular, unifying factor: Le’garde. He’s at the center of each character’s goal and it’s clear he’s meant for a greater purpose. What that purpose is, however, would be revealed as you uncover the secrets of Fear & Hunger. 

There are several different endings to the game, from one you can get right at the start of the game to ones that require a lot of planning and specific in game sequences to ones only accessible through specific difficulty modes. Most don’t end as you would expect them too and pretty much all of them end in some amount of tragedy or long standing dread. There aren’t many happy endings to be had here…

Depending on your knowledge of the game, it can take you hours to figure out what you’re doing or where you're going… Or it can take minutes if you are in the know. It also depends on if you are in the RNG (random number generator) gods’ good graces that day or not, because a BIG part of this game is… a coin toss! We’ll get into that more later, but know that one bad roll can doom your run, which is… fun. (/s) 

I recommend going into this game completely blind and see what you can figure out on your own. There’s a lot of little details hidden around that can help you on your journey and it makes the experience very enjoyable (in a sort of twisted, morbid curiosity and masochistic way) and it’s how the game is meant to be experienced at least on a first time basis. 

Death is common and you will die. A lot. There’s no shortage of ways you can die, many containing neat little animations (or traumatizing, depending on your definition) that are unique to various different coin toss “failures”. And sometimes, if you’re lucky (or not, again depending on your definition), a certain “Game Over” would simply be a change of scenery… and other things, but that’s only some of the time…

Wrap Up 

There is so much to cover in this game that it would take many different sections to do so. Different skills, different Gods to worship, different NPCs to interact with and different equipment options plus many, many different secrets you likely wouldn’t know unless you’ve been around in the fandom for some time… It’s got a great world that has been built upon a strong foundation and there is a metric fuck load of lore if you’re willing to slow down and enjoy the environment around you. If it’s not something you’d play, I highly recommend looking into it regardless. 

There is also a second game that further builds on the in game universe and I am thoroughly impressed with it. Both games are something I recommend lovingly with full knowledge that this game will cause pain and suffering to those that would dare to play it. I would like to go even further into detail about both these games because there is just so much to talk about and gush over and to bitch about. 

I really hope that this little rant piqued some interest in the games. Truly, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever played before and I can’t state enough how hard I fell in love with them.

@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @slutwithadegree, @dead-bxxxtch-walking, @space-arsonist, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire, @hoemine, @memoryofheather