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#for one !!! i'm going to call you a slur ! (white)
highpri3stess · 2 months
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I stopped taking my elder sisters seriously when started talking shit about African-American women, fat women and dark skinned women. So about five years now.
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cowboy-like-moony · 10 months
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How privileged do you have to be to think someone pointing out a privilege of yours is discrimination?
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From some of the discourse I've seen, I've gotten the impression that some people think intersectionality is like math. Let me explain.
Some people think of certain identities as universally giving privilege (we'll say these have a value of +1) and some as universally taking privileged/causing discrimination/bigotry/etc. (we'll say these have a value of -1).
And what I've seen is that people will add these values and decide how hard someone has it based on the value of the product.
For example: A white (+1) Christian (+1) gay (-1) man (+1) would have a score of 2, since 1+1-1+1 is 2. (Keep in mind I'm not saying people literally do this sort of math, though I have actually seen charts that do, it's more of a way of illustrating a way of thinking I've seen.)
The problem with this, of course, is that this isn't how the world works at all. Depending on where he lived and his situation in general, that white Christian gay man could be bullied severely, called slurs, or even beaten and killed--all things you wouldn't expect going off a score of 2--because intersectionality is not like math. And because, in some places, this man's gayness would overshadow all his other identities.
Also, this mathy way of looking at things fails to consider how identities interact with each other. For instance, (and this is something several of my mutuals, but especially @dysphoria-things, have discussed in the past) a trans man's identity as a man does *not* serve to "cancel out" his being trans in the eyes of society. First, many won't even view him as a man. Second, even if he is viewed as a man by a certain group, he still may be subject to less explicit forms of transphobia. Not to mention the expectation many hold that he perform his man-ness in order for them to keep seeing him as a man. There's a lot more to unpack here specifically, but the previously mentioned mutual has already done many many posts on this, and is more qualified to speak on this than I am as a cis person, so I suggest you go check that blog out if you want to hear more on this topic.
Another example would be one of *my* identity intersections. That of being aromantic and allosexual. Now, being allosexual (not asexual) is not a minority identity. However, it by no means "cancels-out" my aromanticism. In fact, the specific combination of this majority identity (allosexuality) with my aromanticism actually leads to some seriously nasty assumptions and stereotypes. Because what do you think goes through the majority of people's (especially conservative's) heads when they hear "Oh I'm attracted to people sexually, but not romantically." Nothing flattering.
Point is, intersectionality is not like math. Having a majority identity does not necessarily mean that identity will always be rewarded (especially depending on the combination with a minority identity), and also this way of thinking is one thing that can start people down the "oppression-olympics/who has it worst" route, which is helpful and productive to exactly no one. The world is complicated, society is complicated, and people are complicated. And anything boiled down this much is usually inaccurate enough to be useless or actively harmful. Thank you for coming to my TED-talk.
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xiayannie · 4 months
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𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 25𝐓𝐇 — 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 ღ
↳ xiao × fem! reader
he's your personal heater, who's always happy to warm you up
cw(s) : smut, grinding, riding, creampie, calls you his love, uses of the words; pussy, cunt, dick, cock | 𝐗𝐎𝐗𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭
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"xiao..."
"hm?" a small hum left his lips, his eyes dreary as they blinked away the drowsiness of the morning.
"it's so cold," you nuzzled closer to him in hopes of warming up, but to no avail. XIAO was now awake as he stared down at your visibly shaking frame. "want me to warm you up...?" he sighed as you nodded, before deattaching himself from you and crawling down under the blankets.
he pressed gentle and warm kisses down your skin before he spread your legs open enough for him to fit snugly between them.
XIAO made quick work of your panties, beginning to lick and prod his tongue at your entrance.
"h-hngh... ah~!" you covered your mouth as xiao slurped and lapped up your juices, bucking your hips into his face, your clit touching his nose as your breath hitched. your climax didn't take long as he soon had your legs shaking. "...m' cummminngg!" you slurred, gripping onto his hair tightly as you pushed his head even further into your cunt.
XIAO hummed, drinking up any of the last of your arousal before lifting his head up with a gentle smile. his lips glistened with your essence as he crawled back up to kiss you.
you melted into the kiss, already feeling warm, but you decided that you shouldn't be the only one feeling warm during this one particularly cold winter morning.
XIAO let out a soft "oh" of surprise when you flipped him under you, grinding back on his crotch. despite your sopping arousal, you were very much still drowsy due to the weather and comfort of the bed.
a small grin made its way to XIAO's lips as his hands gently guided your rutting hips. soft moans were heard in the room, as you both took the chance to appreciate the moment.
he halted his movement, sliding down his sweats to reveal his hard-on, which made a gentle slapping noise once it hit his stomach. XIAO held his cock in his hand, positioning it so that his blunt tip rubbed and teased against the wet folds of your pussy.
XIAO hissed, biting his lip gently as he slid in with ease, feeling the warm walls of your cunt envelope his length. you tried your best to raise your hips and bounce up and down on his cock, but you tired out easily, which left it up to XIAO to thrust up into your warmth.
"j-just like that... my love." XIAO sighed dreamily, hugging you intimately and closely to his chest. soft whimpers of his name left your lips as you melted into the pleasure and comfort of his presence, feeling happy that the two of you were connected as one.
XIAO's scent was earthy and almost sweet, but it seemed to turn even sweeter whenever the two of you were making love. his hair was messy, but his appearance made your stomach do circles because you knew that it was a sight for only you to see. on a day like this, he was busy whispering sweet nothings in your ears whilst he made a mess out of your dripping pussy.
your brain had turned into mush by the time you felt your impending release, murmuring a sweet and quick warning to XIAO about being "c-close... mmm, so close... x-xiao~!"
"it's okay... let yourself go for me." he let out a soft hum in reply, almost cooing softly to encourage you to cum for him. your nails gently scraped at his toned shoulders, shaking as you came on his cock.
a white ring had formed at the base of XIAO's cock, his hips still thrusting up and into to as he chased his own high. "f-fuck, I'm gonna shoot my load inside you..." he mumbled in a hushed tone, speeding up his rutting.
XIAO finally came in thick ropes as he felt you clench around his cock as his last straw, his mouth slightly open as his hips stuttered and bucked up into your cunt. you felt it ooze slightly out as his thrusts made wet squelching noises.
you pulled him in for a sweet kiss before collapsing onto his chest out of exhaustion. XIAO let out a small chuckle, sitting up and lifting you up, still seated on his cock.
"shower?" he nuzzled his nose against your cheek lovingly. "I'll wash you up, my love."
"...xiao."
"yes?"
"it'sss too cold." you whined out, wrapping your legs around his torso. XIAO huffed, standing up with you securely in his arms.
"then, I'll just warm you up again. like how I just did a bit ago."
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moonstruckme · 3 months
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also i LOVE your poly!marauders apocalypse au (so creative btw!! i'm obsessed!!) and would be so down to read something in that universe where the reader gets hypothermia or something like that hehe !!!! <333333
Thanks for requesting lovely!
cw: mild hypothermia
apocalypse poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words
You keep tripping, which is mildly embarrassing. You think it’s a combination of fatigue and the general numbness that’s pervaded your body even though the layers you’d put on when you’d packed up the campsite that morning. You’d all agreed that, with the death eaters on your trail, it’s really only safe to stay in one area for a few days at a time, even with all the protections you place around your sites. But that means days where, instead of lounging around your tent, listening to the radio and plotting for the Order, you use all the daylight you have to hike through the wintry woods until you’re far enough away to set up another camp. 
Sirius glances back when you stumble again, the toe of your boot catching on a branch you hadn’t seen buried in the snow. It’s a more dramatic affair than it should be, and you barely get your other foot out in front of you fast enough to avoid face-planting into the leaf litter. 
Your shivering worsens as another gust of wind burns your face, making your thick jacket feel like mesh. You think this has to be the worst moving day your group has had yet. The cold is the same, but the sun hasn’t so much as peeked from behind the clouds all day and the wind makes it nearly unbearable. The snow is thick enough that you’ve started stepping in the boys’ footprints to save energy. One of the many perks of taking up the rear. 
You nearly hit Sirius when he stops in front of you. 
“This clearing looks about as good as any,” James is saying, but Remus looks hesitant. 
“I don’t know,” he frets. “Do you think it’s far enough? We’ve been slow today.” 
“You’re tired,” James says kindly. You look at Remus, noting his slouched posture, the weariness he’s never quite learned to hide from his expression. You’re not sure how you didn’t notice his exhaustion before. You’re usually more aware of those things. “And it’s horrid out here. Let’s just call it a night, and if you’re still anxious about it tomorrow we’ll go a bit further.” 
“I can make it further tonight.” 
“It’s not all about you, Moony,” Sirius drawls. He looks especially monochrome against all the fresh white snow, you think. His superblack hair is as eye-catching as neon. “I’ve got a rock in my shoe I’d love to get out, and I know y/n’s knees have to be black and blue from the way she’s been falling for the past hour.” 
His scheme works; Remus looks to you, arguments of his own fortitude forgotten. “Are you tired, dove? You want to stop?” 
You shrug. “Yeah, I guess. It’s cold.” 
Suddenly all three boys seem focussed intently on you. You’re not sure why. You don’t actually recall much of what you’d been talking about. 
“Could you say that again?” James asks you. His brows are stitched together and his eyes have gone all sharp behind his glasses. 
“I just said it’s cold.” 
“Why’re you talking like that, doll?” Sirius takes a step toward you, then looks to Remus. “Why is she slurring?” 
“I don’t know,” Remus says softly. He’s looking at you weird, too. Frowny. “Yeah, let’s set up. Maybe she just needs a rest.” 
James spells the tent up quickly, then makes Remus stay and sit with you while he and Sirius set up the protections and everything else. The temperature inside the magical tent is cozy. Remus lights a fire in the grate to warm you all up. 
“Do you feel okay, lovely?” he asks, helping you out of your jacket. You sit on the bed, working off your shoes. 
“Yeah, just…just really tired.” 
He furrows his eyebrows, placing a palm on your cheek. You have no clue how it’s so warm, but a sigh escapes you as you lean into the touch. 
“When did you start tripping?” he asks you. 
You…you’re not sure. You can’t remember the first time it happened. How long had you been walking?
Your bemusement must show on your face, because Remus’ mouth pinches. His hand slides down to cup your face, fingers pressing oddly into your jaw. Frankly, you could care less where he puts them so long as he keeps touching you.
“Feeling better?” James asks, materializing behind Remus. You’re not sure which one of you he’s talking to, but you hum contentedly anyway. 
“I think she might be hypothermic,” Remus doesn’t look away from you as he talks, his eyebrows lowered like he’s waiting for you to answer a question you don’t remember him asking. His fingers press harder into your neck. “Her pulse is…scary weak.” 
James looks at you, and you look at Remus. 
“You really think so?” you ask him, befuddled. “I don’t feel…I’m only tired.” 
“Hypothermia makes you tired,” he tells you gently. “And you’re slurring your words, love.” 
You feel an icy tendril of fear snake around your spine. “I am?” 
“You’re alright.” James catches onto your panic quickly, leaning over Remus to give your shoulders a bolstering squeeze. “Let’s just get some of these layers off you, and then we’ll swaddle you in blankets.” He starts easing off your jumper, leaving you in just your undershirt. You’re newly cognizant of the sluggishness of your movements as you raise your arms to help him. “Once you sit by the fire for a bit, you’ll be feeling back to normal in no time.” 
You nod numbly, lifting your bum to tug off the jeans you’d worn over leggings. James takes the blanket from the bed and wraps it around you while Remus goes to find more in the other room. 
“Poor love,” James coos, dropping a kiss to your head. “You’re shaking like a leaf.” 
“No duh,” Sirius says, the tent flap letting in a blast of cool air behind him. “It’s fucking freezing out.” 
James offers him a sorry smile. “We think she’s got hypothermia.” 
Sirius sobers, stormcloud eyes flickering to you. “Shit, really? How bad is that?” 
“Not too bad, I don’t think,” Remus says, nudging past him with a stack of blankets in his arms. “I mean, it’d be great if I’d thought to bring any books on that sort of thing, but I’m fairly sure if it were bad she’d be more confused and a bit…blueish.” He drapes a blanket over your shoulders, letting James pull it tighter and tuck it about as he wishes. “Do you feel any better?” 
“I think so,” you say quietly. It’s a bit unnerving to be at the center of so much alarm like this. You do feel better being out of the cold, but you’re not sure if that’s what he’s asking. “It’s a little hard to tell.” 
“You don’t seem like you’re slurring as badly,” James evaluates. He cups the back of your neck, planting a kiss on the frozen tip of your nose. “I think you’re getting better already, lovie.” 
Your face certainly feels warmer. 
Sirius grins at your flustering, though it’s dampened by worry. “What about a hot chocolate?” he asks, tone unusually gentle. “Does that sound like it might help?” 
“I’m fine,” you say, and he disregards you immediately, posing the same question to Remus. 
“Would that help?”
Remus shrugs. “It could. Doubt it would hurt. James, love, I think she’s got enough blankets.” 
James frowns, peering through the layers of covering to find your face. “Do you feel warm enough, angel?” 
You blink, owlish. “I think so?” 
He shakes his head. “Sounds far from certain. More blankets it is. Sirius, get started on the hot chocolate.” 
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peachesofteal · 7 months
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That nurse au? Devoured it and it lives in my brain rent free. If Simon and Johnny notice the bruises on Nurse do they share looks? Maybe Johnny tries to gently ask about them? I loved this so much.
Anon is referencing this. The way nurse x ghoap has spread through my brain like a flesh eating bacteria is insane. And I can't actually answer this ask because I'm writing it as a fic but I'm happy to give you a little possible snippet/glimpse/ramble down below:
The tablet in your hand chimes, drawing your attention away from the vending machine and to it's far-too-bright-for-this-ungodly-hour screen, to where it displays a status change in red.
268: 38.5 degrees.
Fuck. You abandon your sub par dinner options for nearly sprinting to the room, slowing to a walk to take long, deep breaths before your knuckles are rapping on the glass. Get control of yourself. Simon is too perceptive. He will panic. It could be nothing.
You don't even bother acknowledging your thought process there, the truth that is starting to bleed from your heart, through your body like a disease. The reason why you check on them so often, the reason why you can't stop thinking about them, even when you're off shift. The reason why, when you go home in the morning to go to bed, you drift off thinking about Johnny's sleepy smile, or Simon's voice, humming in your ears.
"Hi." You whisper when you slip inside. He straightens a bit in the armchair, but you're happy to see he's using it as a recliner now, progress from last week when he wouldn't even let himself lean backwards, or fall asleep willingly.
His brow furrows above the black mask.
"Hey, everything alright?" Shit. You're not surprised, you were just in here, after all. Spending too much time sitting in the chair opposite him, next to Johnny, on your break before your patient fell asleep.
"Yeah, I ah... have to draw some blood." You really do not want to wake him up, or alarm Simon, but you also refuse to lie to either of them. You fire off a text to the attending on call, just to advise him of Johnny's temperature and the impending labs that he can expect, before sliding a drawer open as softly as possible and pulling out everything you'll need. You can feel his gaze burning a hole in your scrubs, his ever present scrutiny impossible to escape. Sometimes you think he might be reading your fucking mind.
"He just fell asleep." He protests, and you think, you imagine, that he's frowning behind the mask. You think you almost know what it looks like, strong mouth pulled downwards in consternation, wide jaw gnashed tight.
"I know, but he's running just a bit of a fever." He jolts, and you hold up a hand in caution. "It's not too high, so I'm not super worried, but we'll need to check his white cell count, just in case okay? And then we'll go from there."
"Post op fever is common." He repeats the words you told him last week, after Johnny's second surgery, the one where they went in for the pneumothorax complication, and you nod to reassure him.
"Right. So, just going to do a quick blood draw and get it downstairs so we can find out what's going on." Simon shifts uncomfortably, but nods. You squeeze Johnny's shoulder softly, before swabbing the spot on the inside of his elbow.
He blinks, eyes opening slowly, confused brow smoothing when he looks from his partner, over to you.
"There's our girl." He mumbles softly, and your face heats, eyes widening in surprise before you regulate your reaction. Simon coughs, loudly, and you shake your head with a nervous smile.
"Such a flirt, MacTavish." You tie him fast, fingers a little more clumsy than usual, off balance from hearing him say 'our girl', like you mean something to them. "I just need to get some blood and then I'll leave you in peace." He shrugs, but Simon grabs for his hand and squeezes it.
"Ah come on, Si." He slurs, but reaches to cup Simon's cheek over the mask, rubbing a thumb over the fabric.
"You're runnin’ a fever, Johnny."
"Ach. 's nothing." He brushes it off, but you watch how his eyes are slow to track Simon's movements. You casually glance at the monitor, noting his blood pressure.
"Could be." You assure him. "But can't be too sure, so we're going to check a few labs, alright?" He nods, sleepy, already falling back under, and you pull the needle, taping a small patch of gauze over the puncture in one fell swoop. “Alright. Let me run these down, and I’ll be back up to check on you in a bit.” You turn, stripping your gloves off into the trash.
“We’ll miss ye.” He whispers, and you roll your eyes playfully, even as your stomach clenches.
Simon’s eyes don’t leave you for a single second, not until the door is shut and you’re out of sight.
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kentopedia · 7 months
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NB, idea I thought you might like—you know those memes/stories of boyfriends who get drunk and tell their girlfriend something like, “You’re pretty but I have a girlfriend,” or whatever?
Nanami. Very red-faced and very seriously.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ THE BOYFRIEND TRAP — nanami kento
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OMG THIS IS SO CUTE !! it's so funny you mention it bc i've been thinking about writing something like this for a while now hehe. this gave me a perfect excuse to write something sweet bc i've been feeling so emotional about him
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it was satoru's idea to go out drinking. ironic, really, considering he was the one that had a soda in front of him, no more than half-empty, a refill after the first sickeningly sweet one.
across the restaurant, at the bar, gojo was talking with nanami, nodding seriously with a small grin as kento rambled on about something that he would probably regret spilling to the white-haired man in the morning. it was easy to get kento to talk with some alcohol in him; he normally kept things locked up tight, but once you got a drunk kento going, it was, truly, hard to stop him.
"you should get him home," shoko said, smiling from where her hands were set in her hands. "i'm afraid of what satoru is over there asking."
it was then that you noticed the phone in gojo's hands, not so subtly hidden behind the edge of the table, filming as kento waved his hands around in the air. nanami wasn't normally such a lightweight—whatever satoru had ordered him must have packed a heavy punch.
you sighed. "kento is going to kill him tomorrow." with that, you said goodbye to shoko and stood from the table, heading over to the two men conversing at the bar.
as you approached, satoru waved gleefully, not even trying to hide the fact that he was filming the entire scene.
"are you ready, kento?" you asked, grabbing your phone from your bag to check the time; it was later than you thought. "we should probably leave or we'll miss the last train."
"you're leaving? it's still so early," satoru whined, a dramatic pout on his lips. "i can just call ijichi-"
"you bother that man enough." you rolled your eyes. not to mention, kento would probably be mortified if his younger colleague saw him in such a state. "come on, ken-" you placed a hand on his forearm, but it was only there for a moment before nanami, politely, lifted it off his arm and gave it back to you.
"i'm sorry," he said, his expression one of complete seriousness, despite his reddened face. "i can't go with you."
you glanced over at satoru, who covered his mouth, trying not to choke on his laughter. "why not?" you asked kento, your eyebrows pulling together.
nanami stood straighter, his eyes hazy as he regarded you apologetically. his tie was loosened, and the top button of his shirt was undone, cooling his heated skin. "you're pretty," he said, slurring the words a bit. "but i have a girlfriend."
satoru's laughter escaped in loud cackles as he held the phone up higher, shoving it into nanami's face.
you blinked up at kento, a small smile pulling onto your lips. "you do, huh? you don't think i'm prettier than your girlfriend?"
he frowned. "no. of course not." kento's hair had come undone, two blonde strands falling over his forehead as he sifted through his pocket, pulling out his phone. he showed you the lockscreen; a photo of you smiling widely beside him as he kissed you on the cheek. "see how cute she is? she's beautiful."
you laughed, your cheeks warm as you took the phone from his hands. "she sure looks an awful lot like me, kento." giving the phone back to him, you showed him your own lock screen, another photo of the same day; this one was just of kento smiling softly at the camera, the orange sunset glowing against his skin.
he stared at the photo for a moment, studying it, as if unsure why you had a picture of him. then, his face cleared. "oh," kento breathed, looking back at you and then the photo, a realization erupting behind his eyes. "that's why you're so pretty."
you smiled, and tugged his hand to pull him away from the barstool. "you are very pretty too, kento," you said, and his cheeks grew redder, his smile lopsided from all the alcohol. "i'm glad i won't have to drag you out of here like a toddler." though you exhaled a sigh, it was more amused than anything.
waving goodbye to satoru, you led kento out of the restaurant, his arms stringing around your waist as he clung to you. he kissed your cheek, your temple, and you laughed breathlessly, pretending to be exasperated.
"i love you," he said, squeezing you tight. "you're my favorite person in the entire world." the letters were drawn out, the syllables meshing together as he stumbled onto his feet. you were certain he would've fallen onto the pavement, had it not been for the tight grip on your body.
he repeated the words again, i love you, i love you, like he couldn't get enough of the taste of them on his tongue.
the feeling of him around you was warm, and you leaned back into his chest, just as in love with him as he was with you. though, you couldn't help but mess around with him a little more. teasing him was, perhaps, the one hobby you shared with gojo.
"you love me that much?" you asked, but you still kissed him softly, grinning against his flushed lips. "two minutes ago you didn't even remember who i was."
he hummed, pressing a kiss to your top of your head, stalling you in the middle of the sidewalk. he dragged you close, staring at you with hearts in his eyes. "'m sorry, sweetheart," kento said, running a hand through your hair. "think i drank too much."
you laughed, lacing your fingers with his own. "maybe just a little."
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hecateslore · 25 days
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I just had to pick up little sister from a party cause she was like low-key drunk. Would you be able to do that scenario with papa Simon & and one of the kids
Asks are opeeennnn!
You were in a deep sleep when you were waken up by the sound of your phone ringing. Furrowing your brows when you realize the time, It was 2 in the morning. Simon, who was already up, barely asleep because his daughter wasn't home, he's already going for your phone. "Nova?" He says, voice deep, "No Mr. Riley, It's actually Sam." NovaLynn's friend says on the other end, "Sam, are you guys okay?" His heart beating in his chest, extremely hard.
"Me and Lynnie came to this party and well-" the young girl stumbles over her words, "Where are you?" Simon doesn't miss a beat, getting up and getting dressed. You were still confused on the bed. "Where's Nova?" He asks, pausing for a moment.
"She's here in the bathroom, with me, she had too much to drink and now she says she needs to go to the hospital." Simon lets out a grunt, "Talk to Mrs. Riley for a moment." He hands you the phone. Leaving the room to tell one of the boys you guys were going out to get their sister.
"Come on," Simon says, "I don't have pants on." You say slipping out of bed, "Find some." He's snappy when he's worried, always assuming the worst is happening.
You guys are both in the car, Simon's eyes are on the road while he's white knuckling the steering wheel. "This is the first and last time she hangs out with that girl." He mumbles, You let out a big sigh. "Simon they're kids, this was gonna happen sooner or later." You look at him, his shoulders are tense, he's biting the side of his cheek, just like he always does when he's mad.
When you guys find the house, he calls Nova's phone and waits outside of the car, Thats when Nova walks out of the house with her arm around Sam, "Dad I need to go to the hospital," She wails, Simon rolls his eyes and opens the back door for both of the girls.
"What's your home address?" He asks sam through the rearview, "Can I stay with Nova?" She looks over at you, "Sam, It's better if we get you home?" You give a polite smile. "Daddy my stomach," Nova cries, Simon says nothing. Sam eventually gives you her address, and you when you get there, you walk her to her front porch making sure she knocks. "Sammantha?" Her dad asks confused, "They were at a party." You say casually, "I'm Sorry?" He looks at his cc daughter.
You walk back to the car after exchanging info of what you thought you knew was going to happen. "Well thats done." You sigh, putting your seatbelt on, "Mom, I'm gonna throw up." Your daughter slurs from the backseat. "Hold it." Simon says sternly, "Stop," You pat his shoulder, "Open your door and stick your head out."
"I don't think I can," She whines, "So don't, keep your door closed and sit there." Simon scolds.
You guys get home and you sit on the rim of the bathtub holding your daughters hair while she hurls into the toilet. "I just want to lay on the floor." She says, "No, that's nasty," You grab her by her arms, lifting her between your legs. Her head resting on your thigh while you comb her curls out of her face.
"My dad's mad isn't he." She mumbles into your leg. "You bet." You say feeing her forehead for a fever. "You can sleep with me tonight," You say softly watching her eyes slowly close, "Cmon baby." You try and lift her, obviously she's now to big to manhandle her off to your room like you used to.
"Simon," You call for him, and when he comes, he looks at your daughter asleep between your legs, "Put her in our room." You say combing her hair. Simon picks her up and takes her to your guys room, placing her on the bed softly. Watching her sleep so peacefully like she didn't give him a miniature hear attack an hour ago.
The next morning she wakes up, looking like last nights decisions. "You have fun?" Simon asks, eating some granola still mad. Her shoulders slump as she slides in one of the chairs next to her brothers who dared to say nothing, so Simon wouldn't bite their heads off.
"Food," You put the plate in front of her, "You'll feel better." You say, placing a hand on her shoulder. "My stomachs hurting.." She says quietly, "That's too bad." Simon takes a seat before her, both of the boys heads are down, poking at their plates. "Eat." he points to her plate, "Simon," you warn.
"Can I just go lay back down?" She looks at you with pleading eyes, "No." Simon cuts you off before you say anything. Nova slumps back in her chair, trying to eat her eggs, almost gagging every time she gets a piece on her fork. "You and Sam aren't hanging out anymore," Simon starts, "Why?" She shrieks, "What if you got alcohol poisoning last night, or some one was stupid last night."
"Oh my god," she kisses her teeth, "It only takes on stupid decision" Simon holds up a finger, "Can I go mom?" Jude asks, finished with his plate, "Yeah,"
"No." Simon bites, "Simon, hush." You shush him, "Boys go." They both scurry to the living room. "I'm not gonna do it again, I'm sorry, I'll never go out and have fun, You happy?" She says,
"I'm extremely happy, now give me your phone and don't even think about using your computer." Simon yells, "This is so stupid, I can't do anything." She pushes her plate away from her and gets up to go to her room.
"Am I Insane for wanting to protect my daughter." Simon looks at you confused, "Yes!" Nova screams from her room upstairs, "You be quiet." He yells back, "Now I can't talk anymore!?' She screams, making you roll your eyes at both of their bickering.
"No you can't!" He screams from his chair.
"Shut up!" you scream at the two.
203 notes · View notes
0oolookitsme · 6 months
Text
So Despicable
Type - A One-Shot (yet again!)
Verse - Singer!Harry x Ceo!Y/n
Word Count - 2.1k
Warnings - Uses of degrading slurs such as slut and whore. Do not read if that's not your cup of tea!
A/n - Legit posting this an hour late and I'm sorry! I just finished proofreading and am right away posting this. Not exactly my best, but it's good! Hoping you'll think the same hahah <3
Kinks - Sir Kink, Degradation Kink, Choking and Begging (if you squint)
KINKTOBER MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST
Please rb to share!
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As she turned the lock of her house, Y/n felt like her knees would simply give out if it took one more second to get the door to open. On the final twist of the key, she pushed the door open and immediately swung her purse on top of the shoe rack.
Bending to undo her heels, she left them thrown there and walked further inside the house. She was confused when she didn't find Harry downstairs but nevertheless poured herself a glass of water.
If he weren't down here, then he must be up in their bedroom or his office. Dreadfully, she climbed up the stairs, her shoulders droopy and her back aching after the long day. "Harry?" She called out, hoping that he would hear her and come out. Alas, he didn't.
She looked around in all the rooms before going inside the bedroom, dropping her body onto the mattress right away. After lying in silence for no more than a few seconds, she got up and fished her phone out of her purse – pressing on Harry's contact before putting the phone on speaker and stripping her clothes.
"'ello?" He answered, his voice serious in a way that made her doubt if he didn't know it was her on the other end of the call.
"Where are you, H?" She questioned him right away, picking the phone back up when the only clothings on her body were her under garments. "Searched the whole house, didn't find you."
It was silent for a moment, and Y/n felt that something was off. "I'm in the gym, didn't hear you come in," he said in that same tone and it was starting to make her skin crawl.
"Oh, I didn't check the gym. When are you going to be done?" She asked, fidgeting with her fingers as her mind raced a million miles per second to come up with all the things that she could've done or said wrong.
Yet, she came up empty. Harry wasn't the one to go to gym after noon, it happened rarely – mostly if he had been out and about during the morning time. So, it was clear that he was avoiding her.
"Dunno, should be done in half an hour," he said and she could tell he was doing push ups or something else by the sound of his strained voice and heavy breathing.
"Okay, I'm going in the shower," Y/n told him before he agreed and cut the call.
Taken aback, she shut out the situation before jumping into the shower and letting the warm water wash away all the stress off her muscles. After rinsing her hair rid of the shampoo, she came out of the shower, water still dripping from the ends of her hair.
When she turned around, her hand immediately went to her chest on a sharp intake of breath. "Fucking hell, Harry," she exhaled deeply, heat creeping up the back of her neck once she realised how ridiculous it was of her to get scared by the sight of him seated on their bed.
She just hadn't expected him to be there, that's all. "I'm sure there's still water left, I didn't shower for too long," she told him while walking towards their closet.
"Drop the towel and come here," Harry said, his voice deep and low. She couldn't help but ask him to repeat himself, caught off guard. "I won't repeat again, Y/n. Drop the towel, and come here," he said again, this time weighing down on each word as he spoke.
His arms were crossed across his chest, the veins more prominent because of his recent workout session. One of his legs dangled off the bed while the other one was folded. Nothing but a white undervest covered his upper half, a short pair of shorts clinging to his thighs.
Hesitant but because of her trust in him, Y/n dropped her towel and walked to him. Uncertainty and anticipation caused her hands to start fidgeting again. Slowly but surely, she reached right where he was sitting on the bed, her hands seemingly frozen on her sides as she stood upright, unable to move any further.
"Lay across my lap," Harry said, unfolding his leg and laying it straight on the bed to make the spot comfortable for her.
Y/n did so, all of the silence and holding-back of Harry was causing her brain to spiral. But one thing she knew was that whatever was coming, it wasn't going to be very holy.
She felt Harry's cold hand grab her ass before he started massaging it. That's when she knew she had surely done something wrong, because he was punishing her.
His palm met her ass cheek with a sharp blow, causing her to jerk forward. "Count for me," he told her, kneading her other cheek before hitting it with the same blow.
"2," Y/n counted, her voice shaking with thrill.
Harry watched her bum jiggle at the impact, the skin already begining to grow red. He stopped kneading the skin by the fifth blow when he couldn't hear pain in her voice. Now, he was just spanking – one side before the other. He was going at a fast pace, his hits unrelentlessly hard as he finally began hearing despair in her voice.
He kept going, not giving the skin much time before slapping it again.
"P-please, Harry–" Y/n stuttered, stopping when he gave a especially hard hit on her ass.
"What do you say? Have you forgotten your manners?" Harry said, his voice sterner than ever and Y/n was beginning to feel like he was being unnecessarily mean to her.
"Sir – It's Sir." She blabbered, answering him as if he would give her a reward. Yet, she was met with another hard spank. "W-what-ever have I done wrong, Sir?" She asked desperately, still lost on the cause for this side of him boiling up to the surface.
"A pathetic mess already? Can see your cunt glistening," he mocked her, swiping one of his fingers through her folds. "What have you not done wrong today? Cut my calls, answered back in short answers as if I were wasting your time, didn't even tell me if you were going to be back for the night or not," he answered her, massaging her bum.
"Didn't even apologize to me," he said, his eyes fallen into angry slits as he slapped her ass harshly.
He pushed her off of his lap and watched her roll over, unable to balance herself and get up. "Can't do anything right, can you?" Harry said as he pulled her up by her shoulders and sat her on her bottom.
She moved around, her bum hurting too much for her to sit on it. "Hurts," she whimpered, the corners of her eyes moist and wet hair sticking to the skin on her back, neck and forehead.
"Of course it does. Wouldn't have done it if it pleased you."
Both of them knew it pleased her. And if they didn't, then her juicy cunt would have surely given her away. She sat on her calves in front of him, her hands in her lap as she looked anywhere but in his eyes.
"Still, you aren't apologizing." Harry pointed out, causing her to flush. But before she could say anything, Harry pushed at her chest so she would fall on her back on the soft mattress.
Her legs immediately fell open in order for her to get comfortable, and just as she took notice, Harry's hand had already met her pussy in a harsh slap.
"Instead, you're pathetically dripping out of your hole," Harry sneered, slapping her puffy pussy again. A wet noise came from the impact and when he brought his hand back up, the string of her arousal connected them.
"So despicable you are."
Y/n jerked each time Harry hit her cunt, her thighs aching to close and protect her core yet she knew better than to do that. She counted each hit and once she counted the tenth slap, Harry dragged a finger across her dripping hole and covered her clit with her own arousal.
"I've been punishing you over here, and you've done nothing but drip out of that needy hole and blabber out the shit I've asked you to." Harry said as if he were disgusted. "Can't think of anything else with that dumb little brain of yours, can you?" He tsk'd at her, shaking his head.
He pinched her clit, laughing hoarsely when she instinctively closed her thighs shut. "Hook your hands under your knees," Harry instructed her and once she had done that, he was glad to have full access to her pussy.
He pinched her clit again, this time not releasing the hissing hold. With his other hand, he filled her hole with two of his fingers right away – sliding them in and out with great ease due to her wetness.
"Such a poor little thing you are, getting off on being a pretty whore – on me being mean to you," Harry crooned.
When she started to moan, he took her panties that she had taken off of herself before going into the shower, and stuffed them into her mouth. Pathetically enough, she hadn't stopped moaning even with the cloth in her mouth. The noise came out muffled, which Harry seemed to enjoy.
He then created an unrelenting pace, his back crouching in order to give all his strength in fucking her. He was still pinching her swollen clit, a grin plastered on his mouth as he heard the wet noises her pussy was making.
Her clit had grown red in colour due to his harsh pinch that didn't seem to know how to release its hold. "Fuck – fuck , sir. Sir I'm coming, I'm coming I'm so close –" Y/n stuttered as her body shook violently, her face scrunched up in pain and pure ecstasy.
Her body burned and her pussy pulsed as Harry continued fucking her with his fingers mercilessly. "What do you say?" Harry cooed at her, impossibly increasing his pace. "What do you say, my darling slut?"
Her eyes glazed over at the slur, tears springing in her eyes as she felt the knot begin to lower in her tummy.
"Can I please– please cum, Sir?" She said with great strain in a voice, like she was holding back.
"Why are you holding back? Not going to comply with your sir, hm?" Harry asked her his voice shaking due to his violent movement. "Guess I'll just deny you the permission, then."
Harry got off on dominating her. After all, she dominated all of the people around her, especially the ones in her office. She always had a hunger to control people, so the fact that he got to control what she would do or not do, dominate and manhandle her, and be mean to her like she was to most of her employees who deserved to be fired, he felt absolutely euphoric.
"Can I please cum," she cried out, her body shaking vigorously. "May I – may I please cum, Sir?" She cried again, repeating her request until it turned into beg for him to let her cum.
"Please, Sir!" She yelled, knowing that she wouldn't be able to hold back. "Please – please, let me come Sir," she kept on begging.
"Ah okay okay, don't need to be so annoying about it," Harry rolled his eyes, watching in amazement as she became a shouting mess.
He felt as her walls clenched around his fingers, and pinched her clit a bit harder. He heard her let out a final cry before she finally gushed all over his hand.
He maintained his pace as her cum spurted around due to his force. She arched off of the bed and pushed into his hand while heaving gibberish. "Fuck – fuck," she stammered, when he stopped and put his mouth on her – lapping at her as if he hadn't quenched his thirst all day.
"P-please, sir – sensitive," she whimpered, now trying to pull away from his mouth but unable to do so because of the position he had put her in. Her legs ached, but his palms laid flat on the back of her thighs as he sucked at her clit.
Harry finally detached his mouth from her and rose up, wiping his mouth with the back of his clean hand. He put the hand that was covered in her juices in front of her mouth, and ordered her to suck.
When she licked his hand clean, he wrapped it around her neck in a choking manner and weighed on it when he leaned down to get closer to her.
"See? You can be good, too." He grinned, pecking her cheek as she turned her face away from him to hide her rosy cheeks.
"God, I love you no matter what you be – my pathetic slut or my pleasing little darling," he chuckled, nipping at her jaw.
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phoward89 · 4 days
Text
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Masterlist
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Dark!Coryo, Dark!Peacekeeper Coryo, Innocent!Reader, Delulu!Coryo, obsession, manipulation, toxic relationship, drinking, cussing, oral (f receiving), p in v, squirting, creampie, dubcon, breeding kink, degradation, uh that's about it
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Chapter 5:
According to the clock tacked up behind the bar it was past midnight. Your brother was still perched at the bar, knocking back moonshine and staring at you and Coryo. He's been watching the two of you all night go back and forth between the dance floor and a wall side table. Seeing you so enchanted by Private Snow along with being introduced to his fellow Peacekeepers pissed him off.
If it wasn't for Ashlie plying him with moonshine and reminding him with harsh whispers that he can't make a scene because she can't afford to lose her job, well, he would've started shit with Coryo. But, since he had booze flowing freely at his beck and call he decided to stay put on his bar stool. Plus, he has to admit, even in his inebriated state, that the family couldn't afford Ashlie to lose her job. Hell, it was bad enough that you lost your job.
And now your brother's starting to think that maybe the Doula running the apothecary shop fired you because she felt uneasy with Private Snow hanging around you. Hey, Rein knows that you had to meet him somewhere; it only makes sense that you met him in town. In the Merchant's Sector while working.
Your brother was over everything. He did his best to raise you, but you seem to be cut from the same cloth as your mother. Rein never liked his stepfather, Colonel Javanis Halvir, and he never told you about him or the truth about how he died. About how both of your parents died.
But if you keep hanging on Private Snow as if the sun shines out of his damn asshole then he might have to tell you the truth. As a scare tactic. A warning to stay away from the pretty boy peacekeeper that's wooing you with twisted words and pretty pearly white smiles.
“Stop staring at that peacekeeper like you want him to drop dead, Rein.” Ashlie ordered her longtime boyfriend in a long, drawn out huff. When her only reply from him was a squint of his Seam grey eyes, she sighed. Looking between your brother and you, as you sat on Coryo's lap sipping on moonshine, Ashlie told your brother, “I'll have a talk with her in the morning about him.” Patting his arm before going over to a customer, she added in, “I'm sure this is just a passing fancy.”
“If she's anything like my mom, well, it ain't just a passing fancy.” Rein slurred, knocking back his shine.
His eyes narrowed disapprovingly as he watched Coriolanus motioning for you to stand up; setting your shine jar down only to stand up after you. He couldn't make out what was being said, but it looks like Coriolanus and you are saying your goodbyes to a couple of his peacekeeper friends.
Goddamnit, he hopes you don't do anything stupid tonight.
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You and Coryo walked back to your place from the Hobb side by side. In fact, he had his arm snaked around you; keeping you tightly glued to his hip. The smell of smoke and shine heavily lingered on the two of you. Even in the fresh summer's night air, the stench of the Hobb was heavily stained on you.
“Look, that's the North Star.” You pointed out the star that is used by sailor's and such for navigation. “I read that sailors and military men use it like a compass, if they don't have one, during the dead of night.” You explained, looking at Coriolanus with a smile as he looked up at the bright star shining in the black velvet sky. “It's also known as Polaris.”
“I've never seen it before, darling. The bright lights of the Capitol doesn't make stargazing very easy.”
“We can always lay in the meadow and stargaze sometime if you want.” You offered as you and Coryo continued on your way to your house.
“We'll do it one night, but not tonight.” Coriolanus told you. His breath was hot against your ear as he huskily said, “Tonight I'm going to show you how much I love you.” Pressing his lips to your temple, he crudely promised, “I'm going to fuck you so good tonight, baby.” Giving you a wide, eccentric grin, he added, “And it's all because I love you.”
You felt your heart racing a mile a minute in your chest at the implication of his words, his promise. Were you ready for that? To be fucked. Honestly, you weren't sure.
Coryo was so charming and nice to you. He’s also so devoted despite not being with you that long. And he claims to love you.
So why are you so nervous about his plans for tonight? Is it because you've never done that before or is it something else?
A sloppy wet kiss on your jawline, near your ear, accompanied by a deep husky question of, “You ready for me to make you mine tonight, baby girl?”, shook you out of your mental musings.
Worrying your lip, you slightly pulled away from your platinum blonde peacekeeper and honestly told him in a small nervous voice, “I dunno, Coryo. I've never…you know…been with anyone or been in love before.”
The peacekeeper stopped you both dead in your tracks, only to spin you around and take hold of your face. Squishing your cheeks in his large, calloused hands- his long fingers brushing into your hair, Coriolanus firmly told you with lust in his deep baritone, “I love you, Y/N, and you love me too. I'll always love you; tonight’s time for us to act on our feelings.” Pressing his forehead against yours, he promised, “If you're scared of me fucking you and leaving, don't be. I swear, I'll never leave you. Death itself can't even separate us.”
You still felt nervous, but his romantic words had you giving into his desire. Albeit relentlessly, you agreed to let him make you his tonight in every sense of the word. Your easy cooperation had Coriolanus grinning triumphantly from ear to ear.
Gesturing to your nearby house with a tilt of his head, your boyfriend suggested, “Let's get inside; make ourselves comfortable in your room.”
“Okay.” You simply nodded, although your heart was heavily beating against your ribcage.
You knew that as soon as you walked into your house and entered your room with Coryo that things between the two of you would never be the same again. That things would be serious and binding since he swore to never leave your side once he made love to you.
Well, he said the word fuck, but you'd prefer to say making love since it sounds better. Or at least to you it sounds less crude.
But in time Coryo’ll have you saying fuck too, cause he's not a ‘making love' type of man.
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The only light in your small room came from the moonlight streaming in from the window. The silver light cast a glow on your naked body as you lay in bed, chest heaving as you wither under Coryo's touch. His head was between your shaky legs, which were slung haphazardly over his squared shoulders.
The only sound in the room was that of your wet pussy squelching obscenely as he fingered you, faster and faster, while using his tongue to flick and lick your clit.
“Coryo…” You mewled, feeling the coil tighten in your lower belly, as you fisted your faded white sheets.
Resting his head against your inner thigh, while continuing to pump his long fingers in and out of your cunt, he told you, “You're close, baby.” In between placing open mouth kisses along your inner thigh, he asked, “You want me to make you cum? Hmm, darling?”
Of course you want him to make you cum. Your head's spinning and your core’s throbbing. There's an itch inside of you that you desperately need scratched; Coryo's the only one that can do that for you. He's the one that has you teetering at the edge of an intense feeling you've never felt before. Of course you want, no need, him to tip you over the edge into nirvana.
“Yes.” You whine. Nodding your head rapidly, you babble, “Please, Coryo, please make me cum.”
Coriolanus' hot breath fans over the soft skin of your inner thigh as he chuckles, hearty and deep, at your response to his question. It amuses him how he has you, a sweet and innocent girl, squirming and begging under him like a seasoned wanton whore. Only for him tho.
Only for him.
Coriolanus moved his fingers faster inside of your tight wet hole while bringing his lips back to your clit. He sucked hard on the swollen bundle of nerves before using his prominent nose to press against it, hard, while running his tongue sloppily over your folds. He was lewdly eating your cunt with such hunger, such vigor.
Your sweet juices tasted heavenly to him. God, he swears you're the best pussy he's ever tasted; he can't get enough of you. He's literally inhaling you as he laps at your folds, sucking your nectar into his mouth as if it’s a magical elixir to cure everything wrong with him. His nose continues to press into your pearl, making friction that sets your nerves on fire. That paired with the curl of his rough fingers hard and fast against the special spongy spot inside of you and his tongue messily passing thru your puffy petals has you seeing stars.
You cum with his name falling from your lips like a prayer, legs quaking and squeezing around his head. Your head thrashes around on your pillow as he continues to eat your cunt while you ride out your high. Coryo's got his hand, the one that's not stuck inside of your pussy, firmly holding down your lower stomach; preventing you from bucking your hips.
As your breathing steadily evens out, the platinum peacekeeper pulls his fingers out of your cunt and lifts his head. Pressing a kiss to the inside of one thigh, then the other, he tells you, “You've got such a sweet cunt, darling.” Pushing himself up, he raunchily smirks, “Sweeter than honey.”, before sucking your juices off of his fingers.
Your eyes are blown wide by lust and intrigue as you watch Coryo, kneeling between your spread legs in nothing, but his white boxers (which has a wet patch of pre-cum staining them), sucking on two of his long fingers with such erotic fervor. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat and your pussy grew wetter while watching Coryo's eyes flutter as his tongue swirled around his fingers; gathering up all of your juices.
Coriolanus pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a loud, wet pop. Moving off the bed and pulling down his boxers, he smirked, “You're so wet and ready for me, my darling.”
Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head as you took in the sight of Coryo's cock. You've never seen one before, but by the looks of it, well, you knew his was big. It had to be at least 8 inches; was thick too with veins running alongside it. His tip was angry and red, leaking precum.
Coriolanus saw you warily eying up his cock as he took his place kneeling on the bed between your spread legs. Using his hand to spread his pre-cum on his length, to use as lube, he began to give himself a few prep pumps. All while darkly smirking, “Gonna split you open with my big cock, baby.”
Since Coryo's the only man you've ever been with, you're not used to dirty talk. It did turn you on, but you do feel a bit- dunno- flustered by it too. Everything felt like it was happening too fast. Yes, everything you're doing with him feels good, but…still…everything seems so rushed.
As if Coryo has to have you. Has to stake his claim on you.
Well, he does have a primal need to possess you; to own you, but you don't need to know that.
No…
All you need to know is that your boyfriend loves you; wants to show you how much by fucking your brains out and taking your virginity.
“Coryo, is this gonna hurt? I've heard it hurts the girl for the first time.” You ask, looking up into icy blue eyes with apprehension in yours; killing the mood for dirty talk.
Seeing you worried about him hurting you was like a dagger to Coriolanus' heart. He'd never hurt you (not intentionally that is) and he really wants you to enjoy sex. He doesn't want you shying away from it. Hell, he wants you to be comfortable with him fucking you 7 ways til Sunday.
Coryo stopped stroking his cock, only to take your wrists in his hands and place them on his shoulders, all the while giving you assurances of, “Y/N, baby, I won't hurt you. I know I'm big, but I prepped you; your wet enough so I'll just slide on in.”
Nodding, you ask, “Can you go slow?”
“Yea. I'll go slow, baby.” Coryo promised with a kiss before teasingly sliding his cockhead up and down your folds; bumping your clit once or twice too. Lining himself up with your tight hole, he said, “Just hold onto me and try not to be too loud. Yea?”
“Okay.” You nod with a timid smile, hands resting on his shoulders, as he holds onto your hip with his free hand.
Coryo pressed a lingering kiss to your lips before pushing his cock into your tight cunt. The feeling of his tip entering you and stretching you out for the first time stung. But it also felt good in a way that you couldn't describe. Your wet hole greedily sucked in his length as he slowly pushed into you.
Damn, does Coriolanus think that your tight cunt feels good around his cock. He wants nothing more than to just snap his hips and bottom out deep inside of your tight, wet canal, but he was holding back- barely- because you asked him to go slow. He'll do anything for you, because he's obsessed to the point where he wants to ball and chain you to him forever.
You feel every vein and very ridge of his hard cock as Coryo continues to push into you. Your hold on his shoulders tighten as you feel his tip press against your barrier. Biting your bottom lip, you brave yourself for the pain of having your barrier broken. But that pain never comes.
No, you just feel a sharp prick; a burning sting, as your cherry's popped. You do let out a strangled whine as Coryo pushes the rest of the way in; bottoming out and causing a large bulge to become visible in your lower stomach.
“You're such a good girl, darling. Taking me so well.” Coryo praised, looking down at where you're joined. “Look, baby.” He instructed. Pressing a hand to the bulge in your stomach; causing you to let out a throaty mewl, he proudly boasted, “Look how deep I am, how I'm in your womb.”
“Oh…” You trailed off, eyes wide with shock, as you listened to your boyfriend and looked down.
True enough, his cock was deep inside of you. You could see it protruding from your lower belly. It shocked you, mostly since you didn't know it was possible for him to be buried so deep inside of you.
“Fuck…” Coryo swore, his baritone heavy and thick with need. “You're cunt's so tight; feels so damn good around my cock.”
He tilted your chin up slightly, only to bend down and give you a kiss. A kiss that was fiery; full of passion and teeth. Pulling away, he grabbed a hold of your leg and hiked it up over his hip, only to slowly drag his cock out of your tight hole and push it back in again- starting the first movements of your fucking.
Coryo's pace was measured, but his thrusts were deep. With every move that he made, you're feeling pleasure start to bubble up inside of you. At some point, in an attempt to get him to go deeper, you hike up your other leg on his hip.
“Does my cock feel good pounding this pussy, baby? Hmm?” Coryo asked, grabbing a hold of your legs and folding them tightly into your chest. “Huh, baby? Am I fucking you good?” He asked, plunging in and out of you at a hard, fast pace.
Coryo knows, even if you don't, by the way your cunt’s twitching and clenching around his cock that you’re gonna be cumming soon. That your pussy’s fluttering cause she needs pounding; needs fucked hard and raw to drool and squirt out an orgasm.
“Yes, Coryo.” You nod, nails digging into his biceps as you feel your core ache with desire. “Yes, you're fucking me so good.”
“Your cunt's so greedy for my cock, baby.” He huskily told you. Leaning his head down, close to your ear, he whispers in a smug, but filthy tone, “Fuck, you're close again. I can feel that pussy clenching my cock, desperate to milk me dry.”
“Yea.” You desperately agree with him. Feeling the coil start to tighten in your lower belly, for the second time tonight, you plead, “Please, Coryo, make me cum again. Please.”
“Fuck, I love it when you beg for my cock like a wanton whore.” Coriolanus admitted, his tone hoarse with lust, as he looked down at you with undying desire in his blown pupils.
The only sounds in the room are your moans, the obscene sound of your wet squelching cunt, skin slapping against skin, and the creaking of your bed’s metal headboard banging against the wall as your boyfriend bends you like a pretzel. Coryo's pistoning in and out of your cunt so fast that his dog tags are starting to bounce between your chests; even smacking you in the face. Feeling bold, you grab his dog tags in your hand and pull him forward by them, only to lean up slightly and capture his lips in a needy kiss.
A kiss that you didn't even know you craved until you planted it on his lush lips.
Coriolanus let out a groan before hungrily kissing you back. Your kiss soon becomes a heated open mouth mess full of spittle trailing down your chins as he plows faster and faster into your cunt. Your lips trace over his, letting out a high pitch moan as you cum hard around his cock.
“Oh, fuck, baby. Fuck, that's so hot.” Coryo moans at the sight of you squirting, soaking his dick, thighs, and the sheets.
Coriolanus has heard of squirting, but has never seen it before. And now that he knows you're a squirter, well he loves you even more than he did before.
“Coryo, please, it's too much.” You begged, starting to feel overstimulation kick in for such an intense orgasm during your first time.
Coryo’s eyes narrowed as he snarled, “I'm not stopping and getting blue balls, Y/N. Just be a good girl and take it til I cum.”
His reaction took you aback. You honestly wasn't expecting it. You really thought that he'd pull out after you told him that it's getting to be too much for you.
“Coryo, I can't take it. It's too much; I’m too sensitive.” You try to reason with him.
But one thing you'll quickly learn is that there's no reasoning with Coryo. And that's a lesson you're learning right now.
Coryo rolled his icy eyes at you and shook his head before pausing his movements and pulling out of you. You thought that it was over, that he'd take care of himself or maybe even have you touch him, but you're wrong about that.
So wrong.
Instead, Coriolanus grabs you and roughly flips you over onto your stomach. Confused, your try to lift yourself up and look at him over your shoulder. “Coryo-” You begin to ask, only to be roughly shoved down into the mattress face first.
“Don't whine, baby.” The platinum blonde peacekeeper gruffly instruction while pulling up your hips. “I told you, Y/N, that you'll just have to take what I give you cause I'm not fucking getting blue balls tonight.” He sneered while roughly entering your oversensitive pussy in one sharp thrust.
You let out a loud cry, one that Coryo's afraid will wake up the entire neighborhood full of scumbags and gutter rats; send them running over to the sorry excuse of a wooden shack you're in. Bending down, causing the cool metal of his dog tags to brush against your bare back, he hisses right into your ear, “Shut up, bitch. We don't wanna get caught, now do we?”
Coryo didn't bother to straighten up his back. No, he just began pounding into you rough, hard, and fast. His cock was throbbing and he needed to cum. Badly. Right now he was pissed that you tried to push him off of you before he got the chance to shoot his load into your perfect, tight cunt and knock you up.
Hell, he knows you're a virgin, but he wasn't expecting you to get all whiny and panicky at overstimulation. Gods, he hopes you learn your lesson tonight when it comes to his dominance in bed- well while fucking in general cause he knows it's not going to be contained to just the bedroom.
You sobbed into your pillow, hair fanning you like a halo, and hands twisting into your sheets as Coryo pistons in and out of you at a brutal pace. You feel the tip of his cock bruising your cervix with every move he makes along with his cum heavy balls slapping against your puffy, swollen clit, making your cunt burn and ache.
“For whining about not being able to take it, your greedy lil tight cunt's clenching around my cock again.” Your boyfriend mockingky grunts in your ear, his fingers digging painfully into your hips. No doubt you'll have bruises marring them in the morning.
“Coryo…please…please…” You cried desperately into your pillow. Honestly, you're not even sure what you're begging for. Maybe some kind of relief from the intense pressure you're feeling? Yes, that has to be it.
You need relief from what you're currently feeling. The intense push-pull inside of you; the electricity coursing thru your core.
“Shut the fuck up. Damn, bitch, you want your brother to bust in here and pull me off ya ‘fore we both cum?” Coryo sneered, his deep timbre rough, heavy, and dripping with sin.
Fearing that you'd get him caught, since he had no idea if your family's home or not, he pulled you up by the nap of your neck and ordered in a whisper hiss, “Hold onto the headboard, now.”
You did as you're told, stretching your arms out and grabbing the metal rails of your headboard. Before you could even register what was going on, one of Coryo's large, calloused hands wrapped around one of yours while his other hand roughly covered your mouth- literally smothering you.
Your eyes are wide at the new position you find yourself in. Your mind’s overloaded by everything as Coryo picks up his fast, punishing pace pounding your pussy.
Everytime you try to whine or moan, your boyfriend clamps his hand down hard, muffling your cries and causing your jaw to ache. Your body's being jolted back and forth rapidly by Coryo's fast paced movements. Oh God, if you weren't bracing yourself by holding onto your bed frame your head would've been driven thru the thin wooden wall by now.
The cool metal of his dog tags dangles against your back as Coryo hunches over you, possessing your body for his pleasure. He's plowing roughly into you from behind, working both of you up to your orgasms.
He's panting and sweat’s beading his brow as he grits out, “I'm gonna cum, baby.” Feeling your cunt clamping and clenching around his cock, he orders, "You better cum too.”
One, two, three more rough thrusts and Coryo's biting into the crook of your neck, causing you to cry out a strangled sob as your final orgasm of the night hits you hard. His hand falls from your mouth and slips down to lightly squeeze your throat, as he shoots thick, hot ropes of cum deep into your cunt.
Instead of pulling out, he languidly snaps his hips; lazily fucking his seed into your womb.
“Shit, baby, think I just knocked you up?” He asks while gently strumming his thumb against the side of your throat while still keeping a loose grip around it. “You're gonna look so sexy, full and swollen with my baby.”
What the hell? He wants a baby?! Oh boy…Oh no…Oh boy…You weren't expecting to hear that. Suddenly you feel like you're sinking, that everything’s too much and you can't keep yourself afloat. Tears start to spill down your cheeks since you feel overwhelmed by everything.
Coryo stops his lazy movements and lets his now softening cock (which is still big) slip out of your abused hole. He smugly smirks as he watches a slight trickle of red tinted cum slowly falling from your cunt. His chest burns with pride as he sees the red smears on your thighs and his cock- the proof that he took your innocence. That you belong to him and only him from this moment forward.
Coriolanus realized that he pushed you too hard for your first time as he watched your body shaking with sobs. Sighing, he pries your hands off of your headboard and positions the two of you to lay on your bed under the thin blanket, your body tucked into his with your head resting on his chest.
“I know, baby. I know, it was a bit intense, but don't cry.” Coryo told you, wiping your tears away with the rough pad of this thumb. Rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back, he lovingly cooed, “You did such a good job taking what I gave, baby girl.” Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he did some damage control with a half-hearted apology of, “I'm sorry I pushed you so hard, Y/N. I just love you so much; got caught in the moment.” Softly stroking your cheek, he assured you, “I'll never do anything to purposely hurt you, my darling rose. I've just never been with a virgin before; forgot that you needed a softer touch once things got heated.”
You just nod your head and let Coryo calm you down; lull you into a dreamless sleep wrapped up in his arms.
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Your brother, Rein, passed out a few feet from the door as soon as he stumbled into the house. He was so drunk on moonshine that it's a miracle he even made it home before passing out on the street. Which he's done a handful of times before.
Ashlie on the other hand was as sober as a judge and made her way to the bedroom she shares with your brother just fine. Only problem is that her bed’s pressed up against the wall that separates your bedrooms. Hell, your bed and her bed are actually against the same wall.
So, while your brother, Rein, was passed out on the floor snoring in a pile of his own drool (and most likely puke) his girlfriend, Ashlie, was stuck lying awake in bed listening to your platinum blonde peacekeeper boyfriend roughly fuck you and degrade you. It made the barmaid uncomfortable; made her feel bad for you. She feels like you deserve someone better than a peacekeeper that just views you as an easy piece of ass. So, she knows that tomorrow morning she needs to confront you about Coryo; make you a cup of bitter herb tea too- cause gods forbid you fall pregnant with Private Snow's bastard.
Except there's just one problem with Ashlie's assumption. Private Coriolanus Snow doesn't view you as an easy piece of ass; instead he views you as his soulmate. As the future mother of his children; the beautiful girl that he's going to marry and make his First Lady Snow.
To Coryo you're his girl and nothing's going to change that. Now that he's popped your cherry he's never letting you go. The devil himself couldn't tear the two of you apart.
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Tags: @kuroosbby001 @preteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress
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scrupulosity-comics · 8 months
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hey is racism one of your obsessions? also white and ocd. if it is, how u cope with it? i'm really afraid all the time to hurt my loved ones who are black people, and they're the majority of my loved ones. and how do u identify whats racism from whats an intrusive thought?
Most of my race-related OCD is abstract stuff like “if I move out of my parents’ house and try to live my own life outside of their control, I will have to find somewhere I can afford to pay rent, which will probably mean moving into a low-income neighborhood, which would mean inadvertently helping to gentrify the community, which would gradually push the original residents out of their homes and disrupt community ties and support systems and creating housing insecurity, so therefore I can’t move out or move on”.
I think that’s just part of a larger existential terror that I can only ever make the world worse by living in it—a net harm to the universe, molecule by misspent molecule.
I have been letting this ask sit in my inbox for weeks now because I’m convinced that anything I say will be destructive. What if my answer enables or excuses racism? What if my answer fuels the anguish of the mentally ill?
The rational and compassionate part of my mind insists that your loved ones (and mine!) understand that you (and I) are white, and have likely dealt with white peoples all their lives, and are capable of judging for themselves whether you are good to them and deserving of their intimacy. It is impossible to go through life without hurting and being hurt by people you care about—always you will have blindspots and miscommunications and competing needs. That’s just part of the curse of consciousness and being a social species. We all get a little blood on our hands eventually, one way or another… friendship involves knowing this, accepting this, and committing to avoid it and then, that failed, to make things right.
Again: your friends know you’re white. They have reason to expect the best of you or they wouldn’t be your friends. They choose to have you in their lives; trust them to trust you, and to recognize the difference between a beloved friend struggling with a treacherous and unkind brain and doing their best in an inescapably racist society, and a racist who whose bigotry makes them unworthy of their time and affection.
I do think racism obsessions are a particularly difficult manifestation of OCD to cope with because they’re hard to discuss at all without feeling like you’re implicitly asking for absolution. With other types of OCD, it’s common to seek reassurance that what you’re obsessively afraid of isn’t true—but what feels more racist than asking someone to reassure you that you’re not racist…? LMAO.
They say the “cure” to OCD, such as it is, is just to learn how to embrace the existential horror of uncertainty. Tall fucking order. Hell on Earth! But in a bizarre way I have found the rhetoric that “everyone is unconsciously and incurably racist” to be unexpectedly helpful… there is no total psychological purging and mental purification we can undergo, no amount of ritual self-flagellation that will drive the demons out, no pristine state we can aspire to and hate ourselves for soiling. Only mundane everyday commitments to compassion and empathy and solidarity and cleaning up our messes. But even then, a thought isn’t a mess. A thought I’d not a thing that happened or a choice you made. It doesn’t represent an alternate timeline branching off into a parallel universe where you have acted on it and hurt people.
Earlier this year I was playing a video game—during my lunch break I got to wondering what happened if you failed a skill check that I had passed in my own playthough, so I looked up a clip on YouTube and was so triggered by the answer (the player character calls his companion a racial slur in the heat of the moment, without meaning to, even if you’ve played him as a committed anti-racist) that I immediately spiraled and was close to throwing up in the broom closet, and when I got home I opened my own save and tried to make the player character kill himself as catharsis. It was an incredibly unreasonable guilt response to a completely fictional scenario that I hadn’t even gotten in my own playthrough, but in retrospect it was a safe way to explore fear of my own internalized racism hurting somebody and what might happen if my intrusive thoughts came true. It sucked and it was terrible and I was angry at myself for being crazy about it, but it ended up being a small dose of exposure therapy and practice at not repenting for nonexistent through self-abuse.
I dunno. This has been a long uncomfortably personal ramble but I hope it’s helpful. I don’t know if your friends know you have OCD (or how it manifests) and I don’t know whether telling them would help. But allowing yourself to trust others to trust you is far more useful than beating yourself up for thoughts you don’t want. I have on occasion warned people that I am cautious about doing certain things with them—particularly drinking—because there is a risk that I may spiral and show symptoms humiliating and uncomfortable to both of us, and I don’t want to put them in a position where they witness or feel like they have to help me manage the white guilt elements of my disorder. These conversations have usually gone well, and the mutual understanding to boundaries takes some of the tension out, which seems to reduce the triggers. It’s messy and awkward and maybe it limits who is willing to be friends with me, but IMHO it’s better than surprising someone.
As for determining whether something is an intrusive thought or actual racism, I guess my answer is: does it matter? Would you manage them differently? Intrusive thoughts may be an evil voice in your brain, but racism is an evil voice in society’s brain.
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thefanficmonster · 1 month
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Piss off your parents pt.1
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PART 2
PART 3
Colby Brock x Reader (Female)
Warnings: Drinking, Swearing
Genre: FLUFF, Friends to Lovers, Fake Dating, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: You just wanted to rebel a little, how did it get to this?
"Y/N, you're fucking insane." Colby grumbles, struggling as he unbuckles one of his best friends out of the backseat of his car. She, however, seems completely unbothered by him maneuvering her into an upright position. She's giggling, actually, a direct contrast to her mascara streaked cheeks. She's drunk, wasted. Three sheets to the wind, if you will.
He already had to put two other drunk messes to bed tonight, Y/N's his third. He should be getting paid per person and per difficulty. Nate was the easiest to subdue, followed by Sam who put up a brief 'I'm not even drunk, dudeeee' kind of fight. And now her.
The party was at Sam's house so the previous two didn't require any special treatment other than being dunked into Sam's bed. Y/N however...
She'd pleaded with Colby, the most sober one of the bunch, to just let her be. Let loose, get drunk, flirt around a bit. That being said, four hours later - two hours past her curfew - when he tried prying her away from the drink table she put up one hell of a fight.
"You have the balance of a newborn giraffe! You're done! I'm cutting you off!" He'd yelled over the music, hearing his own parents' scolding in his tone but he ignored it. He had to take on the parenting role with his friends, it was his turn after all. He knows they'd do the same - they've done the same - when he was plastered. He owed them the same curtesy. Especially Y/N.
She's usually on parenting duty, not really on the heavy drinker side. But after the fight with her parents she told him about earlier, he can't blame her for wanting to drown it out with a few extra shots.
A few too many extra shots.
He was planning on just safely storing her in one of the guestrooms for the night and playing nurse the following morning when all three would undoubtedly have a hangover. But that's when Y/N's cognitive thought kicked in.
"My parents are gonna kill me if I don't make it home tonight! I can't sleep here!" She was - and still is - heavily slurring her words but the thought of further pissing off her folks drove her into an almost sobering panic. "Call me an Uber while I find my shoes. What time is it?"
Colby had carefully dodged around answering that question, knowing it would send her into a full blown heart attack knowing she was running so late. He tried telling her on time but she'd blown him off, saying she didn't care about the stupid curfew or at least that's how much he'd caught from her string of slurred rambles.
"You're not getting an Uber at this hour. Come on, I'll drive you." He'd said reassuringly as he picked up one of her stray shoes.
They soon found the second one and her missing purse and within fifteen minutes they'd gotten in his car and were gliding down the road with the speed of a tortoise. At this point in time Colby was neither drunk nor tipsy but that didn't stop him from sweating bullets as he operated the vehicle.
"I don't wanna go to Barton!" He'd believed she was asleep after the long stretch of silence following their departure so her sudden exclamation was quite startling.
"You won't, Y/N. You're coming with us to LA, remember?" He believed in that lie as much as she did, but he needed to soothe her somehow.
"Not according to mom! I'm gonna be stuck here in Kansas all my life!" Her anger was now engulfed by sobs Colby gently offered tissues for.
He stayed quiet and let her ramble, only partially listening to the words spilling directly from her heart. He especially tried drowning out the part where she went on a whole rant abut her massive crush on Nate.
But, alas, he wasn't successful, seeing as how he was white-knuckle-gripping the steering wheel more than half the way to her house.
That's how they've ended up here - one a giggly and mascara stained drunken mess and the other a bitter and regretfully sober babysitter. Well, babysitter, Uber driver and therapist all in one. He really should start charging for his services.
He wraps one of Y/N's arms around his shoulders, securing it there by holding her hand while his other arm fixates itself around her waist to keep her upright and at least semi steady on her feet.
With a silent prayer, he tries pushing the front door open with zero luck. It's locked.
He's cycling through all the stages of grief as he comes to terms with the fact that he will, unfortunately, have to ring the bell and alert Y/N's parents of their arrival.
He does just that, although quite begrudgingly, sighing heavily when he sees a light turn on through one of the windows. The sound of oncoming footsteps follows.
His eyes are soon met with the unpleasant glare of Y/N's mom who - as he's picked up on from their handful of interactions - already isn't very fond of him.
Just him!
She's lovely to Sam and Nate, but he's not extended the same curtesy. You can visibly see the air around her get colder when she approaches him whereas she's always been so kind and welcoming to the other two people in their friend group. He hasn't been able to figure out why. Bringing it up to Y/N proved futile as she just shrugged and shook her head.
"No clue, Colbs. But don't take it personally. She's just like that." She had said, but it didn't sit right with Colby. It made no sense. And it continues to bother him.
And unnerve him, specifically now as he's being stared down by her icy gaze.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Mrs. Y/L/N....just bringing Y/N home. She had a little too much to drink." There's no way in hell he could've concealed her drunkenness. She's hanging off of him with her head bowed, her hair forming a curtain over her face. He wouldn't be surprised if he were to find her already asleep.
"You know where her room is." There's an edge to her scoff that could slit a man's throat, but Colby chooses not to dwell on it. Truly, he can't, seeing as how she's already moving away from the doorway and down the hall into the living room, leaving him to deal with the mess she thinks he caused.
He can't find it in himself to be offended right now, although he probably will be later. He has bigger fish to fry.
And so, with his options limited, he opts to pick her up bridal style so he can easily carry her up the stairs. He hopes to God her parents don't see this and get the wrong idea.
Oh if he only knew what's to come...
As carefully as he can, he settles his unconscious best friend on her bed, tucking her in. He's murmuring reassuring words under his breath as he does so, not sure if they're meant for her or him but in the end it all works out.
"Night, Y/N." With that whispered in the darkness of the room and a gentle kiss on her temple, he makes his exit, briefly stopping at the bottom of the stairs to peek into the living room, "Good night, Mrs. Y/L/N."
"It's almost morning." Her reply is on-par with most of their interactions so he just pushes past it, shaking his head slightly before leaving out the front door.
As he does so, he notices the sky has taken on a brighter shade of blue, signaling Y/N's mom really wasn't exaggerating. With a sigh, he gets back behind the wheel, heading to Sam's house to check on his other two patients.
* * * * *
Her head is pounding but you'd never be able to tell from the giant grin on her face as she sprints through the neighborhood, skipping through backyards and hopping the occasional fence to cut the trip short. The strap of a duffle bag is slung over her shoulder, she's clutching onto it tightly. It has all her belongings in it, after all. It's of upmost importance she doesn't lose it.
That's be rather unfortunate right after spontaneously moving out, wouldn't it?
She wouldn't say she got kicked out of the house per-se. That would indicate that she was thrown out against her will. Quite the contrary actually. She was more than happy to leave. Had she known those were the magic words, she would've said them so much sooner.
She catches herself before she can make a face-first collision with Sam's front door, stopping to catch her breath and knock a couple of times. And a couple more times. And a few more times.
It's safe to say she's impatient. But with the news she has, you can't blame her.
"Stop! Stop!" A disheveled Sam finally opens the door, one hand partially covering his pale face, "Too loud..."
Y/N gives herself a moment to feel guilty and hug him apologetically before dashing inside. "Colby's here, right?"
"Yeah!" She hears his voice coming from the kitchen and immediately makes a beeline in his direction, dropping her bag in the foyer.
Upon entry, she finds Colby and Nate sitting by the kitchen island, both in different stages of 'the morning after'. Despite the crippling headache, however, the latter finds it in him to give her a genuine smile, sliding off the stool to envelop her in a hug.
"Aww, is someone hungover?" She mocks Nate, sneaking a sip from his Gatorade.
"Hey!" He complains, reaching over to snatch the bottle from her, "Give it back! I need it way more than you do."
Colby, unable to stomach their interaction - for reasons he doesn't want to get into right now - busies himself by looking down at his phone.
He's known of Y/N's little crush on Nate for months now. At first it was only speculation based off her demeanor around him. And then it was more like a punch to the gut when she tipsily confirmed it one night.
"Colbs?" Her voice snaps him out of his brief bitter spiral, forcing him to look up, "Can I borrow you outside for a sec?"
He's struggled with saying 'no' to her since the day they met. Not that he wants to turn her down, he just wishes he could.
And wishes she didn't. Without even knowing it. Turn him down, that is.
With a nod, he follows her out to the patio where the sun isn't kind to either of them, adding gasoline to the fire of their raging hangovers.
"Sup?" Try as he might, he has never been good at feigning nonchalance around her.
It's surprising to see her nervous. For once, he believes their playing field to be even. "So...I've got good news wrapped up in bad news."
Her words would panic him a lot more had she not come in like a force of nature with a gleaming smile adorning her face. Still, it's not at the top of the list of things he wants to hear on a Saturday morning. So, with an exaggerated sigh, he signals for her to continue, "I'm all ears. The last twenty four hours can't get much worse."
He watches her face twist as she cringes, well aware she's about to prove him wrong, "Well...." With a deep breath, she finally spits it out, "The good news is, I'm coming with you guys to LA."
Colby doesn't spare a second, momentarily forgetting the bad news she'd mentioned as he scoops her up in a hug, "No fucking way! Hell yeah! I fucking told you!" He can't describe the immense joy and relief he's feeling right now. "Kiss that Barton College shit goodbye!"
Giggling, Y/N kicks her feet, looking for solid ground beneath them. Not that she's in a rush to be set back down. In fact, for a split second, she wishes this moment could last forever.
But, she's aware it's impossible.
Suddenly, she feels guilt creeping in for even letting that thought run loose in her head. She doesn't even know how or why it popped up.
She just knows she's about to ruin it all.
"One problem..." It's actually far more than one, but they'll dissect that later on. She just has to get the main one out the way, "You see, how that came to be...."
"You have no shame! You get wasted at parties, break rules, come home past curfew." Mrs. Y/L/N's voice is shaking the house, echoing twice as loudly in Y/N's head as she's just trying to eat a bowl of cereal. "Random people are bringing you home at dawn!"
She has the gull to argue back, "Colby is not just some random person, mom!"
"Oh yeah, he of all people was the one bringing you home! What the hell, Y/N?!"
Her mom has never liked Colby. The problem is, no one knows why. Y/N isn't sure if her mom even knows why. She tried asking once, it didn't go over so well.
But that's when two and two click together into a four in her head - a bright idea. Actually, 'dim' would be better. Nothing bright is welcome within her proximity with the splitting headache she's nursing.
Without a second thought, she blurts out: "What's so wrong with having my boyfriend take me home after a party?"
Her words ring out like a gunshot in the quiet house. Yet they are nothing in comparison to the explosion of her mother's anger in response.
Colby's mouth is hanging open, his gaze piercing through more so than focusing on his friend.
She, on the other hand, is sweating bullets, anxiously waiting for him to say something and break the long silence that has fallen upon them. When he doesn't, she wills herself to whisper a mousy little "I'm sorry."
Finally, a voice leaves his parted lips: "Y/N, you're fucking insane."
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k0droid · 29 days
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would they say the n-word / are they racist: twisted wonderland edition
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Inspired by twstowo's taxes headcanon post.
I meant to post this during february but i just didnt.
REMEMBER THAT IS ALL FOR SHITS N GIGGLES. IF YOU THINK YOUR POOKIE IS/IS NOT A RACIST, REBLOG OR LEAVE A COMMENT
4/2 edit: JESUS CHRIST DON'T TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY 😭😭 THESE AREN'T REAL HCS, JUST SOMETHING STUPID FOR BLACK TWST FANS TO ENJOY
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GRIM: Yess that's my baby boy my son my son yes I give him the pass
RIDDLE: Couldn't waterboard the n-word outta him. Uses 'Off With Your Head' to punish anyone who uses slurs
TREY: Wouldn't. Not a racist and has no interest in saying the word.
CATER: Researches what's offensive to certain groups so he can stay respectful, no n-word from him
ACE: ace is literally that one white friend who thinks his n-word 'jokes' are funny (they're not) and he walks around with Riddle's collar because of that. He def went to a middle school named after a Confederate, but he's not racist for the most part "I play basketball so-" or "I'm gonna say the n-word: ninja!!" - 🥸
DEUCE: No. He's a good guy. He would never and if he said something remotely offensive, he'd apologize with tears
LEONA: YESS BLACK KING 🗣🔥🔥‼‼‼‼
JACK: Could and he does, but only occasionally. Punches the shit outta Ace's shoulder if he says something distasteful
RUGGIE: YES he just light-skinnted 😕 Ace would make fun of him for eating all the stereotypical foods
AZUL: Slightly racist. Just slightly. Seems like the type to get a lil tense when a tanned, well-built dude walks into the Monstro Lounge. starts clutching his pearls n shit
JADE: No, I don't really see him being racist or saying the n-word
FLOYD: Probably the least likely to say the n-word and would get offended that you even assumed. Like his entire mood would change if you mention it "Ehh Shrimpy? You tryna get squeezed? What made you think I would say that??" *fucking kills you*
KALIM: No, no n-word from Al-Asim. I could see him as a racist though. i think of kalim as purposely ignorant so in my mind, he's INTENTIONAL with his microaggressions but no one really calls him out on it.
JAMIL: Yes but only cuz I give him the pass.
VIL: Doesn't say the n-word (he knows better) but probably screams it in his thoughts. idk guys vil just seems a bit racist.
ROOK: Who's in Paris. LOL but I don't think he'd say the n-word. Also probably one of the least racist here. But he'd bring up eugenics in a convo and ruin the mood completely.
EPEL: I genuinely don't know if he would or not. Like because he from some rural area (to my knowledge, i js started book 5), i feel like he wouldn't because he'd know better. but i also heard that epel is misogynistic and hating black people & hating women go hand in hand (misogynoir)
IDIA: No but it wouldn't be surprising. i can already imagine him in that cod lobby. probably gets his slurs from cater
ORTHO: No my sweet child would not say the n-word. would blast idia out of this world with a charged beam if he said anything offensive
MALLEUS: No.
LILIA: Probably has said it before and is the most educated when it comes to black culture in the diasomnia group other than sebek (my 4c king)
SEBEK: No, in fact i might give him the pass (#mixedking😍❤️)
SILVER: No but probably a little colorist. yk how some black men love to scream from the mountain tops that they love white women? well silver is that white woman. js saying
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this was fun to make. pls remember that its just a silly post, dont get mad because only hit dogs will holler.
"what abt the staff/yuus/extras-" send an ask :3
4/2 edit: its crazy cuz the only mad people are white🧍🏾‍♀️
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mj-iza-writer · 2 months
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Rough grumpy Caretaker... how I love them. -MJ
Warning.... swear words used.
Caretaker peaked in to check on Whumpee, they had just put them down for a nap.
They slightly opened the door and caught Whumpee darting into the bed.
"You better have a really good reason for being out of that bed", Caretaker opened the door further.
"I'm sorry Caretaker, I....", Whumpee started to violently cough.
"Oh Whumpee fuck off and give me a break", Caretaker slipped into his old British sailer accent.
"I'm sorry. I wanted to grab my book, and then you came along", Whumpee pleaded.
"I didn't put you to bed to read. You are very sick and need to sleep. That temperature of yours could freaken cook an egg", Caretaker sighed as they started to tuck Whumpee back into the blankets.
Whumpee groaned as the blankets were violently shoved under them.
"Ouch, can we be a little gentler please", Whumpee winced, "I am sick after all."
"Oh hush", Caretaker held a cup of water and offered Whumpee a drink, "now if I come back to this room again and you are up, I will tie you to the bed. Am I clear? I better hear happy Whumpee snores."
Whumpee grinned.
"I mean it, unless you are getting a drink or going to the bathroom do not get up", Caretaker sighed as they set the cup down, "work with me here. Your complexion is horrendous, I mean, white paint has more color. Plus, your trash bin is overflowing with tissue for the second time today."
Whumpee nodded, "I'm sorry Caretaker."
Caretaker ran his hand through Whumpee's sweaty hair, "that's better. Now, we need to focus on you getting better. Please try to get some rest, I'll have some food and medicine ready for you when you wake up... okay?"
Whumpee nodded again, "thankyou."
Caretaker waited thirty minutes before checking on Whumpee again ... thankfully Whumpee had finally listened and was snoring away.
"My happy little chainsaw", Caretaker marveled at how loud Whumpee was as they stepped into the room.
They grabbed the thermometer and tucked it under Whumpee's tongue without disturbing their sleep. Even the ding didn't wake Whumpee.
"Temp is a little better now", Caretaker looked the thermometer over, "not where I'm wanting it to be though."
Caretaker sighed, "shit", he whispered, "I might have to take you in for some better medicine. What I have might not be cutting it."
Caretaker was fixing some soup for Whumpee when they heard them moving around.
"Dinner's almost ready if you want to come down here", Caretaker called.
Whumpee struggled down the hall.
"I just woke up and puked", Whumpee frowned.
"Let me guess, you didn't get to the bucket in time", Caretaker sighed, "where did it end up?""
"I did get to the bucket, but some got on my blanket to... sorry", Whumpee looked down.
"Okay", Caretaker sighed, "go ahead and eat, I'll clean it up."
Whumpee was hunched over when Caretaker came back.
"Whumpee?", Caretaker panicked, "Whumpee?"
Whumpee jumped up and started to mumble.
"You're going to the hospital... now", Caretaker hurried.
"No, no. I'm fine", Whumpee mumbled with a slur.
"Don't argue, you're fucking going to the hospital. You're beyond fine", Caretaker went to help Whumpee stand.
"Okay, but I can walk", Whumpee started to get up.
"Oh, you want to walk by yourself. Okay, that sounds fun to watch. Okay, let's see", Caretaker crossed his arms.
Whumpee started to walk, but fell forward.
"Shit", Whumpee moaned.
"That's what I thought. Alright come on, work with me. I'm not dragging your ass, but you won't make it by yourself", Caretaker threw one of Whumpee's arms over his shoulder and led them to the car.
Whumpee's temperature was checked on arrival at the hospital. It had jumped back up again.
Caretaker helped Whumpee into a chair and followed the staff as they rushed them back.
Caretaker sighed as they started to fill out the forms, "Whumpee", Caretaker muttered to himself, "pain in my ass. You're lucky I love you... at least a little bit."
Whumpee squinted their eyes open, the morning sun met them.
They jumped up realizing this was not their bedroom.
"Easy", they felt Caretaker's hand grab them, "you're okay, your fever got really bad. I had to bring you to the hospital."
Whumpee rubbed their head, "I've got a major headache", they looked around the room, "the last thing I remember was sitting down at the table, I don't remember anything else."
"Well, the staff here has been very helpful in getting your fever to break, they got you on some medication and fluids", Caretaker sighed.
"That's good", Whumpee leaned back again, "I still don't feel great, plus, this headache."
"We'll get you better", Caretaker pressed the call button, "I promise."
Whumpee nodded as they laid down, "thankyou Caretaker."
Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet @thebejeweledwatercat @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr
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ticklepinions · 1 month
Text
Everyone should read the following. If we are a community you need to understand a few things.
Are you entitled to say anything you want due to "free speech"? Hell yeah!
Should you? Absolutely the fuck not!
The blatant racism, anti-queerness, transphobia, misogyny and fatphobia I have seen is down right abhorrent. And if you display any of these ideologies or opinions, you simply do not belong here. You shouldn't be comfortable making a safe space for yourself as you make this lovely community unsafe for the rest of us.
There is nothing political about human rights. But unfortunately that's where we are in this life. I'll try not to be biased but certain political leanings tells me all I need to know about you. POC conservatives will always make me laugh. You are nothing but a pawn for the cis/hetero/whites who don't give a shit if you live or die. Nothing but a slur, a body to dispose of. You may share their views but they are not sharing the power and privilege they have with you.
Let's talk about certain individuals who act so tough under the "big strong amurican sharing their views just to get shitted on, fucking snowflakes". Why do you want to be oppressed so badly? Why do you purposely antagonize people and then when they defend themselves you try dismissing them by saying how they're wasting their time... The irony of it all. The sheer ignorance.
I feel sorry for you people. Truly, I do. But I'll be damned if I let any of you try to tear any of us down for having opinions and ideologies (hint hint see the irony?) that fight for the rights of people who don't have them.
And let me get something clear- from the river to the sea. We all should not stop fighting till all of us are free. There are so many resources out there to educate yourself, yet you choose to remain ignorant. You do not belong here. You act as though you are better than everyone else because you have "edgy" opinions, opinions that literally call for the deaths of the marginalized and oppressed. You do not belong here. You have the gall to tell people they are wasting their time, when their sheer existence alone is putting them at risk for isolation and death (by the same bigoted people you support). You do not belong here.
If an elephant (Israel) has it's foot on a mouse's (Palestine) tail, tell me which one is truly the one at risk. There is a gen0cide going on. If Israel is trying to reclaim it's "land" why bomb it? Why destroy it? With a military with their degree they should be able to eliminate all these "terr0rists" with minimal to no "collateral damage" (aka the 30,000 innocent Palestinians, 2/3rds of which were woman and children, with countless injured, orphaned, homeless and starving). Why bomb hospitals, mosques, sacred places? Standing with Palestinian people is not antisemitism, it's anti gen0cide and war crimes (a multitude of which Israel has shamelessly committed).
And I'm not on anon. I stand for the people of Palestine. I stand for justice. I stand for equity. I stand for the freedom of all oppressed people.
And I implore everyone who follows me to educate themselves. The right path does not lead you to discriminate against the marginalized. Continue to fight my friends, continue to amplify the voices of those unheard, continue making this community and those you belong to, safe for all and unsafe for those who think otherwise.
For you @knismosexual + @littleonelee
I hope you truly reflect on how your actions impacts this entire community and the communities you live in. Until you learn how to act right, unfortunately this community isn't for you. You shouldn't feel welcome here. You shouldn't feel like you belong here. DMs are wide open if you have any thoughts. But again I say, supporting transphobic, racist, anti-queer, misogynistic, discriminatory views is not simply an "opinion" or personality to adopt. You are hurting real people, accepting the deaths and harassment that plague them every single day. You have no place in this community.
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wolfjackle-creates · 8 months
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Ask Game:
8. "Who did this to you." and 24. Showing up at friend/mentors house.
With hurt Danny and any/all of the Bats.
Okay, but holy shit, you have no idea how perfect this one is. I was imagining a scenario with both of these earlier today. This is an alternate version of Bring Me Home where Danny and Tim were online friends from the time they were preteens. The actual fic will not go this way, so I'm so excited to have an excuse to share this version with y'all.
Nonny, I absolutely love you for sending these two in (no romo).
For those who don't follow Bring Me Home. Tim's username was IKnowYourSecrets and Danny often calls him "Secrets." Danny's username was -xXPolarisXx- and Tim will call him "Polaris."
And for everyone, Sam and Tucker ended up with codenames after all their adventures in Amity. Sam is referred to as Regrowth and Tucker as Pharaoh. This will come up later in Bring Me Home, but hasn't yet (mainly bc what I'm writing now takes place before those events).
Word Count: 1.2k
-----
Danny's vision blurred and he felt himself fall a dozen feet. He clutched his stomach tighter and grit his teeth against the pain.
He was almost there. He could make it.
With the last of his strength, he shot an ectoblast into the sky and fell a few more feet, hitting the roof of a building. He scrapped along the rough surface and the only reason he didn't scream was because he couldn't catch his breath enough to. Everything hurt.
He couldn't even push himself up and so just lay there, trying and failing to catch his breath. Not even when he heard a strange noise and footsteps behind him could he move. He tensed as much as possible.
"Who are you?" asked a man.
Danny just groaned. He hurt. He needed Tim.
The footsteps got closer and Danny opened his eyes. When had he closed them? He saw black boots and skin-tight leggins.
Then the man was kneeling. Blue accents on his chest, a domino over his eyes.
Danny let out a sigh. It tasted of ectoplasm. "Ni-win," he slurred.
"So you know who I am, who are you? What happened? How can I help?"
"R— R'bin. Know me."
"You're looking for Robin?"
His vision was going dark. "R'bin. Yea. Secrets. Friends."
"I'll get Robin here. Can you tell me your name?"
"Polaris. Tell—" Danny coughed weakly and spat out more ectoplasm. "Tell 'im, 'M ready to accept 'is offer."
"I will," promised Nightwing.
The blackness crept in further. Danny could hear Nightwing still talking, but couldn't make out the words. Everything was getting fuzzy. But he was in Gotham. Tim was here. Tim would make it all better. He let go.
---
Despite the quiet night, Tim was tense. He couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong. So when Dick's panicked voice came over the comms asking Damian about a secret friend, he was already pulling up Dick's location.
He was on the roof of Tim's civilian apartment building. Which, what?
"I do not have any secret friends," came Damian's reply.
"He's a meta. Caucasian with white hair. He's hurt bad, bleeding everywhere. Lazarus green blood—"
Tim's blood ran cold and he wished he could grapple faster. "Fuck! I'm heading to your location now. He's my friend, not Robin's. Bring him into my apartment. He needs specialized medicines and I've a supply."
"He called himself Polaris. Said he's ready to accept your offer," said Dick.
"Shit. Fuck. Okay. Eta, fifteen minutes."
"I'll get him inside."
"Don't try to treat his injuries," Tim ordered. "Human treatments won't work."
"Understood."
"And..." Tim hesitated, "Did he say how he was injured?"
"No. He passed out before he could."
Tim cursed again, but didn't reply further, despite the way the rest of his family demanded information. If it was the GIW, he'd need to arrange extraction for Sam and Tucker. But if it was Danny's parents... Well, he might just cross a line he swore he'd never cross when he first put on the Robin suit.
Fifteen minutes later, he was sliding the window to his apartment open. Dick had Danny laid out on the floor and was stripping him and pulling away loose bandages, revealing a large Y-shaped incision on his chest.
Dick looked up at him, face grim. Tim didn't let himself pause to look and ran to his bedroom and threw open his closet door. He slid open a hidden compartment revealing a safe and, with shaking fingers, punched in the code. The door swung open and he grabbed the silver-and-green case inside.
He rushed back to Danny's side. "Who did this to you?" he mumbled as he took stock of the injuries.
"Do you have any idea who might've wanted to hurt him?" asked Dick.
"With these wounds, it would be either the GIW or his parents." Tim bit back a hysterical laugh. "Been trying to get him away from them for three years now, but he swore they'd be okay once they realized who he was. Idiot." Tim bit his lip. He couldn't cry right now. He opened the case and pulled out gloves and antiseptic and began cleaning the wounds. "Dick, I need you to contact Superboy, Impulse, and Wonder Girl. Tell them Phantom's hurt bad and Regrowth and Pharaoh may need immediate extraction."
"Okay." Dick was already typing away on his phone. Moments later, it started ringing and Dick answered it on speaker.
Cassie's voice came over, "Red Robin, what's going on?"
"Phantom's been vivisected. He passed out before he could share the culprits. We're at my apartment in Gotham. If it was the GIW..."
"I'm sure Impulse is already there. I need to go home and grab my deflector first, but I'm going to get to Amity as soon as I can. We'll keep you updated."
"Thanks. Phantom's in bad shape. I don't..."
"Rob, you know what to do. We've known this was a risk for three years. You've talked to Frostbite and Regrowth and Phantom about how to best care for traumatic wounds. You're going to make sure he pulls through this."
Tim's eyes burned, but he kept working. Almost done and then he could start with the stitches. "Thanks."
"Anytime, Rob."
The call disconnected and Tim took a shaky breath. Time to start the stitches. They'd come directly from Frostbite and the thread glowed a bright, ectoplasm green.
"Tim," Dick's voice was tight, "Why do you have a case filled with Lazarus water and Lazarus-green supplies?"
"Not Lazarus water." He didn't bother explaining more. He laid the thread along the wounds and willed it to close the wound.
The thread obeyed, breaking into small pieces and sewing the skin together on his own. For the first time since he realized Danny was hurt, he smiled. Ghost medicine definitely made this part easier.
With the major injury taken care of as best as possible, Tim began checking over the rest of Danny. He had a bad burn on his left thigh, new electricity marks on his right shoulder, and his right ankle was either badly sprained or broken.
So he set to cleaning those as best he could. Creams then bandages covered the burns. The splint he laid along the ankle set itself just like the stitches had.
Dick tried to help, but Tim brushed him aside. It'd take too long to explain what had to be done.
Eventually, Dick got up and walked away. He could hear him in the kitchen area messing around in the fridge and reporting the situation over the comms, but he ignored it.
Finally, everything was categorized and bandaged to the best of his abilities. Now, for the final step. He pulled out a syringe shining bright with ectoplasm and stabbed it into a mostly-uninjured area of Danny's thigh.
Danny's back arched off the ground and he gasped, eyes flying open.
Tim leaned over him, "Danny, it's okay. You're safe now. You made it."
"Tim," gasped Danny.
"Yep. You made it. Can you tell me who did this to you?"
Danny closed his eyes and breathed out. "Mom and Dad."
Tim grasped Danny's hand. "Danny..."
Danny squeezed back. He opened his eyes and met Tim's gaze. "Still have that spare room for me?"
"I've had it since the day you died, idiot. Welcome home."
Danny gave a small smile even as tears tracked down his cheeks. "I'm home."
-----
Okay! That ended up being both longer and shorter than I thought it'd be. Hope you all enjoy. Thanks again for sending the prompt, Nonny! And the rest of you, feel free to keep sending some in. I'm off tomorrow and should be able to fill one or two. Any others I can work on over the course of the week.
For now, it's bedtime.
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