#i have pitched all i can at these fuckers
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i never wanna dm for these motherfuckers again
#my campaign i warned prior to even character creation i pitched as a semi-serious toned long runner gothic horror game#one pc brought in a joke character#one only gets serious to the other pcs; not me#one's only focused on their own story#one only plays the game when i pitch softballs at them#they don't play the game when at the table; they only follow the leader#who quit the fucking game because in part the stress of pulling along fucking potato sacks grew too heavy#they never react to anything i put in front of them nor want to explore anything deeper#and as soon as anyone figures something out everyone else fucking metagames and is no longer interested in x plot point#even if their character has no reason to know x thing. they just dont care anymore#my fucking cursed npc they all believe they know what the curse is on him but never asked him in person if thats what it was#because he's a grumpy piece of shit and no one ever wants to press any npc or do anything they deem I THINK to be wrong#they 'know' he'd react poorly to being asked so they're all running under the same assumption of what's wrong with him#and the leader knows what his story is so no one else cares to dig any deeper cuz they all just hope the leader will fess up somedaybouthim#but the story cant fucking go anywhere#i have pitched all i can at these fuckers#and i have nothing left to give them#and they just dont want to play my damn game. they want to rp with each other. and they can fucking do hunky dunky rp#but that is not the POINT of dnd. they are not PLAYING DND.#why do i put in all this goddamned tome#yknow thats another great goddamned point i made them a physical book prop and no one's fucking read it#they had to decipher the book page by page and all refused to read the book.#the leader had to pull them by their damn ears and use my session time despite my efforts to keep the DIGITAL VERSION UPDATED#TO GET THESE MOTHERFUCKERS TO READ MY HARD GODDmned work#theres a difference between a friend and a friend i'd play dnd with#and apparently i only fucking have one#they're so goddamned ungrateful#negative
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im going to explode
#logbook#SUUUUUUCKS. sucks. this shit sucks so bad.#i drove in and my toast fell on the floor of my car bc i had to dodge some fucker who walked out into the road in the pitch black.#so i havent had any breakfast. ate one mandarin. been so busy i havent touched my dried mango or piece of candy.#had the store manager and an asm and gci weigh in abt the display and holiday plants etc etc. im going insane.#SOOOOO irritating SOOOO stupid. i hate them. i hate them all.#and gci kept talking over me or dismissing very important details i pointed out. hes pissing me off specifically.#and bc i havent eaten and i didnt reslly sleep im snapping a bit. im trying not to and i keep saying im trying not to but. alas.#b is back after a week or so and she and o keep talking over me or deciding things. im tired of fixing shit.#to be clear its not as bad as i thought it'd be today but it has been irritating lol#az came by twice and im so tired i didnt have snything funny to say to him. but he gave me a high five :-)#i just have a little bit of indoor left today. its been. so chaotic and messy. and its driving me nuts.#may buy a few of the new babies we got in<3#also z and o and q and gci are all going out to lunch. . .oh joy. not that i would go but. whew.#thats a whole can of worms i refuse to touch.
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misdiagnosed ❥︎ l. williamson x reader.
you find out you've been misdiagnosed and that your condition has never been treated before.
episode ii of red, in the blurry mess.
warnings: sexual content (first half). it actually took me awhile to write this part because i don't know how to write smut, so i was stuck on how to go about it. 😭 excuse me if it's bad.
leah's dirty shorts are pulled down to her ankles. you're face to face with her glistening folds, soaked from pure arousal and sweat. oh how you wish you could see her.
she used her hands to guide your head towards her dripping heat. you lay soft pecks on her hardened clit, hearing her sigh lowly at the contact. leah was not at all a loud woman in bed, in fact she was quiet for the most part, only letting out short gasps and a low groan when she climaxed, but since being together, your lover has learned that you appreciate her sounds of pleasures.
not having the ability of vision increased your other senses, like your touch, your sense of smell, and especially your hearing. it's probably why you get turned on when you feel her sweaty skin against yours, why you enjoy the smell of grass from the pitch, why you hold her so close to you when she comes, so you can hear her moans of orgasmic pleasure ring throughout your brain.
learning these details about you, leah adjusted her normal routine during sex to ensure that you were getting the absolute most out of the experience. these little acts made you fall deeper in love with the woman.
you felt yourself getting soaked as your brain wanders back to past sexual experiences with leah; the pleasure she bought you two from the strength of her thrusting, the mind blowing orgasms, the adorable aftercare she provided after [pretty much] destroying your insides, you wanted it all and now.
you latched your lips to her clit and began sucking gently. the one thing you learned about your lover was that she enjoyed soft and sensual sex compared to the hard and fast fucking she was used to with previous partners. in her own eyes, she was a lover, not a fucker, but tonight you needed her to be a fucker.
"there you go princess. that's it..." leah groaned out.
you continued to eat away at her, loving how her (usually tensed) body reacted to your actions. leah felt herself coming undone, her toes curling, her eyes shut, the veins poking out from her temple. you lapped up every single drop she blessed your tongue with. she pulled you away from her core and up to her lips where she kissed you lustfully, moaning at the taste of herself on your lips.
"leah, i need you inside me right now." you begged as you straddled her left thigh and began rolling your clothed heat against her bare skin.
she nodded at your request and carried you towards your shared bedroom. your arms and legs wrapped around her body like you were a koala to a tree. your lips moving in motion with hers, her tongue easily exploring your mouth without resistance. she laid you down on the bed and pulled your pants down, along with your soaked panties.
she broke the kiss away to lift up your shirt and unclasped your bra, leaving you bare under her hooded eyes. she latched her mouth to one of your nipples while her left hand raked over your smooth skin.
"please baby..." you begged again. "i'm ready for you... please.."
leah removed herself from the bed and pulled off her jersey. "on your stomach, princess." she commanded.
you turned over onto your stomach like she commanded. the bed felt bigger than it usually does at that moment, you couldn't tell if it was because leah's more bigger and muscular body wasn't next to you or if was always big and you're just now focusing on it.
you felt leah climb onto the bed and kneel over your frame. her knees on each side of your hips and the wet rubber of her strap rested against the small of your back.
"you look so beautiful like this, my princess." leah whispered from above you. "if only you could see yourself through my eyes, then you would understand how much i adore you." and with that, leah buried the tip of her penis into your sobbing core.
you bit down into the pillow below you. it's been awhile since you and leah found time to explore each other's bodies due to the latter's over packed schedule and you've never masturbated nor was ever a fan of it. because of this you were so overly needy at the moment that you needed leah to pound herself deeply within you right at that moment.
"please... don't waste time.." you begged her. "just fuck me already..."
leah took her time pushing herself in your heat, enjoying your dishevled state. you let out a pained groan as her cock messaged your aching walls.
"my baby queen, i have all the time in the world." she husked lowly in your ear. "you're mine, remember? i could do anything i want with you and you'll take it because you're a good girl, right? you're my good girl."
you whimpered into the pillow, the feeling of leah stretching your desperate walls sent a tear strolling down your eye. leah pushed herself harder into you, wanting every inch of her cock to be trapped in your cave the same way your body was trapped under hers.
you couldn't take it anymore. you felt like you were going to combust at any moment. you needed her. leah planted her hands against the mattress and began to move in and out of your core slowly.
you whined. you absolutely hated when leah played games with you, especially when you were so vulnerable and desperate. the scent of the grass from today's game lingered on her skin as well. it reminded you of how fustrated she was after the final whistle, how dominance oozed from her when she addressed the girls in the locker room today. you needed that leah, you needed an enraged leah.
"leah..." you whimpered. "i'm not feeling anything."
leah ignored you. she knew you were only saying that to get her to thrust harder, so you pushed her futher.
"just pull out leah, you're not pleasuring me the way you usually do."
leah continued to ignore you, dragging herself along your walls at the same pace.
"i'm serious, leah." you demanded. "you can't pleasure your girlfriend in bed. the same way you can't lead your team to a league title."
leah made a face and halted her thrust. "huh?"
"i bet a chelsea player could fuck me into a coma. they could also actually win their trophies unlike..."
leah hopped off the bed and dragged you off the bed with her. she forced your head and chest down onto the mattress while her hands gripped your waist firmly. without warning, she slammed her cock straight into your heat and began rutting into you like she's never done before.
you screamed into the mattress; your body shook with such force as leah fucked you with zero regard for you. you gripped the sheets below you while tears spilled down your cheeks, turning you into a sobbing mess.
leah didn't care. in fact, she accelerated her pace. putting one foot on the mattress, she forced herself deeper into your cavern, her nails dug into your skin and the tip of her strap assaulted your sweet spot.
"don't... you ever... say... that fucking... club... in this household... ever again." leah warned, speeding up her pace as she did so. too busy screaming your lungs out to respond, leah gripped your hair and pulled you up. "you understand me?!"
"ye.. yes! yes!" you cried out.
leah let go of your hair which sent you crashing face first into the mattress. she continued to pound into you without a care in the world as you struggled to take all of her. leah took her right hand off your hip and snaked it towards your clit where she ferociously flicked the swollen bud in all directions, sending a new flood of pleasure.
"f.. fuck... i'm gonna... baby i'm gonna..." you struggled to get out your words.
leah didn't care. she pinched your clit before slapping her fingers against it as she slammed her body against yours.
you came violently around around her, blacking out immediately as waves of orgasmic pleasure charged throughout your whole body. leah didn't stop. she kept going; slamming her pelvis against your sore bottom whilst slapping her fingers against your defeated clitoris.
leah felt her own orgasm building up. she thrashed against your unconscious body until she couldn't take it anymore. leah halted her movements as she came hard, her body jolting from the overwhelming pleasure.
she fell against your bare back to catch her breath. after taking a moment to recover, leah pulled herself out of you and flung the strap across the room to be dealt with later. she brought your body towards the head of the bed and laid you down against the soft pillows. she slipped herself into the bed and cuddle you from behind.
"nala..? are you okay, my love?" she asked, a hint of worry rushing over her. you groaned tiredly into the pillow and pulled her closer to you, in desperate need to feel her, skin to skin.
too tired for the usual aftercare, the two of you fell asleep together, feeling satisfied after an amazing sexual experience.
"nala? nala, my love, it's time to wake up." you felt your girlfriend shake you awake as she coo'ed in your ear.
"seven more minutes..." you mumbled into the pillow.
"you have an hour to get ready, my love."
you groaned. leah laughed. you pushed your body up and away from the soft mattress its been attached to for the past ten hours, still feeling sore from last night's activities. leah laughed harder at your struggle. what an evil woman.
"you could help me instead of laughing." you comment as you fully sat up to face her. "this is your fault."
"i suppose it is. my apologies, love." leah stands up from the bed and grabs the bundle of grey sweats that have been resting on the night stand. "i grabbed some comfortable clothes for you to wear. i know you don't like being in anything too restricting while at the office."
you sent a gentle smile towards her and began to get ready for the day. leah helped you get dressed, as she usually does whenever you two have the morning together, but there was something off about her this particular morning. she was more hesitant when helping you into your clothes, she more gentle in her touches, treating you like a piece of thin glass.
"is there something wrong?" you asked her.
"i'm a bit nervous." she admitted.
you let out a small chuckle. "for what? are you getting the surgery?"
leah grumbled. "no! i want you to be happy, but all these talks about surgery and what not worries me a bit. i don't want you to get hurt. i'd lose my mind if something was to happen."
"these are professionals." you assured her.
"and professionals can make mistakes."
you frowned, not liking the direction this conversation was going. "come on, love."
"okay i'm sorry." she apologized. "i've been overthinking a lot."
"you overthink about everything. i think i'm more worried about you, than you are for me."
leah laughed. "nonsense!"
"no, it's true! you freak me out constantly with your thoughts."
leah nodded. "i freak me out too sometimes." she grabbed her keys from off the nightstand and exited the bedroom. she walked over to dolly, who was relaxing on the sofa, and gave her a big kiss. "be a good girl while we're gone."
dolly barked happily and rested her head against the sofa pillows.
you and leah walked out of your shared flat hand in hand towards her car. she was more compassionate compared to yesterday; opening the door for you, helping you into the car, and adjusting the seat to your comfort.
"what's with the gentleman act, williamson?"
leah smirked as she entered the driver's seat. "i suppose i owe you an act of kidness for last night."
you groaned in embarrassment, but leah only laughed.
leah checked you in at the front office then joined you on one of the sofas as the two of you waited for your name to be called.
"i've always hated waiting in this damn lobby." leah admitted out of the blue. "the constant ringing of the telephone, the static from the tv, and the smell of alcohol. it's all too much for me. i could only imagine how you feel, it's probably a sensory overload for you."
you let out a small chuckle. "it is, but i've gotten used to it. what's on the news today?"
leah squinted at the television mounted on the wall. she could barely see what was being displayed through the awful static texture on the screen. "looks like... another pub closing down."
"oh? why?"
"can't tell. they need to fix the tvs in here."
"well most people that wait in here are blind, so i guess they figured it wouldn't be an issue." you chuckled some more. leah let out a snort of her own.
while the two of you waited for the nurse to call for you, a conversation about your future life together sprung to life. leah went on about her disapproval of the current school system and her worries for your future children.
"i thought you didn't want any children." you stop leah midway through her sentence.
"i also said i wasn't looking for a relationship, but look what happened." leah smirked at her own comment. "i think one will be fine, no?"
you made a face, an unrecognizable emotion painted over your features. leah quickly added to her question, "it's up to you of course. you'll be the one carrying the child after all."
you couldn't contain the laugh that ripped through your throat. "what?!" you asked in amusement and disbelief. "why do i have to carry?"
leah's smirk grew. "because the child will need a perfect body to grow in and you..."
"leah williamson please." you felt a strong wave of embarrassment rush through you like a tsunami. you thanked your lucky stars that there was no one else in the room.
"what?" leah asked amusingly. "you have a perfect body. am i wrong?"
"i wish you were as smart with your mouth as you were with your feet." you grumbled.
leah let out a laugh of her own. "but i am smart with my mouth. just ask your vag.. OW!" you whacked your stick hard against her shin. "what was that for? :("
you simply smiled. "shut it, williamson."
the bantering between you two came to a halt when your name was called into the office. the nervous feeling began to bubble within you. leah noticed your hesitation and laid her warm palm on your thigh.
"are you sure you want to go in? we could always reschedule." she assured in your ear.
you shook your head and pulled yourself up. "no, let's go." leah followed the nurse to the examination office and you held her hand as she guided you.
"okay so..." the nurse began once both you and leah were seated. "we've ran some tests the last time you were here and found that..."
the sudden ringing of leah's phone stopped the nurse in her tracks. leah pulled her phone out her pocket and muted the ringing before stuffing it back in her pocket.
"my apologies." she whispered.
"that's alright." the nurse assured before continuing. "ok so we've found that..."
leah's phone began to buzz once more. the vibration from her pocket echoed throughout the white room.
"leah, please answer that." you begged, quite embarrassed that your girlfriend's cell interrupted the nurse not once, but twice.
leah excused herself out of the room. the nurse stiffled a laughed while you tried not to explode.
"shall we wait for her return?" the nurse asked.
"no." you said a little too quickly for comfort.
"alright then." she responded. "we did some tests and we found that there may have been a mistake with your diagnosis regarding your blurred vision."
you gripped your walking stick hard. "mistake? what do you mean?"
"we assumed that your blurred vision was myopia. in the sense that you shared the same vision with the majority of people with blurred vision." she explains. "we assumed that your vision could be fixed with the lazer surgery, but the results have shown us that you might be past the point of that."
your body froze. "what... are you saying that i don't have myopia?"
"you don't have myopia. to have myopia means to be near sighted. you should be able to make out the objects near you while objects in the distance are blurred, but still recognizable."
"but... i can't see anything!" you stressed. "even when an object is near me, i can't see it! i can only see the colour if it's bright enough because dark colors are weak compared to bright ones."
"yes exactly." the nurse agreed. "you can't see anything, but a smudge of bright colours."
you nodded. the nurse pulled a picture up on the big computer screen.
"you have a type of blurred vision that we've never treated. it's hard to confirm it's treatable." the nurse confessed as she walked in front of you. "what do you see right now?"
"just white. a blurred mess of white and a smudge of pink."
the nurse nodded. "i am wearing a pink shirt under this jacket." she grabbed a large grey folder and held it up to you. "what colour is this?"
"white."
"no, the folder."
"it's... white? all i see is white." you felt like crying.
"no, it's grey. the folder i'm holding is grey."
you felt a tear escape your left eye. "i don't think i know what grey looks like, miss."
the door suddenly opened. leah stood in the doorway like a confused puppy. the nurse put the folder down and made her way to the door.
"please wait here. i'll be back." she promised plainly before her exit.
leah glanced at the screen; her eyes widened at what was displayed. she had no idea that your vision was as bad as what she was seeing.
[LEFT: myopia. RIGHT: your vision.]
"leah..." you called out.
"yes my love?" leah took a seat next to you on the bed rather than in the chair she once occupied.
"what is the colour grey?"
leah made a face. "look at your sweats. that's grey."
you looked down and immediately burst into tears. your sweats are white. all you see is white. leah was completely caught off guard, she's never seen you this distraught.
"nala...?"
"all i see is white, leah!" you shouted. "all i see are blurred colours!"
leah glanced back up at the screen then back to you. she wrapped her arm around your shaking body, not sure if there was anything she could say or do to cheer you up.
after awhile of crying your heart out, you lift your head up and stared directly at the white ceiling.
"i don't think this will ever get fixed. she said i might be passed the point of treatment." you said in defeat, mostly talking to yourself rather than leah.
leah's heart sank. "really...? like there's no other option...?"
"they've never seen anything like this before." you dug your face back into the palms of your hands.
a moment of silence took over the two of you for the next minute. you looked up once again and took a deep breath then glanced over at your lover whose eyes were fixated on the screen in front of her.
"who called?" you asked her, your voice filled with nothing, but pain and defeat.
leah ignored the sharp pain in her chest. "um it was kyra."
"kyra?"
"yes."
"what did she need?" you turned your body towards leah.
leah tightened her lips together in an attempt to hide a smile. "she connected me in a three-way call with emily. apparently emily didn't get the memo that i was just bullshiting about today's training session."
you struggled to contain your laugh. "don't tell me she was out there all alone."
leah bursted into laughter. "she was so distraught! she was too scared to call me, so she called kyra and kyra just didn't have the heart to tell her that i wasn't being serious."
"well you were being quite scary back in the locker room." you admitted through deep breaths.
"yeah, but everyone knows that i wasn't going to stick to my word. especially since you had this appointment at the same time."
"em's still new, leah."
"i guess so." leah agreed.
the two of you shared a laugh at the expense of emily being adorably clueless. it was a nice moment to take your mind off of current events. the moment was short lived as the nurse inserted herself back into the room.
"we're going to continue to run some tests to figure out what's the best possible treatment going forward."
"what if there isn't a treatment?" leah asked her.
"we'll just have to see." the nurse responded.
both women looked at you for your final thoughts on the matter. there wasn't much else to say, but you knew you'll have to talk with your parents later on tonight. you only thanked the nurse for today and followed leah out of the office.
once in the car, leah leaned over to you and kissed you softly on the cheek. you smiled at her and leaned back into the passenger seat.
"pizza for lunch, love?" leah asked as she backed out of the parking space.
"as long as you're not cooking it, then sure."
#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader#awfc#awfc x reader#arsenal women#woso#woso imagine#woso community#woso fanfics#woso x reader#red in the blurry mess
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Oh my stars so I saw your post for Hazbin hotel requests can I PLEASE get a reader w Sir Pentious who is low-key jealous of his crush on cherry but he ends up getting w reader in the end?
I would love you forever 🙏
yurp, I gotchu. I love cherpentious with my entire heart but anything for y’all 🫡
edit : THERE IS NOW A PART TWO!
Somethin’ Stupid - Sir Pentious
words : 1.77k, slight warning for ep 6 stuffs
God, this fucking sucked.
Cherri, who was - and you don’t mean to be direct, or self-loathing - downright fucking gorgeous, had been bribed to take you all out to a bar - well no, that wasn’t the exact instructions, but it was clear enough that Charlie didn’t expect much more from her. So here you were, slouched back on a vodka-stained couch in the corner of this bar, Husk lounging beside you while Nifty giggled and played with his fur, and your oh so beloved Sir Pentious across from you.
You kicked back another shot of whatever Angel had brought to you, pretending to find whatever Husk had just said funny (you were far too caught up in the way Sir Pentious was goo goo eyeing a certain Cherri Bomb.) and Husk spoke up, eyebrows furrowed.
“What’s up your ass today, kid?” He said flatly with a swig of his beer, raising one of his eyebrows as you finally snapped your attention back to him, trying to smile non-chalantly as you watched your beloved little drunken ball of insecurity slither towards Cherri again from the corner of your eye. “ ‘ts nuthin, Husk. Leave it.” You say with an annoyed sigh as you watch Pentious stumble over his words to an annoyed and unimpressed Cherri.
“- I’M HAVING SSSSEX WITH EVERYONE HERE!” He turns around and yells, which has both Nifty, Angel, and Husk snap their heads around with wide eyes. He gives you a sad look and you try to give him a reassuring one. That is until he gets dragged into a separate room, and you inhale sharply through your teeth, wincing at the way he screams before the door is shut properly. Cherri doesn’t even look like she cares.
“Ah.” Husk says flatly, catching your attention again. “Should’ve guessed after your fuckin’ ramble last night. ‘But Husk he doesn’t even know I’m here!’ and all those fuckin’ ‘I’ve been here longer than he has and he won’t even talk to me!‘s. he’s just nervous around you, like he is with Cherri. Fucker has some self-confidence issues. Just do it already.” He says, looking almost annoyed as you flushed deep and slapped your hand over his mouth, which he quickly swatted away.
“Shh! Jesus fucking Christ Husk, not so loud! Fuck!” You grumble as Angel giggles with a hand over his mouth from the other end of the booth, before taking another small sip of his cocktail. “Not a secret, toots.” He says with his casually shit-eating grin, gesturing to a very drunk Nifty who was giggling now too, nodding her head. Great.
“Sometimes, when I’m out killing the bugs that think they’re all sneaky, and gross and cool at night, I walk past your room and you’re listening to super bad romance music. Which scares the bugs away and makes them surrender their lives. Which like, it’s supposed to be a fight! You’re ruining all the fun… ” She adds the last part with a annoyed grumble, but despite her unbelievably drunken state, she’s still speaking fast, high-pitched, and with the exact same creepy undertones. “And I walk past that bad boys room and he’s all rehearsing romance poetry he wrote. It’s so bad! Ehehe!”
She giggles out, eyes falling on a bug on the floor, hopping quickly off of Husker’s head and falling face first onto the floor, before quickly picking herself back up and running after it. “Shit.” Angel groans, putting his cocktail down quickly and shuffling out of the booth. “I’m gonna make sure she doesn’t end up with some creep.” He grits out through his teeth, before disappearing into the crowd with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’d better help him out.” Husk says with a sigh as well as he placed his beer bottle down carefully, pulling himself up with a groan.
He turns back to you for a second, just looking over his shoulder, before smiling. “You should start considering the possibility of Cherri being a distraction.” He says, humming softly before he adds one last thing. “Please do check in on the awkward fucker though, I don’t know what kind of shit he’s got stuffed in him or is stuffing at the fuckin moment.” Husk says with a sigh, disappearing right into the ground of flashing lights and bumping bodies right after Angel.
You took the last courage swig of your drink and stood up, doing a little tipsy stretch as you got up, before dejectedly walking over to where a very, very exhausted Sir Pentious was sitting, hyperventilating and sweaty. You let out a soft sigh as you walked over, kneeling in front of him and taking his hands away from his face, holding them softly in your hands, looking up at him with furrowed brows and concern.
“Hey Pentious, that was a lot wasn’t it?” You say softly and he nods, refusing to make eye contact with you. He looks grossed out, ashamed, everything. You let out a soft sigh and rub small circles into the back of his palm with your thumb, doing your best to comfort him in the loud and overstimulating bar scene.
“They were very kind - I jusssst, kept ssssssaying yessss. I don’t know why.” He says softly, and you nod, standing up and helping him up too. “Let’s get you back to the hotel, ‘Kay? You can take a nice hot shower and go to bed.” You reassure quietly and he finally looks up from the ground, smiling at you quickly before nodding, but as soon as Angel catches his gaze again, he’s out of your grips and right back to focusing on Cherri. You grimace softly as you watch him rush up to angel and ask where Cherri is. You watch as he groans in defeat as she goes into another room with a random guy.
Some part of you feels happy, relieved of some jealousy. Another part of you feels bad. That was all he was doing the entire night, trying to get her attention. You shook it off and walked over to where everyone had re-grouped, giving them a tired wave, and getting one in return. You let out a small gasp as you saw the dried blood from Angels’ nose all the way down or his lip, his new black eye.
“Oh dear, what happened?” You cooed softly, reaching up to wipe some of the blood of his face, and he softly moved away, shaking his head in a polite ‘thank you, but not right now’ way, and you nodded. “It was just a run-in with Val.” He says with a sigh, wiping another fresh stream of blood from his other nostril onto the back of his hand. “Let’s get going - I’ll tell you when we’re back at the hotel, Toots.”
An unceremonious end to the night; but not exactly the end to yours. Even when you got back, debriefing everything that happened with Husk and Angel while Nifty snored on the couch and Pentious took a shower, even when you had finally wished them a good night and made your bed, sighing as you let your head fall to your pillow, you couldn’t stop thinking about what happened with him. What Husk had said.
“You should start considering the possibility of Cherri being a distraction.”
You repeated it in your head for hours while you tried to think about anything else, scrolling on your phone aimlessly through Hellflix, InstaScam, Crime Video, even YouCrude - there was no one to e-stalk, no new shows for you to binge, not even something you wanted to re-watch. No new uploads from your faves - just an endless amount of scrolling.
Until about 3 a.m.
That’s when you heard it - shaky, nearly silent sobs from Pentious’s room, small sniffles. You checked the time, sighed, threw a shitty pair of smiley-face PJ pants Charlie had made for you on, and slumped over to his bedroom, knocking softly on his door. It went dead silent, not a mouse, no the small clinking or squishing of Nifty’s bug-killing sewing needle.
“Who issss it?” He said in a shaky, tired, raw voice, and your heart absolutely melted, hand against the doorknob as you spoke. “It’s me, Pentious. I just heard you - uh - being sad. I know I’m not your favourite, but can I come in?” You say with a soft sigh, running your fingers through your hair tiredly. It takes him a minute and a soft hiccup before he rasps out a small “pleasssse, y-yeah.” And you open the door.
What you find is absolutely heartbreaking. Your favourite little serpent, curled in on himself, hugging his tail to himself, eyes red with tears that fall softly down his face, hat resting on his old worn down dresser, angry and frustrated swipes if his claws leaving him on top of torn up bedsheets and pillows, and you nearly cry with him right then and there. This sweet man who has been nothing but a pure angel, stuck with all the sinners, including yourself, down here.
You walked over to him, sitting beside him on his bed, hearing the old mattress frame squeak softly as you sat down, putting your hand on his, gently cooing him until he took big, deep breaths, gently and encouragingly rubbing circles back into the palm of his hand.
“Tell me, what’s up? I’m all -“ you start confidently, being cut off by an annoyed but desperate call from Pentious himself, pulling his hand away from yours and groaning into his palms, shaking his head. “that ISSSSS the problem! You’re the problem- you’re so pretty I can’t think sssstraight around you! And now you think I hate you!” He cries out, looking at you with desperate eyes, like he wants you to say something - anything, really. But you really can’t.
You’re completely frozen, hand frozen in mid air when it was going to rest on his shoulder to comfort him, eyes wife, lips pierced together and all you can do is stare at him like some stupid idiot. You are at a mental battle of grabbing his face and kissing him until you can’t breathe or slowly talking it out. He sighs dejectedly.
“I want to get closssser to you. Wanted to be your friend, at leassst. But… then I’d go and ssssspoil it all by ssssaying ssssomething sssstupid like…” he stops for a second, swallowing thickly. “…I love you.” He looks up at you again, nearly desperate for an answer. You finally get some words out of your closed up throat -
“I love you.”
~
Frank + Nancy Sinatra My Beloveds <;3
#hazbin angel dust#hazbin hotel#hazbin charlie#hazbin sir pentious#sir pentious#hazbin#hellverse#sir pentious x reader#valentino#I HATEHIM!! KILL THAT HOE!!!! FuCK!!
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Anything II (König x Reader)
The 2nd instalment in the Anything-Verse
Main Masterlist
Part 1 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6
Like the characters? Read their fics below!
Sunshine Masterlist || Saint Masterlist
Series Summary: A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper.
A/N: As requested by literally fucking everyone.
Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Forced Proximity || Enemies to ?
Warnings: Graphic language || graphic description of PTSD episode || graphic description of unintentional self-inflicted injury
You had thrown up. Twice.
Pressure snaked its way from your chest to your throat and nausea gripped your stomach. You felt deeply unsettled. Your fingers shook, your face was gaunt- you hadn’t slept properly in days. You were a mess.
All because of him.
You cussed beneath your breath, bouncing on your toes lightly. You were due for another training session and considering you’d bailed on the last one, you couldn’t afford to skip it again. You’d received an earful from Price for walking out after your conversation with König.
That fucker had reported back to the Captain that you’d simply ‘discussed the terms of the agreement.’
You slapped your thighs. Then, you hit them harder. The sharp pain jolted your system, and you used the distraction to force yourself out the door. The more you dwelled on it, the more you needed to vomit again.
This time, König was waiting for you.
He sat on the bench, legs spread and his head down. He was fidgeting with his gloves and, had you not known any better, you’d have thought that maybe you’d snuck up on him. But you did know better. König was aware of your presence the second you entered the hallway.
You sucked in a breath as he finally looked up, pretending that he’d only just noticed you. His features were obscured by his hood, giving you no indication of his reaction. He felt inhuman, there was no tug of his lips or twitch in his cheek- only an emerald gaze that stripped you of your courage.
“Birdy,” König tipped his head in greeting, your name soft on his lips. Your chest tightened at the sound of his voice. You hated when he spoke like that, low and from his chest. You wished he would yell, you wished he would be boisterous— anything to drown his promises of death in your ear.
“Your fight is finished.”
You didn’t acknowledge him. You didn’t say his name. Instead, you slowly entered the room and moved to the farthest side from him. Your heart beat wildly against your ribs and the nausea you’d felt earlier was back in full swing.
“The sooner we start, the sooner you can leave,” König reminded you, flicking his gaze across your attire.
“Then start,” you snapped. The man blinked at your aggression and his fidgeting fingers fell still. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. That emerald gaze was pinned to your figure, steady and inquisitive and terrifying. He straightened up from where he was slouched over, his seated form already taller than you standing.
“What can I do to make you more comfortable with this arrangement?” König spoke slowly, each word enunciated with careful control over his tone. Your heart dropped to your stomach, he was getting frustrated.
You wanted to spit at him that the only way you’d ever be comfortable was if he were to leave. You wanted to shout at him to fuck right off back to KorTac and never show his face again; that’s what would ease your mind.
But, as he held his body deathly still, that stare trained on yours- you reminded yourself of what he was capable of.
“The mask,” you whispered, cursing yourself for the way your voice shook.
König finally moved, leaning back into the bench as he took in a long breath. He waited for you to continue, to pitch your proposition, but your mouth had gone dry and your tongue had fallen limp. When he realized that you weren’t going to offer anything more, he nodded his head, clasping his hands together tightly.
“You want me to…” König bounced his leg, clearing his throat as he sat up straight. “You want me to take it off?”
You nodded your head. König said nothing. The sinking feeling that he just might reject your request began to worry you. He could say no and there would be nothing you could do to argue that, you were still required by order to do these training sessions regardless of whether he agreed to your requests or not.
You swallowed thickly, scrubbing your nose to break the eye contact between you both. You couldn't stand it.
"I can't do this if you're wearing that thing," you waved vaguely at his face, keeping your eyes low. "It- I just-"
Frustration burned in your chest as you flailed to articulate your feelings. You couldn't tell him outright that his stupid fucking mask plagued your dreams every night. You couldn't tell him about the terror that gripped you by the throat whenever you laid eyes on it.
König didn't let you finish, anyway. He reached for his hood, swiftly pulling it from his head and, again, you were thrown off kilter by his appearance.
His brows were furrowed as he observed you from beneath his lashes. "I know."
He knew what you were trying to say.
"Shall we start?" He asked, slowly standing to his feet. And, despite it being painfully obvious that he was keeping his body language open, you still took an inadvertent step back. You cursed beneath your breath when he straightened up to his full height, the urge to run from the room was almost overwhelming. König triggered your fight or flight response and your body was a slave to its survival instincts.
You sucked in a breath, forcing yourself to stay still as he approached.
"What are we doing?" You forced the question from your throat, trying to distract yourself from the hulking figure moving closer.
"Ground defence."
Your heart seized in your chest.
"I don't want to do this," you said as calmly as you could. Your pulse climbed rapidly as König's gaze softened.
"I know," he murmured. "But neither of us has a choice."
You didn't give a fuck about him or his choices. You couldn't care less whether he was here of his own volition or if he'd been ordered to take care of your training; you only cared about the fact that he was twice your size and had nearly murdered you once before.
You couldn't believe that Price was allowing this.
Betrayal stung in your chest.
Actually, what you really couldn't believe was how this cunt was even allowed to be here.
Clearly, you were dispensable.
Maybe you had overestimated your importance to the team, maybe you had misunderstood the bond between you all. You'd been replaced by your own aggressor and Price had allowed it.
Clearly, you hadn't meant as much as you thought to the 141.
“Birdy.”
You jumped, tripping backward into the bench behind you. You stared wide-eyed at König who was equally as startled by your reaction.
“What?”You snapped, straightening up as though nothing had happened, as though he hadn’t almost frightened you out of your skin.
He hesitated before continuing, the side eye he shot you was clearly one of concern. Disgusting. “I need you to lie on your stomach.”
“No.” The word fell from your mouth before you’d even realized it.
König raised a single brow. “You want this to happen again?”
He gestured at your swollen cheeks, the fresh scarring from your stitches that littered your face. The man referenced you like an artist would show off their masterpiece.
“Only to you,” you said, your voice sickly sweet as you forced a bitter smile to your lips. The fluid in your cheeks felt like liquid fire beneath your skin at the movement, but the way his expression fell made the pain worth it.
“Then get on the floor so I can teach you how,” König crossed his arms, carefully schooling his features to give away nothing- but it was too late. You saw that you’d hurt him with the comment, or at least affected him enough to feel satisfied.
Your small victory gave you enough courage to lie down.
Your logic reminded you to immediately regret it.
Konig’s knee came into your vision as he knelt by your prone body. You couldn’t see his upper body, you couldn’t see where his hands were. He made no noise to indicate what he was going to do and your spine seized along our back.
You didn’t want to do this.
Not again.
“König,” you rasped, pressing your hands into the floor. “König, I don’t want to do this.”
Your breath was too fast, you felt like you were channelling air in through your mouth just to be sent right back out. It was as though you were rapidly suffocating, not getting any oxygen to fill your lungs, the room spinning from where you lay.
“Birdy, you need this,” König reminded you from above. The words sounded distant and muffled like someone had placed their hands over your ears and spoken softly.
You gasped loudly as the man behind you straddled your back, the mass of his body resting against the lower half of your extremely fragile spine. You wanted to buck and kick and scream until he was forced off of you but your mouth was dry and words evaded you.
“I want to teach you how to spin onto your back first,” König said, his hands resting lightly on your shoulders. “You can’t win from your stomach.”
You couldn’t win on your back either.
“No,” you said firmly, twisting experimentally from beneath him. “No, get off. I’m not doing this.”
There was a sharp sigh from behind you and instead of moving from his position, König began applying pressure. Your chest sunk into the ground as he leant just a fraction of his weight onto your body.
“Then get me off.”
The floor was hard against your body, it felt like your ribs were collapsing from beneath you. You could barely breathe as it was and now you were gasping like a fish out of water. There were so many things he could do to you from this position, so many ways he could torture you and you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself.
You tried to press upwards with your hands in an attempt to relieve the pressure from your chest. It was fruitless considering the 130 kilograms of muscle pressing your face into the floor, but you tried again. Then again.
You were beginning to sweat, your palms slipping on the floor. Your arms shook from the exertion and you could feel your resolve slipping, your control spiralling from your grasp.
“Get the fuck off me,” you wheezed, that same ugly pressure clawing its way up your ribs and into your throat. “König, I’m serious. Get off.”
“Listen to me and I’ll teach you how to get out of this yourself,” König’s voice was firm. There was no room to argue, the bite in his tone enough to put the fear of God into you. “Pull your knee up beside you, slide forward to get up onto your knees and roll me off to the side.”
You followed his instruction, forcing yourself to breathe as evenly as you could. Your skin burned where he touched, your body screaming at his presence atop of you.
Get him off, off, off.
The weight of his body eased as he let you perform the maneuver. He was too heavy and you were too tired to pull that move off without his help, but you didn’t care anymore. You’d do anything for him to get the fuck away from you, you’d do anything for him to never touch you again.
Konig rested his weight back down, straddling your hips as you lay on your back now, facing upward.
The exact same position of that night.
Your breathing picked up and your hands began to tremble. The sensation of excess adrenaline flooding your body, a feeling that you were familiar with, rendering you shaking but incapacitated.
The hood was on his face again and his eyes were wild and manic. You’d never seen that look in a mans eyes before, you knew then that he was going to kill you. The emerald glint of his psychotic glare was all that you could see. It was so dark and he was so fast, you weren’t able to predict his moves because you couldn’t fucking see them. He was a shadow, he was death incarnate. Your body was on fire, your lungs screaming from within your chest.
The monster’s eyes drifted to your chest and you followed his gaze. The handle of a knife jutted from above your breast bone and you snap your eyes back to his. Blood sprayed in the space between the both of you as he twisted the knife in your chest. You’d forgotten the noise that it had made, your punctured lung sucking air from the bloody wound with a wet gasp.
König’s eyes were hard as he reached for your face, fingers outstretched and closing in across your vision.
Not again.
Not again.
“Birdy!”
You bucked, you heaved, you fought off his grip. You knew what was going to happen, you knew what came next. This time, your brain matter would be smeared across the floor, this time he would finish you off.
You clawed at the fingers wrapped across your face desperately, trying to draw enough blood for him to flinch away. You ripped at his skin as hard as you could manage, screaming against his palm.
“Birdy, stop!”
Nothing was working, nothing could stop him. You dragged your nails across his fingers, driving them into the divots of his cuticles in an attempt to deglove his skin from bone.
“Jesus Christ, get a fucking sedative!”
When König smashed your head into the concrete, you were grateful for the darkness that ensued.
You didn’t have that privilege last time.
____
The first sense you regained was smell.
And, by God, did you fucking hate that smell.
The scent of disinfectant flooded your olfactory system so viciously that you were forced up in your seat. You scrubbed at your eyes desperately, praying to whoever the fuck was listening that you weren’t where you thought you were.
White lights flooded your vision and you cringed back into the cushions, pressing your palms into your eyes.
“Easy, Birdy. Easy.”
That familiar cockney accent served as a warning. Gloved hands tugged your fists down from your face and you tried to regain control of your breathing, eyes squeezed shut.
“Ghost?” You rasped. Your voice was barely a squeak, and you realized with a frown that you’d lost it somehow.
“Thought I’d come pay you a visit.”
You slowly attempted to regain your sight, blinking away the blurriness and the harshness of the down lights. You gingerly observed your surroundings, heart sinking to your stomach as you recognised the room.
You’d been on this bed for weeks during your recovery from the incident.
Same hospital, same room, same bed.
You felt nauseas.
Swallowing the bile threatening to make an appearance, you dragged your gaze to the seat by your bed. Ghost sat so still you could have mistaken him for a piece of furniture had you not been actively looking for him.
The man watched you carefully, his hoodie raised over his head and the balaclava perched firmly over the lower half of his features.
“When did you get back?” You asked, cringing at the broken sound of your voice. Ghost exhaled through his nose and his eyes softened under your scrutiny, an expression you’d never seen before flickering across his gaze. You were disoriented, still unsure of how he had gotten there or what you were doing there.
“Yesterday.”
You froze, eyes widening as Ghost waited for you to come to the realization.
“How long have I been in here?” You cried, the words gutted by your vocal fatigue. “What the fuck happened?”
“You need to take a breath,” Ghost leaned forward, his hand pressing lightly against your shoulder, prompting you to lay back into the cushions.
“No, you need to tell me what happened, Simon,” you reinforced, throwing a hand to your chest. You pressed against the skin, as though you could force your lungs to slow down with just a touch.
Ghost made a noise from the back of his throat, strangled and uncomfortable. You could tell that he hadn’t expected you to wake up while he was there.
“You…” And for the first time in nearly a decade, you heard Simon Riley hesitate.
Your mouth was dry as you realised the severity of what had happened, the anxiety of not knowing what you’d done ripping at your chest. Your eyes were pleading now, begging him to just come out with it, to tell you the truth.
That stormy gaze was sympathetic. It made you tremble.
“You had an incident, Birdy.” Ghost said slowly, deliberating over his words carefully. “An episode.”
“An episode?” You questioned, narrowing your gaze. “The fuck do you mean an episode?”
Ghost didn’t shift in his seat the way König did when under pressure, he didn’t fidget or bounce his leg. Simon Riley sat still like a cold-blooded creature, watching you from the darkest corner of the room with a cool, steady gaze.
“PTSD, Birdy.”
You blinked slowly.
“During your ‘training’ with that cunt,” Ghost spat the words, his eyes shifting to the side as he centred himself. “We heard your screaming as we were on the way back in.”
“We?’ You rasped, dread settling in your stomach.
“Me and Johnny,” Ghost clarified. He exhaled softly, shaking his head. “You had to be sedated, kid.”
The skin on your cheek stung sharply before you could process that bombshell. You frowned, attempting to ignore it in favour of uncovering what had happened. Ghost was never one to beat around the bush, always outright and as ‘blunt as a cunt’, in Soap’s words.
So, why was he now omitting a key part of the story?
The skin beneath your eyes stung again, this time demanding your attention. You began to sweat at the sudden severity of the pain, hands flying to your face to diagnose the issue.
Ghost moved before you could blink, striking out like a cobra. His hands gripped your wrists, keeping them from scouring over the skin. Your eyes were wide as you appraised him, bent over your bed, your hands suspended in his grip between the both of you.
Your eyes narrowed. He mimicked the expression.
You shoved at his body, ripping your hands from his hold. You needed to get to a mirror. Throwing yourself off the side of the bed, you gasped as your knees buckled from their sudden use. Simon gripped your bicep, pulling you upright with ease, but you tugged against him immediately.
“Don’t fucking touch me.”
He retracted his hand as though he’d been burned.
You stormed into the bathroom, the door smashing against the rubber stop glued to the wall. The lights flickered to life as you bashed the switch with the bottom of your closed fist.
You could have thrown up.
Gauze pads covered both your cheeks, stained pink from what you realized was blood. Your face was bleeding. A whimper fell from your lips as you reached for the dressing, peeling it slowly from your skin. Your mouth fell open at the slow reveal of what hid beneath the gauze.
A strangled cry ripped from your throat.
Claw marks.
Jagged, deep wounds, tearing down the length of your face; raw, bleeding and fresh.
You couldn’t breathe.
Distantly, you could see Ghost standing behind you in the mirror, his gaze solemn and his hands clenched. You couldn’t ask the question, couldn’t form the words but you didn’t have to. Simon had understood you back when you were eating from a straw, your eyes so puffy you couldn’t open them for days.
His hand came to rest on your shoulder, the only comfort he could offer as you stared at your mangled reflection, yet again.
“You were screaming for him to get off,” Ghost began, his fingers tightening against your burning skin. “The fucker was standing next to me.”
Blood dribbled down the distinct lines engraved into your flesh, tracing the length of your throat and disappearing down your hospital gown. The both of you watched it trail your prickled skin, but you couldn’t move, suspended in time and trapped with the image before you.
Simon’s voice was barely a whisper when he spoke.
“You thought his hands were on your face.”
_____
NEXT CHAPTER
____
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tag, you're it! (e.w.)
ITS PRIDE MONTH PUSSSSSSYYYYYYY
omg this is kindaaaa…. yeah
imma lil proud LOL hope y’all like it
wc;cw: 14.2k, ceosdaughter!ellie, tagger/artist!oc, ANGST!!, mentions of depression and suicidal ideation, illness, parental death & brief mentions of funerals, descriptions of foster care/homeless shelters and poverty, both oc n ellie have daddy issues, MOMMY ISSUES!!, brief mentions of drug addiction(coke), homophobia DURING PRIDE MONTH🤨🤨, internalized homophobia and misogyny, ellie is a horny touch starved loser n kinda stalkerish?, mentions of criminal injustice(police, prisons, etc.) i hate it here, rich ppl being demons, SMUT!!!!! MDNI!!!!, light descriptions of masturbation, potential dubcon!!, sexual tension😟, bratty subbottom!ellie, mean domtop!oc she carries her dick on her like a glock lol, slight fearplay, KNIFE PLAY/BLOOD, DIRTY TALK, finger and strap sucking, fingering, pussy eating, MOMMY KINK!!, nipple play, squirting <333 n creaming <333, riding, reverse cowgirl, slapping(FACE!!! ass titties), hitting it from the bbbbback, loss of virginity, masochism LOL, a lil ass play LOL, pretty taboo themes catch it
“She’s… I genuinely believe she’s deranged, your honor! She’s… uncontrollable! Look at what she’s done to our city! Civilians can see her tracks everywhere they go, and it’s disgusting! Not to mention she’s a pervert!”
You rolled your eyes as you listened to the high-pitched, ongoing shrieks of one of the wealthiest women in the state as she spat belittlements of you to the judge.
You were… fucked.
You adjusted in your uncomfortable chair, leaning back and crossing your arms over your chest, turning your head to eye your lawyer, arching a brow at him as you waited for his defenses for you. He looked… scared shitless, to say the least.
Yeah. You were definitely going to fucking jail.
Were these pieces of shit really going to treat you like Satan himself for pulling a measly, little prank? Has April Fools truly lost all meaning?
A couple of days ago, on April 1st, you took it upon yourself to spray paint ♡GIRLDICK♡ across the largest building in the city, which just so happened to be owned by the Miller family, if anyone even bothered to call their cultist bond that. Their wealth swiftly accumulated when the now deceased founder of the organization, Joel Miller, discovered some new form of AI technology… or whatever the elders at the shelter told you. His death shook your city years ago; You weren’t sure why it was so moving for people, but R.I.P, you guess.
You assumed they were just another group of elitist fuckers, but he must’ve been decent at the most; You still remember his memorial broadcasting on the small TV at the shelter as the other residents mourned in solace.
Regardless, you hope all their institutions across the nation collapse one day, preferably with the rest of them inside.
The broad in the black, silk suit kept pointing her finger at you, and it took everything in your spirit to not get up out of your seat and rip it clean off her hand and shove it down her throat.
Not every tag you’ve done around the city has been rooted in “perversion”. There’s nothing perverse about… loving girldick. It’s a way of life!
Fuck security cameras.
Unbeknownst to them, you’ve already been coined as a hidden talent in the city, at least according to some people you know at the shelter. You’re faceless in the eye of the public, but that separation doesn’t negate their appreciation for your artwork. You even went viral for the mural you painted of your father for his birthday two years ago, even though the fucker that posted it on Instagram hadn’t included your signature. You could bet millions of people have seen it by now, and you gained absolutely nothing from it.
But, of course, your form of creative expression was being reduced to a jizzing penis. You've created countless mosaics around the city that represent the purest forms of love and sex, and now you are being blasted for being some sort of corrupt sicko. You only drew what came natural to you, and if people felt a way about it, they could choke on the fattest girldick known to humanity. You hate rich people.
Your father didn’t sacrifice everything he had to teach you the complexities of sketching for your name to be attached to outlines of dicks. You didn’t grow up watching your father skip meals so he could get you a new water paint set for your birthday every year for your art to be lawfully ridiculed. The only comfort this situation brought was that you knew he would’ve found the sloppily drawn cock hysterical. You still remember his laugh after all this time.
You miss him dearly. You probably could’ve been just as rich, if not more, as the bitch at the other table if he was still here with you. He would’ve ensured you didn’t stray off into the life you live now.
Being in foster care was the dissipation of your joy. You were considered a problem child very early on: fighting the caretakers when they tried to calm you, cursing at them, stealing, and nobody wanted to adopt you because of that, regardless of your talents. You were set up to fail too early, and you despised the world because of it.
Your record was horrendous, and you were going to jail. You fucking hate rich people.
… Except the Miller's eldest daughter. She gets a pass.
And she keeps staring at you.
Every time you caught her sparkly eyes, she blushed and looked forward, her freckles surrounded by a deep red that rushed down her neck. She was dressed much less… sophisticated than her mother: her hair tied back in a low bun and littered with black bobby-pins, a dark-blue sweater, rings on her thumb, black pants, and clean Vanz.
You knew a lesbian when you saw one. You could barely hide your knowing smirk.
“My child doesn’t need to be exposed to such… nauseating ideologies! Think of the children of the city and what they’re forced to see because of vile people like that,” she pointed at you again. You were this fucking close to stabbing her with that pen in front of you.
Your daughter’s gay, Mrs. Miller.
“With all due respect, ma’am,” the judge started. What kind of backwards shit was this; Wasn’t she supposed to be respecting him? “It’s important that we stay on track. You’re specifically suing her for vandalism— “
“Ongoing, unchecked vandalism! This is not her first charge, your honor, it’s her seventh! She’s… she’s— “
You tried to tune her out, looking around the congested space of the courtroom, and you caught eyes—shiny, green eyes— on you. Again.
She was fiddling with her hands in her lap, her teeth picking at the dry skin on her bottom lip. But she didn’t look away this time. You watched her eyes trail over your face, down to your jaw, your neck, your chest, only to come back up to your eyes.
You did the same, taking in the dots on her soft cheeks, her eyes, her pretty nose, and mouth, looking her up and down, biting your lip, letting her know you were gauging her. She was cute, you had to admit.
“—sentenced to three years in federal prison— “
You looked up in shock, feeling like your body had been dunked into a tub of ice water and left to die, instantly stiffening at the announcement of your sentence, the sound of the slamming gavel nearly putting you six feet under.
You couldn’t do anything but stare at the judge in disbelief as he organized his papers emotionlessly, your lawyer putting his hand on your shoulder. You knocked it off and glared at him. You looked over to the table, the family already up and taking their leave, Mrs. Miller’s hand tightly enclosed around her daughter’s wrist as she dragged her out the wooden doors.
Two security guards were already walking towards you with cuffs, gripping your arms too roughly to pull you up out of your seat and latching the metal around your skin. You started to panic as they walked you towards another set of doors.
“Wait, wait, my backpack, I need my— “
“You aren’t allowed to have anything on you. Your property will be held by the court until further notice.”
“But— “
“No buts, and don’t resist,” you felt the security grip your arm harder, and your anxiety peaked, your panting breaths hardly leaving your body.
You didn’t resist. You couldn’t. Your life was shattering around you in slow motion, loose shards slicing through you with intent to kill.
You allowed the brawly men to drag you… anywhere. You didn’t care anymore; You were tired, and no longer had the urge to fight left in your heart.
Ellie was brought up in isolation.
Homeschooled, no friends, no purpose outside of being the vessel to represent her family name, creating the next line of heirs for her father’s company.
The benefits of his successes had simply… appeared when she was fifteen.
She remembered how he went from being present, gave her the utmost attention, played sports with her, taught her how to sing and self-defense with his past down switchblade, to not, completely cut off from society as he barricaded himself in his study and worked relentlessly on new forms of technology. Being an only child brought nothing but loneliness for her after a while.
But then they were rich. They moved to an affluent neighborhood and into a two-story house in a matter of months, driving Porches and buying out stores. Wealth appeared, but the relationship with her family suffered because of it.
Her father fell ill, and after a multitude of hospital visits, teary farewells, and a memorial, he was gone. Merely a memory that hardly seemed real. Her and her mother’s relationship became even more unsteady after his passing.
Ellie’s mother swiftly took over the company in an almost authoritarian way. She interacted with society in a robotic, rehearsed manner. Mechanical, soulless, the only proof of her humanity exposing itself when she snorted white powder.
Her mother had brought up the idea of marriage the second she turned eighteen, a year before her father’s passing, saying that there were multiple well-off men that were eager to be with her, willing to give her children. Multiple.
Men…. children… having children with men. Money. The empire. Her mother.
It all made her nauseous.
… But art didn’t.
She’d always kept her journals secret. Left in a box on the highest shelf of her walk-in closet where the maids couldn’t find them.
She expressed everything that she couldn’t to her mother on paper. Her depression, her insomnia, her desire for death, her mourning, the need for sex with non-men, any form of physical connection, something—anything that made her feel human, normal.
She needed a fucking hug. A kiss. Sex. She wanted to fuck.
The first time she saw your artwork on an abandoned building as she chauffeured to the museum, she’d nearly fainted.
It’d been two women on top of each other, the most intimate parts of their body covered with the other’s hands and skin. One had her head between the other’s legs atop blankets and flowers as the other… apparently in the middle of an orgasm. Her mother always made the point of sex sound so… stiff. Lifeless. Merely a factor of procreation.
But your art was so erotic. Sensual. So full of pleasure and softness and care.
She’d almost jumped out of the car and onto oncoming traffic to get a closer look at every detail, but the car was too quick. She couldn’t even get a fucking picture.
And she was soaking. How the fuck was she going to explore a museum when she was dripping like this?!
You’d given her one of the strongest orgasms she’d ever had in her life when she returned home that day, and she didn’t even know who you were. She’d spent hours with her hand between her legs as she thought of your creation while her mother was out working, moaning and crying out as loud as she wanted, and she wasn’t even embarrassed.
She would sneak out in the darkest clothes she had when her mother passed out on the couch, and just walk. Specifically in search for anything with your signature that she’d memorized like it was her own. She’d taken pictures of your content, memorized them, got off to the suggestive ones in secret, and appreciated your love and passion for your craft.
She’d even started recreating her own depictions of eroticism. All with women. They never looked the same: different heights, all skin tones and body types, anything that she could think of, she drew it. She’d tried to envision what you looked like after only a few weeks, and she prayed her envisions were at least somewhat accurate.
She never could draw self-portraits with precision, but she knew it was her. She was always in the middle of the raunchiness that she conjured up in her mind, being touched everywhere, tied up, beaten, completely ripped apart and forced to forget the suffocating world around her. Her reimagining's of herself would be drowned in pleasure, sometimes by you, by herself, by faceless strangers. Anything she wanted.
When she saw you for the first time, she almost couldn’t control herself.
She’d felt like a fucking creep as she ducked behind parked cars to watch you paint all over an abandoned freight train behind a trashed building. The streets had been silent as she watched you decorate the metal cart in floral interpretations of pussy, her heart in her throat.
You looked gorgeous and focused and tired. So, so tired, only in sweats and a tank top with a hefty bag strapped to your back. She assumed you kept your art supplies in there.
Ellie couldn’t keep her eyes off you when she’d seen you during your court hearing.
You were just as gorgeous as the first time she saw you, but, somehow, even more exhausted. Far away, not really present, but she couldn’t blame you. And she couldn’t stop staring, enthralled by you. Even in your grayest moments, you made her feel vibrant. And that brought her guilt.
But it also made her lustful. Hungry.
And she couldn’t stop staring.
When her mother dragged her out of the hearing, she was enraged, even more so when she degraded you on the way back to the car.
You fucking stared at that whore the whole time!
Don’t ever, in your life, embarrass me again.
I’ll throw you in the gutter with that rat if you ever disrespect me like you just did in there. Do you understand?
Ellie didn’t even know what she did to garner a response this aggressive, but she was used to it. And, for the first time in her life, she didn’t care. She didn’t give a fuck.
At that moment, she knew what she had to do.
It was your fifth day in prison, and you felt nothing.
You didn’t cry, you didn’t plead, you simply succumbed to your destiny in silence. Your father would be so disappointed if he were alive.
I raised a fighter, so you fucking fight!
But you couldn’t. You were tired, and you wished you could stay asleep, never to wake up again.
You’ve been working like a dog since you got here, and you accepted it. This was your life, and you felt nothing.
Until your cell unlocked. These fuckers were probably here to shit talk you again.
They cuffed your wrists and led you somewhere. You didn’t care where, keeping your head down as they encased your arms in a calloused grasp. You hoped this location would be your last forever.
They led you into an empty room and uncuffed you. You saw the old sweatsuit that you’d received from the shelter, and your heartbeat sped up. You looked at the security in confusion. What the fuck were they doing? What were they about to do?
You could barely hear what the officers were saying, jumbled words of bail bond and cash payments molding together and sounding like a foreign language to you. They undid your handcuffs and pointed towards the clothes, murmuring for you to change so they could transport you back to the courthouse to retrieve your belongings.
What the fuck is going on?
When you returned to the shelter, you inspected your bag. After nearly scrubbing your skin off while showering.
The contents were all in their original condition, each individual item wrapped in plastic with small notes attached to them. Except for your dick. You assumed the court had no comments.
Your paint, your brushes, random hairpins, your notebooks. They were all there in their original condition. Thank god.
What you didn’t expect to see was a new jacket, sweatsuit, and small note wrapped in the same plastic from inspection.
You ripped the plastic open and retrieved the note, unfolding it and… confusion, arousal, and fear rushed through you, shocking your body as all your feelings shot down your spine.
It was a sketch of… you. And a girl bent over with her hands bound behind her back as you fucked her. An… incredibly familiar looking girl.
A freckled girl. A rosy-cheeked girl. The rosy-cheeked girl from a week ago with the psychotic, sadistic mother.
Her expression in the sketch was pure ecstasy. It looked like she was screaming, her cheeks shaded dark with water-paint and her hair a reddish-brown, thrown in all sorts of directions. Her eyes wild and erotic. Yearning. Teary. Her pleasure seemed dream-like.
And you looked just as gone. Head tossed back, sweaty with your dick shoved inside her pussy, your nails digging into the soft skin on her hips, small, but deep, bloody scratches following the painful glide of your fingertips that make the red blotches on her backside. There were small doodles of strap-ons and pussies smudged, erased, fixed to perfection that seemed almost manic. Obsessive.
You looked at the bottom of the crumpled piece of paper, a small signature across the bottom of it.
♡GIRLDICK♡
Come back home. Five days.
E.M.
… Come back home? You don’t have a fucking home. And who the fuck is E.M? Your heart was beating against your chest, climbing up your throat in an attempt to escape your body entirely. You couldn’t stop your eyes from flying across the sloppy penmanship.
… ♡GIRLDICK♡
E.M.
M.
♡GIRLDICK♡
M.
… Miller Enterprise.
Miller.
… Freckles.
…. What in the fuck.
It was almost dark, and you were shivering as the wind blew past you.
It had been five days.
You were eyeing the large building in front of you from across the street, a giant M slapped across the top of it, windows galore, hoodie on your head and trembling hands shoved in your pockets.
You could see the last bit of employees trickling out of the building, clad in suits and tight pencil skirts, heavy briefcases and clicking heels.
You could also see the fresh white and black paint covering where your spray-painted dick used to be, and it made you chuckle to yourself. You were almost tempted to recreate it with your new snagged bottle of acrylic. It supposedly glowed in the dark.
But then you saw a dark shadow in the corner of your eye, hurriedly moving past the glass of the entrance.
Your heart raced instantly at the thought of being discovered, and you followed the body's movement. You could see it was Ellie the closer she got to the glass, dressed in a black sweater and comfortable pants, and her same shoes from the court hearing. She looked antsy, a bit on edge, but curious. She was anticipating seeing you.
You could see her messing with the keypad on the door, the loud sounds of locks clicking over the bustling streets. Flashes of red, swiftly replaced with flashes of green shined through the maxi-glass, and she looked around at all the doors. What was she checking for?
She seemed satisfied with her job, and she slid the entry door open, leaving it slightly ajar so she could slip something between it.
She gave one last glance at the system before bolting back inside and down the lengthy hallway before all the hall lights shut off.
Did she… did she just disable all the alarms for you?
Now, you were the one anticipating meeting her.
You ran across the street the second you got a chance, hurdling through traffic before running up onto the sidewalk and treading the stairs.
You looked down and noticed two pens taped together, holding the door open. You picked them up and inspected them, a glossy, silver M near the gel tip.
You stepped inside before anyone noticed, the door automatically shutting behind you before the same green lights came on, a robotic voice confirming that the doors were locked.
You were inside the Miller Enterprise, and you were terrified.
Ellie was so nervous.
She’d been checking her Chanel watch all day, obsessively monitoring the windows to see if anyone that resembled your form had arrived, but she was disappointed every time she looked. No sign of you, yet.
The later it got, the more anxious she became. Did you see the note she left in your bag? Was it too forward? Did you think she was fucking crazy? Did you hate her for what her mother did? She prayed not.
She was currently pacing around her mother’s—father’s—dark office, every step of her shoes echoing in the nearly empty room. She hasn’t been in here since she was seventeen, and it brought just as much anxiety as it did the first time.
This will all be yours when I’m gone, don’t fucking ruin it.
She hated everything about this space. Every aspect of her dad was completely gone. All his pictures, his vinyl, his pens and pencils, his nameplate. Everything. All of it, completely void of emotion.
She hated it, she hated it.
But then she heard a clang in the hallway, and her anxiety picked up even more before she could process it.
She quickly made her way over to the exit, peeking her head through the doorframe and examining the hallway, searching for you. The noise had to be you! You really came! She could feel her nipples getting hard already.
But she saw no one. No one was in the dark hallway.
… Fuck.
Why did she shut the system off? The lights wouldn’t come on!
Her hands instantly got clammy, her heart racing, and her knees shook. She hadn't felt like this since she was a kid, and she was horrified.
Someone’s here to hurt you, someone’s going to come in and hurt you!
You never leave doors unlocked! He always said to lock your doors, never, never, never—
She couldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts from taking over her entire body, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her father’s switchblade, pressing its latch down to expose the blade. She slammed the door shut and walked over to the large window and tried to steady her breathing. She looked out of the glass and inhaled harshly.
Keep your grip tight when you strike!
Calm down calm down calm down—
“Boo.”
You saw Ellie jump with a hard gasp before spinning to face you, a fearful look on her face and her switchblade in hand, pointed edge towards you.
You could see her chest rise up and down with every shaky breath she took, her body trembling and cheeks flushed. You felt like your body was going to burst into flames, but you hid it, grinning slyly at her as you stepped forward.
Deep breath.
“Hi, Ellie.”
Another step forward. She took two back, nearly pressed against the glass.
“Y-You,” she stuttered as her eyes darted around nervously, and you could see her cheeks flushing in the darkness, “How’d you get in here?”
“I think you know how.”
You shrugged, the contents of your bag shuffling on your back. You pointed towards the large, stretched windows behind her that oversaw the entire city, the hustling streets and lights beaming into the dimly lit room from the last bits of sunset.
“View’s incredible,” your mockery littered in sarcasm. Don’t let her know you’re scared.
She took a bold step forward as her brows furrowed, anger twisting on her doll-like face. You took two, as well. You saw her eyes dart to your feet before meeting your gaze to hiss at you.
“There’re cameras on every floor of this fucking building! I press that button,” She darted her small knife towards the enclosed, red button on the side of the wall, a large print of EMERGENCIES ONLY directly above it. “And every cop in this city’ll show up and take your ass back to the fucking gutter where you’re supposed to be.”
… How the fuck was she going to threaten you when she told you to come here?! What was she playing at?
She pointed her weapon back at you. You ignored your confusion and raised an impressed brow before walking forward without pause, pulling her mother’s chair out from under the desk, the wheels squeaking against the marbled tile. You saw the grip she had on her knife tighten.
You smiled at her. “You’re pretty good with a knife, honey.”
“Fuck you. Don’t fucking call me that.”
“I dunno,” you scoffed, twirling on your heels as you took in the luxurious space around you. “I can bet my bottom ass dollar that you like it.”
Her glare hardened, and your smile brightened. You finally moved to sit in the chair, the plush leather molding against your body and stuffed backpack. You scooted back under the desk and rested your elbows on the hand-carved rosewood, completely calm. At least outwardly. Your insides were jittery from adrenaline.
You quickly inspected the contents of the desk: her mother’s matching rosewood nameplate, some loose paperwork with large sums of money scattered on them, dark pens and markers, and a signed restraining order. With your name on it.
You’re apparently not allowed a hundred feet within the perimeter of the building.
… Funny.
“Press it.”
Her scowl hardened, “What?”
You pointed a lax finger towards the button as you looked up from the document, “I said press it. You want me gone so bad, right?”
She didn’t reply, her fingers fidgeting around the knife as she adjusted her grip. Her eyes nervously flitted across the room, all over the white floors, back on you.
“You’re not gonna press the fucking button.” You spat with a devilish smile. “And I know why.”
“Fuck you, you don’t know sh— “
“You paid my bail.”
You heard her release a shaky exhale when you sliced through her words, her eyes widening in shock like she saw through you, and you knew you had her. Your smile widened as your nails pattered where you tapped on the desk.
“Uh huh. Why’d you do it?”
Her throat moved as she swallowed, and you almost laughed.
You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out the piece of paper that kept you company in your small cot during your restless nights, unfolding it and holding up the explicit depiction that she left in your bag days ago. You pressed her as you swung the chair with your foot, “Think somebody’s got a little crush. Mommy’s gonna be so upset with you.”
“FUCK YOU!” She marched towards you until she was in front of the desk, her scent enclosing around you before you felt the incredibly sharp blade against the side of your neck, and you stiffened in terror. You looked at her in shock, studying her expression. She looked pissed, but you saw… something in her eyes that made your core squeeze tight.
It was vulgar, needy, and you hoped she missed your body’s excited shudder at her crude rage.
She didn’t. Curiosity shone behind her lust and fiery, her enraged shrieks shook your eardrums.
“You’re fucking worthless! You really think anyone’s gonna care about you rotting in a fucking cell?! You’re… you’re nothing! You’re a low life! You’re… you’re! —“
You deadened your own eyes as you slowly moved to stand, but she pressed the knife deeper into your skin as she leaned over the desk, your faces closer together. You stiffened and felt a sting on your skin, and a drop of wetness. Your pussy squeezed, and you could feel sweat looking under your jacket.
“Gonna kill me, Ellie?” You glared at her, your heart pounding with fear and exhilaration.
Say you want me. Say it, sayitsayitsayit!
Her eyes were vengeful as she scanned your face, but you saw that glint grow behind the harsh overcast. Something you craved just as badly as she did.
“Really want mommy to see her precious girl killing somebody on camera? Hm?”
“She,” her breath shuddered. “wouldn’t give a fuck if it were you, I promise.”
You barely whispered your reply as you leaned even closer, your nipples hardening under your sports bra and your underwear clinging to your wetness.
“Then do it.”
The heavy breaths she released hit your face in a burning wind, and your core tightened once more. You could see the aggression on her face slowly dissipate, that giddy sparkle in her eye overtaking her pupils as they darkened.
You felt the cold steel pull away from you slowly, her hand coming down on the desk, — unfortunate— and it threw you into action.
Your hand flew up to her throat and squeezed the sides, and you heard the clatter of the object as it hit the wood. You heard her suck in a choked breath as her eyes glossed over, suddenly desperate and wanton and scared like you’d been seconds before. She looked like a neglected kitten, and it made you hold her neck in tighter constriction.
She whimpered aloud as she attempted to gasp, her hand coming up to grab your wrist, but you snatched it away with your free hand, and it limply dropped to the desk, her body submitting.
You leaned in closer to her, and her eyes squeezed shut, lips puckered, silently begging for you to kiss her. You snickered.
You let her neck go and slammed your palm across her blushing cheek, a loud crack! filling the room.
She cried aloud, looking like she was about to burst into tears as she jumped off the desk and backed away from you, her hand pressed against her searing cheek. You rose to your feet and circled around the desk, rushing towards her until she was pressed up against the window. Tears were running down her face. You shoved her closer against the glass, grabbing her cheeks to force her to look at you.
“You’ve been watching me, haven’t you? I got a little fan, is that it?”
“N-No— “
“Yeah, I do. Fuckin’ stalker. Probably gotta whole shrine t’me in your fucking room. Does mommy know that you worship me? The lowlife who fucked up her building?” You snapped at her.
She flinched at your tone before she choked out a gasped sob, “I j-just liked what you m-made.”
“Stop crying, Ellie.”
She nodded as she sniffled, wiping the tears off her cheeks. You grasp loosened on her cheeks as you cupped her face, your thumb brushing away the wetness on her already bruising skin. You noticed how she leaned into your caress. It made your heart jolt.
“Look at me,” you whispered.
She hesitantly met your eyes.
“You wanna kiss me?”
She looked down at her shuffling feet, and you saw her fist clench.
“Answer me.”
“Y-Yes, wanna kiss. Just… just one?”
You hummed in satisfaction, inching closer towards her like you did previously. She stiffened but shut her eyes tightly, her plush lips poking out in a pucker once more as your noses touched. You chuckled and whispered, your lips brushing against hers as you spoke.
“You ever kissed anyone, baby?”
She sighed out an uneven nuh uh, her mouth chasing yours. You grinned wider.
“Oh? M’gonna be your first kiss?”
She whined out a needy uh huuuh!
You stuck your tongue out, slowly running the wet muscle over her lower lip, and you felt her whole body tremble against yours. She brainlessly stuck her tongue out to lick yours, but you pulled back. She tried to follow you, but you yanked her head back by the small bun at the back of her head, the soft strands curling around your fist.
She let out a moan, and your tongue licked up her exposed throat, leaving a trail of spit up her chin, all the way to her mouth.
You relented and connected your mouths, and she let out a shocked noise into your mouth. You slipped your tongue in her gaping mouth, wet, smacking noises filling the room as you kissed her hotly. She couldn’t keep up with your quick movements, her lips and tongue moving sloppily against yours. Her spit was all over the outside of your mouth.
You felt her hands come up to your hips to grip your jacket in a tight fist as she moaned into your mouth.
The noises she let out were so sweet: little, excited gasps and whiny keens as she tried to pull you closer.
You released her hair and grabbed her chin to move her head to the side. You kissed down her neck, and she jerked against you. Her breaths increased in pace as you pecked her sweaty skin, lapping your tongue all over the side.
You sucked into the skin under her ear, right under her jaw, pulling her sweater down to mark her collarbone.
“Pleeease, pleaseplease, ah— “
You mumbled in between gentle sucks, “What, Ellie? Talk.”
You felt her hands grab your hips tighter, but she said nothing. You pushed her hands off you roughly and looked at her with piercing eyes. She shrunk into herself when she met them.
“When I tell you to do something, you do it. You understand?”
She nodded quickly.
“So fucking talk,” you gritted out.
“Want,” she whispered with a sharp gasp. “Want you.”
You smirked, “You want me?”
“Mmhm!”
You shoved your backpack off your shoulders, the thud echoing when it hit the floor.
“Want me to do what?”
She paused before looking down at her feet again, twiddling and picking at her fingers as her face burned red.
“Um…”
You rolled your eyes and turned away from her, but you felt her hand grab your wrist and you stopped. You looked at her in annoyance.
She looked at you tentatively, her breathing shaky.
But then she slowly brought your hand in between her legs.
She shivered as she placed her hand on top of yours, making you rub her cunt back and forth. She released pleased sighs as her lashes fluttered, her head falling back against the window as she looked at you up and down.
“P-Please?” She licked her lips. “Wan’you here.”
You scoffed in shock, and her thighs squeezed down on both your hands. You pressed your palm closer against her, and her hips bucked into you.
You moved closer to her, your clothed chests pressed together.
“Move your hand,” you spoke quietly, just for her to hear even though you were alone.
She dropped it limply. You pressed your palm into her covered clit, and she moaned.
You leaned in, your lips brushing her cheek as you spoke.
“Baby just wanted her pussy touched? That’s why you acted out earlier?”
She didn’t speak as she panted heavily. You brought your hand up to slap her cheek again, and she released a pained cry as her hips twitched.
“Talk!”
“Yes! Needa… need t’be touched!”
“Tell me where.” You brought your hand back down to her pussy as fresh tears slid down her cheeks.
She sobbed. “A-Anywhere!”
You leered at her soft face. “Yeah? I get t’choose?”
She nodded quickly, her eyes screaming touch me, please! Make me cum!
“Open your mouth, honey. Stick your tongue out.”
She mewled softly, but did what you asked, her shiny, pink muscle glistening under the beaming city lights.
You brought your hand up, rubbing your index and middle finger on her soft tongue.
“Get ‘em wet.”
She hummed as she sucked them into her mouth with no hesitation. You felt her tongue messily swirl around your digits as she sighed contently, and you pressed an encouraging peck on her cheek.
You slowly fucked your fingers in, pulling them out, only to push them back in again. You almost awwed aloud when she chased your digits every time you pulled out. She was already drooling for them.
You pressed her tongue down as you fucked in, and she gagged on them. Her eyes shot open and they instantly watered, her throat tightening around you.
“Bet you suck a mean dick,” you muttered before you could stop yourself.
She moaned loudly as you fucked deeper into her mouth, pressing down on the back of her tongue.
“Oh, yeah? Want mine down that pretty throat?”
She garbled and nodded as much as she could with your fast thrusts in her mouth. You couldn’t wait to fuck it open.
“Snooped through my shit, didn’t you? Saw my fucking cock and creamed yourself? That’s why you bought me new shit?”
You saw her bring a hand down to touch her pussy, her hips bucking into her own hand, chasing any stimulation. You grabbed her wrist and pulled it away from her.
You finally eased up on her throat and pulled out completely, lines of slobber connecting your fingers and her mouth together. You cut them with your own tongue, her spit clinging to the edges of your mouth.
You planted a smacking kiss on her lips before you shoved your hand down her dark, flared pants and into her boxers.
She squealed when you immediately found her clit with your spit covered fingers, the slippery bud sliding between your already drippy fingers. You watched her hand fly to the white windowsill for balance as your hand went wild on her cunt.
“Such a wet fucking pussy. Feels good, baby?”
Her brows creased as she nodded, her body rocking with your movements. “A-Ah! —“
“Uh huh. You touch yourself like this when mommy’s at work? Hm?”
Her head shamefully jerked in confirmation. You could see her now: her pretty legs spread on her plush bed, her sopping pussy squeezing at the thought of you fucking her just how she needed. She’d be grabbing at her tits as she flicked her clit, desperate to cum all over her blankets for you. Your pussy was so wet.
“You think about me when you do it?” You knew the answer, but you needed her to say it. Confirm that she thought about you just as much as you thought about her.
“Yes! Yes, yes!”
“Fucking whore, no wonder she hates your guts.”
She moaned louder at your degradation. “S’c—coming! “
Your fingers were practically vibrating on her cunt, her clit thumping as her orgasm built. “Get my fingers nice’n sloppy, angel, c’mon— “
She reached down to grab your wrist as she jumped on your fingers, but before you could slap her, her body tensed, and her eyes rolled into her skull. You felt her clit pulsate under your touch, and you knew she was cumming.
“Fuckmemommy!”
You couldn’t stop the shock that appeared on your face as you watched her thrash on your hand, gasping out, asking you to please fuck me, mommy! Need you to fuck me!
You just massaged her through it, pressing your hips up against hers so she couldn’t run from your touch.
“Wan’mommy to fuck you, angel?” you mumbled in your daze as your pussy dripped, your brain barely registering what you just said.
“Yespleasepleaseplease, gimme— “
“Fuck, baby, need mommy inside you?” Your heart was pounding in your ears.
“M-Mhhm!—“
“Gimme your leg,” You lifted it up with your free hand, bringing it up so it came around your waist.
You slid your fingers down to her twitchy entrance and slipped the tip of your pointer finger inside. You almost moaned at how her walls clung to you, sucking you in deeper, milking you.
“Tightest fuckin’ pussy,” you mumbled to her, and she whimpered when your finger arched inside her. You prodded around until she slumped against you, pushing her hips down on your finger. You leaned in, your lips brushing her ear as you cooed right there? yeah? feels fuckin’ good?
She couldn’t even speak. She just plopped her head onto your shoulder and sloppily kissed your neck. Your cunt clenched and you flinched when her soft tongue licked into the small slit she made earlier. You heard her hum as her tongue swiped a line from your collarbone to your cut; She was licking your blood up like a fucking dog!
It made you punch that spot in her harder, and she cried out against your skin, her nails digging into your forearm.
You slowly pushed your middle finger in, and she sobbed as she stretched around you. You arched your thumb out to rub her clit as you poked that spongy spot in her pussy; She was so loud for you.
“Like when I touch you there?”
“I like it, like it s’much!” You felt her nodding mindlessly against you.
“Gonna cum on me again?” you spat at her.
“Fuck yes!”
“Know you’re gonna cum hard, can’t even fuck you like I wanna, squeezing me so tight.”
You dug your fingers as deep and fast into her as her cunt would allow. Her walls were choking the fuck out of you, practically screaming for them to stay where you were pressed inside her. How the fuck was she going to take you fully?!
The thought of breaking her open made you shake, “Gonna make this pussy take me. Can’t wait t’give you this fucking dick.”
Then she started screaming out for you, trying to get you closer, wrapping her arms around you, her leg dropping onto the floor. “Ohgodohgodohgod, m’cumming, mommy, I’mcu—AH!”
You almost fell back when she went limp on you, her knees buckling as her slick coated your fingers, your palm, her panties. You used your weight to push her back against the window, her head thudding against the glass like before, but she seemed too engulfed in her desire to care. You almost brought your hand up to comfort her sore spot, anyway, but you stopped yourself.
You took her in: practically dangling off you as she wailed from orgasm, her face beat red, the bun at the back of her head almost loose, her eyelids fluttering. You sneered at her, a nasty grin on your face.
“Atta girl, so excited for cock, ain’t she?”
She could only grind out yesyesyes between her teeth, her fingers still squeezing down on you as you rubbed her clit, her orgasm slowing down.
“You gotta make me cum first, m’kay?”
“W’na make… mommy cum!” she nodded like a bobblehead as she slurred.
“Yeah? Want mommy’s cum in your mouth?”
She wept desperately, “Yes, please, need it!”
You grinned, catching a glimpse of your desperate reflection in the mirror. You’re so glad she was too fucked out to notice.
“C’mon, honey.”
Ellie stood in front of you as you sat in her mother’s chair, her shoes kicked off.
Your bag was tossed next to you as you stared at her, noting her fidgeting stance. She wasn’t looking at you, at all. She was looking down, specifically at your occupied hands.
You’d picked up her discarded knife from the table, inspecting its rusty, scratched design, slightly bloody blade, retraction. You couldn’t stop fiddling with it.
“W-What’re gonna do with that?” You heard her ask.
You ignored it. “Where’d you get it?”
“It was my dad’s.” Her voice went sharp.
“What kinda father lets his baby play with such sharp objects?” You said in between sarcastic snickers.
“He’s fucking dead, who cares.”
You finally looked up at her sharp tone, examining her tense face, and your playful smile slowly dropped. She tried to appear as if mentioning it didn’t bother her, but you recognized that look in her eye from anywhere. Grief fucking sucks, no matter how much time passed.
“… Hm.”
You looked down at the blade again, then back up at her, “He taught you how to… handle it?”
She shrugged, her brows raising as her arms crossed over her chest. You nodded.
Your arm was suddenly incredibly itchy. “Mine taught me how to… draw n’stuff.”
You looked off to the side awkwardly as you reminisced on the first pack of colored pencils he’d bought you. You remembered how particular he was about the art utensils and their conditions. You didn’t realize that he was trying to ensure their quality because he couldn’t afford another pack until you got older.
Always make sure these bastards are sharpened! That’s true precision!
“… Cool,” you heard her say, and you looked at her, “Were you guys, uh, close?”
“Mhm,” You nodded stiffly, and silence surrounded the two of you. Ellie awkwardly nodded as she stared at the floor, and your lips twitched before you turned to stare out the window.
Some time passed in pure silence before you heard her speak.
“… Still wanna, uh… D’you still wanna fuck?”
You looked at her as she fumblingly scratched the back of her head. Her eyes met yours as her ears burned. You grinned as your shoulders rose.
“Up to you.”
“Like… I still wanna if you do,” She nibbled on her bottom lip.
You leaned back in her mom’s seat.
“Ellie.”
The deep tone of your voice made her look up, her eyes shining like crystals as her arms dropped to her sides.
“Yes?”
“… C’mere.”
She moved, her sock-covered feet padding on the floor until she was in front of you.
You looked up at her, your hand coming up to play with the hem of her sweater.
You spoke softly, “Off. C’mon.”
She grabbed the back of her top and lifted it over her head, her bare chest jiggling with her movements. She tossed the fabric to the floor.
You eyed her chest like you were going to swallow her whole, her perky nipples urging you to reach out and pull on them. Her pussy is so fucking sensitive; Were her nipples just as bad? Worse? Could she cum just from you touching them? Fuck, she probably could—
“Are they… Do you like them?”
Her soft whisper cut through your gawking. You met her eyes through your lashes as she squirmed in front of you.
Your hands came up to grab her hips, massaging them gently.
“Yeah, baby. They’re so pretty, fit you perfectly.”
She sighed in content, “T-Thank you.”
You planted a soft kiss to her tummy as you looked at your thumb around the elastic of her pants to pull them down.
Her stomach jerked with every sharp breath as your lips moved on her bare skin. You felt her hand come up to your shoulder to grasp it as she stepped out of her pants.
Your hands traveled upward to grab both her tits in a rough squeeze. She wheezed and arched her back so you could get closer. You heard her murmur a quiet fuckme, and you looked up. She was watching your every move with wide, curious eyes. You held her gaze as you licked up her torso, and she whimpered.
You brought your hands back down to grab the back of her thighs, moving her closer to your lap. She placed her hands on your shoulders as she climbed on top of you, and you sucked her nipple into your mouth.
She grinded down onto you and moaned, and your eyes fluttered shut. Your tongue made circular movements on the pert bud, and you hummed at the taste of her soft skin. Her head fell forward as she gasped right in your ear, and it made you suck on her hard.
Her hips were jerking on top of you, trying to fuck down onto your clothed thigh as her nails plunged into your back.
“Feels so… mmh!”
You brought your hand back up to her other tit and played with her nipple with your fingers.
And then you slapped it. Hard.
She let out a sharp squeak and mindlessly bounced on top of your leg; You could feel a slight dampness building on your jeans, and you scoffed at her, sneering when you pulled away. You hit her other tit just as hard, your spit transferring onto your palm.
“Ah! Fuckfuckfu— “
Smack!
“Yes!”
SMACK!
She squealed. “M’gonna cum!”
You reached up to slap her face before pulling her hair to the side with a tight fist.
You quickly grabbed her switchblade off the desk and unlatched the blade, the sharp edge popping up. You instantly pressed it to her neck, and she choked on a ragged pant.
The lust in her eyes was accompanied by fear, and you grinned.
“Don’t get scared now. You were waving it around earlier. So ready to fight, huh?”
She shuddered, rutting down on your leg again, and you pressed the sharp edge into her skin harder. Her eyes shut tight, and two fat tears fell down her cheeks. She nearly bounced on you.
“I could fuck you up right here, you know that, right?”
“Please, mommy, needa cu—!”
You moved the knife away and released her hair, slapping her in the face again. “Shut the fuck up, you nearly slit my fuckin’ throat and now you wanna fuck. I should leave right now, fucking brat.”
She sobbed, “Nonono, please don’t leave, mommy don’t go, m’sorryI’m— “
“Mommy, don’t go!” you mocked. “Get on your fuckin’ knees.”
You kept the blade pressed against her jugular as she clumsily shuffled to the floor, her cries shaking her body.
“You wanna apologize?” She nodded jerkily, minding the silver edge on her vein.
“Yeah? Wanna make mommy feel better?” You said with a mean pout.
“Mhm!”
You sloppily kicked your boots off and shoved them under the desk.
“Take m’pants off, baby. C’mon.”
She moved quickly, unbuttoning and tugging your jeans and underwear down your legs as she sniffled. She yanked them off with a hard tug, and her eagerness made you giggle as you lifted your hips. You unzipped your jacket and pulled it off your shoulders, tossing it to the floor, leaving you in your black tank top. You could’ve sworn you saw a glimpse of a grin on her face as she eyed your breasts before she dived towards your cunt.
You shoved the knife closer against her, and you saw blood pool at the edge of the blade. She looked up at you with an anxious expression.
“I didn’t say you could touch me. Ask nicely.”
She looked confused as she mumbled brokenly, “Ask you what?”
Your brows furrowed at her, “My mistake. You probably never had to ask for shit in your life.”
Her bruised cheeks glowed red as she looked down in embarrassment.
You grinned slyly. “Say, mommy, may I eat your pussy, please?”
Shock overtook her expression before she rolled her eyes at you and looked to the side.
“You’re fucking cra— “
You yanked her dark hair back and pointed the end of the blade against her bruised jaw. Her ragged breaths hit your face.
“Say it.”
“Y-You're not gonna hurt me,” she stated unsteadily.
“You don’t know shit about me, and even if I did hurt you, you’d want it. Admit it.”
She avoided your gaze and her lips quivered.
You continued. “You’d let me do anything I want because you’re disgusting. A filthy fucking slut with a silver spoon in her mouth.”
You huffed at her with a frown. “And you like girls. You’d be just as worthless as I am in her eyes if she found out.”
You nodded over to her mother’s nameplate, and her eyes shut like she was a child getting scolded for stealing candy at the store.
“I’m right, baby? You don’t want a husband? Don’t wanna get bred for the empire like she wants?”
She shamefully shook her head as tears fell down her face. You didn’t even know if she was in that circumstance or not, but by her reaction, it seemed to cut her deep. You ignored the searing pain in your chest.
“Mhm, so,” you turned her head so she could look at you, her red eyes burning through yours. “Something you wanna ask me?”
Her mouth dropped open in submission.
“M-Mommy, may I… May I eat your pussy, please?”
You smiled in satisfaction, placing a gentle kiss on her wet forehead.
“Yes, baby, you may.”
You pulled the knife away from her and set it on the desk, grabbing her chin to plant a kiss to her mouth. She whined happily into yours.
You pulled back and adjusted your position, leaning back with your legs spread, the underside of your knees hooked into the armrests of the seat, your cunt on full display for her. Your sopping pussy was right next to her face, and you saw her eyes flutter in delight.
“Want me t’show you how?”
She nodded intensely.
You brushed away the flyaway hairs on her forehead, your hand planted on the back of her head.
“Spit on my clit, babe. Get it nice n’wet.”
She released a glob of spit right onto your pulsing bud,
and you sighed as it dribbled down to your hole. You tilted her head back, remnants of slobber collecting on her chin. You gathered spit in your mouth and pulled her lower lip down, her mouth falling open. You spat onto her tongue, and she moaned, tilting her head down to spit it out all over your pussy. You bit your lip so hard; you almost drew blood.
You reached down and spread your lips, your throbbing clit poking through. You could see her trembling as she eyed you.
“Wanna taste, Ellie?”
“Yeah, please, mommy,” she choked out.
“Lick me, then, honey.”
She wasted no time, the tip of her tongue circling around the nub instantly. Your mouth fell open at the sensation. The pink muscle was so soft, the licks slow and gentle, barely there.
“Doing so good, baby, take your time,” you sighed out.
She keened at your praise; her lashes flitted like butterfly wings in Spring as she rubbed your clit in deep licks.
“Fuck, Ellie, s’so sensitive,” she whined against you, eyes begging for your approval as she watched your expression. You caressed her burning cheek with your pointer finger, and she licked deeper.
“Fuck, baby, that’s it, making me so happy,” her eyes rolled shut as she tongued you, sliding her tongue all over your pussy in slow strokes.
You moaned out every time she came up to lap at your clit. You guided her head down to your hole, and her tongue slipped inside, slurping up all your slick. You were gasping her name out as her tongue wiggled inside you, swirling all over your walls.
“Such a good girl, fuck, El!” you groaned out as wet sounds filled the room. “Wanna make mommy cum?”
She hummed excitedly and nodded, her tongue moving back up to massage your clit. You tightened her grip on her head, forcing it to move back and forth her hums shaking your clit.
She moved her head faster against you when she sucked your clit into her mouth, and your head fell back against the chair as your eyes rolled back. Your thighs were shaking, toes curled as you squealed out encouragement. You needed to cum, she was going to make you cum!
“Get me there, pretty, m’— gonna make me fuckin’ cum— “
“Wan’mommy’s cum, please?” she sloppily murmured against you.
“Gonna get it, baby, m’right there! —“
She was fully moaning all over your clit, “Gonna fuck you so good, angel, fuck yes!”
You peeled your eyes open and looked back down at her when she released your clit to moan aloud. Her drool and your pussy juice were all over her pink lips as she sighed and whimpered in pleasure. You couldn’t see what she was doing, but her forearm was moving frantically as quiet shhlcks filled the room.
“Ellie.”
“Mommym’gonnacum— “
“I swear to g— “
“S’so wet, oh god, please!”
SMACK!
Her head flew onto your thigh at your hard slap to her face, and she screamed out as her body tensed up. You watched her with a scowl as she squealed out m’cummimgsohardmommy against your skin, a puddle of drool forming on your skin.
You yanked her hand out of her boxers, and she whined in protest as her orgasmed died, her hips bucking back into the air. You stood up, pulling her up by her waist and bending her over the desk, holding her down by her neck.
“Stop fucking with me, Ellie.” You pulled her boxers down under her ass, taking in the sight of her still pulsating cunt and her twitchy ass.
She spat at you over her shoulder, “Or wha— “
SMACK!
She groaned out in pain against the wood when your hand connected with her asscheek in a fiery slap, your hand burning.
“Motherfuc— “
SMACK!
You hit her and hit her. And hit her again. And again. Until she was jerking away from you, her hips bucking against the desk and your handprints covering her ass in a cherry-red tint.
You don’t even remember how many times you slapped her, but she was sobbing out apologies against the desk, asking for your forgiveness over her tears.
“You done fucking around?” Your hand felt like it was in flames when you dropped it on the desk.
“Yesyes, mommy, I won’t—sob— won’t fuck up again!”
“I was actually gonna eat your pussy out,” you scoffed out nastily, and she only cried harder at the insinuation that you weren’t anymore. “You don’t want that, you don’t want me fucking nice.”
You pulled away and walked towards your discarded
bag on the floor, digging through it and pulling your dick out, stepping into and adjusting the straps as you watched her bruised ass jiggle with each wail.
Your dick stood up as you walked back over to her. You gave her one last hard slap on her marked ass and pulled her up by her arm, shoving her onto her knees in front of you so she was trapped between you and the desk.
You could see her wiping away tears, but you grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at you.
“You want dick so bad? Get it wet so I can fuck you.”
Shock appeared on her face.
“Y-You’re gonna fuck me with that?” You watched her inspect the size of you. The length, the girth, all the ridges. Her breathing got heavier the longer she stared.
“Now you’re fucking scared, really, Ellie?”
“I’m not sca— “
“Talk back again, and I’m leaving. You’re getting on my fucking nerves.”
She glared at you, but looked down, straight at your tip, then back at you.
And then she spit on it, a fat glob of saliva dribbling down the sides of your cock. Her hand came up to wrap around the base, rubbing her spit into the silicone. She held eye contact with you as she stuck her tongue out. You reached down and placed your hand on top of hers, slapping your tip on her slobbery muscle.
“Good fucking whore, good n’sloppy,” you let go to pat her still-red cheek with a heavy hand, and her pretty eyes hardened, her blush deepening. She dropped her mouth open, her lips curling on the tip as she sucked on it. You bit your lip as you watched her tongue swirl around you.
She moaned around the silicone, her eyes filthy. Her hand spread her spit up all over you as she took in your inches slowly, jerking you off and slobbering on you at the same time. She looked like a fucking pornstar, like she practiced for this, like she wanted to impress you, and you shook like you could actually feel her mouth. Your pussy was desperate to cum, but you pushed it aside and watched her.
She released you with a wet pop, her tongue flicking around your tip like she was lapping at your cum, and you couldn’t stop the moan that left your mouth.
“Nasty slut, goddamn— “
She smiled like you just called her the prettiest girl in the world before sucking you back in, her head bobbing up and down as she slurped you up. There was so much spit on your length that it started dripping onto the floor.
You bucked forward, your hips moving on autopilot, and she choked on you, her hand coming up to your thigh to squeeze it. You ignored her grasp and fucked into her mouth harder, pinning both her arms above her head on the desk. She gargled around your dick, and you could only imagine the tightness of her throat with each gag.
“What, baby? Don’t like it? Want me t’stop?” You gritted out. And you thrusted deeper. She moaned and her mouth opened wider.
She was making wet noises around you, her head thudding against the top drawer of the desk when you fucked in. You fucked your entire cock down her throat, and she gagged hard.
You pulled out and let her go.
She fell forward and coughed hard, her drool pooling down on the eggshell floors as she choked. You watched in irritation as she heaved.
“Get up,” her gasps slowed as she breathed in deeply, and she lifted her head to glare at you from her hunched position.
“Get up.”
“Fuck you,” she spluttered.
“I’m gonna. Get up.”
Despite her bitterness, she slowly stood and instantly bent over the desk with her scarred ass poked out towards you. You chuckled when you saw both her holes pulse in excitement.
“That’s how it is?” you slapped her asscheek, and her hips bucked back against your hand.
“Uh huh,” you heard her crackly mumble dazedly. “Need you t’make me cum.”
“Seemed alright doing it yourself a few minutes ago.”
She ignored you, and you smirked, “Need your cock, mommy, pleeease, please— “
You reached out, running two fingers over her drenched slit, and she pressed back on them as she sighed in pleasure. You slowly slid your fingers down to her clit, and she moaned aloud, her thighs jerking.
“Look at this fucking pussy, jesus.”
“I-It’s pretty?”
“Yeah, baby, fuck,” your mouth watered when you saw her walls clench. “Can’t even be mad, you’re so fucking hot.”
“Then fuck me,” she whined out sweetly, looking at you over her shoulder.
You leaned down until you were eye level with her pussy, her walls squelching and squeezing repeatedly. You bit your lip and kitty-licked her cunt, her slick painting your taste buds as her smell surrounded you, and she jumped at the feeling.
“Taste like fucking honey.”
“So do you, made me so wet,” she exhaled as she shivered in anticipation.
“S’gonna hurt,” you whispered, more to yourself as you eyed her tightness.
“Don’t care.” She pushed back on your face.
“Put your hands behind your back. Don’t move them.”
She shuddered and obeyed instantly, her hands overlapping at the wrists at the small of her back.
You pressed one last kiss to her pussy before standing upright, “You move your hands, I stop.”
“Not gonna move, mommy,” she whispered in between unsteady breaths. “Make me feel good, please. Please, please.”
“Shh. Got you, baby. Open your legs,” you caressed her back and she squirmed. You felt goosebumps rise all over her skin, and you smirked.
The gap between her thighs widened even more for you, her cunt on full display. You could hear her beckoning you to pop the tip inside her in tiny, desperate whispers, and it made your core clench.
You inched closer to her until the back of her thighs pressed against the front of yours. You wrapped a hand around your wet dick and brought it up to her slit, soaking it in her gooey slick and sliding it between her silky lips. Her cunt was already soaking your entire length and you didn’t even fuck her yet. She was subtly pushing back on you, trying to get you inside her.
You heard the enthusiasm in her voice when she keened, “Mommy, please, it’s right there!”
“Mhm, I know, I see it,” you mumbled wetly, her gooey cunt looked so pretty under the light of the city, shining like glitter.
“Making mommy so wet baby, such a pretty girl,” you brought your cock back up to her slit and pushed forward, slowly popping the tip in her snug opening. She squealed loudly, and you saw her fists clench at the end of her spine as her walls clung to you, pulling you in.
“Yesyesyes, oh god, mommy, fuck, uh huh!”
“Yeah, baby? It hurts?”
“Nooo, feels s’good, oh shit! —“
You slowly pushed in another inch, gauging her reaction for any discomfort, your thumb moving on her hip softly. She tried to push back to take you deeper, but you held her hips down.
“Fuck mefuckmefuckme— “
“Gonna be my good girl, baby? Gonna take it nice’n deep?”
“Yeah, mommy!”
You pushed in even deeper, and you could feel the resistance of her cunt the more you slid in. You couldn’t stop the moan you released when she said your name.
“Y-You’re splitting me open, ffuck— “
You pressed in the last bit of your dick, her ass resting at the top of your thighs, your hands propping you up on the desk as you leaned above her, placed on either side of her head. She was sighing heavily in satisfaction, and you could see her glossy eyes rolling.
“Feelin’ good?”
She nodded slowly, “U-Use me, mommy, please use me t’cum, fuck.”
“Gotta take care of my girl first,” you fucked out of her slowly before snapping your hips, fucking all your inches back into her, and she screamed. “Such a tight pussy.”
You bent down to kiss her pretty back, down her spine as you stroked her deeply. You’d barely completed your fourth stroke before you felt Ellie tense up under you, her body shuddering as she moaned quietly to herself. You snickered at her.
“Baby’s cumming?” you licked up her spine again.
You could only see her nod in jerky headshakes from where you stood, her cheek pressed against the desk. You looked down at where you were connected, and you could see how her walls struggled to choke your dick. You grabbed her wrists in one hand and fucked her through her orgasm, your free hand sneaking under her hips to rub her clit.
The second her body relaxed, you saw the muscles in her back flex again, the arch in her back deepening, “Mommy, think—m’cumming again, oh god, motherfu— “
“How many are you gonna give me, angel?” you rubbed her clit faster, fucking in harder.
“I feel it, I feel it, fuck!” She wasn’t listening to anything you were saying as she yelled in her pleasure. You could see how much she was wetting your cock, lines of her slick forming every time you pulled out of her. You angled your hips downward when you fucked back in, and she shouted your name out, her warnings of her orgasm echoing in your ears. You released her clit and pinned her down by her neck again.
“Like it right there, baby? That’s the spot?” You could feel your core squeezing with every cry she let out, her voice completely broken, her squeals scratchy.
She was babbling about something, but you weren’t listening, the squelchy sounds of her cunt increasing in volumes as you forced your dick in her, stirring her guts up.
You looked down and saw her ass squeezing with every quiver of her cunt, and you licked your lips. You let her wrists go and brought a hand to your mouth, sucking your thumb in to wet it before rubbing her ass with it.
She let out a loud slew of ah ah ahs before you felt a burst of wetness on your thighs, dripping down onto the floor. Her entire body was jerking back onto your, her rosy ass jiggling every time she hit your hips.
But then you heard a slam above her shouts of pleasure and mommy!
You looked up to check on her unsteady form as she continued to drench your lap, her hand resting on the back of her mother’s nameplate, her fingertips digging into the wood as she screamed in her euphoria.
It made you fuck her harder and pull her hand away from the dog tag. You didn’t even care about punishing her anymore, you needed to cum. You’d been riding that edge since you got here, and you knew you were going to cum so hard.
You leaned over her body and grinded into her, moving her hand away from the plate and sitting back up in its position. You grabbed her by her spit-coated chin so she could look dead at her mother’s name. She whimpered and tried to look away from it, but you tightened the grip on her face to keep her still.
“Look at it, baby— “
She sobbed, murmuring how hard she was about to cum again, her eyes fluttering as she stared at it, her cheeks glowing like apples.
You bent down to her ear, “You embarrassed, angel? Huh? Wanna close your eyes? Gonna squirt on me again?”
She was looking dead at the plate, “You’re so deep, mommy, fuck yes, m’gonna!—“
“Nasty fucking slut, taking it so good,” You looked up at the clear window as your thrusts picked up pace again, the entire city shining through the glass in all its glory. Every light of every building, people roaming, honking, noises of construction. It was all beneath you, and it was all theirs. The strap was bumping on your clit with each thrust.
“Look at your city, baby,” you lifted her weightless head by her wild, knotted hair and made her look into the distance as you groaned in pleasure. “Gonna be all yours one day, can do whatever you want with it soon.”
“Fuuuck— “
“Uh huh, you like having that power? You can get whatever the fuck you want— “
“M-Mommy!”
“Just need a baby, right? Gonna g-give her what she wants? Gonna give her that precious heir, that golden child?”
“Yesyesyes! Wan’your baby, ge’me fucking pregnant!”
You moaned at her begging as you babbled mindlessly to her, “Gonna cum in you, fuck, need it… t’catch— “
She was screaming about how your seed was going to catch in her womb, how hard she was going to squirt again, begging you to fuck her harder, hurt her, make her bleed, make her scream. You could feel your senses leaving as your orgasm built as she pushed back on you, and you moaned her name in her ear.
“Fuuuck, Ellie,” your clit jerked, and you let her go, her head falling onto her arm in front of her as she yelled in euphoria. “Gonna make that bitch raise my fuckin’ kid while I’m gone? Huh?”
She didn’t even react to your slip of your departure, “Yeahyesyesyes! Fuck, I’m cumming!”
You felt another spray of liquid drip down your legs as you drilled her, and it triggered your own orgasm. Your clit jerked as your release rushed through you, your walls clenching as your body shook on top of hers, grinding against her to ride it out. You could almost feel the sensation of filling her up, her cunt sucking your cum deep inside her.
She was still moaning above you, wringing the last bits of her orgasm out on your cock. You whined against her sweaty skin, the aftershocks moving through you.
You felt her go completely lax underneath you, heavy sighs leaving her parted lips.
You both caught your breaths in soothing silence.
After Ellie asked you to show her how to kiss properly, the pounding of your heart refused to slow down.
You were seated in her mother’s chair once more, her wetness still coating you in stickiness as she straddled your lap, her arms around your neck as she gazed at you nervously.
“We just fucked, why do you look like that?”
Her brows creased, “Like what?”
“Like you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared,” she whispered, her eyes flickering down to your lips before looking back up at you.
You only hummed at her, brushing your noses together before leaning forward, grabbing the back of her neck to pull her down to you. Her eyes shut tightly, and her lips puckered in front of yours, and you pulled back, grabbing her face to stop her.
“Stop doing that, just relax.”
“… What’d I do?”
You mimicked her, poking your lips out stiffly before breaking out into a grin. She huffed with a tiny smile, shaking her head, “Sorry.”
You shrugged, uncaring. She looked down, “Where do I put my tongue?”
You snorted, “Nowhere yet.”
You craned your neck up slowly and connected your mouth with hers gently, your lips molding against hers. She sighed and leaned closer into you, her arms tightening around the back of your neck. You felt a sharp sting in your chest at her delicate touch, and you pulled away. A soft smack filled the room when you separated. She smiled softly, “That was cute.”
You nodded stiffly, murmuring a mhm, before looking down. Out the window. Behind her. Anywhere but her eyes.
You felt her nuzzle against your cheek, kissing it gently, “Are we… uh, fucking again?”
“You want to?” The pounding in your ears was giving you a headache.
You felt her nod. Another kiss to your cheek. Another pull in your heart.
Your hands planted on her hips, lifting them so she could sit on you, but she grabbed your wrists to stop you.
Her hands latched onto the hem of your shirt, attempting to pull it up and over your head, but your hand caught her wrist. Not harshly, but stern.
Her eyes softened at your masked expression, releasing the gentle grip on your shirt, “I’m, uh… I’m sorr— “
“It’s fine. Ready?” you grabbed the base of your dick in your hand, and she mumbled a quiet yes.
You felt her hand come on top of yours as she helped you guide it to her entrance, and your breath shook as you exhaled.
Her hips came down on you at her own pace, your free hand resting on her hip. She gasped when it slipped inside, her hands coming to support herself on each armrest.
“Feels different like this,” she whispered huskily.
You smirked, “I know, take your time.”
She nodded, slowly sinking down on you. You saw her eyelids get heavy as her walls caught on every ridge of you, her head falling back in her pleasure. Her soft locks disheveled all over her head, her bun nonexistent as her bobby pins stuck out from every direction.
She slid in too deep, though. She let out a pained gasp as she caught herself on the chair, her brows furrowing.
“Okay?” you checked in.
She nodded, her lip in between her teeth, “So deep like this, fuck… don’t know if I can go all the way down.”
“It’s fine, babe, make yourself feel good.”
“H-Help me?” her breathing was picking up as her hips bucked.
Your other hand flew to her hips, digging into her soft skin as you guided her hips on you. You eased her into a deep grind, and her hands flew behind you, landing on the headrest behind you.
Her head rested in the crook of your neck as she followed your movements, her wet moans hitting the side of your neck. The sensation of her breath on your skin made your pussy clench.
“Am I—gasp—doing good, m-mommy?”
“Fucking me so good, baby, shit,” you whispered in her ear, and she moaned aloud in yours. She sped up on you, the harness digging into your clit with each swivel of her hips.
Your hands moved down to grab her ass, spreading her cheeks before slapping them, grabbing the plush of them in your hands. She fucked you harder, and you felt her spit drip on your neck as she wailed into your skin. You threw your head back on the headrest when she sucked on your neck, right on your open scar.
She lifted her head up and looked at you with gentle eyes, her hands moving down from the headrest to grab your cheeks in a soft touch. She was panting on your mouth, her lips brushing against yours with every jump on you. She was so close and she smelled so good, her lips soft.
She whispered dreamily, “Can’t stop cumming— “
Your eyelids fluttered, “Then don’t. Give it to me, m’so close— “
She grinded harder as she leaned down to connect your lips in a honey-sweet kiss. You reciprocated against your brain's desires.
Push her away. She’ll never be yours! This is all she wants from you!
Tears built in your eyes as your peak approached, her moans increasing in urgency against your mouth. You sucked on her bottom lip, biting it hard. This is the most eager you’ve felt since you touched her.
“Cum with me, pleasepleaseplease— “
“I’m gonna, baby, fuck me hard!”
She was going crazy on your dick, full-on bouncing on you, taking it all despite her protests earlier, and you felt yourself tipping. Your pussy squeezed and soaked the harness as your orgasm pulled in your gut. You looked down at your cock, and it was drenched in her white, sticky substance. She was creaming all over your cock as she used you. It made your eyes cross in your skull as your euphoria hit you.
You were so loud as your nails tore into her skin, your moans matching hers in volume. You felt another splash of fluid on you, and you came harder, another wave crashing through you. You would’ve curled in on yourself if she wasn’t on top of you.
You felt her tongue slide into your hungry mouth, swirling around yours as you shouted through your high. She was making you feel so good, and you couldn’t fucking think.
You felt like you were cumming for minutes before the harsh pulses slowed into soft twitches, her hips slowing, and she bent down to kiss you. The touch was soft, sweet, undeserved. You stiffened, on guard immediately.
She was close, she was too close. Her soft caresses on your face snapped you out of your intoxication, pulling away from her mouth and grabbing her hips to pull her off your dick.
“T-Turn around, Ellie.”
“Huh?” she asked softly, her eyes teary and delicate.
“T-Turn around,” your voice trembled.
“O-Okay.”
She was too fucking close.
She lifted off you, planting her feet on the ground and you spun her. You pulled her down on your lap, her ass in front of your cock. You grabbed your tip, pushing it past her entrance, and she mewled. She took it with ease, mewling out as her back arched into you, swallowing you whole as she sunk down again.
She planted her hands on your knees and immediately bounced on you, her toned ass meeting the base of your harness with every jump on your cock.
You could see her pussy suck on your inches, suffocating your girth, her walls clinging to you.
You grabbed her neck and pushed her forward slightly, and she cried out in painful pleasure. You planted your feet on the floor and fucked up into her.
“Fuck! Your dick feels so fucking good! Oh my—agh!”
You saw even move cream spread over your dick with every fuck inside her squishy walls. You were moaning with her, fucking her harder, faster, the hand on her neck moving up to pull her hair hard. The sound of wet skin slapping accompanied the sounds you both made in your pleasured state.
You were going to cum so fucking quick, “Fuck, Ellie, shit— “
“I’m gonna cum so hard, mommy!” your hand in her hair flew down to her hip, grinding her down harder on you. You moaned at the feeling.
“Yeah? Already?” You were right behind her, those euphoric waves pulling in your gut.
“Fuck—fuckyes!”
“Want it so bad, get it all over this fucking dick, baby— “
Her hand that'd been playing with her tits flew down on top of yours on her waist, her fingers lacing with yours tightly as she shouted, screaming your name. She met your harsh thrusts as she bounced, and she squirted on you again, and you watched it gush out of her, wetting your stomach and harness and the chair beneath her, the sound of splattering liquid on the floor making you cum the hardest you ever had. Your vision whitened as your orgasm crushed you.
She kept cumming on you, and you kept cumming for her. The pleasure didn’t stop, and all you could do was scream her name out like she did yours, hold her hand tighter as your brain melted. She rocked back and forth on you, prolonging your orgasm, making you cum harder. It just kept building in intensity, the aggressive pulses wracking through you, your toes curling as she milked you, and all you could do was take it.
You blacked out in her mom’s chair, the last thing you remember seeing was her pulsing, squirting pussy, pulsing ass, and the auburn stars that painted her entire back.
Some time passed, your lashes fluttering open as you felt soft touches on your face.
You were met with delicate, green eyes, Ellie looking at you with a softness you hadn’t seen in years. It felt foreign, deep, and it made your heart pick up in panic.
You pulled away from her touches and looked around unsteadily.
She was too close. Too fucking close.
The office was a mess: clothes everywhere, the floor was soaked, the whole room smelled like sex and pussy, desk askew, its contents thrown everywhere, Ellie’s tears and puddles of spit all over the surface. You could even see splatters of… her on her mother’s restraining order against you.
You were suddenly terrified, moving into action and guiding her off your lap so you could stand. You undid the straps of your dick and stepped out of it, cringing at the drying stickiness, and throwing it into your backpack.
You heard her speak from behind you, “Hey, hey, you okay? What’s wr— ‘
“Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine, I gotta go,” you said tensely. Unwelcoming. Guarded.
“Did… did I do something?” She sounded too soft, too gentle.
“No, Ellie, I just, I gotta go,” You dressed erratically, pulling your underwear up and jeans on, wincing at your cum sticking to your garments.
You could hear the crack in her voice, “Can I… do you need help or— “
“Ellie, I’m fucking fine. I’m fine, okay? Forget it.” You spat over your shoulder as you repacked. Don’t look at her, don’t fucking look at her.
She sounded just as anxious as you did, “W-Why are you so upset with me all of a sudden? What’d I do— “
“You didn't do shit! Can you fucking drop it please!”
Her breath shuddered, “I thought… I thought we were… okay?”
You whipped around to face her, an incredulous look on your face. Your heart shattered when she flinched, but you yelled at her anyway. Why the hell did you look at her?
“Why the fuck would we be okay?! Did you forget how we fucking met in the first place!” You pointed behind her to the soiled court order, “We’re never going to be fucking okay! Get that through your fucking head.”
You reached down to grab your heavy bag, throwing it over your shoulder in a hurry. You felt like you were going to suffocate. You needed to go. Right now. You turned towards the door. You hadn’t even shut it all the way when you came in.
“I’m never going to see you again, am I?”
Your own tears fell at the dejected acceptance in her voice. She sounded so broken, and it was all your fault.
But you knew this was for the best. The two of you could never exist together in bliss, even though meeting her was the most human you’ve felt since you were a child. Since your father was alive.
But you were too different, too damaged. All you would do is hurt each other, you would resent each other, grow to hate, to regret. The world was too cruel, and she was not prepared for its harshness. You were barely prepared, and you lived it every day. And you promised yourself to never go through the despair of loss again. You walked towards the door and heard her release a quiet sob.
“No,” you pulled the knob, the spacious hallway being another reminder that you didn’t belong. Not here, not anywhere. Her mother was right.
You were worthless. Held no value in this society.
In another life, you could’ve been something great. Your cards could’ve been different, better. You could’ve made your father proud. The two of you could’ve been happy.
“You won’t.”
You left the same way you came, moving in urgency before her sobs lured you back to take her in your arms, against your will.
Maybe in another life.
hi lol OOOOOOWEEEEE
this was heavy sorry gworlies i love sad shit
don’t hate me too much?
omg tell me what y’all thought or whatever *looks away shyly
thank u 4 reading if u did :3
hi taglist love yall @cherriessxinthespring @ellieswifee @elliespookie @belovednanami @sevikasimp @saturnsellie
#ellie williams smut#ellie williams au#ellie williams#ellie williams angst#ceosdaughter!ellie#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou#lesbian#ellie williams x you#works 𖧧࣪
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thinking about a homophobic gay jock giving nerdy loser reader brain 😵💫😵💫😵💫
love ur ideas KEEP EM COMING BB 😫 (just now saw the simon ask im cumming expect that one soon babe)
tw// dumb smut, f slur, internalized homophobia
(sorry this is terrible i am barely coherent as i write this.)
oh lord homophobic gay jock where do i begin.
homophobic gay jock who's more eager to suck you off than you'd think. giving you puppy dog eyes at a party, then quickly dragging you off to the bathroom when his dumb friends are occupied. his hands on you as soon as the lock clicks, dipping under your shirt and fumbling against your jeans.
"easy, boy.." you groan out against his lips, but the fucker is thirsty. poor boy has to keep up his little facade around all his jock friends, mocking you and your friends in public. but now look who he's on his knees for.
"just- just- please... you know i need this." he says as he lowers himself to the floor, hands coming to his thighs eagerly waiting for instruction.
"yeah? need what, baby?" you swipe your thumb across his pouty lips. "thought i was a faggot, huh? 'nt that what you and your friends said the other day?"
"didn't- didn't mean it. please, you know it he- helps me. i need it, in m' mouth."
hehehe n he's so pathetic, biting his lip, that you can't help but give in and unbuckle your belt, the clinking sounds of the metal not helping his aching cock.
as soon as you pull your length out, his mouth instinctively opens- but he doesn't dare to touch you until you give him the okay.
"y' gonna suck me good and hard, yeah?" you tease as you slap your tip on his lips. he flushes and his face gets hot, and he lets out a quiet "yes, sir."
but he gets so embarrassed when you're mean to him while he's sucking you.
"hey, what would all those- fuck, those dumb jock friends of yours think if they saw this now, huh? what would they think, baby?" he lets out a muffled whine, lips around the base of your cock.
"i wonder who'd- oh my god, who'd they call faggot from now on. seeing their big, strong captain on the bathroom floor, sucking dick like a whore."
you can see your words take effect as he lets out high pitched moans, and starts to rub his thighs together more.
"what if i took a picture right now for them, huh? 'n sent it to that little group chat of yours. i bet you'd like that, right, slut?" he has no room to protest, with tears running down his face from your cock hitting the back of his throat.
by the end of the night he has a mouthful of cum, and you have a new wallpaper !! ^_^
#gay#sub men#cherrie's little brainrots#lgbtqia#male reader#fanfic#dom!male!reader#fanfiction#smut#pure smut#mlm thoughts#mlm love
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Haunted house
Oscar Piastri x female!reader
Summary - McLaren are doing a haunted house halloween video and Oscar manages to rope in his girlfriend
Warning - Blood (fake), swearing, chainsaw (fake), clowns, spiders and a mention of the exorcist??
A/n - Another first timer today!! I love Oscar!! 🤍
23 Halloween season
-
When Oscar told me that McLaren were doing a Halloween challenge video for their YouTube channel and had offered Oscar to rope me in, I was excited. Growing up I Ioved Halloween; dressing up, getting free sweets and watching spooky movies, they were just so exciting to me.
Naturally I grew up but yet I still held that love for the holiday. So that’s why I agree and now I’m in the passenger seat of Oscars car on our way to the secret location.
Every so often he was gently rub his thumb across my thigh, we were have a light conversation between ourselves.
Eventually, Oscar pulled in a car park when the McLaren social media team and Lando were stood around just talking and most likely waiting for our arrival. “Ah the couple has arrived!” The Brit was the first to notice us and announce our arrival.
Getting out the car, I was grateful that I decided to wear a large cream wool sweater because the weather felt nippy. “Hey dude!” Oscar and Lando greeted each other with a quick fist bump. It was soon followed by a quick side hug between me and Lando.
-
The McLaren pr manager was quick to fill us in with the details of the video; we all would be going into the haunted house, go through the different sections and then come back out at the end. Simple as that.
At this point though, thats when my nerves kicked in. I started to get anxious but I didn't want to show that emotion, knowing that if I did Oscar would make me not do it.
The team started to film, before Lando and Oscar explaining the video to the viewers. "Hey guys! So today me, Lando and Y/n are going to do this super fun haunted house!" There's sarcasm in his voice when he says 'super fun', which makes both me and Lando laugh together.
Lando manages to compost himself. "There will be multiple different sections to the house, however we don't know what the sections are and what they're like" I look over to the entrance of the house and cringe. "So let's go!"
We all start to walk towards the entrance with the camera man behind us. "Ladies first..." As if insync, Lando and Oscar move to allow me to walk in first which I quickly say thank you to and walk inside despite my nerves.
Once inside, it's pitch black. I can hear distant noises which I cannot describe, foreign noises. A hand goes to grasp mine and I jump at the sudden contact. "It's me, sweetheart" Oscars australian accent comes from behind me in the darkness.
"Oh god...we're two steps in and Oscars already being all lovey dovey" The Brit from what sounds like behind Oscar complains.
"You're such a child!" Oscar moans as to which laugh along with him.
After walking about five steps through the darkness, we come to another door. Making our way through the door, I'm greeted with walls decorated in thousands of tiny orange, blue and green glow in the dark dotes. "Oh this is cute!" I comment but immediately regret my words when a glow in the dark clown starts jumping out on us.
"AH FUCK!" Lando shouts, even though he is the furthest back out of the three of us. The bright clown laughs hideously and starts making his way towards me.
I'm suddenly pull back by my hand, the hand that Oscar has ahold of. Colliding with his chest I feel him quickly moving us past the clown onto the next section.
Just as we made it past the clown, the two of us hear Lando again. "You ain't scary bitch!" There's a pause. "AH Wait fuck, maybe you are!"
Oscar leans his head down, so that his mouth is next to my ear. "Are you okay?" He whispers, and in that moment I feel alone and disconnected from the world with him.
Nodding my head. "Yeah, it was cute and then that fucker came. But yeah I'm okay" I lean up to give him a quick kiss on the lips before looking around at the next section.
There's a bloody operation table, laid on top is a little girl dressed in a long white gown. Her hair long, black and extremely tangled. Around us, looks like an old operating room yet the walls, much like the table, is covered in crimson blood.
You know instantly when Lando has entered because of his uncontrolable reaction. "EW! WTF" I find myself laughing at his childish reaction to the section, Oscar laughs along with me.
Lights start flashing and we all turn to the girl on the table. Noticing how she is now slowly moving up into a sitting up position. "Oh and she lives, just fucking brilliant!" McLarens British driver comments sarcastically.
Once she sits up, her waist turns so she is now facing us. "Help me! Help! He's going to kill me!" Just as she finishes her sentance, we all hear the whirring of a chainsaw behind us as to which we all turn. Coming face to face with a tall and broad man, in his hands there's a chainsaw and much like the rest of the room covered in blood.
He jumps forward, more so my way, causing me to scream out in fright. "I need another body...yours will do" He smiles disturbingly.
“Yeah fuck this, no way are you coming after my girl sir!” This took both me and Lando by surprise as Oscar was never one to react this much openly. He quickly moves us out of the room, Lando still behind us when he says “Yeah that’s right bitch! Back off!” Followed by his high pitch laugh and a high pitch scream, also from Lando.
-
We all collectively make our way through the rest of the haunted house, coming across a spider themed room and a exorcist themed room. As usual, Lando is making little comments and screams the whole way through.
Admittedly on some of the room, either me or Oscar join in Landos terrified comments.
I push through the long bunting across the door way, we come out of the haunted house. A camera team is set up awaiting our post haunted house reactions.
“That was fun!” I comment which earns me a dirty look from Lando, and a laugh from Oscar who has his arms wrapped around my waist.
Both Oscar and Lando are quick to make a outro, wrapping up the video. After talking with the media team and Lando, me and Oscar get back into his car making our way home.
“Thank you for inviting me today baby” I say, looking over at Oscar who is focusing on the road.
“It’s alright, plus I needed someone to put up with Lando so thank you!” Pulling up to a red light, Oscar takes my hand and kisses my knuckles gently.
-
Tag list - @ilovechickenwings @carlossainzwho @ipab @erikasurfer @soph1644
#formula one#formula one x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x y/n#lando norris#mclaren#mclaren racing#f1#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 2023
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27 / 1.7k / spreading rumors about dating Gaz, part 2
⬇ nsfw; mention of revenge porn
...
Gaz doesn't negotiate. He doesn't back down. When the situation calls for it, he knows when it's time to escalate.
That's why he fucks you on your dining room table instead of a public bathroom. Partly because he's not a slag. The idea of you possibly agreeing to do it--of giving him the same ammunition you gave your ex to humiliate you--leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Even if you started rumors and risked his reputation.
A growl rises in his throat at the thought of your ex having the gall to send him that video of you. Christ. What on Earth did you see in him?
Partly, though, he wants to fuck you in your own house so that when he next sees your prat of an ex-boyfriend, he can properly rub it in that fucker's face that you invited him in on the first date.
Or maybe he'll take a picture of your panties in his teeth. He hasn't decided yet.
You're strung out with pleasure, your bare back against the table. You’re caught between wondering why he wanted to fuck you after all and letting every last reservation about it vanish into nothing. You’ve always wanted this. You never thought it would happen.
"Sergeant," you gasp out. "Is this-- what about your reputation--?"
"Don't start." His fingers trail the lines of your body, his eyes fixed on the parts of you he caught only blurry glimpses of in your ex's video. It didn't do you justice.
He wants to pretend there's nothing to this besides convenience--you did owe him. Hell, you wanted to sleep with him. You always made that crystal clear. Now he's just allowing himself to give in to baser impulses like a dog snatching up a rabbit thrown into its path.
But you're right. This will look bad if someone finds out. He should worried, but it's hard to care about that when the thing competing for his attention is the filthy way your pussy swallows him again and again, seeing how slick you leave the base of his cock.
He should've used a condom. He knows for a fact you knew he didn't and you said nothing. He'd tell you off for it now, too, but he's absolutely certain it would just make you cum. The nerve of you.
His hips stutter for a second before he can banish that thought from his mind. He shouldn't like the idea of you being that obsessed. Acting like you'd do anything he asked. Christ, work would be a nightmare if this got out. Him actually sleeping with you. But then again, he suddenly doesn't much like the idea of you finding a different rebound. You'd just be thinking of him anyway, right? Wouldn’t you?
Whatever. He’ll deal with the fallout later. When he's not enjoying your body.
“Who’s going to know?” he murmurs, eyes falling to your chest. “Let it go.”
“Mkay,” you sigh out. There's nothing more you want than to please him right now.
"You'd do anything I asked, wouldn't you." It's not a question. You both know it's true. And he likes that--he hates admitting it, but he does. His eyes drop to your pussy again, and his hips pick up their pace.
You've spent months flirting with him, teasing him about taking you to bed. Now you're getting everything you want. He's right. Why would you care one goddamn second about the consequences? “Anything.”
He hates how needy you sound when you say that. You're too trusting. He's taking advantage of you. Don't you get that?
His grip on your hips tightens, pushing into you more and more roughly. Your moans rise in pitch and he has to grit his teeth.
“Good." He says lowly. "Then you won't tell a soul about this, will you?"
"But--ah, ngh..." You bite your lip as he stops thrusting and grinds himself into you. You gyrate your hips, needing friction. "But people already think we're together."
“Do they? That’s a bold claim.” You're overestimating how many people believe silly rumors. Besides, it's hardly your concern anymore. He lays his palms flat on the table on either side of you, bracing himself. Your skin is so soft; your neck tempts him, but he restrains himself. "You're keeping your mouth shut from now on, yeah?"
You let out a sound of frustration as he slows even further. You try to push your hips harder against his. "Sergeant, please!"
"You want this, don't you?" His voice is chilled, but the heat in his eyes as he stares down at your bucking hips is hardly discouraging. "You'll want it again. You'll keep wanting it."
"Ugh, yes," you snap, squeezing your thighs fruitlessly around his toned waist.
"As long as you don't tell a soul about this, I’ll see to it that you get what you want," he growls. "Not your team, your friends, your stupid ex. No one."
You open your mouth to question him again, but he pulls away and snaps his hips hard into yours. Whatever you were about to say dissolves into a string of semi-coherent affirmations. Yes, you'll keep it quiet. Yes, you'll pretend none of this ever happened. Yes, you'll never use his name on base again. Anything he wants. Just don't stop.
"Good girl. Good girl..." Easy enough. Now that he knows how to get his way with you, you shouldn't be such a problem anymore. He can’t help but be a little greedy, though. "You're not going to fuck anyone else, either."
"Never!"
He grunts in approval. "And you'll never--and I mean never --try to get back with your ex. Understand? You'll stay away from him."
You writhe and plead, winding your arms around his shoulders. He grabs your wrists and pins them to the table, the muscles in his arms taut.
"Do. You. Understand?" His voice comes down on you like low thunder, all around you.
"Yes!"
"Good. I'll know if you do. Mm…" His breathing grows shallow. Your heat is impossibly tight, and tightening up even more. He squeezes your wrists. "You going to cum?"
"C-Can I?" you breathe out. "Please, can I cum?"
His hips stutter and he has to close his eyes for a moment. God, he's never been tested like this.
"Sergeant, please!"
"Cum," he says, the word short and sharp like gunfire. "Cum on my cock. Right now."
He presses his thumb to your clit and you wail, clenching around him like you haven't cum in weeks. Your body rolls, practically convulses, your head knocking against your dining table as you arch up. He lets out a snarl, not slowing down despite how painfully tight you squeeze him.
Once you come down from the high, his pace never slowing, your swollen core twitches and spasms with overstimulation. You cry out, but you make yourself stay in place. You want to keep making him feel good. You want to make him feel better than he ever has.
"Cum inside me," you pant out. "I-I'm on birth control. You can-- please--"
"You're a liar," he growls through clenched teeth even as he picks up his pace.
"I promise," you plead. Even if you're a liar, and you are, you're not lying about this. God, you want him to do it so bad you can feel yourself clench up again at the thought.
You're teetering on the edge of another orgasm when he pulls out, spilling his load across your chest and stomach instead.
You clench down on nothing, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction even as your orgasm ebbs out of reach. You let your head fall back onto the table, your breathing heavy. You don't see his eyes running over you, deliberating.
"Sergeant?"
"Mm?"
"Do you maybe want my phone number?" Almost seems like a silly question. He has your address now anyway.
"Hm." He pulls away, picking up your discarded purse from the mess of clothes on the floor. He pulls out your phone and opens your texts, types in his number, and sends himself a quick message. Then he finds your conversation with your ex-boyfriend. His eyes narrow. The last texts exchanged were earlier tonight. And you started it. You told him you were out to dinner with someone else. Just to get a rise out of your ex. It obviously worked.
That's okay, he figures, opening the menu and blocking your ex's number. If there's one person he does want to know about this, it's that arsehole. Maybe now he'll stay away from you.
You sit up. "Kyle?"
His eyes meet yours, steady and unwavering. "Yeah?"
"Were you serious?"
"I was."
"Even about coming over again?"
"I mean every word I say.” He hands your phone back to you and begins to get dressed.
You watch him, grasping the edge of the table. "When will you be back?"
"My squad leaves on assignment tomorrow. Don't know how long it'll be." He zips up and grabs his t-shirt. "I'll text you."
"Right, right." You suppress a sigh. "Always got a job to do."
He slings his coat over his shoulder, then pauses. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't help but reach his hand out to your cheek. He runs the back of his finger over your jawline. Then he disguises the tender gesture by gripping your chin and pulling it up so you're looking him in the eye.
"Behave," he tells you, voice low. "No sleeping around. No flirting of any kind. Is that clear?"
Your heart pounds. You swallow and nod.
"Good," he says, holding your gaze a moment longer.
As he leaves, closing the door behind him, he curses himself.
This is not a good idea. What's he trying to do, fix you? Stupid, stupid, stupid. This isn't going to end well. You're not good for him. But damn if he doesn't feel more satisfied than he has in years.
He has no choice. If he wants you to behave, he'll have to keep your eyes on him. Whether he’s on base or not.
...
part 1 / [part 2]
more Gaz / masterlist tag
#mine#story#fem reader#soft dom gaz#kyle gaz garrick#gaz#gaz cod#kyle garrick#gaz Garrick#cod#cod x reader#call of duty#call of duty x reader#cod mw2#cod mwii#tf 141#tf 141 x reader#gaz smut#gaz x reader smut#cod smut
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[ SUBJECT INTERVIEW: ÍVARR ]
NICKNAME:
NOT "Gramps". Not for you, anyway. Just my name.
GENDER:
Male.
STAR SIGN:
Why, checking if we’d match? Hah. Was told I’m a Scorpio. 'That check out?
HEIGHT:
With platforms or without?
ORIENTATION:
If we vibe, nothing else matters. An incubus with neat taste in personalities, I guess.
NATIONALITY / ETHNICITY:
So, some Scandinavian blood in me - half, actually. Can speak the language, too - 'least something neat daddy gave me, not that the fucker's outdone himself in parenting. Mom’s an American, born in Badlands. Ever heard of her clan? Messed with witchcraft a lot, and summoning even more. Know what I’m getting at? A perfect fuckin' match, weren't they?
FAVE FRUIT:
- Yeah no. Don't even start with anything citrus. Especially don't peel this shit in front of me, alright? Nasty shit.
[Interviewer]:
- Just wondering, how do you feel about cardboard boxes?
[Ívarr] :
- Ain't purring for you, man. But nice one.
FAVE SEASON:
Fuck summer. You ever felt what's that like - the real winter nights? Pitch fuckin' dark - quiet so thick you hear the snow falling. First time I saw those snowflakes as a kid - can swear I thought they were bees.
FAVE FLOWER:
Cherry blossoms? The fuck I know, man. Ask my mainline, I grab whatever he likes.
FAVE SCENT:
Expecting me to be like - "Muahaha, the smell of fear"? Seriously, it's apparently a pheromone released in your sweat or some shit. C'mon I'm joking, it isn't my fav - keeps stinking up this damn city. Alright, a freshly baked cake is something I'd kill for.
COFFEE, TEA, HOT CHOCOLATE:
Yeah coffee I guess? Rich, strong, black, with a splash of something fun, make it whiskey.
AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP:
Woke up just yesterday 'cause my mainline was pulling back my eyelid, imagine? Scared the fuck out of him, no seriously, can sleep through a fuckin' bomb and I'm not joking. Average hours - a shitton honestly? That's how I got my very first cat - Dad got enough of me breaking down every single morning, cause fuck mornings. And he'd be like - this is Snowy, she's gonna live with us and she already had her breakfast, so get the fuck up.
How'd I argue with Snowy? You don't mess with Snowy.
DOG OR CAT PERSON:
See? Check it out - cat fur. Here too. I'm claimed, man - gave up cleaning it up a long time ago. Not to be dramatic, but if there's anything human in me left - it's for them. Fur kids, all mine, what can I say. Two of them adopted - and you bet each of them has a bigger personality than an average gonk.
DREAM TRIP:
Dream trip, jeez... Somewhere not fucking hot?
FAVE FICTIONAL CHARACTER:
Balrog has style, y'know? Gotta be honest, I feel for the dude. Imagine yourself sleeping deep within the mountains for thousands of years to get awoken by a bunch of motherfuckers? I'd go nuclear too.
And this one too, ehh you know GoT? The Targaryen, her, yeah. Burn them all, girl. Boss move.
NUMBER OF BLANKETS YOU SLEEP WITH:
Man, your questions. I dunno, a half? With my ass covered, or not at all. Bed king sized, lights out, make it pitch black with the window open and you got me passed out.
RANDOM FACT:
One doesn't have to actually summon a demon to get them to come play, d'you know? There's one watching you through my eyes right fuckin' now. Should I introduce him?
Late to the party, but I remember many of y'all have more than one OC or just created new pixel babies that haven't participated yet, so I'm tagging (with no pressure):
@therealnightcity @wraithsoutlaws @sammysilverdyne @theviridianbunny @th3irin
@a-pirate @chessalein @halkuonn @luvwich @shimmer-like-agirl
@kdval @cybersteal @cyberholic77 @chevvy-yates @morganlefaye79
@anxious--ace @mhbcaps @wormskul @silver-samurai @androgymess
@winkyblinkyandstew @astarionhistears @valsilverhand @drunkchasind @themermaidriot
@pinkyjulien @skelior @medtech-mara @lokiina @timaeusterrored
@tokyofuturnoir @aggravateddurian @sifofasgard @elfjpeg @aurorartz
@lucky38-2077 @dustymagpie @gloryride @stannussy and anyone else who wants to! Also pls DM me if you don't wanna get tagged🖤
#dreamskug: gifs#oc: ivarr#cyberpunk#cyberpunk 2077#cyborg#men#scifi#futuristic#cybercore#gifs#cyberpunk aesthetic#gaming edit#scifiart#cyberpunk art#original character#male v monday#male v#cyberpunk2077#ivarr: lore#cyberwave#dreamskug: virtual art#cyberpunkedit#demon#demon oc#scifiedit#scifi art
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I'm All Yours (Mason Mount x Fem!Reader) 🔞
WC: 1.2K
Warnings: SMUT, oral sex (m receiving), curse and vulgar words. MINORS DNI
A/N: i think we all know why i wrote this one 🫣🤭 this was meant to be a fluff but somehow i started to write smutty lines and there was no turning back lmao blame mason. yes this is short, not proofread and i'm not good at writing smut btw so apologies in advance if this isn't decent 🫣 tho i hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 🫶🏻 apologies for any errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍
–
After 5 weeks out because of the injury he picked up at the Spurs game in August, Mason was finally back on the field for a game against Crystal Palace for the EFL Cup. Throughout the recovery process, he was very determined to heal and get better than before because he didn’t like being away from the pitch for so long. All he wants is to give the new club and the fans the best performance – and getting injured was really upsetting for him, but he didn’t want to let it mess with his head. During his comeback game, he played really well during the first half before getting subbed off – he even did an assist from a corner kick which was perfectly finished by Casemiro with a header goal. Watching how he had gained his confidence back after injury and got to prove that he is a deserving addition to the team – unlike what some people said – made you feel even prouder than you’ve ever been of him.
When he went home after the game, he couldn’t stop telling you how good it felt to go back and win. He was also very happy he was able to make an assist, though he is now aiming for at least one goal for the next game.
“You know, Mase, the fans were very happy with how you played,” you told him with pride, “I’m delighted that you’re back, you were amazing.”
“Thank you, my love, I’ll keep trying to deliver. I’m going to give the best I can. For the fans, and most importantly you.” He smiled.
–
Little did the fans know, he had an advertisement video with Nike Underwear – which had been prepared from a while ago – and now ready to be posted. After the incredible game he just had the day before, uploading the video felt like perfectly timed to treat his fans.
You weren’t present on the set when Mason and the Nike team shot the video, but you saw the pictures he had on his phone – for your benefit, he said teasingly. Since the first time he showed you those pictures, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of his phone. You slowly and carefully checked them out one by one, zoomed them in and out because you didn’t want to miss every little detail.
“Fuck…” you panted.
“Mason… These are… Insanely hot.”
He was sitting next to you and noticed how your pupils were dilated, your breathing became heavy, and how you kept biting your lip – you were basically drooling over his pictures and he was really satisfied by your reaction.
“Uh, baby, you good?” He asked as he grinned cheekily.
“What?” You glanced at him for a second. “Oh, I...”
You couldn’t even finish your sentence. Those pictures just made you speechless – that man drove you crazy. And before you know it, you were feeling all hot and heavy and your pussy was dripping wet.
“Baby, I’m gonna need a minute…” You whimpered. “Now all that I think about is how bad I want to suck your dick and have your cum in my mouth. Thanks a lot, fucker.”
“Well…” he kissed your neck, then whispered in your ear, “I would very much love that.”
You looked at him and tried to make sure he really wanted you to give him a head. He assured you by unbuttoning his pants and pulled them down.
“Whenever you’re ready, Y/N.”
You kissed him on the lips and immediately kneeled between his legs and started by rubbing his massive bulge to build up the arousal. Mason still had his boxers on, and when you felt his bulge became harder, you gently pulled them down.
The second his boxers came off, his dick was already fully erect and you couldn’t wait to have it inside your mouth. You started by spat on his hard dick and stroked it up and down. As your hand moved all over his dick, he bit his lip and let out a few moans.
“Mmm… Fuck… That feels good…”
You kept stroking and gave his dick tight squeezes a few times too.
“Y/N… Stop teasing, please…” He growled.
“Tell me what you want now, baby.”
“I want my cock… Inside your fucking mouth…” He begged.
You began by licking his dick up and down for a short while, then swirling your tongue on the tip. His breath hitched – the way your tongue felt around the head made his heart pound and he was feeling all flushed. You dipped your tongue into his slit, and he clenched both his fists and thighs.
“Ohhh… F-f-fuck…” He panted.
With your hand still stroking, you slowly put his dick deep into your mouth. You started moving up and down at a slow pace, and gradually changed your pace. As you engulfed his dick within your sloppy mouth, he gripped your hair and you were making eye contact with him which he loves so much – he always thinks the eye contact made the action a lot sexier and he isn’t wrong.
“Don’t stop, baby…” He bit back a moan.
The faster and deeper you went, the more intense the waves of pleasure he had. When you moaned, he could feel the vibration coming from your throat and it gave a sexy touch.
“Y/N…” he murmured, “I’m fucking close…”
The moment you heard him you sucked faster than before and his body began to shiver. He squeezed his eyes shut, soaking the pleasure in.
“Yeah, cum in my mouth.”
“I’m about to cu- ohhh…”
Suddenly, time stopped ticking and his vision faded to black. An explosion of pure bliss just hit and left him breathless. At that moment, he filled your mouth with his cum for you to swallow.
He lied on the bed and was breathing heavily, unable to speak even a word.
“Good fuck, Y/N,” he exhaled, “that was amazing.”
You got up and smiled, now about to clean up. “Mmhmm.”
As you cleaned up, you playfully asked him, “Mase, have you eaten a lot of fruits lately?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I think I have. Tasted sweet, didn’t it?”
You licked your lips – which were still covered with his cum – and nodded in agreement. “Love it.”
–
When the advertisement video was ready, he showed it to you before it got uploaded.
“Woah, you’re going to post this with no warning?” You jokingly asked.
“Yeah, no… Why?” He was confused for a moment.
“Mase, you do know how people are going to react, right? You’re literally wearing nothing but underwear and they can see your bulge? They’re going to go crazy, my love.”
He finally understood why and chuckled.
“Oh baby… I surely don’t mind.” He winked.
“Ugh, please.” You playfully rolled your eyes.
“Hey, don’t worry,” he stood in front of you and gently lifted up your chin, “you are the only one who gets to see and experience the whole show whenever you want to.”
He gave you little kisses starting from your forehead, nose, cheeks then a big one on your lips.
“Just so you know,” he added, “I’m all yours, Y/N.”
You blushed and laughed when you heard him say what he said.
“Mmm… Lucky me.”
–
taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover
#mason mount#mason mount x fem!reader#mason mount x reader#mason mount imagines#mason mount fanfic#mason mount fic#mason mount one shot#mason mount smut#footballer imagines#footballer fanfic#footballer fic#footballer smut#footballer one shot
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for anyone else who needs comfort in the form of a sick fic. but written specially for @coloursofyen🩵
there for you
Jamie’s alarm goes off at precisely 3:26am, which is what he says is the optimal time to wake up for training with Roy. He rolls over and feels for your warm body on the other side of the bed, frowning when he feels nothing but the cold covers next to him. You’ve been out of bed for a while, then.
He sits up, and as he wipes the sleep from his eyes he notices a light coming from the en suite. Jamie hops out of bed and taps on the door.
“Babe? You alright?” he asks.
He’s met by a retching sound so he pushes open the door to find you kneeling in front of the toilet. Sweat makes strands of hair stick to your face, and your face is unnaturally pale. You blink blearily at him as he sits against the doorframe.
“I think I have a stomach bug,” you croak.
Jamie’s unable to stop a grin. “What makes you think that?”
You’re too tired and nauseous to flip him off. You’ve been awake for more than an hour, thinking first it might be something you ate.
Then you remembered one of your coworkers called out sick earlier in the week, followed by your supervisor two days later. Seems like it’s your turn now.
You manage to get out, “It’s going around the office,” before turning your face back to the bowl.
Jamie makes a sympathetic face and moves to rub your back.
“I’m gonna get you some water, babe. You want anything else? Crackers? Toast? I think we have shit for soup later today, if you think you can keep it down,” he says.
“Roy,” you say, sticking to easy words.
Jamie gently pats your back. “Nah, don’t worry about him. He’ll be glad to have the morning off.”
“You have a match on Sunday,” you remind him. “You can’t catch this.”
Jamie disregards this and presses a kiss to the side of your head. “The lads’ll be fine without me. Give some second-teamer a chance to be on the pitch. Besides, it’s against Bournemouth.”
You make a face. Bournemouth is at the bottom of the league, and at the moment a match against them is essentially free points.
“It feels awful,” you rasp.
Jamie readjusts his position on the floor. “Babe, I’m a fucking… specimen. I’m like, so fucking healthy that viruses bounce right off me. I’m not gonna catch it.”
You shake your head and retch again. That’s what you had thought.
“Let me text Coach,” Jamie says. “I’ll sit here as longs as you need, or I can grab a bowl so you can go back to bed. Actually, let’s go to the guest room while I change the sheets in here, yeah? All hygienic, like. I can make mum’s special soup, think we’ve got everything for it. Can order it if not. Just don’t worry about it, alright? Your body’s a temple, or whatever fucking Lasso says.”
You crack a half-smile at that. For as much as Jamie loves football, he loves you more. Only slightly more, but you’ll take it.
He says, “Come on, up you get,” and half-lifts you to a standing position. Once you’re settled in the guest bed with the tv on and a lime soda, he heads downstairs to figure out what you might be able to eat. He ends up bringing you toast, a banana, and a sleeve of crackers, then getting into bed next to you.
“Sheets are in the wash,” he says.
“Don’t get too close to me,” you warn. “You’re going to catch this fucking bug.”
“Won’t,” he responds smugly.
“Will,” you argue.
“Won’t,” he repeats with such confidence that you wish Roy were still coming over to smack him down a little bit.
Will, you silently mouth.
—
That fucker doesn’t even get so much as a sneeze.
#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt fanfiction#jamie tartt imagine#jamie tartt x y/n#jamie tartt x you#jamie tartt#ted lasso
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voicemails
frankie morales x f!reader
do we drabble on sundays? is this what we do? well, anyway, here’s some soft sunday fluff. no warnings: except fluff and sweetness and lovely softness. dedicated to @msjarvis who didn't ask for this but I’m giving anyway.
JUST THINKING ABOUT HOW THE TWO OF YOU BEGIN LEAVING VOICE NOTES FOR ONE ANOTHER. It started one time when life took one of you away from the other—the bed you share and the walls you laugh inside of are lonely without the pair of you together. Because it all feels vaster, quieter.
Then it became a thing. A make-do measure, a thing both of you grew to need first thing in the morning and last thing at night. A habit. A tradition. The day not beginning or ending without it.
It quickly becomes a comfort, a thing that brings the both of you joy, happiness—in the same way the scent of your shampoo does for him and how when he’s alone he leans closer to your pillow because it lingers and he consumes as much of it as he can to trick himself he’s not lay in bed alone.
Your voice in the morning makes up for the fact your mug isn’t left on the side or in the sink, all used. Because he hates it when he wakes and finds it in the cupboard, where he put it last night, it rumbling through him and making his chest clench.
There’s a list of things he misses when you’re not home, and if he begins, he isn’t sure he’ll ever stop.
Frankie supposes you’ll have your own list. An itinerary of things you miss about him when he’s out of town. Sometimes you share them, let them slip out and mumble them down the phone when you’re pacing, unsure what to do when he’s not home. It makes his heart squeeze in his chest, all tight, especially when he hears you doing mundane things he usually gets to watch you do, like cook or make a drink.
It’s why he likes the voice notes. Likes being a part of your day even if he’s not there. Has the chance to listen to them on his drive or when he’s brushing his teeth—pretending, even in hotel rooms—that you’re closer than you are. Staring at your contact photo as you say those three words, I miss you.
The voice notes range in topic. Sometimes they’re about your day, about the fucker you work with that he’d love to break the nose off; sometimes they’re a ramble about your breakfast, interspersed with a minor rant about something. Odd times they’re about dinner, hearing you move things in the refrigerator before you confess you’ll order and leave him leftovers.
He has his favourites, a handful of ones he’ll listen to on days where he needs more sunshine. One is the day you tripped, again, over his toolbox. An odd choice, he knows. It beginning all high-pitched, voice tinged in venom and anger:
“Francisco Morales, if you leave your toolbox in the hallway one more time—“
Then it was doused in sweetness, absolute honey, and it wasa exhilarating to fucking listen to.
“—Oh, you washed up. Oh, baby. Well, shit—Frankie, I love you okay? Just put your damn tools away.”
But the one he has saved is one where you’ve tired, exhausted—brain having kept you awake and every noise in the house doing something to make the shadows seem more dangerous than they were. You’re babbling, eyes likely closed, voice just reeling off the things your brain is thinking—no filter, no barrier between thought and tongue.
“—and baby, even though I’ve been sleeping in your clothes, I miss you. ‘Cause you make me happy—so happy, you know that? You have to. Tell you a lot. The bed does feel super weird without you. It’s really cold, and big—like too big. I turned the thermostat up, I know, I know, I’ll turn it down. Oh, and baby, I saw sprinkles moonwalk again on the fence. I did try to record it—but, you know me, I’m clumsy, chipped my phone. Don’t be mad. Please. I know you won’t cause you’re good, kind, nice—god you makemehappy. So tired. Justwanttosleep, you know?—“
He remembers driving back through the night the following day—slipping in, quiet as a mouse. Old training came in handy as he slid out of his boots and cautiously placed his keys.
Frankie managed to miss the floorboard he needs to fix, the one that usually gives him away—and even remembered to not use the light in the bathroom. His last test had been the bed, somehow managing to get in with precision, even roll you closer without waking you.
It’s worth it, all the time away—the voice notes in between—for the life he’s able to build with you and the look he wakes to in the morning.
A thing he thinks each time.
Because you look at him like he solved every problem wrong in your world; you look at him like he makes the impossible, possible.
And, after all he’s been through, he’d been sure that ship had more than sailed. That his chance had gone, faded, slipped through his fingers like water or dust.
But here you are. Your voice filling his ear in real time, whispering a good morning, if he had a safe drive—and he’s full of gratitude all over again. As he is every time he gets to hear your voice—in person or through the phone.
an: sometimes, voice notes are just the best, right? I also love voice mails, and all voice related things.
#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales x you#francisco morales x reader#francisco morales fanfiction#Francisco catfish morales x reader#francisco morales x you#frankie morales x f!reader#triple frontier fanfiction
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Ok, so this is a post that I should have made sooner. I've been somewhat out of the loop with regards to current events and the state of discourse on this website courtesy of a pretty serious depressive episode from which I am only just now recovering. As I have emerged from this state I have been pushed towards a conclusion about this website and the state of discussion around the ongoing Israel-Gaza War that I had thus far avoided due in part to my barely possessing the energy to keep myself alive and due in part to my denial that the conclusion could be true. But that denial can no longer hold.
It has become openly apparent that the pro-Palestinian camp on this website has become popularly infused with a degree of blatant, aggressive antisemitism that I, in my naivety thought impossible in the days just after October 7. I am trying to avoid turning this into a mea culpa because that would be unproductive and feel self-serving, but I do feel an obligation to admit that I disregarded prescient warnings from Jewish users whose warnings I dismissed as over-blowing a problem that I felt was real, but more limited in scope than they made out.
I'm neither an idiot nor am I ignorant. I am well aware of the long history of antisemitism in leftist politics and in the Palestinian Liberation movement. Back at the beginning of this crisis I was prepared to see the occasional instance of antisemites using the inevitable, overwhelming Israeli retaliation as an excuse to air their hateful politics. I was prepared to see both the well-meaning but ignorant and the malicious alike sharing tweets from antisemitic pro-Palestine accounts, spreading and normalizing low-grade, subtle antisemitism. Make no mistake, this should have been condemned. Antisemitism, like all bigotries, has no 'safe' level. There is no background level of antisemitism that society should just accept as normal. But I was more focused on the inevitable cacophony of suffering that Israel would almost certainly begin meting out, and so I failed to act.
The fatal blow to my denial was the increasing prevalence of the use of quotation marks around the word "Israel" and "Israeli". The first few times I saw this, I didn't really understand what it meant. Still laboring under the belief that antisemitism was a manageable problem on the left, I was certain that most of the users on this site, well-intentioned, goodhearted, critically thinking people that they were, would have recognized and called out even disguised antisemitism before it took over a good 20-40% of all posts about the conflict. I was a damn naive fool. For those, like past me, who have not cottoned on to the meaning of the quotation marks, they have become a way to express the denial of the legitimacy or even existence of, individually or all together, the State of Israel, the Israeli people, or the right of either Jews or Israelis to identify as Israelis.
CONGRATULATIONS TUMBLR! You have successfully revived from depths of 4chan neo-Nazi boards the (((fucking echoes))).
Are you serious? Are you fuckers for real? This, right here, encapsulates the pitch-black absurdity of this whole situation and why I remained in denial for so long. Never, in a million years, would I imagine that the proudly pro-Social Justice, anti-fascist, 100% Certified SAFE-SPACE(tm) website would end up using the same language as the goddamn Nazis on 4chan. I thought this website was smarter than that. But noooo, it turns out that I was a damn naive fool.
This was where the post was originally going to end. I say my piece, hope to change a few minds, and commit myself to actually fighting antisemitism instead of sitting back and dismissing the problem. But I figure, while I'm here and while I still have the driving forces of anger and guilt pushing me along, I may as well put pen to paper and spew forth my other thoughts on the ongoing crisis. I am thus compiling a much longer post detailing my thoughts on some aspects of the current situation. [EDITED ~1:25 AM GMT, 5 Dec 2023: add link to finished post] That post will definitely be long, probably be angry, possibly wrong on some aspect of fact, and will absolutely be pretentious, preachy, self-righteous and hubristic to a positively Hellenistic degree. Brief, non-comprehensive summary so you can decide whether or not get mad at me ahead of time;
Israel does apartheid, or near enough for government work.
Israel is definitely conducting a campaign of forced displacement, possibly amounting to ethnic cleansing, but I remain unconvinced of the claim of genocide.
Hamas may or may not be a anti-colonialist revolutionary group, but it definitely is an antisemitic terrorist organization with genocidal aspirations and actively supporting them is morally indefensible. Yes, this includes the Al-Qassam Brigades.
Anti-colonial and other revolutionary movements do in fact have fundamental moral obligations and suffering oppression does not give you carte blanche to do terrorism, even when an oppressor attempts to render peaceful opposition impossible. There is a middle ground between peaceful marching and 850+ dead civilians; aim for that.
The left is just as prone to unhinged conspiracism as the right.
Verify your sources, for fuck's sake.
Use nuance. It won't kill you.
There's more, but it's a little difficult to summarize an unfinished post. If you want to argue with any of these points, go ahead, just keep in mind that a longer, more comprehensive post is in the works that might have the answer to your argument/complaint/insult/intellectual disagreement. If that post isn't up by midnight GMT on Friday, assume I forgot about it and argue away. In conclusion, antisemitism is bad, apartheid is also bad, Tumblr is a hellsite (derogatory), "From the river to the sea" is, in fact, antisemitic, seriously, stop saying it, take Jews seriously when they warn you about antisemitism instead of writing them off like a damn naive fool, and last but not least, free Palestine.
#antisemitism#israel gaza war#israel#palestine#fuck hamas#politics#leftism#free palestine#israel palestine conflict#misinformation#here goes nothing#kicking the hornet's nest
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Plushies!Drabble: Sweet Kitten
(18+ ONLY)
- - - -
Plushie!Joel sleeping on his belly with his Kitty squishmellow as his secondary pillow, all buried under his nose. And he sniffles a little and wakes up, inhaling it more deeply. Eyes go wide. He recognizes an instant problem.
You wake up to frantic pounding on your door at 3:40am. Rubbing your eyes, you saunter over and turn the knob, only for Joel to rush in, pick you up and carry you like its nothing over to your bed.
"What the f--"
You're barely awake enough to resist his hungry kisses, rubbing his thigh thigh between your legs and nudging your clit with his knee. His mouth devours yours, licking and biting along your neck and groping your tits under your sleep shirt, HIS shirt he likes that you sleep in.
It's not until you start moaning under his touch, and rubbing your cunt against him that he finally pants, "You wet for me baby?" While nipping your lobe.
You nod, shivering with arousal. A little more awake and ready for Joel to soothe the achy problem he's now created deep in your puss--
He's tossing you on the bed in the blink of an eye, grabbing something large that had been protruding out of his back pocket and shoves its plush softness between your thighs.
"Good. Get ta grindin'."
It's Joel's Kitty plush.
You're a little confused, but he doesn't have time for your thoughts as he's fisting it into your wet naked mound and rubbing it along your folds.
"Cmon, angel. Know you can soak it with ya little kitty puss puss." He keeps licking along your chest. There's something a little desperate in his eyes, a little agitated in his voice. And you now realize, with his tongue biting between his teeth while obsessively watching your little folds part and your nub catch along the soft fluff, that he just wanted to get you riled up so you could add a fresh coat of pussy slick to his Kitty plush that had been lacking your scent for some time.
Horny, tired, a little too unbothered to scold him, you get on your knees and start humping the plush again, with Joel holding your hands. He's whispering praises like "fuck, look so pretty rubbing that slutty little cunt all over Kitty like that." "Such a sweet pussy, can't wait to lick it all up." "Give daddy all your naughty juices, I want you to soak that little fucker up" "You could piss on this and I'd still take it, just wanna stain your scent on my Kitty forever."
His eyes watch the entire time, transfixed as the plush slowly darkens from wetness with each rock of your hips.
Eventually your little high pitch whimpers lead way to your orgasm, falling forward and clutching Joel's big strong form for dear life as you spasm on your Kitty plushie, rubbing your slick all over its face with little aftershock rolls of your hips.
"Good girl, fuck yeah, that's it, keep gushin'. My good little slutty girl."
It's all over so quickly. He grabs the Kitty, shoves it in his face and inhales the wet patch on its fur, grunting satisfactorily. He collapses forward on your bed and almost instantly falls alseep as your pussy juice and Kitty's plush suffocate him.
Left abandoned, your clit twitches, legs spread with a slight sticky mess, wondering what the fuck that was about.
Permanent Taglist:
- - - -
Series masterlist
@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96
#pedro pascal smut#joel miller fan fiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#last of us fanfiction#last of us smut#joel miller fic#plushies!joel
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it’s what the people deserve
@steddieas-shegoes said i owed her and @wormdebut some smut as payment for subjecting them to @steddiemicrofic angst, so here ya go, ya nasties (affectionate). an absolutely feral little rewrite i did forever ago where eddie replaces nancy in the s1 post-swimming sex scene. rated e, obviously, minors go away
-
“Ow!” Steve winces, wrenching back from the kiss. His fingers reach up to touch the wound. “Munson, what the fuck?”
Eddie did that. Bit his lip until he bled.
He grins and swings a leg over Steve’s lap, shoving him down onto the bed. Steve looks up at him through long lashes, tries to look haughty despite the blush blooming across his cheeks. Eddie leans in and licks a hot stripe up the side of his neck.
Steve makes a disgusted noise in the back of his throat, but his hips jerk all the same.
“Thought you were gonna just lure me up here and pull all your King Steve moves on me, huh?” Eddie teases, sucking a bruise into the spot behind Steve’s ear. “You want to bet I can guess all your little tricks? Bet I know exactly how it goes when you get all those cute, breakable girls in your bed. Let’s see…”
He shifts in Steve’s lap, wiggling further down. Peppering gentle kisses to the underside of Steve’s jaw.
“You probably start off real soft and sweet with them, don’t you? Get ‘em all nice and relaxed ‘til they’re moaning pretty in your ear.”
He reaches down, grabs both of Steve’s hands and brings them up to either side of Steve’s head, pressing them into the mattress and interlocking their fingers. Steve’s chest heaves under him, eyes wide and dreamy beneath those long lashes, his lips full and flush. Just waiting for Eddie’s tongue to slide back in.
Eddie holds back. Hovers with his mouth just over Steve’s. “Bet you say stupidly sincere shit to them, too, don’t you? Bet you say the dumbest stuff. ‘God, you’re so beautiful,’” he mocks on a breathy moan.
Steve’s eyes flutter shut.
“Go on,” Eddie goads as he grinds his hips down, lines their hard-ons up between them; pressing through the thin fabric of his borrowed sweatpants, oh, fuck. “Tell me what the girls say to that.”
Steve bucks up into him with a long, low groan, his head tipped back. Eddie bites at his adams apple.
“They don’t— unh— they don’t say anything,” Steve whines, wrapping a leg around Eddie’s hip to pull him closer, rolling up into him in a slow, filthy circle. Eddie squeezes Steve’s hands, feels his cock twitch in his pants. Christ, he’s leaking so fucking much.
“They’d be- be too into it to think,” Steve says, and he’s moving faster now, rubbing Eddie’s cock into the growing wet spot between them. “They’d just say please.”
It’s the ‘please’ that does it. Steve says it on a broken moan — a whimper, high-pitched and filled with such need that Eddie cums in his pants. Right then and there; his whole body stiffens as his hips jolt under Steve’s bent leg, and he buries his face into Steve’s neck with an embarrassed sound.
“Oh, my— oh, my fucking god,” Steve laughs. Like, really laughs, his shoulders shaking under Eddie’s weight, and when Eddie looks up his smile is all teeth and tongue, his eyes squeezed shut. “Oh, my god, you actually just came in your pants.”
“Shut up! Shut the fuck up,” Eddie hisses, scrambling to clap a hand over Steve’s mouth. Steve just bites it, digs his teeth into the meat of Eddie’s palm until he yelps and pulls away; payback for earlier, and Steve doesn’t look sorry at all as he lifts his head to lick the wound.
“You’re a feral little fucker,” Eddie huffs, hiding in the bend of Steve’s neck again.
“Oh?” Steve asks. He slides his hand down between them, squeezes Eddie’s wet dick in his wet pants. Like rubbing a dog’s nose in a piss stain on the new carpet. “And you’re not?”
“Fuck off, holy shit.”
“Mm,” Steve murmurs, “I’d rather fuck you.”
He sits up then, flipping their positions so Eddie’s laid out beneath him, his spent dick twitching in the cooling mess in his pants. “Guess I’ll have to, anyway. You know. Since you’re already out of commission.”
#feral demon 4 feral demon hours#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie#steddie smut#steddie fic#steddie drabble#steddie au
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