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fatehbaz · 11 months

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Good question:

In the United States, many jails and prisons can and will charge you money for every single night that you spend imprisoned, for the entire duration of your incarceration, as if you were being billed for staying at a hotel. Even if you are incarcerated for years. Adding up to tens of thousands of dollars. What happens when you’re released?

In response to this:

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So.

You’re getting charged, like, ten dollars every time you even submit a request form to possibly be seen by a doctor or dentist.

You’re getting charged maybe five dollars for ten minutes on the phone.

Any time a friend or family tries to send you like five dollars so that you can buy some toothpaste or lotion, or maybe a snack from the commissary since you’re diabetic and the “meals” have left you malnourished, maybe half of that money gets taken as a “service fee” by the corporate contractor that the prison uses to manage your pre-paid debit card. So you’re already losing money every day just by being there.

What happens if you can’t pay?

In some places, after serving just a couple of years for drugs charges, almost 20 years after being released, the state can still hunt you down for over $80,000 that you “owe” as if it were a per-night room-and-board accommodations charge, like this recent highly-publicized case in Connecticut:

Excerpt:

Two decades after her release from prison, [TB] feels she is still being punished. When her mother died two years ago, the state of Connecticut put a lien on the Stamford home she and her siblings inherited. It said she owed $83,762 to cover the cost of her 2 1/2 year imprisonment for drug crimes. [...] “I’m about to be homeless,” said [TB], 58, who in March [2022] became the lead plaintiff in a lawsuit challenging the state law that charges prisoners $249 a day for the cost of their incarceration. [...] All but two states have so-called “pay-to-stay” laws that make prisoners pay for their time behind bars [...]. Critics say it’s an unfair second penalty that hinders rehabilitation by putting former inmates in debt for life. Efforts have been underway in some places to scale back or eliminate such policies. Two states — Illinois and New Hampshire — have repealed their laws since 2019. [...] Pay-to-stay laws were put into place in many areas during the tough-on-crime era of the 1980s and ’90s, said Brittany Friedman, an assistant professor of sociology at University of Southern California who is leading a study of the practice. [...] Connecticut used to collect prison debt by attaching an automatic lien to every inmate, claiming half of any financial windfall they might receive for up to 20 years after they are released from prison [...].

Text by: Pat Eaton-Robb. “At $249 per day, prison stays leave ex-inmates deep in debt.” AP News / The Associated Press. 27 August 2022.

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Look at this:

To help her son, Cindy started depositing between $50 to $100 a week into Matthew’s account, money he could use to buy food from the prison commissary, such as packaged ramen noodles, cookies, or peanut butter and jelly to make sandwiches. Cindy said sending that money wasn’t necessarily an expense she could afford. “No one can,” she said. So far in the past month, she estimates she sent Matthew close to $300. But in reality, he only received half of that amount. The balance goes straight to the prison to pay off the $1,000 in “rent” that the prison charged Matthew for his prior incarceration. [...] A PA Post examination of six county budgets (Crawford, Dauphin, Lebanon, Lehigh, Venango and Indiana) showed that those counties’ prisons have collected more than $15 million from inmates — almost half is for daily room and board fees that are meant to cover at least a portion of the costs with housing and food. Prisoners who don’t work are still expected to pay. If they don’t, their bills are sent to collections agencies, which can report the debts to credit bureaus. [...] Between 2014 and 2017, the Indiana County Prison — which has an average inmate population of 87 people — collected nearly $3 million from its prisoners. In the past five years, Lebanon’s jail collected just over $2 million in housing and processing fees.

Text by: Joseph Darius Jaafari. “Paying rent to your jailers: Inmates are billed millions of dollars for their stays in Pa. prisons.” WHYY (PBS). 10 December 2019. Originally published at PA Post.

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Pay-to-stay, the practice of charging people to pay for their own jail or prison confinement, is being enforced unfairly by using criminal, civil and administrative law, according to a new Rutgers University-New Brunswick led study. The study [...] finds that charging pay-to-stay fees is triggered by criminal justice contact but possible due to the co-opting of civil and administrative institutions, like social service agencies and state treasuries that oversee benefits, which are outside the realm of criminal justice. “A person can be charged $20 to $80 a day for their incarceration,” said author Brittany Friedman, an assistant professor of sociology and a faculty affiliate of Rutgers' criminal justice program. “That per diem rate can lead to hundreds of thousands of dollars in fees when a person gets out of prison. To recoup fees, states use civil means such as lawsuits and wage garnishment against currently and formerly incarcerated people, and regularly use administrative means such as seizing employment pensions, tax refunds and public benefits to satisfy the debt.” [...] Civil penalties are enacted on family members if the defendant cannot pay and in states such as Florida, Nevada and Idaho can occur even after the original defendant is deceased. [...]

Text by: Megan Schumann. “States Unfairly Burdening Incarcerated People With “Pay-to-Stay” Fees.” Rutgers press release. 20 November 2020.

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So, to pay for your own imprisonment, states can:

-- hunt you down for decades (track you down 20 years later, charge you tens of thousands of dollars, and take your house away)

-- put a lien on your vehicle, house

-- garnish your paycheck/wages

-- seize your tax refund

-- send collections agencies after you

-- take your public assistance benefits

-- sue you in civil court

-- take money from your family even after you’re dead

#abolition

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popamolly · 2 months

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៸៸ ﹟YOU’RE A PERVERT!

HAZBIN HOTEL CHARACTERS and perverted/kinky acts they love to do.

characters. Charlie, Lute, Husk, Alastor, Lucifer, Vox, Valentino, Adam

warnings. fem!reader, vouyerism, vibrator, dildo, Valentino exists, dacryphilia, kinky stuff, smut, 18+ minors dni, degradation, praise if you squint

author’s note. should i have written for sir pentious? are people even attracted to him? lmk. as well as for anymore characters you would like to see with this prompt, i could always make a part two. don’t forget that my ask box is still OPEN! make sure you read the rules before you submit anything. enjoy sinners <3

𖤐 MASTERLIST

CHARLIE loves your voice. If she had missed your call, which she usually never does unless she is extremely busy, you would always leave her a sweet voicemail. Voicemails that she keeps to masturbate to later. Charlie didn’t know exactly when it started but she did know that she couldn’t stop. The way her fingertips would glide across her sensitive folds and rub against her clit, she couldn’t help but let out a soft moan as she clutches her phone against her ear desperate to her your voicemail as if you were right there. She could imagine your face, your breath against her neck, and how your hands would move to please her. This was silly, Charlie knew that but whenever you two were separated she found that this was a way to feel closer to you. “I know you’re busy ruling Hell and whatnot Charlie, but I just wanted to check in on you! I’ve been running some errands but I should be home around—!” Your voice from the voicemail recording sounded as if you were right there, talking Charlie through it. Her fingers were working on herself faster because she was just so so close, “—anyways what do you want for dinner? I’ll call you back!” And if the voicemail ended before her sweet release, all she had to do was press replay.

HUSK likes to grope you whenever he gets the chance. You helping him clean glasses? Just a causal breast grab. You standing up on your tip toes to put away some alcohol on the top shelf? He’d squeeze your plump round ass. And Satan forbid you from bending down in front of him to pick something up. He just loved everything about you and he couldn’t keep his hands off. “Husk baby, can you hand me that whiskey bottle?” You asked sweetly, as you stood on a ladder. “Of course.” He grabbed your ass after handing you the alcohol. Could you blame him? It was practically on full display. Husk squeezed and kneaded the plump flesh with a stoic look in his face, as if what he was doing was simply a natural instinct, “Husk!”

ALASTOR would be the type to spy on you from the shadows of your hotel room while you play with yourself. Whether you knew he was there or not, Alastor enjoyed the sight of you fucking yourself with the toy he had gifted to you as a silly joke, but watching your greedy pussy suck in the dildo while moaning his name, maybe it wasn’t a joke after all. He felt his pants growing tight at the sight of you and he wanted nothing more than to pounce on you and fuck you senseless until your throat was raw from screaming the Radio Demon’s name but for now he would watch, “Go ahead, my little doe. Cum for me,” He’d whisper.

VOX would watch the videos he made of him fucking you on his big computer screens whenever he was bored. He didn’t need to jerk off to the sex tape when all he had to do was find wherever you were and fuck you where you stood, oh no, he just liked to watch the videos for fun. He liked seeing your tear stained face on the big screen, whimpering and begging for him to continue to fuck you harder— deeper. The close up of your pussy from the shaky camera video had him groaning. Your ass bounced back on him as he fucked you doggystyle, the lewd sounds of sex filling the room in such a way that it was nothing but a sweet melody in Vox’s ear. You were made for video and he wished he could share that with the world. “Vox! Come here! I have to show you something!” You called from the other room. Vox clicked out of the video with a satisfied smile, “Coming!”

VALENTINO likes to pleasure you in public with a vibrator. This kinky bastard gets off on you trying to hide and cover your moans whenever you are socializing with your coworkers. With the remote in hand that controls the intensity Valentino loves to toy with the buttons, turning it up and down teasingly just to see your legs shake and practically turn to jelly. He would edge you, denying your orgasm until you were both in his room alone but for now? Oh it was just fun watching you squirm. “Ah!” You would whimper, practically grinding yourself into Valentino’s lap while hiding your face in the crook of his neck just as Vox raises an eyebrow in question, stopping his explanation. To that Valentino waves his hand dismissively, “(Y/N), just isn’t feeling too well. Please continue.”

LUCIFER loves to steal your panties. He uses them whenever you aren’t home or out working at the Hotel with Charlie. The way he had gotten fixated on this was purely by accident and obviously your fault. He saw your panties next to his bed— tossed to the side and forgotten by a passionate night of love making no doubt and he couldn’t help but take a sniff or two. Then a deep inhale that had his eyes rolling into the back of his head and he hungrily licked the spot where your pussy would’ve been snug against the fabric. Before he knew it he had your panties wrapped around his aching cock to help him jerk off, and when he came, it was a lot. He was left whimpering, shaking, and bewildered on what he had just done but it was already too late. It became an addiction and now he steals your panties to jerk off. “Lulu, have you seen my underwear? the yellow lacey ones? I can’t seem to find them anywhere.” You ask. “Hmm? Maybe you misplaced them dear, did you check the wash?” Lucifer simply shrugs, looking away from you to continue reading his book. Little did you know that those exact panties were in his pocket right now.

ADAM would be the same as Alastor, only difference is he would sit in front of you while you play with yourself. He would have a front row seat to your shaking legs and dripping wet pussy, all the while making you beg for him. He loved to tease you, to see how far you were willing to go to prove to him that you needed him, “What was that baby? You said you need my massive cock inside you?” Adam would taunt, “I can’t hear you. Open your legs for me.” His fingertips parted your legs as you were getting too lost in the pleasure to keep them fully open. “Mm—! A-Adam! Please! I want you..!” You moaned, head thrown back against the plush pillows. “Oh yeah? Beg for me some more then, hm?”

LUTE loves to watch you choke on her strap on. There is just something about the way your glossy eyes looked up at her. Between that and the sound of you choking due to the tip hitting the back of your throat, it was enough for the Angel to want to do nothing but sinful acts to you all night. Lute would hold on to the back of your head and face fuck you, forcing your jaw to go slack and take everything she was giving you as your saliva escaped the corners of your mouth and dripped onto your breast and the floor. She would talk dirty to you in such a way that your pussy would begin to ache for her touch. “You like this plastic dick don’t you? That’s a good fucking whore, take it.”

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danielhowell · 15 days

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This Night: Paperback Edition!

Hello BRITISH FOLLOWERS and YES this is DISCRIMINATING

It is my ecstatic joy to announce that I have been given the highest honour an author could ever hope for — my book about how to sort your shit out (take control of your mental health) You Will Get Through This Night, is being rereleased in paperback on May 9th in the UK! It will never be lighter, cheaper or more flexible.

Look out for it in the hands of weary travellers standing listlessly in an airport WHSmith, about to lose their last glimmer of hope before this book instantly magically changes their life. This new edition of This Night features a new disturbingly optimistic and snazzy inverted cover design. It has new topics and chapters, new practical exercises you can do to make yourself feel better when you may need it - and a painfully sincere epilogue reflecting on the impact this book has had, and my gratitude for everyone that has read it. If you already read the hardback - this is a great update featuring even more tips and helpful breakdowns of why you have unhelpful breakdowns. If you are yet to read this book at all ...like... it's actually very useful. You might not think you have 'problems' but we all do, it's human nature. If you learn literally one interesting thing or tool to manage your own emotions from this book, is it worth buying to change your life forever? Just get it thank you okay that's it.

You can get this book anywhere BUT if you feel like supporting the nerd that wrote it, you can get en exclusive SIGNED copy only on the Daniel Howell Shop!

http://shop.danielhowell.com

Also to be nice, the publishers over at Harper Collins are doing a contest to win a FREE beautiful enamel pin just for submitting proof of purchase.

pin competition button →

Thank you to everyone, and I'll be yapping about this closer to release date with some exciting events and all the contractually obligated marketing and press you could dream of.

— Dan

#dan howell #this night #books #sexybadges #black and blue dress

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bunicate · 1 month

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omg congrats on pulling bladie!!! big brother blade lives on my mind ngl ik he loves to spoil his lil sister’s pussy the second his parents r outta the houseee ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི ₊˚ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 . blade x fem reader

warnings ꒱ྀི incest. brief anal. creampie. a litl bit of possessive bladie. he says some dubious things. just a smidge of jealousy. “little girl” usage. breeding mention. unedited ofkurs ﾉ wc ꒱ 1.4k ﾉ 18+ ﾉ if uncomfy pls scroll or block ^_^

muhehe tysm ! ! still trying to build him ! he’s far from perfect but at least he’s at home with me. yk I had 2 pull through nd write smthn icky for him but I did go in a tad bit different direction :<<

you feel it, regret pooling in the pit of your stomach like rocks settling at the bottom of a shallow lake. the beating of your heart stutters out of tandem with the batter of blades hips.

his firm hands anchor themselves on the softness of your lower back, dull nails digging into your skin like thorns.

he fucks you with such depravity, and your obnoxiously noisy cunt salivated in response to the familiar bump of his cock.

it was far too late for regrets, you knew it well, even as he’s buried himself to the hilt. your parents were a thing of the past, but there’s always the potential of subjecting an innocent passerby to the sight of your brother rubbing your tender insides with his cock.

despite your roused state, you're still capable of reason, though your brother seemed to have a complete disregard for it.

“b-bladie.”

it’s soft on his ears, polite, although honeyed with a subtle warning accompanied by the slow pulse of your cunt.

his cock twitches from your quiet plea. he’s close, and at this point, he knows better than to cross the line any further, but you were elusive to your own charms. how could he bury his urges when your round and soft butt continued to smack against his pelvis ? your cunt drooled each time he pulled out.

its such a sight for sore eyes, and somehow his gaze kept wandering to the tight rim above, making his breathing ragged— almost animalistic.

he’s seen all of you, sights no older brother should witness, but it didn’t stop him from wanting more.

it should terrify you, the lengths he goes to stake his claim over you. coming as close as threatening to breed you and keep you bound to him like a pet. predators would be wise to never cross the hunter, even they could sense the extent of his prowess.

blade purposefully keeps you out of his affairs, but you know he’s a fearsome warrior. he’s tall and slender and with each movement, his hulk of muscle flexes. he’s strong enough to drag your body up and down his member, serving as a stark reminder of the gap in strength.

blade's palms, rough from wielding his ancient sword, settled on both sides of your waist, steels its grip. his thumb presses against your back, and the tips of his fingers meet at your belly button.

he bounces you on his cock, using you like a doll factored for fucking. he lifted you repeatedly like you weighed nothing and all you could do was submit to his brutal pace.

blade bites his lip to prevent curses from escaping.

he feels . . . good, better than usual. your swollen pussy tugs on his length, drawing out the remnants of his willpower. the desire to cum and bury it in your womb causes blood to rush.

like you can sense the danger, you peer over your shoulder cautiously.

“you h-have to pull out . . y’can’t just cum inside, okay ?”

such a redundant conversation, and he pays it no mind.

what good would it be to do something so risky—so wrong, but for blade, it would be worth the peril.

he doesn’t acknowledge your admonition, instead pressing you further into the sheets, elongating the arch in your back.

“stay still.”

his hand collides with your backside and a startled gasp echoes. the apple of your ass cheek stings, while the damp release between your thighs becomes stickier.

the weight on the bed dips when your big brother lowers himself. his chest presses to your back when he fucks you again.

roaring slaps of moist flesh lie thick in the air. you’re soft, so fragile in his embrace that he could crush you like a dainty flower trampled from being hidden between shards of grass.

when blade feels that familiar tender pulse of your cunt signaling your finish, he painfully pulls out as per your whiny request. he utterly despised having to separate himself from you, but nonetheless, he obeys your wishes. sort of.

his cock stands tall and thick, cream dripping from the edge of his tip. your pussy is agape in front of him, but his eyes linger on the tight coil of your ass.

rough palms enclose in a tight fist around his shaft. he pumps his cock, staring daggers at the rim until his balls hang heavier.

he wanted to empty them, he wanted nothing more than to milk his cock using your sweet cunt, but the hunger that normally consumed him wanted something else for a change.

he slaps his tip against your puckered hole, humping the pretty flesh. his leaking head increasingly swells as the seconds pass by, turning bright pink. the hunter groans, and heaves, his sickening thoughts running rampant while he envisions himself filling up his little sister.

he’s no longer computing, his body moves on autopilot, and he’s wiping his glossy tip over your ass.

“hnn-! n-no more. not there bladie !”

you squeal. the sensation is new and foreign, and you find yourself torn between begging for more or scrambling away.

a growing smirk settles on his face, and you see a slither of his sharp teeth.

“you're mouthy today. maybe i should put my cock somewhere else instead.”

you tense when his tip probes your tight muscle again, rubbing it in circles. he was stimulating your ass, forcing your pussy to twitch out of neglect.

he mumbles to himself.

“such a brainless girl. i thought i made it clear that i take what i want.”

his orbital pools mimicking the color of blood narrow. he’s almost there, sloppily fucking the skin of your ass until the slippery head of his member breaches the tight ring. and then he snaps.

with a single, calculated thrust, relief rains down in waves. he buries his cock in all the way as streams of his cum spurt out, dressing your walls in milky webs.

it’s warm as it fills your insides and your mind becomes a foggy maze. instead of your big brother cumming inside your cunt, he emptied his load in your ass, and nothing but burgeoning heat swallows you up.

“thats it . . take what i give you.”

it’s hard to retain anything when his breath tickles the sides of your cheek and his pulsing sack mushes against your clit.

“no part of you is off limits, little girl.”

by now, you're writhing, and you can’t think about how full you felt. not when his words had you mewling out of shame and excitement.

blade makes sure to deliver a few more thrusts, just to be certain that he’s been thoroughly drained. his heart thrums against his chest, reminding him that he's real—you’re real, and that his cock is stretching his little sister’s ass.

his breathing becomes uneven, the exhales of air caressing the plains of your damp skin.

he lowers his head, his lips settling by the shell of your ear.

“soon . .”

long strands of his hair fall into place , resting on your own skin.

“i'll cum inside this tiny cunt and there's nothing you'll be able to do about it.”

a shiver runs down your spine. equal parts of fear and eagerness for that fateful day of promise.

when he pulls out, his seed drips from your opening down the length of your slit. both of his hands grab your ass cheeks to watch the cum nestle between your lower lips and spill on the already soiled sheets.

carefully he watches your cunt push out the remnants, watching it cascade in thick dollops.

“such greedy holes.”

you puff out your cheeks and move the stringy hairs from your face.

“stop it . . it’s so embarrassing when you say that .”

you attempt to kick him off, and of course it’s thwarted by his iron hold on you.

he presses a sloppy kiss on your asshole, uncaring of the mess coating your sensitive parts.

“eeeeeeeek -! you’re sooooooo gross, bladie ! get away from me !”

he spanks your ass to hush your outburst.

“shut up.”

he kisses you to silence more of your complaints. the faint taste of cum on his soft lips mingling against your spit - slicked ones.

he pulls away audibly, taking a calm breath.

“you're seeing jing yuan tomorrow.”

you raise an eyebrow at the sudden mention of the general.

your brother is nothing less of a maverick, only keeping you close and others at a less than reasonable distance.

jing yuan however complicated things. while they weren't as close, anymore you still made an effort to see him despite their soured relationship.

in his scarce free time when he wasn't resting, he taught you all sorts of things. he helped time escape you when boredom struck in blade's absence.

you nod stiffly, still skeptical at the hunter before you. you're wary of his intentions, but too stimulated to care.

blade's face betrays no emotion and so, you’re suddenly startled.

you gasp when his teeth nicks at your neck.

he sucks the skin for a few seconds and then kisses the spot he bruised. proud of his handiwork he pulls away to speak up once more. you can nearly hear his smugness.

“. . . send my regards to the general.”

#૮꒰ ๑´ତ `๑ ꒱ྀིა #blade x reader smut #blade x reader #blade x female reader #blade x you #blade x y/n #blade smut #hsr blade #yingxing x reader #yingxing x you #honkai smut #honaki star rail #hsr x reader #hsr smut #female reader #tw:incest

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crypticmedici · 2 years

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Soccer anime………… must…. Resist…..

#i keep seeing gifs leave me alone I have homework 😭#the last time I let soccer distract me I watch a charity match and ended up submitting an assignment late pls 😭😭#**watched #mars press release

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todaynewsonline · 2 years

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BTC price clings to $20K as US stocks lose the equivalent of 4 Bitcoin market caps

Bitcoin (BTC) briefly lost $20,000 support overnight into Sep. 14 after hot United States inflation sent risk assets crashing lower. BTC/USD 1-hour candle chart (Bitstamp). Source: TradingView Markets lose big in a bid to “fight the Fed” Data from Cointelegraph Markets Pro and TradingView followed BTC/USD as it hit lows of $19,870 on Bitstamp — its worst since Sep. 9. The move came amid a…

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freedomfireflies · 8 months

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Break Me*

Summary: An extra for Teach Me*

The one where Harry edges you into your subspace for the very first time.

Inspired by this request!!

Word Count: 2.5k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

“Again.”

You whine as Harry’s hand travels down the length of your stomach, his nails curling into your warm, sweaty flesh. “Har—”

“Again, Bee,” he murmurs from his place between your thighs, tongue darting out to drag through your pussy. The low and gentle vibrations of his deep voice send waves of pleasure directly to your cunt, reverberating through your clit until you nearly begin to cry. “Thought you promised to be my good girl, hm?”

You arch from the bed, arms straining against the rope that keep your wrists taut to the headboard. Keeping you from him. “I…I—”

He looks up. Soft green eyes now piercing right through you until your breath hitches, and you feel your chest just about cave in.

You know he’s right. Know you promised him. Swore on every star to behave. But that was before. Before he’d decided almost two and a half hours ago to edge you right to the brink of orgasm just to abandon you on that endless edge with no hope of getting down.

Or getting off.

“Come on,” he urges, pressing your thigh deep into the mattress to keep you spread and pliable. “Know you can do it, baby girl. Know you can. Been so good for me already. Come on.”

You peer down at him through damp lashes, the tears on your cheeks warm and glistening beneath the soft light of the lamp in the corner of the room. “H…”

His expression softens but the kisses to your cunt never cease, proving that this act of sympathy is all for show. “Say it, sweetie,” he whispers, lips trailing toward the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “What are you, hm?”

You inhale a greedy gasp for air, lashes fluttering shut as if to hide from him while you finally answer, “I’m…I’m yours. Only yours. Your fucktoy. Just…just a hole for you.”

The grin that splits his face is large and pleased, and you feel oddly relieved to have made him so proud.

“That’s right,” he agrees, squeezing the flesh of your waist in his hand. “My sweet little slut. Just a hole. Just a thing for me to use, yeah?”

You nod quickly, face turning toward your arm as though to hide from his amused gaze.

But he doesn’t like this, instead sitting up to take hold of your jaw and tug your attention back. “Uh-uh, Bee. None of that. Want you to be proud. Want you to be proud of the way you submit to me. Proud of your place beneath me."

You stumble over a soft sob, finally peering up at him with awe and admiration as the edge of his mouth quirks upward.

“You’re okay,” he says gently, thumbing at your tears before giving your throat a quick squeeze. “You’re okay, and you’re gonna behave for me like you promised. Isn’t that right?”

Again, you nod wordlessly. Watching with slight terror as he crawls back down your body and returns his focus to your cunt.

He loves to look at you. Loves to watch the way your body twitches or squirms. The way your clit becomes swollen and puffy, the way your pussy turns red and raw from his ministrations. The way you plead with him for release even though you know he’ll never offer it to you.

He reaches for the bullet vibrator that sits on the bed in wait, bringing it back into play as you whimper and attempt to close your legs in retaliation.

But his large body keeps them open, as does the pointed glare of warning that he shoots you before flicking the toy on.

Just the sound of the vibrations makes you whine, a chill traveling straight to your core as you begin to breathe a little quicker. Eyes locked on the weapon in his grasp.

You know what comes next. Know the pain and the pleasure that’ll be forced on you as you fight against your orgasm. Harry can be cruel, but you don’t imagine he’s ever been as cruel as he is today. With his unbreakable desire to ruin you.

The moment the tip of the vibrator comes in contact with your clit, you begin to cry, already too sensitive from the last round. Even without release, your body feels spent. Tortured and overstimulated. You don’t think you can take much more. Don’t think you have the strength to hold off the way he’s demanding you do.

“Shh,” he coos from below, attention zeroed in on the movement of the toy. The way it circles the aching nerves, the way it presses against them, deep into the bone. “You can take it, you’re okay.”

You want to believe him, but after everything else…you aren’t quite sure.

Depraved and desolate sounds fall from your mouth without pause. There’s no room for air in your lungs with the way you sough and sigh from the unforgiving touch of the machine.

He’s focused and unrelenting. Digging the tip deep into your flesh before dragging it through your pussy, using it to spread you open. It gets lost in your arousal, the silicone coated with your wetness as he circles your fluttering hole with glee.

“You’re so close, aren’t you, sweetie?” he purrs, shifting a bit closer to press a kiss to your clit.

You buck up and gasp his name, and that’s answer enough.

“Yeah?” He does it again before just barely slipping the vibrator inside. “No. Hold it.”

It’s the meanest thing he’s ever said to you, and the tears fall a little faster with every push of the toy into your cunt.

The feeling is indescribable. The way the pulsations echo throughout your entire nervous system, dragging you quicker toward the end than almost anything else has so far. You clench and unclench around the vibrator over and over and over. The low hum nearly driving you mad.

And it makes Harry so goddamn proud.

He chuckles rather sadistically, in the kind of entertained tone that forces a new wave of arousal to pool between your thighs while he fucks the toy into you.

“There you go,” he hums, rubbing circles into your thigh with his other hand. Perhaps in an attempt to soothe you, but all it does is remind you of what you can’t have. Him. “Bet it feels so good. Doesn’t it, baby girl? Feels so good to be used.”

“Harry,” you whine, wrists burning from the harsh friction of the rope against your skin. “Please…please—”

“Look at you,” he continues, ignoring your pleas. “So pretty, baby. All fucked out and ready. You like being easy, don’t you? Like being my easy little whore.”

“H—”

“Know you do. This pretty little pussy just begs for me, doesn’t she? Yeah? All I have to do is look at you and you’ll drip down to your ass for me.”

“God, please…please—”

“Look at me, baby girl. Want you to look at me. Want you to watch. Don’t be shy, lovie, come on. Know you fucking love it—”

“Harry, please—"

“No,” he says softly. Quietly. Refusing your attempt before you can even offer it. “No, sweetie. Gonna hold it. Gonna do what I asked.”

“I…I can’t,” you gasp, already feeling the seams unravel. “I can’t, H, please…please—”

“No,” he repeats, a touch more stern, shooting you a look of warning. “You promised, Bee. Promised to be my good girl.”

“Trying—” You manage through a strangled sob. “M’trying…can’t…can’t—”

"Yes, you can. Hold it, love. You fucking hold it. Do not cum."

"I'm...I...Daddy—"

He seems to understand before you do, hand tightening around your thigh as though to punish you before he’s tugging the toy from your spasming pussy.

But it’s too late. It hits you like a fucking freight train until your vision goes fuzzy and your heart nearly pummels out of your chest.

You don’t know how many times he’s edged you. You’ve lost count, but it catches up to you now as the release nearly blinds you, practically sending you into a second before the first is even finished.

Harry’s hand smacks down on your clit, the wet sound of skin on skin making you cry that much harder until your body nearly recoils away from him.

Your muscles ache from the way you’re straining, arms sore in every possible place as the rope keeps you stuck beneath him.

And it feels so good, but you can’t seem to stop the heaving of your lungs. Can’t seem to subdue the tears falling from your eye or the soft sounds of remorse that slip between your lips.

You’ve done the one thing he asked you not to do, and you tried so hard. You really did and you can’t understand why you came anyway. You shouldn’t have cum – he asked you not to cum, but you did. And you’d been doing so well. You’d been his good girl. And if you’d just held on a little longer…maybe he would have been good to you.

Now? Now he’s never going to touch you again. He’s going to send you to the guest room or make you sleep on the floor. He won’t cuddle you or kiss you or even look at you.

You can already see his disappointment, can already feel him taking himself away, and you begin to shake your head furiously.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you blubber, voice breaking on every syllable. “I’m sorry, Daddy, I’m sorry. I tried, I really tried, I promise I tried. I don’t…don’t know what happened, don’t…couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t, I tried. I tried, I’m sorry—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he murmurs, expression twisting into something that makes your gut wrench. “Baby girl…breathe. Breathe for me, okay? You’re okay—”

“No,” you wail, tucking your face behind your arm in an attempt to hide from him. “No, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—”

“Baby,” he exhales, and you feel his large palm slip around your jaw to force you back out, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “Hey, look at me. What happened, what’s going on?”

You stumble over a hiccup and peer up at him through wet lashes. “M’so sorry, Daddy. I tried, I promise. Please don’t be mad. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t—”

“Shh,” he murmurs quietly, dipping down to nudge his nose against yours. Taking a beat until he feels you suck in a wounded inhale. “I know, sweetie. I know. I pushed you really hard. I know you tried. Did so good for me.”

However, his sympathetic encouragement merely brings the tears back tenfold, and you begin to shake beneath him as you desperately search for more. More of his voice, more of his touch, more of his praise. It’s the only thing keeping you from falling apart.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper again, stomach rising and falling with each quick breath. “I’m sorry, Daddy—”

He frowns but it’s gentle. “I know, baby girl,” he says, thumb stroking the stained skin of your cheek. “I know, I’m not mad. Could never be mad at you. Ever. I’m proud of you. Did so well, sweetie. Did so fucking good for me.”

You nuzzle into his hand, lips pushed into a desolate pout as you try to kiss any part of him you can reach.

You hear him sigh, although you don’t look. You simply allow your eyes to fall shut as you bask in his glow.

“Bee,” he murmurs, using his other hand to squeeze your hip while his body comes to rest above yours. “Sweetie…did I break you? Did you slip? Did you slip away from Daddy?”

Truthfully, you aren’t sure what you’ve done or why you feel the way you do. But the sound of his question – even though quite odd – makes you feel sparkly. The deep cadence of his voice as soothing as the fingers dancing circles against your side.

You crack an eye open and find him. Taking note of the curiosity on his face and the slight upset attempting to weave into the furrowed skin of his forehead.

“I’m right here,” you say softly, desperately wanting to assure him that you haven’t left him.

He’s unconvinced. “You’re here,” he agrees, squeezing your leg with a nod before he moves his thumb to your temple, and taps it twice. “But are you here?”

You begin to frown, a little unsure what he might mean. “I’m here,” you repeat, a bit more pointedly. “With you.”

For a moment, he merely stares. The corner of his mouth dancing up into a delicate smile as he sighs and leans down to kiss you.

“With me,” he echoes, nipping at your bottom lip until you giggle. “Always with me.”

Feeling rather soothed, you settle beneath him, and allow him to map the expanse of your body with his mouth. He kisses your cheek, your jaw, your throat. The space below your ear, the curve of your shoulder, the valley between your breasts.

Then, he moves up. Trailing those kisses up your lifted arms, one after the other until he reaches your wrists.

He begins to untie them, flicking the knot undone until your hands fall to the pillow, and you release a grateful whimper.

You move to reach for him – desperate to feel his warm skin or the soft curls atop his head – but he’s already a step ahead.

He brings your fingers to his mouth and presses his lips to each knuckle. Over and over as you grin and watch with doe-eyed wonder.

He moves to your wrists. Gently trailing his ginger touch across the tender, red flesh that’s been rubbed raw. He’s so very good. Beautiful and sweet in the kind of way that makes your heart ache.

He runs his hand up and down your side, making sure to remind you that he’s close. He moves onto the mattress just beside you and curls his body toward yours.

In turn, you do the same. Snuggling into his chest, legs tangled with his, and face nuzzled against the butterfly on his stomach.

You hear him breathe out an amused laugh before he’s pressing his palm to your spine to keep you close. “Bee?”

You smile. “Yes, Daddy?”

His heart races against your lips. “Are you okay? Do you feel safe right now? You feel…you feel good?”

You glance up, lashes fluttering with surprise at the hesitant tone of voice. “Of course. I’m always safe with you.”

The relief in his expression nearly explodes across his face as he chews on the inside of his lip. “Yeah?”

You nod quickly. “Mhm. I’m so very happy.”

“Good,” he murmurs, seeming to fight against another grin. “That’s good, baby girl. I always wanna make you happy.”

You giggle again, grateful for his attention now more than ever. “I wanna make you happy, too. Don’t wanna make you mad by being a bad girl.”

You hear him chuckle before he reaches down to lift your head up. “I thought you liked being my bad girl?”

Your brows furrow. “…only when you say it’s okay.”

He smirks a little wider at this, and you wonder what he finds so funny. You’re telling the truth. You just want to do what he says. Just want to behave and make him proud.

“My silly girl,” he hums, landing a quick kiss to your forehead. “You’re always good. Even when you’re bad. Daddy likes you any way you are.”

And it feels as though your heart is going to burst out of your chest. This reassurance that you will always have his affection and care making your insides sparkle. “Promise?”

He nuzzles his nose against your temple.

“Promise, Bee.”

Previous Part:

~ Take Me*

~ Full Teach Me Masterlist

Amazing credit for the beautiful dividers to @firefly-graphics 💞

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @onlystylesss28 @winterrays @jessitpwk @aslugforharry @allthelovehes @straightnogayhs @adoringhrry @harrysxcarolina @lillefroe @avasversion @littlelunamoon @harrysgf01 @lexiecamposv @spinningoutwaiting4ya @hs-tpwkrry @vyctorya @b-reads-things @thiyaabs @buckybarnessimpp @whoreforjamesbuckybarnes @cherryluvhobi @mybabyh @xellybellyx @reneemunson @juliatpwk @wolfmoonmusic @buckyssbestgirl @wandasbae616 @imavirginhoe @nuggetdean @chubby-cheek-calum @itsmytimetoodream

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saturnsorbits · 7 days

Text

Thirst Trap: Caught Desperate

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Smut, Prone Bone, Spanking, Pictures - Consensual. Word Count: 4k.

Summary: Read the Intro -> Here.

A/N: Idek what the fuck this is. I've genuinely forgotten how to write - smut especially apparently.

-> Part of the 'Thirst Trap' Collab.

Make sure to check out the other incredibly talented authors through the link above and don’t forget to leave a nice comment and reblog if you liked their work!

The first thing he feels is panic.

His phone won't stop. It vibrates against his palm, stirring up a numbness that radiates through his callouses as the screen flickers. The near constant updates create a blur he can't follow, the dull flashes summoning a sharp edge to the headache that has already started to press at the sides of his skull.

Fuck. He sighs, digs a knuckle into the corner of his eye and brackets his hand across his forehead. His PR team might actually murder him for this one.

Prodding at his screen, he manages to slow the endless roll of his feed. The replies are positive, mostly. His fanbase isn't exactly small and, according to the last PR meeting he was forced to attend, they were also predominately women. Although, looking at his phone now, he'd say the divide was probably about 50:50.

Curiosity getting the best of him, he scrolls...

The first few replies he sees are simple enough: suggestive emoji's, notes of amusement, the odd heckle about the size of his cock. Then, there are the more fun ones: the ones calling him a slut, asking to give him more than just head or being up front with their solicitations.

Huffing out a breath, he unfurls, spreading out on the bed and stretching an arm up behind his head. His pants are still unbuckled and pulled to the broadest point of his hips, a casualty of his drunken state. Underneath, his cock presses against the denim – twitching with every mention of the things his fans plead to do to him.

He shouldn't.

He knows its wrong.

Knows that he shouldn't indulge himself.

He shouldn't be thinking about fucking his fist to the thought of an anonymous stranger drooling down his balls, his cock bulging from their cheek, holes stretched out around him as he rolls his hips searching for the thing inside of them that'll make them scream.

His hand cups his pec, broad palm circling gently until he can catch his nipple with each slow pass. It's surprising how quickly his cock catches on. He can feel it leaking, soaking through patches of his underwear as it begs to be released. Letting his hand slip down his body, he feels the tension shake in his abdomen. He's wound tight, muscles shivering even under his own touch as he sinks his hand into his jeans and finally, squeezes his cotton-clothed cock.

He should stop.

Fuck, he should just delete the tweet and get a glass of water.

… And maybe a cold shower.

Licking over his teeth, he's reluctant when he slips his hand back out of his jeans and slams it, somewhat sticky, against his sheets. His cock protests, throbbing with the new lack of friction after being granted so little. It makes it hard to focus, the rolling pit in his stomach, the pulsing of his body – even without his alcohol impairing his judgement, his desire pleads a strong case for him to simply submit.

Bakugo swallows and moves to swipe away from the possibly career-changing tweet on his screen, but the feed is faster than he is.

It isn't the message that catches his eye, not at first anyway. No. It's the username. Your username.

He clenches his jaw.

Immediately, you fill his senses. It had barely been a few hours since you'd had your arms wrapped around his neck, your bodies pressed together as you swayed on the dance floor. If he tried, he swears he'd still be able to feel the soft skin of your thigh grazing against his fingertips as his hand had found its way under the edge of your dress. Your perfume had been intoxicating. A subtle mix of vanilla bean, sandalwood and your sweat had drifted from your collarbones and infested his senses, luring him right to the edge of what he'd known would get him into a whole heap of shit.

That was before he'd made that fucking post, of course.

Now, he was starting to wonder if taking you home would have been the right move all along.

His promises be damned.

Chewing at his lip, he lifts his thumb, revealing the message attached to your name. 'Thought you said you weren't that desperate, huh.' His stomach lurches.

The memories come quick then, fighting through the fog of too many whiskey's and regret.

He'd meant it as a joke, he really had, something to give him some pace, to make you think twice, think of the consequences – but he's never been good at managing his tone and at almost midnight even his belligerence had felt semi-formal. You'd been too close, too pretty, with the promise of a night he wouldn't be able to forget laced between your teeth and he'd... Well, he'd done what he does best.

He'd pushed you away.

Your eyes shine in the dull lights outside of the club, the yellowing tinge spilling from the surrounding lamps doing nothing to diminish how stunning you look. The alcohol has blown out your eyes, swallowing your iris' almost whole – although, he'd like to think he had a hand in how truly taken you look right now. His hand is on your waist, equal amounts keeping you close and at bay as you bat your eyelashes prettily at him and pout.

'C'mon...' You press close, hand searching the expanse of his chest. His heart thunders underneath, picking up whenever you near his pecs, so you slip a had over his shoulder and use his height to ease yourself up onto your tip-toes. 'You've practically had your hand up my skirt all night, what's stopping you now?' You chuckle, clicking your tongue against your back teeth.

Bakugo's snarl twists his features before he can stop it. He can feel the barb, feel the world curl on the back of his tongue before he can do anything to stop it. It tumbles from his mouth, but even despite his attempt to spit it out softly – hoping it won't hurt too much, your nose wrinkles.

'You really think I'm that desperate?'

It's like you've been slapped.

Your hands tense on his shoulders, feet falling back flat to the floor. Part of you knows he's just trying to get a rise out of you, but you're beyond sick of the back and forth. It's been months of this, of you getting close enough to taste him only for him to retreat at the last moment, usually with a snarled comment he doesn't mean, or some silly excuse to protect that softly-beating heart everyone swears he doesn't have. Sighing, you step back – the tap of your heels like gunshots on the pavement as you raise your bag from the crook of your arm and back onto your shoulder. 'Obviously not.'

Your distance reads like rejection, burns a hole in his pride and makes him prickle. He shakes his head and slips his phone from his pocket intent on ordering his own taxi, despite the fact he can barely make out the squiggles he hopes are words. 'Fuckin' knew I shouldn't have let Red bring you-.'

After that the memories grow hazy.

He remembers how you'd somehow smoothed over the hiccup in the conversation, laughing it off in all probability, but even then, you'd never quite come as close to him as before. He remembers your laugh. Remembers how the melody of it had ricocheted around his brain in the taxi ride home. He remembers missing your warmth. He remembers the flash of guilt, his half-hard cock and drunken brain at war. He remembers his phone, the screen a pale blue, glowing. He remembers, he remembers his thumb hovering over your name.

He remembers chickening out...

Fuck.

Evidently, he hadn't chickened out hard enough.

Clicking onto your page, he checks your replies to make sure he hasn't hallucinated your response, but before he can even begin to obsess over it – his phone pings in his hand.

It's a message. A real one. Not something filtered in through his socials. With shaking hands, he opens it and pauses.

He has your number saved under your first name.

Just your first name.

Not 'Sidekick''. Not your full title. Or what department you work in. You don't even have a stupid moniker. For fucks sake, he's called Kirishima 'Shitty Hair' in every single phone he's had since high school, and Todoroki has remained solely Todoroki – even despite the fact, both him and his father share the title.

He doesn't dwell on the reasoning.

Instead, he opens the message and is immediately confronted with a screenshot of his tweet. He cringes. Your reply is underneath it, racking up too many likes for his taste, and underneath that is your text.

You: 'You really are fucking desperate, aren't you?'

He waits, palms sweating, watching as three little dot appear and disappear and then, reappear again.

You: 'Can't even reply to me?'

You: 'You could at least turn your read receipts off. I can see you reading the messages.'

You: 'For fucks sake, Bakugo?'

His pulse quickens, thrumming strong and rhythmic under his skin as if to remind him what it is to be near you. The joints in his fingers have frozen, despite the energy rushing through his body demanding movement. Through the haze of his vision he sees you typing again.

You: 'Can we stop doing this now?'

Yes. Bakugo thinks. God, yes. The room spins as he cranes his neck down at his phone, eyes unfocused... His heart and cock war on, but now, the alcohol makes it far too easy for the tide to sway. Flexing his thumbs, he taps back a message before he can think better of it, before the noise of his life and expectation and the world outside can eat away at him again.

Bakugo: 'Please.'

Your reply takes a second this time, forcing the air in his lungs to crystallize; but before he can drum up too many doubts, there's your name again lighting up his screen.

You: Is that the great Dynamight saying please?

Bakugo: Fuck off.

You: Fuck off, or fuck you?

Bakugo's cock twitches in his jeans. He's so hard it's almost painful now, causing an ache to spread up the deep lines of his hips and radiating through his pelvis. Reaching down, he palms at himself again feeling the heft of his desire in his palm. He types back, one handed, the other already occupied.

Bakugo: Don't play with me. You know he'll kill the both of us.

You: I never did get to give you your birthday present.

Furrowing his brow, Bakugo is taps out a series of question marks – unimpressed with the idea of birthday cake when he had come to expect something a whole lot different, but before the thought can fully depress him – another message comes through.

It's a screenshot. The one this entire conversation began with – his own message glowing from his screen. Except this time, underneath is a message that makes his breath catch in a whole new way.

You: 'This offer for everyone, or just everyone who isn't me?'

Bakugo: You.

Bakugo: It was just for you.

Bakugo stills, his breath jammed in the back of his throat as his brain catches up with his fingers.

Fuck.

He shouldn't be doing this.

He should of just had a wank to all of the filth being sent from his fans. Even that would get him in less trouble than this. Part of him wants to back out, wants to claim a hack or come up with some other equally unbelievable and shitty lie so he can turn tail and run, but there's no way back now. He knows that much. His cock is hard and heavy between his thighs, his drunken mind too far from sober for him to see reason.

He types back.

You don't bother changing. You'd dressed to impress after all. Instead, you snatch a condom from your brothers stash tuck it into your bra and order a taxi, checking the address Bakugo had sent you three times before finally confirming the ride.

The journey is short and sweet, filled with anticipation and the soft jazz that trickles through the radio of the car. You've been waiting for this, grown tired of the will they won't they that had lead to this moment, but now it's here, you find yourself: nervous.

The car mounts the curb, almost sending you sprawling, then a tenner and a lift ride later, you're at his door.

He opens it before you knock looking a little more together, but still drunk. You can feel it too, the alcohol still flooding your system and making everything just a little easier. Still, nothing is as easy as coming together. You mouth drops open, an unspoken question lingering on your tongue and then, Bakugo is on you.

'C'mere.' Using one hand, he hooks it around your waist and tugs at you to him. Your bodies collide, palms coming up to rest against his chest as you peer up at him. He doesn't know how he's resisted you for so long, how he's kept true and stopped this. After all, looking at you now cradled in his arms, it is obvious this was nothing, but inevitable.

Your lips come together easily. The kiss is harsh, full of pent up tension and a longing that has broken you both. He nips at your bottom lip before you flick your tongue against his teeth, tasting him properly as he lets you in.

'Holy shit.' Panting, you claw at him – your hands are everywhere: at his buttons, his chest, wrapped in the chain circling his neck. He pays you back in kind grabbing at your hips, taking handfuls of you with an eagerness that radiates through his entire body.

With an unceremonious grunt, he bends at the knees, slipping his hands under your thighs to hoist you up against his waist. He pulls back a slither, blinking at you, his shoulders straining at he takes your entire weight with ease and presses you into the wall of his hallway. A wicked grin takes his lips as you squeak, arms and legs wrapping around him to cling on. 'Hang on.'

He kisses you again then, pressed to the wall, but before you can catch you're breath he's off. You make a stop at a small counter where he presses his clothed cock to your cunt, letting you feel just what you're getting yourself into and again at the wall outside of his bedroom. There he almost leaves your neck raw, biting and sucking, but never enough to leave too much of a mark.

You stumble into his bedroom still cradled in Bakugo's arms. There's sure to be bruises on your elbows, a symptom of attempting to peel him from his shirt while he careened through the doorway, but as your back hitting the bed and Bakugo hovering over you, you find it hard to care. Reaching into your bra, you slip out the condom with two fingers and present it to him by waving it under his nose.

Taking it with his teeth, he grins as you let out a sigh that settles in his bones. Beneath him, you look insatiable. Your eyes have blown out, the black of your iris' banishing whatever colour had once been there. The dress he'd been so anxious to get under all night is rumpled, the slit cast aside exposing the thickness of your thighs and a slither of cunt covered by a pair of soft-looking red lace. The bodice is low, the heaving of your chest apparent – your tits held high, pressed together and begging for his hands. Slipping a hand up your thigh, he brushes his fingers across the flesh and earns himself the most pretty of moans.

'I knew you'd break.' Lifting your leg, you kick out at him softly – the ball of your heel connecting with his shoulder. You perch on your elbows, eyes swollen, the pulse of your cunt matching the beating of your heart. It's been rough until now, a clash of teeth and nails, but its hard not to notice the bare desire you see splayed out in his eyes. It's mixed with carmine, a colour that barely covers what, if nurtured, could become love. 'Knew I'd have you.'

He grabs your ankle and pulls on reflex, yanking you down the bed. 'Did you?' Under his skin he feels feral. Something that's only made worse when you lick your lips and nod.

His restraint snaps. Grabbing at your hips, he kneads the fat there before flipping you over. You bounce, a scream escaping your throat, but he quickly transforms the sound into a moan with a harsh slap against your ass.

'Thought you wanted head?' You laugh, feeling your skin prickle under him. There's a rustle behind you, the tell tale sound of him shucking down his jeans and then, his fingers are pulling your underwear away from your cunt and exposing you to the air.

'You always this much of a brat?'

You wriggle and lift up your hips. 'You always this hard for me? Oh wait...' You chuckle. 'You are.'

A growl rumbles in his throat, but it's not anger he's feeling. Taking his cock in his hand, he gives himself a cursory pass – the stickiness of his own pre cum making it easy. His head rocks back on his shoulders. With a bottle of whiskey still coursing through his vein's he's more than sensitive, the simple passes of his hand having him ready to blow – God only knows what the feel of your cunt will do to him.

'C'mon... Fuck me, forget the condom – just -.' Reaching behind you, you attempt to grab at him – to pull him close, get him to touch, to taste.

Chuckling to himself, he bats your hand away easily. 'Nah-ah-ah. Don't think you deserve me raw, sweetheart. Only good girls get that.' He squeezes the base of his cock, stopping a premature end as he tears through the tinfoil of the condom and slips it on.

You go to whine, to kick your feet and protest him not giving into you, but you're not even given the chance.

The first thing you feel is impossibly full. The next is overwhelming pleasure. Bakugo hadn't wasted time prepping you and to be honest, you hadn't needed it. You're soaking, cunt dribbling greedily onto his mattress – like you haven't been waiting forever for this moment. You arc your back, one hand fisting his bed sheets as the other curls around the wrist he plants beside your head. The pace he's set is brutal, each thrust pushing deeper inside of you, taking you as he pleases as you cling on and submit to it.

'Where's the cheek now, huh?' He pants. Honestly, he's surprised he's not cum already. Your cunt milks him, squeezing him so deliciously that he doesn't think he'll ever find anyone better.

Then again, he know what they say about forbidden fruit.

''m sorry.' You moan, back curling as he fucks you harder. It's pathetic how he's barely given you anything and yet, you're already creaming around him. Your body begs for release, teetering you on the precipice of ecstasy as he uses you relentlessly.

'No your not...' Bakugo chokes out, teeth bared as he clings to the last threads of his control. Your tight now, too tight to not be close and if the way you're moaning and almost drooling onto his bed is anything to go by – he's not wrong. Leaning over you, he licks a thick stripe up between your shoulder blades before resting his lips by your ear. When he speaks is a growl, a command that comes from deep within his chest. 'Touch yourself... C'mon, show me how pretty you cum.'

You don't need telling twice. Forcing your arm beneath you, you draw quick, awkward circles on your clit and have to remind yourself to breathe. Your orgasm hits you like a train. Every muscle in your body tenses, your eyes rolling back into your skull as the high continues to roll through your body. It feels like a millennia until you come back again, until your limbs begin to feel under your own control and you become aware of Bakugo still frantically prolonging your high.

'Shit, shit, shit...' Pulling out, he ignores your protests before quickly rolling off the condom. It takes a singular pass of his fist before he cums, a grunt thrown from his chest as he releases himself over your ass. His mess is sticky, a pearlescent sheen that drips between your cheeks and onto your raw cunt – your clit still twitching.

In a moment of madness, he retrieves his phone from his pocket and snaps a picture of the scene. In it, only the edge of your dress can be seen, coupled with the most distant droplets of his spend as it decorates the skin of your thighs.

'Post it.' Craning over your shoulder, you hiss at the new soreness in your limbs as you roll onto your back. You tilt your head, signature mischief returning to your cheeks. 'Got to let those fan girls know you've already being taken care of...' You flash a smile. 'And I'd really hate to see your DM's right now.'

Against his better judgement, he tosses you his phone. 'Knock yourself out.'

It's almost six in the morning when you finally settle for bed. You'd gone another three rounds. Once in shower, over the vanity in the hallway and then, again in his bed and each time had seen both of you aching and sore and more than pleased with yourselves. You'd posted the picture and Bakugo's phone hadn't been quiet since – not that you minded. It wasn't like anyone could really tell what it was. The lighting was awful, the image blurred and you'd cropped it so there was no chance of anyone figuring out who you were.

Still, the idea of it stirs up something hot and heavy in your stomach.

You'd laid your claim now.

'I will never know how you're such a demon when you're brother's a God damn golden boy.' Bakugo's breathing has just about leveled out, you hand rising and falling in a more subtle rhythm where it lays on the center of his chest.

You wrinkle your nose. 'Can we not talk about my brother while I can still feel your cum dripping down my ass, please.'

Bakugo chufs, but relents. His thumb rubs soft circles in the skin of your shoulder, a gentle beckoning to sleep as both of you watch the sun rise and fill his bedroom window with a brilliant orange. 'Stay?' He kisses your forehead. 'I'll make you breakfast.'

Nuzzling into him, you're about to agree – mind already reeling at the possibilities of Bakugo's cooking and another round at a more respectable hour – but, all thoughts cease when Bakugo's phone pings with a message.

'If this is my fucking publicist you can explain yourself.' Bakugo tuts, but there's still a warmth in his smile that betrays his annoyance.

You giggle. 'Happy to.'

Flipping over his phone in his hand, Bakugo's mouth drops open when the screen glows to light his face.

There's only one message on the screen.

And it isn't from his publicist.

Shitty Hair: 'Really dude, my fucking sister?'

#bakugo smut #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #mha smut #saturnsorbits #saturnscribbles

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pressrelease1 · 7 months

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CHAI SUTTA BAR OFFERS 9 UNIQUE TEA FLAVORS AT ITS AGRA OUTLET

#Submit Press Release India #Press Release Campaign India #Press Release Online India

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hotvintagepoll · 9 days

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Propaganda

Judy Garland (Meet Me In St. Louis, A Star is Born, Summer Stock)— Judy is the GOAT when it comes to classic movie musicals. The voice of an angel who deserved so much better than she got. She can sing she can dance she can act she's a triple threat. Though she had a turbulent personal life (her treatment as a child star by the studio system makes me mad as hell like Louis b Mayer fight me ((she was made to believe that she was physically unattractive by the constant criticism of film executives who made her feel ugly and who manipulated her onscreen appearance by capping her teeth and using discs in her nose to change its shape and Mayer called her "my little hunchback" like imagine hearing that as a child and not having damage)) she always goddamn delivered on screen and in any performance she gave. She began in vaudeville performing with her sisters and was signed to MGM at 13. Starting out in supporting parts especially paired with mickey Rooney in a bunch of films (she's the best part tbh) she eventually transferred to the lead role. She is best known for her starring role in movie musicals like the iconic Wizard of Oz (somewhere over the rainbow still hits hard and is ranked the top film song of all time), meet me in St. Louis (Judy singing have your self a merry little Christmas brings tears to the eyes she is that powerful), the Harvey girls (she looks like a technicolor dream and sings a catchy af song about trains), Easter parade ( dancing and singing with Fred Astaire), for me and my gal, the pirate, and summer stock ( with pal Gene Kelly who she helped when he was starting out and he helped her when she was struggling). But she also does non- singing just as well like the clock ( her first movie where she sings no songs and is an underrated ww2 era romance), her Oscar nominated a star is born ( like the man that got away she put her whole soul in that and I have beef with the fact she lost to grace kelly ((whom I love but like still not even her best work)), and judgement at Nuremberg (a courtroom drama about the nazi war criminal trials). Outside of film she made concert appearances to record-breaking audiences, released 8 studio albums, and had her own Emmy-nominated tv series. She was the youngest (39) and first female recipient of the Cecil B DeMille award for lifetime achievement in the film industry. Girl was a lifelong democrat and was a financial and moral supporter of many causes including the civil rights movement (she was at the March on Washington and held a press conference to protest the 16th street Baptist church bombings). She was a friend of the Kennedy family and would call jfk weekly often ending the calls by singing the first few lines of somewhere over the rainbow (she thought of them as Gemini twins).She was a member of the committee for the first amendment which was formed in response to the HUAC investigations. Though she died far too young and tragically she remains an icon for her work and her life. As a girl who didn't feel like i was as pretty as everyone else I have always felt a connection to Judy and I just really love her.

Natalie Wood (West Side Story, The Great Race)—She went through so much shit which I know can be said for all these women but Natalie really was a star and her death often overshadows her career and life. She could make you cry, but she also had the capacity to be incredibly funny which I think is lost on people.

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Natalie Wood:

Judy Garland:

Judy's voice alone qualifies her for at least top ten hottest HOT VINTAGE MOVIE WOMEN. She was a truly incredible swing singer, with a stunning voice on top of her technique. Her short dark hair looked incredible in just about any style. Have I mentioned her swagger? I can’t do it justice with words. She had swagger. She was funny as hell, and clever too. Incredibly charming and cool. I adore her.

Her eyes, her voice have bewitched me

I mean how can you beat the one and only Judy? She's beautiful, her smile is contagious, the way she sings with her whole body. You can't help but love her.

youtube

Beautiful woman, love her singing voice. And she can do everything between happy or silly and angry or heartbroken

#natalie wood #judy garland #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 4 #Youtube

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