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#why the fuck would i go out to a bar or something when i can watch my favorite characters defeat villains over and over again?
jacaerysgf · 2 days
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Like a virgin!
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s.m: based off a request; youre so sick of being a virgin. So now you’re set on losing your virginity but you’re very nervous, don’t worry your roommate is here to help you and give you some tips. as a “friend”. and maybe just one tip.
w.c: 2.8k
c.w: porn with plot, p in v, riding, virginity lose (fem), fingering (fem), titty sucking, protected sex, not proofread
a.n: more modern jace to feed the crowd, love you guys <3
masterlist
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You find unsure of yourself as you stare into the floor length mirror in front of you. your eyes linger towards the clock you have hanging on your wall.
7:15
You wish you were dreading a test or a final project but instead you were counting down the minutes to a much worse fate.
a date.
Not just any date of course, this is the date you planned on finally losing your virginity.
As a senior in college and still being a fucking virgin you were humiliated. All your friends told you your time would come but when was the time coming? You were so sick of waiting anymore and decided the next guy that asked you out would be the guy.
He was a friend of a friend. No you think he’s your friends cousin. Fuck you have no clue. Not that it mattered, all that mattered is that he’s nice enough and he would fuck you. You had seen some pictures of him from you friend and thought he was cute so you just decided to screw it and agree to go on a blind date with him. it was at a bar, not too far from where you were so you just told him you would meet him there.
You walk out of you room to go sit in the kitchen and overthink for the next 25 minutes until you planned to leave. All your roommates were out of the apartment tonight except one. Jacaerys. His back turned to you, shirtless as always cooking something on the stove, he shoots you a hey as you walk by and you let out a meek hello which has him turning around and widening his eyes.
“well hello you.” You roll yours eyes and sit on one of the island stools as he walks over, eyeing what he can see from over the island counter and whistling, “Look at you hot stuff, thought the girls were busy tonight.”
“They are.” He looks at you with raised brows, before he turns back to the stove, attending to what you assume is some veggies, “Then what are you all dressed up for?” He asks before he takes a fork to his skillet and takes a bite from it.
“I have a date.” He begins to cough vigorously, you almost stand to help him but he waves his hands at you and takes a big chug from his water. “What?” “I have a date…?”
You don’t know why he’s acting so weird. Maybe he thinks you are so terrible you could not possibly score a date, You two weren’t exactly close, not that you were with any of your roommates, but you had thought he was the nicest one always offering you some of whatever he was making and was always the only one to clean up after himself and did his dishes often.
“With who?” “A friend of a friend, or i think he’s her cousin.” “You don’t know?” “I’ve never met him?” “You’re going on a blind date?” You feel kind of hurt by his words and look down at your lap, “Whats so weird about that?”
He lets out some mumbled curses before he begins to speak again, “no thats not what i meant love i just didn’t think you were the type to go on blind dates thats all.” He was right you weren’t, it was rare you even went out on dates at all.
“Just felt like doing something new?” You certainly can’t tell him what you truly want out of this. Yet when you answer comes out as a question he turns to your from his place in front of the stove with a curious look. “You sure its just that?”
You nod hesitantly and he smirks, “ah i get it, you wanna get laid,” How can he tell? He laughs at your wide eyes and goes back to cooking. “Don’t worry babe we all get like that sometimes. When was the last time you go laid?” A couple moments of silence passes and he turns to you with wide eyes.
“No way.” You flush, embarrassed at his stare, “No what?” he moves his pan off the stove, turning it off before he stares at you with wonder. “No way you’re a fucking virgin.” You open your mouth and some broken mumbles fall from your lips, “no…” “I cant fucking believe it.” “Why’s it so hard to believe?” Your tone must have come off harsh because he walks back towards you with puppy eyes.
“No no no babe i just cant fucking believe it, a hot babe like you still a virgin, unbelievable.” You flush and turn your head away from him as he begins to stand right in front of you. You cant tell if he’s teasing you or not. Jace was known as one of the hottest guys on campus, but he was never really known as the type of guy to sleep around, of course a few lucky girls would go around bragging that they got to sleep with him and they talked about how much they enjoyed it.
“You dont need to say that…” “Why wouldn’t i? You’re hot as hell, especially right now i mean look at you, that guy would be a fool if he werent pouncing on you the second he sees you.” This suddenly reminds you of your impending future and you go silent.
“Something wrong?” He looks so concerned you can’t help but confess to him, “Im nervous, i dont know what im even supposed to do.” You put your head in your hands in shame, at your age you should atleast have some experience but you could barely say you’ve held a guys hand. You had thought you would gain a lot more experience in college after missing out on relationships in highschool but you barely did anything. And now you were just trying to get it all over with at once with no knowledge on how to do anything.
“Why don’t i show you some things?” You freeze at his words and slowly lift your head up to look at him, “What?”
“Let me give you some, pointers for lack of a better word, so you can walk into your date more confident.”
You hesitate. You’ve always thought jacaerys was a cute guy and you fear taking him up on his offer would only allow your feelings for him to grow . but you dont want to walk into this date a fool so you end up looking at him with curious eyes. “What are you gonna do?” He grins, like he knew you were gonna say that. “Go stand near the couch.”
You are confused but follow his instructions and watch him with curiosity as he walks over to you and stands directly in front of you. “Where do you think this will all take place?” “Were going to a bar in a hotel he’s staying in so i would assume his hotel room.”
“Okay close your eyes.” You close them and you shiver as you feel the ghosting of his hands on your skin, trailing down your face and your neck. “First things first he would kiss you, you okay with me kissing you?” You nod and squeeze your eyes shut, as your heart begins to race. “… You have been kissed before havent you?”
You hesitate before you nod and he laughs, “Its okay,” You feel his forehead press against yours and your noses rub together, “ill teach you anything you need to know.” He presses his lips against yours and you lose yourself to him, following his lead. He cups your face gently and hums against your lips, lightly pressing his tongue against your lips leading you to open them, allowing him to slide into your mouth.
Unsure of what to do you just let him do as he pleases, ignoring the way you feel your underwear growing soaked at his actions. He suddenly pulls away from his lips and you open your eyes, and notice hes already staring at you. He looks so beautiful with his bruised lips but he barely gives you any time to admire him as he goes back in for another kiss that has your knees trembling.
He leans you down to lay back on the couch and he leans over you, breaking away from your kiss to leave a trail of kisses down your jaw and down your neck, his hands grip at the dress you’re wearing, moving it down to expose more of your chest so he can continue to press hot kisses against your skin.
You can’t help but try to get any friction by lifting your hips towards his but he pushes your hips down and shushes you when you whimper. “Its okay baby no need to rush we have all night.”
you shouldnt have all night but you can’t think about that right now as he continues to slide down your dress, “Can i take this off love?” You nod your head and watch his expression morph into one of wonder as he takes off your dress and admires you. You can chosen to go braless as it didn’t look good with your strapless dress and you wore a lacy pink pair of panties.
“Look at you baby so pretty fuck, always so fucking pretty.”
He latches onto one of your nipples and plays with the other with his thumb as he slots himself between you legs and begins to grind his hips against yours, when did he take off his shorts? you can feel his hardness press against the wet fabric, hitting you so right you throw your head back and can do nothing else but moan.
You don’t know how long you’re laying there, jace switches which nipple he’s attached to at some point but you barely notice it. Too focused on the burning pit growing in your stomach. You grip onto his hair tightly and he groans, the sensation around you sending shivers down your spine. He pulls off of you and stops the momentum of his hips despite your mumbles of disagreement. “Im supposed to be teaching you remember.” You hadn’t really remember that but you’re more shocked he did.
You nod lazily and he slides his hand down your stomach and toys with the bow on the front of your panties. “Will you let me?” Your heart pounds as you stare at him, you can barely believe this is happening. He looks at you with a soft smile and presses a peck against your lips, “yes.”
His hand slides under the fabric and he immediately curses to himself as he rubs against your folds. “fuck you’re soaked.” You whine as you thrust your hips into his heads trying to get more friction from him. “Please.” “relax ill take care of you don’t worry baby.”
He sticks a finger inside of you slowly and you push your head into the crook of his neck as he lets out some more mumbled curses, “fuck you feel so fucking good.” He pumps the one finger in you a couple times, drinking in your moans before he adds another finger and groans out loud when you bite against his neck.
“just like that pretty god.”
You pulse around him at his praise and he speeds up his fingers, “You like that baby? telling you how good you are for me?”
you nod as best you can into the crook of his neck and he adds a third finger, continuing to press and prod at your insides. Your hands find their to his back and grip onto the skin with your nails and he hisses, his fingers halting suddenly before they pick up a more brutal pace. bringing you closer and closer to your release.
You feel the pit continue to burn in your stomach until you can barely hold it any more and he can tell. “cum let go do it.” You follow his instructions to a tea and come quickly on his fingers, he helps you ride out your orgasm and you can feel your underwear stick uncomfortably to your skin.
He pulls his fingers out and you pull away from him, watching mesmerized as he pulls each of them in his mouth, licking every drop of essence off his fingers.
the two of you stare at each other while you catch your breaths, you hesitantly bring your hands to his face and he leans into your touch dreamily as he pressed his forehead against yours. “we don’t have to do anymore if you don’t want to.” you glance off to the side and eye the digital clock.
7:40
When you wanted to leave. You could get up now and leave, go to the date probably a lot more prepared than ever. but you don’t wanna go. you want to stay here, with him. even if this was just a casual thing to him you were happier losing your virginity to him than some random guy you only know from pictures.
“Please fuck me jace.” He pulls back and looks at you, “are you sure?” you nod, “yes please fuck me.”
With your assurance he wastes no time flipping you over so he’s laying beneath you and you sit above him. You stare down at him with wide eyes, “don’t worry this will feel really good.”
The two of you stand for a moment and he slides your underwear down your legs letting out a couple more swears that have you burning with embarrassment while he drops his own briefs and flops back down on the couch, pulling you down with him with a shriek causing him to laugh.
He rummages around in the side table and pulls out a condom, ripping it open with his teeth before he slides it over himself before he adjusts you over him.
“final lesson, ill lead you itll feel real good i promise.” you nod and he grips onto your hips with his free hand while his other keeps hims aligned with your folds as he begins to push past them and deeply inside you.
you cannot believe you spent your whole life without this what were you doing? it burns but its a burn that makes you feel like you wanna scream from pleasure the lower and lower you sink, you let out some strangled noises as he presses kisses against your bare skin, showering you with praises. “jace,,” “i know baby i know fuck you feel so good its okay you’re almost there.”
You suddenly reach the bottom and the two of you stay there for a long time allowing you to adjust. Yet you grow impatient and scrap your nails against hos chest. “you ready to move baby?” “yes please fuck.”
He grips your hips with both hands and lifts you up before lowering you back down and you swear you’re seeing stars. The two of you moan in sync when he lifts you back up and lowers you back down again. The two of you continue this routine over and over, he attaches his lip to your nipple once again as the two of you pick up your pace, at a certain point he begins to thrust his hips upwards and you throw your head head all the way back in a loud moan.
The pit begins to burn in your stomach again and you begin to move faster and faster, reaching your hands to pull at his hair and he loudly groans at the sensation. “cum baby fuck im right behind you.” His hand reaches down and plays with your clit for a few moments which sends you over the edge. You clench around him, your release slides down around his cock and he releases soon after you, the way you gripped around him serving as his final push.
He keeps you inside of him on his lap while he leans back, looking at you with a smile as he wipes the sweat off his face. “I always wanted to do that you know?”
you look at him in shock and he shrugs. “i know im doing this all wrong but, you wanna go on a date tomorrow? ive just liked you for awhile and fuck this guy, go out with me.”
You laugh and slap him on the chest, “of course i will you idiot.”
he grins and kisses you and you feel him harden inside you. when you give him a look he merely laughs and flips you to where your suddenly laying on your back. “Youre just too fucking hot.”
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perm jacaerys taglist <3
@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jacesvelaryons
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ken-dom · 1 day
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Currently thinking about Jacob Palmer x fem reader going through a dry spell becoming more and more desperate for anything that he is willing to do anything to go home with you he’d get down on his knees and beg if you asked
Sorry for taking a billion years anon! Hope you’re still thinking about it 😩 personally, I can’t resist this. This lends itself so perfectly to pathetic Jacob, and I’m a sucker for making them pathetic 😈
What Jacob considers a dry spell wouldn’t be a very long period of time at all. Imagine him going home alone a few nights in a row, having failed at picking someone up. Then it turns into a couple of weeks and he's sad and horny...
NSFW, gn!reader
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It’s happened before, it does from time to time, especially at the quieter times of year when the bars aren’t filled with potential matches for him.
But it’s not quiet right now. The bars are bustling, and he’s had plenty of chances. He just hasn’t actually managed to impress a single person he’s tried to chat up for almost a week.
And when going home alone bleeds into the second week, he wonders if he’s lost his charm, or his skill or — whatever that perfect combination of elements is that he’s spent years perfecting and has down to a fine art. Or, he thought he did.
He gives the bars a miss for a couple of nights. Maybe he’s just burnt out? But even his sex toys are boring him now, and the ache between his thighs is becoming unbearable. But he doesn't bother even trying tonight.
Laid in bed, lazily stroking his throbbing cock for the third night in a row, he feels a tear trickle down his cheek.
Enough is enough. Is this what he’s been reduced to? A sad, sobbing mess, jerking off alone on a Friday night?
He can't have that.
And so an hour later, he’s marching into the bar, the one he always starts at, and strides right up to you.
‘Hey,’ he nods, eyeing you. ‘You were here last week. You turned me down, remember?’
This time, he’s taking a more direct approach. He doesn’t have time to waste if he's going to change his luck.
‘Excuse me?’
‘I want you to come home with me,’ he says, plain, and then a little more seductive, 'I... I haven't stopped thinking about you.' It's a lie and you both know it.
‘No, thanks.’
‘A-alright. May I ask why?’ He might as well try and figure it out at the source since he’s dragged himself all the way here.
‘I don’t do one night stands. Not my thing. You seem very…’ your eyes drag up and down his body and he notices the way your lip curls at one side, ‘nice, but, no, thank you.’
They rarely do until they meet me, he thinks, but instead he says, ‘What if we don’t call it that?’
He turns to the bartender and gestures something, and you guess he must come here a lot because the man not only recognises him but immediately begins work on mixing two drinks.
Unfortunately, he’s so hot your general rule of no one night stands suddenly seems a stupid guideline to have placed on yourself. You begin to wonder, what if?
‘What are we supposed to call it then?’ you ask, with a sigh of resignation and a curiosity that slips though just enough to set excitement bubbling in his gut. ‘You won't call me after. I'll never see you again. Or, if I do, you'll pretend you don't know me. What can we call that?’
‘An adventure? Having fun? Whatever you want,’ he says eagerly, leaning in to follow up with a whisper. ‘One thing I can guarantee.’
‘And what would that be?’
‘Orgasms like you’ve never experienced.’ His voice has dropped low, breath hot against your ear, and your core clenches.
You didn't realise one night stands cared about a single orgasm let alone the plural. Fuck. You want him.
‘But I don’t even know your-’
‘Jacob.’ Wow that was too fast.
‘Okay, Jacob. Let’s say I come home with you. Hypothetically. What then?’
He’s never had to play desperate before, but your response to it is making his blood run hot. For the first time in his adult life he’s not sure what to say, dazed by his bodies reaction to you. Is he playing desperate or just plain pathetic? His cock twitches and he grips the edge of the bar, not going unnoticed by you.
The cocktails he ordered are placed on the bar in front of you and you turn to take yours, delighted at the taste. He has good taste. You could tell that a mile off, but feeling it against your tongue hits different.
‘Oh, this is good!’ you exclaim, wondering why he hasn’t picked up his drink. When you turn back, ready to accept his invitation after all, he’s not there.
Well, he is there. Just not where you left him.
He’s knelt at your feet, gazing up at you, and suddenly you understand the true meaning of the phrase puppy dog eyes. And it makes your heart race. You suddenly feel the need to slam him against a wall, strip him bare and watch him tremble.
‘I’ll do whatever you want me too,’ he promises. ‘Give you whatever you need. Thats what’ll happen if you come home with me.’
‘Anything?’ you ask, knees turning weak at how utterly needy he looks down there.
‘Anything.’
‘Let me get my coat.’
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valeskawhore · 2 days
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Hi darling<3, hope you are doing okay<3! I was wondering if i can get a one shot or headcanons (wichever is easier for you) where Homelanders fall in love genuinely for a Female s/o wich is so cute, sweet and kind and have angel powers, like the wings, she can put people to sleep if she sings and almost looks like an angel (perfect sking almost in a pale pink tone, and pink hair<3). And the team is very confused like "How in the hell you fall in love with someone?", but Homelanders is very happy and wants to be a good boyfriend :D
Sorry it took me a bit!!!! Here you go lovely!!!! ❤️
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Homelander x fem! Angel!! Supe reader!!
~•~•~•~•~•~•~
It was such a surprise that Homelander could pull any bitches tbh.. (according to Maeve and A-train)
There was that one nazi chick but nobody even knows what happened to her? Didn’t she commit? Ehhh— nobody cares anyways.. especially not him.
You were the light of his life, his Angel on earth.
You both met during a Hero Galla being hosted in the tower. You weren't the biggest supe out there but you were a good friend of maeve's and what better time to have and reconnect then to get drunk at a hero gala? She was thrilled to see you again, as thrilled as Maeve can be anyways. You joined her at the bar, your wings stayed tucked on your back. They were huge so everytime you went to a public event you always ended up folding them into eachother as tightly as they possible could without them hurting. His words caught in his throat when he first saw you. And fun fact, he actually thought you were a painting when he first saw you. You were standing outside the bathroom, waiting for Maeve to stop throwing up after she ushered you outside, insisting that she was fine. You stood under a giant mural of a painting, one with angels on it unitentionally. It was very christain or something, with naked babies flying around in their white clothes wrapped around their bottoms and shooting arrows. Just something like that-- he dosent know, he didn't stare at the painting. This man had to do a double take. He glanced and was like-- "oh painting" and just as he was about to turn and walk away, Yanno do his job and charm the president for madam stillwell, The painting MOVED-- You simply turned to the side like a smidge and this man was on you when he found out you were REAL. You had the soft pink complexion with bright light undertones. You're hair was as if you were cupid. The color of love even in his eyes. Was it hearts? shingling in the reflection of his blue saucers? or was it your hair? he didn't know, he didn't give a fuck. But best believe, he was on you like white on rice. Homelander had never felt so bold before but there was something about your kind smile and words. Your voice was soft and quiet, he wasn't complaining, this gave him an excuse to step closer to you and invade your personal space so he could hear you over all the commotion in the room. He would grab your hand and introduce himself as THE homelander, Kissing your gentle soft knuckles. Did he mention you were soft? SOOOO soft. You blinked at him, "Oh..? are you important? iv'e never heard of you before?" And you really hadn't. you grew up on a small farm in Washington state allllllll the way over on the last state on the west side of the country. You didnt own a TV, you didn't even have a phone. that's why it took so long for you and make to reconnect. He was shocked, his pride was almost hurt a bit. Ofcourse he went into the fact that he's above everyone else because he was KINDA a big deal but it's fine. Cue to him obnoxiously shrugging and rolling his eyes with a wave of his hand, no biggie. But you were fascinated. He was so caught in your eyes, he didnt even realize the fact that you had wings until you turned around when you heard maeve's voice. Asking what the FUCK was Homelander doing. But it was no matter, because now it was your turn to sing for the gala! Little to your knowledge did Maeve make a public announcement that there was going to be a special preformance tonight from the one and only, "Seraphina" Your hero name. You were ushered to the stage pretty quickly by Maeve but untimatley she just wanted you away from Homelander as fast as possible. The song started pretty slowly. But that was your motive, the song was supposed to be a slow almost-lulliby theme. And if this man wasn't Inlove with you from the start, he definitely was now. There was something about your voice. something so calmly and soothing. Visable, his muscle sunk to the ground. He felt so relaxed under your tone.
It wasn’t until you had stopped singing abruptly and the crowd began to murmur was when he opened back up his eyes to see that your backup violinist had fallen to the ground in a deep slumber and you went rushing to his side.
Homelander’s eye twitched. Causing him to swiftly approach the stage in a not so calm like manner and step into it causing the crowd to cheer.
“Come on, sweetness. He’s fine.” Homelander smiled his signature smile. When you turned around, Homelander landed a swift kick to the man’s groin causing the man to choke out.
“See?” He turned to you, almost searching for approval. “He’s fine, sing. Please.”
He demanded.
And nervously.. you did.
——-
The rest of the night was history. Homelander remained attempting to chat you up until you finally told him that yes, you’d go on a date with him. He was ecstatic, but yet fearful.
He saw the way Maeve looked at you. Not in a romantic way but In a warning way. He knew Maeve was gonna try and say something to you about him, and destroy your relationship with him.
He threatened her that night and actually had her locked up on level 12.
————
When you guys did start dating, it was great. Homelander had convinced you that he was the perfect gentleman for you. That you guys belonged to eachother.
And for a while you thought that you guys did. Sure he was a little possessive but you never once doubted that he didn’t loved you because you knew he did.
He would follow you around and help you clean the house. He would insist on trying for children and on those lonely nights he’d hold you like no other.
And the sex was great. It really was.
But remember that guy from Walmart that said he knew you? And you both ended up grabbing a coffee after finding out you guys were really close in high school?
No? Because Homelander can’t either. That guy never existed apparently.. according to John.
Everything was fine.. that’s what you told yourself. You lived in a lavished home, nothing like the small farm from Washington. And you were taken care of.. set for life.
Until a smaller woman would approach you and ask for your help in rescuing Maeve. Her name was starlight and she apparently was a member of the 7. You glanced around, and told her to keep her voice down before ushering her into the bathroom and demanding that she’d explain.
What was going on? What couldn’t you find Maeve? She had been missing ever since you and Homelander had began dating.
John insisted that it was nothing and that Maeve had went to rehab? So what was going on.
You ended up telling John about your strange encounter with said straight and endorsed that she was strange.
You’ll never forget the look in his eyes from across the dinner table, like something had snapped in them. His blue eyes now felt cold as he stopped chewing his food with a nervous tensed laugh.
For the first time, you felt scared.
Maybe that little blonde girl was right.
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brucewaynehater101 · 1 month
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I get asked, "What do you do with your life?" and have no clue how to respond. I tell people all I'm doing is working cause "post fanfics, have a batfam blog, and stream on Twitch" is not a conversation I want to try to explain to others.
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spacedlexi · 1 year
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up until this point i feel like hbo’s tlou has been pretty good at expanding upon pre-existing content from the game, but for me this new episode was kinda mid..
i wouldve liked to see more expansion on sam and henrys story, or maybe even kyle and ish?? (loved that story)(they showed the drawing of them for a half second and they renamed kyle for no reason 💀). but instead we get introduced to this kathleen (?? can barely remember her name) lady who i couldnt get myself to care about. cared more about her 2nd in command guy
sam and henry were my favorite of the original supporting cast and they have to share their time with this lady that puts me to sleep, while frank and bill got nearly an entire heartfelt episode dedicated to them
with the side stories theyre choosing to tell so far i feel like by the time we get to part 2 its gonna be like “we’re doing THIS again??” (and part 2 was already kinda like that for me as in it didnt really do anything new or interesting for me)
like oh my god we’re still going on about revenge and forgiveness and ooooh nobody is perfectly good or bad we are all shades of grey 2 sides of the same coin yadda yadda except now theyre all self aware about it 😭💀
like can we write anything else?? besides trying to make both sides of a violent conflict equal of course because they love doing that (dont think i forgot abt the weird palestine/israel parallel in pt2 i think that was the worst one for me). but kathleen is basically just abby again and unless part 2 is a complete rewrite then im gonna be honk shoo mimimimi ASLEEP
#hbo tlou#tlou hbo#spoilers for the new ep and i guess part 2??#but yeah ive been mostly enjoying this show up until this point#but theres been like a little gnat every once in a while buzzing annoyingly at my ear#and i go 'ugh shut up fuck off' and swat it away#and im still enjoying it dont get me wrong#i really wanted them to do sam and henry well so my bar was high and that little fuckin gnat is buzzing at me again#indulge my little rant so i can let it out and cool off#i like tlou as a whole but i do feel like at this point these are things that i guess niel?? suffers with as a writer#and whoever else is in the writing room with him#cuz these are problems ive had with the games too#grabs my airhorn AND I STILL LIKE IT!!!!!!! I STILL LIKE THE LAST OF US!!!! YOU CAN HAVE CRITIQUES AND LIKE SOMETHING!!!!!!#sometimes people act like you say anything bad about something and suddenly it means you hate the whole thing and why are you watching it??#you are so BORING#but ive been very nice to this show so far so let me have this#it speaks#also just a little thing they made henry less 'savvy' i guess and more reckless? game henry was tense and no nonsense but also chill#like they had him trip up a few times and i was like psh game henry would only do that on accident#just really dont like how they handled sam and henry like whyd they do that....liked it better when he was also an outsider to the city#and i have mixed feelings about....sams whole thing...#SIGH BIG SIGH OH WELL at least i still have game sam and henry to look forward to i will be getting back to that stream#its been almost a decade and game sam and henry manage to rip my heart out EVERY single time like i said the bar was so high#so im not holding the S+H stuff against them as much as i am the fuckin revenge/forgiveness shit#im so tired of it#if this story was supposed to be some kind of precursor to pt 2 then like i think theyre starting to overdo it
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suguann · 3 months
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He has a feeling that the new girl running the front desk at the gym is going to be a problem—a distraction disguised in a gym uniform polo and khaki pants.
It starts with you smiling too brightly as he walks in one morning, all teeth and that little twinkle in your eye that feels like trouble when you scan his membership card.
“Good morning, Mr. Riley.” 
“It’s just Simon,” he tells you as he takes his card off the counter. 
The following day, it’s the same, except Johnny is there to make it worse.
He nudges Simon with his elbow. “She’s kinda pretty, huh?”
“Say it any louder, and she’ll hear you, mate,” he grumbles.
Simon’s not blind; of course, he knows you’re pretty, but he doesn’t have time to commit to anything outside of work—even if you smile at him like you’re happy to see him and how he’ll think about it later: on missions, at his desk, during morning runs. His head is nothing short of woven webs with thoughts of you stuck in the middle.
Honestly, it’s that you—
(You try to make small talk with him every morning, and Simon is starting to think it’s just for him because on the days he doesn’t come alone, you merely scan his card and go back to reading the open paperback book on the desk.)
It’s weird because it’s almost like you—
(He bumps into you at the supermarket and makes a dumb joke about carrots that makes you laugh. It makes him a little tongue-tied and awkward afterward because he realizes he hasn’t talked to a woman outside of only wanting a quick fuck in a really long time, but more importantly, he wants to hear it again. 
Instead, he tosses potatoes in his cart and walks away.)
He tells himself it means nothing, or not how Simon wants it to.
You’re just…he’s not even sure; acquaintances? Maybe more than that, but less than friends. Somewhere in that odd in-between phase where he only knows bits and pieces but not the whole picture.
Sometimes, he wishes—
(Simon doesn’t know what he’s doing the first time he invites you to meet the guys from work on a night out. He’s dated around a few times and had his fair share of hook-ups, but this isn’t like that. His palms are sweaty, more than usual, and no amount of wiping them on the thighs of his jeans keeps them dry.
Then you walk into the bar in a dress that’s probably too light for early spring in London—even though he stares appreciatively at the long expanse of your legs as you walk up to the table—and he wishes he wasn’t introducing you as his friend.)
But you—
(A new development happens after you slip him your phone number on one of the gym’s business cards—it’s weird that we don’t have each other’s numbers, so message me sometime or whatever—and he messages you ‘hey’ right before he leaves for a mission a few days later. 
It slowly shifts and changes over time.
You start sending him texts in the morning. Never an actual good morning text, but of the dogs you take on walks, the sunrise, the new flower box in your window. Somehow, it’s better.)
You really are—
(His house feels too hot, and he’s distracted from the movie by how close you are, how your leg drapes over his under the blanket, fingers fisting into his sweater at his stomach that clenches. An ache that grows, throbbing, spreading from his abdomen to his groin.
It feels monumental—something more than the gentle touch to the elbow to squeeze by each other in his entryway earlier or giving you his jacket that night at the bar—a tilt of the axis that makes the messy pieces fall neatly into place. 
He must be staring because you glance up at him, smiling, and the sound from the TV turns into white noise in the background.
“Can I…would you—fucking hell,” Simon runs a hand through his hair. “Can I kiss you?”
When your lips press against his, and his hands are pulling you onto his lap, where you settle hotly against his dick tenting in his jeans, he wonders why neither of you has done this before. Just kissing—him licking the seam of your mouth, and you panting his name.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” you mumble, lips brushing his.
“Me too,” and he fists his hand into the hair at your nape and pulls you back to his mouth.)
“I knew you’d be trouble,” he tells you one day, glaring at the bloke further down the bar who tried making a swipe at your ass before Simon showed up, towering over his shoulder with your fruity cocktail in hand.
“Oh, yeah?” you giggle, leaning into his side.
“Yeah,” the corners of his mouth quirk, though he hides it when he presses a kiss against your temple. “A real pain in my ass, love.”
“But yours.”
This time, he does smile. “Yes, but mine.”
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birdantlers · 10 months
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A heartfelt and grievously expanded-upon update to this—please, please read the whole thing if you can. reblogs much appreciated.
(DISCLAIMER, for all who are saying reasons like abusive parents/legal stuff/toxic ex/triggering memories/page got deleted/job/stalkers/bullying/[[insert any other shitty life thing]], This is not concerning that—personal safety & health ALWAYS comes first, and is worth more than any media ever could be. This is my biggest reason for defending that autonomy. I would be a hypocrite to say I hadn’t deleted triggering posts of mine or ones that got me in trouble with my family.)
it genuinely makes me sad and kinda upset when someone purges all their old art off the internet like. barring harmful content what if someone liked that. What if someone would have. And now nobody will ever know and it's just gone. even people's old invader zim askblogs or whatever getting deleted feels like a micro alexandria to me and that's just something I made up. I wasn't even thinking of a specific one it just stresses me out. Is this the autism I don't get why nobody else seems to freak internally abt it like I do. I see artists whose blogs I've never even looked at go like "man so glad I deleted all my old stuff it's so clean" or saying they throw out art from when they were kids I'm like. how are you not hurling. How is that not distressing that is literally your tree rings why would you do that. I want to see what's out there. people want to see it I promise someone out there likes it
...don't they??? Does everyone get quietly irrationally upset by this as me, or is this just hyperfixation/autism/some amalgam of the two. I'm not a hoarder or obsessive compulsive or anything like that so i wonder..
Anyways. reblog if you had a favorite amateur youtube animator in your childhood whose channel got nuked without a trace one day that you still think about.
I wanted to attach this video because it condenses my point very well. A TLDR of sorts. Please watch the whole thing, it genuinely changed the entire way I think about art as a concept.
(2nd vid is "Subjectivity in Art")
“The moment your art touches an audience, the ownership shifts in an irreversible way. [They're] not having an art experience with you and your intentions. They're having an art experience with the art object.
“You can't just burn your past; it's not even your past to burn anymore. It's other people's history as well. Whether or not you like it, that art is already bonded to somebody's soul, and if you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it.”
The digital age makes it very easy to distance or detach yourself from the impact your work has—be it art, fanfic, videos, even memes. Online content is as important to people now as any other media, if not more. But it's also by far the easiest, fastest, and most effective form of it to erase from public access. Media so unbelievably important to people and in general. Yes, you—with the 2010s purple sparkle dog speedpaint. I still think about that speedpaint all the time, because it was the first time i learned that you could draw on a computer, and I thought it was cool as hell. I still do.
I do wish there was a stronger culture of preservation and consideration for this, because every time I see people talk about snuffing their stuff because it doesn't personally resonate with them anymore, I just think ...what about all the people it did?
I've seen lots of people saying "get over it, it doesn't even matter," but it fucking does. It does matter. Even if I didn’t make it, even if I don’t have to deal with being the one who made it, even if I'm naturally inclined to be distressed by it—It still matters. And there’s nothing you could ever say to suddenly make it not matter, because there’s nothing you could ever say to make it not matter to me.
Don't devalue the act of creation. Don't dismiss something you made. It's out there, in people's thoughts and hearts and souls, and that is real. Even if you don't know it. Especially if you don't know it. Especially in a world where physical media is being snuffed out, the internet is constantly dying without any physical remains to recover, social isolation is rampant, and simply because independently produced content online is still media.
Fanfiction can hold equal or greater significance to someone as a book, but you can’t unpublish a book. Authors don’t have a button that can vaporize every copy of their work across all time, but fanfiction authors do. I’m not counting people who download fics either—when you buy a book, that transaction is over. But online, you have the power of unending transaction that can be terminated instantly at your will. The process of publishing fanfic vs. publishing a book may be different, but people’s connection to the art is the same intensity.
So yeah. I do get depressed about the Internet being a constant Alexandria, but the times I get the most depressed is when I click someone's page and see that all their work is gone because they're ‘curating a new aesthetic’ for their page or some shit. Or weeding out all the "ugly" art. Or just went on whatever the hell 'thrill deleting' is, because they just get a kick out of it.
Fuck it—yeah! It upsets me! I’m not wrong to say that. I’m saying it!
Under the cut, because it got long as shit! Also don’t worry the ending is way sappier and more ‘beauty of human nature’ vibe so it’s not all doom and gloom lol
What if that was someone's favorite art of that character. What if someone read that 'cringe oneshot' on the worst day of their life. What if that Warriors meme vid is still burned into a college student’s mind despite being gone for 10 years. What if it's actually not just you and the ones and zeros you rent out to the world—secure in knowing the original will always be on your computer for you to do whatever you want with it.
I really, deeply wish there was more of a general awareness of this, because even though social media can be used like a diary, that’s functionally the opposite of what it is. It’s social media. When you post, it’s no longer in a vacuum, even though you can’t see the real humans that content touches—often deeply.
Media is history. You shouldn’t burn that history just because you personally believe it isn’t worth saving.
Because it’s no longer just your personal opinion. It’s no longer just your personal work. it’s. history. Memory of media is not a suitable replacement for the media itself. If it was, we wouldn’t save anything at all. Nostalgia is an agent of that. The definition of nostalgia is grief for moments of the past that are inaccessible, and the biggest balm for that pain is accessing a physical reminder of those moments. That opinion of yours is no longer personal. It’s weighed against uncountable people across all time that your thing is ALSO personal to. People who would, and will mourn its absence.
How many times have you joined an older fandom only to discover that some of its most popular works are gone? How many times have you routed through random blogs looking for scraps people hopefully reblogged? how many times have you used Wayback machine desperately praying that a fan fiction or a YouTube video will be there? How many times do you look up crunchy old vines or YouTube videos or anime AMV‘s? How many times do you remember old fanfic.net sex that impacted you in middle school, only to shake your head and go ‘probably no point even looking.’
i mourn the absence. No, people can’t and shouldn’t have their agency over what they post revoked, but they should be conscious of that weight. If you’re reading this and getting extremely annoyed, and you’re not in the pink text above,,,, good.
I honestly do hope it gets under your skin. I hope it sits with you. I hope you feel it every time you hit that button, and whether or not you do hit that button—if you hesitate, if you remember this, even spitefully, I’ve done my job. I am howling into the void. And I may not want an answer, but I do want my anguish to be heard and remembered. Because it isn’t me just being melodramatic.
I know I sound that way writing so much, but if my favorite writing YouTuber can drop trow this week and go, "yeah, sorry, all my video essays from less than a year ago that you listen to in the car all the time? I'm "rebranding" my content so i deleted them. besides, my personal views don't really agree align with the analyses i did, or the techniques i taught in them anyway. Sorry if some of the literal tens of thousands of you used them, but I don't want to feel shackled to having youtuber "classics" tied to me”
….then i guess I'm just going to have to sound dramatic! That fucking sucks! Hours of work and knowledge gone! This was a new channel too. It’s very likely there’s no archive of any kind, because who would think someone who worked hard enough to write, record, and edit hour-long videos, would just turn around and nuke it all? I definitely didn’t see it coming, but I did just start a new screenwriting class a few weeks ago, so I’ll tell you at least one person is REALLY missing those fucking videos right now. Because a lot of them were about specifically screenwriting, which I know jack shit about. and that specific person’s pace, editing, and style of breaking down information was the best suited style I found that I could focus on and absorb. There’s no replacement for that. No alternative for his individual perspective. his jokes. his opinions.
No, they may not resonate with him now, but in this decision, he’s put up a big middle finger to everyone who might have. And he has like 100k subscribers! Those are confirmed supporters! Imagine how many silent and untethered observers are feeling this loss right now. Imagine how many will not have it in the future.
If he never posted them at all, we wouldn’t know we had it. It wouldn’t be a loss. But we did. We did have it. Until he decided that no, we didn’t, because he just happens to be the one out of millions of individuals holding the button to burn it in a hundredth of a second.
His personal work, the attachment I had to it, and the ways that it helped me are now just ripped away. I am one person out of millions, literal MILLIONS of people who saw and liked this content before it vanished. The soul has been ripped, the access severed, and by CJ’s (and my) definition, the art is functionally dead. Not for the YouTuber or anyone else lucky enough to save a link or download, but everyone else. From this point until the end of time, even if people even two weeks from now don’t know it. Even if someone who stumbles upon his channel today, doesn’t know it.
We only mourn the concept of Alexandria because we had some kind of scope for what was inside. Yes, maybe you got self-conscious and deleted your 12 year old deviant art account. Do you know who else is doing that?? THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS of other twenty somethings who ALSO feel self-conscious about their old socials. Art. Fanfic. One direction fan videos. anything.
Suddenly, an unquantifiable amount of information from your age group—an entire age group in 2012, is. gone. And we will NEVER know what’s been erased from that history. We will NEVER know what could have been significant to us ten years from now. Twenty years from now. A hundred years. A thousand.
You could have deleted a fanfic that would have been someone else’s new go-to panic attack distraction tomorrow. You could have deleted a video someone used to laugh at with their friend who died yesterday. When you delete something, you risk tearing a hole in unknowable personal histories.
The Internet isn’t just a big library of Alexandria. It’s a library containing libraries. And those libraries have their own libraries in those libraries have their own as well. libraries inside libraries, inside libraries, ad infinitum. To conceive the amount of destroyed history on the Internet is crushing.
And I just can’t help but I ask myself how in gods name people can choose to contribute to that, instead of reposting everything to trash heap alts titled “hall of shame” or some shit.
You can offload to alts. Put up disclaimers. Make password locked blogs, or dropboxes, or anonymous imgur dumps. Anonymous reuploads. Orphan fics. Make a playlist or linktree of unlisted videos. Cut off the watermarks. Delete all references to it on your main. Make a dedicated unlisted playlist. make a google drive. Make new portfolio sites. Delete any questions you get about it. Change pen names. Pretend it never existed.
Give a heads up.
Something.
But don’t. kill. the media.
The knowledge that our stuff is going to forever be tied to us is a cross we have to bear, but the responsibility that comes with putting it out there in the first place, can’t be ignored.
Anyway. I'm not trying to start conflict. This is not a bash on anyone, nor a call for witch hunts. Or anon hate, or blocks and unfollows or anything of that nature. I'm not wishing ramifications or hate of any kind on anyone who does wants to do any of this.
I'm also not guilt tripping— I am not saying that you should feel bad. I AM saying why it makes me feel bad. That’s not guilting, it’s a dialogue. One I personally feel is long overdue.
It's me yelling into the void: please consider the real people on the other side of the screen before you hit that button. Realize and know that whatever you're about to erase from history could be the most important thing in the world to someone.
Art is an experience. It's why we revisit it. If art and history simply lived in the matter and code of media, we would only need to look at it once. We wouldn’t put things in museums. We wouldn’t build libraries. We wouldn’t look up vine compilations.
If you're able, consider (and I do mean consider, this is not a call to action) not destroying that. And don’t shrug it off as some pretentious asshole venting on Tumblr. You only need to look in the notes and tags to see that it isn’t just me. it’s never just me, or you, or the pixels.
And even if you do shrug it off, then at least recognize that what you make matters. Whatever you think about it, if it’s out there, that's not your discretion anymore. If a tree falls in the woods and even one person is around to see it, it fucking mattered. Because it happened. Don’t mulch your tree rings if you don’t have to. Because if enough people do it, a whole forest is gone. Media is history, no matter whether you think it’s worth putting in a museum, or only has 30 notes.
Thousands of years ago, a child named onfim doodled on his homework. They’re crude, and everyone has the wrong amount of fingers, and they’re also priceless archaeological artifacts recognizable throughout the world.
the only thing separating Onfim’s doodles and your MS paint Pokémon doodles is time. The only thing separating your old MS paint Pokémon doodles from being a priceless artifacts, thousands of years in the future is time. Your creations are already priceless artifacts. No matter what you do, don't ever, ever deny that. It isn’t blowing up your own ass, it’s artistic and anthropological fact.
The mundane and the supposedly unworthy are often the first things lost to time, and that’s why they’re so precious. That’s why artists who were before their time are scorned first only to be celebrated later. Do you think they knew that was going to happen?? What if they nuked it? Many probably did! But now that’s happening exponentially and instantaneously everywhere, WITHOUT the artist having to destroy their only copy—which makes it way easier and more dismissable.
Sometimes, If you’re revolutionary enough, people will make an effort to preserve your work, but recognized and thoroughly recorded work is rare compared to unrecognized and thoroughly recorded work.
Sometimes something is beloved enough that it would be impossible for it not to go down in history, but even then it isnt a guarantee, and it’s rare. But if van Gogh burned all of his paintings in a fit of despair before his death, we would have no van Gogh. Because he wasn’t respected as an artist in his time, but that wasn’t what defined the worth of his art. The people after him did, because his art was still there for them.
If you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it. If you belittle your art, you belittle the very real relationships and emotions and revisitations people have with the media. You defy the inherent worth and weight of a creation. you created. That's effort. It's passion. No matter how flippant or unskilled or worthless you think it is, it matters. Because at the end of the day, you could have chosen to make nothing at all, and you didn't.
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deadsetobsessions · 4 months
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Of all the places he could have been summoned to, Danny Phantom had never considered a private school’s bathroom to be one of them.
With glowing green skin, a shock of flickering flames for hair, and a suit made out of the spaces between collapsing stars, Danny stared down at the stupefied faces of Gotham Academy’s finest students. One of them had their face in their hands, having caught sight of him and undergoing all the stages of grief in but a moment.
They sat around a circle that he was appropriately impressed with considering the limited space they had to work with. Danny could see the empty stalls, some of which were adorned with drawings and writings that were left by the, no-doubt, extremely busy caretaker.
“Seriously, a bathroom?” Danny wrinkled his nose.
“Holy shit, that actually worked?” One of the kids blurted out, then slammed their hands on top of their mouth.
“Did you expect it not to?” Danny squinted at them, frowning. It’s Friday, so it’s not like he had much to do, but Danny would prefer it if his time wasn’t wasted.
“No- no, your… uh, highness?”
“All of that schooling and you’re still uneducated,” one of the other ones hissed at the red headed kid who spoke. It’s “Your Majesty.” He’s a king, idiot!”
That was a pretty solid burn but, “It’s actually just Phantom. Did you guys want something? I’m busy.”
He’s not busy, but who cares?
“Uh…” the kids exchanged glances. The one in the back sighed and spoke up. He adjusted his glasses.
“We’re sorry for bothering you, Phantom. You wouldn’t happen to have a solution for dimensional separation, would you?”
“Huh.” Danny tilted his head, face souring. “I hate dimensional issues. They’re the worst. Who’s causing them?”
“His name’s Klarion!” The one who slapped a hand across his mouth earlier piped up.
“Oh! The lords of chaos or whatever. Yeah, I can help, for a price.”
Danny is against unpaid labor. Extremely against it, considering his side gig is being a half-dead vigilante. Then again, are you really a vigilante if you’re not half dead on a regular basis?
“What do you want?” Despite the reluctance from earlier, it’s clear the one with the glasses made the big decisions in this weird friend group.
“… A hundred dollars.”
“That’s it? No stipulations?” When Danny nodded, the kid had a calculating expression. “Deal.” The teen said immediately. He pulled out cash and wow, Danny’s definitely in a place with a different tax bracket.
He snatched it. Nasty burger money!
“Deal’s a deal. Also, don’t ever summon me again, but if you do, don’t ever do it in a bathroom again. You kids are so weird.” Danny floated out of the circle, grinning sharply. He formed a small bird- he doesn’t know why, but it felt right- of ice and handed it to the kid with glasses. “There. Proof of the deal.”
With that, Danny disappeared. Private school kids were so fucking weird, but… Dash and his goons were probably worse. What’s a little ritualistic summoning in the face of teenagers?
——
“I leave you guys alone for ten minutes and you summon the king of the dead?” Robin narrowed his eyes at his teammates, traitors who had the good graces to look sheepish. “How could you?! I wanted to try, too!”
Kid Flash patted him on the shoulder, a granola bar appearing in his mouth now that the possible world ending terror disappeared. “Sorry, Rob. Maybe next time! Magic still isn’t real though.”
“I’m not doing this shit in a bathroom again,” Artemis rolled back to her feet. “He sounded like he was going to rip our bones out if we ever summoned him in a bathroom again.”
“Ugh…”
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fairy-hub · 7 months
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𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨; 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mean/angry nerd!switch!choso, hate fucking/academic rivals, Daddy/brat, biting, degradation/mocking, two pussy slaps, a hint of oral/fingering for some prep, pain kink, begging, just the tip, choking, light fem dom!reader, biting, hair pulling/dragging, mirror sex, full nelson, squirting
Oreo: @arminsumi @vampress7 lets all be delulu over nerd!choso, normal choso could and would never be so mean. I stand by that but this is nerd!choso Au whose done with your shit even if you are right! 🤤
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“You’re such an annoying brat correcting me in class.” Choso grabs your arms pinning them above your head. Stuffing his thigh between your legs. Grinding your hips, your soft clit perfectly rubbing on his thick thigh.
Fighting the urge to groan. “If you weren't wrong, I wouldn't have to-!” Choso shuts you up with a rough kiss, biting your bottom lip. Slipping his tongue past when you cry.
Squeezing your neck, pulling away, smirking down at you. “Say something now, do anything other than grind your clit on my thigh like a pretty dirty whore.” Glaring up at him, unable to stop yourself. It feels to go to rock your clothed cunt on his clothed thigh.
Sneering, “If only the class knew what a pathetic whore you are. Glaring up at me like you won't beg for my cock.” It’s going straight to your needy cunt the way Choso is looking down at you with such angry hunger.
Moving his thigh from between yours. Roughly unbutton your pants, yanking them down your thighs with your underwear Curling two thick fingers into your cunt. “Already stupidly wet for me, nnn can't believe such a pretty cunt belongs to such a brat.” Letting go of your neck, crouching down ripping your pants down the rest of the way.
“Aw Choso Kamo is mad 'cause I’m right! Doesn't matter how much of a stupid cock drunk slut your fat cock makes me it won't change that!” Slapping your clit and cunt repeatedly. Slapping your hand over your mouth, muffling your cries from the sweet sting.
Biting your stomach, gliding two thick fingers. You grab a fistful of his dark hair tugging till he whines. Your sloppy wet cunt quivers around Choso's thick fingers from the beautiful sound. “Annoying brat.” Propping your thigh on his broad shoulder, shoving his face towards your clit.
“Shut up and suck my clit.” Biting your thigh, pumping his thick fingers faster. Massaging your sweet spot, licking your soft clit. Groaning into your cunt, grabbing your hip digging in his nails.
Squirming grinding your hips, swiping your clit on his pierced tongue. Curling from your toes from the sweet pressure of his hard bar. “Fuck you for being so damn beautiful with my cunt on your face.” Sloppily sucking on your soft clit, groaning getting off in the soft squelching of his finger sinking into your sloppy wet cunt.
Gliding his fingers out, slipping your thigh off his shoulder standing up. Unbuttoning his dark pants, pushing them down, kicking them to the side. “No underwear? Figures why everyone could see the fat outline of your cock when you were in front of the class.”
Picking up his beautiful cock. Biting your lip, stroking your clit, you love the way he’s so fat and heavy he hangs. He smirks looking down at you, trapping your head between his large hands.
Grabbing his cock touching stroking your clit. “I knew you were lookin’ n you lied sayin’ you weren't.” He groans when you slide your side lips along his cock, smearing slick into his cock head. Helping you stroke your clit better.
“Fuck you, you didn't deserve the satisfaction after being wrong. You should have studied better I'm disappointed in you can I even think of you as a rival after that.” Biting Choso’s tattoo of black flowers and dark green leaves and thorny vines.
The large garden covers most of his body. Hiding scars you’ve memorized the placement of. You hate him so much, yet you know his body better than your own.
Tracing over the one above his heart. Kissing the bite mark. “Please you know you’re going to be thinking about seeing me in class tomorrow. Let’s see how good your essay is, if I think it’s less than 96 you’re not cumming.” Grabbing your hair pulling your head back.
Looking up at him, siding your hand down from his thick hard pecs to his sculpted abs. “Fuck whatever stupid grading system you have it's rigged. You just want to hear me beg.” Stepping back, taking away his thick, warm cock on your soft clit.
Choso leads you from his living room into the hallway with a firm grasp on your hair. “Damn right, I want to hear you beg for this cock. Watch yourself, see what a dumb slut I fuck ya into.” Letting go, shoving you into his bathroom, grabbing your arm, and twisting you to face the mirror. Bending you over, lifting your ass up in the air.
Grabbing the counter. Admiring Choso in the mirror. His broad chest, thick arms, and slim waist. “I want to be fucked dumb by your fat cock.” Lining his thick cock up gliding in just his fat cock head.
Suspended in the air with only his tip in you, you look so desperate begging. "Please fuck me with your fat cock, I don't want to think of anything else. Wanna be your pretty dumb cock sleeve." Gliding his cock out, slapping himself on your lips.
Clenching with every wet smack, lining himself back up gliding only his fat tip into you. His fat head alone stretching your cunt feels too damn good. "Please fuck my bratty attitude outta me, make me your mindless cum stuffed slut. NNn." Roughly pulling you back to meet his harsh thrust, stuffing you full of his cock.
Loudly moaning, "Fuck me!" Choso grabs your hair, yanking you upright. Wrapping an arm around his neck. Choso slips his arms underneath your legs, folding you in half. Bouncing you in time with his hard, quick thrusts.
Stroking your sweet spot before stirring your guts up. "That's what I thought it's ok ya can moan you are my stupid pretty slut." Slipping his arm across your body, trapping both your legs over his thick forearm.
You're tightly pinned, knees to your chest watching your cunt get stuffed. Getting off on how Choso needs one arm to support you. Stroking your clit whining from the sweet toe-curling pleasure, clenching his fat cock. "Nnn daddy please!"
"Daddy? Already is it that good? Like seeing how your cunt is making a perfect circle from how fat my cock is." Steadily stroking your soft clit. Over the months of ending up in his apartment he's perfected playing with your clit.
You couldn't do it better yourself anymore. Couldn't cum this hard that your eyes are rolling back, body trembling, jaw-dropping. Your thick slick dripping down Choso's balls, some of your squirt splashing onto his counter.
Forgetting everything but getting fucked stupid on Choso's fat, veiny cock. “Ya cummin' so much for me, thought ya hated me but look at you. Giving me those love sick eyes." You don't have the mind to protest.
Choso smirks, "I might be second in class but I'm still your Daddy. No one else can fuck ya like I can look at ya already a stupid drooling brat.”
Oreo creampie’s m.list
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dante-mightdie · 2 months
Note
A small req? Wheree we're a milf and our incel son eventually joins the military (you choose if he joins the military or meets at a bar I ain't gaf) and meets Ghost, 141 whatever. He brings Ghost home to his basement room(or the 141 bb do whatever you want) and ghost is surprised n shi that we this incel momma when we com with snacks or something like 'get outta here mom you're embarrassing me Infront of my new friends!" Is our sons reaction or sum. And ghostie pookie excuses himself up to the bathroom to sloppily makeout with us 🥺
nobody look at me i’m foaming at the mouth
c/w: simon is kinda strange but in a weird sexy way, mentions of misogyny, talks of sex must no actual smut, housewife kink kinda
it’s no secret that your son is a nasty little misogynistic shit. everyone on base has had the experience of standing next to him on a night as out when he gets a drink thrown in his face by whatever girl is he was chatting to
they’d been there every time he dogs out in front of everyone when you visit him on base. watching your eyes well up when your son tells you that he doesn’t like your new haircut or dress, that you’re too old to wear stuff like that
simon tried not to judge, appearances can be deceiving. perhaps you’re not all smiles and baked goods, maybe you’re an awful mother behind the scenes. he really tried. until he found out the real reason your son treats you like shit…
“she made my dad leave. he told me after they divorced that she wasn’t giving him what he needed, that’s why he had to go and get it somewhere else.” your son finally admitted one night after going through half case of beer
simon felt his hand tighten around his bottle as your son continued to ramble about how you were always busy with shit jobs. waitressing, cleaning or retail. he spent most of his childhood never getting all the latest toys and clothes because you could never afford it, too busy catching up on late bills to make sure there was a roof over both of your heads
“she’s so selfish.”
‘fuck being non-judgmental’ simon thinks. this kid doesn’t know how lucky he is. having a such a lovely mum like you, never losing your patience with your son even when he treats you like dirt. always trying to greet him with a hug or kiss just for him to push you away. begging him to call when he’s away just so you can know your boy is safe :(
“sounds like your mad at your mum for being the one that stuck around, lad.” price buts in, shaking his head with a small laugh.
you had been a topic of discussion the night after your first visit to the base. the product of a few glasses of bourbon shared between simon and john
“did you see the new recruits mother? fuckin’ hell, if I were 10 years younger I’d be all over that.” price admitted, adjusting his hips as he leaned back in his desk chair. simon let out a small grunt of agreement, having thought about this since he first laid eyes on you
simon had come to the conclusion that you both just needed a good man in your life. your son needed a father figure that would actually stick around, he could tell by the way your son looks up to him and the captain, eager to impress them
and you. oh, you. with your sweet, simple dresses and adoring smile. simon wishes you’d smile at him like that. all that cooking that your son lets go to waste could go to him instead. you could cook his favourite dinners for him and take care of his house whilst he’s away at work, whipping the boy into shape. teaching him every thing that your sack of shit ex-husband clearly didn’t
he’d be so good to you too. he knows it’s been a while since you’ve had a man to take care of your needs. he sees the way you nearly drool as you watch him running laps around the field, tatted arms on display. he’d spit you open so nicely on his cock and he knows you’d take him so well too, your pretty cunt would he creaming all over him
he soon takes advantage of this knowledge, subtly convincing your son to invite him over to your home on leave. dropping some story about how his flat is getting some work done and that he only lives 20 minutes from you both. your son was quick to offer the lieutenant a place to stay, telling him that he could take your room. that you could sleep on the couch for a couple weeks.
‘we’ll share the bed.’ simon thinks, but he doesn’t dare say it to your sons face. can’t have this little brat meddling with his plan
his arrival is clearly a surprise to you from the way you rush about shortly afterwards to start scrubbing the house top to bottom, rattling off apologies about the state of everything. simon quickly shuts down any offer of him taking your bedroom
“keep your bed, love. I’ll take the sofa.” he grumbles, sipping the tea that you made for him whilst your son rolls his eyes from the other side of the kitchen
he can see the way your eyes look at him with this longing. he knows it won’t take much to get you into bed. poor thing that hasn’t had anyone to look after her for years
he spends the next few days proving to you that he can provide. helping you carry anything heavy, drying the dishes after you’ve watched them, fixing the handy jobs around the house
you’re constantly praising him, focusing your love and attention towards him instead of your ungrateful son and the boy hates it. which is just the cherry on top, simon thinks
“your mother is so lucky to have a son like you. you must help her around the house all the time!” you coo, fidgeting with your skirt
“my mum passed away… jus’ me left out of the whole family.” simon admits, solemnly
“you poor thing, I’m so sorry. you’re welcome here anytime…” you gasp softly, placing your delicate hand on his arm and squeezing the muscle of his bicep gently and simon is ashamed to say it made his cock twitch against his thigh
“thank you, sweetheart… such a lovely girl, aren’t you?” he smiles behind his mask, reaching over and wrapping his arm around your waist. he pulls you against him, putting one hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as he hoists you up onto the kitchen counter
he squeezes his large frame inbetween your spread legs, leaning forward to look into your widened eyes
“been so good to me, love. taking care of me. such a good mum to your son, ya just need a good man to be a wife to, don’t you?” he says, pushing your skirt up your lap and revealing your thighs to him
he feels your thighs squeeze his waist, an aroused reaction from you. your body slumps into his with a natural submission that makes his cock ache. he lowers his hand and hooks his mask over his nose, revealing the scar running over his lip
“s’alright, darling. ‘m here to look after you now. me, you and the boy will be a nice happy family, yeah?” he says with a small smirk. leaning forward to mould his lips against yours before you can answer
he hears the little whimper you let out as you kiss him back, a little sloppy and inexperienced from years of being single, too busy with your son and work to date
but that’s okay because simon’s here now. ready to claim his family.
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6esiree · 18 days
Text
“Oh, so your fingers worked when they were inside of me last night, but today they can’t text me back?”
I saw this on Instagram and tried to imagine how my five fav Hazbin men would react if you texted them this. I whipped this up pretty quickly so sorry if it’s crap, LOL <3
Alastor:
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Alastor only has a phone so you can contact him whenever you need to, and he usually answers right away. But the one time he doesn’t because he’s out with Rosie, you decide to hit him up with this and he’s visibly horrified, flustered even, when he finally reads it.
“Is something the matter, Alastor?” Rosie asks, putting her teacup down as she notices the look on his face. “Oh my! Are you…blushing?”
“Excuse me for just a second,” Alastor says as he stiffly stands up, pushing his seat in and turning away, furiously typing at his phone.
“I am with Rosie. We will talk about this when I get home, understood?”
“Ok, I’ll be waiting for u <3.”
“Kiss your legs goodbye, mon chéri, because you will be unable to walk for a while.”
Lucifer:
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Whenever you go out, you like to text Lucifer to see how he’s doing. This man answers FAST as fuck, that is why the one time he doesn’t you hit him up with this, trying to get his attention. When he finally checks his phone his heart instantly drops—I mean, what is he supposed to feel? He’s a blushing mess as he recalls what you did last night, but he’s also panicking, so he decides to call you.
“Hey, honey! I’m so, so sorry, I was in the middle of something,” Lucifer says, trying not to stutter, but you can still hear the nervousness in his voice. “My fingers work just fine, by the way, I can show you if you come back home—“
“Christ, Luci! I was just trying to get you to answer.”
“Pretty please?”
Husk:
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Husk takes his sweet ass time responding to your texts, so the best way to reach him is to call him. However, it’s just one of those rare occasions where you can’t call him, that’s why you hit him up with this to try to get his attention. Husk has company at the bar, so when he finally sees your text he immediately turns his back to everybody, cursing under his breath as he tries to adjust himself through his pants.
“Oh, babydoll. Just wait until you get home,” Husk texts you back, pissed off but also slightly amused, especially when you answer him.
“Haha, ok…whatever u say old man :P.”
“You’re lucky Angel can't mind his own fucking business, otherwise I’d have something to say about that.”
Vox:
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Unless he’s busy with something or he’s pissed off with you, Vox will answer your texts right away. The one time he forgets to tell you he has a meeting, you hit him up with this after trying to reach him for a while. Vox steals a glance at his phone and this is how he reacts to it in his head, his screen slightly glitching when he’s asked to put in his two cents about something because he’s flustered. As soon as the meeting is over with, though, he teleports to your room, utterly embarrassed.
“I was in a MEETING! What in the Hell were you thinking?”
“Hey, I didn’t know that, I swear!”
“Yeah, yeah, now come over here, sweetheart. I'll show you that my fingers work just fine.”
Adam:
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Adam is 50/50 when it comes to answering your texts. Sometimes he’ll answer quickly, and sometimes he won’t, which can be frustrating. When you hit him up with this, it’s one of those times that he’s taking hours to see your texts, even leaving you on read when he finally opens them because his memory is shit. Adam is out with Lute, his eyes bugging out of his head when he decides to check his phone. I mean, hey, what’s up with that?
“Sir? Where are you going?” Lute asks him, watching him spread his wings, but Adam doesn’t answer, leaving before she can notice his boner.
“Hey, what the fuck is wrong with you? You gave me a boner in public, you stupid—!”
“Well, start answering your texts then, Adam! And don't you dare finish that sentence, or no sex for a week.”
“I'm so sorry, baby. I love you so much and I will answer your texts right away from now on.”
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gh0stsp1d3r · 7 days
Note
nah cause all i can think abt it rafe being an absolute DICKHEAD to everyone but you. like he 180 changes when ur around and it completely baffles everyone.
OOOOH yes. everyone tellin you “he’s a dickhead, I don’t get why you’re with him.” And youre like “wdym? he’s the sweetest boy ever.” because you nd him and literally like this everyday
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his friends hate it sm. I imagine it would go something like this
🪷 ꪆৎ 🕊️‧₊˚♡︎
Everywhere Rafe went, you followed. His friends never had the balls to say anything and just let it happen.
At parties, he was drinking and leaning in his chair, talking to Barry, who currently smoked a joint. A man sat in front of them, offering them an amount of money for the gold from the cross.
Rafe shook his head at the offer.
“That all?” Rafe asked him, unamused.
“I mean,” the dude scoffed. “How much would you take for it?”
“This bar is at least 5 grand. If you don’t got the money, fuckin’ stop wasting my time.”
“How is that five grand?”
Rafe rolled his eyes, irritated as he shut the case the gold was kept it. “Yo, what the fuck did I just say? Stop wasting my time. Get the fuck out.” He nodded, the man scoffing and shaking his head, standing up and walking away.
Rafe seemed irritated, his eyebrows furrowed and his face rested in an annoyed expression. That was until he glanced up and saw you walking towards him.
The man that had tried to buy the gold pushed past you, making you furrow your eyebrows at his rudeness.
Rafe had seen it, his irritation and anger bubbling once again. You just shrugged it off as you continued your stride to your boyfriend.
And he saw your bubbly demeanor, bouncing around happily as you walked towards him with the sweetest smile. He melted, the corners of his lips twisting up to form a smile. You fell into his lap, clearly drunk as you slurred out his name happily, hiding your face in his shoulder.
“Hey, baby.” He mumbled softly and quietly, hands rubbing circles on your legs.
Barry raised his eyebrows at Rafe, Rafe motioning for him to leave, his old glare back before he turned his attention back to you.
“You tired?” He asked you quietly.
“Yeah. Wanna go home, Rafey.” You whined and complained. And with anyone else, the nickname would have had someone 6 feet under.
“Alright. We’ll go home. Lemme just clean up here, Kay’?” He patted your ass softly, gently getting you off his lap.
“‘Kay.” You mumbled tiredly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and waiting, but before he could even turn around to you, you were fast asleep on the couch.
He sighed, shaking his head and smiling again to himself.
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horrorartsworld · 4 months
Note
Hi, I saw your posts and I liked them, so I thought I'll make a request, Adam x fem Reader smut, Adam fucks Lucifer's wife so he can get revenge on Lucifer and Lucifer ends up finding out
OOOOOOO spicy spicy. lemme see what i can do >:)
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷
revenge is sweet
adam/lucifer’s demon wife f!reader
warnings: 18+ nsfw BE WARNED OOOHOHOOO
nsfw part two with lucifer !!
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As you lie in bed you couldn’t help but realize how distant your husband has truly been these last few months.
Never really answering your calls, waking up in the morning with him not laying beside you, hardly ever going on dates or just spending quality time together, and more importantly you’ve haven’t had sex in a hot minute.
It was all just adding up over the course of time and you didn’t want to seem like you weren’t being understanding to his needs since he was the overlord of hell after all and there were many times he was needed to help Charlie with the hotel, but you needed your fair share of attention too.
In which you weren’t getting at all this very moment.
Thrashing around in your bed you start to get fed up with these pointless thoughts making you finally sit up rather annoyed. Not helping the fact that your eyes immediately gravitate to your phone snatching it off the dresser to see if he’s even bothered messaging you, not one peep.
Grumbling you jump out of bed as you stomped your way into your closet to put something sexy on to wear out. Dressing yourself in a short black dress that fit nicely around the waist, fishnets underneath and some boots to match. This was usually something you’d wear before you met Luci, but now was not the time to dwell on old things as you looked at yourself in the mirror watching your pointed tail thrash behind you feeling very pleased with yourself and outfit.
Not shortly after you were out the door and walking down the streets of Hell looking for anything to fuck up or a place to drown your sorrows at the bottom of a bottle with this new found energy in you. Then bingo you finally approach it….a flashy new night club that must’ve just opened about a week ago. Seeming to be a little too close to the outskirts of heaven for your comfort, but you tried to not pay it much mind as the neon lights were calling your name.
Once you walk in the whole place is alive and packed. Music is blaring and dancers are dancing, everyone’s having the time of their lives, but you couldn’t shake this weird feeling as you noticed what looked like angels dressed in revealing clothing taking demons back to the establishments private rooms. This had to be some sick joke you just happened to walk in on that you wanted absolutely no part of.Quickly putting your hood on to conceal some of your identity in hopes to go unnoticed by anyone around since you were the overlords second wife after all and would hate to have something like this get back to him.
Strolling up to the bar you order the strongest drink they got, downing it within seconds before you were given another one and downing that one too, impressing some of the patrons sat beside you who looked they had measly drinks compare to yours. 
You softly chuckle to yourself before looking off at one of the dancers getting money thrown at them lost in thought, that you quickly got snapped out of when the doors of the club were snatched open and as if a large flashlight was shinned inside the dimly lit club revealing all of its nasty secrets, none other than the purest of pure himself, Adam, had strolled in.
“Oh shit…” you grimace knowing damn well if he saw you he’d make your life a living hell as if you weren’t already living in it. As you try to scoot away to a more inconspicuous spot in the club away from the utter chaos commencing and raunchy comments you feel a shameful tug at the end of your tail making your body freeze instantaneously.
“Well well well…why look at what we have here~” his voice having a more sinful touch to it as he started reeling you in closer to him by your tail till your back was pressed against his chest.
“Adam…this isn’t the time or the place…” you hiss trying to pull your tail away that he had rather a firm grip on.
“Ohhh come on my nasty little vixen…you know we have history that runs DEEP…if you know what i mean~” the annoying slickness in his voice was surprisingly making your thighs quiver as he playfully thrusted against your behind after implying the ‘deep’ past you two shared. Your mind was scrabbling with both the booze and his words mixing in making it hard for you to even think straight though the feeling deep in your core was enough to make your emotions quite clear.
“T-that was a long time ago…i-i’m changed now~” Not controlling the stammer in your voice as he tugs down your hood revealing your demon like features as you hurriedly try to pull the hood back up letting Adam get a glimpse of your wedding ring.
He scoffs as a more pissed off look contorted on his face grabbing your hand now roughly taking a look at the big diamond decorating your ring finger. “Don’t tell me you married that fucking loser..”
You flinched as he mentioned him, knowing better than anyone about their long and ongoing rivalry as you just so happened to be one of the main factors of it.
Being one of Adam’s number one girls and then getting the boot not shortly after and to have Lucifer pick up all the pieces was bringing too many feelings back that you just tried to get rid of and now they were knocking down your door once more.
“So, what if i did…it’s not like you ever had the balls” you taunt snatching your hand back.
“Oh honey i have the balls…and the dick…it’s just your choice if you want ether one of them~”
It took everything in your power right then in there not to slap him with that now smug look playing back on his face. “You’re still so insufferable”
“Just the way you like it sweet cheeks~”
“Please don’t call me that” You huff facing away from him and towards the bar once more as you then feel the pressure of his hard-on against your ass.
“C’mon i’m just having a little fun….and i think someone else wants to too~” He mutters huskily amongst your ear so only the two of you could hear as he embarrassingly started rocking his hips against your ass.
You turn hastily as you begin pushing him towards one of the private rooms, getting suspicious looks from club goers as you then slam the door locking it.
“What the fuck was that Adam?!” You shout with your horns growing and tail thrashing rather quickly.
He shrugs trying to act harmless now as if he wasn’t just dry humping you infront all those people.
“It got us alone didn’t it?” a smirk forming on his lips as he walks over to you looking down with a hint of mischief in his eye that always made you melt on the spot like it was doing right now.
Your morals wanting to play a big role so badly in this situation but something inside you didn’t want to stop as he let his fingers tease off your jacket making it fall to the ground with a thud.
Breath hitching as he pulls you closer, lips just a few tantalizing inches apart as he looks down at them and then back at you before whispering, “I’m gonna fuck you like he never could.”
Then his lips were hungrily on you in a messy tongue kiss, mouths clashing together as his hands found their way to your ass giving it a nice squeeze before turning the two of you around and making your way to the bed.
The backs of your knees catching the end of it causing you to fall back with him falling on top of you never breaking the kiss as you start to undo his robe letting your delicate fingers playfully rub against his skin making him shiver before the robe was completely discarded with much haste.
Along with your dress not far after but he kept your fishnets on seeing your panties through them seemed to be doing something for him as he broke the kiss cursing under his breath as he turned you around with your ass poking up.
“Such a fucking slut aren’t you?”
He sends a nice slap against your ass causing a mewl to escape your lips in response as a red hand print started to form along your precious skin.
Not being able to pull his gaze away from the sight as he sent another slap against your ass watching you grip the sheets infront of you as your tail flicked up and against his chest with another mewl coming from you. He chuckled lowly to himself noticing the wet patch starting to form along your panties all by chest spanking your ass like he was.
“You’re such a nasty girl aren’t you, getting spanked by someone who isn’t your husband~” he asks again stroking his own ego though it just turned you on more, he suddenly ripped open your fishnets along with your panties with such sudden strength making you gasp as the coolness of the air hit your exposed wetness.
He gently stroked two digits along your sweet folds smearing the slick along them as it causes you bits of pleasure making your tail wrap around his wrist to keep him going.
Though his fingers went away once you did making you pout as he then suddenly wrapped a hand around your tail raising your ass somewhat in the air as he slapped it with the other once again.
“That’s a bad girl…using your tail to make me go faster~” he tuts watching as you wither underneath him as you were helpless with your tail in his grasp like this.
“m- sorry~” you say softly almost pleadingly with your need so obviously infront of him.
“Atta girl baby…saying sorry to the one who really owns you~” he senses your urgency and he can practically see the drip of your pussy infront of him making his dick twitch in the confines of his boxers.
A low growl comes from him behind you as he continues to keep a strong hold on your tail as the point flicks in his fist and quickly pulls out his dick without wasting time to position himself at your entrance as pushes himself inside you not giving you a moment to adjust as he bottoms out.
Whining uncomfortably at his size as he starts to set a slow and deliberate pace, savoring the sensation of your tight body enveloping him.
“Shhhh you can take it~” he encourages as he leans down capturing one of your horns in his other hand pulling you back to kiss along your neck as he arched your back for you with his hold. The angle was hitting a certain spot inside of you it was making it more pleasurable to the point you were seeing stars as he then increased his pace. His thrusts becoming more possessive and greedy in his attempts to claim you from that bastard.
Your moans were confirming this making his thrusts quicken in pace just to hear every one of those noises come out of you. Making you get closer to your release already, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer ether as he pushed as many out as he could before you were clamping down on him.
A loud cry rippling out of your throat as your body spasmed against him as the ecstasy fueled your veins. “That’s it….cum for me…know who owns this pussy~”
Feeling the intoxicating tightness of your walls milking his cock and the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his own body, Adam couldn’t take it any longer to hold back and with his own loud groan, he releases himself inside you, filling you up nicely with his warmth.
He didn't care if he came inside of you, he wanted him to know exactly who marked his territory here and who rightfully owned you no matter the marital status. 
Adam falls beside you laying on his back with his hands behind his head, quite happy with himself as you crawl up to cuddle against him.
As you lay there for a moment against Adam’s chest catching your breath you hear a foreign noise of buzzing coming from next to you repeatedly.
Looking down at your phone to your surprise to see almost 50+ miss calls and texts from Lucifer.
You curse under your breath as you pick all your things up and hurriedly put your clothes back on. Managing to struggle putting your dress back on almost tripping and falling all the while Adam watches you from the bed with the covers only covering his bottom half as he was laid out like he wanted to be painted like a french girl with a shit-eating grin plastered along his face.
“Awww does the big man want you back already?”
Scuffing as you didn’t really want to hear any more of his smartass mouth you left heading back to you and Lucifer’s home.
——————
Later that night you feel the warmth spread in your cheeks as you did your best to avoid eye contact with your husband as he was pacing in your shared bedroom wondering where the hell you’ve been and babbling on and on about how he’s been worried sick, until you blurted out about your whereabouts.
Immediately regretting it as the words slipped from your mouth.
“HE DID WHAT?!”
Rubbing the back of your arm sheepishly as you stood there watching Lucifer’s eyes turn red as his demon form became more prominent, teeth snarling as he came closer to you. “Well….hehe…we’ll just have to fix that, won’t we my love?” danger laced in his voice as he closed the space between you two.
“oh i’m fucked.”
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vanderilnde · 1 month
Text
cw for kidnapping and emotional manipulation
-
Ghost spots a bird across the pub with her wings clipped. She trembles as she watches her friend disappear into the sea of gyrating bodies, holding onto a man she just met and is deciding to abandon her for.
“You don’t mind, right?” Her friend had asked.
She chirped ditheringly. “Um… sure, yeah. You go have fun.”
A fickle smile split her cheeks. A warm wash of liquid glossed her eyes.
Ghost watches her watching her friend. Sadness is written into her features. That type of sadness so deep-seated you feel it crushing your ribs, denting your heart. She sighs and hangs her head, staring down at her drink. Her ice cube has melted, the salt crusting her rim having hardened. Her shoulder start to shake.
Ghost decides it would be remiss of him to not check up on her. The bird with frilly feathers and bent wings, wounded, too feeble to fight back.
He throws back the rest of his drink. He doesn’t wince at the burn, but still, Ghost’s face puckers into something different. Something mean as he approaches her and lays his elbow on the bar’s sticky countertop, splitting his hand across the top of her spine.
“What’s a bird like you doin’ all alone?”
She girdles. It’s like she’s been folded in two and hung out to dry, the way she shrinks into herself and flexes her shoulders.
His words hang stagnant for a few seconds. Perhaps it will make him lose interest and slip away, but Ghost is a persistent one. The badges embroidered into his uniform are a testament to that.
He passes his thumb over her neck. She shivers.
“I… um. Well, my boyfriend’s in the bathroom.”
Ghost almost chuckles. The bird says it with such skittish conviction that surely, not even she believes it.
He grunts. “It’s rude to lie, y’know.”
She gulps. “My friend’s with me.”
“The one that just left you?” He asks. “A pretty shit friend, if you ask me. A bird like you deserves someone better.”
She purses her lips because they begin to quiver. She tries shouldering him away, tries blinking back the fat tears of brine that threaten to thaw and slip down her cheek. Her voice is distorted with discomfort and self-pity when she replies, “That’s stupid. I just want her to be happy.”
“And her?” Ghost prompts. He distracts her with his rough lilt as he slips his hand low, into the divot between her ass and waist. “How often does she fuck off with the men you fancy?“
She flinches. It’s the sudden recoil of her muscles, and her mind’s attempt at getting away from him.
“I-it’s not like that.”
“Yeah?” He asks. “It’s not like she leaves you alone every time you go out, lookin’ like a dolt when she finds someone more fun?”
She swallows thickly. Her lips warble around her next words. “… Sometimes, I guess.”
Ghost’s cock jumps. The fat mass pushes against his jeans, angled towards her.
“Yeah,” he croons. “I know how hard it can be. Why don’t you come over to my flat, huh? Give ‘er a taste of her own medicine.”
She inches away. Ghost only holds her tighter, gripping that broken little wing of hers and doting on it.
“I don’t… do that stuff. Sorry.”
Something primal in Ghost barks. That stuff. She’s never taken dick? Or never taken dick from a stranger? Either way, Ghost’s cock stirs and starts drooling on his thigh. She can probably see it. That blotchy stain on his jeans under the mellow lighting.
“I play nice, bird,” he mutters. “And wouldn’t it be nice to get back at them? Your mate? All those blokes who ignored you?”
She squeezes her thighs when Ghost settles his hand on her ass. She has trouble pulling them back apart, her thighs that is, as they’re adhered with slick.
“I asked you a question. Wouldn’t it be nice?”
“I guess so…” she whimpers. Keening into Ghost’s whispering touch, the heat of his cock.
He pulls a wad of cash from his pocket and slams it onto the table. He stands up, looking something like a predator on its hind legs, and pulls her from the barstool.
“Let’s go, pretty bird,” he leashes his hand around the base of her neck, leading her outside and into his rust-spattered truck. “You deserve it.”
A stroke of heat licks up her innards. She’s already dazed by the time she’s in his truck, preening as he splits his hand across her leg and digs divots into her thigh, kneading her supple flesh. She’s bleary eyes and impaired on arousal as they drive past the city’s margins and into the outback, the roads turning pebbled.
She’s too excited, too sweet to heed Ghost pulling her out of his truck and hauling her into a neglected flat.
She only feels his hands on her, big and warm. And the cool carbon steel of handcuffs locking around her ankle.
She smiles.
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cupid-styles · 1 month
Text
a helping hand*
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in which y/n can't orgasm and harry is a helpful ex-friend with benefits.
word count: 3.3k
content warnings: mentions of depression/mental health and anti-depressants, discussions of reduced libido, smut (phone sex, mentions of sex toys, dirty talk, description of group sex and mmf threesomes)
this one goes out to all the besties on anti-depressants
masterlist | talk to me
. . .
“No.”
“But—”
“No.”
Harry sighs in frustration before crossing his arms over his chest. If he pursed his raspberry lips into a pout, he’d look more like a petulant child than the young adult Y/N’s known for the past few years. With a roll of her eyes, she lifts her glass to her mouth and takes a healthy swig of her coke and rum. She allows herself to scan the interior of the bar — it’s just barely 6 pm on a Wednesday so she’s not surprised that it’s primarily filled with locals and teams of corporate offices decompressing after a long day. 
“I could always make you come when we hooked up and I bet you I could still do it.”
“Christ, Harry, give it a rest,” Y/N replies, narrowing her eyes at the curly haired brunette. “It’s not just with partners, it’s me, too.”
He quirks an eyebrow and settles his elbows on the sticky table. She huffs when she realizes she’s only piqued his attention even more now that she’s revealed another inkling of her… problem. 
“Can you just tell me what’s going on, then? You know, when I texted you for our semiannual catch up, I didn’t think we’d be getting into your sudden inability to orgasm, but—”
“Can you lower your voice?” Y/N hisses with wide eyes. “I didn’t think we would talk about this either but you’re the one who asked if I’m seeing anyone—”
“Yeah, seeing anyone, not coming for anyone—”
“Just shut up!” she mutters, nearly knocking over her almost-finished drink. “If I tell you, you have to drop it.”
“I can’t promise that.”
“Harry…”
“As your ex-friend with benefits, I have no duty to keep secrets that aren’t about our bedroom-related rendezvouses.” 
“There hasn’t been a ‘rendezvous’ in five years.”
“There could be.”
She sighs and presses her fingertips to her temples. This is why she and Harry never worked out. They’re total opposites — he has the energy of a rowdy golden retriever and she exudes a calm, monotone nature. (She thinks she’s borderline boring if you ask her, but that’s something she’s been saving for therapy.) 
At parties in college, he was always the one working the room, chatting with everyone while she stood in the corner and clutched her solo cup for dear life. 
He had a million contacts in his phone and people remembered him, even if they knew each other from something as small as working together on a project in a class three semesters ago. 
Meanwhile, Y/N could spend two years straight working in the same office and someone would still ask her when she started working there because she looked “new”.
(Seriously. It happened last month, and she had to rush to the bathroom to cry.)
Despite their opposing personalities, they did work for a while, but only as friends with benefits. To begin with, Y/N never wanted anything more — when they started hooking up, they were nearing their senior year of college, and she didn’t want to be tied down to anyone or anything when making decisions about her future. But secretly, she knew feelings for Harry would inevitably pop up. How could they not? Although he was an annoying ball of energy sometimes, bouncing off the walls of her apartment before they even made it to her bedroom, he was kind. He had a good heart — he still does after all these years, otherwise Y/N would never bother meeting up with him without the intention of hooking up — and he was funny, and he made Y/N feel all warm and gooey inside. He was a good fuck, too, and as much as she wanted to widdle his presence down to being purely physical, she wasn’t strong enough for that. 
She was grateful, albeit heartbroken, when six months after their arrangement began, Harry very sweetly told her he had a crush on a girl in his advanced sculpture class and wanted to go for it. As she swallowed a lump in her throat, she told him that was perfectly fine, that she was glad he told her, and that she hoped things worked out between him and Emily.
(They did. For two and a half years. Y/N had never been so thankful when graduation arrived and she could run as far away as possible from the couple.)
Harry tried his best to keep in touch, even after graduating while he was dating Emily — always commenting on her Instagram posts and responding to her stories, even occasionally texting her to wish her well on her birthday or major holidays. Y/N kept him at an arm’s length for as long as she could. That is, until he moved to her city last year.
The only reason why Y/N had a heads up is because of an Instagram story he posted. In his typical overly excited way, he posted a picture of his dog in his new apartment with one of those tacky, premade location tags. (She’s allowed to think they’re ugly — she’s a graphic designer.) So, it didn’t come as a surprise when a week or two later, a text popped up from an unknown number: Hey Y/N! Not sure if this is still your number or if you still have mine, but it’s Harry :) I just moved to your city and was wondering if we could get together! It would be great to see you.
Thus began the tradition of Harry and Y/N’s semiannual meetups. 
It was an unsaid routine they followed — every six months or so, one of them would text the other for drinks or coffee or lunch. They only ever met up in public and they didn’t talk much outside of their scheduled hangouts, though Harry was much more prone to messaging her stupid memes and, on occasion, a picture of his dog, a husky named Fish. 
Much to Y/N’s dismay, the chemistry between her and Harry was still very much there. It had been apparent from their first meetup last February. It was difficult not to flirt, especially when he brought up their past (she would happily pretend none of it ever happened if it meant Harry Styles never made her blush ever again). The thing is, though, is it was fine as long as nothing ever came of it. 
Until now. 
Because as Y/N sits across from Harry in the worn booth of a dive bar a block away from her apartment, she can’t believe she’s seriously considering letting him back in her bed.
“Can you just tell me what you think the problem is?” Harry asks. He slides his elbow onto the table and presses his knuckles up against his cheek, like they’re best friends giggling over some silly gossip. It makes Y/N want to elbow him in the ribs.
“It’s a biological issue,” she mutters, “Like I said, nothing you could fix. Even if I wanted you to.”
“Just spit it out, blossom.”
She narrows her eyes, though she finds it difficult to ignore the way her stomach flips at the familiar nickname. “You’re not allowed to call me that anymore.”
“Tell me what the issue is and I won’t call you that,” he replies easily. “C’mon, it’s me. Remember all the times I helped you pee when you were too drunk to sit up straight? We’ve definitely seen each other in more embarrassing situations before.”
Y/N sighs loudly. He has a point — there was a time where Harry knew her better than anyone else in the world. And frankly, she hasn’t talked to anyone about her problem. 
Scooching her body forward, she attempts to close most of the gap between them. Harry leans closer and she rolls her eyes. To an outsider's perspective, they probably looked like they were performing some kind of sketchy drug deal or like little girls swapping secrets at a slumber party.
“Remember how I struggled with, um… getting pretty sad?”
Harry’s eyebrows draw together and he nods. 
“Right, so it got… worse when I moved here. And I needed to find help, so I started seeing a psychiatrist who put me on antidepressants. They’ve helped a ton — I feel better, and the depression that I do feel is a lot less intense.”
“That’s great, Y/N,” he says, and she can tell he means it by the genuine tone to his voice. “What does that have to do with you not orgasming, though?”
She swallows tightly. “Well, my doctor increased my medication over the winter, and one of the side effects is…y’know. Decreased libido and whatnot.”
His eyes widen. “Oh, shit.”
“Yeah,” she snorts, leaning back against the cracked leather of the seat. “Oh, shit.”
“And you’ve tried vibrators and stuff?”
“Of course I have, I’m not an idiot.”
“So how long has it been?”
She nibbles on her bottom lip as she thinks. Even with flings that she’s had over the past few months, they all gave up at a certain point. The sex was still fun, but she was just the only one who wasn’t coming.
“Well, I can give them to myself if I… work at it,” she mumbles, folding her hands in her lap. “But with a partner? Probably… six months.”
“Six months?!”
The look on Harry’s face is dramatic and theatrical, as if she just told him she was moving halfway across the world and participating in some kind of 90 Day Fiance situation. 
“Shut. Up.” she says through grit teeth, sending him a harsh look. “I don’t need a reminder of how shitty it is.”
“Who the hell are you letting in your bed?” he demands sharply. 
“It can take me an hour, Harry, I don’t expect every person I sleep with to be that patient.”
“They should be, Y/N.”
With a shake of her head, she glances down at her phone on the table. Everything has always seemed so simple for Harry — he’s one of those people where things just come easily for him, no pun intended. A part of her wishes they never delved into the subject matter. Vulnerability somehow always bit her in the ass and this instance was no exception. 
“I’m gonna get going,” she says, pushing her empty glass to the center of the table. “Thank you for the drink, H. It was good to see you.”
His eyes soften as she begins to scooch her way out of the booth. Quickly, he throws a few bills down on the table and gets up to follow her. 
“Can I walk you out, please?” he asks, swallowing as his stomach brims with nerves. She nods, though he’s unsure if it’s a reluctant response. Silently, they leave the bar together, and he nibbles on his bottom lip as she pushes the front door open. The spring air is a welcomed breeze from the sticky interior of the establishment, and she shifts on her feet as she turns around to face him. She parts her lips as if she’s readying herself to bid him a final goodbye, but he beats her to it. 
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he says as he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “I just meant— like, you deserve better, is all. Someone who will be patient and care to learn your body.”
Y/N nods slowly. “Right. And you’re that person.”
Her tone teeters on mocking and it sends a harsh hit straight to Harry’s chest. He shrugs.
“If you wanted me to be.”
She doesn’t reply to that, but she doesn’t make a move to leave, either. 
“I’ll think about it,” she finally says, and Harry’s eyebrows shoot up in shock. “My hand cramps up when I’ve been at it for too long. Maybe it’ll be nice to have someone else try.”
He huffs out a breathy laugh. “Just let me know and I’m there.”
. . .
A few days later, when Harry is at a friend’s house, he receives a text from Y/N: Are you free right now?
In all honesty, he’s surprised that she’s — assumingly — taking him up on his offer. Y/N remains to be one of the most stubborn people he’s ever known (one time she spent an entire week trying to put together a desk she’d purchased before asking anyone for help. The only reason why Harry was able to do it for her is because she’d called him over for a “destress fuck” and he finished it while she slept). 
He swipes down on her message, his other hand occupied by some shitty IPA Lizzy’s new boyfriend had bought. He keeps asking Harry if he likes it and he has to lie about tasting the hints of citrus, even though it tastes like every other crappy beer he’s consumed. 
At a friend’s house, he quickly types back, Why? Is your hand cramping?
He can basically feel her rolling her eyes as he bites back a smile, watching as the three dots appear to signal her impending response. 
Yes. I was wondering if you wanted to come over.
He’s unsurprised by the casual invitation on a Friday night at 9:40 p.m. (it seems that, as far as hookups go, Y/N hasn’t changed much since college). Nibbling on his bottom lip, he uses his free hand to type a response. 
I’m sorry, I would if I could. I’m trapped at this “apartment-warming” party for my friend. Apparently people host housewarmings even if they’re just renting a new place.
Y/N immediately types back: As much as I’d love to debate that with you, I’m really just looking for an orgasm. So if you’re busy, I’ll go back to buzzing at my numb clit.
Harry snorts at that before placing his beer on a coaster and excusing himself to the bathroom. Once he’s locked the door, he’s quick to pull up Y/N’s contact and press the pad of his thumb to her number. 
“Hello?”
She sounds confused and frustrated when she answers and Harry smirks at that.
“Hey,” he greets, leaning back against the white porcelain sink. “I’m calling about your orgasm.”
“You’re seriously not trying to have phone sex with me right now.” 
Her tone is as deadpan as it gets, and the monotone nature is enough to make a small bit of insecurity crawl into Harry’s stomach. 
“Well, I was planning on talking you through it. ‘S not really phone sex if only one person’s getting off, I think.”
She lets out a noisy sigh and there’s some rustling on the other side. He waits for her response and is surprised when she agrees. 
“Fine,” she huffs, and he can envision the way her eyebrow raises just slightly when she’s decided to give into something, “Let’s give it a try. Porn is getting boring anyway.”
“What were you watching?”
“Well, when you’ve been trying to come for 40 minutes, you end up in some… odd places,” she says. “I started out with lesbian porn, then found my way into threesomes, and somehow I ended up at double penetration.”
“Ah,” Harry nods, “Sounds like you’re having some sort of craving for group sex, then?” 
A pause. And then: “I guess. I’ve never tried it, I just think it’s hot.”
“What’s hot about it for you?”
He thinks he hears her swallow, but he can’t be completely sure. 
“I just like the idea of pleasing more than one person. I think that’s how I got to double penetration stuff.”
“Oh, I see. You want to be used.”
It’s blunt and it’s to the point, but he’s not wrong — he knows he’s not, because he slept with her for six months straight.
“I guess,” she replies non-committedly, “I guess it’s like… a fantasy of getting two people off and them feeling that way because of me. Through oral or… being inside of me, or whatever.”
“So what’s your threesome fantasy, then?” Harry pushes, though his tone teeters are near carelessness at this point, “Girl/boy? Boy/boy? Maybe it doesn’t matter. Who do you want to be between?”
Y/N exhales shakily, “I’ve never thought about it.” 
“Well, now you are.”
She doesn’t immediately reply, but he knows she responds well to the calloused persona he suddenly obtains. She’s always been this way — submissive and good, always looking to please him intimately. It’s too easy for him to put the pieces together and solve the puzzle.
“I guess I like the idea of being with two guys, but it doesn’t matter much to me.” she eventually decides.
“Okay. And in your deepest fantasies, what are these two men doing to you?”
Another pause, though he thinks he hears a shuttered sigh on the line. He doesn’t mention it — not yet at least.
“Maybe… maybe one’s inside of me and the other one’s in my mouth.”
“And how is he fucking you? Is he on top of you, missionary style, or are you on your hands and knees while he fucks you from behind?”
A breathy whimper departs Y/N’s lips and this time it’s loud enough for both of them to hear. He smirks at the sound of it. 
“I like the idea of him behind me. A-and the other one fucking my mouth.”
Harry hums, almost as if he’s praising her. “Close your eyes and envision it, then. Think about how you’re letting two men take advantage of you and use your body, just so they can get off. One’s fucking into you from behind, spanking your ass and grabbing your hips like you’re just some kind of toy to him. And the other one is thrusting deep into your mouth, making you choke, getting you all drooly for him. You’re nothing but a set of holes for them, honey. Isn’t that sweet?”
On the other line, all Harry hears is a series of shattered moans and low curses. Even though it’s been years, he can imagine the way her muscles are all tensed up, her pussy clenching around a dildo or her fingers. He wishes he would’ve asked so he could envision it, too.
“I-I think I’m gonna cum,” she whimpers out, and Harry palms himself through his trousers at the sound of her high-pitched mewls. 
“There you go, blossom. Atta girl, just let go. ‘S easy, let it go for me,” his voice is a near coo and it makes Y/N’s eyes roll back into her skull. It’s like he knows how easy it is for her brain to ping pong to other far less sexier thoughts — like the dirty plates in the dishwasher or the unfolded laundry in the corner of her bedroom — so he continues crooning through the receiver, his low, soft voice guiding her through every bump and ridge of her impending orgasm. 
When she comes, she comes hard, considering it’s been a solid two weeks since she’s been able to give herself an orgasm. It shoots through her entire body and, even with her eyes shut tight, the fantasy she created still plays through her brain — except now, it’s not two mystery men. Now, it’s just Harry fucking into her, all tan muscles and sweat pearling at his hairline. 
She’s boneless and exhausted when she finishes, her throat dry from the involuntary moans she let go. She only remembers she’s still on the phone with Harry when she hears him clear his throat, followed by a call of her name. 
“Hey, sorry,” she mumbles as her cheeks flush a deep red hue, “T-that was good. Thank you.”
“Yeah? You finished?”
If she had more energy, she would roll her eyes. Of course she finished. The entire neighborhood knows she finished.
“Yeah.” she mutters shortly. “Have a good time at your apartment-warming party.”
Harry huffs a laugh, “Yeah, ‘cos that’s what I’ll be thinking about for the rest of the night.”
She doesn’t have a chance to ask him what he means before he’s bidding her goodbye: “Let me know when you wanna do this again. I’m around this weekend.”
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rowarn · 10 months
Text
hear me out....
afab!reader, no prns, simon is smitten <3, cunnilingus, wet&messy, creampie !!!
; in which simon cucks some poor guy for flirting with u <3
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going out with simon to a bar one night. simon thought u looked so precious dressed up just for him. he's got that "wear what you want, i can fight" mentality as he should.
some random guy slides up to your table with a cheesy smile and a bravery that surprised even simon. he was sitting right there and the guy didn't bat an eye. that was unusual — simon was a big guy with an intimidating stare to go along with it.
and you - a little too polite and sweet to tell the guy flat out to fuck off, gives simon an apologetic little look.
and fuck, simon thinks, you're so precious. you really melt his heart.
the guy makes some corny joke about a threesome, condescension dripping from his voice as he really thinks you would choose him over simon. the bloke really believed you would go home with him.
simon finally interjects from where he has been nursing his whiskey and just watching — making very sure the guy didn't cross any lines beyond making a fool of himself in front of you.
"sure why not?" he says, concealing a grin when the guy turns to gawk at him, asking if he was serious.
and that's how you wind up in a hotel — simon would never allow some random asshole into your shared home.
the second you all stepped in, simon pulled up a chair and directed the guy to sit while simon "got you ready". the guy was thrilled, it tickled simon something fierce.
and you, still so sweet for him, cling onto and pepper kisses on simon's face the second he's within your reach. he adores it. adores you.
simon gives the poor idiot a show, pinning your knees to your chest and letting him marvel at how fucking pretty you are; pussy shiny with a sheen of your arousal. he bets the guy thinks it's all for him but no. you only get so wet and needy for simon.
simon eats you out like a champ — urged even more than usual by new eyes watching. simon has a point to prove.
you're whining and moaning, twitching in the cute way you do when simon rolls his tongue over the hardened bud of your clit and fuck, he's drooling. literally. it mixes with your juices and makes you even wetter and messier and he loves it.
he makes you cum on his tongue alone. hard. you gasp and sob, legs sweetly kicking out as he feels you throb on his tongue. usually he adds some fingers into the mix to prep you but not today. he wants you to feel the full stretch of him this time.
he thinks he hears the guy make some comment about how lovely you are and how he can't wait to have a turn with you.
'in your dreams maybe' simon thinks bitterly. he can't believe the guy thinks he can compare to him. simon knows for a fact the dude wouldn't even be able to make you cum — simons taken the time to learn your body, learn what you like and what you need before you even say it. simon has devoted himself to you and no one could ever compete with that.
simon turns you over and manhandles you into position on your knees, gently pressing down on your back so you lean down onto your chest. you're still trembling and twitching occasionally from the orgasm he can still taste on his tongue. he thinks it's adorable.
the guy pipes up, complaining and asking when he's gonna get a turn because his cocks so hard it hurts.
simon decided it's as good a time as any to break the news to him — you're not gettin' a turn mate. just enjoy the show, yeah?
the guy starts whining and complaining as simon slowly and carefully sinks into you. you're so wet and tight around him that he feels the breath punch out of his lungs.
his hand is careful as it wraps around the back of your neck, using the grip as leverage as he begins to rock into you. you're still getting used to being full of him — he hadn't prepped you properly so he knows it stings a bit.
you still sweetly coo and whimper as he moves slowly and carefully. before long you're grinding back against him, a silent request for more. and he's more than happy to provide.
soon enough he's fucking you like you deserve. you're crying out into the bed and creaming real nice around the base of him. you have the blankets wrapped tight in your firsts and you're so loud about how good he's making you feel.
simon chances a glance at the idiot in the room and see how intensely he's staring at you, mouth slightly agape and eyes lidded.
simon nearly puffs up in pride — you're his and he's fucking you so well for his audience.
he picks up the pace, the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your tender clit is intoxicating. your body trembles and twitches at the onslaught of stimulation. you cry out his name, praise him for making you feel so good.
simons grip changes to the front of your neck, carefully urging you up onto your knees with your back to his chest. he feels you clench around him when you're reminded of how fucking big he is compared to you — broad shoulders and huge hands that dwarf your own. he's built and firm against you, sturdy and safe.
in this new position, he can freely grope your bouncing tits as he resumes fucking you. he make sure to angle his hips to hit that sweet little spot inside you that makes your back bow against him and your eyes roll back in your head.
"look at me, love," he orders when you close your eyes.
when you do as he tells you, your eyes are teary and dazed — a testament to how well he's fucking you. how well he always fucks you.
you desperately reach for one of his hands, dragging it down your body to the apex of your thighs. simon wastes no time in pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit. your thighs twitch the second he starts circling the little bud, his fingers getting wet with your juices.
he can't resist craning his neck down to press his lips against yours. simon isn't big on kissing — he finds it to be almost too intimate. it's different from sex. it makes him feel a little too vulnerable for comfort. but in that moment he craves it. he needs to kiss you.
you give no warning when you cum. your nails bite into his arm but he barely feels it over the right vice grip your cunt has around his cock. you tremble and whine into his mouth, unwilling to break the kiss he had bestowed upon you.
you drench his cock, creaming and soaking him in your cum. it drops down his balls and your thighs and drives him to his own end.
"where do you want it?" he asks, although he knows the answer.
he just want s your guest to hear you say it. he wants him to hear how you beg to be filled with cum, how you whine to be stuffed nice and full.
"i-inside!" you gasp so sweetly for him that it melts his cold heart, "please, simon. want it inside!"
simon's head drops to your shoulder, burying his face in your neck as he gives you a few more mind-numbing thrusts into your still twitching pussy before he groans through gritted teeth and spills into you just like you wanted.
he pulls out quicker than he usually does just to watch his load drip out and soil your thighs that were covered in your own cum.
simon catches you when you slump, carefully lowering you onto the bed while you catch your breath.
the guy is still sitting there. they meet gazes and simon jerks his head to the side, indicating towards the door.
the guy huffs and stalks away, blue balled and unsatisfied but clearly he enjoyed the show if the bulge in his jeans was any indication.
simon can only hope he got his message across. <3
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