#because that wasn’t the choice they fucked up on

[erwinsvow]

introducing... bitchy reader!

rafe never pays attention to sarah’s friends. new yet similar faces seem to make the rounds through tannyhill every week; the place was a revolving door. the occasional familiar girl would say hi to him, which would of course be ignored since he doesn’t care enough to say hi back.

so naturally, you become the exception to his little rule.

you and sarah are on opposite sides of the counter, flicking through magazines and taking sips from overpriced iced coffees, when he overhears a conversation that makes him stop and listen.

“-and he’s not like topper, like, at all. he’s really nice and actually talks to me instead of at me-”

“wow,” he hears you say, dragging out the syllables and sarcasm dripping from your voice. “such standards you have. no, really.”

“shut up. he’s totally sweet-” sarah says, but you interrupt her.

“he’s, like, totally a dirty pogue.” that catches his attention—not just the fact that there’s something going on between his sister and some pogue, but the way you say the sentence, how the words sound coming from your mouth. 

you nearly sound like rafe.

“that is so rude-”

“what? i’m just being honest. i’d be a bad friend if i didn’t tell you the truth.”

“what truth?” his sister questions.

“that you’re settling for some pogue boy because you’re bored of top. i get it. if i was dating him i’d be bored enough to fuck a pogue too.”

rafe cringes at the topic even though your word choice makes him laugh—topper is boring, though he doesn’t think he’s heard anyone else bring it up until now. he steps back into the doorway, watching the two of you. the crass words are coming from you, dressed in a sunny yellow dress and tapping pretty pink nails against the counter. 

“hey! i’m not bored-”

“you mean, you like hearing about his boat and golf every single day?”

“he has other hobbies! like-”

“like what?” you pause, watching sarah’s expression before giving her a pointed look—a look that says told you so. “who are you really trying to convince right now?” you flip through another magazine, finding something that must have caught your eye. you lift it to show sarah—some pinked striped pajamas and fuzzy slippers on the pages. “don’t i totally need this?”

“shut up.”

“that’s what someone says when they know the other person’s right,” you say with a mocking smile, setting down the magazine. he’s watching the whole thing—you’re funnier than he would have thought. “and if you change your mind just go to country club. top’s dime a dozen there.” the two of you start laughing. 

“i’m not gonna change my mind-”

“that’s what you said when you started dating topper,” you say it deadpan, and rafe holds back a laugh.

“-because he’s really nice. he’s a good guy.”

“ugh, sarah. making out with a dirty pogue at a bonfire is one thing. you’re talking like you’re in love. get a grip.”

“what? what’s so wrong with that?” sarah asks, taking a sip of her drink.

“because you can’t be in love with someone you have to hide your valuables around.” that’s when he decides to walk in—sarah sputtering on her drink while you roll your eyes.

“and what’re you girls talkin’ about?” rafe asks, and two sets of eyes turn to look at him. you look at him a little confused—in all the years you’ve known sarah and times you’ve been at tannyhill, rafe’s never once spoken to you.

“i don’t think it’s any of your business-” his sister says, and then he rolls his eyes. you interrupt right away.

“sarah, it’s okay.” you turn to rafe, looking right at him and leaning in a little like you’re gonna tell in something. “it’s really not any of your business.”

blank face, trying to be annoyed but not actually feeling annoyed, he stares back at you. his sister laughs stupidly, heading into the living room. she leaves you alone with rafe in the kitchen, but as you grab your drink and try to follow sarah, rafe says something.

“y’know i heard that shit you were sayin’. you’re funny, kid.” you turn back to look at rafe.

“thanks. i wasn’t joking.”

“yeah. good. at least one of my sister’s friends has ‘er head screwed straight.” you laugh, but the look on your face says you didn’t think it was funny.

“are you trying to compliment me? by insulting all my other friends?” he wasn’t expected that retort.

“no. no, i-”

“maybe if your friend wasn’t such a shit boyfriend, sarah wouldn’t be talking to some pogue. but hey, what do i know?”

“hey, kid, i-”

“don’t call me that.” you roll your eyes, walking to the living room without even glancing back at rafe. he calls out after you again.

“so have you?” you pause, turning again.

“have i what?” “made out with some pogue at the bonfire.” he shrugs. “that’s what you said to sarah, isn’t it?”

“again, how is that any of your business?” you ask, cocking your head at him.

“that’s not an answer.”

“i don’t owe you an answer. but for the record, no, i haven’t. i actually have standards.” he doesn’t miss the remark and what it says about his sister.

“good,” rafe says, looking at you. his eyes rake over your body before he can stop it—your short hem, the jewelry dangling on your wrists and neck, the heels even though you hadn’t gone anywhere.

“shut up. weirdo.” you walk to the living room where sarah’s waiting for you.

rafe’s gonna have a hard time staying away from you.

#this was so much better in my head but oh well #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #bitchy reader

[starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies]

The Princess and The Pogue | J. M.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: Your daughter comes home from school telling you about a local OBX fairytale. It turns out it’s about you and your husband.

Listen to But Daddy I Love Him for full experience

Requested by @idontevenknowbsblog

A/N: This turned out way longer and more angsty than I had anticipated but I’m a sucker for the angst. I just can’t help it. I’m sorry this took me a million years to finish!

As I am an adult, all characters I write for are written as adults. Any minor characters will be aged up to the general range of their actor’s age.

Warnings: allusions to domestic abuse, controlling parents, forced engagement, so much fucking angst, only kinda proofread

Word Count: 3.5k

~

Your daughter’s tiny feet press against the back of your seat as you head home after picking her up from school.

“Mia, stop kicking,” You laugh, “Mommy’s trying to drive.”

“Sorry, Mommy.” Your daughter giggles. “I’m just so happy today!”

“I’m so glad you're happy, Baby.” You smile at the five year old in the rearview mirror. “What did you do at school today?”

“We got to draw all our shapes today and we sang the alphabet song a bunch of times!”

“Ooh sounds like a fun day.”

She claps excitedly. “Oh and Kylie’s older sister told us a fairytale at recess!”

“A fairytale? Very cool. What was it about?”

“Did you know a princess used to live here? A long time ago. She ran away with a pogue because her evil king father wouldn’t let them be together.”

Your eyes widen at her words, a small smile forming on your face as she tells the story that takes you back to what seems like a lifetime ago.

-

“Mom, I’m headed out,” you yelled through the foyer.

“Ok, hun.” Your mom poked her head over the stairwell. “Just don’t stay out too late. We have that business lunch with the Cameron’s tomorrow and it’s very important that you be there.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” you promise, “besides I’m just going to hang out with Sarah.”

“We just love that you and Ward Cameron’s daughter are friends. It looks so good for your father’s business for the families to be close. Especially with you set to inherit the company someday.”

With Ward Cameron being the biggest real estate developer in the Outer Banks and your dad owning the biggest construction company, the two men worked closely on most of their deals. They were also the closest thing to friends that either of the men had. The two richest men in the island made for a powerful team.

“Glad I can help you keep up appearances,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that, hun?”

“Always happy to help the family.” You gave your mother a forced smile and made your escape, slipping outside and into Sarah’s waiting car.

“Ready to go see your man?” She grins at you and you return the gesture.

“God, yes.“

-

You hadn’t expected to fall in love with JJ Maybank. Considering the very different lives the two of you led it was surprising the two of you ever even crossed paths, but that was one of the perks of being Sarah’s friend. When she fell in love with John B and got involved with the pogues she dragged you along with her.

It wasn’t like you had anything against the pogues. In fact, you had admired them from afar your whole life. Their freedom and adventures were something you envied, forever stuck in your kook bubble. You didn’t have a choice but to follow the plan your parents had created for you.

JJ, on the other hand, hated kooks with a passion. He had a hard enough time with Sarah joining the group and when she brought you in, arguably the even bigger kook princess with the even bigger kook king of a father, he vowed to himself he would never accept you. After all, you represented everything he hated, the life he always dreamed of but would never attain.

He would sneer and call you “princess”, his voice dripping with disdain, doing everything in his power to piss you off, but you didn’t mind. You loved his passion and the way he would do anything to protect the people he cared about. You ignored his insults, treating him just as well as you would anyone else.

Before he knew it, your soft words and beaming smile had softened JJ. He began to actually look forward to your presence in the group, feeling sad when you couldn’t get away from your parents to spend time with them. Then, one day the two of you were the only ones to show up to a pogue hang out. You ended up spending hours just talking and getting to know each other. The rest was history and you had been together from that day forward.

Unfortunately, you knew that your parents would never let you spend time around a pogue, let alone be in a relationship with one. So, like Sarah and John B, you and JJ had to keep your relationship hidden. Thanks to the help of the pogues, the two of you had been successfully seeing each other behind your parents’ backs for over a year.

-

“I’ll be back to pick you up at 8:00,” Sarah reminds you. She pulls up to the little cove where you and JJ liked to meet. “We only have a couple of hours tonight because of that lunch tomorrow. Don’t want our families to get suspicious.”

You nod. “Got it. I’ll see you then.” You slip out of her car. “Tell John B I said hi.”

“Will do.”

She pulls away as you make your way around the rocks hiding the entrance to your spot.

“Hi, princess.” Your boyfriend grins at you in the orange light of the sunset, pulling you into a hug.

“JJ,” You breathe him in, soaking up the comfort he gives you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby. Four days without you is four days too much.” JJ leads you over to the blanket on the sand, sitting back so you can settle between his legs.

“I know. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t get away much this week. My parents are going crazy about this lunch tomorrow.”

“Aren’t they always crazy?” JJ jokes, poking your side. You squirm a little bit, trying to escape his prodding.

“I mean, yeah. They’re just extra crazy this week.” You settle further into his chest, JJ giving up his attack in exchange for wrapping his arms securely around you. He nuzzles his head into the side of your neck. “But, it’s okay because at least we have right now.”

“How long do we have until Sarah comes back to pick you up?”

You let out a sigh. “Two hours.”

“That’s it? Damn.”

“I’m sorry, J.” You look back apologetically, but he just shakes his head.

“Hey, don’t apologize. We just have to make the most of the time we have, like usual. It won’t be like this forever.”

“Right.” You give him a small smile, turning back to face the sunset before he can see the doubt in your eyes. You hoped JJ was right, but you had no idea how things would ever change.

As expected, your time together flew by too quickly and before you knew it Sarah was back to take you home.

JJ was reluctant to let you out of his embrace. “We’re still on for tomorrow night, right? After you finish up with all your kook business?”

“Of course, baby. I wouldn’t miss it.” You give him one last goodbye kiss, distracting him long enough to slip out from his arms. He pouts, but lets you go, knowing if it was your choice you would never leave.

-

You stare numbly at the wall, unable to will yourself to move from your position balled up on the bed. You aren’t sure how long you've been laying there looking at nothing. You didn’t feel anything, having cried out all your tears hours ago. A buzzing sounds from the other side of the room, your phone going off once again, but you don’t pick it up. It’s probably Sarah calling again to see if you’re okay after what happened at lunch. You’re not.

Having sat in silence for so long, you jump when you hear a rattling at your window. It takes you a minute to clamber over to the window with the lights out in your room. You hadn’t realized how dark it had become outside.

You peek out warily, trying to determine the source of the noise. “Shit.” You mumble under your breath as you realize JJ is perched in the tree closest to your room.

You unlatch the door so he can climb inside, turning away from him quickly. You’re thankful for the darkness in that moment as you scramble to make yourself look presentable, flattening your hair and wiping at your face. You pull down the sleeves of the massive sweatshirt you’re wearing, one you stole from JJ months ago, making sure you are completely covered.

“JJ, what are you doing here,” you whisper, “What if someone sees you?”

“I was worried about you. You were supposed to meet me hours ago, remember?” He sounds frustrated.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I totally forgot.” You run your hand down your face stressed. “I didn’t mean to stand you up.”

“You forgot? Y/N, I’ve been calling and texting for hours.” JJ moves closer, but you step back. “I thought something bad had happened.”

He takes another step back. Again you back away, trying to keep him from seeing your face. Brows furrowed, JJ moves towards you again. This time you can’t move away fast enough, bumping your dresser as you try to get away.

“Woah, wait.” JJ takes your face in gentle hands. “Have you been crying?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you off that easily.

“Baby, what’s going on? Is it something I did?” The worry in his eyes brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. You shake your head, willing them not to fall.

“No, no. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Something with Sarah?” You shake your head again.

“Your parents?” That stills you. “It is your parents. What is it? Did something happen at lunch?”

You don’t answer.

“Talk to me, baby. I can’t make it better if I don’t know what’s wrong.” JJ’s voice is so sincere and his touch so soft. He really thinks he’ll be able to fix whatever the problem is.

You gather your strength and gently pull away from him, not wanting to see the look in his eyes when you tell him.

“My father and Ward Cameron have decided that it is in the best interest of their respective businesses for our families to be officially joined.”

“What on earth does that mean?”

You feel like you're going to be sick, but you force the words out anyway. “I am set to be married to Rafe Cameron.” You keep your eyes on the floor, waiting for JJ’s response. He stays silent.

“I had no idea they had this planned until my parent’s announced it at lunch.”

“What do you mean you’re marrying Rafe Cameron?” He tries to keep his voice calm. But you can hear the venom behind his words anyway. “You can’t just marry Rafe.”

“I don’t have a choice, JJ. They practically signed my ownership papers over to Rafe right there.”

JJ is pacing your room now, hands constantly running through his hair. “He can’t just do that. You’re an adult, Y/N. Tell him no.”

“I can’t tell him no JJ.” He stops in front of you, the look on his face half shock half anger.

“What are you talking about? You can’t just tell me that your father is marrying you off to Rafe and not even try to fight him on it.” You turn from his intense gaze, unable to handle it any longer.

‘Y/N-” JJ reaches for your arm to turn you around and you flinch back hissing in pain. Your sleeve rides up, revealing a number of dark bruises.

“I tried talking him out of it, JJ. He made it clear saying no wasn’t an option.”

JJ seethes, body tense with anger. “He hurt you.” It’s not a question which is just as well because you have no response.

“I’m gonna kill him.” He growls.

You lay your palms flat against his chest. “No, you’re not. We can’t make this situation any worse than it already is.”

“He can’t just get away with this!” JJ’s voice rises with his anger and you shush him quickly, looking back at your door.

“Please, Y/N.” His voice cracks on your name. “Things can’t just end like this.”

The pain in his words breaks your heart. You let the tears fall freely, unable to hold back the emotion any longer.

“I’m so sorry, JJ.” He cradles your face in his hands like he did at the beginning of the night. “There’s nothing either of us can do to change this.” JJ brushes his thumbs against your cheeks, brushing at the tears. “You should go.”

“No, Y/N.” He has tears running down his face too. “I can’t leave you like this.”

“Please, JJ. You have to go before something wakes him up. I don’t know what he’ll do if he finds you here.”

JJ’s eyes flit down to your wrists, taking in the bruises once more before he nods slowly. He won’t be the reason your father hurts you again. You lips press against his slowly, both of you pouring all the love you have for each other into the kiss.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips.

“I love you, too. Always.”

With those last words, he slips back out your window, closing it quietly behind him. You watch as he climbs back down the tree and crosses the property. As he finally fades out of blue, you sink down to your floor, your knees unable to hold the weight of your body as it’s wracked with sobs.

-

You don’t leave your room for days. All you can do is lay in your bed and cry, mourning the loss of the man you love and the life you had planned.

If it was up to you, you would never leave that room. Unfortunately, your parents have other plans. They parade you and Rafe all over town, making sure everyone on the island knows the two of you are “madly in love” and engaged to be married in the spring. The whole pageantry of it makes you sick.

The cherry on top of the whole ordeal is the engagement party that you parents planned for the weekend. They rented out the whole club and invited every kook on the island. You’re pretty sure it’s your own personal hell.

Sarah pins one last curl to your head. “Done. You look beautiful.”

You give her a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks, Sarah.” You were dressed in a white sundress that your mother had bought for the party and Sarah had done your hair and makeup to perfection. The whole look was stunning, but you just feel like a trophy being shown off.

Sarah gives you a sympathetic look. “You ready for this?”

“No. But I have to be.”

It takes everything in you to keep a smile pasted on your face as Rafe takes your hand and leads you out to the throng of people. Everyone smiles and hugs you, offering their congratulations. You do your best to seem gracious and excited, but all you feel is emptiness and the faces move before you in a blur.

You make it two hours into the party before you can’t take it any longer. The panic that has been creeping up your throat all night takes hold and you have to break away. You excuse yourself from Rafe, claiming a need to run to the bathroom. He gives you a harsh look and makes you promise to hurry back, but ultimately lets you go.

You hurry away from prying eyes, not letting yourself break until you get inside. Chest heaving, you gulp down air like you’ve just run a marathon. One of your hands is pressed against your chest, the other braced against the walls to hold you up as you stumble towards the bathroom.

Before you can make it more than a few feet an arm catches you around the waist, pulling you into an alcove you had never noticed. You stumble back, trying to pull yourself together, not wanting whoever grabbed you to see your harried state.

“Hey, hey. It’s just me.”

Familiar hands rub up and down your arms, grounding you. You look up to see the blue eyes that you love so much.

“JJ,” you whisper, breaths still coming fast and hard.

“It’s okay, baby. Just breathe.”

JJ holds you close as you will your body to calm, feeling safe for the first time all night.

“What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you, talk to you.”

You sigh, looking at him with sad eyes. “As happy as I am that you’re here, you have to go. If anyone sees you. My father, or Rafe-”

“What if you didn’t have to worry about them anymore?”

“JJ, we’ve been over this. I can’t break this engageme-”

“What if we just left? You and me. Right now.” His eyes bore into yours, willing you to see the possibility.

You can’t act like you haven’t had the same thought yourself, but you just didn’t see how it would be possible. “How would that work, JJ? My father controls my whole life. My money, my future, everything.”

“You don’t need anything he has to give you, Y/N.” His voice is pleading.

“JJ…”

“We can figure it out. You have a degree, I have experience. We’ll get jobs. We’ll make it work.” He reaches a hand into his pocket. “I know I can’t give you a life like this-”

“I don’t want a life like this.”

“-but I will do everything in my power to give you a good life, to make you happy.” He holds up a simple, beautiful band of silver. “Will you marry me?”

You stare up at him with wide eyes. “Are you serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. Say you’ll marry me. We can leave right now. I have a plan to get us off the island. Your parents won’t know until it’s too late. Just say yes, please.”

“Yes, yes.” You nod vigorously. “I’ll marry you.”

You rip off the gaudy ring currently on your hand and JJ replaces it with the silver band. He kisses you so deeply you think you see stars.

“I love you, JJ Maybank,” you whisper when you part.

“I love you too, Y/N Y/L/N, so much.”

You could stay in that moment forever, but you both know you don’t have time to waste. JJ begins to pull you to a side exit, but you stop him. There’s one last thing you have to do before you leave.

You find a piece of paper, scribbling out a few quick words and titling to your father.

Have fun explaining to the Cameron’s that your daughter ran off with a pogue

Y/N Y/L/N

You set the folded paper on the center table, placing Rafe’s ring next to it.

“Ready to get off this island?”

You grab JJ’s hand. “God, yes.”

-

JJ was right, the two of you figured it out. You both found jobs on the mainland and created a happy life for yourselves. You and JJ got married a few months after you ran off and Mia came along a few years later.

You had kept in touch with the pogues of course and they let you know when your father and Ward Cameron’s businesses had come crashing down, forcing the two men off the island. They had no power anymore, so eight years later you decided to move back to your home. People had gossiped at first, but they moved on to the next big thing when they realized that neither you nor JJ cared what they had to say. You wanted to be in the place where you grew up and fell in love, and you wanted Mia to be surrounded by the friends that you called your family.

Mia was just about bouncing in her seat by the time you got home. You hurried to get her out of her carseat so she could rush inside and see her dad. Friday’s were always her favorite because JJ got off work early and was already home by the time you brought her back from school.

She pulled you along by the hand as she continued on about her fairytale. “The evil king disappeared and they lived happily ever after.”

JJ scooped Mia up as the two of you entered the house, making the little girl squeal in delight.

“Daddy!”

“Who lived happily ever after, Mia-mine?” She giggled as he burrowed his face in her little belly.

“The princess and the pogue!”

JJ’s eyes met yours over Mia, giving you an intrigued look.

“Kylie’s older sister told her a fairytale at lunch about a couple that used to live on the island.” You tell him with a knowing grin.

“A fairytale? That’s awesome, baby.” JJ lowers Mia back down to her feet. “Hey, why don’t you go wash up and Mommy and I will make you a snack.”

“Okay, Daddy!” The little girl runs off happily.

You make your way to the kitchen, JJ coming up behind you and snaking his arms around your waist. “So the princess and the pogue, huh?” He smirks as you turn to face him.

“Who knew we’d become an OBX fairytale?” You reply.

“It makes sense. It doesn’t get much more ‘happily ever after’ than this. Right, princess?”

You give him a gentle kiss. “Right, pogue.”

~

Writing Masterlist

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x y/n #obx x reader #obx fic #obx fanfiction #obx #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #stars writes #starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies

[petrapalerno]

Submitting to the Alien Barbarian #12

Alien x fem reader, a dom/sub erotic short.

TW/CW: rough consensual sex, primal play, knotting, breeding, aliens, dominance/submission, blood play, spanking, pregnancy, overstimulation, anal play, gagging, violence and murder.

MASTER POST

PREVIOUS

The entrance to the hunting cave is nearly invisible. Golden vines twine over the leather door flap, nearly obscuring it from view. 

Sweat drips off your brow. The humidity of the jungle is so different from the dusty deserts of this planet. You find it hard to believe these two eco systems exist so close to each other. 

Drohako removes the saddle bag from Graysi and sets them near the rocky wall of the cave.

Pushing through the saffron colored brush, you notice the sweat on your arms mingling with the blood of the fallen alien attacker. 

You took someone’s life, extinguishing it in a single act. A full fucking grown Volkroth warrior. 

And he fucking deserved it. 

You think about your life before, how you wouldn’t be able to do what you had just done. 

But things are different now. You love an alien barbarian, you’re carrying his child, and you’ve run away from what little civilization exists on this planet. 

You should feel worse about murdering someone, shouldn’t you? 

Drohako’s hand caresses along the messy skin of your arm. 

“Your first kill?” He questions, although you can tell that he already knows the answer when you nod. “You are strong, you protected your family—wear his blood with honor.” 

Our family. 

You push your way through the overgrowth on the door and into the cave. 

As the leather flap snaps free from the grasping vines, dirt sprays and you cough, your lungs assaulted by the dust. 

The hunting cave is even more primitive than you expected. Unlike where you’ve fled from, there are no comforts. No furs line the sleeping space, the fire pit is tiny, and a thick layer of dust coats everything. 

“You don’t get to do much hunting, do you?” You ask with a sarcastic smile. 

“Hunting seasons are short, especially in spawning years,” he shrugs, pushing past you. 

Drohako removes the incubation pod from his satchel as if it was the most fragile thing in the world. His thick fingers struggling to hold the tech just barely bigger than a gallon of milk.

“Hard to think you were ever that small,” you sigh as you flop down and pat your slightly swollen belly. “I feel like I can’t even feel him in there, you know?” 

A panicked look flashes across his purple face. 

“I mean, he’s in there, but I thought it would feel different—like a parasite.” Your alien frowns, and you get that your choice of words has you sounding less than enthused. 

“What I mean is, it doesn’t feel wrong—it feels natural, like it was meant to be.”

When you look back up at my mate’s face, you can see his gaze soften. 

“It’s fate,” He tells you. “Come, the pod needs a blood sample to activate.” 

He reaches his scarred hand out to you, pulling you to standing. When he taps a button along the incubation pod’s side, a robotic arm pops out. 

“It’s strange Volkroth’s births are so high tech, aren’t it? Because, well,” You gesture broadly to your surroundings. The primitive cave isn’t really where you would expect the Volkroth to live after seeing this little space age orb of white metal and glass. 

“We choose to live in the ways of our ancestors—but we’ve adapted to breed without female Volkroth, and it’s mostly thanks to this tech,” He keepings talking even after the little robot arm pokes your finger with a quickly appearing needle. 

“Ouch!” you yelp, as Drohako grabs your hand to prevent it from recoiling from the machine. 

“Still, it’ll be over in a second,” he mutters as he watches the collection tube meet the small droplet of blood welling on your fingertip. With a whoosh, the machine sucks the sanguine fluid away.

As the blood enters the pod, it glows with an orange light. The intensity pulsing like a heartbeat. 

“Done. That wasn’t so bad, now was it my tiny warrior?” His face is filled with pride as he stares down at your still blood covered body.

“Well, no, but—“ he interrupts your words by sucking your finger into his mouth, his rough tongue licking the needle’s wound.

“I promise you pleasure earlier,” he growls as my finger drops from his lips. The sound of his voice is making your pussy quickly slicker, as if on his command. 

When you feel his hand go lower, skirting the hem of your wrap. You grab his wrist. 

“Stop.”

Maybe you’re still full of adrenaline from the attack, or maybe this feeling has always been under the surface–but you want to be in control for the first time in your life. 

“Mate?” His body is frozen, maybe shocked by your command.

“I think I’d like to call the shots this time,” you whisper to your barbarian.

“That’s new,” Drohako cocks an eyebrow. The muscles of his body relax slightly, but his eyes bored into you with a new intensity. “So, what do you want?” 

“I want you to listen, but don’t worry–you’ll enjoy yourself if you do. Will you be a good boy for me?” 

His pupils dilate and he looks like he can taste colors as he looks at you with hooded eyes. 

“If that’s what my mates wants, a good boy is what she’ll get.” 

“I need something comfortable to lie down on,” you say with an unpracticed coolness that surprises you both. 

Drohako swiftly steps past you, pushing the leather flap out of his way, as he grabs the saddle bags from outside. Once back indoors, he kicks some dead leaves and twigs away, clearing a spot on the dirt floor. 

He looks at you with a pleased smile as he unrolls a few of the thick yellow furs from your former home. 

“This will do.” You shrug off your makeshift clothing, already feeling one hundred percent better than before. There’s something so natural about wearing nothing at all around Drohako that makes your heart sing. 

His gaze on your naked body is that of a predator’s, hungry and all-consuming. You lay down slowly, deliberately, spreading your legs so he can take in the view. 

He inhales sharply and pushes the heel of his hand down over his loincloth, onto his quickly hardening bulge. 

“Who said you could touch yourself?” You drawl as my finger traces up your slick lips. “I don’t think I gave you permission.” 

“I thought this was supposed to be fun,” He scowls, clenching his fists at his side. You don’t let the fact that he’s still listening to you go unnoticed. 

“It will be, because the anticipation is part of the pleasure.” 

Whatever’s possessed you to be so bold, you love it. Could it be that letting yourself be used like you’ve always wanted has you finding some new confidence? Have you found my power through being submissive? 

You rub small circles over your clit. The blood of the fallen male mixing with your own slick–Drohako’s breath catches as he watches you work.

“I want you to want me, to feel every pang of desire.” 

You twist your nipple with your free hand, not even attempting to stifle the moan that falls from your lips. 

“Can I touch you, if I can’t touch myself?” His voice is needier than you’ve ever heard it before. 

“Are you uncomfortable? Does my having the control cause you this agony?” You ask him, dipping your fingers into my opening—thrusting deep. “Don’t you wish it was your cock plunging inside me?” 

“Is torture your idea of fun? Does our Volkroth babe fill steel your heart as a barbarian?” Despite his suffering, he smiles. His eyes hold a menacing glint.

“Seeing you squirm is fucking delicious, a reward all in itself.” You pick up your pace, throbbing need ebbs through your core. “Ask me for what you want,” you moan.

Drohako licks his lips, stepping closer. 

“I want to taste you,” he growls. 

“Then crawl and beg me for the honor. Prove to me you want it.”

Drohako, the mighty alien warrior that he is, drops to his knees with a thud. He rakes his nails over the dirt floor, pushing his glorious ass high. Each scrape of his fingers over the ground sends shivers up my spine.

When he finally reaches you, he presses his lips against your trembling skin, worshipping every inch of you with fervent kisses. You moan in ecstasy as he continues to worship at the altar of your pleasure. His tongue laps up your honey, teetering you on the edge of bliss.

You're both consumed by our primal desires, oblivious to the world around you, fueled by an insatiable hunger for each other’s bodies. 

“Make me come, mate,” you hiss as you buck your hips, threading your fingers through his coarse hair and wrapping around his horns.

Drohako probes his fingers into you, spreading you wide with his hands alone. When he sucks on your clit, your core pulses sharply and you shatter.

Your legs attempt the snap shut over his ears, but he pushes them open. His tongue is unrelenting. 

“Stop!” your voice is hoarse as you yell. 

Despite his history of loving your overstimulation, he does. With just one word from you, he immediately ceases his ministrations. He’s under your command, afterall.

“You’ve done such a good job, you deserve a reward—” 

“Serving you, mate, is enough.” He pulls himself until his strong jaw rests on your stomach. His face glistens with your juices. 

He brings his hand to either side of your hips, kissing the small swell on your stomach. He stares adoringly at the pooch, and the promise that lies within.

#monster fucker #monster romance #monster smut #monster lover #smut #terato #monsterfuqqer #aliens #alien romance #alien #Petra palerno #STTABshort #i love aliens #monster fuqqer #alien x human #alien x reader

[leviathanleva]

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Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader

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Request:

This is kind of a weird req and I want to write something for it eventually but-

Fem! Reader who was frozen but eventually escapes and falls for the Ghoul and they fuck a couple times and for some reason she has symptoms of pregnancy and they're like what the fuck but it just turns out that she was pregnant before she was frozen and the Ghoul's reactions and whatever. Angst or fluff I don't really mind :)

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[MDNI, Angst, Smut, Fluff]

[ I don't usually do requests, but I wanted to help out a friend who believed they wouldn't be able to do justice to this prompt. It's sloppy, not perfect, but time is limited and I have other projects that need my attention so I hope this suffices. ]

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Freedom.

Freedom was sweet.

Freedom was bitter.

Since the moment you’d awoken in that Gods-forsaken cryo pod in that wasting away vault you’d known there was no other path except the path of freedom. Stepping over mummified corpses, fellow vault dwellers you presumed, you’d lead wobbly legs and a pounding heart to the entrance of the vault. It felt like yesterday you’d first set foot in there. In reality, you had no idea how many years had passed, but from the looks of the rusting walls and thick blanket of dust, it had been a while.

You took what you could, stuffing a stray children’s backpack you’d found along your scavenging mission, anything and everything that would be necessary for a journey into a land you used to call home. A small pocket knife was the best you could get and it wasn’t the perfect self-defense tool, but with no other choice there wasn’t much you could do but stuff it in the pocket of your suit and hope for a miracle if you ran into trouble.

And trouble you found.

Since your first step into the bone-dry, scalding hot, merciless wasteland, you’d found trouble in the shape of a deranged group of people hammering at the vault door with makeshift weapons. You might have been able to fight off one of them, you doubted given how dizzy and out-of-touch with reality you were, but there was a slim chance. Three of them though, all large burly men with enough scars to put a military general to shame? No, that was impossible. You ended up a writhing mess on the ground, face pushed into the cracked soil and screaming and kicking as you were being taunted and tied up like a good catch after a successful hunt. Trafficking, cannibalism, organ harvesting, death. A slew of words so vile they made your stomach churn and your eyes bulge out of your skull because who in their right mind said such things to an outnumbered, weak woman who pleaded in a broken voice and had tears staining her cheeks?

Then he appeared, your guardian angel.

A man so grotesque on the outside, so vicious and bitter and terrifying, and yet he was the one who shot your captors down. He was the one who cut your wrists and ankles free and helped you sit up as you heaved and choked and sobbed. He was the one who checked you over despite the visible revulsion on his gaunt face at the sight of your vault suit. He’d dragged you to your feet, forced some sense into you, given you a stern reality check of the world he came from and never really shooed you away when you’d started following him around like a lost pup.

You loved him since that day.

And maybe it wasn’t the good kind of love because he’d used you as a distraction for his enemies more than once and never shared his water with you even if you were on the brink of passing out from dehydration. But he also let you sit close to the fire at night, told you stories of his bounty hunts, taught you how to handle a gun and always kept you in his sights lest someone thought you were up for grabs. He was a cruel man, but he was also a kind man.

You never overstepped. Always following his every order, whether it was to hide, to strip bleeding men of their valuables, or to get him another drink when his feet were kicked high and he couldn’t be bothered to do so himself. Always pliant, always willing, no questions asked because you wanted to live despite the hellhole reality you were thrust in. Maybe that’s why he grew fond of you over time, you didn’t rebel against him and took what he gave you with a whisper of gratitude. A good dog, that’s how he saw you. He slowly softened for you, split your rations evenly when you sat down to eat, thrust the canteen in your hands when he noticed your lips were dry, and smushed his hat over your head when the sun was too awful and you were too delicate to withstand it.

Cooper Howard, that was his name, a man made ghoul by the sheer toxicity of the surface, a man who gave you enough scraps to keep your love for him flourishing but never progressed things beyond a one-sided infatuation.

That is until he was left struggling on the floor of an old abandoned farmhouse, a feral ghoul looming above him and pinning him in place and snapping its jaws at him as foul-smelling, viscous drool dribbled down its chin. His hunting knife was gripped tightly, but between keeping himself from being bitten to shreds and holding one of the ghoul’s hands at bay before it could sink into his side and tear at his gut, he was stuck.

When the shot rang out and the ghoul slumped against him lifelessly, he saw you. Holding his gun as you shook violently, about ready to piss yourself because you’d never killed anything remotely resembling a human in your life, eyes wide and lips trembling and knees buckling. Smoke leisurely rose from the tip of the barrel and as he pushed the corpse off himself you sunk to your arse and burst into a fit of haggard breaths and disturbed whines.

You didn’t resist when he picked you up with alien tenderness, didn’t protest when he stuffed you in an old rickety couch and crushed you beneath his weight with a handful of sweet praises. You didn’t pull away in disgust when his tongue pushed past your lips in search of your own, twirling, dancing, letting words spill without ever being spoken. He wasn’t gentle, since the moment you heard his belt unbuckling he was all pawing hands and chopped curses, fiddling with your clothes until his need became too much to bear and he simply ripped them off. He threw a weak promise to get you new ones, but you couldn't care less at that moment. High-pitched mewls and desperate grunts bounced off the walls as he took you on that couch, rutting into you like a man possessed and gripping onto you so firmly as if you’d come to your senses any moment now and run away from him.

A radstorm raged outside, clashing against the boarded-up windows as the pitter-patter of acid rain poured against the tin roof. You never even noticed, too drunk on the sloppy sounds coming from the slick mess of your conjoined bodies, on the verge of a climax so raw it would surely knock you out. Blunt fingernails sank in your supple thighs, scarred hips slammed into yours as he fucked you dumb into the couch. His mouth never left yours, whether it was to keep himself quiet in case too many loving words escaped or because he craved your taste like a rabid dog did blood, you didn’t know. When your ankles locked around his waist he snarled, whatever self-control he’d managed to scrape by completely dissipating as he drove himself deeper. The tip of his cock snapped against the barrier of your squishy cervix so deliciously and you screamed his name in desperation and he couldn’t fucking take it anymore. He released one of your hips to slide a hand between your bodies and drag his rough thumb over your swollen clit. Your back arched, eyes rolled back and mouth agape as you bombarded him with barely coherent sentences that he didn’t deserve. He clutched at your hair when you clamped down on him, milking him for everything he had while he rocked out his release with face stuffed in the crook of your neck.

Something in him changed after that night.

It might have been the unfathomably long time without a caring touch or him finally succumbing to the little voices in his head telling him what he held for you wasn’t simply fondness. He took you every chance he got. In a guest house, against the wall of a bar after one too many drinks, bent over on a chewed-up fence after scavenging another farmhouse. He was relentless and you loved that about him. You loved everything about him. Always needy and ready and he couldn’t ask for more because this was the closest he could get to expressing himself when it came to you.

Life was good.

Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

You wince as the needle prickles your skin before retracting back in the Pip-boy. The green screen whirls, loading up and analyzing your blood sample for a full body scan. You give the damn thing a few smacks when it freezes and stutters.

Now really wasn’t the time for technical difficulties.

“You okay?”

Apparently, no matter how hard you had tried to hide your bubbling panic, it was still evident enough for Cooper to notice. He’s looking at you with a hint of suspicion, attention averted from the steaming can of cram he’d been stuffing in his mouth.

“I’m good, no worries.” you muster up a weary smile and instinctively tuck the Pip-boy closer to your stomach.

When the Vault Boy pops up on the screen with all the information available regarding your condition, you tense up. Your fingers hesitate to turn the cog to the main body scan as doubts and confusion and raw, untamable fear chew at your sensitive stomach and tug you slowly towards the gates of insanity.

“Don’t look okay to me.” Cooper straightens from his slouched-over position over the measly fire and sets aside his food before clasping a hand over one of his thighs. “Was wrong? Was I too rough again?” there’s a teasing scowl brightening his usually stoic expression, he scoffs and shakes his head. “I told you t’ smack my shoulder when I get too loose, woman. You never listen.”

You want to cry and laugh, but you do neither.

“That’s not it, Cooper.”

“Then speak for fuck’s sake!” he grumbles and gestures to you with slight agitation.

You pay him no mind, having delved too deep in the premises of your mind on what you were supposed to do if you read that single life-changing word on the scan. With a huff and a mental pat on your back, you turned the cog and opened the main body scan.

“Pregnant.”

It made sense. It explained the morning sickness that you hid, being forced out of your sleep while Cooper snored lightly next to you, and carefully pulling away before rushing to a safe spot where you could empty your stomach without being seen. You never told him, just jammed RadAway after RadAway, hoping it was poisoning or maybe some sort of flu. When the cravings came, you started second-guessing. You never gave into them, throwing caps left and right for a slice of some nearly impossible-to-get delicacy was unthinkable, you had to survive and there was no room for luxury.

You failed to spot the rugged ghoul as he left his seat and crept closer, spurred by your awkward demeanor, until he was kneeling right next to you and silently sharing the sight of the green graph.

“What in the hell…”

You recoiled at his words, at his realization, and tried to cover the Pip-boy with your hand and hide the thunderous revelation of your condition.

He was having none of it.

He smacked your hand away and gripped your forearm so tight you shuddered, bringing it closer to his eyes as his face contorted.

“What the fuck does this mean?” he spits and looks at you with something vile in those whiskey-colored eyes you loved so much.

“I don’t – ” you swallow thickly, crumbling under his gaze and snuffing out the need to rip away from him and run. You meet his stare for a split second before turning away. “ – I haven’t…Not with anyone except you.”

Lightning strikes into his core and he pulls away like bitten by a snake.

“The hell you mean you haven’t fucked anyone ‘cept me?” he stands, intimidating and cold, berating you with just his visage and nothing more. “How the fuck did you get pregnant then?”

“I’ve been with you since the day I left the vault, you know this.” you reach out for him, desperate for some sort of comfort, desperate for him to calm down because you couldn’t mentally take on both him and the news. “Cooper, please.”

He shoots you down with a snarl and a spine-chilling glare.

“Don’t fucken’ touch me.”

He’s pacing, trotting around like a cornered animal, the spurs on his boots clinking, a sickening cacophony that roots you in place and keeps your mouth shut. You don’t know what to say, you’re not a liar, yet you wish this was some twisted joke and you could laugh it off and confirm it wasn’t real.

A hand is rubbing vigorously at his chin as he tries to think, but there’s nothing in his head except that one single word that means so much and makes absolutely no sense.

He knew you weren’t lying, he’d always kept you within arm’s length, there was no way for you to even sneak past him without being noticed.

It still hurt though, the image of you leaving because he was a rotten man who’d struck gold by finding you. He was no good for you, never would be, and it tore him to shreds because he knew all of this and still he kept you by his side and cocked his gun at anyone who tried to step too close.

Why wouldn’t you bed another man when he looked like a walking corpse and acted even worse? Why wouldn’t you ditch him to be with a nice bartender and a good-mannered farmboy who would treat you like a lady should be treated?

Why wouldn’t you cheat him out of the only happiness he had?

“Is not fucking possible, sweetheart.” he finally speaks, faltering at your audible sobs. The idea of you slipping past his fingers to sleep with someone else is pushed to the side by the absolutely pathetic sight of you curled up on the floor and crying.

Ghouls were sterile, all of them, 100%, there was no way for him to knock you up even if he wanted to. But the Pip-boy said otherwise and now he was left questioning the very foundation of his existence.

“I know that.” you sputter through choppy hiccups. “But you’re the only man I’ve been with...It doesn’t make fucking sense.” you clutch at your sides, waterfalls streaming down your cheeks and pooling under your chin, eyes distant and jittery. “What if it’s deformed because of the radiation? Or if it’s not even alive? Or – What am I supposed to do…”

His body moves despite his protests.

He kneels in front of you, encasing you between his thighs, his fingers twitching and rising as he drowns in the long-forgotten feeling of being presented with such news. His hands are shaking and he rests them over your shoulders and pretends he can’t feel his pulse rampaging in his throat.

“What do you wanna do?”

It’s such a simple question, but coming from him under such a premise makes your head spin and your heart stop.

“I – ” you press your forehead against the center of his collarbones, arms protectively curling over your belly because despite not showing there was someone in there. Someone precious. “ – I don’t know…I’d like to – I don’t know.”

You stop and start, cutting off words that you weren’t ready to tell him yet and he wasn’t ready to hear either. But life didn’t care if you were ready or not, things happened, consent or not, and now you were both stuck in a mess you’d unwittingly made all by yourselves. There was always the easy route – find a settlement, get to the doc, have it removed, done deal, easy peasy.

But did you really want that?

It wasn’t just your kid, it was his too and him not saying a word, not even mentioning discarding it made things so much harder.

No, he gave you a choice, he put everything in your hands and he was holding you while you fought a silent battle that would dictate the entirety of your future.

“I think – ”

“ – I ain’t goin’ fucken’ nowhere.” he slices through your hesitation like butter, body rigid and jaw clenched because for once he was trying to be a man and not a monster.

Maybe even a father.

You shatter in his arms like glass and he presses one of his palms against the back of your head while the other circles your waist and brings you closer.

“You’d stay?” you ask with such horror and disbelief that it clutches at his chest and he struggles to breathe. You’re no coward, despite how heavy the air feels, you look up at him and you’re so vulnerable and angelic that he forgets every setback that would come his way. “If I kept it…you’d stay?”

He can’t answer, the words refuse to form, but he holds your gaze with calm stability, a good masquerade to hide a mind that was racing and a heart that was pounding so heavily he felt his entire body pulsing. Instead, he leaned in and pressed his chapped lips against your forehead in a voiceless promise.

You suck in a breath like it’s your first and cling to the collar of his coat, disappearing in his form, hiding from the world that was so cruel yet gifted you with something so precious.

The Pip-boy is still lit and waiting, the scan bright and piercing. You skim over it absentmindedly, a simple curious flick, then look again and squint your eyes at the tiny text printed under your pregnancy announcement.

“Four months.”

You’d only been out of cryo for three…

He followed your wide-eyed stare, he was no fool, he could do basic math.

You’d been pregnant before meeting him, before leaving the vault, before the bombs.

You want to puke. You want to rip your skin off and bury yourself alive because for the love of God it couldn’t be just perfect, there had to be some sick underlying thing to ruin everything. It wasn’t his, he was right, ghouls couldn’t have children.

It wasn’t his child.

You look disgusted and utterly pained because the realization makes you mourn at the idea of carrying his baby. You wanted to, you’d give anything for it to be his and not some random bloke you couldn’t even remember the face of. You wanted it to be his…

You search his face for anger or disappointment or anything that would prepare you for what was to come. Why would he stay if the damn thing wasn’t even his? He had his own problems, his mission. You were just an obstacle that had nearly made him believe he was going to be a father and maybe it was his second chance at doing it right.

There was nothing though.

He simply blinked at you, lips parted as he formed a sentence that had you pledge yourself to him for as long as you stood and breathed.

“That don’t change a damn thing.”

Tag list: @bountydroid @v3lv3tf0x @silverose365

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout tv series #the ghoul fanfic #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #the ghoul fallout #x reader

[claymorexpunisher]

I'll Shut You Up (18+ Fic) (Ch. 2/?)

Pairing(s): Rhea Ripley/Fem. Reader

Disclaimer: This is NSFW. If that's not your thing, keep scrolling. I try to tag my work appropriately and if you still choose to click and read, do so at your own discretion. Thank you for the love, always, and I hope you enjoy!

Summary: It’s pretty well known that Rhea and Fem. Reader can’t stand one another. Reader thinks Rhea’s way cockier than she should be and Rhea thinks as highly about Reader as much as she thinks about the dirt at the bottom of her boot. Well… so they say, at least. A packed hotel mishap forces them to bunk together, and Rhea presses her luck by running her mouth.

Fic Tag(s): 18+, enemies to hatefucking, forced proximity, overbooked hotel, WM weekend, Bottom Sub!Rhea, Dom Top!Reader, bratty!Rhea, a little bit of oral (Rhea receiving) anal play/penetration, size difference, strap-on, nipple play, hair-pulling, spit for lube (I KNOWWW IM SORRY), begging, spanking, biting, slapping, choking.)

Chapter Word Count: 1,739

Prev Chapter

Because fate is a cruel asshole, I got exactly what I didn’t want.

“Absolutely fucking not.” I repeated, this time louder, my hands clenched so hard around the handle of my suitcase that my hands shook.

I watched Rhea’s smirk widen even more; she was clearly taking pleasure in my obvious irritation.

“I’m not sharing a room with you.” I spat once I shut the door behind me and I walked further into the room.

“Not like you have a choice, sweetheart.” Rhea replied, cool as a cucumber in bed.

The sheets covered her lower half until she decided to peel them back and saunter over towards me just to give me a condescending pat on the head as she toward over me, laughing at the way I glowered at her.

As I broke are stare-off, my eyes mistakenly wandered over her muscled frame, over her black sports bra and I stopped short- no pun intended- at her v-shaped underwear that quite literally left zero to the imagination.

“Eyes up here, cutie.” Rhea purred.

Her pointer and middle finger slowly lifted my chin and her eyes sparkled even as I batted her hand away and frowned deeper.

“I know I’m a sight for sore eyes but-”

“Oh my god. Do you ever shut the fuck up?!” I yelled as I rolled my eyes and shouldered past her with my luggage and I heaved the dark blue suitcase onto the couch a few feet from the bed.

“You always say that. And yet…” My skin prickled as I heard her coming up behind me and her warm breath ghosted over my ear as she murmured, “…and you’ve not made a single attempt to make me.”

There.

She’d used two of the magic words you could throw at a Dom Top and I began to salivate before I pulled myself back.

Barely.

“But then again, I don’t see how tiny little thing like you could possibly even try.” She laughed.

This time I decided I wasn’t gonna let her get the best of me.

“I don’t think you really want me to sort you out, sweetheart.” I replied, letting her see my words for what they were.

“Ooh, but I think I do.” Rhea replied with a slightly raspy giggle, gasping softly as her eyes landed on my open suitcase.

I was taking out my pj’s, completely forgetting about the red strap-on dildo that I had wrapped in plastic and stuffed onto the side of my suitcase.

“What are you doing with that?!” She asked, shock laced her tone.

Shock that irritated me to no end, but again, I remained calm.

Right then and there, I decided that enough was enough.

If Rhea was gonna keep baiting me, then like any effective Dom Top, I’d bite.

I’d bite until she yielded just like any brat eventually did if you push the right buttons.

“What do you think I’m doing with it? Putting a sock over it and making puppet shows on my spare time?” I retorted.

I watched Rhea’s hand reach around me towards the toy and I let her snatch it.

I was gonna let her have her fun for now…

While I continued sorting out my toiletries and picking my pjs, I stole a glance behind me, watching her inspect the toy.

I was immediately plagued my filthy thoughts of shoving that toy down Rhea’s throat until tears pooled in her eyes, making it nice and wet for what I was going to do her, and it was all I could do to not clench my thighs.

Once again, I was caught staring at the Aussie woman and our eyes met.

That damn persistent and infuriating smirk was back on her lips as she put the toy back where it was, but I set aside along with its harness.

“Who’s gonna use that on you? Because I really don’t see a tiny little thing like you using it on anybo-” Rhea’s words cut off as I interrupted, but I didn’t bother verbally answering her question.

“You walk around like you’re hot shit. Like you’re Hunter’s golden child… and I almost can’t blame you entirely. The way he’s paraded you around and talked big game about you…” I chucked and turned around to face Rhea, noticing the small step she took backwards.

Yeah, I was definitely starting to figure this woman out…

I reached out and pulled her towards me by her the elastic of her underwear.

I smirked a little as I watched and felt Rhea’s stomach muscles flex as she inhaled sharply.

“But you’re nothing more than a delusional shot at redemption and absolution for him. Absolution from his sins against someone he can no longer apologize to. You are the living embodiment of his guilt and regret. That is all you are to him. And deep down I think you know that… But he’s put so much energy and time into you and you… for as much as you say you’re no longer a people-pleaser-” I looked up at Rhea sharply, sensing that she was going open her smart mouth and I wasn’t wrong.

I was pleased to watch her mouth snap shut as soon as steely gaze met hers.

“Yes, I’ve watched some of your interviews, I’m not dumb. I study everyone in this locker room nowadays. Especially you.- And you walk around like you’re this… this alpha female. But you’re nothing more than an insecure little brat who needs the validation and a lot of attention and you don’t know how else to get it, so you’re completely okay with cosplaying as someone for some applause and attention and praise from your boss or from the fans. And now that I think about it, maybe even from me.” I continued and I noticed a switch flip at that, as if I’d hit a nerve.

But still, she said nothing.

Hm. Boring.

“You walk around as if being hand-picked by someone like him is some type of flex. Sweetheart, if you were sick and tired of cosplaying as a big, bad and Dominant woman when what you really want and need is to be in your place, then all ya had to do was ask.” My voice was down to a mere whisper. I watched goosebumps raise on Rhea’s skin as my fingers continued to explore the skin on her abdomen with every word I hissed at her.

Her momentary obedience was short lived and her eyes became furious.

Red-hot anger burned in them, along with something else entirely underneath that she seemed to try to smother.

But I was nothing if not observant…

All of it fueled me.

I drank it all up, and my eyes glinted in amusement now as her hips bucked a little and she silently urged my hand lower as if her body had a mind of its own and as if her anger was propelling her actions.

But I didn’t give her what she wanted.

Not yet at least.

The hand that was on the waistband of her panties slowly snaked upwards again, and my thighs became slick with my arousal as Rhea let out an involuntary sound that was a cross between a whimper and a growl.

“Fuck. You. You don’t know me-” Rhea snipped, eyes blazing with fury but I swiftly interrupted.

“Neither do you.” I replied sharply.

My traveling hand suddenly came upwards to grip her neck, not quite cutting off her breathing as much as cutting off the rant I knew was on its way.

The way she froze and suddenly went pliant fascinated me… and it just proved my points.

“You’re nothing but a carbon copy of someone else. I mean look at you, Rhea.” I said as my other hand went up to fiddle with a strand of her dyed hair.

“You have no idea who you are. Who you really are. You’re all bark and no fucking bite. Playing the role of someone else even when the cameras are offand I’m sick of it.” I growled. “I promise you, I could have you squealing like the fuckin virgin you seem to think I am, in .5 seconds.” I chuckled as her eyes widened for a fraction of a second.

Some of that cocky defiance returned to Rhea’s eyes but I could tell it was half-hearted.

But it fueled me just as much.

“Show me, then. Show me who I am… put me in my place.” Rhea purred, her tone and gaze seductive as she gazed down at my lips and back up at my eyes.

She then took advantage of the fact that my hand slackened a bit in surprise.

She was quick, but I was quicker and I moved my head before Rhea could sink her teeth into my bottom lip and I my hand squeezed a tad bit harder and I watched her struggle not to go completely pliant.

She was definitely a stubborn one but I didn’t mind.

From her demeanor alone I could tell that she was goading me some more, not quite believing that I’d deliver on my promise yet curious to find out if I would.

“Okay… then how do you want me, ma’am?” Rhea shot back sarcastically as she walked towards the bed once I let go of her throat.

“Like this?” She asked as she crawled onto the bed, back arched and her ass up in the air, inviting me to spank it so I did just that.

I chuckled as her body jolted and she gave a yelp as both my hands cracked down on each of her ass cheeks as soon as she settled down behind her on my knees.

“That works, actually. Hands behind your back.” I commanded.

Of course she didn’t immediately comply, so I did it myself, holding at least one of her wrists over her back.

“Fuck! I hate you-” She began to rant as I pulled her panties down and I brought my hand down on her ass again and again, until her ass cheeks turned the gorgeous red I had envisioned.

Her body trembled even as she fought and I could see her pussy glistening with arousal.

I stole a look into her eyes and noticed them becoming glassier by the second and that made satisfaction and arousal course through my veins, hitting the spot just as much as a delicious pot of my morning fucking coffee...

Next Chapter

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#rhea ripley #rhea ripley fan fiction #rhea ripley smut #rhea ripley x fem reader #rhea ripley x reader #wwe fan fiction #wwe smut #wwe fic

[luminiamore]

plug connie springer x black stripper reader

warnings: boy is down bad, a little bit of mikasa x reader??, mikasa is famous heree, connie is a tease, he’s also hispanic asf, ya’ll didn’t even make it to the club, hints of yandere, mirror action, he fucks u while he’s crossfaded, wall sex, he talks a lot, dude is rambling, good ole cream pie, gotta love breeding

a/n: i got carried away (⌒_⌒;)

can you guys tell i like my men desperate lol, this is so long i might make this a series (4.9k words)

one down, like five more to goooo

The lifestyle of stripping was something you truly couldn’t get enough of. The late nights. The smooth poles. Dancing on those smooth poles. And most importantly, the money. Oh fuck, how you loved the money. Living the fast life gave you such a rush that you adored it just as much as you hated it.

It’s not your first choice, not by a long shot. You were raised in Jamaica, New York. And your parents., you loved them. Honestly, you did, but you would probably be the most miserable person in the world if you kept heeding their strict Christian views.

You tried everything to reach up to their impossibly high standards. They wanted you to get an A in every assignment? Try A+. They wanted you to wear less revealing clothes because ‘No man will ever want you’? You’re showing up to your classes in turtlenecks just to keep their mouths shut.

You even made it a routine to clean the entire house top to bottom on Sundays since they started complaining that ‘You never do anything around this house.’ It was beyond annoying. You were fucking tired.

Growing up in Notre Dame School of Manhattan was nothing short of horrible. Proclaimed ‘good girls’ snorting more than half a line of coke in the school bathrooms. Drugs you aren’t even sure how they got access to, but then again, they are rich white kids. Teachers and hypocritical professors pretend to be oblivious to the bullshit drama their students are in. Your parents’ oblivion for keeping you here is even greater. Even after sharing stories with them, they would advise you to be more like the students at your school.

It was a miracle you didn’t turn out that far gone, despite what your profession is currently. You’ve smoked a little weed here and there. Experience some sort of awakening tripping off shrooms the weekend your parents took a trip to Barbados.

Without you, of course. Despite this, you were always taken care of. Your differences in opinion would never justify their abandonment of you. You knew they loved you when they got you a ticket to see The Weeknd live after you got a perfect score on your final, not after telling you their opinions on the matter, of course.

‘I don’t know why you listen to such devil music.’

‘I should’ve never gotten you this trash.’

The guilt you felt for wanting to have fun kept you from almost going. You went anyway, choosing to avoid allowing their misery to affect you.

Everything was fine; you played along with this draining game, and everything was fine. Until they decided to kick you out for finding a small baggie of blow (that wasn’t even yours) peeking out from the top of your purse. You don’t even know how it got there.

Honestly, you didn’t. You tried to communicate that while they were packing all the clothes they could find in your closet into two medium-sized luggage bags. But they wouldn’t listen, opting for screaming so loud you could see the neighbors peeking through the window. At the very least, they were kind enough not to throw them onto the concrete ground. Their stubbornness was unyielding. You just couldn’t get through to them.

You were able to rent an apartment you had put a deposit on a month before this happened because of the money in your savings account. Unfortunately, your funds were only sufficient for rent for two months due to groceries and other necessities.

When graduation came, your parents were nowhere to be found, so you realized that you had to find a means of earning money before you ended up sleeping on the streets.

You tried looking for a ’regular’ job -- a barista, a waitress, even applied to be a fucking bartender. It’s not as easy as it seems when those who already have one talk about finding a job. Why do they claim that they need to hire immediately and yet still reject you? Considering that your lack of work experience prevents you from being hired, you feign a little on your resume. Turns out, you’re not a very good liar.

Where was pretty privilege when you needed it?!

Despite applying to 500 companies, none could offer you a job within the next two weeks, which happened to be when your rent was due.

You really had no other option. You took your pretty ass and marched to the nearest club. Which happened to be the... Hustlers club? Why did that sound familiar? 

Upon entering, you outright demanded to speak with the person in charge, and when you saw him, he demanded that he offer you a job. Lucky for you, the owner happened to be there that day. He observed the little moment you had when you stormed in..well, he observed the way your tits bounced in your low-cut tee and immediately pulled you into his office.

He had the thought that you would make him a lot of money if you worked for him, and he’s sure his business partner would agree if she saw you. He just had to make sure.

A figure appeared in the corner, striking up from the edge of his desk and making a slight sniffling noise. A girl, a beautiful one with distinct Asian features. Her leather skirt was short, only barely covering past 2 inches of her thigh. Her tits were pushed up to a necklace in a black corset-like top. An ornamental gold necklace.. with the letter M.

Wait. Is that-

That’s where it dawned on you why the name of this club sounded so familiar. On a random Tuesday afternoon, you find yourself standing in front of a celebrity. You were standing in front of Mikasa Ackerman. The Mikasa Ackerman. As in, owner of Mirror Palais, the highest-paid model in Japan, co-owner of one of the best clubs in New York, Mikasa Ackerman. Oh shit.

You remember seeing her on an Instagram reel in front of this very club, along with the other owner. The other owner, his name was.. what was it again? He swivels you around to face him, almost as if he hears your thoughts,

“Eren Yeager, sweetheart.”

A soft handshake accompanied by a gentle tone. He was quick to introduce you to the beautiful eyes that stayed fixed on your face since you walked into the dimly lit room. Eren guides you towards the brown leather couch where his friend is sitting,

“And, this is the lovely Mikasa. I’m sure you sure you know who she is.”

Feeling intimidated by her intense gaze, you nodded quickly and stumbled a bit when introducing yourself. Her following words didn’t calm your nerves anyhow,

“A real pleasure meeting you, beautiful.”

Eren could tell that Mikasa already liked you; the girl was practically fucking you with her eyes. But he wasn’t here for that; he cleared his throat to draw attention to him in the room. He had a goal in mind: to get you signed up. Eren wanted you dancing in his club today.

He sits you down and swiftly gets into business mode.

‘What kind of position are you looking for?’

‘What’s the minimum salary you want to earn here?’

He tries to get a sense of what you’re looking for before proposing to work as a stripper. Although he wants you to, he can compromise. Server position and the minimum salary you asked for was $65,000.

“And I’m not leaving til I get that or something better.”

Well, you wanted better, right? Eren explains to you that his club didn’t have any more waitress positions and Mikasa...

Well, that day, you found out that she was really good with words. She did a great job at convincing you that you’d make double the amount you asked for moving your perfect body on the pole. I mean...

“Look at that body of yours. You’d be pretty famous here, sweetheart.”

And shit, she was right. You really couldn’t blame the girls who never wanted to leave, simply too addicted to the drugs, to the fast life, especially to the money. The amount of money you made every night was simply insurmountable. And you found it funny because it wasn’t just the money. Really, it wasn’t.

The sensation that occurs when your lower body rotates on the pole. The art of dancing like this ignited such a passion from you. The attention, from the men and the women. One of the most popular clubs in the city had you as a crowd favorite. You knew it shouldn’t be something you liked; you never wanted to get too wrapped up in a life like this. But shit, it was sensational.

You didn’t let it slip, even though you shined on the stage. There are people who would take advantage of you even more if they knew you actually enjoyed what you do; you know this. When it was time to go, you left with no hesitation. You had to remind yourself of what you were here for, to provide and care for yourself until you find a better job.

And you stuck to that goal for a solid five months; nothing deterred you. Of course, that’s what you’re thinking. In reality, from the very first moment Eren had you on that pole, you found yourself coming back for one reason. Even if you weren’t subconsciously aware of it, him.

Connie, you heard the owner greet one day. He was definitely attractive. There was something about him, something about how he threw money at you and only you. Your body shivered without fail due to the gray eyes that watched your every move. The way he man spreads and tilts his head back when taking a hit, revealing neck tattoos that you know cover his stomach under that black Nike Tech hoodie. He was so fucking fine.

Only a few men can pull off a buzz cut. How does he do it so effortlessly? Maybe it was the color? How would he change it like it was nothing every two weeks?

You noticed he had a thin mustache, and when you got closer to his face.. Fuck. Was that a diamond nose ring?

He was a drug dealer. You caught that three months ago. Around that point, he began asking for you to exclusively serve his section. Eren had no problem with that; after all, this was his friend. But Connie started getting.. greedy. He wanted more than that. He started getting bold. He wanted your body on that twirling solely for him.

“Hell no.”

Eren filled the quiet section. Your body was followed by both green and gray eyes as you moved on the stage, with Connie’s eyes being more intense and focused compared to the other. The thriving club was filled with both of them enjoying a glass of Richard Hennessy Cognac in the VIP area.

Connie never had a good relationship with mixing Henny and weed. He was aware of that. He has a tendency to indulge in sinful thoughts. He didn’t let that stop him from rolling the blunt anyway.

His mind would get drawn towards dangerous places, mainly when he saw you. The way your thong disappeared between your cheeks under your lacey two-piece made him ready to fuck you right there. To show those perverted and prickly eyes that stuck like glue onto you that they could never have you. That you were his. Or, you will be.

Connie hasn’t even fucked you yet. Hasn’t gone anywhere near the sticky wetness he knows you have in between your legs.

You two indulge in what you could only describe as subtle grinding in the back rooms. All the dancing that you’re supposed to be doing on the pole, you’re doing on his lap instead. It was against the rules; you especially knew this. That didn’t stop either of you. Well, more so Connie than you.

At first, his best friend was against it. The customers you brought in were earning him at least $100k a night. While his other show girls were beautiful, you radiated a different type of aura onto the stage. You were something different. It was genuinely insane how you could move, you didn’t even have prior training. You found that every night, you got better than the previous; it was a natural talent.

Connie, being Connie, offered Eren twice that amount for every night he gets to spend with you alone. That was every night you were on the clock, besides, he had no problem making that back by the next day. When it came to his girl, there was never a problem for him.

And Connie never regretted the amount he spent on you. Being alone with you was something he had grown to crave incessantly. To him? It was worth it. He’d get so excited to just walk into the back room and find you waiting for him. All pretty, just tempting him to ruin you. Then, when you start performing in front of him, your body moves in a way that would hypnotize the stoic man.

And it wasn’t just your body to Connie. There was a certain allure to you. He was observant of the way you moved, spoke, and behaved. He understood that someone like you doesn’t come by every day. He just had to have you, own you. Your body, your fucking soul, everything you possessed, he wanted it for himself. He didn’t care if it sounded selfish; he’s okay with being that when it comes to you.

It’s reasonable to assume that he would have the final say on what you wear for him since he was the only person you would dance for, right? That was the route he took to get your number. That’s the reason you got a text from him while you were getting ready to shower for your night shift.

One of his friends- Was he talking about Mikasa?

You could have given it more thought, but your shift was only an hour away, and Connie was on his way. Using a small gray towel, you drape it onto the fat of your wet boobs. Your hands lather your Shea Butter oil on the top of your left thigh quickly, but you stop when your doorbell rings.

“Coming!”

You yelp, quickly slip on your slippers, and move toward the door. The man had always taken you home, and on the other side of the coin, he always took you to work. You didn’t bother asking how he knew your address the first time, afraid that it would spark an answer you’re not ready to hear. Occasionally, if you were too intoxicated to carry yourself to your apartment, he would act as your knight in shining armor and hold you in bridal fashion to your door without saying a word.

It should have been simple enough: he goes in and gets out. And it would have been that simple if he hadn’t seen your pink lacy thong loosely hanging off your door knob. He was simply a man, one who desired to feel every part of you. The tip of that thong was hanging out of his pockets when Connie left your apartment that night.

Swinging your door open makes you almost breathless. Connie was a tall person. Everything about him just screamed: big. He was easily over 6 feet 2 inches tall, and he came to your door carrying a medium-sized shopping bag. You step back, observing as he comes in right after taking his slides off by your door.

“You’re here early, Con. I’m not ready yet.” You whisper, still a little perplexed he’s already here. Despite the amount of money you know he has, you rarely ever see him in anything other than a white tee and black sweats. Today was no different. Minor differences in each pair made it clear that they were different every time. You suppose it had something to do with his dangerous line of work.

He hands you the cream-colored bag, and his eyes never leave your lips all the while. You suddenly became very conscious that you were breathing the same air as Connie, who appeared right in front of you. He leans in, the ghost of his lips felt against your collarbone,

“You smell good,” His tatted hands sneakily climbed their way onto your wide hips. Before muttering a curse under his breath, he squeezes once. For the first time since meeting you, Connie isn’t being truthful. He didn’t come to your apartment to take you to your job. Tonight, he had different intentions.

He came tonight to put a full stop to the cat-and-mouse game that you guys have been playing for the past five months. Two fully packed blunts and three shots of Don Julio convinced him that his attraction towards you was not going away.

He should’ve realized it when he started making a habit of watching over you outside of the strip club. She needs someone to protect her, he thinks. You don’t pay attention to your surroundings. You have no idea, don’t you? Your beauty could easily lead to someone from the club becoming obsessed and following you. Anyone who wasn’t him.

He also should’ve realized it when he started beating his dick into overstimulation to your pictures on Instagram. And after your shift. Of course, before your shift. Eren witnessed him having to excuse himself during your shift because his dick was painfully throbbing against his boxers.

Connie really liked you. And somewhere in that twisted mind of his, he believed that you two were truly meant for each other. He should’ve never waited this long, “Put this on, ma.”

He pushes the bag towards your chest and moves your hips in the direction of your room. Your thighs twitch as you hum and make a little run to the end of your hall. He follows after you slowly, eyes shifting to the way your ass peaks out from under the towel.

This scene feels oddly familiar. A predator stalking its prey, just waiting for the right moment to pounce. You didn’t know what Connie came here to do; in your mind, you were just getting ready for work. He almost felt sorry for you, almost felt sorry for how he was going to ruin you, almost.

He made sure to take his time approaching your door so that you could be ready and prepared for him when he arrived. And you didn’t disappoint. In front of your vanity makeup mirror, you were sat on the cushion chair. Applying what looked like oil from a flower bottle onto your neck.

You look better in the dress than he expected. Your fat tits sitting so perfectly, and the lace meshing with your skin. You pretended to ignore him behind your seat, starting to feel the weight of his presence around you. This was probably the thinnest item you had ever owned, yet his hands pressing on your shoulders made your skin feel like it was on hot volcanic soil.

You catch his eye in the mirror, and despite your flustered state, he doesn’t grant you the satisfaction of looking away. Not even while his hands lower down to your rib cage, right under your plush boobs. Especially not even while his giant palms wrap around the fabric covering your nipple in a tight grip.

You gasp, a moan bottling in your throat, “C-Con!”

It could have been the way you uttered his name or the way your head pressed against his chest. Regardless, Connie lost control and dropped his head into the crook of your neck, beginning to sprinkle small, wet kisses. He grips harder, and you... you get louder.

“You drive me fucking insane,” Your flesh is now exposed to his hands as they slip into the dress. “Skin so soft,” He kneads his hands into your chest, squeezing as if he’s hoping milk will pour out of them. He groans, “God, you’re so perfect mama.” The thought of that makes a shiver run down his body.

Poor Mikasa, she spent all night working on that dress once she heard it was for you. Connie didn’t even let it last for a good ten minutes before you heard a faint rip sound in the midst of your whimpers.

Your brain is struggling to keep up with the speed of everything happening. You attempt to tilt your head back, but he shuts it down right away. “Eyes on the mirror.” He moves one hand to your throat, keeping you still. You feel your body shake under his hold, twitching slightly from his small attack. You didn’t have the courage to look away, not even as far as you could.

“I’ve been so patient.” Squeezing your left nipple, he drops his fingers down the ripped material until they reach the top of your pussy lips. “Cumming to the thought of your pretty face like a fucking teenager,” His words bring a mewl to your lips. Your body starts sweating, nervous at the way his fingers are just rubbing circles around your skin.

Would he pull away if your hips jerked against his hand? You hoped against all odds that he wouldn’t. You’ve never allowed yourself to feel this desperate for anyone, but being around Connie left you like this. You were at a loss for what to do. Your thoughts were racing to find something, anything, that would bring him closer to you.

It’s unclear what motivated him to answer your prayers. But in the next moment, he pushed his middle finger into the center of where your slick was overflowing onto the cushion. He creates slight tap sounds with the puddle between your fat lips, playing with you.

Your eyes close for just a second and burst wide open when you feel a sudden intrusion in your sticky hole. “A-Ah!” A sob leaves your lips, your eyes falling back to your face in the mirror when you register his next words,

“Eyes on the mirror, mama. I haven’t done anything to you yet,” As Connie slowly moves his fingers into and out of your dripping core, his eyes struggle to keep track of your face in the mirror or the stain you’re beginning to make on his digits.

He settles with the stain you’re creating. He’s massaging your walls in a way that you can’t help but cover them in a creamy white. It’s impossible not to moan with shaky breaths, whispering his name. He figures the wait was worth it. His dreams couldn’t have prepared him for the real thing. It was more noisy, was more sticky, and it was.. real.

What do you taste like?

Your hips shake as he suddenly removes his fingers from you. You whimper, annoyed by the absence of the touch of fingers on your wet walls, but you stop yourself when you see his movements in the mirror. His mouth wraps around his middle and ring finger, sucking your juices to the fullest. Your breathing stops when he moans, “You taste so fucking good.”

Connie silently pulls you up from your seat and presses you against the nearest wall, causing the ripped dress to fall to the floor. Instantly, your back arched into the prominent bulge that was pressing on your bare ass. Your thoughts wander back to your last session with Connie in the backroom. All that desperate grinding.

“You were squeezing so tight around my fingers,” He pushes his sweat down to remove his throbbing hard dick with a little effort. “Y’gonna squeeze my dick like that next?”

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

You jump every time the base of his cock slaps down on your ass. Both of his hands grip your sides, his eyes rolling back as he slides his dick back and forth in between your leaking pussy lips.

“Oh f-fuck! Connie,”

Your voice cracks when you call out for him, and he smiles. He cannot deny that this is the perfect thing; it was always meant to be like this. He spreads your cheeks as wide as he can, lining his tip up to your hole that’s clenching around nothing.

“Yeah, b-baby?” Fuck, you were so wet. “Want me to fuck you? Want- Oh fuck. Want Connie to make you scream?”

Your lips tremble, and you try to slide his dick inside you by pushing your hips back. He lets you, too weak himself, to stop you from taking what you wanted. All you can think right now is Connie, Connie, fucking Connie.

“Shittt. Want y-y’to to make me cum! P-please!”

Pushing him even further inside without his help proves to him that you truly want him to make you scream. You’re barely making it halfway with his thick and long build. Connie is incredibly proud of you right now, taking his dick like a desperate bitch and moaning to fuck the rest of his inches in.

He pulls a little of himself out of you, only to flush his hips abruptly against yours with one single push. Groaning at the same time you gasp out, he whispers in your ear, “Scream for daddy, mama.”

You were so full. His cock tip was touching places that you’ve never been to on your own before, causing your mind to go haywire. His pressure against your cervix was so intense it would have been painful if you weren’t so wet. You oblige almost embarrassingly quickly the moment you feel his dick drag at a steady pace inside of you.

Connie regrets not having done this sooner, as the drugs he took earlier are still mixing in his system, alternating and speeding up his thoughts. His body was ablaze. You’re covering the entire length of his dick with your juices, causing him to become frantic and desperate to get more out of you. His thrusts match his crave. You were warm, and your cries were heaven to his ears, “Big! Y’re so b-big, daddy!”

You’re not complaining, far from it, as he tears your pussy to shreds. In fact, you’re taking him so well, and he praises you for it. Like he said, you were made for this moment, for him. You’re such a,

“Good girl. Fuck! My g-good girl takes me so well,”

He can hear your slick drip on the floor below you despite the smacking sound in your room. You’re so needy for him, as he is for you. The walls echoed with your wailing sounds as you fucked him back, making Connie shudder.

He’s gonna cum. He can feel his balls churning as they slap repeatedly against your twitching clit. Fuck. He’s gonna cum so deep inside you he prays it reaches your womb. Although it’s his first time exploring the depths of your perfect cunt, he recognizes that you’re also going to cum.

He can tell by the way your legs are shaking rapidly, by the way, your moans get higher in pitch, by the way, you’re whispering his name out like a prayer. And he’s determined to make you cum before him. Do you squirt? Do you cream? He thinks he’ll die and go to heaven if it’s both. Your next plea erupts another groan to tumble out his mouth,

“M’gonna- M’gonna cum! O-oh fuck- M’gonna cum so h-hard.”

Holding your arms behind your back with his tatted hand, he moves his hips inside you at a faster pace than ever before. “Shit. Me t-too, mama.” He angles his waist to keep pressing into that spongy spot that makes you tremble. “Just like that. Cum, baby. C-cum all over this fat dick.”

Small tears start to fall down your brown cheeks, and your back arches sharply on Connie, causing your stomach to clench at once. The man above you receives both your cream and squirt splashing from your sweet core, and you weep. Your muffled moans fill the air as he cranes your neck towards him for a nasty, drooling kiss.

As he gets closer to his orgasm, his rapid thrusts become sloppy and crazed, and his heart beats twice as fast as he sees the beauty fucked out underneath him. The more Connie moved inside of you, the more he swayed. Your essence was covering his lower half so much that he couldn’t wait another minute before dumping his kids against your cervix, a shaky moan accompanying his release.

His thrusts slow down, causing tiny drops to spill onto the floor, but his lips never leave yours, and he has to remind himself to let you breathe when you start to whine against his mouth. He lets you go and instead presses tiny kisses against your panting mouth.

Both of you, Connie in particular, were on cloud nine. Your clenching onto him brings Connie’s mind back to Earth, but he is not satisfied. He wanted to go again. He needed it, so it was only natural he started moving at a steadfast pace inside you again.

“Again. Let’s go a-again, mama. Shitt. Your pussy is so-”

Before that night, you’ve never experienced pleasure on this level. Connie took you, on every corner of the house. Both of you left unaware of Eren’s multiple missed calls as he fucked his cum into you like a dog in heat. It’s safe to say that you didn’t show up for work that night or the night after. Connie made sure you never danced at a strip club again.

@hatake05 @thickbihhwitdagapp 🫶🏾

#lumiwrites #plug connie #connie springer x black reader smut #18+ content #aot smau #aot smut #aot x black reader #aot x reader #aot x black y/n #connie springer #connie x black reader #connie x black y/n #connie x you #mikasa ackerman #mikasa aot #connie aot #connie attack on titan #eren yeager x black reader #eren yeager #mikasa x reader #mikasa x black reader #aot fanfiction #x black reader smut

[thedeviltohisangel]

All The Things I Did (9): It's Not Fair To Make Me Feel This Much

a/n: john and cass' first time :) and then the end got really real and angsty and if you've been in my DMs recently...the conversation at the end between these two is fucking FORESHADOWING. and that is all i will say. i hope you all enjoy this and i would love to chat about this chapter because there is a lot to discuss and i made some deliberate choices to include things and not include other things. love you all so so much

warnings: smut

When Mary saw Major Egan with a towel around his waist, Lieutenant Cooper in his arms in her own towel with her ankles locked at the small of his back, their lips locked together passionately and the pair banging into the wall on their way from the showers to Cass’ billet…well she couldn’t say she was surprised. The two of them were nothing if not predictably unpredictable. She blushed and looked away quickly as his towel fell ever so slightly before the door closed.

Cass landed softly on her feet but kept her lips on his and her hands on his cheeks. Her pace slowed a little bit as she settled into the intimacy. He looked her in the eyes as he deftly freed her from the towel.

“The way you look at me…” she whispered as his eyes raked up and down her body before they locked back onto her own with a lick of his lips. “...like you worship me. Like you want to ravish me.” 

“Both would be very true.” They swayed together gently as she kissed the spot where his jaw met his throat, down the length of his neck and across his clavicle before reconnecting with his lips. Her fingers played with the damp hair at the nape of his neck as he pulled her flush against him. He enjoyed feeling of her chest rising and falling with his. The reminder that she was alive and with him. That they had made it back to each other. One down, however many more to go. “I thought about you the whole time I was flying.” 

“Did it feel good to be back up there?” she hummed as her fingers teased the skin of his lower stomach. He nodded as he twitched under the towel, his kisses slow and sloppy as her hand wrapped around his length. Their tongues tangled together and he massaged her ass as her hand moved at a torturously slow pace. “Does it feel good to be back down here?”

“So good.” John cupped her cheeks and stroked her with his thumbs as his hips began to move with her. Her thumb circled the tip of his cock and collected the moisture there to aid in her slow and steady and slow and steady, up and down. Her other hand reached to undo his towel so she was graced with him and nothing in the way of her hungry eyes. He was thick and flushed and leaking with his desire for her. His desire to be inside her and feel her around him and relentlessly drive her to the edge over and over again. 

Cass kept her eyes on his as she dropped to her knees, pecking his tip like it was his forehead before tracing it with her tongue. She smiled at him sweetly before flattening her tongue on the underside of his shaft and tracing that delicious vein that started at the root of him. He watched her in awe, mouth agape, as he stroked her hair out of her face. 

“You like it when I do that, Johnny?” Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she closed her lips around him and took as much of him as she could, her cheeks hollowed as she released him with a pop. 

“Do that again, baby.” He sighed as all the tension left her body with the feeling of her tongue and lips and the look in her eyes. “Just a little more, Cass.” His hips moved forward slightly as she took another inch with a moan. John would work her into taking him to the back of her throat. They had plenty of time. 

“I’m not done,” she whined as he pulled himself from her mouth completely. Her lower lip pushed into a pout and she looked up at him with sadness. Cass readily accepted the finger that he pressed between her lips and sucked it just as well as she had his cock. It twitched as if to ask him why he wasn’t letting her continue. 

“We have all the time in the world, Cass. Time to do anything and everything we want to.” If only he believed his own words.

He held her hands and pulled her up, collapsing back onto her bed and catching her as gravity brought her down with him. John smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and leaving his hand around her cheek. 

“When I first saw that day when you arrived from Greenland, I thought I had you all figured out. I thought you were a hotshot pilot who joined up to get girls and chase down some sense of righteousness.” She licked her lips and thought about how she could cry with the way his heart was showing through his eyes. “I don’t like being wrong but I couldn’t be more at peace with the fact that I am when it comes to you. You are so gentle and intentional and care so deeply I feel it even when you’re not with me.”

“I never want to be anywhere else other than with you,” he admitted. She laughed once and kissed him, John smiling against her lips over her happiness. A welcome change from her despair a few hours ago. 

“That’s what love is, right?” she asked as she laid down on her pillow and used his dog tags so he was hovering over her. “Do you believe in soulmates?” He kissed down her throat and in a straight line to the apex of her thighs. 

“I do now,” he replied honestly. His tongue flicked against her and her thighs dropped open further in response. “Just making sure you’re nice and wet for me.” He wanted to taste her. Was vaguely addicted to the hit he had gotten a few nights ago. Was chasing that high ever since.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve…done this with anyone.” Cass had fooled around and experimented and given herself to a boy in the loft of her horse barn before she graduated finishing school. Had fought like hell to keep Landry from ever even seeing her naked.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ll make sure you’re nice and ready and then we are going to go at whatever pace feels the best for you.” His thumb teased her entrance. “Sound good?” 

“Sounds perfect.” She flipped her hair off her neck so it was fanned out underneath her head as she settled in for whatever ecstasy that tongue of his was plotting against her. He slipped the digit passed her entrance and sighed at the tight, wet, warmth that pulsed around him. It was going to feel like heaven around his cock. “More.”

“Yeah?” He looked up at her and replaced his thumb with his middle and ring finger. She hummed. 

“Better,” she whispered as she transferred her focus to the feelings he was stirring inside of her. “I fucking love your fingers. Your hands drive me-oh, fuck.” He did the trick she had liked earlier, the heel of his hand tapping her clit as he picked up the pace of his thrusting fingers. 

“We haven’t even scratched the surface of the things my hands can do to you, Spook.” She moaned in response and her hips encouraged her forward to meet his thrusts equally to quicken the pace to her orgasm. “Open your eyes, baby, let me watch what I do to you.” It was a struggle but she managed to scrape together the control to look him in the eyes. 

“Please, John, please. Make me cum, please.” After a few flicks of his wrist against the spot in the back of her pussy that reached all the way through her clit, the sheets of her bed were gripped between her fingers with white knuckles and her breath was replaced by moans. John watched with his own open mouth as her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her neck dropped back, leaving him the perfect view of the pert nipples of her breasts, and the silent writhing of her hips as they tried to escape his hand but he followed them closely. 

“You think you’re ready for me, baby?” he asked as he offered his slick fingers to her lips. She tasted herself with a moan and a nod. John replaced his fingers with his tongue and Cass kissed him with a ferocity he could have only dreamed of. “Cass…do you have a…you got a…” He was struggling to get the word out as every time he pulled away to ask, she was pulling him back in for a kiss. 

“Night stand. Top drawer.” She hadn’t packed any. Had only gotten them after her date at the pub with John. She had a feeling where the fire between them was headed. Cass had spent a night in town playing cards, enough to earn a whole pack of Lucky Strikes, then traded with one of the coffee girls for a stash of condoms. 

She nipped at his throat as he deliriously reached in that direction and found the prize. He triumphantly ripped it open with his teeth and rolled the rubber down his length as quickly as he could find his bearings. For a moment, Cass felt a fleeting sense of panic. She thought of Landry and the way he had warped her mind into thinking sex was a tool for control and manipulation. Had made her believe there would never be anyone who loved and cherished and took care of her and took their time with her the way John did. 

“Don’t disappear on me, Cass,” he whispered, his fingers threading through hers as he sat back and let his leg hang off the side of her bed. “Let me into that beautiful brain of yours.”

“Just thinking how…how I never thought I deserved something like this. Not after everything back home.” John smiled and pulled her up so she was now straddling his lap. 

“You deserve more than I could ever give you. I’m just fighting every day to even try to come close.” She gripped at his shoulders and peppered his face with kisses. “You take the lead, Cass. Your pace.”

“Are you sure? That’s not very traditional of you, Major Egan,” she teased as she pushed his curls back from his forehead. 

“I’ll have my time. Promise.” Cass lifted her hips slightly and centered herself over him, proud and ready, before locking her eyes on his. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the beginnings of him stretching her. More importantly was the look on the man whose lap she was in. 

He looked carved from marble as his eyes flickered from watching the way he disappeared inside of her to watching her face. She could happily die in the crease between his eyebrows. Happily trace the contours of his neck as he strained not to ravish her like an animal. Happily bathe in the sounds of his moans and gasps. All for eternity. 

“John,” she moaned, “I feel you everywhere.”

“Good, baby, want my cock to ruin you.” He wanted her to be ruined for anyone else. Wanted this to serve as his official notice to the universe that she was his and he was hers and that would be the case as long as the earth spun. 

His arm wrapped around the small of her back as he helped her find her rhythm, their rhythm. She let out a gasp with each thrust up into her and pressed her chest to his so there was no space for anything other than love between them. “I love you,” he whispered, “I love you so much, Cass.” He was almost panting as she lifted her hips and brought them down at the same time his own were thrusting. With one particular grinding of her hips, John whined with pleasure and gave her the sloppiest kiss he could muster. Cass found that spot again and he seemed like he was going to burst. 

“I believe you,” she whispered back, “I can feel it.” Her chest ached to return the sentiment to him, it was burning inside of her, but the ugly thoughts stayed rooted in the back of her mind that she was going to lose him. That loving him was not worth the pain that it would wreak across her life when she returned home without him to a life of despair and angry men. “Don’t ever leave me.” She could cry with the emotions bubbling in her chest. With the feeling of being held by this man like she was the most precious work of art. As if any loosening of his grip on her skin and she would float away. 

“I won’t, I won’t. I’ve got you.” He held her face between his hands and brought her forehead to his, her kisses swallowing his breathless sounds as his hands on her hips worked him to his peak. 

“Let go, John, let go for me.” Hidden in her words was that she had him too. That she was gripping him just as tightly, just as afraid he’d drift away, just as afraid she would take up from this dream to find herself in the sullen world she existed in before she had met John Egan. 

He kissed her in a way she was sure was going to bruise her lips, as the ecstasy washed over him and cocooned them both in a bubble of warmth and comfort and commitment. His fingers sought purchase on the skin of her hips and her back as she continued to swivel them through his orgasm, milking him for all he had to give her, and holding him close as he sucked a bruised onto her neck as the high dissipated. 

“That felt…better than fucking flying.” He removed his face from her neck and looked at her like he was drunk. She kissed him with a giggle and held her steady when she tried to lift off of him. “Let me stay inside you a little longer.” 

“Flyboy’s found his nest, huh?” she teased. John smirked, hissing as she moved slightly and his cock twitched back to life. 

“Do you think you’ve got one more in you, baby?” She nodded as her tongue tangled with his once more and his arms tightened around the small of her back. Cass kissed at his cheeks and his forehead and nose as he smiled and pecked her lips right back. “Lie down, Spook. Let me show you the stars one more time tonight.”

----

She had made sure to stop by Mary’s room on the way back from the bathroom to apologize for the sight she had witnessed earlier. 

“Did you promote while I wasn’t looking, Lieutenant?” Cass blushed as Mary nodded toward the oak leaf pin on the collar of the shirt she was donning. She was only able to offer a sheepish good night in return before retreating back to the love den her and John had created. 

She shed John’s shirt before falling into his welcoming arms. Cass was deliciously sated as she closed her eyes with a hum and snuggled against John’s chest.

“Thank you for listening to me. For holding me earlier and just listening and not trying to convince me the way I was feeling was wrong.”  

“I get the sense, Cass, you’re not used to opening up to people.” She propped herself up on her elbow so she could look at him properly. “Even less used to hearing your emotions are valid.”

“I was raised with the fear of God and Elizabeth Cooper. If you feel anything, make sure the door is closed. Especially be sure it’s not in front of a handsome, eligible bachelor,” she added with a tap of her finger to the tip of his nose.

“Not that eligible anymore,” he murmured. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.” John, by no means, viewed Cass as fragile or delicate. He touched her like she was because it was a reverence that she deserved. A care she had earned. A purposeful choice of a man to caress and trace and whisper his love for her across his fingertips. And by no means was John Egan raised that he was allowed to wear his heart on his sleeve. By no means was he allowed to show weakness or fallibility. He was raised to be a man. Strong and sure and stoic in his dogged pursuit of an archetype. 

Now, with an angel in his arms, that was exactly what he wanted to be. He wanted to be her shield from all the pain the world was trying to bring down on her. Shield her from the reality of the world they were making their way through. Shield her from the blue of her past and the red of her present but usher in the gold of their future. No longer were they separate entities drifting through the cosmos but rather their paths were converging in a beautiful display of life and spirit and love. It was music across the skies. A symphonic solar burst of two souls merging for eternity.

“You promise you don’t think less of me because of what I did?” she whispered as she focused on twisting his cross around her fingers and avoided his gaze. A finger under her chin tipped her eyes back to his.

“I promise.” She was scared that she believed him. Scared that he could speak two words and soothe the type of trauma that was currently rooted in her chest. Scared that she could get used to the healing salve of his voice and his touch. “You promise that even when I leave, you’ll know I’m doing it for you? That I’m leaving my heart here with you for safekeeping?” John could feel how tenuous the love between them was. That no matter how real it was and how hot it burned that the world around them was testing its limits. He was so afraid to leave and lose any progress they made. The progress he was making towards Cass allowing herself to feel worthy of his love and deserving of returning the sentiment back to him. 

“I promise.” She kissed his lips softly and did her best not to shy away from the intensity of his blue eyes as they sought to memorize exactly how she looked in this moment, a lock of her hair twisted around his finger. 

“And promise me, Cass, that no matter what happens you’ll know my love for you is real. And that you deserve all the happiness in the world and you don’t have to go back to the life waiting for you in South Carolina if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t need to worry about that because we’re going home together after this. I’ll always know you love me because you’ll be there to tell me. And you’ll fall asleep every night to the sound of my heart beating for you, John Egan, only for you.” He brought her against his lips fiercely, her tears staining his cheeks as she kissed him back with tenderness.

“I’m scared,” he admitted quietly as they changed positions so she was looking up at him. “I’m so scared the universe is going to take you from me.” John needed to know she would fulfill all her hopes and dreams for the after even if he wasn’t there to live them with her. That she wouldn’t resign herself to a life with Sidney Landry and the trappings of traditional domesticity. He needed to know she would be safe and spread her wings and fly to every corner of the world she wanted to. John Egan had understood on that observation mission that he was not guaranteed making it out of here. 

He couldn’t love her enough to end the war. No matter how hard he tried.

“The universe gets no fucking say.” She was leaving with him or she wasn’t leaving at all. “Where you go, I go. Nothing will ever separate us because I will always find you.” Even in death, she would find him. 

“I’m going to give you everything you could ever want when we get out of here, Cass.” She smiled softly and traced her thumb along the top of his cheeks. 

“I got everything I could ever want right here.” She would only ever need him. All she could ever want, ever need, was in her arms. 

All Cass had known her entire life was how to fight for what she wanted. She had scratched and clawed and bled to be where she was. She had killed to get back to John in one piece. Would again without blinking. 

She had meant what she said. The universe no longer had a say in the trajectory of her life. Cass had chosen him the same way he had chosen her. And she would move heaven and hell to keep choosing him if that is what it came to. 

Because the only way she was going to get the future she wanted and deserved and that he was so desperate to give her was for John to be in it. There was no future without his presence. 

She meant what she said. She would always find him. 

Even if that meant following him to her death.

#masters of the air #john egan #callum turner #mota #masters of the air fanfiction #john egan fanfiction #callum turner fanfiction #mota fanfiction #masters of the air fanfic #john egan fanfic #callum turner fanfic #john egan x reader #john egan x oc #cass and bucky

[nekropsii]

About that poll you did: why don’t you find dirkjake compelling? You’re my go-to HS analyzer on this site so I’m curious about your perspective

Well. They literally never do anything on screen other than break up and angst about how the relationship isn’t working out because they’re 16 years old and literally fucking suck at communicating. Why should I be compelled by a relationship when 99% of its existence is dedicated to the fact that it sucks for totally normal 16 year old reasons and also that it’s over? I’m 23, and literally have infinitely better romances to focus on.

All the Alpha Kids just totally suck ass at talking to each other. This is because they’re 16 and sheltered, sure, but there comes a point where it gets kinda grating and hard to watch… Because the “Sheltered 16 Year Old” aspect is written so well. The way all these kids are just absolutely falling over each other trying to date Jake, who is deeply, deeply not into it is kinda just uncomfortable to read, and since Jake’s arc gets cut off short before its resolution… There’s just no concrete payoff, really. Poor dude is still getting treated like that to this day.

I understand it was revolutionary for some people, seeing as how it was the first time they’d seen a “Love Triangle” (no it wasn’t) where a guy was getting pursued by another guy and also a girl… And not only that, but the other guy won…

… But also there’s, like, way better queer media out there. I’ve seen horror movies with more compelling gay themes/romances in them. Plenty of them. It’s actually pretty common. I’m well fed. And also he is literally related to the girl in question here, so dating the guy is literally the only correct choice if he had to pick one with a gun to his head.

The best choice for Jake in reality would have been none of them.

TL;DR: I am a grown man and they literally never do anything that warrants the label of “compelling”.

#homestuck #dirk strider #jake english #jane crocker #jake.pdf #nekro.pdf #nekro.sms

[deadpanwalking]

I'm still stuck on that bad politics/same interests marriage poll. Would you honestly be with someone who didn't read just because they had “good” politics?

I mean, it was a joke poll, but what’s the gold standard for Bad Politics?  Even if I were entirely apolitical and didn't center my politics on highfaluntin' bullshit like universal human rights, my religion (and lack thereof), sexuality, and gender identity are still politicized, so the marriage options would necessarily have to be limited to those whose ideology could accommodate my personhood to begin with. After all, even if we do share interests, it would be impractical for a couple to attend a pre-concert lecture by Jordi Savall together when one regards the other (and possibly even Jordi Savall) as degenerate.  Is the choice, then, between Phineas Q. Fascist and Shawna Shares-My-Core-Beliefs-But-Isn’t-The-Exact-Same-Kind-of-Communist-I-Am?

Anyway, I’ve never been with anyone who didn’t read at all, but I’ve dated people who didn’t fuck with fiction or poetry. It wasn’t ever a problem—they liked seeing me lose my shit over literary criticism and I liked seeing them lose their shit over water resources engineering and nanoethics, or whatever. That mutual admiration went a long way.  I do understand the “must love dogs” approach to relationships up to a point, but I also believe people should give themselves more credit than fandom gives a character who ate a ham sandwich once and is now always drawn holding a ham sandwich: the specific things we like are only a part of who we are.

Also, there are a lot of excellent reasons not to lose touch with friends when you get into a relationship, and that one is a biggie: when you aren’t relying on one person for all your enrichment, you don’t have to get frustrated when they don’t want to accompany you to the three hour Bloomsday Eve Spook-tacular in some associate professor’s unfinished basement.

tl;dr c'mon man

#i have a competency kink--sometimes i don't want to know what the fuck is going on it's enough to see my girl fucking DOMINATE @ a panel #anonymous #assbox

[rosemarilee]

Each ttpd song and how it relates to the maurader era characters

1. Fortnite- Mary when she fell in love with someone who wasn’t worth her time

2. Tortured Poets Department- Remus singing about Sirius

3. My Boy Only Breaks his Favorite Toys- atyd Sirius about Remus after Remus the “Mr tell me a fucking secret”

4. Down Bad- regulus about James

5. So long London- Choices Lily after Regulus dies and James is a mess

6. But Daddy I love him- Sirius after he realized he loved Remus

7. Fresh out the Slammer- Lily after dumping James

8. Florida!!!- Sirius after getting out of Azkaban and being a mess

9. Guilty as sin- regulus after becoming death eater and remembering James

10. Who’s afraid of Little old me- Dorcas after Marlene got killed and she went on a murder spree

11. I can fix him (no really I can)- James hoping he can save Regulus

12. Loml- Remus after Sirius went to Azkaban

13. I can do it with a broken heart- Regulus pretending to be fine after joining the death eaters

14. The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived- Lily about Snape after she finally realized he was shit

15. The Alchemy - James signing about Regukus

16. Clara Bow- regulus finding out about how his tragic life story has been repeating throughout history

17. The Black Dog- James singing about how Regulus is apparently fine after they end

18. Imgonnagetyouback- Remus is confused on whether he wants Sirius or to kill Sirius after The Prank

19. The Albatross- Regulus as a death eater when he sees James and knows he will destroy his life for him

20. Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus- when Sirius is sleeping with everyone except Remus

21. How did it end- James is confused how him and Regulus ended so abruptly

22. So highschool- regulus when James makes him feel like a teenager instead of someone with the weight of the world on his back

23. I hate it here- regulus compartmentalizing when he is with his family

24. thanK you aIMee- Lily singing about all the horrible people at Hogwarts that goaded her to being the best

25. I look through peoples windows- Remus after when everyone he loved died and he is looking for his family in strangers houses

26. The Prophecy- James after Regulus broke up with him and then it didn’t work out with Lily and he just wants love

27. Cassandra- Sirius singing about how terrible his family is

28. Peter- James singing to Regulus because he thought eventually he would come to the good side but he died instead

29. The Bolter- Mary in Hogwarts

30. Robin- Sirius singing about regulus

31. The Manuscript- when Regulus finally accepts that his family is not what a family should be

#marauders #harry potter #james loves regulus #jegulus #regulus black #james potter #regulus being regulus #regulus loves james #ttpd #taylor swift #sirius black coded song #atyd sirius #sirius loves remus #sirius being sirius #sirius x lupin #sirius #remus loves sirius #remus x sirius #sirius black #sirius orion black #sirius and regulus #james & peter & remus & sirius #james x regulus

[zombiequeenblog]

Had a funny headcanon for SADGLO. In 'Bleeding Palms' when Mouse hugs Copia after he gets back the reaction from everyone around them seemed to be mixed. Though some gave knowing hums. I imagine those Siblings that knew,walk down the wrong hallway and finds Copia and Mouse in action. They turn around and decide in good choice to mind their business.

Mild smut below...

If you prefer to read on ao3

This entire abbey was a den of sin, the novice Sister mused to herself, strolling along in a quiet evening solitude. Her dark contemplation was sweet, and comforting as the Unholy Vespers, and nurtured a sort of joy she noticed blooming inside of her more and more often. She didn’t regret her decision to come here, and to stay. In fact, she felt rather proud.

Pride was encouraged here; wrath tolerated. Greed and envy understood; used to improve oneself if so wanted. Gluttony was celebrated in the form of seeking anything better; no shame in the gratification of the senses was bestowed upon siblings in these halls. Even sloth was tolerated, to a point, if one could avoid Imperator’s notice. 

But the sin most freely indulged here, was perhaps lust, for those who so chose to partake. Half of the abbey was fucking each other, their lust spilling over even to the fine denizens of the village below, at times. All a part of their corrupting influence, the Sister supposed, with a sly smile. Hail Satan indeed.

In persona Satan, the Papas certainly had their hands, and their beds, full. Papa Secondo had a growing entourage of favoured sisters, and Terzo had many relationships with many siblings, both long-term and casual. Even Sister Imperator would invite a select few who’d caught her eye, into her and Nihil’s bed for some sweet use as an occasional plaything. And the Cardinal? The musing Sister supposed he fucked, he had a certain lecherous air to him in the way that he skulked about the place. He looked damnably good in those suits too, and the cassock. But his probable partner or partners remained a mystery. 

Perhaps he enjoyed his carnal relations in his travels away from the abbey? Or maybe he had some naughty little secret down in the supposed laboratory below, a dark place he often holed himself up in for days; no one else was allowed down there. Porn or panty-sniffing or something detached of that nature; the Cardinal could have a way of looking at you, a corporeal body willing or at least curious to engage in something with him, like you weren’t worth his precious time. The Sister sniffed a little to herself as she stepped along.

Oh, but she was being a bit mean… The Cardinal was as fine a dark clergyman as the abbey could utilize. He was astute, thorough, and just in his work imparting the faith’s teachings to all souls present. He assisted the Papas probably more than they deserved, and apparently was instrumental in keeping other satanic dicasteries reigned in and on task, if Imperator’s quiet but firm praise was to be believed. Just because he had never been known to finger a girl while she queried him about devilish dogma in the pew (as Papa Terzo often did), didn’t mean he wasn’t fair and sometimes even austerely pleasant in his answering. He gave mass and advice, took confession with feigned concern, and even provided limited medical care around the abbey. He seemed to be highly educated; clearly occupied with himself and yet coolly interested in the further establishment of the place. A solid cog in the wheel, his polished teeth apathetic towards any sweet flesh he could find here. 

It was just too bad for the few siblings who would have followed him into his darkened office, if his sharp leather gloves had but gestured. 

Ah well, the Sister had a lot of time spread out before her to explore every earthly and carnal delight available to her here. Her titillating thoughts so occupied, she almost didn’t hear the curious sounds coming from around the next darkened and solitary corner, as she turned it silently…

There was the Cardinal, of all people! And he was… 

Cassock undone and hatless, he was fucking, clearly fucking hard into someone he was holding down on the narrow hall table there against the shadowed stony wall. The astonished Sister stepped back immediately into the sheltered darkness of an old columned alcove, but she couldn’t look away.

He was fucking the maid that Imperator had brought on some far months back! The sweet young thing who barely talked and mostly kept out of the way; the Sister couldn’t even remember her name at the moment. But it was clearly her, panties pulled down to her knees and short skirt flipped up, bent over flush against the table with his gloved fingers tangled up in her loosened hair. The mousy strands couldn’t hide the flush on her tear-stained cheeks… she was crying! Well, for all his privileged station, he really was a bastard, wasn’t he? The Sister prepared herself to step forward.

The Cardinal bent his head down to the poor girl, and whispered something low, his thrusts into her becoming slow and deliberate. The girl gasped a little and then she smiled; she actually grinned through bitten lip, and then the Sister could see her cant her hips a little, attempting to grind back against the Cardinal’s cock. He gasped himself, clearly trying to be quiet, before he raised his hand to spank the girl sharply, forcing from her a little shriek she quickly stifled with her own hand. The Sister backed up against the wall in the darkness. 

Pulling out of his conquest, the Cardinal flipped her over, and she sat up herself to fling her arms around his shoulders, kissing him breathlessly while he unbuttoned her blouse in a reckless manner. With more of her pliant body revealed to him, he pushed her down again, grasping her hips within his gloves to yank her down to the edge of the table, and wrenching her legs open. 

Clearly penetrating her again, the Cardinal ran his hand up her writhing form to cover her gasping mouth, quieting her little moans with every one of his thrusts and trying desperately to keep his own noises down, his great pleasure apparent, and threatening to overwhelm him in this secretive little tryst. 

The Sister didn’t dare allow herself to breathe. As the Cardinal leant over his compliant prey, erratic thrusts intensifying, and the girl began to hug his waist with her bare knees, ecstatic sounds barely escaping his glove, the Sister thought she’d better evade herself from the intimate situation before its inevitable conclusion. 

Sliding back along the stone, she turned as soon as she felt able to, quickly and quietly returning in the direction she’d come from. Her serene musings had certainly been ruined, and rather uncomfortably exchanged for a bothersome stirring in her private regions. Perhaps she’d seek out a charming sibling for some specialized comfort, or maybe even bolster her confidence to approach one of the Papas tonight. 

Flushing a bit underneath her veil, the Sister let out a breath and tried to process what she had just witnessed. It wasn’t exactly forbidden, it simply seemed more illicit than it was because of their furtiveness and the long-running obscurity of the Cardinal’s lusts. Lust. The Sister certainly had this most popular sin on the brain, itching to get out of her rapidly stifling habit, as she made her way back into the more amply lit parts of the antiquated abbey. A den of sin, indeed, both illuminated and not. Hail Satan and All Sinners, she thought to herself. The unholy night went on. 

#sadglo #copia and mouse #ask box #anon ask #thank you so much for inspiring me

[redkelpfish]

Jason Todd is a damn good example of how superheroes can’t be parents. I’m not saying heroes should be forbidden from having children, but the moment you do, you choose one or the other. You either cease to be a hero or you must fundamentally fail your child.

Because that’s the basis of being a parent—choosing your child. Day in and day out, no matter what. There is no bigger picture, no greater good. Between a bus full of people and your kid, your kid has to count on you to be the one person in the world who would let the bus fall. A hero can’t do that. A hero shouldn’t do that.

Jason Todd so desperately wanted Bruce, his father, the one person he needed to let the bus fall. But Bruce had chosen “hero” two decades ago, and there was no room for Jason Todd, son. So Jason Todd, Robin died a martyr with no one left to carry the cause. An unfortunate casualty. He came back as the only thing left, the only version of Jason Todd that a clown didn’t beat to death in warehouse in Ethiopia. Jason Todd, son. And there was no father. He kept reaching and reaching and there should have been something to meet him. But Bruce Wayne was a hero. And Jason Todd was a son.

#sorry I’m tired and weirdly emotional about children of superheroes #because that’s the thing #you shouldn’t let the bus drop #morally you shouldn’t #it’s hard to look at a hero doing the right thing and go ‘you chose wrong’ #because that wasn’t the choice they fucked up on #it was a thousand choices before this moment #it was one choice in the middle #i love the robins #i love superheroes with children #but fundamentally someone has been failed in that situation #and unless you’ve been in the running for the flash mantel at least once #it’s probably your kid #dc #batman #bruce wayne #jason todd #dc comics #superheroes #clark kent #i think we all know why he’s tagged #justice league

[thebookworm0001]

I just think the fandom’s nastier responses to the bg3 men is wildly interesting

like. you have three men who are coming out of highly unhealthy relationships.

One of them gets super sexualized and infantilized at the exact same time. literally people put him in the bdsm harness while simultaneously misinterpreting elven cultural norms to say he’s mentally no more mature than a teenager despite having been a whole-ass local judge who died because he gave out corrupt rulings and got his ass jumped because of them.

the other gets treated like he’s an incel because he catches feelings quickly, despite being wildly respectful when you turn him down. Half the issues were due to a bug, the other is that this man is so starved for validation because his goddess - whom has paid special interest to him since he was a toddler - kept him constantly feeling lesser-than because despite calling him her Chosen, she gives him none of the power we see Chosens be given by other gods. Not to mention she sends her other ex - his mentor and friend - to tell him to off himself to earn her forgiveness. For some reason his attempts to gain god-like power are received worse than the borm-sexy-yesterday-vampire despite both of them having the goal of being safe from manipulation and control. I assume because the vampire gets a sex scene when you let him destroy his soul for power and the wizard does not.

The fairytale prince route, despite typically being very popular, is being called boring and dull and while, yes, he has less drama than some of the others, is still compelling and has high stakes for that character. He’s sold his soul but he thinks the price is worth it and he’s made his peace with the personal cost because he’s helping people. The only real difference between this character and others who are willing to sell their souls for the good of their lands is that this time around, he’s Black

#bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #fandom critical #I guess? #like Wyll’s shit seems to genuinely be people are racist and not realizing or caring to realize #he’s a delight! he wants to dance with you! he’s a sweetheart going by the fairytale chivalric code #meanwhile he’s literally made a deal with a devil to make the princely thing happen #it’s good! he’s the vanilla ice cream route and it’s very lovely #literally his route is so similar to Alistair in the choices to give up your life for the world #I love astarion and he is in fact very sexy #and he likes sex when he has the final say in whether it’s happening #but that damn tombstone has some people acting creepy as fuck #yes it’s sad how young he was but he was also a whole adult man when he died #and Gale… you can argue very easily he was groomed #and even if he wasn’t - this man has isolated himself for a /year/ trying not to hurt anyone #yeah he’s gonna get attached to the first people he gets to hang with #he’s hurt when you turn him down but he’s not a dick #then he becomes your ride-or-die #he’s a sweetheart #Halsin has his own shit going but he seems to a companion solely because people thirsted so hard #but he’s also worked through his shit and is decently mentally stable #not letting ppl reblog this because I don’t need people acting a fool on my post

[hallwyeoo]

What I find so interesting is that the abyss, those five years that Shen Qingqiu was dead, etc, are all heartbreaking because Luo Binghe had no one. He was alone or isolated, he had lost or been betrayed. It would sorta break some of the story to have him have someone to talk to at those points- and for us to hear their convo- but I want to know what he’d say. How he’d react or explain what happened or what he’s feeling. I want to crack his skull open and peer inside. Our glimpse at how he views himself was brief, but gut wrenching all the same and I want MOREEEE

#svsss #luo binghe #mxtx svsss #shen yuan #text post #bingqiu #shen qingqiu #mxtx #bingyuan #scum villain self saving system #scumbag self saving system #angsty #because it’s Luo Binghe #I mean cmon you mean you heard ‘I hate… I hate myself!!!’ and that whole thing #and DIDNT want to know more???? #sqq ily but you fucked that kid up SO BAD #like it wasn’t your choice but HOLY SHIT

[quietwingsinthesky]

I feel like much has been made about the fact that, if left unattended, Michael will put Adam on the pedestal God previously occupied and try to love him the same way, which makes things Worse for both of them. And not about Lucifer doing the same thing to Sam.

#they are similar situations but also. Different. #Michael’s trying to deal with his abandonment issues because that’s what God *left* him with #but for Lucifer. this is about rejection. #similar flavor but not the same #this is about him Making A Choice to love god first. and then being told his choice was wrong. that the way he loved was wrong. #and that it was so wrong that god would rather lock him up in hell and never lay eyes on him again than just let him be #WHICH! HUH! YEAH THAT MAYBE FUCKED HIM UP A BIT! #what I’m saying is that when this comes around again but with Sam this time. it’s not like Lucifer has learned a different love language. #he’s the same. he got locked up. he was in stasis. he did not grow. this is all he knows. #and the last time he told someone he chose to love them above everything else that got him burned. #so. Sam. #(oh god wait no it’s worse. Sam *has* thrown Lucifer in hell. and it wasn’t for *choosing* Sam but. wasn’t it. what’s the apocalypse if not #the worlds longest bloodiest courtship. Sam’s intentions ≠ how Lucifer received the message.) #what Lucifer wants is. somewhere to put that love. and he is primed for it & him to be thrown out. #I’m not sure where I’m going with this honestly but I think it would do him some good if he got to lay Sam down and worship him for a bit #and have that be allowed. welcomed even. but also. reciprocated. the reciprocation is key. #that’s key for midam & samifer. learning that love is something that is meant to be returned. #spn #lucifer spn #sam winchester #samifer #lucifer/sam winchester

[cicadaknight]

i so desperately wanted to beat cazador up with my bard’s lute but karlach slam dunked him into the void mid-evil monologue 👉👈

#bg3 spoilers #as combat goes it wasn’t the worst fight #but it was 2am i left gale and his fireballs at camp and shadowheart kept pooping her armor about the wolves #desperate times call for cheesin measures #sorry cazador if you’re gonna hide at the edge to avoid my daylight spells #i simply can’t miss such a comedic opportunity #i will say i did that on the second attempt and reloded because i thought losing his corpse might fuck up the end choice #but it did not #and then i tried to fight for real for another hour or two and couldn’t get further than killing a couple bats #bg3 #cazador fight #astarion #astarion spoilers #died enough times to run through most of astarion’s confrontation dialogue though #holy shit #if you say anything cazador makes fun of him for needing someone to speak for him #and from then til the start of the fight he’s so hurt and scared #like cazador is calling him a weak stupid little boy and completely rips through any confidence he had #tr-tr-tr-trauma response #an awful glimpse at how powerless astarion truly felt #we all joke about astarion being a sad little wet cat but the UNSPEAKABLE trauma he endured and inflicted unwillingly for CENTURIES #but if you say nothing he delivers one of the best ‘fuck you’ lines ever #and jesus christ the ending #obviously i chose the good one #but it hurt so bad anyway