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#i will choke you with metaphors
very-grownup · 4 months
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Book 85, 2023
In my second year of university, all I took was English courses, because a full course load of nothing but reading seemed like a good idea after a stressful, somewhat traumatic first year. It was a long time ago and over the course of my time at uni I read a lot, only some of it multiple versions of Beowulf, and doodled my way through hundreds of hours of lectures, but some things have stuck with me.
I think a lot about my short story (later science fiction) professor and his frustration with the colloquialising and simplification of the word 'awesome', how it had become synonymous with 'impressive' and 'cool', stripped of the nuance where it is something so impressive it frightens you. 'Awesome' is a regular part of my casual vocabulary and language evolves, but I feel for Professor Matheson; sometimes the word you need is the awesome with the deeper connotation, and it's frustrating to think a reader is going to miss the nuance of the word because of the way it's popularly used.
Which brings us to Rebecca Chambers' "A Psalm for the Wild-Built"; every word I want to use to describe it feels like it's been muddled or neutered by a combination of internet hot take discourse and marketing speak. I've settled on 'gentle', which isn't the same as 'cozy' or 'soft', 'safe' or 'unproblematic'. Gentle is mint tea, warm, hydrating, a caffeine-free invigorating that's also relaxing, but it can still burn your tongue. It's a loving cat resting in your lap, soft paws massaging your thighs with pressure that can turn to pain and blood. Gentle feels good, comforting, but there's a choice, a restraint; the capacity to hurt is still there.
A distant future, another planet, an age of robotics leading to sentient artificial intelligence, and not a conflict of man versus machine but the quiet aftermath of an agreement between humans and robots, a separation of their societies, a pact of no contact, and humans moving forward to create a post-robot society, striving always to exist fully but conscientiously.
A young monk sets off on a vague pilgrimage in response to a vague inner malaise and becomes the first human being to encounter a robot since the robots vanished into the greater wilderness. They talk and continue the pilgrimage together.
That's it.
It's a novella, not a novel, a bite-sized road tale, and Chambers builds a world with rising and falling technological ages and environmental awareness, shifting human philosophies and ways of life to support this bite with the structural soundness and visibility of a spiderweb. It manages to be a very far flung future piece of science fiction, acknowledging the mistakes and damage of human society, while envisioning something better, and also acknowledging that this is an ongoing process. There's no goalpost for a 'good' version of humanity, there's just humanity, constantly evolving and growing and learning about the world and itself and changing in response to that; that involves hard truths and hope in equal measure.
It's a smart, thoughtful, sincere book, charming and funny and cathartic. It's not a reading experience that coddles you, but it refreshes you like walking in a downpour.
If you've ever felt lost in life or lost in the woods, "A Psalm for the Wild-Built" is the book about robots you need.
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vampirecatboy · 8 months
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mission success: fucked that vampire
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wheelercore · 1 year
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Understanding the scene of Ted putting the tie on Mike (Mike commenting on how it's too tight and it's choking him and Ted saying that's how it's supposed to be) in a very Mike-Ted parallels way. AND IT WAS ON FRONT OF A MIRROR TOO. Shrimp colors everywhere.
#im so sorry for being this way truly i cannot help it. the vicious cycles get me. im seeing the light#bc personally i dont see it as simply about heteronormativity. i mean its a part of it#but its framed as like. ted is choking mike with heterosexuality! and while that is true to an extent they have ted say thats how its#supposed TO BE for a reason! clothing is something ppl put on themselves. putting on your tie too tight- choking yourself its not just#sexuality its about control. controlling your image. controlling yourself#the religious themes of s4 wasnt just a recent feature. the idea of repression (emotional/sexual/physical) goes all the way back to s1#the concept of keeping such a tight control over yourself (ie 'choking' yourself and enforcing it on your children) falls in line with#religious trauma. constantly being watched not only by authority but god. repressing/choking yourself so you dont step out of line#and again its on front of the mirror. like idk mike-ted parallels arent popular in this fandom but take it up with the duffers#i didnt put them in there they did!!!#like the idea of being so repressed and being in a constant state of controlling oneself to toe the line not only falls in line with a lack#of pov (which they intentionally take away from mike and intentionally never give to ted)#but also mikes possible ED which again is about control! these are all metaphors for controlling oneself to a harmful extent!#one day ppl will appreciate mike ted parallels beyond 'ted hates mike for being gay' but alas today is not that day and it wont stop me#also 'try new things' being about coming out of your comfort zone! mike trying the pinapple pizza and ted going on the ferris wheel#not tightly controlling yourself to the point you make yourself miserable#blasts runs in the family drowning out literally everything else#its all religious trauma? always have been
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synapple · 2 years
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Breaking a horse/stallion= getting it to listen to commands by way of stressing it out until it gives up being stubborn and listens to commands (people don’t do this anymore mostly, it’s obviously uh, mcYikes)
Thank you for being informative, that’s a cool if fucked up piece of history. unfortunately I refuse to let fall out boy have this win.
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unlimitedhorsepower · 2 years
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i think i hauve Covid (not really just developing symptoms after thinking about ryan too hard)
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lotus-queer · 4 months
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PSA for writers everywhere bc I am a petty bitch and this one thing drives me up the wall:
This is strangling
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This is choking
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This is a choke hold:
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Strangling is from the outside
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Choking is from the inside
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azuremist · 1 year
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I think that more fanfiction should be written with the aim to tackle the original meaning of hanahaki. Because when the concept of hanahaki disease was originally created, it was intended to be a metaphor for suppressing one’s feelings.
Your feelings are this beautiful garden of flora inside of your chest. When you express how you feel honestly, you allow for it to grow freely. But when you hide how you feel out of fear of rejection, and try to make it smaller and smaller, the flowers become cramped inside of you, until you choke on your own feelings. Every flower you cough up is something you’ve felt, but refused to say.
The whole “dying” thing is intended to be more symbolic especially. You’re killing off bits and pieces of yourself and how you feel, because you’re afraid to express yourself.
It’s not really supposed to be, “The one I love doesn’t love me back, and I’m dying from it.” Rather, it’s more along the lines of, “Repressing your emotions is bad for you, and it’s better and healthier to express them freely, even when it’s scary.”
Which is to say that, one, the cure for the disease should be telling the person that you are in love with how you feel. How the other person feels about the person afflicted should have nothing to do with it, as the trope is meant to be about feeling your emotions unapologetically.
And that, two, it’s not an inherently romantic trope. Obviously, it has romantic applications, but it can be written for any situation where a character is hiding how they truly feel. This can include a refusal to address a specific trauma, a desire to indulge in something that they’re ashamed of, and even really practical things, like wanting to ask one’s boss for a higher position.
Although (as an aromantic person myself) I don’t agree with this conclusion about the trope, this application would also avoid people calling it arophobic. When the thing killing the character is a refusal to be honest with themselves, rather than an unrequited love, it’s on nobody’s hands but their own to save their life.
There are a ton of ways that this interpretation of the hanahaki disease could be applied in new and interesting ways in fanfiction, and I’d love to read what things people could come up with!
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screampied · 2 months
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Not sure if this is too specific but I NEED top geto that lets fem!reader top him just for once thinking reader would fail but geto immediately gets humbled !!! Not to mention geto is definitely very very vocal !!!!🤭
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❤︎ ໋𓈒 cocky geto find the idea of you topping him adorable but he soon gets humbled quickly
warnings. fem! reader, cowgirl, praise, dirty talk, hair pulling, unprotected sex, choking geto, mdni.
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“baby, are ya sure,” he’d hum with a coy grin, leaning back against the cushioned sofa. he had the look is pure amusement plastered on his face. his tone and the way he structured his tone to make himself tease you even further made you lightly pout. with a hand gripped against your waist, he runs a thumb against your bare skin. “you…you wanna ride me?”
“you don’t think i can?” you furrow your eyebrows, just barely hovering over him. geto has a free arm stretched against the edge of the couch, eyeing you up and down with a sly grin.
he swiftly shakes his head. “i’m not saying that baby, i jus’ think it’s cute.”
“cute.” you repeat, giving him a brief deadpan before you start to align yourself. you intake a breath…feeling his leaky tip marginally brush against your entrance. geto liked getting underneath your skin whenever he could, but you wanted to show him how wrong he was.
geto snickers at your reaction, softly grazing his thumb repeatedly down your side before he murmurs in a soft raspy tone, “prove me wrong then.”
“i’m going to, suguru. so shut up and lie the fuck back.”
“y-yes ma’am.” he suddenly stammers, feeling your hand lightly go around his throat. you slowly rock forward against him, and geto leans back, getting turned on from the grip you had.
his back leans against the cushion before he stares at you, a sudden cold sweat running down him metaphorically. “shit, you’re serious?”
and despite everything, he still had a coy grin poking against his lips. the feeling of your hand that went around his neck, it made his dick twitch a bit. you choking him briefly. adding just a bit of pressure, you drag a thumb, rubbing up against his adam’s apple. “i like your confidence princess, but—”
“suguru,” you grumble, and the moment you start to sink down on his thick base, he lets off a grunt. in the midst of your pussy taking him fully, you move your hips forward a bit—a quick jerk to make him eat his words. geto’s head goes back, feeling your hand still around his neck.
“if—if you’re gonna choke me, at least do it harder princess.” he grunts, a left hand of his snaking towards your ass. you nearly slip off a moan, remembering how handsy he was. he grips your ass before giving it a light spank.
a brat even till the very end.
with a swift eyeroll, murmuring a, “fine,” you squeeze his neck a little bit tighter — geto looks so pretty underneath you.
once you start up a rhythmic pace, his groans become more vocal. the grip your cunt made against him had him nearly in shambles.
geto’s smirk never fades. you start to grind against him in such a way that he just can’t shut himself up.
he’s balls deep, stirring up your insides to where you lean right up against his chest to nip near his neck. soft chaste kisses.
“fuckkk, good. kiss my neck, jus’ like that.” and his voice, it was a pitchy low. a bit of rasp underneath it, he continued to pause every few seconds to swallow and he’s panting.
heavily…
the way your skin slaps and clouts ruthlessly on his thigh turns him on entirely so.
the recoil of your ass—geto was forevermore a handsy man. he’d run and trace his fingertips on your skin, low husky grunts skidding past his spit-glossed lips each second.
he loved grabbing your ass as it fucked back against him. you studied his facial expressions. such a pretty man. his hair was a mess, it wasn’t tied up so strands just went all across his face as you rode him. purely occluding his vision.
“…mhm, you’re such a tease,” he murmurs, feeling you start to playfully suck on his neck. geto’s thigh starts to bounce idly in the background and you press your hands on his chest.
he had an abashed expression, eyes half-lidded, and speaking of eyes…his dark irises, they were dilated. all because of you.
his pretty girl that was making him eat his words up. he catches you starting before scoffing.
“f-fuckkk me,” he huffs out, feeling you vigorously clamp down on him again and again. it had him dizzy, mind unintentionally spasming,
your perfume scent making his heart race. “grippin’ me so tight, ‘s no fair.”
massaging the middle part of his neck, you lean in to kiss geto.
he returns the gesture, his tongue moving against yours and he moans. it’s more of a whiny moan if anything. jerking your hips slightly, he squeezes a hand against your waist—huffing and puffing.
he felt a bundle of nerves surge all through him. the way you moved back and forth against him, a groan gets caught in his throat and before he knew it, he starts to feel himself coming close. that quick.
“y-you’re gonna,” he breathes, his chest kept heaving and heaving..
geto’s bare chest, a few dark hairs of chest hair decorating his skin. you hum, dragging a finger down his chest, giving his perky nipples a playful pinch to watch him whine. “gonna make me cum too quick, s-shit.”
“what happened to your confidence, sugu?” you mutter, keeping up a pace. you start to quicken a bit to where he can barely keep up.
geto could barely register anything, his mind—it was ditzy. thinking of nothing but the way you pussy soaked down on him, clenching stupidly around his cock. “you said i couldn’t ride you, baby.”
“you still can’t,” he pants, trying to keep up his façade but you could literally hear from his tone.
he was so close to the edge. feeling you play with his nipples, geto bites his tongue. “i-im sensitive there, woman… you’re so f-fuckkk..”
you smile, nipping near his neck again before he groans—eyes rolling back, he gnaws on lip as he feels his orgasm unsteadily approaching.
your hips, the rhythm it had made him so woozy. he wanted more, he brings you in for a kiss again, and you move some of his long strands from his hair.
geto shivers, feeling you ride against him faster before within seconds…it happens.
he shoots right inside your gummy walls, a raspy groan departs from his lips once he feels himself pouring right into your cunt. dumping such a thick loud, you slow down your hips to stare at geto.
“don’t… don’t look at me.” he retorts, a near pout going against his lips. he wasn’t use to this, you getting the higher up on him.
you giggle, pressing a plethora of kisses near his nose at how he came too early. he grunts, the second you inch closer towards him, his dick that was still inside you twitched. pumped so full, you felt him coat your walls with every drop. “give… gimme another kiss, i need it.”
“you don’t need a kiss, geto,” you tease, being more of a chaff by refusing for a second.
as you moved closer towards his lips. he lets off a needy whine, his glossed lips were so trembly. he wanted more of your taste… so much. “if you want it that bad, just say pretty please.”
his eyes narrow at you, still letting off breathy pants before replying with a grouchy. “…no.”
“then you’re not getting a kiss.” you snicker with a shrug, watching the pout go against his lips again.
it was cute, seeing him try to keep up this bratty act. but not even seconds later, he deeply sighs with an adorable half eye roll. “okay, okay…. um. give me a kiss. pretty please. f-fuck, i want you.”
“good boy,” you mutter, giving him a quick kiss that he barely blinks. he wants more of you.
geto’s face flushes hard from the sudden pet name, and he groans once he feels you reach down towards his dick still perfectly buried inside you. you realign yourself, giving him another long kiss before briefly departing, softly uttering a, “now lie back, baby. ‘m not finished.”
“this…doesn’t mean anything by the way,” he tries to elucidate, yet shuts up the moment you softly wrap your hand around his neck. geto leans back, going manspread before with a pant, he smiles—still a brat. “but.. do your worst, baby. finish fucking me then. if you can, h-heh.”
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katsukiizmoon · 7 months
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╰┈➤ ꒰🕸🍒┊Explaining | Katsuki Bakugou꒱
Can’t stop thinking about this post by @tired-biscuit and thinking even harder about catching Katsuki one night.
Will this turn into a thing? Maybe— (update from future! me: This is somehow 2.7k. I don’t know if it even makes any sense, mush brain. It’s midnight. Christ. Edited and added a little read more thing)
『♡』 f! reader, best friends to lovers, m masturbation, piv sex, arguing, anxious katsuki for a bit, some praise, fingering, idk guys sex stuff, unedited bc I wrote it half asleep
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Katsuki fucks his fist sloppy, chewing on the end of his shirt. Slippery beads of precum well up and spill down the shaft and he circles his thumb over the head.
He chokes back a moan and squeezes harder, slamming his hips forward desperately in need of release. The tension in his body has been pulling like a rubber band for hours. It stretches farther and farther every time.
Tonight was torture for him. You’d worn those stupid shorts and a loose crop top. You never wear a bra under your crop tops, let alone around him.
Every time you’d lift your arms too high he’d get a peek of your pretty tits and jerk his head to the side. Your shorts were no different— showing off the underside of your ass cheeks and tight enough he could just make out the outline of your pussy. Normally both would be fine but, fuck.
His strokes get faster while his mind fuzzes. Lust clouds his thought process as he shoves the guilt to the back of his mind to deal with later. His face feels numb, his lips tingle, the metaphorical rubber band pulls tighter.
Tighter. Like his fist is while it squeezes down on his cock and spreads the precum all over him.
Tighter. Like he’s sure your pussy would be as it was wrapping around him and sucking him with each thrust.
The end of his t shirt is wet and slobbery. A thin sheen of sweat coats his body and the slapping wet noises of his thrusts is getting louder. His brows furrow as he closes overwhelmed eyes. With the sound of the water running in the background he doesn’t even hear you coming.
You’re usually a little loud when you’re sleepy and heading to the bathroom. Your feet amble beneath you without too much sense, body heavy, mind foggy— you’re a sweet little thing when you’re sleepy. One too many times has he woken to you running into walls while trying to get into the bathroom.
But he doesn’t hear you this time.
He pants and whines a little in the back of his throat, sloppily fucking his hand. He’s focused on the thought of you up under him. Sliding your shorts to the side and letting him eat your pussy. Bouncing on his cock in that big shirt you stole from him a year or two ago.
He’s a goddamn mess. The tension and heat in his tummy gets tighter, tighter, until he feels like he might pass out. The world is about to allow him the grace of relief.
And then you sleepily open your bathroom door. You’re still half awake with drool on your face and your eyes hardly open. You’d changed into comfier shorts and kept the crop top, which was now riding up on one side so that your tit was on display.
“Gotsta’ pee,” You blink hazily trying to figure out why your bathroom smells like fresh salted caramel.
He forgot to lock it.
Katsuki is frozen in place. He doesn’t know what to do, say, think— you just walked in on him jacking off in your bathroom. Precum is still dribbling out and all over his hand. He opens his mouth with a red face and lets his shirt drop to cover his abs, quickly shoving his cock into his pajama pants.
And you’re just standing there like you hardly even register what’s going on. Your eyes widen when two and two come together, making four. Watery carmine eyes meet yours as his lips tremble before he’s shoving past you with sparking palms.
He tries to rush out and makes a mad dash to your bedroom to grab his things. Embarrassment and guilt makes him panic, filling his being with a nauseous feeling. And he’s not sure what to do or say.
Does he say sorry? Does he confess? Does he block you and run?
For once, Katsuki doesn’t want to be brave. He is scared and he is tired of being the hero who has no fear. Anxiety makes his fingers shake while tears threaten to spill over his pretty tanned cheeks.
You come rushing around the corner with flushed cheeks and determined hands. Your fingers twist into his shirt and pull him back, spinning him around to face you. It’s a miracle you managed it with how much bigger and stronger he is.
Katsuki’s terrified gaze holds yours with a trembling lower lip. He might be much bigger but right now he feels small.
“Wait, wait, wait. Hey— hey what’s goin’ on?” You coo, pulling him toward your bed to sit. His feet move on their own accord and do as you please. “Why are you leaving?” Fingers twist tighter in his shirt.
The blonde gawks and scrambles for words. Quick breaths leave his lips with little to no time between. Katsuki wants to cry, scream, and just die. You caught him beating his fuckin meat in your bathroom and now you’re comforting him.
“What else m’ I supposed to fuckin do?” He grunts, putting his brave face and frown right back on.
“Get in bed and go back to sleep?” Your head tilts and you say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Katsuki confusedly jerks back with a frown and snort. Thick hands grip his sweatpants for dear life.
“You want me to get in bed with you and go back to sleep after—after that?” The AC kicks on in the background and whirrs to life, sending cool air through the room.
“Yeah? Unless you wanna talk about it now at,” you glance at the clock on the nightstand “, two fourty five in the fucking morning.” You rub your face with your palm.
“I don’t think me jacking off in your bathroom needs explaining.” He spits, flustered and annoyed. His face scrunches up all sour and huffs, the tips of his ears still red.
You sigh and frustration bubbles in his chest.
“What? You can’t seriously want me—“
Your hand presses to his mouth and you shoot him a glare. Exhaustion spreads your features with a huff to shut him up.
“What’s going on? And don’t give me some bullshit. Just tell me what’s going on.” Your tone leaves no room for an argument.
“You and your stupid fuckin— stupid shorts and whiny voice and shit. That’s what’s going on!” He leans in so that his nose is only a few inches from yours and snaps.
“Me?” You mumble, obviously confused.
“Yes, you.” His fingers press near your sternum and poke with a growl.
You squeak and narrow your eyes, moving closer to him yourself and pushing his chest lightly.
“What about you?” You guffaw. You’re not quite wrapping your mind around the situation yet, still tired and not understanding what the big deal is.
And Katsuki nearly loses it. The tension so thick you could cut it with a knife, his mind racing and chest heaving. He’s been dealing with you practically torturing him day in and day out for years— and now you’re asking about him. But before he can speak you start rambling on.
“You run around in these goddamn sweatpants-“ you tug at the grey fabric a little “and you say I’M what’s going on? You still haven’t explained shit!”
Katsuki turns a shade of red you’ve never seen before. He starts noticing your close proximity, the way your breath still smells like toothpaste, your pout. Your lips are an inch away from his and it is taking every little bit of willpower he has to not kiss you.
“Yes.” A puff of air ghosts over your lips and you take in the sight in front of you. Feelings you tried to shove down bubble in your tummy and spread.
The rubber band that’s been winding in his gut and mind for far too long grows tighter. Stretched to the point of which it’ll never be the same.
Heat in your stomach starts to flow and consume your being as things begin to click into place. He was getting off in your bathroom, he said you’re what’s going on.
“Oh..” you breathlessly whisper. Something in you burns. If he feels the same way then.. it couldn’t hurt, could it?
Katsuki jerks his head away from yours and looks to the side. His shoulders tight, grey t shirt with a damp area at the bottoms wrinkling as he fidgets with it. It’s like he’s waiting for the sting of rejection.
You grab his jaw with unsure hands and guide him back to look at you. His big, misty and wide eyes peering into your own.
And then you kiss him.
Snap
All tongue and soft lips, teeth clashing against his from the awkward position. You dig your nails into his chest like he’s gonna float away if you don’t.
And katsuki just might. Because you taste just like he thought you would, your mouth moves against his like he was just fantasizing about before. He soaks in the kiss like it will be his last until you break for air while panting.
“Don’t you ever try to run from me like that again.” You whine and dive back in.
His body acts before he can think enough to stop himself. You fall back against the mattress, plushie beside your head. His thick heavy body presses you into it and weighs you down while big hands travel up and down you. He explores your body like it’s something to be worshipped.
Your own hands push and pull at him. They slide under his shirt and drag nails down his toned, tan back. Your legs open up so he can slot between them with a particularly good suck on his bottom lip.
A breathy moan leaves your lips and it sends fire down his body.
“Fuck— god.” He whines between kisses. The line of his cock presses against you through your thin pajama shorts and makes you antsy. Your fingers grip at Wheaty blond roots and tug.
“Is this— oh,” You can feel him drag against you through his sweats. “ is this what you were thinking about?”
Katsuki shakes his head.
“Close enough.” He gasps, guttural and needy as your teeth nip under his jaw. Your tongue slides down the column of his throat as his clothed cock does against your heat.
“Wanna know what I think about?”
His mind stills and he nods feverishly before diving into the crook of your neck to suck. Pink marks are left in his wake and his fingers slide under the fabric of your shorts to rub little circles on your clit.
It makes you stutter and forget what you’re doing for a moment, your legs shake and squeeze around him.
“Been thinkin’ bout your cock in me—“ your pussy drools all over his fingers and the breath gets punched out of him all at once.
“God you fuckin minx.” He growls and slips a finger into your already soaked core. He feels a little more sure of himself, a little better about it.
Your head throws back when he adds the second finger and curls them up. The pad of his thumb works in little circles and flicking motions rhythmically. You keep making these little noises that send jolts to his cock and make it twitch.
For the second time that night, his cock drools precum. It smears against the inside of his pajama pants and dribbles even more when your eyes go wide.
“Katsuki— god, like that, like that!” You babble until a particular stroke of his thumb has your body tightening and then shaking. Release covers his fingers and he yanks your pajama shorts off your body and throws them to the side.
“Good girl, that’s a good girl.” Thick fingers rub soothing circles over your pussy while he slides his shirt and pants off.
You feel his cock press against your folds and then his face is right above yours. He licks lazily into your mouth, hand coming up under your thighs to guide them around his back where your ankles cross over.
“Shit— y’so wet for me.” He mumbles between kisses and then links a hand with yours, pressing it into the mattress. “You want it? Want my cock?”
“Quit being a tease! Just give me your ohhh” You whimper and gasp, head throwing back and free hand coming to clutch at anything you can get your hands on.
He’s girthy and hot as he fills you up to the brim. There’s not a space untouched by his cock, making you feel so stuffed and out of breath you can hardly move.
“That’s it, you can take it.” He breathes into your mouth.
You slowly adjust to him and as soon as you relax, he pulls his hips back and thrusts. It makes you hiccup and lose your mind. The sheets are much too sweaty, AC be damned, and he looks like a literal god over you.
All tanned muscle and flushed cheeks. His pretty focused face scrunched up in determination not to cum immediately. You’re not sure how much you can take before you tear the sheets apart and scream.
He sets an even pace with his hips before propping your hips up a little and slowing down. It’s slow but it’s deep. His cock head touches something in you that has expletives leaving both your mouths as your nails dig into his shoulders.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-“ he desperately tries to keep hold of sanity. But you taste good, you smell good- better than any of his fantasies. Your pussy wraps around him in ways he couldn’t imagine. You’re really sprawled under him and moaning.
His cock is frothing near the base because of how wet you are, pussy juice and precum sliding between your ass cheeks and onto the bed. Your pink bedsheets are damp and one of your plushies has been thrown off the bed in the midst of your feverish mess.
It doesn’t last long. His face crumples as he cums and he rubs your clit and pussy until you squeeze down on him right after.
His jaw drops into a low “o” when he cums. You thank every lucky star for birth control while you both come down off a high. The two of you lay there and pant for a while before his cock slides out of you and he collapses onto your bed.
“Holy fuck.” Katsuki mutters to no one but himself. Half of him can’t believe it. He feels like icy hot with his back and forth his thoughts are, reeling and trying to take in what happened and what is happening.
“Yeah—“ you roll and press your chest against him. A kiss to his jaw makes his heart throb. “God that was good.”
A thick, beefy arm wraps around you and he hides his face in your neck. He sighs and pulls you in closer.
“I better not be readin’ this shit wrong but..” He mumbles, yanking up the blankets over the two of you. “We’re a thing now right?”
You snort and laugh for a minute.
“Yeah, duh, dummy” You smack his chest and roll your eyes.
The AC finally does it’s job at cooling the two of you off and he grumbles and gets a towel to clean you off. It only takes a few minutes before the two of you are back in pajamas and laying on top of a throw blanket. The massive comforter pulled over the two of you.
You flick on the TV and scroll through some of the go to shows before curling against him with a sigh. When you glance up, you notice a deep frown on his face and grumble.
“What are you looking so pissy for?” You place a peck on his jaw and turn your attention back to the screen.
His big hands run up and down your body, thumbs dragging over your hips. With a look of defeat and a pout, he admits, “Eiji’ bet me a hundred bucks you liked me back.”
That earns him a smack on the chest. “Don’t you dare tell him it’s cause I caught you beating off in my bathroom, Katsuki.”
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crypticminx · 4 months
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Telling Felix Catton you’re pregnant <333
Felix Catton (Saltburn) x fem! Reader headcanons xo
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AN: hiiii these are some headcanons I made :p im too lazy to proofread Dx if you enjoy lmk if you want part 2! Blink twice and you’ll miss the smut xx
- first of all, your relationship started out as a one night stand situation because for the love of God Felix cannot keep a woman or anyone around for more than a few months—weeks even.
- You, however, were a different situation. He saw other people, you saw other people, but the two of you always kept each other locked in the back of both of your heads. Wether you needed him as a very exciting stress reliever or he needed you to release any ounce of frustration he had, the two of you were just a simple phone call away. And not just drunk booty calls.
- The feeling of his broad shoulders pressed against your frame as he would effortlessly lift you up and pin you to the wall, whispering sweet melodies into your ears as he thrusted with all of his might to make you feel good—no, more than good. He’d never admit it, but for a girl like you, he’d give you everything, even if meant he’d have nothing. “Such a good girl,” he’d purr, feeling you melt under the sound—and for a better word, control of his asserting voice
- The two of you lovebirds were loud, extremely noisy and often torturous for the other students near your dorm, who were either trying to cram for exams or focus on non-sexual activities. You would moan without a care in the world and especially when you felt him release his seed in you for the first time, which you could only assume wasn’t planned nor talked about between the two of you. It felt too sweet, and so pure with how he breathlessly smiled at your sweaty, blushing face after the deed was done. Said smile being enough to make you fall into his little trap and roll back over into another intense round of sex
- With Felix, it was like walking on a dream that never seemed to end. You could be careless, indiscreet and whatever the hell you wanted to be. he provided you with a sense of being free from the real world and wholeheartedly invited you deep into the unrealistic life of Felix Catton.
- That dream, the very one that appeared to be endless, came crashing down. What ruined it? Two little pink lines.
- With an eyebrow piercing that adults despised, a stunning model-like body, and a reputation for tossing girls around like they were paper planes; Felix was fuck buddy material, not father material.
- Sure, he has enough money to knock you up ten times and make sure every child would be provided for, but you were you. Yes, you came from wealth but not the type of catton wealth that would probably leave a child with a ridiculously expensive live-in nanny as if it was nothing. Knowing how your parents felt, there was no way in hell they would be supportive and even just the simple thought of them meeting Felix made you cringe to the point of triggering your morning sickness again.
- You would avoid Felix like the plague you read about in your boring history textbooks and on the rare occurrence you ran into him heading out on his bike or going for a well deserved drink, you would bolt as if you had to run for your life. Facing him was just the beginning of your problems
- So when you finally mustered the courage to tell him and unfortunately for you, it had to be at the university’s sleazy lounge pub, Felix was there in all his glory and sat in his usual spot. Farleigh seemed more interested in drinking than caring about what was being said, a group of girls were scattered around the boys and obnoxiously fake laughed at whatever Felix said, and there was that new guy whose name you couldn’t remember to save your life. Oliver? You thought it was, but that clearly didn’t matter anymore. The only thing that mattered was you and Felix.
- Felix nearly chokes on his drink seeing you walk towards him, your head down and your tail between your legs. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
- You ask him to talk immediately, ignoring how content he looks. How his solemn eyes instantly sparked with life again and his bored expression turned into a relish of happiness. He was thrilled.
- “I’m pregnant.”
- He stares blankly at you, seeing you tear up as if you just admitted something horrible
- A baby? And a baby with you? Nothing about that was horrible. In fact, he often pictured a future with you, even if it seemed insane.
- i he’s not angry. In fact his thick brows soften and somehow in the midst of all the chaos of noise surrounding the two of you, his words are very clear.
- “I’m glad it’s with you.”
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beansprean · 7 months
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Modern Dating with your Vampire Master...they're so silly actually.
Support me on Patreon or send a tip on Kofi!
(ID in alt and under cut)
ID: 1a. Shot of the exterior of the vampire house at night, lit from within. 1b. Wide shot in profile of Guillermo in the foyer, descending from the large front window on a tall teal ladder with a 'verner' logo on the side. He is wearing green chinos, boots, and a white collared shirt with suspenders; he has a blue bucket with a 'blowes' logo on the side full of cleaning products in one hand. From offscreen, Nandor calls, "Guillermo?" Guillermo responds absently with a "Hm?" concentrating on stepping down safely. 1c. Close up on Guillermo as he reaches the floor, looking over toward Nandor with mild curiosity. From offscreen, Nandor declares, "I would like to take you out on a date." 1d. Wide shot, knees up, of both men standing in the foyer, the doorway to the fancy room visible behind them, fireplace lit and glowing in the space between them. Guillermo, incredibly caught off card, shrieks out a choked keysmash of words and reflexively throws the bucket in his hands, sending it crashing into the ladder behind him and toppling it all to the ground. His eyes are comically wide, fixed on Nandor, and his face is flushed red. Nandor stands before him with his hands folded formally behind his back, shoulders back, head high, nervously looking away with flushed cheeks. 1e. Close up of Nandor returning his gaze towards Guillermo with a wobbly frown, chin tucked to his chest defensively as his nerves catch up to him. There are sounds of the ladder and bucket crashing to the floor offscreen. Guillermo stutters out, "You... you what?!" 1f. Repeat. Nandor puffs himself up angrily, baring his fangs as he snaps, flustered, "I am not repeating myself!"
2a. Chest up of them both in profile on a streaky brown background. Guillermo, flushed red and staring hard at Nandor, pushes his glasses up his nose and asks hesitantly, "You...want to go on a date...with me?" Nandor grimaces uncomfortably, shoulders tense as he leans his torso back away from Guillermo, cheeks purple and eyes looking elsewhere. He clarifies, "I said I wanted to take you on a date, that's not the same thing." Guillermo pushes, "But you do want that." Nandor grits out a painful "Yyyeeessss..." 2b. Extreme closeup of Nandor in the foreground, turning his head fully away from Guillermo to glare over his own shoulder, flustered and sweating nervously. In the background, Guillermo tilts his head with a frown, unimpressed, and counters, "Then why do you look like I have a stake to your heart when you say it?" 2c. Waist up of Nandor on an orange and yellow polka dot background as he turns back to face Guillermo, nervous and embarrassed. He twists his fingers together as he says, "Metaphorically...you do. You have for some time, in fact." 2d. Small reaction shot from Guillermo, staring with wide shining eyes and blushing cheeks on a background of pink bubbles. A large pink heart floats next to him, stabbed through with a stake and spurting drops of blood.
3a. Chest up of them both in profile on a streaky brown background. Guillermo is now the one to drop his gaze with a pleased smile, half turning away as he rubs nervously at his neck. He mumbles, "That's either really sweet or really concerning..." Nandor squeezes his eyes shut in frustration and flaps his hands around to shoo away the tangent in their conversation. He snaps, "Enough of this!" 3b. Close up of Nandor from Guillermo's POV on an orange and yellow starburst background. Nandor draws himself up tall, shoulders straight, chin up, and whips his head toward Guillermo, hair flying around his shoulders. He shouts, "Do you want to go on a date with me or not??" His demanding posture is betrayed only by the blush in his cheeks and the pleading shine in his eyes. 3c. Close up of Guillermo on an orange and yellow starburst background as he similarly draws up his shoulders, cheeks flushed, wide eyes meeting Nandor's. He immediately blurts out, "I do!!"
4a. Waist up of them both in profile, the left side of the foyer with the fancy room beyond visible in the background, fireplace lit and glowing in the space between them. Guillermo smiles, pleased and flustered, and looks down to play aimlessly with his fingers. He repeats at a more measured volume, "I...I do." Nandor grins and pumps both fists up to shake victoriously between them, replying, "Great!" 4b. Extreme closeup of Nandor's belt in the foreground as he whips around to walk away down the hall, long coat flapping like a cape. He declares, "You will meet me there at sundown tomorrow in your least-shitty sweater. Guillermo, waist-up in the background, stares after him with a besotted expression, hands clasped together over his chest and hearts floating around his dazed head. He smiles dreamily and replies, "Okay..." 4d. Small closeup on Guillermo on a pink background as he freezes, expression disappearing behind his glasses. His thoughts are expressed in large white letters above his head: "Wait." 4e. High shot of the foyer from the upper right corner, showing the full staircase, doorways to the hall and fancy room, and the ladder toppled over by the front door. Guillermo is jogging after Nandor toward the main hallway, calling after him, "Wait, meet you where? Mast-Nandor!" /end ID
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moonhoures · 7 months
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Pretty When You Cry
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🕷️ kinktober — day 11: dacryphilia 🕸️
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pairing: jeno (nct) + reader (afab/fem)
genre: non-idol!au, smut
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, oral (m receiving) / deepthroating, cum swallowing, multiple orgasms, mild (?) d/s dynamics, pet names: ‘baby’ & ‘princess’ for reader, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, dacryphilia (crying kink), creampie, jeno wears a chain necklace in this if that’s a visual you’re interested in 🤭
word count: ~1.4k
synopsis: tears shouldn’t look hot during sex, but somehow yours do
a/n: i don’t have much experience writing this kink so i hope this is good enough! <3
posted: october 11, 2023
kinktober masterlist
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To you, having sex with Jeno was like reaching nirvana. He knew this, and he used it to his advantage any time he could.
Neither of you had really discussed your power dynamics before engaging in your activities, but it seemed pretty clear to the both of you that Jeno had the upper hand—metaphorically and figuratively. He was the more dominant one in your relationship, even outside of sex. But during? He was above you, in every sense of the word.
Like now: you were on your knees with him standing in front of you, looking down at you as you sucked on his cock like the obedient little thing you were. His eyes seemed to melt as he watched you widen your lips as wide as you could, trying to take him in as deeply as you could possibly manage. Even when his tip hit the back of your throat. Even when you felt yourself starting to gag. You took a deep breath through your nose and remained calm. You laved beneath his semi-curved erection, relishing the feeling of his veins on your tongue. The soft hums from your throat had his knees feeling weak. His head lolled back, and his eyes closed.
“Fuck, I love when you do that, baby.”
You couldn’t physically smile, but your chest still erupted with that fluttering feeling that could only be described as pride.
“Yeah. Just like that,” he breathed out, head still tilted back. His hand was at the back of your own head, holding you as if you would float away if he didn’t. But his grasp wasn’t aggressive or harmful. No. It was gentle, cautious. He didn’t put any force on you; he simply let you do what you could, “I’m gonna- Shit. I’m not gonna last, baby, where do you want it?”
Jeno knew you didn’t particularly like swallowing. You usually preferred it when he came on your chest, or just anywhere except on you. But sometimes you didn’t mind, like tonight. He had been really sweet and helpful all day, tagging along with you while you did some errands around town. He had even got the bill when you two got lunch; you figured now would be as good a time as any to pay him back.
So you reached up, placing your hand delicately around the base of his dick, keeping him from pulling out. You could hear the small sound of surprise bubble up in his throat right before he choked out a groan and came on your tongue. It wasn’t a lot, which was good. Just enough that you could swallow it without thinking. You closed your eyes as you did so, and when you opened them he was looking at you with the most genuine bewilderment in his eyes. They only widened more when you stuck out your tongue to show him that you swallowed all of it.
“You’re perfect, you know that?” he asked, vein-riddled hands cupping your cheeks as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. He repeated, “Perfect.”
A beaming smile stretched out on your lips before they met his in a searing kiss that only became more ferocious as it went on. Rugged breaths floated between your mouths as they parted, desperate for oxygen.
“On the bed,” Jeno nodded once in the direction of the bed behind you, and you wasted no time getting to your feet. You headed for the queen-size, climbing up onto it swiftly. Once you were sat in the middle, Jeno approached the edge of the bed framing. You watched him move up the sheets until his body was hovering over yours, his silver chain necklace dangling off of his neck, inches from your face.
“How many rounds are we feeling tonight?” he always tried to gauge your stamina beforehand, knowing his was usually a little higher than yours. He never wanted to push your limits.
“Maybe three?”
His brow quirked up a bit, a satisfied smile itching to take place on his lips. Your number was higher than he expected, “Good.”
Your eyes were fixated on the little beauty mark just below the corner of his right eye. Something so simple, but it added a little charismatic nuance to his appearance. You reached up, brushing your fingertips against his cheekbone just as an unexpected gasp of a breath left your lungs. You hadn’t even noticed Jeno prepping himself between your legs until he was already starting to thrust his cock into you. He did it slowly, though, not wanting to take you too off guard. He monitored your reaction carefully; his intense gaze holding your soft one until you melted into a state of pleasure from being filled to the brim.
“How’s that?” he asked, voice soft and endearing.
“Good,” you nodded. And before anymore words could be shared, he began thrusting in and out of you. You were mesmerized by the swaying motions his necklace did in front of your eyes nearly the entire time.
His hips moved like liquid between yours, swift, fluid motions sending waves of satisfaction throughout your lower body. He knew all the right ways to move to have you feeling absolutely euphoric. One time, in the heat of the moment, he had made the comment that his dick was made specifically for your pussy. It had come out in grunts before he had cum, but you remembered feeling stunned by his words. Now more than ever, you were starting to believe them. Because his dick really did seem to fill you completely and wholeheartedly. He hit every spot that had your eyes rolling back until you saw nothing but a dark abyss behind your eyelids, sporadically littered with bright spots and stars. His hips slotted perfectly between yours. And when he came inside of you, you felt a sense of gratification that you never felt with anyone else.
“God, you look so fucking pretty like this.”
Jeno’s voice brought you out of your lust-filled thoughts of him and into the reality of him. Your eyes caught the scrunch at the bridge of his nose as he roughly rutted into you. One glance to your side had you melting as you saw the way his biceps and forearms flexed with every one of his movements. He grunted between gritted teeth, and suddenly his hand was caressing your cheek. His thumb rubbed lightly across your cheekbone, collecting tears that you hadn’t realized were cascading down your face.
“You’re even prettier when you cry,” he laughed incredulously, finding your fucked-out state a massive turn-on. He didn’t think his dick could get any harder, but it was starting to feel that way, “Does it really feel that good, princess?”
“Mhm,” you babbled an incoherent response. Tears ran hot out the corners of your eyes, falling down your neck and landing on the pillow in fat droplets. Jeno swiped the tear tracks, loving the puffiness of your eyes. The pinkish red hue blushing over the whites in them. The glossiness of them as you tried to look at him. The little sniffling sounds you made. Something about you being so overwhelmed with pleasure that he was causing just had his head absolutely swimming.
“Keep those eyes on me while you cum,” he instructed you, knowing your orgasm was growing close. The feeling of your walls fluttering tightly around his cock was enough to give it away. But your hands were also grasping onto his body desperately like a lifeline.
You nodded, eyes closing for a moment as you felt yourself approaching the edge of release. When you opened your eyes again, multiple tears escaped down your cheekbone. This time, Jeno didn’t rub them away with the pad of his thumb. Instead, he leaned down and kissed them. His lips pressed against your cheek, and as you came, his tongue prodded between his lips. He licked a short line up your skin, collecting the salty drops on his tastebuds.
He held you in his cage-like embrace as you melted in it, your thighs twitching and pussy clenching, milking him. He moaned, forehead dropping onto your shoulder. He grinded his hips into yours as he also came, filling your walls with a milky-white essence. The skin between your legs felt sticky, but you didn’t complain, not even when he pulled out of you. You did let out a little whine, though.
“I know, baby,” he smiled softly, caressing your jaw with his thumb, “Two more. Just need a quick breather.”
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— taglist #1
@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite
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aluciahaz · 2 months
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Mommy kink x reader fix for luci pls, idc the circumstances, I’m desperate here.
arent we all 😔 here u go!! it was pretty fun writing this, i love METAPHORS!!!!
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touch of temptation
—lucifer x gn!reader
—includes : sub!lucifer, dom!reader, mommy kink, edging
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lucifer’s been alone for quite some time now. yet, when you came around, you made sure to change that immediately.
of course, due to the absence of affection for years, he’s stuck to you like glue, always perking up when he sees you enter a room and running toward you with his stupid little grin.
albeit, adorable stupid little grin.
his desire for touch was not only apparent during daily life, always hooking his arm around you or poking you in jest, but in the nightlife as well.
lucifer was needy. desperate. his longing for touch was one you indulged in without question much of the time, yet some nights the two of you agreed upon abstaining him from such wants. he was the king of hell after all, of course, he’d be a little freaky.
which is why he was sobbing underneath your maddening touch, his head falling back as he cries in dismay from his inability to finish due to your quick reactions whenever he’d get close, pulling your hand away just in time to elicit a noisy whine from the king.
“l-let—me cum, mommy, please!” he wails as you drive into him, pushing him to the brink of insanity as your hand returns to his cock. he bucks up into your hand wildly, only to have his hips held down with a stern push.
“not yet, baby. stay strong for me,” you coo, yet your soft tone goes against your actions, sharp, fast, and most importantly, ruthless.
he snivels before taking in a deep, shuttering breath, nodding his head weakly at your request.
“o-okay! i’ll tr—AH!” his fingers dig into your skin, grasping onto your back like his life depended on it.
and it only gets rougher when you let go of his cock.
the scream of frustration that ripped from his throat was adorable, considering how it would get interrupted by his choking wails. you can’t help but place a kiss on top of his forehead, soothing him just a bit. he always melts at the slightest act of affection, it’s wonderful.
his legs wrap around your waist as though he‘s a snake trying to constrict its prey. he needed to hold onto you like this, to feel you as much as he could. you were his temptation, and he was willing to lose himself in it.
“pl-please please! mommy, i need—! ngh—f-fuck!” he pleads aimlessly, finding himself lost in his seemingly endless pleasure.
“use your words, baby,” you tell him, knowing fully well as you thrust faster that he would be unable to form a single sentence.
“ha—i, you—so goodwait—AH! c-can’t think-!” the fallen angel seemed to find his place back in heaven, considering how far up his head was in the clouds. but, he’s brought back down to hell as your hand finds its place around his shaft again, making him jolt in shock.
he whines louder and louder, tears never stopping as he takes what you give in full stride, never trying to go against your earlier command.
he was as sweet as an apple and red as one too with a never faltering blush across his face and chest. you couldn’t help but take a bite, his neck being the perfect area for a mark.
the shaky moans that leave him are beautiful, and with how well he was taking all of your love, you just had to give him his reward.
“you’re such a good boy,” you huff out a chuckle as you hear him whine in delight, soaking up the praise needily.
“you can cum for me now, my love,” you coo, drinking in his face of pure gratitude as he hears you.
“c-can i? can i re—ah—! really?” he asks as he cries in joyous disbelief, looking at you with wide, tear-filled eyes.
“yes, baby,” you say gently, and without a second’s hesitation, he shudders and screams in mind-breaking ecstasy, the horns on his head slowly peeking from his head as he finishes.
“th-thank—! thank—! thank y-you—mh—mommy!” he wails, his eyes rolling to the back of his head briefly before slowly looking back up at you with a dazed look.
his legs still tremble around your waist before slipping down to the bed, completely exhausted. you take your time to care for him, cleaning and making sure to cuddle your little touch-starved lover as quickly as you could.
he’s already asleep in your arms in the first few seconds, snoring lightly. you kiss the back of his neck delicately before heading off to rest as well.
and it would be peaceful until morning, where, like every morning, he would whine and clutch onto you to make sure you wouldn’t leave the bed, never able to fulfill his endless hunger for your touch.
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tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist
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romanarose · 4 months
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Yes, Uncle Tommy?
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DBF!Joel Miller x fem!reader
DBF!Tommy Miller x fem!reader
Join my taglist : Masterlist
Summary: Something something, Santa's not the only one coming?
or
Your dads friend's kid brother, Tommy, fucks you while Joel watches... but Joel cant keep his hands to himself
Warnings and Content: Big, girthy age gap, degrading, rough sex, cucking Joel, objectification (calling her a toy, a sex doll etc). Tommy is playfully teasing you but it's in jest. Jerking off, cream pie and cum in face, make up smearing, ass eating, praise, "daddy" joel, "uncle tommy" threesome between brothers but they are far away from each other, but watching. ball sucking, mentions of oral, m and f receiving, slapping, pinning down, nipple play, spitting. EXPLICITE AND LOVING CONSENT! This was a lot so if i missed anything LMK!!!!!
Immersability: Reader is fem, has hair, reader is much younger than Joel and Tommy. Mentions of readers stomach jiggling but i think most (not all i'll conceed!) do when folded and pounded lol. Mentions of a "bruising grip" as a metaphor but not mentions of bruising or coloration.
The requested part two to Yes, Mr. Miller? but you don't gotta read before.
1.7 k Words
**************
"Jesus Christ!" Tommy laughed at you mockingly. "Look at her, struggling so hard to take it!"
Joel knelt behind you, fisting his cock above you as you chocked on his balls. "Be nice, baby's just sensitive." He warned his brother. He liked to watch Tommy's cock disappear into your little cunt.
"Yeah cause your scruffy excuse for a beard was all up in between her legs for hours before you decided to invite me in."
Joel had intended on fucking you raw in your bed again, but when Tommy heard the sounds coming out of your door, he put two and two together. After a brief, whispered deliberation with you, Joel invited him in.
'Be my own, personal porn star.' He had instructed. You knew just what Joel liked to see, and now he had the perfect view. Still, you couldn't help the sounds that drew Tommy in the first place so to keep your mouth occupied, Joel shoved his cock in your mouth. After he decided you were a little overwelmed, he switched to his balls.
"Poor little, baby..." Tommy mused. "Get'n awfully squirmy... wassamatter? Can't take it?" It was mostly playful mockery, but also his way of checking up on you.
All he got was a muffled whine as slobbered on Joel's fat balls.
Joel sat back on his haunches, pulling himself out of you but dragging his heavy balls on your face along the way, making sure to smear your make up as he spat a glob of spit on your before slapping you across the face.
"Uncle Tommy asked you a question, baby. Didn't daddy teach you your manners?"
Choking back a sob as you're stretched to the limit at the core of you, Tommy slows down to allow you to breath without his cock punching the air out of your lungs.
"Y-yes, unclemmmm, uncle Tommy?" You ask in your bestest, goodest girl voice.
"I said," Tommy grabbed your hips and yanked you down till you hit his pelvis, making you gasp. He dropped his body down to kiss your neck and said in a soft voice. "Are you doing alright?"
"Yes, Uncle Tommy, thank you sir." You seal it with a kiss on the lips and a buck of your hips, spurring Tommy on again.
The younger Miller groaned, pulling back and smiling at his brother as his hips snapped into you with fury. Both kept their shirts and a light jacket on incase they needed to clean up quick, and the way you were crying out, Joel wasn't sure you could keep from alerting the whole house when you came.
Joel placed his hands on your shoulders, pinning your wriggling body down. "Hold still, little girl..." Joel chastised, shuttering a bit at the lose of stimulation from his rough hands.
"M'm sorry daddy" You whine, but do little to stop the writhing on the bed.
Soothingly, Joel ran his hands down your still-clothes chest, swiping over your hard nipples and going back to rub your neck, repeating this motion and keeping you pinned down.
"It's okay, sweet girl, it's a lot, isn't it?"
It was, it was so fucking much. Joel was longer, but Tommy's cock was fatter, splitting you open wide. Despite the ache, you we so, so fucking high off pleasure right now, you could scream. Your stomach swooped with every thrust, Tommy hitting you right in your core as Joel massaged you, neglecting his own aching cock.
"Such a good little girl for us Joel, thanks for sharing your little toy." Tommy smacked your thigh, forcing you to bite down on your lip to prevent the yelp. "Hurts so good, but she's taking it anyway. Fuuuck, brother squeeze'n me so tight I think she's about to cum! Pathetic little thing, ain't she."
"Ohhh, she just wants to be good, Tommy! She just wants to be a little fuck doll for her daddy and uncle, bet her whole family can hear her little pussy getting torn apart." As Joel brought his hands down again, he squeezed your tits in a bruising grip, sure to leave a mark, before rolling your perky nipples between his fingers.
"Fuck, daddy!" You cry, making Tommy laugh again.
"I dunno Joel, I reckon you better fill her mouth up again before her real daddy comes in to find her being used like a blow up sex doll."
"I think you're right, brother."
"Always am."
Joel knelt up again, balls dangling above you and you open your mouth eagerly to taste his musk, but Joel surprises you by lowering himself down so his ass was right on your mouth. You could feel his balls on your chin as her jerked himself, muffling your moans and cries and begging with his ass.
"Oh fuuuck yeah, that's it, my dirty little girl"
Tommy chuckles, never relenting on his pace on you, fucking into your waiting body with everything he had. "Fucking nasty. She'll just let you do anything to her, huh?"
"Pretty much. Little girl just wants to make her daddy proud." You and Joel had actually talked about ass eating before and you said you were game, given the proper sanitary measures. Joel never actually did anything you didn't want or anything he hadn't asked about.
Glancing to the side, Joel saw your teddy, the little toy he had you clutching when he fucked you over thanksgiving and god an idea. Taking the toy and gripping at the neck, Joel pressed the button to your clit right above where his brother was defiling your little cunt. "Teddy wants you to come, baby."
He feels your whimpers reverberate between his ass cheeks as you like into him, tongue prodding at his tight hole. You briefly had the thought of slipping a finger up his ass, but remember that had not been discussed yet. You wondered if he'd let you peg him.
Joel looked up at Tommy, his brother's boyish face grinning wildly back at him. Joel had made Tommy start of easy, not going full pace just yet as he wasn't sure you could take that for too long, but now, as things were coming to an end, Joel wanted you absolutely destroyed. He picked your pretty make up smearing all over his ass.
"Go nuts Tommy. Fuck her like a rag doll."
Given full permission, Tommy was unleased. He gripped your hips, lifting them off he bed and he heard a muffled squeal before fucking hard and fast, your skirt falling down and revealing your jiggling belly. He was an absolutely mad man, slapping into you with such fervor Joel was carefully paying attention to your grip on his thighs as you ate him in case you needed to tap out, but your never once faltered on your tongue work. Joel took the moment to jerk his cock furiously, his one personal porn star getting fucking right in front of him, and him having the best seat in the house.
"Fuck, Joel." Tommy calls his attention, voice strained and eyes pinched closed. "She's fuck'n cum'n, cum'n real har- oh fuuuuck... shit! 'm cuming so hard!" With a few more grunts, Tommy spilled into you, filling you up with gushes of his warm seed.
Just then, Joel pulled back off your face just in time to spray the hot white on the red and black mixture of your make up, releasing with a grunt.
"Fuck darl'n, such a sexy little fuck doll for me..." When he was finished, Joel rubbed your teddy on your messy, soiled face. "Good girl.... such a good girl..." He coaxed Tommy to lay down, redressing himself before grabbing your makeup removing wipes and the baby wipes you added to your collection for days like this. He grabbed a few make-up wipes and tossed the baby wipes to Tommy. Joel sat on the bed, pulling your limp body towards him to rest your head on his lap. As Tommy took care gently wiping your aching and puffy pussy, tender in his strokes but thorough, Joel wiped down your soiled face, both whispering words of praise.
"Such a pretty girl"
"Did so well for us, princesca."
"Perfect thing."
Once you (and teddy) were clean, Tommy made his exit with a parting kiss, leaving you and Joel together.
"How do you feel, baby girl?" He asked, smoothing his hand over your face to sooth you.
"Great, Daddy. How do you feel?" You wanted to check in with him too. Fucking you at the same time as his brother may not have been the threesome he initially proposed, but you hoped you weren't dissapointing.
You could feel the smile in his voice. "Absolutely perfect, darling girl. amazing"
You laid there on his lap for a few moments until you heard the bathroom door opening after Tommy and your dads tell tale footsteps up the stairs.
"Heya Tom, where you been hiding?"
"Oh," Nervous laughter as he patted his stomach. "Just, you know, the eggnog. You know how I am with dairy." Tommy is talking too loud, signaling Joel to make his escape.
Joel mutters 'shitshitshit' and quickly put his shoes on, you scrambling to push him into the closet.
"You seen Joel lately? Or my kid? Wanna make sure she ain't drank too much. She gets a little dizzy sometimes with alcohol."
"Uhhh no man, ain't seen 'er. Joel i think went out for a smoke though."
"I'll check in her room."
"OH, uh, you know, she might be sleeping." He was so fucking loud and a bad actor.
You shut the closet door, and scramble back to your bed just in time for your dad to knock gently before carefully opening and calling your name in hushed tone. "High honey, you feeling okay? Disappeared there for a moment."
"Yeah dad, I'm alright. Just feeling a little under the weather is all."
"You have too much to drink?"
"Yeah, that might be it..."
"Ill get you some water, alright? And a bite to eat. make you feel better. Be back in a sec."
"Thank you daddy!"
When the door closed, you tell Joel it's clear and he comes out of the closet.
"Go, he's gonna make me leftovers, now's your chance!" You begin shoving him to your door, just Joel stops, pinching your cheeks with his thumb and forefingers.
"Don't you ever call another man daddy, understood?"
Through your squished cheeks you murmur. "Yes, Mr. Miller." He kisses you on the forehead and makes his exit.
*****************
Special shout out to @pedge-page bc the teddy scene was from their work Plushies Series Masterlist that fried my brain!
Thank you for all your love on yes, mr miller? i hope you like this too!
Im not getting rid of my tag list, but im adding an update blog, @romana-updates ! come follow and/or turn on notifications so you dont miss a thing!
But if being tagged is more your style, comment on the tag list linked above!
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whetstonefires · 1 year
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I am a bit surprised at your tags saying you like jar jar, I don't really know anybody who's a fan in 2023. What's the appeal there, would you say?
Did people like JarJar more in the past? I remember when the prequels were new, his poor actor almost died from the harassment. Surely the venom against JarJar has only weakened.
But mmmmm...I guess what I enjoy about JarJar is he just. He sucks so bad. Nobody has any use for him. He's not just bad at emergencies and space and knowing you have to pay for food, he's not even good at Gungan-ing.
But he's just kinda allowed to be like that. He's there. The other protagonists are varying levels of Ugh Why but they don't try to solve him. He gets Recognition From His People at the end of TPM and fails his way upward in galactic politics and has good intentions and tries sincerely and fucks up so so bad, and is dumb as hell.
He doesn't get punished by the story for being a loser. He's allowed.
That's what made so many people so mad at him back when, and I do get it because any scene he's in is hard to take seriously, he's walking bathos, he's like Original Swamp Yoda without the redeeming kung fu drama. But also wow yikes no.
Let me sit with this a bit and let me see if I can turn this vibe into words better.
Like @husborth was totally correct in saying the whole Gungan plotline was a waste of screentime, a fun little excuse plot allowed to run riot due to unchecked directorial hubris, and contributed to the prequel films being atrociously paced pieces of cinema. But (somewhat consequently) there's something luxurious about JarJar Binks being allowed to go around existing so much, something I think is prototypical of the whole prequel tone and its contrast to the snappy war-film energy of the original trilogy in a way that...really works to create the atmospheric contrast between life in the Republic and life under the Empire.
The Republic was a bloated ancient mess of a government riddled with corruptions, and badly out-of-whack power balances and decayed support nets that weren't technically corruption but weren't working well either, and inefficiency.
And also what the fascists like to call decadence. You know?
Like one of the consequences of having a tolerant diverse society is that even when poorly run and afflicted with capitalism it is going to be full of fantastically annoying weirdos who don't have anything better to do than embarrass people by talking, and there's nothing to be done about that that morally can be. You can't Force Choke people for annoying and have a free society. We all gotta make our peace with the fact that JarJar Binks has every right to exist.
Not that JarJar Binks is necessary to any specific piece of media. I am not advocating for annoying gag sidekicks in general. But I am saying that JarJar Binks is metaphorically inevitable, whenever people are allowed to just kinda be.
So his presence on some level feels political to me, inasmuch as Star Wars are actually political films at all, which isn't very much. But definitely not none either!
Also I am old enough to have grown less susceptible to secondhand embarrassment so I am able to forgive JarJar his cringe. He can still be a little painful to watch! But I do like that he's there.
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sytoran · 10 months
Text
𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄 | 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐧𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐭.𝟑
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you and natasha were star-crossed lovers, separated by galaxies and timelines. like any other shakesperean tragedy, you and natasha's tale comes to an end... or does it?
pairing: goddess!natasha x dom!fem!reader (G!P)
note: this is the 3rd installment to the goddess!nat universe! please read the other parts first if you haven't already. this part contains major angst and smut. i have spent ungodly hours on this chapter.
word count: 4.5k (i am impressed with myself)
series m.list | main m.list | join the taglist | AO3
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Previously… 
No one escapes the consequences of their actions. Not even the Goddess of Lust, who had formed romantic relationships with a mortal. SHIELD’s decision to forbid the two of you from ever seeing each other again tears apart all the ‘what-ifs’ of a bright future.
Now…
Natasha doesn’t know how many hours she’s been crying in the bathtub.
After the finality of SHIELD’s crushing decision had truly weighed itself upon Natasha’s burdened shoulders, the mere thought of what she would have to do to you shook her to the bone.
Which is why she crashed at her sister’s place: to cry her problems away in a bathtub made of priceless gold, alongside a fine bottle of Pinot Grigio.
“Jesus, Nat, you’re gonna die of hypothermia if you stay in there a second longer.” Yelena says, kicking open the bathroom door with a tray of smoked salmon appetizers in hand.
“Take one,” Yelena says absentmindedly, sitting herself on the edge of the bathtub next to Natasha’s partially-submerged form. “Food helps with everything.”
Natasha doesn’t respond, only looking up at her sister through glassy eyes. Empty eyes. She felt raw and numb at the same time, but the contrasting emotions were merely child’s play in comparison to the storm that raged within her weary mind.
Yelena looks at her unamusedly, before folding her arms. “Talk to me,” she stated firmly, and it wasn’t a request.  The blonde sister was the Goddess of War, after all, she could be as intimidating and ruthless as she wanted to be.
Hot-headed at times, sure, but so paradoxically calculative and strategic at other times Natasha felt like she could get whiplash. Despite all of the finicky situations the older sister had found herself drowning in, Yelena was always there for her, fiercely protective with a passion like no other.
This was no different, with Yelena being the hand to pull her out of the water. Physically and metaphorically. 
Natasha inhaled shakily, then exhaled and felt a whole lot worse than before. Impulsively, she snatched one of the smoked salmon appetizers off the plate and stuffed it in her mouth, feeling her eyes well up as she does so.
“Damn, this human fucked you up this bad?” The blonde said quizically, with an air of sarcastic wit on the surface but a layer of genuine concern underneath only Natasha would be able to decipher. 
"... I've fallen in love with her." The Goddess says softly, faraway, like she was floating with the wind and time itself. Detached from reality, or perhaps running away from it.
Yelena stayed silent. For once, the Goddess of War was at a loss. 
“I’ve fallen in love with her,” Natasha says again, with slightly more conviction. She looks to her blonde sister, and Yelena’s heart nearly shatters at the sight of the sheer hurt on Natasha’s face. So broken, so agonized, everything that she did not deserve to be.
“But that doesn’t even matter, alright? She gave me her heart, Lena, and I’m going to have to break it. I’m gonna break so many– Fuck, I’m gonna have to break every single promise I’ve ever made to her, like she’s some kind of toy.” Natasha chokes out. “And I don’t, I fucking don’t– understand why it was us, why I lead her on and why I let it happen. I’m fucking stupid, and now it’s blown up in my face. Maybe I deserve it. Maybe I-”
“You’ve never deserved it,” Yelena interrupts, placing a hand over her sisters’. Is that how you’re supposed to comfort someone? Yelena doesn’t know. Anyways, she’s trying. “Nat, I know you’re the Goddess of Lust, and your reputation precedes you, but, you, of all people, deserve love.”
You deserve love… what a fucking lie that was.
“Don’t try that on me,” Natasha snaps, her walls snapping back up in record timing. Her self-destructive defence builds like armour, and soon she’s standing up. 
“I’ve done some fucked up shit in the past, and I’m very aware of it. I thought I’d moved past it, but now those demons have caught up to me, and I can’t do jackshit but watch the love of my life slip away from my fingers. I don’t deserve love, it just happened to find me and I played along because I thought it could last.”
Natasha’s chest heaves at the impact of the outburst. She stares at Yelena, who remains painfully impassive. Arms folded, jaw working on the stupid fucking smoked salmon.
Fuck, she wanted to hurt someone. Make them feel her pain. Let it consume them like it’s consuming her, let it choke them and–
“Is that what you really think, Nat? That you were simply playing a game with Y/N L/N? Because I assure you, I haven’t seen much but I know damn well that those two months with her pure, unfiltered, undying, devotion.”
Yelena’s words puncture a hole into her conscience, injecting venom with it. Each syllable, each emphasis, cuts her. Because Natasha knows that it’s true, but she can’t accept it or she’ll never be able to let you go.
So all she does is give Yelena the best death stare she can muster, and stalk out of her bathroom like her clothes aren’t dripping with bubbly water. (Yes, she had gone into the bathtub with all her clothes on. Depression waited for no man, or Goddess.)
She shakes her head, forcing the stray thoughts to dissipate, and fixes up her appearance with wordless magic.
My palace. Natasha visualizes the place, closing her eyes, and when she opens them again, she’s standing right outside the door.
Apprehensively, she puts her hand on the handle to the huge, sparkling door. You would be waiting on the other side, waiting for Natasha to come home. 
Waiting for Natasha to break your heart.
She pushes the door open before she can cower and hide, before she can run away and curse every sentient being in existence. 
It was time for her mortal demise.
It was time for Natasha to see the fruits of your hard work.
You wipe the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand, huffing heavily but proud nonetheless. You step back to admire the absolute feast you had prepared for your girlfriend.
The fancy dining table was adorned with a checkered tablecloth and ornate with all kinds of things, expensive plates and cutlery already set up, just for two.
It was no secret that Natasha loved your home-cooked meals, despite being able to eat whatever she wanted, as a Goddess with a private chef. She had sworn you put something magical into your food.
You’ll never forget the moan she let out the first time she ate your perfected medium-rare New York Strip.
Which is exactly why you’ve spent over an hour cooking up a banquet of all kinds of food for the Goddess, an array of cuisines from all around the world. As much as you loved the hot sex you had with Natasha, you were an absolute sucker for the domesticity of life with her, how simple and perfect it was.
As if on cue, you hear the front door open, which was not too far away from the dining hall. 
Your heart physically leaps, unbridled excitement adorning your features. Natasha had taken longer than she normally would, and you could barely contain the anticipation thrumming in your bones.
That is, until you see Natasha standing in the hallway defeatedly, shoulders sagged and eyes lowered. Like all the life had been sapped out of her.
Fuck, you had never seen her like this. Natasha was the embodiment of undying energy, always with a smile on her face, or her expression schooled into composure, or her eyes fluttering in a state of lust. Not like this. 
Never like this.
“Darling?” you ask, hushed. You take one step towards her, tentatively. The head of red hair looks up to you, and Natasha’s biting her lip like she’s stopping the words from falling out of her mouth, like she’ll start crying if you say one word more.
“I-” Natasha tries, her voice hoarse and choked. The rest of her sentence dies in her throat, as she shakes her head and strides past you quickly, like she can’t burn any longer under your gaze.
Your hand drops in complete loss as Natasha simply walks past you, shoulders brushing like a ghost of what used to be warm hugs and sweet kisses. You chase after her before you know it, yelling her name as the Goddess speeds up.
Natasha blinks back tears furiously, striding through the dining hall as the servants scatter like mice. She hardly registers the feast prepared on the ornate table, vision blurring with each desperate cry of her name you let out.
“Natasha? What’s the matter? Talk to me, please!” 
You sprint faster, dodging your way through the hallways and up the wide set of stairs. The Goddess is within arm’s reach, now, and you extend your arm to grab onto hers, so you can spin her around and ask what on earth is going–
And the Goddess simply teleports away at the last second, the fleeting touch of her warm skin dissipating into thin air.
“Fuck!” you yell, eyes darting in frustration. Why was Natasha acting like this? Had you done something? Forget her birthday? No, that was December 3rd. Forget the anniversary of your first meeting? Nope, that was January 24th. What on earth had you done? Or had she done something? You–
No, okay, calm down. Slow down. The rational voice in your head speaks up. Where would Natasha have gone? What was a significant place she would escape to, in times of distress?
After a moment of contemplation, you find your answer, and sooner than later you’re sprinting up the long flight of spiral staircases to the Astronomy Tower. 
Natasha’s thankful for the dome-shaped glass ceiling the tower has, doing what it can to block out the cold. The sky is absolutely breathtaking, a heart-wrenching contrast to her inner turmoil.
It’s a dark blue and a soft pink, with millions of little bright planets splashing across the canvas like silver sequins. The view of the galaxy from the land of the Gods had always been the greatest, after all. 
The Goddess stands, unmoving and breathing lightly. She doesn’t feel the least bit better, but at least she’s calmed down in the slightest.
She’s bought some time by teleporting up here. Her hands were clammy, but no matter how many times she wipes them down on her dress it doesn’t change a thing. She can’t change a thing, not for anything, not for you.
“Natasha?” you ask, weakly, heaving at having sprinted up so many flights of stairs. 
At the sight of you, the Goddess feels the tears spring back into her eyes again. Stupid. She wants to say sorry. Stroke your face and kiss your lips, maybe. Well, not maybe, because she can’t. Because it’s the last– nope, she can’t say it.
“Nat, can you….. fuck, I need to work out more. Can you tell me what’s going on, please? I made- I made a New York Strip, if you’re hungry–”
The Goddess walks up to you, cradling the side of your face in her hands. Oh, fuck it. Tender, sweet, delicate. You’ve never seen her face like this before, so soft yet so broken.
“What—”
You’re cut off when Natasha leans into your space, eyelids fluttering shut. And for once, this wasn’t preordained or predetermined. You didn’t have to calculate the next move. You didn’t have to fix a destiny. 
Natasha’s lips meet yours in a grand, cruel, beautiful, broken kiss.
It feels so right, tongues interlocking like cogs on a machine, quavering breaths escaping from the sides of her mouth. You let her in, you drink her up. All other thoughts shut down.
Natasha kisses you with a hyena’s jaw, swearing she could never get enough, never satiate her desires for you, even if everything else is wrong. You’re stealing her every breath, every kiss, every sigh — she needed more.
She slides her hand down your torso, hands already finding the hem of your pants. But then you push her away – for the first time, for that last time – you push her away, and step back, and your head is spinning.
“I deserve to know,” you breathe heavily, and Natasha’s heart cracks. “You’re scaring me, Nat, okay? First you brush past me all soulless, and then you make me chase after you, and then you kiss me so- so sadly, and now you wanna fuck? It doesn’t make sense, not at all. I wanna know, I deserve to know, I–”
“You deserve everything,” Natasha interrupts, eyes transfixed on you now, and they look kaleidoscopic, just like the galaxy that hung above your heads. “You deserve everything, but I can’t give you what you need, and that’s why this is the last time we’re ever seeing each other again.”
Silence ensues.
You take a good moment to actually mentally digest what Natasha had just said. “...What?” 
“This is the last time we’re ever seeing each other again,” she repeats, firmer. You let out a bark of laughter in disbelief, half-joking, but Natasha’ stony face makes your face drop.
“Are you… breaking up with me?” you whisper, scared to say it loud, like doing so would make it less true. Natasha feels her heart clench, and her hands shake because you’ve never sounded so small, so vulnerable.
“No, I’m not– I had to, Y/N, darling,” Natasha says, trying to reason, clasping your hands in hers, shaking her head desparately, like it would stop her eyes from welling up. “I’m a Goddess, and you’re a mortal. I love you, please. But we can’t do this, we can’t-”
“Is it me?” you ask, softly, troubled. Eyes locking Natasha’s magnificent green eyes, one’s that you’ve fallen in love with a thousand times. Ones that you were still in love with.
“No,” Natasha says immediately, her knuckles whitening. “It’s not you. Definitely not.”
“Then who is it?” you follow up, eyes narrowing, head tilted. “Who’s the one tearing us apart?”
It was them, Natasha wants to scream out, until her lungs burned and her chest heaved and she ran out of tears. You’re the best fucking thing that’s happened in my life, and I’m a damned fool if I ever let you go, but this isn’t in my hands anymore. She wanted to curse the higher beings for centuries, taint their names with bitter words, but she couldn’t get the words out of her mouth.
You grow more hopeless as the silence stretches on. 
No, you’re the villain. Natasha’s voice says in her head. This was what had come to bite her back, this was her karma. You’re paying for everything you’ve ever done wrong, for all the hearts you’ve broken and never mended. It’s your turn to face the music, your turn to go through suffering. What a shame, isn’t it? That she’s the one who’s so hurt because of you. Y/N L/N. Only person to blame is yourself.
…Only person to blame is yourself.
“It’s me,” Natasha finally says, a shell of a woman who once was, and the Goddess swears she hears your heart smash into smithereens, the glass pieces against the floor you trod on.
“No, what are you saying, Nat?” you ask, confused, tearing up, visibly shaking. “You’re- we’re together. We’re doing good. We’re doing so fucking good, please don’t–”
“I’m the Goddess of Lust, and you’re an attorney from earth. We were never gonna work out. I wasn’t made to have long-lasting, committed relationships. Just… lustful nights,” the falsehood of the words that fell out of Natasha’s mouth wasn’t her own. It tasted bitter on her tongue, but it was like medicine and it was the right thing to do.
You needed a villain. Someone to hate. Someone to blame it all on.
And Natasha happened to be a very good one.
“We were a time-ticking bomb, Y/N, separated by galaxies you could never even fathom.” she continues. “We were never meant to be. I realise how wrong I am for this, because it was never real–”
“It was real to me!” You yell out, voice cracking, tears in your eyes. 
Natasha is stunned by the sheer volume of your words, so ferocious and so determined and fuck, she was pathetic. “It was fucking real to me, alright? It was the realest thing I’ve ever had in my entire life. It was so fucking real, Nat, so you don’t get to just pretend you never fell in love!”
Love.
“Love?” Natasha asks, letting out an amused huff of disbelief. “Love doesn’t exist, not in my world, Y/N L/N. It had to end at some point, you know that. You have your responsibilities, I have mine. We’re over, alright?”
You stand there, feet rooted on the ground, face fallen and ashen and grey. This was a dream. This was a dream, and you’d wake up next to the real Natasha later, the one with sweet smiles and peanut butter cookies, and everything would be alright.
“I’ve said what I had to say,” the Goddess says, and she has to regulate her breathing so she won’t choke on her words and swallow them back. She had to escape before she fell to her knees and begged you for forgiveness. “I’m leaving, now.”
She turns, and you grab her arm. “You’re staying.” you state, non-negotiable. A commanding tone. One that Natasha had grown to love.
This time, she scoffs, wrenching herself out of your grasp. “Fucking make me, then.”
Just like that, a lever between the two of you was flicked, and the sexual tension you’d been trying to avoid since just now is nearly suffocating.
“We’re not gonna do this right now,” You growl, looking up at the ceiling with a clenched jaw. Teetering on the edge of precipice was your raging impulse, to either punch a hole in the wall or shove your hand up Natasha’s skimpy dress.
The Goddess tilts her head up in defiance, looking at you daringly in the eyes. Your eyes narrow, taking it as a challenge. God, she looked so fucking bratty like that, and it didn’t help that she was still wearing a stupidly skimpy dress and that her pink lip gloss made that mouth so damn kissable.
“No? Then I’m leaving,” Natasha says abruptly, her tone of voice unyielding and domineering. She uncrosses her arms and turns on her heel, her hand going to the door of the tower. 
The rhythmic clicking of her strappy high heels against the tiling of the ground ticks your brain like a metronome. You stand there with your arms folded, her long legs in the field of vision of narrowed eyes. 
Click, click, click–
And then she’s being spun around and slammed against the back of the door with an unruly force.
“The only time someone ever turns their back on me, when I’m talking, is when they’re bendin’ over,” you growl into Natasha’s skin, each pause in your sentence filled with a harsh bite to her porcelain skin. Her gasp-turned-moan is heaven to your ears. 
Natasha struggles for a moment, hand still grasping for the doorknob. “Fuck,” she cries, but she feels the gyration of your roughly-shoved thigh up her dress and she nearly loses it. You wrap a hand around her neck, letting her give up her power, and you do what you’ve done a thousand times before.
Except this was the last time.
You don’t bother to take off her garments as you hike up the bottom of her dress and push your front against her. “Fuck,” Natasha moans, feeling your rock-hard bulge against her panties. She tries to grind against it, tries to alleviate the growing tension, but you do nothing more than rut against her until she’s fucking soaking.
“I don’t think so,” you growl, hands going to her ass as you push her up against the wall. Your mouth latches on to whatever slivers of bare skin you can find, on her neck and her collarbone and her upper cleavage.
You suck hard on her porcelain skin, leaving marks like you could claim her. Like this wouldn’t be the last time. “Please,” Natasha begs, indescribably aroused, her panties completely soaked through. You had never been this unforgiving.”Need you, please.”
“Yeah, that wasn’t what you were saying just now, hmm?” You ask, harshly, slapping the side of her thigh just because you can. You pin her against the wall with your knees and your left hand, using the other to unbuckle your own pants. 
She tries to reach out to help you, but you slap her hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me,” you say coldly, and Natasha wants to cry but she knows she brought it upon herself.
It takes you more time on your own, but you get the job done and the sight of your cock, the one Natasha took the first day she met you, it makes her cunt grow a heartbeat and she’s a fucking mess against the wall.
“Now you need me so bad?” You taunt, rubbing the tip of it against the slit of her pussy. “Don’t have any more words to say?” God, she’s absolutely drenched, and you think you’re gonna die if you don’t go inside her in the next five seconds.
This was probably the worst way to communicate, but, fuck, the two of you were bad at talking and you couldn’t resist the divine goddess that was Natasha, no matter how badly she had hurt you.
You nearly cum the second you enter the Goddess. Her velvet walls cling tight to you, so warm, too fucking warm. Natasha’s babbling something you don’t understand, but you can’t wait any longer.
“Oh, fuck!” she moans, as you slide your cock into her wet cunt with ease.
Your bodies move together with every thrust, Natasha’s legs wrapped tight around your torso as you thrust into her against the door. It’s hard, and fast, and rough, and nothing tender like your Saturday mornings.
She clings to your back, head thrown back, moans and cries bouncing off the sides of the wall. The door is shaking, like it might crack from the sheer weight of your thrusts into her.
You grunt at the inconvenience of that prospect, instead opting to walk the two of you back to a desk in the corner. Natasha gasps, whimpering into your neck as you walk across the floor with your cock still deep inside her pussy. It’s too sensitive, so sensitive everywhere.
You bend her over the desk, pulling away then lining yourself up again. 
You’re about to make her beg, before the irrational, carnal side of your mind takes over, and you’re pounding into her pretty little cunt mercilessly. Grunting and groaning as lodge your cock in deeper with each harder thrust, as her moans delve into a symphonic crescendo of screams of your name.
She’s thrashing around, so warm and so wet and so overstimulated all over, but you don’t let up for a moment. You only grip her thighs harder and make her hear how wet she is, before Natasha’s eyes are rolling into the back of her head and there’s drool at the sides of her mouth.
“Pretty slut,” you grunt, pulling out to slap at her puffy clit before she’s squirting, white cream going all over the mattress. “Daddy,” Natasha moans pornographically, visibly shuddering at your degradation. She might like it, a little too much.
The title that had fallen from her lips elicits a groan of acknowledgement out of you, but simultaneously brings back the bittersweet flashbacks of your time spent with her.
This was the last time.
After she’s come down from her high and you’ve hit your climax, you spread her legs and lean down to get a good taste.
"Oh! Daddy - ungh - please," she begs, as your tongue meets her overstimulated cunt. Natasha hadn't even recovered from her previous orgasm, still bent over the desk and panting like she was in heat.
You lap greedily at her wet cunt from behind, and the sheer novelty of how many times you’ve done this truly hits you. How many hours you’ve spent exploring Natasha’s body. How many days you’ve spent worshipping.
All for it to succumb to this.
It’s only after another few orgasms that the weight of ‘the last time’ hits you. Both of you have ended up on the floor, completely naked, heaving heavily to regain oxygen.
“I loved you,” you whisper, hovering above Natasha, and the use of the past tense makes chips away at Natasha’s heart. It’s only then does she realise that there are tears on her cheeks, because you’re crying.
“You deserve someone better,” is the only thing the Goddess says, a ghost of her whisper on your lips. 
“You've ruined me for anyone else,” you say, face devoid of the passion there once was. “You loved me so tenderly I won't be able to have another, had such good sex I can't sleep with anyone else.”
Natasha doesn’t respond to that. She can’t respond to that. There were too many unsaid words, broken promises, a future yet to be.
Both of you look up at the pink-blue sky, bare backs on an astronomy tower, bound by love and unbound by timelines and galaxies. It was brokenly beautiful, undeniably so. 
You only wish everything could’ve been different.
You wake up the next day in an unfamiliar bedroom. The room was far too small, the walls were too grey, the air was too cold, and fuck.
No, no, no, fuck. This was not happening.
Realisation slams into your exhausted body like a two-hundred kilogram sledgehammer, and you're winded by the weight of the impact.
This wasn't Natasha's home. This wasn't her fancy palace. 
This wasn't the Goddess' universe.
Air crushes your lungs. Your heart pounds in your chest.
This was your bedroom. This was your universe. The one you had spent all your days in, before you met the love of your life. 
At least, who you so stupidly believed to be the love of your life.
You get up with a start, the ache in your bones forgotten with the sheer emotions coursing through your veins, terror and disbelief and anger.
Your mind swims as you grab at anything you can, overturning furniture and messing up papers to find anything, anything, that could explain why this had happened.
Deep inside your chest, you had already known. Even if you managed to fool yourself. Even if you’d dreamt up a whole future of your life with her.
With a shuddering breath, your eyes fall to an envelope on your bedside table. You open it with trembling hands, almost fearful of what lay beyond.
In the envelope, contained a signed check with so many zeroes you could live luxuriously for the rest of days. 
In the envelope, contained a note with five fated words and the name of the one that got away.
All you're left with is a broken promise, an agonized cry, and the ghost of what could've been. 
To every universe and back,
N.R.
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series m.list | main m.list | AO3
4.5k words my eyes are not okay i've been staring my screen and typing for two hours straight, look what i'm going thru for yall
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