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birdantlers · 8 months

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A heartfelt and grievously expanded-upon update to this—please, please read the whole thing if you can. reblogs much appreciated.

(DISCLAIMER, for all who are saying reasons like abusive parents/legal stuff/toxic ex/triggering memories/page got deleted/job/stalkers/bullying/[[insert any other shitty life thing]], This is not concerning that—personal safety & health ALWAYS comes first, and is worth more than any media ever could be. This is my biggest reason for defending that autonomy. I would be a hypocrite to say I hadn’t deleted triggering posts of mine or ones that got me in trouble with my family.)

it genuinely makes me sad and kinda upset when someone purges all their old art off the internet like. barring harmful content what if someone liked that. What if someone would have. And now nobody will ever know and it's just gone. even people's old invader zim askblogs or whatever getting deleted feels like a micro alexandria to me and that's just something I made up. I wasn't even thinking of a specific one it just stresses me out. Is this the autism I don't get why nobody else seems to freak internally abt it like I do. I see artists whose blogs I've never even looked at go like "man so glad I deleted all my old stuff it's so clean" or saying they throw out art from when they were kids I'm like. how are you not hurling. How is that not distressing that is literally your tree rings why would you do that. I want to see what's out there. people want to see it I promise someone out there likes it

...don't they??? Does everyone get quietly irrationally upset by this as me, or is this just hyperfixation/autism/some amalgam of the two. I'm not a hoarder or obsessive compulsive or anything like that so i wonder..

Anyways. reblog if you had a favorite amateur youtube animator in your childhood whose channel got nuked without a trace one day that you still think about.

I wanted to attach this video because it condenses my point very well. A TLDR of sorts. Please watch the whole thing, it genuinely changed the entire way I think about art as a concept.

(2nd vid is "Subjectivity in Art")

“The moment your art touches an audience, the ownership shifts in an irreversible way. [They're] not having an art experience with you and your intentions. They're having an art experience with the art object.

“You can't just burn your past; it's not even your past to burn anymore. It's other people's history as well. Whether or not you like it, that art is already bonded to somebody's soul, and if you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it.”

The digital age makes it very easy to distance or detach yourself from the impact your work has—be it art, fanfic, videos, even memes. Online content is as important to people now as any other media, if not more. But it's also by far the easiest, fastest, and most effective form of it to erase from public access. Media so unbelievably important to people and in general. Yes, you—with the 2010s purple sparkle dog speedpaint. I still think about that speedpaint all the time, because it was the first time i learned that you could draw on a computer, and I thought it was cool as hell. I still do.

I do wish there was a stronger culture of preservation and consideration for this, because every time I see people talk about snuffing their stuff because it doesn't personally resonate with them anymore, I just think ...what about all the people it did?

I've seen lots of people saying "get over it, it doesn't even matter," but it fucking does. It does matter. Even if I didn’t make it, even if I don’t have to deal with being the one who made it, even if I'm naturally inclined to be distressed by it—It still matters. And there’s nothing you could ever say to suddenly make it not matter, because there’s nothing you could ever say to make it not matter to me.

Don't devalue the act of creation. Don't dismiss something you made. It's out there, in people's thoughts and hearts and souls, and that is real. Even if you don't know it. Especially if you don't know it. Especially in a world where physical media is being snuffed out, the internet is constantly dying without any physical remains to recover, social isolation is rampant, and simply because independently produced content online is still media.

Fanfiction can hold equal or greater significance to someone as a book, but you can’t unpublish a book. Authors don’t have a button that can vaporize every copy of their work across all time, but fanfiction authors do. I’m not counting people who download fics either—when you buy a book, that transaction is over. But online, you have the power of unending transaction that can be terminated instantly at your will. The process of publishing fanfic vs. publishing a book may be different, but people’s connection to the art is the same intensity.

So yeah. I do get depressed about the Internet being a constant Alexandria, but the times I get the most depressed is when I click someone's page and see that all their work is gone because they're ‘curating a new aesthetic’ for their page or some shit. Or weeding out all the "ugly" art. Or just went on whatever the hell 'thrill deleting' is, because they just get a kick out of it.

Fuck it—yeah! It upsets me! I’m not wrong to say that. I’m saying it!

Under the cut, because it got long as shit! Also don’t worry the ending is way sappier and more ‘beauty of human nature’ vibe so it’s not all doom and gloom lol

What if that was someone's favorite art of that character. What if someone read that 'cringe oneshot' on the worst day of their life. What if that Warriors meme vid is still burned into a college student’s mind despite being gone for 10 years. What if it's actually not just you and the ones and zeros you rent out to the world—secure in knowing the original will always be on your computer for you to do whatever you want with it.

I really, deeply wish there was more of a general awareness of this, because even though social media can be used like a diary, that’s functionally the opposite of what it is. It’s social media. When you post, it’s no longer in a vacuum, even though you can’t see the real humans that content touches—often deeply.

Media is history. You shouldn’t burn that history just because you personally believe it isn’t worth saving.

Because it’s no longer just your personal opinion. It’s no longer just your personal work. it’s. history. Memory of media is not a suitable replacement for the media itself. If it was, we wouldn’t save anything at all. Nostalgia is an agent of that. The definition of nostalgia is grief for moments of the past that are inaccessible, and the biggest balm for that pain is accessing a physical reminder of those moments. That opinion of yours is no longer personal. It’s weighed against uncountable people across all time that your thing is ALSO personal to. People who would, and will mourn its absence.

How many times have you joined an older fandom only to discover that some of its most popular works are gone? How many times have you routed through random blogs looking for scraps people hopefully reblogged? how many times have you used Wayback machine desperately praying that a fan fiction or a YouTube video will be there? How many times do you look up crunchy old vines or YouTube videos or anime AMV‘s? How many times do you remember old fanfic.net sex that impacted you in middle school, only to shake your head and go ‘probably no point even looking.’

i mourn the absence. No, people can’t and shouldn’t have their agency over what they post revoked, but they should be conscious of that weight. If you’re reading this and getting extremely annoyed, and you’re not in the pink text above,,,, good.

I honestly do hope it gets under your skin. I hope it sits with you. I hope you feel it every time you hit that button, and whether or not you do hit that button—if you hesitate, if you remember this, even spitefully, I’ve done my job. I am howling into the void. And I may not want an answer, but I do want my anguish to be heard and remembered. Because it isn’t me just being melodramatic.

I know I sound that way writing so much, but if my favorite writing YouTuber can drop trow this week and go, "yeah, sorry, all my video essays from less than a year ago that you listen to in the car all the time? I'm "rebranding" my content so i deleted them. besides, my personal views don't really agree align with the analyses i did, or the techniques i taught in them anyway. Sorry if some of the literal tens of thousands of you used them, but I don't want to feel shackled to having youtuber "classics" tied to me”

….then i guess I'm just going to have to sound dramatic! That fucking sucks! Hours of work and knowledge gone! This was a new channel too. It’s very likely there’s no archive of any kind, because who would think someone who worked hard enough to write, record, and edit hour-long videos, would just turn around and nuke it all? I definitely didn’t see it coming, but I did just start a new screenwriting class a few weeks ago, so I’ll tell you at least one person is REALLY missing those fucking videos right now. Because a lot of them were about specifically screenwriting, which I know jack shit about. and that specific person’s pace, editing, and style of breaking down information was the best suited style I found that I could focus on and absorb. There’s no replacement for that. No alternative for his individual perspective. his jokes. his opinions.

No, they may not resonate with him now, but in this decision, he’s put up a big middle finger to everyone who might have. And he has like 100k subscribers! Those are confirmed supporters! Imagine how many silent and untethered observers are feeling this loss right now. Imagine how many will not have it in the future.

If he never posted them at all, we wouldn’t know we had it. It wouldn’t be a loss. But we did. We did have it. Until he decided that no, we didn’t, because he just happens to be the one out of millions of individuals holding the button to burn it in a hundredth of a second.

His personal work, the attachment I had to it, and the ways that it helped me are now just ripped away. I am one person out of millions, literal MILLIONS of people who saw and liked this content before it vanished. The soul has been ripped, the access severed, and by CJ’s (and my) definition, the art is functionally dead. Not for the YouTuber or anyone else lucky enough to save a link or download, but everyone else. From this point until the end of time, even if people even two weeks from now don’t know it. Even if someone who stumbles upon his channel today, doesn’t know it.

We only mourn the concept of Alexandria because we had some kind of scope for what was inside. Yes, maybe you got self-conscious and deleted your 12 year old deviant art account. Do you know who else is doing that?? THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS of other twenty somethings who ALSO feel self-conscious about their old socials. Art. Fanfic. One direction fan videos. anything.

Suddenly, an unquantifiable amount of information from your age group—an entire age group in 2012, is. gone. And we will NEVER know what’s been erased from that history. We will NEVER know what could have been significant to us ten years from now. Twenty years from now. A hundred years. A thousand.

You could have deleted a fanfic that would have been someone else’s new go-to panic attack distraction tomorrow. You could have deleted a video someone used to laugh at with their friend who died yesterday. When you delete something, you risk tearing a hole in unknowable personal histories.

The Internet isn’t just a big library of Alexandria. It’s a library containing libraries. And those libraries have their own libraries in those libraries have their own as well. libraries inside libraries, inside libraries, ad infinitum. To conceive the amount of destroyed history on the Internet is crushing.

And I just can’t help but I ask myself how in gods name people can choose to contribute to that, instead of reposting everything to trash heap alts titled “hall of shame” or some shit.

You can offload to alts. Put up disclaimers. Make password locked blogs, or dropboxes, or anonymous imgur dumps. Anonymous reuploads. Orphan fics. Make a playlist or linktree of unlisted videos. Cut off the watermarks. Delete all references to it on your main. Make a dedicated unlisted playlist. make a google drive. Make new portfolio sites. Delete any questions you get about it. Change pen names. Pretend it never existed.

Give a heads up.

Something.

But don’t. kill. the media.

The knowledge that our stuff is going to forever be tied to us is a cross we have to bear, but the responsibility that comes with putting it out there in the first place, can’t be ignored.

Anyway. I'm not trying to start conflict. This is not a bash on anyone, nor a call for witch hunts. Or anon hate, or blocks and unfollows or anything of that nature. I'm not wishing ramifications or hate of any kind on anyone who does wants to do any of this.

I'm also not guilt tripping— I am not saying that you should feel bad. I AM saying why it makes me feel bad. That’s not guilting, it’s a dialogue. One I personally feel is long overdue.

It's me yelling into the void: please consider the real people on the other side of the screen before you hit that button. Realize and know that whatever you're about to erase from history could be the most important thing in the world to someone.

Art is an experience. It's why we revisit it. If art and history simply lived in the matter and code of media, we would only need to look at it once. We wouldn’t put things in museums. We wouldn’t build libraries. We wouldn’t look up vine compilations.

If you're able, consider (and I do mean consider, this is not a call to action) not destroying that. And don’t shrug it off as some pretentious asshole venting on Tumblr. You only need to look in the notes and tags to see that it isn’t just me. it’s never just me, or you, or the pixels.

And even if you do shrug it off, then at least recognize that what you make matters. Whatever you think about it, if it’s out there, that's not your discretion anymore. If a tree falls in the woods and even one person is around to see it, it fucking mattered. Because it happened. Don’t mulch your tree rings if you don’t have to. Because if enough people do it, a whole forest is gone. Media is history, no matter whether you think it’s worth putting in a museum, or only has 30 notes.

Thousands of years ago, a child named onfim doodled on his homework. They’re crude, and everyone has the wrong amount of fingers, and they’re also priceless archaeological artifacts recognizable throughout the world.

the only thing separating Onfim’s doodles and your MS paint Pokémon doodles is time. The only thing separating your old MS paint Pokémon doodles from being a priceless artifacts, thousands of years in the future is time. Your creations are already priceless artifacts. No matter what you do, don't ever, ever deny that. It isn’t blowing up your own ass, it’s artistic and anthropological fact.

The mundane and the supposedly unworthy are often the first things lost to time, and that’s why they’re so precious. That’s why artists who were before their time are scorned first only to be celebrated later. Do you think they knew that was going to happen?? What if they nuked it? Many probably did! But now that’s happening exponentially and instantaneously everywhere, WITHOUT the artist having to destroy their only copy—which makes it way easier and more dismissable.

Sometimes, If you’re revolutionary enough, people will make an effort to preserve your work, but recognized and thoroughly recorded work is rare compared to unrecognized and thoroughly recorded work.

Sometimes something is beloved enough that it would be impossible for it not to go down in history, but even then it isnt a guarantee, and it’s rare. But if van Gogh burned all of his paintings in a fit of despair before his death, we would have no van Gogh. Because he wasn’t respected as an artist in his time, but that wasn’t what defined the worth of his art. The people after him did, because his art was still there for them.

If you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it. If you belittle your art, you belittle the very real relationships and emotions and revisitations people have with the media. You defy the inherent worth and weight of a creation. you created. That's effort. It's passion. No matter how flippant or unskilled or worthless you think it is, it matters. Because at the end of the day, you could have chosen to make nothing at all, and you didn't.

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Muting notifs

#artists on tumblr #Artistic #digital art #art history #anthropology #humanity #art discussion #art theory #skit yells

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megamindsecretlair · 6 months

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Have Mercy

A/N: Based on this ask. It contained porno links. Whoever you are, ya nasty and I love you. This is a bit of a deviation so I'm sorry if it wasn't what you pictured! Thank you for the support!

Pairing: Pornstar!Tyrone x Black!Shy!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FILTH for nearly 5k words! PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (fem receiving), cum play, possession kink, size kink, dirty talk, degradation/praise kink, Daddy kink, orgasm denial, overstimulation, all consensual. Use of n-word. Disrespectful Tyrone. Drug use. Established friendship.

Summary: After a very steamy porn video by Tyrone, you can't help your curious questions as you hang out and discuss his work. You'd been too shy to ask before, but you're dying to know what it's like in person.

Word Count: 5,284k

A/N: I was just waiting on the right spark to answer this ask. And...look, you all know how fuckin' feral I am for Tyrone. It's not a surprise. I promise 5k words is worth it. This was so fuckin' hot to write. I hope you enjoy it! Please, please, consider leaving a comment or reblogging to help support writers. I can't get better with no feedback!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @notapradagurl7 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings

“Okay, but like…they just kind of sit there and…” You stopped talking and started jerking your hand. You looked across the hazy space towards Tyrone. He was laying across the bed and looked at you down the blunt he held to his mouth. The orange-red spark glinted and then dimmed as he pulled it out. He licked his lips and then blew out the smoke.

“Shit, ion know. I do this shit myself,” Tyrone said.

Tyrone passed the blunt and you grabbed it, bringing it to your lips and inhaling. You turned your head towards the ceiling, your eyes expanding. “So, you got a camera and microphones and shit?” You asked.

“Yeah,” Tyrone said and took the blunt from you. “Got to these days. If I’ma be rocking somebody’s shit, then everybody gon’ see it.” He brought the blunt to his lips and pulled on it.

You tried to picture it. Your head was so blessedly silent for once. You actually formed a thought and kept it. Tyrone on the bed, naked. Showing off ropes and ropes of thick muscle. Arms strong enough to break coconuts. Thighs begging to be ridden.

Your core heated up, a small tingle working up the back of your thighs. You bet he was the type to hold on and get to work. But you smirked at him and started to giggle.

“You always talk that shit, Ty,” you said. Your giggles kept going, making your stomach hurt. You flattened your hand on your stomach. “Don’t make me laugh! My tummy hurt!”

Tyrone stared at your high ass and smirked. Fuck. It took forever to make him laugh. Like the mu’fucka was born with ice down his throat. You longed to hear that rare, raspy laugh.

“I talk big ‘cuz my dick big,” he said and huffed out a chuckle. It was barely enough to call it a laugh.

The mention of his dick had you clenching your thighs. You’ve memorized the way Tyrone walked. He walked like he was swangin’ dick down there. Also, you’d never in a million years tell him, but you’ve seen his videos.

You had second hand evidence that he was packin’. You have came plenty of times just to the sound of his voice on those videos. He rarely fucked the same girl twice. They were all different women; all Black women, and all thick Black women.

You weren’t a snob. Sometimes you’d watch the woman getting their back blown out and wish it were you. But his voice. You were knee deep in his comments and he was gaining popularity just from his voice alone.

You giggled again. “Where do you even find these women? You being safe?” You asked. You knew perfectly well that he fucked without a condom. Hell, you’d let him cum in you too.

“I get checked every month and only fuck bitches that’s clean. Some hit me up. Some I find in the wild,” he said.

He puffed on the blunt after you handed it back. Your body wasn’t floating but it felt like it. There was an all around hum on your body.

“The wild? Like…damn, you just find women willing to have sex on camera and release it?” You never had enough courage to ask these questions before. But after last night’s video, you wanted to know. Your burning curiosity finally won out and started asking about it.

“You’d be surprised how many mu’fuckas wanna watch themselves. Some don’t wanna be seen. That’s fine. Hide they face and whatever. But the real nasty ones don’t cum unless the camera in they face,” he said. He released a cloud of smoke to join the rest.

You thought of being one of those women. Showing your face on camera for millions to gawk at. Cum to. You’d never in a million years…but the thought wasn’t terrible. There would be evidence that Tyrone fucked you and he’d control it. He could do anything with it.

“Do you rehearse and shit? Like do you know what you’re gonna say before?” You asked.

“Hell naw,” he said and huffed again.

He comes up with those filthy things on the spot? You bit your lip. Maybe…having sex with Tyrone wouldn’t be good. He’s a different breed. In a class all on his own. Sure, the videos could have told you that. But hearing it from the source? You weren’t so sure you wanted to find out what he was like.

“You real curious tonight,” he said. The orange light from the blunt casted soft shadows over his face.

You shrugged. “We ain’t talkin’ bout shit else,” you said.

“You forget I know yo ass? You real curious,” he said. He looked at you skeptically. You looked right in his eyes. You were not going to give him an inch. You had years worth of experience pretending to not be in love with him. That every video wasn’t like a stab in the heart.

He was making good money though and you weren’t gonna fuck with someone’s bag. So you kept your mouth shut. Pretended that you were just his friend. Just a friend.

The bed shifted and Tyrone leaned closer to you. His eyes searched your face. He leaned in closer than he has ever been to you. His nose lightly grazed yours, making it both tingly and itchy.

You swallowed hard and you knew you made a sound. Tyrone huffed, the breath fanning across your face.

“You trynna find out?” He asked.

“Naw nigga,” you said. You didn’t know where this boldness came from. But your heart thundered in fear that he would learn your secret. You’d kept it so close to your heart for so long. It was like its own tiny dagger always piercing your heart. But sometimes removing it hurts you worse than keeping it in. If you opened your big mouth, you’d ruin this. This time spent together.

Tyrone kissed your cheek. His lips lingering against your cheek as he spoke. “Every time I mention gettin’ down, you tell me I’m lyin’. So let me prove myself,” he said.

You giggled, the weed making him glow. You stared across his regal looks. You bet he was a king in a previous life.

You wriggled on the bed and took a deep breath. Stay strong. Stay strong. “You actin’ crazy, Ty. Not every girl wanna be yo bitch,” you said. You sounded weak to your own ears.

“Mhm, I think you the one lyin’. I think you been cravin’ this dick,” he said. He pecked your cheek and traveled down. His lips kissed a trail of fire down to your neck.

“What you say that for?” You asked.

“You wanna know what it’s like to be fucked by me, don’t you?” He asked. He kissed up to your ear and laughed. “I know what desire look like. I eat that shit for breakfast,” he said.

His words made your mouth drop open. Words of denial rushed to your lips. But your mouth turned dry. The fuckin’ weed speeding along your anxiety at being exposed.

“You trippin’, man,” you said. You shook your head, but he kept up the pressure on your neck. Practically making out. Little swipes of his tongue made you bite back a groan. Your panties were so damp, they were sticking to you. You ran the palms of your hands up and down your thighs.

“You talk big game. You aint tell me to stop yet neither,” he said.

Fuck. True. But how could you? He hadn’t even done anything to you yet and you were ready to burst. You just made yourself cum this morning, thinking of the video last night. He had looked delicious pounding someone into the bed. How you wanted it to be you.

Your words died in your throat. What could you say? He was seducing yo ass. Did you really want that to stop?

“Fine then, nigga. Break my back,” you said. You looked him in the eyes with the challenge in your eyes. He looked up at you and grinned. Yo momma ain’t raise no bitch. You got nervous sometimes but that’s okay. It’s okay to be nervous. Do shit anyway.

The words sounded nice, but you were terrified of the look in Tyrone’s eyes. That was not the look of someone who was going to be sweet and loving in bed. Tyrone the Pornstar was here.

He got off of the bed and moved the ashtray off of the bed and onto the nightstand. The sound of the glass was like a gunshot. You flinched and watched his every move. He stood up to his full height and stared at you.

The look in his eyes was not friendly. It was predatory. You were an unknowing baby bunny and he was a starving wolf. He reached out with his hands and ran them up and down your bare thighs. You gasped and flinched away from him.

“When was the last time you been fucked?” He asked.

You’ve taken your fair share of guys to your bed. Some were even good. None ever came close to Tyrone. Each time you came, it was to the sound or memory of Tyrone’s voice.

“Been a while,” you said.

He nodded his head. He reached for the zipper of your shorts and you let him unzip it. He didn’t pull your shorts down all the way. He opened your zipper as far as it would go and then pulled down the front just enough to see your panties.

You were hoping to disrobe in a quick rush. You weren’t exactly prepared for sex tonight. You wore one of your boring and safe panties. It didn’t bother Tyrone. He stared at it, like he’d just unwrapped a present.

“Talkin’ all that shit. Why yo panties wet then?” He asked.

You looked away briefly. “Thinkin of this guy at my job I got a crush on,” you said.

Tyrone dug his fingers into your panties and you cried out. “Every time you lie to me, that’s another orgasm,” he said. “I’m already thinkin’ of..four, maybe. I can keep goin’,” he said. His deep voice made you shiver.

His fingers were right there. Your stupid panties were in the way. You felt the pressure but not his beautiful, strong hands. “I’m not lyin’,” you said.

He dug his fingers in more and you jerked from the strong wave of desire. It was like you drank static.

“A’ight that’s five. And I want you to count ‘em out too,” he said.

“Wait, I’m sorry,” you said. You never had your limits tested, but you were pretty sure you’d die after the third one. If he went for five, you weren’t going to survive. There were too many things you wanted to accomplish before you left this earth.

“That sorry shit don’t work on me,” he said and grinned. “Now be a good little bitch and tell me you want this dick. And you want me to film it,” he said.

A breath stuttered out of you. He was even better in person. “Don’t show my face,” you said. You borrowed boldness for tonight. If you survived to tomorrow, then that’s when you’d freak out. For now, you wanted the entire Tyrone experience.

“Naw, this my personal stash. I wanna see that sexy ass face,” he said. He leaned over you and ran his thumb outside of your panties. You were leaking at the edges and his thumb glided so close to where you needed him.

“Personal stash?” Maybe if you kept him talking, he’d give you a reprieve. You just needed a moment to think. To find a way out of five orgasms.

“The ones I watch to get myself hard. The ones I cum to, thinkin’ of it when I’m balls deep in pussy online,” he said.

Oh shit. “But–” your dry throat ached. It paled in comparison to the ache in your tummy. That deep, hidden place that few men actually hit.

Tyrone slipped his thumb under your panties and crested the very outer area of your clit. You gasped and twitched, your legs couldn’t open wider because your shorts weren’t all the way off. He looked into your eyes.

He licked your open mouth. “See, the game to porn? Focus on the woman. Always,” he said.

He increased his strokes until you were a shaking mess. You didn’t know you could make those types of sounds. But all of the tiny grunts and yips, turned to moans as you came from his finger circling your clit. He didn’t even touch it directly.

He pulled his finger away and watched you jerk and twitch until you calmed down. He licked his thumb, made a surprised sound, and stood up. Your eyes tracked him as he stepped back and took off his black T-shirt. His jeans went next, his briefs tenting with his erection.

He stroked himself over his briefs and looked at you with his head crooked to the side. “Fuck, you’re sexy,” he rasped. He moved to the side of his room and there was the sound of devices getting moved around. You laid on the bed, your eyes back to the ceiling.

This was really happening. You fought the urge to pinch yourself as Tyrone set up the camera. It had a retractable viewer and he flipped it around to the bed. You saw yourself lying there, staring at the camera.

Your pussy clenched at the thought. Tyrone had always been a man of his word. If this was his personal stash, he was the only one that would see you getting fucked. You wanted it so desperately, you leaned up on your elbows and started to remove your shorts.

“I say you can move yet?” He asked.

You panted at his aggressive tone and shook your head, not trusting your voice. “Lay yo ass back down,” he said. You followed his command, laying back on the bed. Your body was floating this time. You felt every nerve in your body twitch up and await what Tyrone had in store.

Tyrone puffed on the blunt as he finished setting up the camera. A moment later, he brought the camera closer and pointed it at your face. You blushed so hard that your cheeks burned from it. You knew they would be hot to the touch.

“Smile for Daddy,” he said.

You giggled and swiped at the camera. “Fuck you,” you said.

Tyrone chuckled a little louder this time. He moved the camera down your body. “Take off the shirt first, nice and slow,” he said.

You sat up and looked at him. Focus on him. That’s all you had to do. You’d make this the best damn video he can’t release. You took off your shirt, exposing your mismatched bra. That came next, slowly sliding it off your arms. You threw it at him and he caught it with one hand.

He smirked from behind the camera and dropped your bra. He commanded that you stand up and take off your shorts. He told you to turn around and slightly bend over as you took off your panties. You stepped out of it and he groaned.

“Fuck, look at that pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he said.

You clenched and then clenched again knowing that he was picking it up on the camera. “Crawl on the bed, get on your back,” he said.

You did as he told you. You climbed onto the bed and exaggerated yourself crawling to the top of his bed. You flipped over, dropping onto your back. “Get comfortable,” he told you.

You moved a few pillows over to cradle your head and back. You instantly felt better. You closed your eyes with a smile. Your knees were pressed together, still feeling that lingering shyness.

Tyrone tapped your knees. “Open them up for me,” he said. Tyrone had the viewfinder half flipped between you. He had it focused on your knees. You hid your face behind your hands and shook your head.

“C’mon, do what I say,” he said.

You groaned but opened your legs. You threw your arm over your eyes, not wanting to see his reaction. “Open them pretty eyes and look at me,” he said. His tone, more than anything, made you open your eyes and stare at him. Tyrone was not the gentle type online. He barked and commanded and did nearly unspeaking things to women. Soft wasn’t in his vocabulary.

“You know how sexy you are?” He asked.

“Of course I do,” you said. Your sexiness didn’t depend on no man. Not even Tyrone. You knew you were fine as hell. You ain’t pull niggas for nothin’. But you were still fuckin’ shy. Damn.

“Don’t hide it then,” he said. He climbed onto the bed and moved the camera beyond your head. You craned your neck to see him fix the viewfinder where he could see. There was a perfect angle of the length of your body, your legs spread open, and Tyrone hovering above you.

Tyrone then kissed you, rolling his tongue all over yours. You don’t know how long he spent kissing you. It was long enough to make you relax for half a second. When he felt your body go slack, he added his hands. He lowered himself to your body and rested on his elbows. His hands, he ran them all over your chest.

He massaged your breasts, rolling your nipple between his warm fingers. Each twist was just this side of painful. And you groaned. Your head flopped on the pillow as he nipped at your neck.

You brought your hands up to grip onto his back. Your nails lightly scratched him. He groaned. He kissed down your neck, moving onto the top of your titties. “Oh, shit,” you moaned as his lips latched onto your left nipple.

He sucked like he was mining for gold. He rolled his tongue over the budding peak. He ‘d stop and examine his handiwork, see if it was satisfactory, then return his attention to it. He licked a long strip down the center of your chest to your tummy.

He paid careful attention to each stretch mark, each tiny scar from you being clumsy, and every mole. His hands worked their way down too. Squeezing your sides. The upper, fleshy part of your thighs. He reached around and gripped your ass, squeezing the globes.

He continued downward, running his tongue through your pubic hair. He reached the very edge of your pussy and you squirmed away. A cold patch started inching its way under your ass. Your arousal was already flooding his bed.

He flattened his tongue against your pussy lips and you bucked off of the bed. “Oh fuck, Tyrone!” You yelled.

Your skin was itchy. You needed relief in the worst way. He chuckled and nosed his way through your folds. He swirled his tongue lazily around your clit.

“Did you know you taste good?” He murmured into your pussy. His lips caught your clit and part of your pussy lips. You made an unholy moan.

“Could eat this for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and still want some,” he said.

“Fuck,” you whined. Your pussy clenched thinking of a repeat with Tyrone. How else he could be so nasty.

The wetness of his tongue made you wetter. He began to increase the flicks of his tongue against your clit. “Oh shit, right there, right there,” you begged.

Tyrone backed away at the last second and you growled. He chuckled and kissed your clit. “You think just ‘cuz you want it, you s’posed to have it?” He asked.

“Please, please,” you said.

“Mhm, I knew yo lyin’ ass was gon’ regret what you said.”

“Or maybe I just wanna cum and I’ll say anything,” you said, goading him into proving you wrong. You’d gladly be wrong, many times over, if he kept eating you like that.

“Guess, we goin’ for six then. Start counting,” he said.��

“What?”

“And the first one ain’t count neither,” he said.

“That’s cheating!” You yelled.

He looked at you from between your legs. You had to sit up some to see his half lidded eyes. “I look like a nigga that play fair?”

Your chest rose and fell and you looked at him. You shook your head. “No, but–what can I do to bring that number down?” You asked.

“Not a mu’fuckin’ thing,” he said. He kept watching you as he descended on your pussy, running his lips up and down, licking up your arousal. He watched as he tried different things, trying to see what you reacted to most. When he did something you liked, he stopped and switched tactics.

You tried not responding, quieting your moans but then he’d bit the sensitive spot between your pussy and your leg. You’d jerk, complain about the pain, and say, “Don’t give a fuck.”

You were back to moaning uncontrollably. So out of your mind in bliss, that you barely noticed that he stuck a finger inside of you. He pumped you, his finger getting wetter on each slide. “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you chanted.

“Let Daddy hear you,” he said.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you continued. Each word ended on a shriek. Tyrone sucked and you came, with a loud moan. Your hands moved down your stomach, down your thighs, scratching underneath them. Your moves were jerky, flopping against the bed. You didn’t know what to do with your body as you came.

When you were done, air whooshed across your heated, sweat-slick skin. Tyrone licked up whatever was left over, making you twitch from your sensitive clit.

Tyrone kissed up one side of your thighs. He slapped your pussy, making you cry out. “One!”

He then pushed your legs back, your thighs grazing the bedsheets. “This where I want ‘em. Keep ‘em there,” he said.

How the hell was he still in so much control? You were a ruined mess. You couldn’t survive any more.

Tyrone had other plans. He trailed his fingers around your clit and you moaned. “I can’t,” you said.

“Aw, you wanna tap out?” He asked.

You nodded. Your eyes were closed. You weren’t strong enough for another orgasm.

“Still don’t give a fuck,” he said. He leaned up and over you. His thighs pushed at yours, folding you. He leaned on his fist, his muscles bunching and contracting. A vein started near his elbow and ran down towards his hand. You longed to lick it, but his arm wasn’t close enough.

You resorted to rubbing his arm. He brought his other hand to cup your pussy. Then a finger disappeared inside you. “Oh shit!” You said and jerked.

He added a second finger and you twitched. Your moans were turning painful. Robbing the breath from your lungs. You’d gasp for any little molecule of air. And then seize up once more as his fingers pumped in and out of you. “Mhmm,” Tyrone said.

“Nasty little bitch, ain’t you.” He added a third finger.

“Ty, Ty,” you croaked out.

“What? You need four?” He asked. He added a fourth finger and you rounded your eyes at him. As he pumped it into you, he turned his hand. Two fingers slipped out. The first two, he continued to pound into you. Then he crooked his fingers in a come hither motion and you exploded.

Your back lifted off of the bed as your orgasm steam rolled you. Your legs shook like mini earthquakes, each wave cascading through you like aftershocks. You reached for his chest, needed to feel something solid under your hands. He slapped your hand away and tilted his head at you.

He grabbed your nipple and pulled and you shrieked. “Fuck,” you said. He arched his brow at you. “Two,” you said.

You came down with tears gathering in your eyes. You sniffled as you shivered. Tyrone rubbed your arms, smirking at you.

“Shit, may not need the camera. I’m gon’ remember this shit,” he said.

You completely forgot about the camera. It turned you on that those orgasms were recorded. That he’d watch them again and again.

He kissed your tummy, bringing your attention back. He kissed and suckled your skin. You watched it disappear into his mouth. You groaned when he started to hurt. He moved on to more patches of skin, kissing the underswell of your right titty. He caressed your hips and massaged your ass as he kissed his way to your neck.

He bit your shoulder and then licked your neck. He placed kisses on your jaw and then kissed you. He licked the swell of your bottom lip.

Your body relaxed into the feel of his lips on you. The weed still did its thing. Every kiss was its own inferno. Burning your skin and leaving no end in sight.

Tyrone returned his attention to your neck, kissing along your ear. He licked the shell of your ear and lined up at your entrance. You didn’t even notice that he took off his briefs.

He slid in and you groaned. You brought your hand up to push at his chest. He stroked and coated his long dick with your juices. He moaned at the feeling of you. He threw his head back and you saw his neck swallowing. Tiny huffs escaped him.

“Goddamn, this pussy feels as good as it tastes,” he moaned. You clenched at his dirty words and he moaned again.

“Wanna get fucked like a good little bitch?” He asked.

“Yes! Yes, Daddy, please,” you begged, nodding your head.

His strokes were long, languorous. His hands pinned your upper arms to the bed. “What happened to all that shit you was talkin’?”

He wanted you to speak? Speak when he had his third leg half inside of you? He wasn’t even fully seated yet.

“Talk that shit now with dick in you,” he said.

You opened your mouth, ready to say something. But then he slammed all the way home, hitting your G-spot and making you cum instantly. You shook on his dick, eyes rolling into the back of your head. Your toes curled. The orgasm took all coherent thought.

After, you sniffed as tears ran down your cheeks. Tyrone’s dick twitched, his eyes locked on your face.

“Can get a nigga used to this. You cum so pretty,” he said.

“Fuck, Tyrone. Please,” you whispered. He only smirked at you. He slapped his hand against your cheek. “Three,” you said with a cry.

He moved his hand down your throat and squeezed.

“Oh fuck,” you whispered. Tears fell in rivulets down your cheeks. You were past the point of feeling good in the afterglow of your orgasms.

He kept up his slow strokes, making you feel every large vein sliding against your slick inner walls. “Put them legs where I want ‘em,” he commanded.

You lifted your aching thighs, putting your hands under to hold them open for him. “Please, Daddy.”

“Please what? Ask nicely,” he said.

He slowed down even more, almost to a torturous crawl. He wiggled his hips and his dick hit all the corners of your pussy.

“Please, no more,” you said.

“You know what to say to get me to stop,” he said. He wiggled his hips for emphasis. You whined and jerked on the bed.

You didn’t want to punk out. But you truly couldn’t take another one. Still, one built up anyway. Tyrone chuckled at you, condescension poured out of him in waves.

“You know I’m cummin’ in this shit right?” He groaned. He threw his head back and his hips twitched.

You pictured him filling you up like a twinkie and your pussy clenched. “Like that? Want me to nut in you?”

He squeezed your neck one last time. He moved his hand to your lower tummy and pushed down. You felt his dick from the other side, felt how deep he was inside of you. The tip of his dick kissed your G-spot. He kissed you, soft and nasty. “Talk yo shit then. Can’t talk with dick inside you?”

Tears gave everything a watery haze. It streamed down your face. Tyrone licked up your tears and moaned low to your ear. “Gimme that nut then,” he said.

On command, another orgasm rushed through you. Spots danced behind your eyelids. You squeezed your eyes shut. “Show me them pretty eyes,” he said.

He smirked as you locked eyes with him. He angled his hips and your jaw dropped open. “Mhmm, I know. I know,” he said.

As you were calming down, you muttered, “Four.”

Tyrone slipped out of you and you drew your first real breath in what felt like hours. He leaned down between your legs, his mouth suckling on your clit.

“Oh shit, oh fuck, oh fuck, Tyrone, Daddy. Please,” you moaned.

“Open them fuckin’ legs,” he growled. You opened them wider, both your arms and legs were tired now. He brought his mouth back onto you and sucked roughly, dragging another orgasm out of you. Your eyes were permanently glued to the back of your head. Pleasure coursed through you, making your legs shake of their volition. Your soul left your body, your feet cramped. Sound exited your right ear and you felt this one in your eyes.

You squirted and Tyrone leaned back. “Mhmm,” he encouraged. “Nasty fuckin’ bitch,” he said. He licked up your sopping mess. You continued to squirt, the pleasure still so intense. He leaned back and watched you cum, watched you squirt.

“F-f-five,” you shook. Your teeth clattered and knocked against each other.

“Look at you, bein’ a good little bitch,” he said. “You made Daddy wait for his nut though.” His voice turned sinister.

He leaned up and slapped his dick against your clit. The wet slap turned you feral, and you cried for more. You begged for more.

“Fill me up, Daddy,” you cried. Your fingers tore at your body. You wanted more even though you were ready to tap out. Ready to give it up.

Tyrone chuckled as he slammed back in. “Oh fuck,” you cried and collapsed your legs.

“Uh-uh, open them fuckin’ legs. Keep that shit open,” he said.

You cried, tears long since dried up. He bottomed out and then rubbed your clit with his thumb. “Oh fuck,” you moaned.

“I know,” he said.

He slid in and out, stroking deep. Deep enough to make you see stars. “Oh, fuck, Daddy,” your voice was high-pitched. “Fuck me, Daddy, fuck me,” you chanted.

“Im finna nut,” he moaned. “I’m finna nut, I’m finna nut.” Hearing his moans was like the spark you needed. You came again, gushing and soaking his dick. He threw his head back and unloaded inside of you.

He kept going, kept fucking his cum into you. Hot splashes coated your pussy. You felt every pulse and twitch of his dick inside you. He emptied his balls into you and you moaned and scratched at his back.

He slowed his deep strokes, stilling inside of you.

“Good fuckin’ bitch,” he said. He slipped out of you, his cum leaking out behind him. He panted, his sweaty chest rising and falling almost painfully.

“Oh,” you cooed and moaned. Your legs flopped onto the bed, instant relief from keeping them up so long. “Six,” you whispered. Your voice was hoarse.

Tyrone kissed you. He breathed in your ear. “You ever have any more questions, you come let me know.”

You were already gone to the world as he said whatever it was that he said. If you woke up in the morning, it’d be a miracle.

&&&

You okay? Need more? The Secret Tyrone Files

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lizzaneia-elizalde · 6 months

Note

Hi I was thinking what about yan!mafia boss who kidnaps and baby traps(no need for smut scene) reader and how life would be for reader while pregnant

Yandere! Ex-patient! Mafia Boss x AFAB! Nurse!Reader

Hmm baby trapping.

Well I can say for sure y'all like the pregnant fics LMAO

I hope you don't mind me putting more details to yandere! This is like the much more twisted version of a greek myth story, so be warned!

Also, Rowan cameo? (Since Rowan is also a mafia boss)

Yandere! Mafia boss name: Hades

"Sir! Rowan's men are closing in!"

Hades clenched his teeth and looked at his right hand man. He was injured and not able to use his left arm right now.

"Fuck. Do we really need to retreat?" Hades pondered, clutching the empty Thompson in his hands and not minding his broken leg.

"Sir, please, let's just retreat!"

Hades bit his tongue and messed up his hair in frustration before opening up the intercom. "Retreat! Get out of there and retreat!"

It was hard extracting his men from that warehouse lot. But in the end, they were left with only 75% of the number of men that went to this mission, much to Hades' disappointment.

Hades.

He doesn't have a surname, nor a family.

All he has is his mafia and his men.

He remembered when he desperately clawed at the feet of the old mafia boss, asking him to take him in.

He remembers the rigorous training he had to go through in order to be accepted inside their famiglia, and just to be recognized by his boss.

After years of being the underdog, he won a do or die tournament inside the famiglia. And he became the new boss once the old one retired.

As somebody who didn't have anything, he knew how hard it is to have nothing at all. Nothing to eat, nothing to sleep on, nothing to drink.

So he made sure to claw as much as he can to his territory.

He is relentless in his pursuit. With his cold eyes and violent tendencies, it's no wonder his wealth and circle expanded exponentially.

His temper always flare up whenever he saw something he wants.

Envious even.

Filled with envy, he would stop at nothing to get what he wants.

He's temperamental, vicious, cold, and jealous.

He's always jealous. Envious.

He wants everything.

So, when he saw the opportunity to extend his territory once more with the Silas famiglia's territory, he had to.

But it landed him in the hospital.

It was a close fight, but in the end, Rowan won due to an error with Hades' group.

Hades sighed and brushed back his hair to his scalp, not even flinching when the nurse accidentally bumped into his broken leg.

"I-i'm so sorry sir! Forgive me!" The nurse panicked, their breathing fast and short.

Hades frowned, his eyes glowering in anger as he stared daggers at the nurse.

The nurse gulped and ran away, scared for their life.

Hades leaned back to the pristine, luxury hospital bed. The ache in his leg didn't faze him as he looked outside of the window, annoyed at the lost oppurtunity.

For now, he's going to let the Silas' go.

The door opened and in came a new nurse, you.

"Hello sir. I'm your new nurse! My name is y/n." You said, gently holding the clipboard in your hand. Your light blue scrub was clean and spotless.

"Hmph." Hades mused. "Did the crybaby ran to you and tattled on me? Telling i'm a big bad man?" He cooed, like talking to a child.

But rather than getting angry or scared, you only laughed and shook your head.

"You could say that." You told him straightforward, and this amused Hades.

"Well, whatever. Just do your best to take care of me." Hades said before he allowed you to come close to him.

You were an amazing nurse.

Nothing short of caring, you made sure to attend to Hades to the best you can do.

It was like you were a family member, taking care of him with such tenderness that even touched Hades.

Your hands, like the work of an angel, had the touch of a skilled healer and caregiver as you even tended to the most mundane tasks that he could do, like eat.

He didn't mind though. The pretty nurse was taking care of him. Who is he to refuse?

At first, he thought you were only after his money, which understandably made him upset. But you never crossed the line to flirt with him. You acted like an old friend, bantering and joking with him.

He liked this. You were not tense around him. You're not intimidated by the man in front of you, only annoyed whenever he refused to do something you needed him to do.

You both become friends, and Hades always looked forward to your care.

Just pure, adulterated caring hands of a mother-like figure.

Mother, huh?

If you took care of Hades like this, how would you take care of your own children?

He innocently pondered. Imagining you pregnant, he daydreamed of you give birth and having children.

But he flinched, suddenly feeling his body hot.

Seeing you pregnant aroused him.

No, seeing you get pregnant due to him aroused him to no end.

It was just supposed to be an innocent thought. Since he wanted to imagine what would it be like for you to have a family of your own and taking care of them.

But he imagined that the husband is him, the children are his, and you are his wife.

He imagined you moaning under him, clutching his back and screaming his name as he blew his load into you, pumping you full.

He imagined you with a round belly, filled with his baby or two, waddling around his mansion as he took care of your every need.

God.

He licked his teeth, suddenly, suddenly liking the prospect of you with him.

Ever since then, he saw you in a different light.

He had to have you.

Hades moved his leg and smiled.

It doesn't hurt anymore, and he knew it was fully healed.

"Thanks for this, doll." Hades said, his husky deep voice breaking the silence inside the hospital room. His sharp, dark eyes bored into your giddy form that was clapping for him.

"That's great then!" You grinned, looking at the clipboard and nodding. "You're good for discharge then! Can't believe you abused your stay here in the hospital until your broken leg actually healed."

Hades howled in laughter, feeling light.

"Hey, I had to. It's much more peaceful here." He lazily grinned. "And, I had my pretty little doll take care of me. That's two birds in one stone."

You flushed pink and gave a small chuckle.

"Haha. So funny." You rolled your eyes.

"What can I say? I'm a clown." Hades joked "Honk honk." He squeezed his nose, pretending it's the red, squeezy clown nose that clowns have.

"The whole circus, you mean." You teased.

The both of you got quiet once more as you helped his men who just got inside the room to move Hades' things out.

He watched you interact with his men and frowned, jealousy bubbling inside of him. And his eyes narrowed when he saw one brush his hand with yours.

In his eyes, it wasn't an accident, it was a deliberate act of flirting with you.

"Okay, I got to report to your physician first. Be right back!" You said, waving to Hades before jogging out.

"Oi, you."

All of his men stopped, heart rate suddenly picking up as Hades pointed at the man who brushed his hands with yours.

"Yes sir?" The man approached him and Hades immediately grabbed his hand, twisting it.

The man was about to scream in agony but only got to whimper in pain when Hades bore holes in him.

"Those hands you touched? I am the only one who's able to do that." Hades seethed, jealousy and envy bubbling inside of him again, threatening to boil over. "So don't you dare do that again."

He let go of the man as he nodded, scrambling away from him. His other men only bowed and continued to do their work.

They knew not to touch the boss' future wife, as what Hades told them.

But they don't know the scope of 'touch', and it seems that even accidental touches aren't out of the question.

They were glad that their boss found a woman to be his partner, and was happy that the boss seemed like he found something to be happy with.

Especially with how hard his life was before, he needed somebody who will love him unconditionally.

But they forgot that Hades was the epitome of envy and jealousy.

They prayed for your soul. May it be to escape Hades' clutches, or for you to tolerate his behavior and his overly possessive nature.

But, six months later, their hair stood on their ends when they saw you inside the boss' mansion, confined, and kidnapped. You had a defeated look on your face as you glared at their boss, who only smirked.

You were kidnapped by Hades.

six months before the kidnapping

Hades visited you in the hospital, bringing a bouquet of flowers in hand. It was an assortment of different floras, most of them of your favorite flower that you mused to him one day.

He sighed, suddenly feeling nervous. It was the first time he felt like this, but he shook his head and clicked his tongue before walking inside.

His long legs strode towards your floor. The other hospital personnel, who once cowered in fear, looked at him curiously and started to gush amongst themselves.

They knew who he was here for.

And once he got to the 4th floor, he saw you, working on your computer.

"Hey little doll." He drawled out, smirking as you looked up to him.

"Hades! How are you?!" You excitedly jumped up, eyes sparkling. Hades felt warm inside, knowing you were smiling like that because of him.

"Oh, you know. Doing the same. Your care is spectacular. I got healed in such a short time. You're an angel, you know that?" Hades winked and you giggled.

"Oh shut you. What are you here for?" You asked.

You gasped, seeing the bouquet of flowers in his hand.

"Grant me the pleasure of being with you, doll?" Hades said, his voice low and quiet, but his resolve was strong.

You grinned and accepted the bouquet, smelling the amazing aroma and smiling.

"Of course!"

At first, dating Hades was fun.

He spoiled you rotten. Giving you jewelry, clothing, food... Anything you looked at, he would buy.

He was a gentleman. A clear and distinct difference from how he's always been.

It was supposed to be a fairytale love story. Well, as much as a fairytale it is being with a mafia boss.

But he was so possessive and overly jealous.

"Why are you looking at him?"

"You don't have male patients, right? No, scratch that. Even women can see how amazing you are."

"Why did he talk to you? Is he asking you out?"

"What did she say? Did she flirt with you?"

"I'll rip their skulls out if you even try to glance their direction."

You groaned, annoyed by his jealousy. You tried to reassure him, that nothing was wrong, that he was the only one for you, but he won't listen.

He was draining to be with. He's always watching other people like a hawk, threatening them if they tried to interact with you, then getting so manipulative with you.

And while you made sweet, sweet love with him one night, with your body filled with his marks and bites, you knew you had to let go of the man.

You can't even work in the hospital right because of his jealousy.

So you have to.

But when you woke up, were kidnapped by him.

"What the fuck?! Hades!" You screamed, looking at the windows. It was grilled. The doors, all unlocked except for the exits.

Nobody was allowed inside the mansion, only you and Hades were residing there.

Hades smirked, looking at you pacing around the mansion. His eyes, dark, obsessed, and possessive, swept your form up and down.

"Doll, you're in the right place." Hades stalked towards you. His long legs, which you once helped heal, was now transporting your twisted boyfriend in front of you. "You think I don't know you want to leave me?"

You seethed, eyes boring betrayal and hatred.

"Why did you kidnap me?"

Hades smirked.

"Like I said, I know you want to leave me. And I can't have that." Hades licked his lips and gently clutched your hips. His thumbs, dangerously close to your core. You shivered, your body responding to his touch. "I did well training your body to like my touch." Hades mused.

You looked away, defiant arousal filling you inside as his hips fit with yours.

You could feel his excitement prodding at your stomach.

"I know you want me, doll." He whispered, leaning down to your ear and licking it. "Doesn't this feel forbidden? If you really hated me, hated my touch, and want to go out, you should have ran away from me. But hey, look at this. You're letting me touch you."

He chuckled darkly as he saw your red face.

"Come on doll." He whispered, kissing your neck. "They said hate sex feels phenomenal. Want to try it?"

Accepting it was the dumbest decision of your life.

He pumped you full, not even bothering to put protection.

And you, swept away by his divine touch, didn't care also.

You only regret this decision once you got pregnant.

Hades gave a triumphant, evil lopsided grin as he called his men to introduce you.

His men's eyes widened in fear at him.

Nobody can even get inside his mansion, let alone his men.

But now, he's openly letting people go inside his mansion. They knew you were inside the mansion, kidnapped. But why is he letting them go inside now?

Hades scoffed and shielded your form from the inquisitive eyes of his men, jealousy filling him.

"Welcome my fiancée, everyone. Treat her well, will you? She's pregnant with my child."

They all froze, before they felt like they were showered with cold ice water.

Baby trapped.

You were baby trapped.

That's why Hades opened the doors to them.

You can't leave no matter what.

And as Hades smirked at your glaring form, they prayed once more.

You're never going out of his clutches.

You were now forever confined in Hades' world.

His Persephone.

#yandere boyfriend #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere writing #male yandere x reader #tw yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere drabbles #lizzaneiaelizalde

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 6 months

Text

the wall between us

kinktober, day sixteen

a/n: ...yeah, this one is weird, but also kinda wild

summary: pov, you live in a cult where there is an impregnation ritual on your 18th birthday

warnings: steve harrington x reader, smut, cult au (they are both members), cult leader!jim hopper, weird birthday impregnation ritual, public sex, fem gloryhole, breed kink, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, forbidden romance

word count: 773

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

“Always a blessed day when a flower blooms and becomes ready to expand on our wonderful family,” you heard Jim, your charismatic and adorn leader boast from the other side of the thin wooden wall, “now, gentlemen, let us bow our heads and pray, please, grant me the power to deduce who will bless this girl with a babe….” after a moment of dead silence, Hopper broke it with a loud, “ah! I can see it!” the others in the audience rumbled as he finally revealed, “it is you!”

“Me, sire?” a voice in the crowd cut through, sounding completely taken aback.

“Yes, you bear the seed she needs, my child,” his proclamation prompted the other members to cheer loudly as you heard footsteps near.

Laying on your back, legs resting up against the wall, you felt a gust of wind kiss your bottom that stuck out of the meticulous cut-out, indicating that a person had stepped up.

“Hi,” he greeted in a hushed tone, the crowd still bustling from behind him.

“Hello,” your fingers apprehensively fiddled with the fabric of your white dress, crumbled and gathered at your waist.

“Uh, happy birthday.”

“Oh,” you blinked a second, surprised by his demeanour, “thank you.”

“Can I ask you something?” his low voice was clear, though his touch hadn’t found you yet.

“Sure.”

“Are you nervous?”

“A little, yeah,” you gnawed at your bottom lip, “I’ve just waited for this for a very long time… are you?”

“I know I shouldn’t be, but he’s just never picked me before, so…” he admitted, staying quiet a moment before checking, “is it alright if I begin?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” you rushed to say, adrenalin pumping through your veins. You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt his touch ghost over your skin, just your hip, the exposed part of you that was the furthest away from your core. Your fingers tightened their grip on your dress as his gentle touch slowly fluttered closer to your presented pussy, “is it strange that I wish I could see you?”

“Not at all,” he nearly chuckled, “I feel the same way,” his broad thumb came up to brush over your glistening folds, his touch staying ever so light as he tickled your clit.

Just then, you heard a heavy pair of boots come near, “come on, son,” you heard Jim whisper into the man’s ear, “you haven’t got all day,” a threatening aura laced his tone, “complete the ritual,” a callused hand suddenly crept over your skin, “look,” and without warning, a finger plunged into you causing you to gasp, “she’s practically begging for you to pump her full,” momentarily curving his digit, he tickled a spot inside of you that made you shiver, “don’t make me pick somebody else,” though his controlling touch then faltered, parting ways by swiftly landing a sharp slap across your bottom, a hushed yelp bubbling from your lips.

“I’m sorry, sire,” the man quickly apologised, hastily rushing to bury himself in you.

Turning his attention back towards the crowd, Jim then roared, “and the ceremony has officially begun!” boisterous cheers promptly erupted, “soon we will be blessed with more abundance!”

Keeping his voice low, you heard the man whisper as he bucked into you, “I’m sorry, I really wanted to do this differently, take our time…”

“It’s alright,” you breathed, “it’s how it's done…” your whole body rocked with each of his efforts to fulfil his duty. Planting your palm on the wood parting you two, where you presumed his visage was, you couldn’t help but imagine what he looked like… exactly the way his hips snapped into you… had his hair fluttered down to obscure his vision? Was he looking at you and you alone? Because if he looked anything like how he sounded or how he felt, then you couldn’t even begin to comprehend what that could mean, but what you did know was that it enticed you in a way you’d never felt before, “…maybe one day we’ll meet again and there won’t be a wall between us. Will you show me then how you had wished to do it?”

With a low and strangled moan, you felt him twitch inside of you and his movements quickly slow as he filled you up.

“What’s your name?” he asked breathlessly.

“Y/n,” you felt your heart flutter as you stared at the wall, “and yours?”

“Steve,” he whispered, his touch warm as his fingers fluttered over your goosebump-ridden flesh, “I’ll find you, Y/n. I don’t know how, I don’t know when, but I promise I won’t stop till I do.”

#lea’s writing #kinktober 2023 #steve harrington smut #jim hopper smut #stranger things smut #steve harrington x reader #dark!jim hopper #stranger things imagine #dark!steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #cult leader!jim hopper #cult member!steve harrington

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apollosgiftofprophecy · 7 months

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Statistics of Apollo's Lovers

I was wondering just how unfortunate of a love-life our boy Apollo had, so - as one does - I did the research, math, and writing of said love-life.

such is the life of an adhd teen :)

In total, there are 59 people on this list. I have them separated into eight groups; Immortal, Immortal & Rejected, Lived, Died, Rejected & Died, Rejected & Cursed, Rejected & Lived, and who were Rejected by Apollo

Disclaimer: I am not a historian nor an expert in Greek Mythology, I am just a very invested nerd in Mythology, and in Apollo's mythology in general, and got curious about what his rap sheet actually looks like.

Sidenote: There will be some "lovers" not on this list. Reasons being;

No actual literary sources behind them

Said literary sources are dubious at best

Not enough information is given about the nature of their relationship to make an accurate take

So if somebody isn't on this list, it's because of one of those three reasons. Although there is still a chance I missed somebody! :)

Also, no RRverse lovers include in this list. Sorry my fellow ToA fans.

(Edited 12/22/23 - Currently adding in sources/references)

Let's begin! :D

Immortal Lovers

Calliope: muse of epic poetry. Mother of Hymenaios by Apollo.

Clio: muse of history

Erato: muse of love poetry

Euterpe: muse of music

Polyhymnia: muse of hymns/sacred poetry

Melpomene: muse of tragedy

Thalia: muse of comedy. Mother of the Corybantes by Apollo.

Terpsichore: muse of dance

Urania: muse of astronomy

Boreas: the North Wind. yes Apollo apparently dated the North Wind. Who knew? It's mentioned in the Argonautica by the Boreads - they call Apollo "beloved of their father" so...hmm. wonder what happened there because that's all we get.

10 lovers total here.

9 Female, 1 Male

Immortal & Rejected

Hestia: goddess of the Hearth

1 Interest. Female.

Lovers Who Lived:

Branchus: mortal shepherd, gifted prophecy

Rhoeo: mortal princess, eventually married an apprentice of Apollo

Ourea: demigod daughter of Poseidon, dated Apollo during his punishment with Laomedon; had a son named after the city of Troy

Evadne: nymph daughter of Poseidon, Apollo sent Eileithyia & (in some texts) the Fates to aid in their son's birth

Thero: great-granddaughter of Heracles, described as "beautiful as moonbeams"

Cyrene: mortal princess-turned-nymph queen, kick-ass lion wrangler, and mother of two of Apollo's sons - Aristaeus (a god) and Idmon (powerful seer)

Admetus: mortal king, took great care of Apollo during his second punishment, Apollo wingmanned him for Alcestis's hand - basically Apollo doted on him <3

Hecuba: queen of Troy, together they had Troilus.

It was foretold that if Troilus lived to adulthood, Troy wouldn't fall - unfortunately, Achilles murdered Troilus in Apollo's temple. When the Achaeans burned Troy down, Apollo rescued Hecuba and brought her to safety in Lycia.

Hyrie/Thyrie: mortal. mothered a son by Apollo. Their son, Cycnus, attempted to kill himself after some shenanigans and his mother attempted the same. Apollo turned them into swans to save their lives.

Dryope: mortal. had a son named Amphissus with Apollo, who was a snake at the time. Later turned into a lotus flower, but it had nothing to do with Apollo so she's still on this list.

Creusa: mortal queen. had a son named Ion with Apollo. Please check out @my-name-is-apollo's post for more details because they make some good points about what's considered "rape" in Ancient Greece.

Melia: Oceanid nymph. Had a son w/h Apollo named Tenerus. will expand on them in a bit

Iapis: a favorite lover. Apollo wanted to teach him prophecy, the lyre, ect. but Iapis just wanted to heal :) so Apollo taught him healing :)

Aethusa: daughter of Poseidon & the Pleiad Alcyone. Mother of Linus and Eleuther. She is the great-great grandmother of Orpheus.

Acacallis: daughter of King Minos. there's a lot of variation on whether or not she had kids with Hermes or Apollo. Some say she had a kid with each.

Chrysothemis: nymph queen who won the oldest contest of the Pythian Games - the singing of a hymn to Apollo. She had three daughters, and one of them is said to be Apollo's.

Corycia: naiad. had a son with Apollo. the Corycian Cave north of Delphi is named after her

Leuconoe (also Choine or Philonis): daughter of Eosphorus, god of the planet Venus, and mother of the bard Philammon.

Melaena (also Thyia or Kelaino): mother of Delphos, member of prophetic Thriae of Delphi. Priestess of Dionysus.

Othreis: mothered Phager by Apollo, and later Meliteus by Zeus.

Stilbe: mother of Lapithus and Aineus by Apollo.

Syllis (possible same as Hyllis, granddaughter of Heracles): mothered Zeuxippus by Apollo.

Amphissa: Apollo seduced her in the form of a shepherd. They had a son named Agreus.

Aria (or Deione): had a son named Miletus. Hid him in some smilax. Her father found him and named him.

Arsinoe: she and Apollo had a daughter named Eriopis.

Queen of Orkhomenos (no name is given): Mother of Trophonius (my fellow ToA fans will recognize that name haha).

Hypermnestra: Either Apollo or her husband fathered her son Amphiaraus. (sidenote: @literallyjusttoa suggested that Apollo was dating both Hypermnestra and Oikles, and I, personally, accept that headcannon)

Manto: Daughter of Tiresias. Apollo made her a priestess of Delphi. They had a son named Mopsus. When Apollo sent her to found an oracle elsewhere, he told her to marry the first man she saw outside of Delphi. That man turned out to be Rhacius, who brought her to Claros, where she founded the oracle of Apollo Clarios. Later, another man named Lampus attempted to assult her, but was killed by Apollo. She is also said to be a priestess who warned Niobe not to insult Leto, and to ask for forgiveness. Niobe did not.

Parthenope: granddaughter of a river god. Mothered Lycomedes by Apollo

Phthia: prophetess. called "beloved of Apollo". Mother three kings by him; Dorus, Laodocus, & Polypoetes

Procleia: Mother of Tenes, son of Apollo, who was killed by Achilles before the Trojan War. Daughter of King Laomedon, king of Troy.

Helenus: prince of Troy. Received from Apollo an ivory bow which he used to wound Achilles in the hand.

Hippolytus of Sicyon: called "beloved of Apollo" in Plutarch Life of Numa. I don't think this guy is the same as the Hippolytus, son of Zeuxippus (son of Apollo), king of Sicyon Pausanias talks about in his Description of Greece. That would be a little weird taking the whole family tree into account - though it's never stopped Zeus before, I guess.

Psamathe: nereid, said to be the personification of the sand of the sea-shore. There are two versions of her myths, both very different, but I'll only explain the one that explicitly states her and Apollo's relationship, which is by Conon's Narrationes. She and Apollo were lovers, but never had any kids. When another man assaulted her, she had a son and abandoned him. (He was found by some shepherds dw - wait, he was then torn apart by dogs. Nevermind.). Back to her, her father ordered for her to be executed and Apollo avenged her death by sending a plague onto Argos and refused to stop it until Psamathe and Linus (her son) were properly given honors.

(I really like how even though Linus isn't Apollo's kid, and that Psamathe wanted nothing to do with the kid, Apollo still considered him worth avenging too <3 )

(also would like to say that I found her on another's wiki page and that page said she was raped by Apollo - this just proves that you shouldn't take the wiki at face value because as shown above, that is not what happened.)

Alright. 34 lovers here.

5 Male. 29 Female.

33 are 100% consensual. Creusa is questionable, depending on who's translating.

The last one is Melia, who I will expand upon here.

Melia was said to be kidnapped, and her brother found her with Apollo. He set fire to Apollo's temple in an effort to get her back, but was killed. Melia and Apollo had two kids - but here's the interesting part. Melia was highly worshiped in Thebes, where her brother found her. She was an incredibly important figure in Thebes, especially when connected with Apollo. She and Apollo were essentially the parents of Thebes.

As I read over their story, it sounded like (to me, at least. it's okay if you think otherwise!) that Melia just absconded/eloped with Apollo.

Was kidnapping an equivalent to assault back then? Perhaps. But it's still debated on whenever or not that's true. However, one thing I've noticed reading up on these myths is that when Apollo does do something unsavory, the text says so.

It never says anything about Apollo doing anything to Melia. Her father and brother believe she was kidnapped, but, like mentioned previously, it seems far much more likely that she just ran off with her boyfriend or something.

But that's just my interpretation.

Moving on! :)

Lovers Who Died:

Hyacinthus*: mortal prince. we all know this one, right? Right? one and only true love turned into flower

Cyparissus: mortal. his DEER DIED and he asked Apollo to let him MOURN FOREVER so he was turned into a cypress tree

Coronis: mortal princess. cheated on Apollo w/h another guy. mother of Asclepius. killed by Artemis.

Adonis: yes, THAT Adonis. he's in this category because. well. he died. rip

Phorbas: at first I was going to keep him off, till I went "hOLD UP!". Listen, this guy's story is contradictory in Hyginus's De Astronomica - he's a rival of Apollo, then all of a sudden his (dead) lover. My first reaction was the above, then it was "OH MY GODS CANON ENEMIES TO LOVERS??? WITH DEATH???"

There's also a second account of Phorbas - he ended a plague on an island and became Apollo's lover that way, and when he died, Zeus turned him into a constellation - Ophiuchus.

(*In some texts, Hyacinthus was resurrected.)

6 lovers.

5 Male. 1 Female. All consensual.

Sidenote: QUIT BURYING THE GAYS GREECE!!!!

Love-Interests Who Rejected & Died:

Daphne: do i nEED to say anything? Nymph. turned into tree to escape.

Castalia*: Nymph. turned into spring to escape.

2 Interests. 1 debatable reliability.

2 Female.

(*Castalia's myth was written in 400 AD, VERY late in the myth cycle, and was strictly ROMAN. In every other case, the Castalian spring was already at Delphi before Apollo was born.)

Love-Interests Who Rejected & Cursed

Cassandra: mortal princess. Promised to date Apollo if she was given gift of prophecy. when he did, she rejected him and he cursed her to never be believed for her visions.

1 Interests.

1 Female.

Lover-Interests Who Rejected & Lived

Sinope: mortal. got Apollo to promise her anything; requested to remain a virgin. he obliged.

Marpessa: mortal princess, granddaughter of Ares. Idas, son of Poseidon, kidnapped her and Apollo caught up to them. Zeus had Marpessa chose between them, and she chose Idas, reasoning that she would eventually grow old and Apollo would tire of her.

Bolina: mortal. Apollo approached her and she flung herself off a cliff. He turned her into a nymph to save her life. Nothing happened between them, although some texts may say that she eventually dated him.

Ocroe/Okyrrhoe: nymph and daughter of a river god. asked a boatman to take her home after Apollo approached her. Apollo ended up turning the boat to stone and the seafarer into a fish.

Sibyl of Cumean: mortal seer. promised to date Apollo if she was given longevity as long as the amount of sand in her hand. he did, but she refused him.

5 Interests. All female.

Okyrrhoe's story is the only one with any iffy stuff, although, like stated in previous sections, when something iffy does occur, the text usually says so outright.

Rejected by Apollo:

Clytie*: Oceanid nymph. turned into a heliotrope to gaze at the sun forever after the rejection.

1 Advance. Female.

(*Clytie's story was originally about her affection for Helios. When Apollo got conflated with him, her story also changed.)

In Conclusion...

59 people total (includes Castalia & Clytie)

48 Women (81%). 11 Men (19%).

19% were Immortal (Including Lovers & Rejected)

66% Lived (Including Lovers & Rejected)

14% Died (Including Lovers & Rejected)

1% were Cursed

2% were Rejected by him

57 people total (Not including Castalia & Clytie)

46 Women (82%). 11 Men (18%).

18% were Immortal

68% Lived (Lovers & Rejected)

12% Died (Lovers & Rejected)

in that 12%, one was apotheosized - Hyacinthus.

Meaning 10% died permanently, while 2% were resurrected.

2% were Cursed

0% were Rejected by him

Additionally, I left off three male lovers and two female lovers - Atymnius, Leucates, Cinyras, Hecate, & Acantha.

Atymnius has no references to being Apollo's lover, only to Zeus's son Sarpedon.

Leucates is another male "lover" left off the rack - apparently he jumped off a cliff to avoid Apollo, but I couldn't find any mythological text to account for it. There is a cliff named similarly to him where Aphrodite went (by Apollo's advice) to rid herself of her longing for Adonis after his death. Also Zeus uses it to rid himself of his love for Hera before he cheats on her again.

Cinyras was a priest of Aphrodite on the island of Cyprus. He was also the island's king. Pindar calls him "beloved of Apollo" in his Pythian Ode. However, looking further into Cinyras's life throws a bit of a wrench into it. He's also cited to be a challenger to Apollo's skill, and either Apollo or Mars (Ares) kills him for his hubris.

(honestly, I kinda like the idea that Mars went into Big Brother Mode)

I did consider leaving him on the list, since technically you could argue it was a romance-gone-bad, but among every other source Cinyras is mentioned in, Pindar's the only one who puts a romantic label on him and Apollo.

Hecate, the goddess of magic and crossroads, is said to be the mother of Scylla (like, the sea-monster) by Apollo, but Scylla's parentage is one of those "no specific parents" ones, so I left her off the list.

Acantha has absolutely no classical references. There's a plant like her name, but she's a made-up myth, so she doesn't count.

(Of course, I could be wrong about any of these. Again, I'm not an expert.)

With all this in mind, this means Apollo's love life actually isn't as tragic as media portrays it, and he isn't as bad as Zeus or Poseidon in the nonconsensual area.

Does he still have those kinds of myths? Possibly, depending on which translation you decide to use for Creusa in Ion.

Even so, when you compare Apollo to basically every other Greek figure?

He's doing pretty damn good.

#ramblings of an oracle #greek mythology analysis #apollo #greek myths #greek gods #greek myth #ancient greece #still gonna tag this as toa #just because #;)#the trials of apollo #toa #trials of apollo

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thesecretsofthedivine · 2 months

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Pick a Pile Reading | Details About Your Future Spouse ⚖️💝

Business Carrd 🍶🧺

Paid Services 🍇⭐️

Tip Jar 🍾🎱

*Disclaimer: This is a collective reading — take what resonates and leave the rest. If this resonates with you, please show support by reposting (with credit), tipping, or booking with me! :)

*Exchanges with other intuitives/readers are available via dm’s

PILE 1 COLLECTIVE

[ old money ] [ athlete/athletic build ] [ family-oriented, especially with their mother ] [ fluffy, curly hair ] [ brown hair ] [ looks good in/often wears the color blue ] [ will enjoy making pinky promises or playing with your hands ] [ tall for their gender ] [ mediterranean or european background, possible greek or british ] [ charming ] [ talkative ] [ golden retriever ] [ PDA ] [ almost always wears sneakers/tennis shoes ] [ gets along well with your friends & feminine energies ] [ conventionally attractive ] [ notting hill movie ] [ spontaneous first meets, maybe during a trip abroad/after moving to a new place ] [ gemini, sagittarius, capricorn, leo placements ] [ is very knowledgeable about culture, wines, fine dining, etiquette, etc. ] [ woodsy scents/would love to drink alcohol by a fireplace somewhere cozy, especially scotch or something old school ]

PILE 2 COLLECTIVE

[ enjoys orchestra/classical/instrumental music ] [ creatively gifted, especially in singing or photography ] [ likes to stay organized/clean ] [ gift giving as a love language ] [ nicknames that make you feel like royalty, “princess/prince” or “god/goddess” ] [ playful teasing ] [ fire sign, scorpio, aquarius, libra, cancer placements ] [ enjoys writing & keeping a journal ] [ homebody but somebody with status/notoriety & success ] [ using you as their muse on social media/in careers ] [ dyed hair for people attracted to feminines, especially pink ] [ manic pixie dream girl complex ] [ “you’re different than the rest” ] [ opposite aesthetic as you ] [ the great gatsby movie, especially jay & daisy’s attraction ] [ an old soul ] [ cynical and reserved humor ] [ light hair for people attracted to masculines, especially dirty/honey blonde ] [ somebody that i used to know — gotye ] [ a person you share a past/past life with ] [ the letters a, e, r, t, i, l, and n ]

PILE 3 COLLECTIVE

[ spiritually gifted/self-aware ] [ 9h, 12h, 1h, 3h, 5h placements or synastry ] [ optimistic ] [ teaches you how to connect to nature ] [ sent to you by your guides/ancestors ] [ in touch with their feminine side ] [ empress in tarot energy ] [ roots for the underdog ] [ enjoys investments & humanitarian work ] [ well-spoken ] [ amicable ] [ compatible political affiliations, but they may expand your understanding of the world ] [ wears jewelry ] [ would love to get matching tattoos or wear matching clothes with you ] [ manifestation/spell work is a factor in this romance/one of their hobbies ] [ wants to build a home out of you ] [ provider ] [ sensual ] [ connected to their inner child & may like to watch disney/nostalgic movies, especially frozen ] [ a huge cuddler ] [ winter birthday for some ]

PILE 4 COLLECTIVE

[ flexible or enjoys dancing ] [ aesthetic hands ] [ a lover of the arts ] [ soft or quiet voice ] [ socially anxious ] [ remembers the small details about you ] [ impresses your family/mother upon first meet ] [ has a cat or younger sibling for some ] [ lets you paint their nails or practice makeup on them ] [ short hair, may sometimes get perms or curling techniques ] [ thin frame ] [ infp/infj/intj/intp/etc type of personality ] [ indie or soft pop music lover, especially clairo ] [ soft kisses ] [ prone to blushing or avoiding eye contact ] [ pale skin ] [ talks about you to their best friends ] [ karaoke/comedy clubs ] [ graham crackers ] [ strong perfume, especially floral/rose ] [ height difference/size kink ]

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frracturedjaw · 1 year

Note

Good day/night, author!

I love the details you put in your writing, those tiny details make me foldd

I wanted to request something cause I love your writing, and I wanted to see how you'd write this prompt <3

Slashers with a fem! s/o who sends them suggestive pictures of themselves (referring to the s/o). Could be sliding polaroids under their door/ leaving polaroids for them to see, sending them virtually, etc etc.

Thank you! Have a wonderful day/night, and Happy Holidays!

warnings(s): 🍋, description of s.x acts, reference to female anatomy, blood (only with asa)

a/n: thank god, finally an excuse to be thirsty,, also tysm for the very kind words!! it means a lot to hear from yall :) some of these go further than others, so just drop an ask if you want any of them expanded on.

🔞i check the notes. minors don’t read & don’t interact.

thomas hewitt

* it’s risky business trying to get him the photos without somebody else getting to them first, so you stick them right in the pocket of his apron.

* almost the whole day goes by without so much as a glance from him. he doesn’t check his pockets until the day’s work is finished. but when he does…

* he almost shouts. it catches him entirely off guard. not that he hasn’t thought of you that way, but… taking stuff out of the bedroom is new to him. he’s checking over his shoulders even though nobody really comes into the basement but him.

* he likes it though. he’s a possessive guy. hoyt is always giving him shit, saying he’ll give you what Tommy’s too frigid to provide. this makes his chest thunder.

* you can tell he’s checked the pocket when he next enters the room. his eyes are dark from how huge his pupils have gotten.

* “like them?” you ask allusively, a grin tugging at your features. if you listen close, you can hear the click of the door locking before he’s upon you.

* despite his size, he works smoothly. you’ve reassured him enough by now that he’s confident around you. especially when you’ve shown him vulnerability like that, he can certainly return the favor.

* his shirt and belt go on the floor, and your fingers slide across his scalp when he lays forward between your legs.

* it’s become sort of a ritual for the both of you. he undresses both of you, but you get to take off the mask.

* even in the dimness of the room, you can imagine his blush easily. his cheeks are radiant with heat.

* although he’s usually all about taking his sweet time, this go around, he takes you like a starving man.

* he can’t even be bothered to take your clothes off all the way. two thick fingers, quickly dipped into his mouth, slip past your panties and right into your pussy. his other hand presses you down at the waist, steadying your body against his.

* his hand is large and calloused and scarred, but it works so deftly on your body. in any other case he’d feel guilty for being so greedy, but he needs you too badly right now.

* one heavy hand on your breast, he sucks dark, tender marks into your inner thigh while the pads of his fingers skim teasingly against that one spot that makes your legs go rigid.

* he does that until you’re half sobbing, chest bouncing with each choked breath. he doesn’t tease you like this often, either — he prefers indulging you — but the way you sound crying his name makes him hard as steel.

* “tommy… Tommy, please…” it’s only him that makes you breathy and rushed like this, and he knows it. he relishes in it.

* but he doesn’t keep you waiting forever, don’t worry.

brahms heelshire

* bold of you to assume he doesn’t already have a collection of pictures of you in his attic hideout.

* he might have shown you a few before, just to tease you. there’s a few of you getting dressed/undressed, one or two of you asleep without a top on, and a particularly blurry one that appears to be you with your hand between your legs…

* but he’s absolutely not complaining that you’re contributing. he’s overjoyed, in fact. he takes a particular interest in perverted stuff like this

* he doesn’t spend a ton of time up in the attic since you got together with him, but when he pops up to get something, he notices the addition almost immediately (living in one room for over a decade will do that to you).

* it’s taken in the master bathroom, one of the only rooms he doesn’t have much surveillance on. the tiled walls make it nearly impossible to poke a hole in without taking chunks out that get noticed and repaired immediately.

* he can see a big claw foot tub and a nice wide sink, and one wall with a floor length mirror nearly the size of a door.

* most importantly, is you. naked as dawn, with one leg stretched up on the mirror, and one hand between your legs, revealing your perfect cunt.

* of course, he pulls his dick out immediately. he doesn’t even bother shutting the door to the attic room. just drops to his knees and starts stroking.

* brahms is breathing hard under the mask, barely blinking as he gazes at your glistening pussy and slides one hand up and down his cock, thrusting into his fist.

* he’s loud, too. by the time he’s finished, no matter where you are in the manor, you definitely know. you can’t help but admit, you’re starting to get the appeal in listening to someone else moan your name.

* you’d better get up to the bedroom, though, since he’s ready for a round two with the real thing now.

billy lenz

* similar deal as above, he’s already got some of his own. his selection is much more lewd, though. he’s a little more dedicated to seeing your private moments than Brahms.

* and he’s definitely whipped them out for you, before, too, so you know where he keeps them.

* you’d set the camera on a timer and gotten to work with your favorite toy. in the end, you couldn’t bring yourself to choose a favorite, so you picked a few.

* the first is from behind, and shows the perfect ‘pretty stretch’ he always talks so much about.

* the next is up closer, two of your fingers stringing a trail of lube away from your pussy; you’re confident he’ll like this one.

* the last is of your face, and probably your favorite. tears are hanging from your eyelashes and glittering in the flash, the toy pressed firmly into your mouth. drool dribbles from the corner of your lips and slides deliciously down your chest. you’ve written ‘piggy’ and a heart on the edge of the photo in pink pen.

* the pictures stand out, piled in a neat stack on top of the messy stash in his drawer.

* (there’s also a suspiciously stained pair of your panties in the drawer. you’d been looking for them for ages. you take them back and drop them in the laundry.)

* and just like brahms, you know the moment he finds them. although, he doesn’t bother to even try taking care of his erection by himself. he goes right to you.

* “i’msofuckin’LOVEYOU, sweet-t-t pigGY! sosweetsogoodfor billy, billy l-lovesyouSOmuch, good-d girl, soOOO fuckin’goodforbilly—” his mouth is going a mile a minute up until you kiss him. he can’t help but giggle into it, hands all over you, grabbing, squeezing, pinching. he doesn’t even seem to notice that he’s grinding his dick against your hip.

* “—mh, please, pl-l-lease,” he breaks away from you, gripping your arms hard and blushing even harder.

* “use your words, billy.” you smirk, pressing against him. you can feel him throbbing.

* “nngh,” he whines, but does so anyways. “s-suckmeOFF! ple-ease, please…” he can hardly get the words out, he’s so excited. he throws his head back, giggling, only to smash his mouth against yours again.

* you have to pull his fly down and grip his dick hard to get him to pull away again. his speech devolves into mindless whining and giggling as you drop to your knees.

* he’s not awfully thick, but he is long. it takes a good minute of him thrusting into your throat and you jerking away from him, gagging, before you can get him all the way down.

* you know exactly which buttons to press — he doesn’t waste time making you guess.

* he likes it when you press your nose against his belly and swallow, feeling your throat constrict around him.

* he likes it when you maintain eye contact and flutter your eyelashes at him when he says something you like.

* he especially likes it when you drop your tits out and squeeze them. so much so, in fact, that he finishes down your throat without warning.

* it sends you coughing, but he holds you down until he’s finished, keening and chattering praise in your name.

* when you finally lean back, you’re a mess. you’re teary-eyed, chin and neck coated in slobber.

* he’s still twitching and pulsing even though he’s already gone soft.

* better clean up before he gets any more ideas…

billy loomis + stu macher

* they’ve both had wet dreams about this kind of thing. they’ve probably floated the idea to you once or twice and received coy-but-promising responses.

* they both have phones, but they’re both also suckers for physical media; see also their extensive vhs and disk collections.

* Billy finds them first, and immediately drags stu into the bedroom to look.

* stu’s giggling like a schoolgirl as if you didn’t take them yourself. he sobers up when billy points out that you’ve written their initials on your inner thighs in what seems to be sharpie.

* depending on if you’re home or not, they might just jerk off then and there. they’re impatient like that.

* if you are home, however, they slide up next to you on the couch with these shit-eating grins on their faces.

* “didn’t know you had a side gig doing mags.” billy teases.

* “now i can tell everyone i’m dating a pornstar.” stu snickers.

* “except tatum.” you remind him, which only makes him laugh more.

* “c’mon, sweet cheeks,” billy leans you over into stu’s lap, skimming his fingers under your shirt. “give us a private dance.”

asa emory

* the camera had been a gift from him. you can’t be sure if he bought it or stole it off a body, but you’re grateful nonetheless. (who knows what would happen if you weren’t)

* usually you only take photos of things around the hotel. his exhibits, interesting bugs you found crawling around, maybe a shot or two of the sky through a window. he always takes the pictures away. you’re confident he keeps them all somewhere. a small part of you hopes the somewhere is his home.

* at one point — after a particularly long night with your fingers inside yourself, wishing they were his — you decide to take photos of something else. the lighting is dismal and you don’t have anything terribly flattering to wear, but you make it work.

* you’re rather pleased with what you end up with. some five or so photos of you on your knees, eyes wide and doe-like, gazing up as if looking to a master.

* you decide to leave them out for him to find.

* when you next hear the door unbolt, your heart leaps into your chest. you hold statue-still as he locks it behind him, glances around the room, sees the photos. you see something in his expression change as he leafs through them. it’s impossible to read his expression with the mask on, but you’d like to imagine it’s admiration. maybe disgust. maybe want. maybe all of it.

* he sets the photos down where he found them and crosses the room towards you. he’s entirely unhurried. doubt writhes in your gut. your eyes dart to his belt, the knife hooked into it.

* you twitch when he grips your jaw and tilts your head back to look at the ceiling, but don’t flinch away.

* he leans close. you don’t know what he’s doing. he doesn’t ever get this close. you’re sure he can hear your blood thumping in your veins. heat and pressure rise in your skull.

* he breathes in deeply. his lips part. his teeth scrape lightly against the skin of your jugular — you didn’t think he would be able to, with the mask on — then press in. his jaw eases down on the soft flesh of your throat slowly, all the way until you feel his teeth grind against something solid. you think you might be suffocating. you think he might break your trachea.

* a strangled cry slips out of you. you tense even tighter, ready for him to do it.

* instead, he releases with a self-satisfied hum. it might be closer to a growl. you aren’t sure, being preoccupied with the blood rising in the little ring of indentations where his teeth split your skin.

* it stings when he sucks the blood from the wound, but the pain startles you less than his body appearing atop yours. he’s gripping your arms hard like you might try to run. instead, you find yourself clinging to him, legs hooking around his hips; which earns you a chuckle that sounds nearly genuine.

* he’s coaxing out weak sobs and tears for so long, you begin to wonder if he intends to do anything else. slowly, though, he’s bunching up your clothes and peeling away layers. he alternates between biting and lavishing attention on your skin, splitting and bruising the skin with his incisors before smoothing his cool hands across each plane and curve of your body to disperse the sharp pain.

* when he reaches for your panties, your fear spikes again. the sensation of his teeth skimming over the tender flesh of your inner thighs makes you tense up. the reaction doesn’t go unnoticed.

* he curls his arms around your thighs, not breaking eye contact. you inhale sharply when he captures your clit between his teeth. he hasn’t even bitten down, and yet your body’s already prickling in expectation.

* then his tongue slithers out. it takes every ounce of your self control not to lock your legs around his head. you can feel the hot, wet muscle pressing against your hole. your insides burn with lust as he pushes it inside you, tasting you. it drags inside you, writhing and contorting deliciously.

* each reaction earns you an approving hum. to you, it’s praise. to him, it’s positive reinforcement. habit building. another exercise to shape you.

* he wouldn’t admit it, but he craves you the same way. his love is grotesque and cruel, but something about him enjoys pleasuring you, too.

jesse cromeans

* cute, that you think he doesn’t already have his own series of homemade pornos featuring you and him.

* he’d never refuse submissions, though. he has a secret fondness for watching the security footage of his penthouse from when you’re alone in the bedroom, anyways.

* you’ll have left them on his pillow, the glove box in his car, maybe even at his work desk. you’re not worried about anyone else seeing them, since if they did, they’d have a day to live, maybe two, tops.

* he’ll tuck them into his wallet for later and go about his business, maybe send you a sly text, something along the lines of what you should be wearing when he gets home.

* you’re checking your hair and kicking your legs when his car pulls in. you’re up against the window, waving and looking down at him as he gets out. when he looks up at you, you receive only a signed ‘naughty’ in greeting.

* he takes his time at the front door, tucking his shoes into the closet and hanging his coat as if you’re not wearing his favorite pair of silvery-gray lingerie, kneeled right in front of him.

* “my knees are going to bruise at this rate, you know.” you admonish, and the look you receive could turn you to stone.

* “good.”

* “guess i’ve learned my lesson: never sending nudes to you again,” you say playfully. that’s all it takes for him to yank you off the ground and press you against the wall.

* you hook your legs around his hips on instinct and can immediately feel his hard cock through his slacks.

* it takes a moment for him to relocate his tie from his neck to your eyes, but it’s worth it when you hear the mask clatter to the floor.

* “is this a punishment, or a treat?” you wonder aloud, grinding yourself against his crotch as he slides off your panties. his teeth sink into your shoulder at the same moment his fingers find your clit. both, you decide.

bo sinclair

* he is definitely 100% a fan. he’s standing in your doorway grinning the moment he finds them.

* “these are something special, sweetpea.” he drawls, smirking at you. even though it was your idea in the first place, you can’t help but blush. there’s something about his complete and utter assuredness in himself right now that makes you feel especially small.

* “i can’t help but want to recreate a few of these.” of course he’s going to rail you then and there. what else could the photos be but an invitation?

* hardly even takes the time to get your clothes off. there’ll be plenty of time for that later. just tugs your pants down off your hips and spits between your legs, sliding his fingers through your folds only once or twice before pulling down his fly and pressing his cock against you.

* you must have a dumb look on your face — you hadn’t even realized your mouth is open — because he feels the need to pause and lave his thumb across your tongue. “hungry for somethin’?” you can muster only a graceless ‘uh-huh,’ the weeping head of his cock still pulsing against you.

* “good.” then there’s that stretch. every single time, you have a moment where it feels like he won’t fit. you can feel exactly how tight you are around him. every thick, winding vein along the length of him. you only come back to yourself upon feeling his body press flush against yours.

* he fucks like an animal. his breath is ragged and hot across your skin, occasionally broken to bite and suck at your breasts. your ass and thighs have already gone numb from his skin clapping against yours. you can only press your forehead against him and scream for him.

* oh, he’s keeping the photos, too. he’ll even ask for more. he’s sticking them up around the garage, his room, the rear view of his truck. teases you if you complain about it.

vincent sinclair

* nearly creams his pants. i mean it.

* it’s not like he hasn’t seen you naked before, but this is really something else. with pictures, he’s less embarrassed about staring. he doesn’t need to worry about accidentally making you uncomfortable.

* with vincent, you know he appreciates every detail. every curve and plane of your body, the way you’ve got one of his sweaters pulled up just far enough to reveal your slit. he’s nearly drooling.

* “hey,” you’re stepping languidly down the basement stairs — still in his sweater — catching him right as he finds them. he yanks down his shirt over his crotch as if it would hide anything

* you can’t help but grin at him and nudge his hands away so you can straddle his lap, stretching your arms past his shoulders and pushing your chest up to his face.

* he’s kind of frozen in shock, but it’s not hard to tell he’s losing his mind for you, either.

* eventually his eyes raise to meet yours and he tips back the mask to kiss you.

* “i like it when you wear that.”

og myers

* he’s perfectly aware of what you’re trying to do. he knows you want to get him worked up so he’ll fuck you to pieces. and being the person he is, he does the exact opposite.

* sticks the photos in the breast pocket of his coveralls and goes on his merry way.

* days pass. you wonder if he’s even found the photos you left.

* (in the meantime, you’re resisting the urge to touch yourself by just thiiis much. it’s torturous. you’re not sure you want to wait for him to make the first move, anymore.)

* you test the waters by finding reasons to get into his personal space. first it’s just your hand against his. then, you’re up against his shoulder. eventually, you’re perched up on his lap and he’s barely acknowledged that you’re even here.

* “michael,” you hum, face hidden against his neck. he only grunts in response.

* you can’t help but suspect he’s doing this on purpose.

* “i missed you today.” grunt.

* “i’ve been thinking about you.” hmm.

* “michael, i want you.” mhm.

* finally, you flatten your hands against his cheeks and force him to meet your eyes.

* “mikey,” you whine. you don’t mind begging, but this is just excessive. “please, fuck me.”

* silence. you’re about to give up and stomp out of the room to go find your hitachi wand or something when his hand shoots up to your throat.

* in one quick motion, he forces you underneath him on the bed.

* it’s his turn to tease, now.

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beanghostprincess · 3 months

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Rayleigh and Buggy reunion, but Rayleigh is being over the top judgemental about everything, like idk if u are familiar with crazy ex girlfriend the TV show but Rayleigh shows up and acts exactly like Rebecca's mom does. Overcritical of his life choices and dismissive of what he perceives as excuses coming from Buggy, because he knows Buggy's true potential and is annoyed with Buggy not living up to it. He gives Crocodile a once over and goes "is that what you found to replace Shanks with" and moves on and Crocodile doesn't even have a moment to compute the way he was just insulted because Rayleigh has moved on to criticising Mihawk's cooking instead. Worst part is, this all comes from a genuine place of love and care, Rayleigh is legitimately worried sick about his baby clown son of 39 years, but he cannot express that worry without being extremely invasive about everything. Buggy isn't even responding, he just shoots ppl apologetic looks and rolls his eyes when Rayleigh isn't looking because of course he does this obviously Buggy is never good enough for him and Shanks had always been the favourite (you ask Shanks or any other Roger pirate and they will tell you that Buggy is Rayleigh's baby boy and absolute favourite with utmost confidence, too bad the emotional constipation runs in the crew). Dinner is awkward as fuck, because Rayleigh makes attempts at being easygoing but his motherhenning nature irt Buggy shines through, his conviction that Buggy would be happier with Shanks by his side is making him be overcritical of everyone in that dinner and he keeps discussing the good old days and subtly hinting at Buggy that there is still time for him to go back to Shanks....and Buggy looks close to frustrated tears (and everyone agrees, Crocodile has snapped 5 cigars in half with his teeth and Mihawk is 5 seconds away from banging his head on the table).

Just overbearing father Rayleigh being stifling and trying to overcompensate for his shit parenting choices during Buggy's childhood and Buggy having his daddy issues expanded upon (and Crocodile and Mihawk gaining insight to Buggy's entire deal)

"Idk if u are familiar with crazy ex girlfriend the TV sho-" My therapist literally told me to stop watching it so much because it was affecting my mental health. So. Yes. I know the show. It's one of my favorite shows EVER. Rebecca is just like me fr my beloved. All of them my beloveds. The songs my beloveds. Don't make me go into CEG x OP because I won't finish. And as you can see, I did not listen to my therapist.

Even though I've always seen Rayleigh as the one who understands Buggy the most (Roger and him love Shanks and Buggy equally but it is quite obvious they put more pressure on Shanks to be more like Roger and that only made things worse by making Buggy's inferiority complex exist) and the one who stands up more for him and comforts him when needed, it is true that he might be more judgemental and he'd be worried for Buggy. Like. Think about it. Roger died and the kids (their kids) ended up alone and going their own separate ways. For Rayleigh, finding out Shanks and Buggy aren't together is just?? So weird?? Because they've always been together. Birds of a feather (if somebody mentions the song 'Two Birds' I am punching them because I can't handle that song today please). And it's just... Well, surprising. 'But as long as they're okay' but they're obviously not okay!!! And it's not that Rayleigh is judging Buggy. In fact, I think he would do the same with Shanks. The second Rayleigh sees Shanks he's already saying he drinks too much (even for a pirate) and that he's been acting recklessly and "What the fuck are you doing without Buggy? Is this because of Buggy?" / "I do not drink because of him. It's- It's not about him. He left-" / "HE LEFT AND YOU DIDN'T DO ANYTHING?????" / "I hate it when you get like this" / "Like what?" / "Like you want to still do something about my life. I'm an adult, thank you very much-" / "No, you're not if you keep acting this way". And I personally think Rayleigh would just be worried for the both of them and also feel extremely guilty because he wasn't there to fix things when they fought, the way he always did. "The second I left you alone you two start a fight that lasts two decades?" and he would say this to both of them and they would hate it.

But yeah, going back to Buggy I think he'd be worried because. Well. Have you seen Crocodile and Mihawk? I mean. They're kind of on good terms with Buggy now (more or... More or less. Kind of. They're not equals but they're some sort of weird thing and they respect and care for each other. More or less. It's- It's complicated. Don't ask) but they're still them. And Rayleigh can't help but see the situation and be like "I'm proud you made a name of yourself, kid, but you don't have to do this if you don't want to" (meaning: You could go back to Shanks any time you wanted) and Buggy takes it as an "You could go back to Shanks any time you wanted because you'd be safer with him" instead of the real "You could go back to Shanks any time you wanted because you'd be happier with him and this war of pride and hearts you have going on is dumb". And he understands Buggy needs to be away from Shanks to grow, but it's just so, so sad to see them like this when they used to love each other so damn much.

Also, I think Buggy would be going through the worst moment of his life and Crocodile and Mihawk would be so done for different reasons. First, they don't give a fuck about all of this drama. And second, they are starting to see Buggy more like a person and understand why he is the way he is, and the things Rayleigh is saying are bothering them a lot. They've been trying to make the clown move on from his past so he's useful for once (because when he believes in himself he's actually not a burden and more interesting) and now this guy (that they respect because it's Silvers Fucking Rayleigh) comes and tries to change things around here? Nope. Not happening.

So basically, what you're trying to tell me is that Rayleigh regrets raising the boys that way and now he's overcompensating and it's overwhelming for everyone, right? I- I love it. Great plot. 10/10. In character. Perfect. It makes me go insane. I love their daddy issues.

(Also, can we talk about how "This Was a Shit Show" and "What'll it be" are extremely Buggy songs??? Because- Because now I want to-)

#i absolutely loved this i have no words to explain how much i love this #one piece #buggy the clown #silvers rayleigh #red haired shanks #cross guild #shuggy #< target audience #i mean it's obvious i was taking it as romantic for them

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norman-fucking-reedus · 28 days

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I read your submissive Scud post and it literally had my foaming at the mouth. I was wondering if you would expand on that? (Especially the pegging part💀)

Thank you!! You’re awesome!!! I love your work!!

THE PEGGING THE PEGGING THE PEGGINGGGRAAAAHHHH 😝🎀🔥🦅🦅

We’re both foaming at the mouth okay I get the urge to fuck the shit out of him every hour of the day its not a want its a need I desire that I NEED THAT

Anyone who says Scud wouldn’t be into pegging needs to immediately get their eyes checked. That is a cock lover in the flesh. Like i’m telling you guys he loves to just get bent over any surface and be completely stuffed.

This brings me to my secret headcanon abt him, I firmly believe that he’s been double stuffed before. Maybe he bumped into some hot guys on a mission who he totally didn’t lure into the back of his van for them to literally ruin him, and he totally wasn’t getting his little throat and ass destroyed on all fours. Wrong guy. Not him. Never ever.

Now let’s not get it twisted Scud still loves women. Thing is, his cock has always had a lot more nerve endings than the average male, so he cums fairly quickly, but don’t worry because all of Norman’s characters come pre-equipped with pussy eating powers. And Scud is pussy eating machine. He wants it for breakfast lunch and dinner. He has to be forcibly removed and pried away before he thinks about stopping. The jaw cramps just means that hes doing the damn thing.

Back to the original topic.. When you first brought the idea up to Scud, he had absolutely no fucking clue what pegging was, until you dumbed it down for him, to which he almost immediately agreed. Getting his back blown out by a literal goddess? Umm, somebody better sign him up twice.

Now again, Scuds cock is a tender one, and good boys dont need to be cumming after a few thrusts, so you cutely and quietly stop that from happening. How?

“What’re ya tying?” Scud mumbled against your lips as he you looping something around his balls and the base of his cock, jerking slightly when you pulled the ribbon tightly, tying it into a small bow. “Just something special for you” You kiss him, and he needily kissed back, dick twitching from your gentle contact.

Scud gets very, very turned on by kisses. Especially ones that are deep and sloppy with lots of tongue and spit. He gets so drunk off them and it’s the easiest way to get him to submit, because lord he’d do anything you say just as long as you keep kissing him.

Okay the actual pegging part, Scud is not the foreplay type. He physically cannot take it and needs pleasure as soon as he can get it. He’ll whine and squirm as you finger him open, babbling out begs for you to hurry.

He likes to be fucked as if he were a literal ragdoll. Please pound into him as hard as you can, he needs it. He needs to be a moaning mess on the desk. Also Scud is so. fucking. loud. His whimpers and whines bounce off the walls for everyone to hear, and while yes kissing does work, yanking back on his choker works a lot better.

Scud has a choking kink to the max. A very dangerous one at that. He likes to be almost strangled, racing between his orgasm to see if he would cum or pass out first. His choked off gasps and sobs only get him fucked harder.

Oh and the ribbon. The amazing ribbon. When Scud’s orgasm starts to build, he can feel it in his gut, tingling in his toes and shooting through his spine, so close, getting closer and closer yet never quite falling off the edge. It starts to hurt, his dick starts to painfully twitch at the lack of release, whining loudly as you continued rocking into him, a smile pulling your lips. “Hey Scud. Wanna see how cool my cock is?”

He mumbles something out, lips glossy with spit as a small puddle started to form on the table. You fished a remote out from your pants pocket, clicking once, twice, glancing up to Scud’s twisting face. You swiftly pulled your hips back, leaving only the buzzing tip of the dildo before completely burying it all back into your boyfriend, pressing right into what you knew was his sweet spot from the lewd and loud whimpers that Scud couldn’t stop from coming out, each thrust sending his eyes so far into the back of his head.

Scuds cock ached, orgasm building so rapidly once again as you fucked him stupid, turning his brain into nothing but the sex clouded mess that it was made to be. When you amplify the vibrations speed, and it makes each snap of your hips pump pure ecstasy into his body, and he just needed so much more.

“Please, mmngh, please let me cum mommy, please fuck me so hard and let me cum,” He babbled, whimpers and moans tearing from his chest when he felt you increase your pace, skin slapping skin. “Is this what you want, hm baby? To be fucked like the dirt slut you are?” You cooed, leaning down over him. Scud brainlessly nodded against the table, choking on his words as he spoke. “Yes! Want mommy to pound me so deep- so, very fucking deep!” He gasped, shaking like a leaf when he felt the you pulling the ribbon loose, almost sobbing when his orgasm crashed over him finally, cumming harder than ever. You fucked him through it until he was twitching and whining, actually you fucked him until he came again, high moans spilling past his lips with every buzzing thrust to his sweet spot, so overstimulated and sensitive yet you just kept going.

Scud could barely keep his eyes open, groaning which each slap of your hips. You fucked him like he was your own sextoy, pulling orgasm after orgasm from him until he would just collapse, so used and destroyed. His toes curled at a particularly hard thrust, choking in surprise when you suddenly yanking his head back by his choker, holding him down onto your vibrating cock pressed blissfully into that bundle nerves inside him. Scud choked his moans and cries out, desperately rocking his hips as his third orgasm raced off the edge. Oh God, he was so fucking close, vision starting to turn black and his ears ringing as he practically fucked himself on your strap, orgasm slamming into him–

“Scud? Y/n?” Blade’s voice rang out from the hallway, and you quickly pulled out and away from Scud, who gripped the table as his orgasm continued washing over his whole body, bitting down on his lips as he muffled a pained yet so pleasured sob, hips thrusting into the air as ropes of white shot out from his swollen and totally untouched cock, “Fuckin’ hell Scud” You grumbled, shutting off the dildo and having to just stuff it in your underwear, pulling your pants up quickly and searching for anything to wipe up the mess you’ve created.

Blade approached the workshop, steps echoing throughout. You groaned when you couldn’t find anything, and settled for wheeling a chair ontop of it, shoving Scud in it so his still halfway exposed bottom was covered, leaning against the table as if everything was totally normal.

The man swung the workshop door open and lingered at the top of the stairs, staring down at you and Scud with a questioning face. “What are you two doing?” You shrugged, responding with a casual “Nothing.”

Blade’s eyes landed on Scud, who was still very visibly fucked out, eyes droopy and lust riddled, hair pushed back and messy, not to mention the bruises forming on his neck from his choker being pulled. “Mhm. Whenever you get done doing ‘nothing’, come find me” He spoke flatly, before turning and exiting the room, shutting the door behind him. You sighed in relief, glancing down at Scud and his ruined state.

You leaned down, tilting his head up to kiss him on his glossed lips, smiling playfully. “I am not done with you, Scudster”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

I got a little carried way I just need. I need. I need him guys.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

#i need him #tearing my own clothes off #scud fanfiction #scud #scud x reader #scud frohmeyer #scud blade 2 #norman fucking reedus #the walking dead #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl x female reader

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