was just thinking of price punishing his younger gf, by having her naked body pressed to the floor, and her ass perched in the air, just a few feet in front of his desk. he nudges her knees apart, so he can get a better view of her pussy. and he just goes about doing whatever the fuck he does, and he has her there for hours-- her knees aching and back sore from the sharp arch that he's put her in.
john looks up from a piece of paperwork, and he can see the way her pussy flutters; see the way her stomach heaves softly, the soft pushing movement making her pussy leak; juices pooling from her hole, down her swollen folds, and then to her inner thighs. she's creamy and slick; literally dripping onto the carpet, and john is suddenly salivating. and she's been a good girl, no complaints and minimal whines and pleas-- that he can't help but push back from his chair, knocking it over in his haste to get to her.
she's too out of it to really comprehend what's happening before she's mewling out, thighs quivering almost violently as his tongue is suddenly thick and hot against her pussy. john swallows down her slick like a man starved, each curl and pull of his tongue full of her cream, and he rumbles deep in his chest like some kind of beast. his large, meaty hands grip the fat of her hips almost bruisingly as he devours her quivering cunt, her taste has him feral. she babbles mindlessly, her eyes rolled back; clit fat and stiff in his mouth.
and it takes him an hour or so to finally pull away from her pussy; she's a pile of overstimulated flesh, her plush little mouth parted and saliva dribbling down her chin, she looks like she's going to pass out but the only thing john does is push his thick, long cock into her pussy and fuck her into the carpet, her knees sliding and burning. this was a punishment after all.
gynecologist cody! who should’ve requested a female assistant in the exam room when your name pops up in his appointment log. knowing damn well that he couldn’t control himself around the younger patient that exposed the perversion in him.
the last appointment when your brown skin smelled faintly of strawberries. the heavy weight of your D cup breast in his hands and perky nipples that harden at his fingertips for examination. throughly kneading the flesh and enthralled with the soft whimpers from your pretty throat. healthy he concluded.
gynecologist cody! who isn’t surprised that you forgot to wear panties again under your denim skirt. your feet in the stirrups as you slid down the crinkled plastic cover. the smell of your arousal and pretty pink pussy exposed made him strain against his navy scrubs.
the black frames perched against his noise, leaning in to see the wetness that formed at your entrance. you craved attention, begged for it under the guise of wanting a checkup ,but it had to be much more.
gynecologist cody! with gloved fingers inside of your walls. promising a gentle examination and wanting to feel your muscles contract. “so fucking tight.” he mutters to himself precum forming at his tip and threatening to cum in his pants like some virgin.
his two fingers curl inside of you, brushing against your walls as the latex glove becomes soaked. soft moans spilling from your agape mouth as the overhead surgical led light clouds your vision.
you gasp when his tongue circles your clit promising to himself that it’s just a taste, a routine procedure that you’re intact. his mouth drags from your entrance to your clit sucking noisily on the bud as you shamelessly hump his face. sweet indeed.
gynecologist cody! who makes you cum twice, one with his fingers, second with his mouth and now with his dick bringing you to the third. gloved hands holding your thick thighs open as he pounds you relentlessly. his mushroom tip abusing your cervix “didn’t know pussy could be this wet.”
he was embarrassed at his unprofessionalism, face red, and panting as he dragged his girth back and forth the squelching walls. pussy milking like a vice grip and greedy at the feeling of skin slapping together.
his thumb strums your clit, your eyes now noticing a wedding band you couldn’t give a fuck about. the feeling euphoric as a pathetic moan circles the small space. you reach for him wrapping arms around his neck as he whispers lewdly in your ear.
“think it’s funny making me all flustered, making me obsessed over this little pussy.” his dick swelled inside of you, strokes fast at a dizzying pace that makes your stomach recoil squirting all over your doctor.
his groans are guttural cumming rope after rope into your pussy spilling out onto the exam table. “good fucking girl.” he slides out of you with a pop a satisfied grin etched onto his handsome face.
gynecologist cody! who cancels all of his appointments for the rest of the day, rendering you sore and fucked out to the point you’ll never think about seeing another doctor.
introduction: hello! this is part 4 of Kitty! i’m honestly not sure if there will be any more parts as i don’t have any more ideas as of yet :/ sorry if future me leaves u on a cliffhanger forever. there is another puppy reader part in the works though! no timeframe on that yet so let’s just get into what’s here today ;) basically gross simon and icky johnny who plays into it.. so yeah. can u tell i like choke holds. abuse of commas 😓😓 partially proofread. 4.3k words. previous part and masterlist
contains/warnings: nonconsensual groping & touching, yucky descriptions of spit, dubcon oral sex (reader does want the sex to an extent but there’s something else she doesn’t consent to), 2 spanks, coercion & manipulation, kidnapping, drugging, barely there threesome, ‘Kitty’ used as nickname for reader, negative self talk.
A heaviness is lifted from your shoulders when Simon leaves. You may have interacted more with him, but not many were positive. He was unpredictable, rude, and trapped you inside his house, all while seeming to hate you.
You appreciate Johnny a bit more. He’s nice to you. He’s a bit of light streaming from a window into Simon’s cold apartment of a heart. You don’t know why he’s keeping you here.
Johnny seems to like you. Maybe it’s just a relationship thing, but Simon will deal with you until Johnny gets bored. And you know the deal, then you’ll be tossed to the streets again. It’s not new.
At least they seem to be somewhere around middle class. They have enough to spare. You’ll stay a few more days, stock up on some essentials, and you’ll be on your way. They can’t kick you out if you’ve already left.
So, you let him tug you to the bathroom, willingly go along with him using that horrid disinfectant on your arm, and bandage you back up with some clean gauze. You let Johnny pull you into his side once Simon’s left, turn on the television, and tuck your head against his shoulder.
You struggle to stay awake, the only fuel you have being fear and rage at this whole situation. At yourself. How could you have ended up here?
You know better.
You know you’ll get out of this. You chose to be reckless, and now you’ll choose to be smart about it.
He smells nice. Like pine tar. Warmth.
A bonfire, only you’re just a little bit too close.
Your nose easily falls into place into the indent behind his jaw. Your breaths wash over his collarbone. You can hear the dulled roars of a crowd, and every once in a while, his muscles tense as they cheer.
You only get more tired. You sit up a little more, side propped against Johnny's, hand coming up to cover your mouth as you yawn.
You see him smile in the corner of your eye, and he still is when you turn to him.
“Need t’be put down fer a nap?”
You shake your head, ignoring the urge to roll your eyes. His head turns back to the screen briefly, noting the beginning of half-time, before taking your hand in one of his hardened ones and beginning to stand.
“Well, how about we go wash up?”
Just the motion of standing makes you nauseous, stomach turning lin waves as you resist the urge to gag. You quickly brace your free hand on the couch to help prop yourself up, blinking rapidly to help with the dizziness.
“We?” you ask, confused.
His smile turns more impish, and he tugs you closer as he starts pulling you towards the bedroom.
“Yes, we. Not shy, are ya? Jus’ to conserve water, of course. Bills are expensive these days, y’know?”
No, you don’t know. You don’t remember the last time you’ve even seen a bill in your name. You don’t know the prices considering you don’t- can’t pay them, but you’ve sure heard a lot of people with a home complain about bills.
You wish you had that issue.
You also don’t know how he hasn’t realized you’re not quite the outgoing type. No, he knows.
No response is given.
Once he’s brought you to the bathroom attached to their shared bedroom, he reaches for you. You can’t help the instinctive step you take back, and you almost feel bad when you see the wounded look on his face.
“Ye okay, Kitty?” he questions, brows furrowing slightly. Like he hasn’t trapped you in his home. Like he hasn’t started treating you like his girlfriend. Like it wouldn’t make total sense for you to be unsettled.
“Yeah, I’m just, uh…”
He sighs through his nose, pulling back the curtains of the tub.
“Listen, how about you get in first, and I’ll keep my eyes closed the whole time. Deal?” he adds, pushing his hand out towards you.
Whatever it takes.
You take his hand and let him pull you closer as he turns the faucet on. He switches the water to be directed through the shower before he lets the two of you switch places, stepping back to be behind you. You don’t know if he’s turned around or closed his eyes, but you don’t think you want to.
Trying to be quick with the removal of your clothes isn’t easy when your hands are trembling. You shudder violently when you step under the warm water, squeezing your eyes shut as you stay facing the wall.
“I-I’m in,” you breathe shakily, hugging your arms.
“Alrigh’. Gonna step in behind ya. Don’t rip ma head off.”
You hear the rustle of clothes, ears twitching. Your tail wraps around your thigh as you listen to him step into the shower behind you, flinching slightly as you feel him place a hand on your back.
“There ya are,” he murmurs, tucking his chin over your shoulder and grasping your side with his hand. You’re familiar with this feeling now. He’s not quite pressed up against you, but you can feel the warmth of his chest. You ignore the way your head naturally tilts to one side to make space for him.
“What’s got you so skittish today?” he asks, as if this is new behavior from you. As if he isn’t the one who trapped you in his home.
“Just… not used to this, is all. Want to go back outside.”
“Soon,” is all he tells you, and you don’t know if you believe him anymore. You want to.
He holds you carefully, tilting your head back to keep your hair out of the water as he reaches around you to grab men’s body wash. Compared to the 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner next to it, it looks almost ornate.
His rough hands are surprisingly gentle with you. Even as they scrape against your skin, he’s slow and leisurely with the way he washes you. Around the slopes of your shoulders, down your sides, up your chest. You ignore the way his hands unnecessarily cup around your breasts. Over the curve of your stomach and dipping between your thighs.
You choke on saliva as he does, hand jerking to grip his wrist.
“Easy, Kitty,”
His hand stays strong.
He isn’t looking to give you pleasure. Instead, his fingers swerve around your clit and down your slit to ‘clean’ you. You wish you could enjoy it. Wish you could lean into his touch and-
No.
“Jus’ washin’ you.”
“I can wash myself,” your voice tremors, chest rising up and down a little harsher.
“Ah’ know you can.” he huffs, leaning his cheek against your jaw from behind. His hand leaves you, briefly, squeezing more soap into his hands before he begins on your legs.
You’re not brave enough to fight him. Not today. You don’t want bad blood, you just want peace. You can only have peace if you leave.
He washes the entirety of your body before moving onto himself. Avoiding your hair. It makes sense to you, considering they’d just done it the other day. While you were unconscious. While you have no recollection.
What else could they have done?
The thought makes you shiver.
You quickly shift your thoughts to something more digestible. He cleanses his hair as though he’s a dog, scrubbing aggressively and shaking his head to send excessive water flying all over the bathroom as he turns the faucet off. You both step out.
He wraps up in a towel and turns to clean himself, seemingly unconcerned with the fact you can fully see his ass. When the rustling of him putting on clothes gets loud enough to cover the sound of their sink cabinet creaking open, you manage to snag a few pads from ripping open a brand new box.
You’d seen them earlier when Johnny was giving you a new bandage for your arm. You tried not to ruminate on questioning why these grown men had period product, women’s clothes, women’s underwear-
Maybe they had an open relationship? No, you would’ve seen someone in the time you’d watched them. A roommate? Nope, same thing. Maybe they were swingers.
Yeah, that makes sense. You’ll go with that.
You crouch down to slip them into the pocket of the pants you wore previously to the shower, and you toss them in the laundry bin casually when he faces you once more. He doesn’t seem suspicious. Just annoyed with the fact that his hair keeps dripping, cursing under his breath. He wraps a towel around his waist and grips your wrist to tug you along with him.
Your wet feet slip along the floor as he drags you, much more focused on getting to the bedroom. He releases you once you’re inside, letting you wander to the bed on your own as he fishes through the dresser.
You sit with the towel wrapped around your armpits, holding the fabric tightly to your body. He stumbles around a little as he pulls some new clothes on. Blue boxers, a red wool-looking sweater, and some casual black pants. He’s not very balanced.
He rifles through the other drawers and brings you out a new outfit, but places them aside instead of clothing you like you expected. You watch as he huffs and puffs until he finds a pale green bottle of lotion, giving you another one of those smiles that make your breath tremble while he kneels in front of you.
“What’re you doing?” you sniffle, holding the towel closer to your body.
“Relax,” he coaxes, squeezing a pump of lotion into his hands. “Yr’skin is so dry, jus’ giving ya a little moisture.”
He rubs his hands together, reaching for your left ankle and starting a soft massage up your leg. You notice the tip of his tongue popping out, running along his lower lip. It makes you anxious.
Excited.
“You don’t need to. Really.” you breathe, but you don’t pull away.
“Let me do this for ya, Kitty.” he says, looking up at you with those blue eyes. They don’t scream danger. No, it’s something else. Something wild and fierce. Not scary or scared, just… off.
It unsettles you. Turns you on.
You nod absently, staring down at him as he reaches higher up your leg. His fingers work near flawlessly. Purposeful. So, when he gets to the top of your leg and his fingers slip along the cleft between your thigh and cunt, you know it’s intended.
He switches to your right, using his warm hands to encompass you all the same. When he’s made your upper leg, he rests one of his hands on your right inner thigh, the other palm slipping under you to slather your left cheek. His thumb is resting on the curve above your slit. Rubbing up and down, back and forth, not quite touching your more sensitive parts. It feels like a warning.
The rest of his movements are made with his left hand only. You feel him reach towards your towel, pulling it to slowly fall on the bed behind you. You exhale shakily. He keeps his right hand just above the little bundle of nerves, pumping some more lotion into his other. He begins to rub it onto your hip, up around your lower stomach and sternum.
His thumb lowers. Resting right over your pulsing clit. Presses.
“Johnny-“ You jolt, voice wavering.
“Shhh. Yer fine.”
You glance at his face, insides clenching, “I don’t- You-“ your voice breaks off on a choked whine, head falling back between your shoulders. It shouldn’t feel like this. You don’t like feeling out of control, but now you feel that your entire being, bare throat and all, has been plucked by them.
Your lips part to pant as he starts to rub half-circles atop your clit. You can’t tell whether it’s from stress or pleasure. Your lids fluttered closed.
Stop, no, more, now-
He abandons rubbing the lotion part your collarbones, both thumbs parting your lower lips. One thumb just above it, raising the skin of your clitoral hood to expose the little bead beneath. “Fuck, look how pretty she is…” he mumbles softly, his voice startling you all the same.
“Please-“ you choke out, head lifting forward and righting itself. You feel too vulnerable. Too exposed. He rubs his thumb in light circles around your bare clit, your fingers curling against the bedsheets.
His hands slip around your thighs, gripping the curve of your ass to pull you to stand, feet dragging against the floor. Your hands snap to press against his shoulders for support, your vision fixed on the way his pretty blue eyes look up at you. Fuck.
“I gotcha, baby.” he exhales, and you frown. He cranes his neck to press kisses along the part of your slit, gaze focused on you, then flitting to somewhere behind you, before opening his mouth to carefully suck your clit into his mouth. Your mouth drops open, cheeks feeling warm as the muscles in your neck knot together, head falling back just to shove you back into reality as your head hits a firm pillow of flesh.
You flinch in surprise, head snapping to the side to see the side of someone’s jaw, then raise your gaze higher to meet Simon’s. Your muscles are stiffened in preparation to flee, eyebrows pinched together in a guilty expression, corners of your lips tugged down into a frown.
He’s staring at you. You return it. What’s there to say? ‘Hey, you’re back. By the way, your boyfriend is eating me out. Sorry?’
Until Johnny’s lips part to make way for his tongue, your spine curving inward and eyes rolling to the back of your eyelids as your head meets Simon’s shoulder. Your hands drop from your chest to lace into his hair and tightly grip the strands.
“Fuck,” you sputter, eyelashes drifting shut. You feel a pleasant ache in your lower stomach, muscles twinging in a good sort of pain.
There’s movement behind you, a rustling of Simon’s pant pockets against the back of your bare leg. You feel his hands raise- and there’s pressure on your neck now, a clasping noise right next to your ear.
It’s hard to make your eyes force themselves open when Johnny's mouth feels so good, but the strange noise has you curious.
One of your hands comes up to your neck, feeling around to feel a leather strip banded around your neck. Johnny tightens his grip on the backs of your thighs and pulls you closer. Renews his efforts. Your pleasured noise is cut off by how startled you are, hand frantically pulling at the collar on your neck.
“What-“ you squeak, only a finger or two fitting between the collar and your skin before Simon is redirecting you. He grips your forearms, maneuvering you until he can clasp both your wrists in one of his bear-like hands, pinning them against your sternum. His other arm hooks around your collarbones and pulls you flush back against him. “What’re you doing- Stop-“
“Settle down,” he scolded, feeling your muscles tense as you squirmed. A grunt- halfway between pleasure and panic is then the next thing that slips from your lips as you struggle. Johnny is acting none the wiser, flattening his tongue against your opening and dragging up until your fingers twitch.
You moan, displeased, as Johnny draws his hand up to press his thumb to your clit. Firm pressure at first, almost a bit too much for your liking, until he starts rolling the nerves underneath his thumb.
It’s when you get to the point of baring your teeth that Simon decides you truly need an attitude adjustment. His forearm tightens around your collarbones until it is flush with your neck. Holding the fragile dip of your throat in the stiff tendons underneath the roughened flesh of his arm.
A justified rumble of disapproval bubbles up your throat only to be caught in its tracks by his grip tightening. Your breath gets weaker, vision a little hazier, muscles losing some of their fight, while your head gets lighter.
“There y’go…. That’s it.” His words are molten against the back of your neck. He steals your last breath, holding you for a few more seconds until he loosens his grip. You gasp, the air whooshing down into your lungs harshly. It leaves your head delightfully fuzzy from the rush, eyes watering until a tear streaks down your cheek.
You let your head fall back willingly this time. You go a little looser in his arms, hands going limp in his grip while you lean back against him. Johnny takes the newly relaxed muscles as his sign to slip his tongue inside of you, your thighs instinctively squeezing around his head.
You let out some sort of indignant squeak as your voice comes back, hips leaning away from his motions and causing you to bump into Simon behind you. It doesn’t give you much, besides a guess on Simon’s opinion of the situation considering the imprint of his cock against his thigh.
Johnny just digs his fingers into the meat of your thighs while he hums against you. Simon doesn’t seem as pleased. “Give it up, love. Fighting just makes him want you more.”
You moan, displeased as Johnny’s tongue makes its way back inside you. It somehow feels more visceral, more raw than your fingers do. It aches in a beautiful way. Johnny’s hand slips up your side, palming the swell of your breast when he reaches it.
His tongue slips out of you, drawing the muscle up to replace his fingers against your clit. Your toes curl in your socks as he sucks it into his mouth, thumb coming down to rub circles around your opening instead.
They work together like a perfect melody. Johnny’s finger pressing just barely inside, his lips making way for his tongue, Simon’s forearm tightening just at the right time. It feels like amber burning between your legs, the fire spreading up your abdomen and down your thighs.
You nearly screech your way through the climax of it, your throat grating painfully. Simon’s arm around your throat makes you feel ten times lighter. You should feel scared.
You don’t.
Your eyes flutter back open without the knowledge of ever closing them, flicking down to Johnny between your legs. He slowly pulls his mouth off of you, his smile surprisingly sweet for the filthy things he just did to you. It nearly enrages you.
“I hate you.” You pant, bare chest heaving. He just fucking smirks at you.
Simon releases your arms, and your shoulders release their tension. Your hands stay where they are, glued to your sternum, fingers curling and flexing to test the renewed sensation. His freed hand dips down between your legs, your brain too fried to defend yourself. Your nose scrunches in disgust as he collects your slick on his fingers before subsequently smearing the liquid on your cheek with his index and middle fingers.
“Yeah, m’ sure y’do.”
Your hands come up to push at his forearm, sending yourself further back into his chest. “Ew, that’s- fucking gross!” you blurt, ignoring his snicker.
Johnny stands in front of you and grabs your face in his hand, smushing your cheeks between his thumb and other fingers. He takes his time licking the stripe of slick off your cheek, moaning like it’s the most delectable thing he’s ever tasted.
He pulls away with a laugh, deep in his chest, licking his lips and releasing your face.
“Fuckin’ delicious.”
You scowl at him, the space between your eyebrows crinkling with the amount of distaste in your expression, ears turning to the side. You wish you could like them. You wish you could relax for once.
Fuck them. Fuck their apartment. Fuck their money. Fuck their perfect faces and gentle hands. You want out.
You cringe internally at nearly every other interaction with them throughout the day. They’ve touched you. Felt what it’s like when you come. Tasted the tacky substance between your legs.
It grosses you out to have someone know you so intimately, without even knowing your name. ‘Kitty’ isn’t *so* insufferable anymore, but you still don’t love to hear it.
It’s later in the day, Simon doing whatever he does in the bathroom that makes him take so goddamn long, when you decide it’s time. Johnny is curled up in their bed, under the covers, waiting for you to return with water. You won’t.
You’d said you were thirsty when you saw a moment that your biggest threats were at their weakest. It’s not nice. You don’t enjoy it. It's necessary.
You open the cabinets a few times, pretending to look for the glasses. (You wouldn’t need to, you’ve already been here a dozen times.) You turn on the faucet, too, hoping it covers some of the noise while you're grabbing the things you’d stashed below the sink. A few pads, some protein bars, and a bottle of water. A pair of socks, ibuprofen, and some toothpaste. Things they won’t miss. Things they don’t need.
You’re currently kneeling in front of the cabinet under the sink, shoving as much as you can fit into the front pocket of the hoodie snatched just a few minutes ago. You curse quietly to yourself as the toothpaste clatters to the ground to your left, and you go to reach for it, startling when the tube is beside a pair of legs.
“‘the fuck are y’doing?”
A jolt of surprise runs through your body at the sound, lips parting and closing like a fish out of water when your startled gaze lands on him. You wince as you bang your head on the counter on your way up. You frown, ears tilting to the side at the sound of his voice.
Your shoulders are up by your ears, and your arms are held close to your chest while you stare at him. Your voice comes out unnaturally high-pitched and quick-paced. “I- You just- You don’t even *like* me. It doesn’t have to be a big deal, I’ve already thanked you for everything, you can just let me leave-“
He grabs you by the face, thick fingers digging into the flesh of your cheeks. You can only imagine the way you look, lips smushed together by his grip, despite your attempt to glower. “Y’think I’d let you stay in my fuckin’ apartment, eatin my fuckin’ food, if I didn’t like you?”
And when you don’t respond, you can’t with the way your lips are pressed together, he shakes your head like an unruly dog might. You can almost feel your brain rattle around in your skull. “Hm? Think I’d let you make out with my boyfriend?”
“Mmph!-“ you aren’t allowed to begin speaking with how quickly he smashes his lip against yours, your teeth catching on his upper lip, but he doesn’t mind. Your hands raise to his abdomen, ready to push away.
His other hand comes around to press a heavy hand on your ass, pushing you to stumble forward until your chest collides with his.
All the while, he’s pried your mouth open, ignoring when you try to shove him out, moaning unnecessarily loud as he sucks on your tongue. You can feel the copious amounts of spit swapping back and forth between mouths as he ravages you, a foamy glob sliding down your chin and onto his thumb, where it drips down his hand.
It’s only when you’re struggling to gasp for breaths that he decides to pull away. When you open your eyes again, your head immediately turns to the side with the way he’s staring at you, heavy breaths coming from his nose.
Your eyes are watery and glossed over, lips raw from his teeth, a bit of perspiration at the back of your neck. You squeeze your eyes shut.
“That help you?”
You nod, lips parted to pant, eyes reopening. You’re not sure it did.
“Good.” He huffs, tugging on the D-ring of your collar before freeing you and shifting aside to let you pass. “Go join Johnny. I’ll get your water.”
You’re frozen for a moment, mind buffering before it catches up just to hear the sound of Simon reengaging the lock on the window. You feel a clap on your ass just as you start to walk away, shoulders jumping while a yelp leaves your lips.
You hurry your pace, nearly stumbling in your urgency to get away from him as you hear a chuckle from behind you. You frown, tail agitatedly swishing between your legs as you walk through the hallway. Soap is sleepily smiling on the bed when you come across the open bedroom doorway, lifting one of his arms for you.
“There ya are. Where’s your water?”
“Um…”
“I’ve got it.” Simon interrupts from behind you, causing you to jolt once more. You look at him over your shoulder, and he just raises a brow, signaling for you to continue.
“I couldn’t find the cups. Simon helped.” You breathe, exhaling through your nose. His name tastes foreign in your mouth. Tingles on your tongue. You swallow through thick saliva, walking around the bed to sit on the opposite side of the bed.
Johnny does seem to mind the space, opening his mouth, just to be interrupted by Simon coming to sit next to you. He squishes you up against Johnny and forces you to settle between them. Johnny hooks an arm around your neck, pulling you down to be reclined with him.
Simon hands you your water wordlessly. You take it, hands clasped around the glass, eyes distracted by the small, white flurries swirling around at the bottom of the cup. You make eye contact as you pause. He holds strong with that same, dead look in his eyes, and watches as you take your first sip.
You know better.
You shove the thought down, as well as the small satisfaction at Simon looking pleased. You settle in closer to Johnny, fixing your blurry vision on the television.
You’ll try again tomorrow. Maybe.
notes: not my best work 😞 i might edit some in the next few days. just wanna get it out or ill never post it. this is also like my third time writing smut soooo… did i match your freak. be honest
hi! you told there are hints of lolicon stuff in caleb's og trope, could you point it out? /genq
So first the what’s super lolicon are the outfits that Caleb’s Mc wears. He has her wearing Mary Janes (the shoes she wears in his birthday card) and a dress with ribbon straps. The entire outfit she wears in his beach card is just so little sister. Like he always covers her up and dresses her so cutesy. Usually her outfits with him lean towards a style more suited to a younger girl.
Secondly his trope overall has her behaving like a little girl since he’s older then her hence her bossing him around for snacks, calling him a bully and he adores it when she behaves like that. When she gets bratty with him. He still babies her like she’s a little girl and he combes her hair for her too.
Lastly his trope overall puts her into the bratty little sister roll and that generally also comes with acting younger than your age. And that’s just a quick little analysis.
Trying to come up with new powers for the Ladybug Miraculous and having the issue of how similar Tikki and Duusu's power is. I want to give Ladubug the ability to create mystical creatures/spirits to help her and make her seem more creative, but it's basically the same power, technically.
they say that you can only write about something or someone when you have enough hands to grasp it. but no one told me how hard to put it all out there when you no longer have the heart to hold onto it.
no one told me that i'd be undoing all the embraces i did once i decided to make drafts about it. no one told me that my fingers will stay strained and fatigued from holding the pen for too long, despite letting something/someone freely flow on the paper. no one told me about the joy and pain from talking about something or someone i was in love with, especially when i no longer belong to that narrative anymore.
and regardless of having enough hands to grasp the familiarity i have had with something or someone, no one told me that i would still hope to fathom another perspective of those experiences-- in the hopes that this time, i can hold them properly now.
imagine the hero going to a random pub without his mask, just trying to relax, finding the villain dancing and flirting around with other visitors..
the hero was shocked but remained silent, hmm.. for some reason, he couldn't look away from the villain! his eyes locked to the villain's body, the way it sways to the way he laughs..
the hero finally snapped out of it when the villain locked eyes with him and approached him..?? he unconsciously looked away until the shorter male wrapped his arms around the hero's neck!
"enjoying the show, handsome?" seems like the villain didn't know the hero's true identity! and uh oh, the villain chose the hero to be his tonight.. and who is the hero to reject a sexy and hot babe??!
mmm how many rounds have they gone through?? wet and dirty sheets, two sweaty males, and loads of skin clapping.. the overstimulated villain and the really horny hero..
seems like the hero came up with a plan.. for the sake of world peace.. so he fucked the villain so hard and rough that he can now only think about the hero's big cock! oh no, the villain is now hooked up with it :((
all this is definitely for the sake of world peace! hmm.. why is the hero smirking like that? seems like he has something else in mind..
p.s hero def chocked villain and villain loves it.. also leaving love bites all over the poor villain's body.. i hope it's readable and i fucking love male hero x male villain.
