You, Every Night.

You, every night.

Just wanna set the record straight, I support both Luigi Mangione AND whoever shot Brian Thompson. Just remember Luigi hasn't been confirmed to be that person.

Either way both are incredibly fuckin based

22K notes View Post

s1llygo0s3

1 month ago

As your head rested on her thighs, her body tensed up. She looked down at you, forgetting all about her game. Her opponent was kicking her characters ass, but that was something she didn’t give a single fuck about in that moment. The sight of your pretty face laying on her lap, so close to her crotch, made her heart pound against her ribs violently. Her thoughts raced uncontrollably, imagining very wrong things. But she couldn’t help. Her cunt was so close to the place she wanted it to be. Against your fucking mouth.

Yeah… she was definitely a motherfucking horny loser.

Loser!Ellie x Femme Best Friend reader? very soft at the beginning and an horny desperate mess at the end?

𝑪𝑼𝑴 𝑹𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 𝑶𝑵 𝑴𝑬. . .- 𝑰 𝑴𝑬𝑨𝑵 𝑪𝑨𝑴𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑬!!

As Your Head Rested On Her Thighs, Her Body Tensed Up. She Looked Down At You, Forgetting All About Her

content warning - nsfw , cursing , inexpiernced!ellie , biting kink , cunniligus(ellie!receiving) , clit play , ellie is an absolute loser with no experience , perv!ellie , masterbation mentioned (ellie) ellie cums in her boxers , reader is kinda blunt , ellie is shy and awkward here . .

pairings - bsf!loser!ellie ✗ fem!reader

"holy shit! why am i eating literal ass right now in this game!... "

you scoff at ellie's words, looking down at the book in your hands once again. At this moment, you laid flat on your stomach on ellie's blue carpet in her room while flipping through a random dinosaur book you saw on her desk while ellie - your best friend sat comfortably in her gaming chair near you.

it was safe to say that you were bored out of your damn mind , your friend who would rather play on her PC than entertain you in some fun way was annoying the fuck out of you - especially her random loud yelling when she lost a round in whatever game she was playing. . .

you rolled over on your back , eyes staring at the ceiling with a frown creased in your eyebrows. "ellie. ." you spoke out softly as your eyes flickered to her form.

due to her ginormous gaming headphones, she couldn't hear you, her face shown nothing but determination as her fingers roughly hit her keyboard - right leg bouncing anxiously. . . you sigh , you wanted her attention on you. . you don't understand why she'd bother to invite you over if she was just going to be on her computer the entire time. you slowly sat up, sighing at the ache in your back, a small pout on your face as you still eyed ellie.

you slowly roll over, now on your hands and knees, crawling towards ellie quietly and slowly without her realizing. . your cheek was then meant with the feeling of her cloth sweatpants as you layed your head on her leg. . . unknowingly to you, ellie's body tensed up in an instant at the feeling of you on her thigh.

"u-uh. . . hey, whatcha doing? there?.." the now flustered girl spoke out, her green eyes too nervous to look down as she felt her freckled cheeks warming up.

"I'm bored. ."

"o-oh - uhh, i thought you were . . um reading?"

"ellie i don't give a shut about fossils and dinosaurs - no offense. ."

"oh. ." ellie let's out a soft sigh when her character in the game accepted death once more , letting out a shaky sigh her hands pulled away from the keyboard . . genuinely ellie felt kind of , stupid. . she was now a whole bundle of nerves just by you laying your head in her thigh - she swore to herself that this little crush she developed on her bestfriend would go away thinking it was just a small phase in her life - i mean everyone liked you at one point. .since you were so pretty and so fucking sweet. . genuinely a great personality.

but that was when she was 11. . and now she's 19 and still can't stop feeling her heart pound rapidly against her chest whenever you were near her - which was almost all the time.

she remembers talking to Dina about it , and instead of receiving good advice, she received a laugh in the face telling ellie to just go for it and ask you out. . yeah as if it was that easy - ellie knew you liked girls . . both of you found that out in high school together, but ellie knew for a fact she wasn't your type.

i mean, your ex was literally one of the most famous football jocks in the college you both currently go to. . abby fucking anderson - nothing was particularly wrong with abby it's just the simple fact the woman always had her hands on you like some sort of horn dog in heat. . . and you let her , it made ellie's blood nearly boil over just thinking about it.

and she couldn't deny the overwhelmingly happy feeling she felt when you came to ellie once telling her you broke up with abby - ellie had good dreams that night.

but that was just one side of ellie's crush , the other was. . . different - now ellie isn't a pervert but in her defense, it's just hormones. .on one of those nights when you, ellie and other mutual friends would go out to parties around campus , ellie didn't know if it was the alcohol in her system or whatever type of pill dina gave to her but seeing you in the middle of the dance floor , rubbing up on a random girl making your short dress ride up showing more of your thigh. . shit.

ellie didn't know why , or how but when she went back home that night her hand somehow. . . made its way straight into her pants as soon as she hit her bed - letting out all of those hot desires and feelings on her swollen , wet clit . . fingers rubbing in tight circles as her other hand covered her mouth.

she wasn't exactly proud of masterbating to you, but she knew she'd never actually get a chance to do this with you in real life, so there's no harm in using her imagination, right?

"and i- ellie? elliee!"

ellie flinched at the sound of your face, calling out to her, frowning slightly she finally looked down at you and immediately her breath got caught in her throat as she found your eyes peering up at her curiously. . . you looked so damn pretty. .

"did you hear me els?"

"wha - what did - huh?" ellie's words came out fumbled under her breath causing you the peer at her with a confused grin.

"jeez okay i know you don't like her, but i want to know what i should do" your sentence made ellie frown as she was suddenly snapped out of her lesbian yearning gaze "huh?"

"psh i knew you weren't listening - abby! should I text abby back?"

abby?

who's the hell is abby- ohhhh no ellie remembers. . wait, why was abby texting you?

"abby? why is she texting you?" You shrugged at ellie's words "i dunno , says she misses me or something like that. ." ellie frowned as a small pout formed on her pink lips at the thought of you and abby getting back together.

"you. . broke up with her for a reason , you shouldn't reply. .but do whatever you want. . i gues.." ellie spoke out softly and almost unsure as she now looked back up to her computer starting the game once again - needing a distraction as she was avoiding your gaze now , silence over took the room for awhile.

"yeah but i low-key need a good fuck. ."

ellie's hands froze on her keyboard, the sound of her characters' fatality being heard around the room - her eyes wide as her warm cheeks are a shade of dark red "w-what"

"I've been so stressed about exams and shit , it wouldn't be bad to just y'know" you say in a almost obvious tone to ellie , thinking she understood what you meant but by her rigid motion and shocked expression it was clear she somewhat didn't "ellie? what dont tell me youve never fucked someone to let out stress or something..?"

suddenly ellie stood up from her chair arubtly causing your head to nearly hit the desk beside you. "hey! a warning would be nice el!"

"it's hot in here - yeah I'm super hot!" ellie suddenly yelled out as she walked over to her bedroom windows and unlocking it to open the window up - the cold autumn breeze immediately hitting her heated body . . . you sigh and stand up making your way to her bed, plopping down on her comic book themed bed sheets you laid on your back and peered at the girl who stood near the windows still.

"els come here. ." you called out softly, ellie - tense but obeying your words walked over to her bed and slowly sat near the edge . . honestly if someone saw the scene they'd think you were the owner of the bedroom instead of the timid girl who sat on the edge on her own bed nearly falling off.

"ell- why are you ever there? come here weirdo. ."

ellie gulped thickly and moved her body higher up, her back now leaning against her headboard as her eyes searched around for something, anything to make this any less awkward for herself, her hands grabbed up the dinosaur book you once held - flipping it open to a random page.

"what are you doing?"

"reading this - unlike you I'm very interested in fossils and dinosaurs. ."

"Trust me, ellie, I'm aware of that it's just - why are you reading it upside down instead?"

ellie cringes in embarrassment as she hastily flipped the book to the correct side , thinking about how much she's an idiot she suddenly felt something in her lap, lifting the book to get a good view. . there your head laid in her lap once more.

why the fuck do you keep laying there? ellie thinks with red cheeks.

"you seem pent up els. ."

ellie's eyes widened at your choice of words "pent up? what do you??"

"have you really never slept with anyone?" your head that was laying in her lap was once looking across the room and was now looking at her face, reading her expressions like a book. . . your right hand grabbed the book out of ellie's hand and threw it somewhere on the bed.

"anytime i touch you, your body goes all stiff. . as if you've never been touched by another girl before . ."

fuck! was ellie being that damn obvious, and ellie thought about your words for a moment, and if she was being honest, she was very pent up , especially at this very moment. . . the sight of her best friend whom she's known for years having her pretty face laying in her lap . . . so fucking close to her crotch area. . this alone made her heart rapidly pound within her chest, her breathing becoming shaky as sinful thoughts raced through her mind , she couldn't help it . . your head was so close to her cunt - that was pulsing uncontrollably by the filthy thoughts in her mind and you asking about her non-existent sex life . . - shit. . she wanted nothing more for your plump lips to be around her swollen clit.

and at this very moment ellie knew that she was nothing but a mother fucking loser horny for her bestfriends mouth.

"ellie?. ."

"fuck. ." the sound of your soft voice calling out to her in confusion - she couldn't help but imagine you moaning out her name in the same tone.

your body perched up, leaning towards ellie with both your hands planted on the bed on both her sides , your face leaning close to her's. . you've known ellie for years, meaning you could read her like an open book - you weren't stupid you were able to see right through ellie and how she acted around you . . to be honest you were just never 100% sure - but the sight of her freckled cheeks turning red , her green eyes looking anywhere but you. . oh you were sure.

"do you like me ellie?"

"w-what. ."

"am i the reason your cheeks are flaming red?"

ellie breath caught her throat , she couldn't speak . . what the fuck was happening right now ellie closed her eyes tightly before opening them , she had to make sure she wasn't dreaming . . her lips shuddering slightly as her whole body felt like it was on fire , ready to explode. . a soft whine escaping her lips when you leaned closer. .she could smell your pretty chocolate-vanilla perfume entering her nose.

"what do you want me to do to you?" Your whispers made her thighs clench as her eyes closed. ."tell me. ."

"i don't- i don't know. ."

"yes you do, cmon i know you want something. ." one of your hands that was rested on the bed then moved to ellie's thigh , you smirked at the feeling of her slightly flinching by your touch.

"please. .please. ."

"Please, what?"

"touch me. ." ellie has never felt more nervous and shy in her life. . she's never had any experience with women at all , this was a first for her . . her thighs clenching hardly against each other as both her hands fisted her sheets, not knowing where to put them. .

ellie could feel your hand now on her cheek, your thumb on her pink bottom lip , your head leaning closer to her, causing ellie to close her eyes once more thinking she'd finally be able to feel your pretty lips against her's - instead a soft moan escaped her throat when she felt your lips on her neck, leaning her head back so you can have more access. . hissing when she feels her flesh being pulled by your teeth.

ellie could feel her boxers absolutely soaked with her wetness from her cunt, clenching around around nothing just from the feeling of your lips on her skin. . . skimming around her neck for her most sensitive spot.

"w-wait please! i -- ah! fuck!" ellie could feel the embarrassment wash over her body , as her hips buckled she could feel the cum leaking out her pussy - did she really just orgasm just by the feeling of your lips on her neck?

you pull away, looking at ellie's face, her chest heaving as she tries to get her breath .the supirse was evident on your face, and you couldn't help the way your ego boosts a little at the sight. . your own thighs clenching together , your sharp eyes now staring at ellie's sweatpants.

"take off your pants. ."

"sh -- shit! ahh! feels so . . ah!"

your lips placed around ellie's pink clit, sucking on it sometimes letting your tongue flicker against her which made her thighs shake - ellie's groans escaping from her lips and into your ears making you suck against her harder. . . one of your hands holding her thigh open as the other held her naked breast - her white shirt pulled all the way up to her chin.

you pull away for a moment, causing ellie to whine at the cold air hitting her wet cunt.

you lean back in , tongue now lapping at at her cunt in fast motions - you groan at the feeling of ellie's fingers pulling at your hair . . you could feel her wetness trickling down your chin . .

"feels -- so fucking good! f- fuck!" ellie choked out - this was almost like vivid sex dream she couldn't believe was real. . never did she ever think she'd actually have your head in between her thighs getting her off - her hips buckling up into the air , leaning more into your mouth . . seemingly attempting to thrust into your mouth, which caused you to chuckle at how needy she was being.

your tongue now sliding down to her clenching hole , entering it her pulsing cunt around your pink muscle as you develed in her pussy.

you were almost pussy drunk just from her taste , so bittersweet but so enjoyable as you moved your head side to side . . one of your arm moving away from her breast and on her stomach - fingers leaning towards her cunt as you presses them down on her puffy clit.

"f- fuck! think I'm gonna -- cum again!" ellie moaned out as her hips now buckled against the sheets, groaning when she feels you push one of her legs deeper on the bed so they spread wider.

" eating my -- pussy so fucking good! fu -- fuck!" ellie hands that was once gripping your hair was attempting to push your head away from her pulsing cunt , you could feel her cum soaking your tongue causing you to moan against her rolling your tongue in small circles before eventually being forcibly removed by ellie's hands.

"Too much -- fuck!"

your lips were soaked as you licked them, moaning at the taste of her still. . . your stare penarating ellie as you just stared at her chest rapidly, moving up and down ,head still leaning back into her pillow, heavy breathing escaping her mouth.

the sight of her breast still uncovered made you all squirmy inside , as if your panties weren't totally ruined hours ago.

you lean away, on your knees, hands going to remove your shorts and underwear and carelessly throwing them to her floor. . ellie eyes were closed, not noticing your movement as she was still coming down from her high , you move to her body hands opening her shaky thighs once more as you slip your legs in hers.

"w-what are you -- woah. ." ellie began to ask before realizing your position, her already pink cheeks going a deeper shade.

taking a breath before planting yourself on top of ellie , gasping at the feeling of all of her wetness spreading against your pussy - ellie breathed heavily at the unfamiliar feeling . . holy shit a bunch of curse words floating around her brain her mind still couldn't comprehend if this was real or not.

you lean forward, planting your hands on ellie's abdomen and began to slowly rut your cunt into ellie's , whining as your clit bumped into hers. . you weren't gonna last long. You knew that already - so you started to move your hips eagerly against her grinding harder as both if your slicks mixed with eachother. .

the only sound heard in the room was the wetness of your two pussies and soft , gentle moans escaping both of your mouths - you pulled your hands away reaching for your shirt tossing it off of you as you rutted your hips harder. . you could feel your cunt clenching against ellie's getting ready for a release.

"Ahh -- ohnygodd! feels so goo - ellie!"You panted, throwing your head back further. .lost in your own pleasure, you don't feel ellie's eyes on you. . . she watched in awe as your pretty breast moved on your chest from your faster movement - the beautiful fucked out expression shown on your face . . . god you were so beautiful - ellie suddenly growing confident placed her hands on your hips, moving your hips for you against her. .fast and urgently.

your eyes rolling back as your incoherent sentences meant her ears - letting out a low groan as she felt your pussy clench and leak against her's . . observing you intently with hard breaths as your body shook from your orgasm.

yeah. . this wasn't a fucking dream. . and thank god for that.

hope this was good !! this was one of my first request !! 💌💌

784 notes View Post

s1llygo0s3

5 months ago

"stress" by yoan capote - made of bronze and concrete

119K notes View Post

s1llygo0s3

3 months ago

ME 'N THE DEVIL - THE SALESMAN

pairing: salesman x bottom male reader

synopsis: A story of obsession and longing, where one man's desperate need for love traps another in a web of fear, desire, and the haunting promise of safety that feels anything but safe.

content warnings: 18+, bottom male reader, kidnapping, drugging, blood, reader's boyfriend is an abusive bitch, death, dubcon, forced submission, breading, cream pie, dead dove do not eat.

word count: 4.1k

A/N: requested by 🥀 anon (link). i don't think i did enough justice to this amazing prompt sksksjsj

The bar was nearly empty that night—just how you preferred it. The soft hum of the jukebox played a tired old rock ballad, the kind that felt heavy with nostalgia, though you couldn’t place why. The faint clink of glassware punctuated the quiet, as the bartender cleaned glasses with the same rhythmic monotony they’d perfected over years.

You sat hunched over the counter, fingers curling loosely around your glass of whiskey. The amber liquid reflected the dim, golden glow of the bar lights, casting distorted shadows against the wood.

“And then he…” You trailed off, swallowing against the lump rising in your throat. You stared into the glass, as though the answer to your pain might be hiding somewhere in the depths of the drink. “He called me a waste of space.”

The words hung in the air, raw and shameful. Your voice wavered, and you fought the urge to cry.

“Like I don’t already feel like one most days,” you mumbled, your lips pressing into a bitter line.

The bartender paused their wiping to nod, their expression one of quiet sympathy. But the gesture felt empty, rehearsed even. They probably heard stories like yours a hundred times a week—drunken tales of bad lovers, broken hearts, and bruised egos. Still, you pressed on.

“He doesn’t just yell,” you admitted, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Sometimes… he hits me. But he always says he’s sorry after, and I…” A hollow, bitter laugh escaped you, cutting through the thick air. “I keep forgiving him. Like a goddamn idiot.”

For a moment, silence stretched between you and the bartender. Their eyes flicked to the clock, their discomfort palpable. You couldn’t blame them. Who wanted to hear a stranger’s misery, especially one they couldn’t fix?

“Sounds like he doesn’t deserve you.”

The voice startled you—smooth, confident, and close enough to make you stiffen. It came from your left.

You turned your head, blinking at the man who had somehow slipped onto the stool beside you without you noticing. He was striking, his sharp features framed by slicked-back hair that glinted faintly under the dim bar lights. His suit was tailored to perfection, charcoal gray with subtle pinstripes that hinted at wealth and precision. But it was his eyes that caught you most. They were piercing, their intensity almost predatory, like they saw right through you.

“Excuse me?” you asked, your surprise laced with suspicion.

The man smiled, and it was the kind of smile that could melt the edges of even the hardest heart. It was warm, practiced, and just shy of charming.

“You deserve better,” he said, his tone soft but sure. “That much is obvious.”

You frowned, instinctively pulling back a little. The comment was unexpected, and you didn’t know how to take it. “Do I know you?”

“Not yet.” He leaned back slightly, casual and self-assured, like he belonged in every space he entered. “But I couldn’t help overhearing. You deserve better than what you’re settling for.”

The directness of his words left you flustered. You hesitated, unsure whether to be defensive or grateful.

“You don’t even know me,” you muttered, a hint of challenge in your tone.

He tilted his head, his gaze never leaving yours. “Don’t need to. Some things are obvious.”

You stared at him for a moment longer, searching for some sign of an ulterior motive. But his face betrayed nothing except an odd mix of calm and curiosity. Finally, you turned back to your drink, muttering under your breath, “Bold of you to assume you know my life.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m wrong,” he countered smoothly.

The corners of your mouth twitched despite yourself.

The next time you saw him, you were back at the bar, nursing yet another drink after another brutal argument with your boyfriend. The whiskey burned less this time, your tolerance rising in step with your misery.

You’d been thinking about the man from the other night more than you cared to admit—his sharp wit, his confidence, the way his presence had made you feel seen in a way that was both comforting and unnerving.

When he appeared again, sliding onto the stool beside you like he belonged there, your heart skipped a beat.

“Rough day?” he asked, his voice warm and inviting, as if you were old friends.

“Something like that,” you muttered, your head low. You didn’t want to spill your heart out again—not tonight.

But he had a way of drawing you out. His questions were easy, his comments sharp but never cutting. Before you knew it, you were talking again—about nothing and everything. About the little annoyances of your day and the bigger cracks threatening to break you apart.

He listened, really listened, and offered thoughts that were insightful without being overbearing. He even made you laugh—a genuine laugh, something you hadn’t done in weeks.

By the time you realized how much time had passed, the bar was closing, and the two of you were walking out together.

The air outside was crisp, carrying the faint smell of rain. He walked you to your car, his presence steady and reassuring beside you.

“You know,” he said as you reached your door, his voice lower now, almost intimate, “you’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

You looked at him, startled by the sincerity in his tone. His gaze locked onto yours, intense and unrelenting, and for a moment, you felt like he was seeing parts of you you’d tried to hide even from yourself.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, unsure how else to respond.

As you climbed into your car, you caught the way he looked at you through the window—like you were something precious, something he couldn’t quite have but desperately wanted.

The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine. And for a fleeting moment, you wondered what it might be like to let him have you.

The man couldn’t get you out of his head. You consumed him, haunted his thoughts, and stirred something primal in him. But there was one obstacle standing in his way: your sorry excuse of a boyfriend.

He watched from the shadows, studying the man who dared to hurt you. The bruises you tried to hide, the way your voice cracked when you spoke of him—it was enough to fuel The man’s resolve.

The next time he saw you at the bar, he smiled warmly and ordered you another drink. You didn’t notice the way his hand lingered over your glass for just a moment too long, or how the edges of your vision began to blur shortly after you finished it.

When you woke, you were in a dark room. The smell of dust and old wood filled your nostrils, and the faint sound of classical music played from a record player in the corner.

Your wrists were tied to the arms of a chair, the rope biting into your skin. Across from you, your boyfriend sat in a similar chair, thrashing and screaming into the gag that muffled his words.

“What the hell—?” you began, your voice trembling.

“Good evening.”

The man stepped into view, his sharp grin cutting through the dim light. He was impeccably dressed, as always, his hands clasped behind his back.

“What’s going on?” you demanded, panic rising in your chest.

“It’s simple,” he said, his tone calm. “You’re going to play a game.”

On the table between you and your boyfriend sat a revolver, its gleaming barrel a stark contrast to the grimy room.

“Russian roulette,” The man explained, picking up the gun and spinning the cylinder with practiced ease. “One of you walks out of here. The other… doesn’t.”

Your boyfriend screamed behind his gag, his eyes wild with terror. You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. “No! I won’t do it!”

“Oh, but you will,” The man said, his smile never wavering. “Because you want to live. And deep down, a part of you wants him to pay for what he’s done to you.”

The man placed the revolver on the table, spinning the cylinder with a flick of his wrist. The ominous cl-click of the mechanism echoed in the room, setting your teeth on edge. He looked between you and your boyfriend, his grin widening as if he relished your fear.

“Let’s begin,” he said, picking up the gun. His movements were deliberate, almost casual, as if this were no more than a game of cards.

“You’re not rolling the barrel?” you questioned in shock, staring into his eyes, which seemed devoid of any emotion.

“What’s the fun in that?” he merely grinned, while adjusting his cufflinks.

He pointed the revolver at you first.

Click.

The sound was deafening, despite the empty chamber. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering against your ribs as you stared down the barrel of the gun.

The man chuckled softly, as if entertained by the way your shoulders heaved with each shaky breath. “Nerve-wracking, isn’t it?”

He turned the gun toward your boyfriend.

Click.

Your boyfriend thrashed in his chair, muffled cries spilling through the gag as he shook his head violently. You could feel his terror radiating across the small room, mingling with your own.

“I’d almost feel bad for him if he wasn’t such a waste,” The man mused, spinning the cylinder again with deliberate slowness. The sound of the metal grinding against itself sent a chill through your entire body.

The gun swung back to you.

Click.

You flinched, tears spilling down your cheeks as your vision blurred. Your mind screamed at you to move, to do something, but you were frozen, your body paralyzed by fear.

The man hummed a classical tune softly under his breath, tapping the side of the gun like he was debating his next move. His eyes flicked between you and your boyfriend, finally landing on the latter.

“Let’s see if he’s feeling lucky.”

He raised the gun again, pointing it between your boyfriend’s wide, bloodshot eyes.

Click.

Your boyfriend screamed into the gag, thrashing so violently that the chair scraped against the floor. Sweat dripped down his face as his muffled cries turned into guttural, animalistic wails of desperation.

The man sighed, feigning disappointment. “Oh, the suspense is killing me,” he said, the grin on his face making it clear that he was enjoying every second.

The revolver spun again, slower this time. You heard every metallic grind as it came to a stop, and your stomach lurched.

This time, the barrel swung back to you. The man pressed the gun against your cheek, the cold metal biting into your skin.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re terrified,” he whispered, his voice low and intimate, like a lover’s confession.

Click.

You gasped audibly, your eyes darting to his. He stared back at you with a manic glint, his grin splitting wider as though your anguish was his favorite song.

Without warning, he turned the gun back to your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend screamed, shaking his head violently, tears streaming down his face. He made a muffled plea through the gag, words you couldn’t make out but understood well enough: he was begging.

The man tilted his head, feigning consideration. “I wonder what your last thought is right now. Regret? Fear? Or maybe it’s anger… at yourself for being such a pathetic excuse for a human being.”

He pulled the trigger.

BANG!

The sound of the gunshot ripped through the room, leaving your ears ringing. Blood sprayed across the table and onto your face in hot, sticky droplets. Your boyfriend’s head snapped back violently before slumping forward, the rope keeping his body upright as blood poured from the jagged hole in his forehead. His body twitched once, then fell still.

The metallic scent of blood mingled with the acrid smell of gunpowder, burning into your nostrils. Your stomach churned as you stared at the lifeless shell of the man who had once called you his.

You should’ve felt horror, revulsion, or even guilt. But somewhere deep down, a small, twisted part of you felt… relief. Relief that it was finally over, that he couldn’t hurt you anymore.

The man stepped closer, crouching in front of you and gently brushing a blood-spattered lock of hair from your face. His touch was uncomfortably tender, a stark contrast to the carnage around you.

“You’re free now,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “No one will ever hurt you again.”

Your lips parted, but no words came. You stared at him in shock, your mind a haze of terror and conflicting emotions.

Before you could process what had happened, darkness crept in once more.

When you woke, it was to the dim light of dawn filtering through your curtains, casting soft, golden rays across your room. Everything felt disjointed—your body ached in places you couldn’t explain, and your mind was swimming in a haze of fragmented memories. For a few blissful seconds, you thought it was just a nightmare, a grotesque figment of your imagination brought on by too much alcohol and too little sleep.

But then you noticed the faint metallic scent still lingering in the air.

Sitting up, you looked down at yourself. Your clothes were rumpled and clung uncomfortably to your skin, but it was the faint smudge of red near your collar that made your stomach drop. You didn’t want to believe it. You stumbled to your feet, each step heavy with dread as you made your way to the laundry hamper.

And there it was—a bloodstained shirt.

The sight hit you like a punch to the gut, your breath hitching as the reality of it all came crashing down. It wasn’t a nightmare. It had happened. The screaming, the gunshots, the blood—it was all real.

You threw the shirt into the deepest corner of the hamper and slammed the lid shut, as though that could contain the memories clawing their way to the surface.

For days, you couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t function. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw flashes of it: his twisted grin, the spray of blood, your boyfriend’s lifeless body slumping forward. Guilt and relief warred within you, an impossible combination that left you sick to your stomach.

Eventually, you realized you had to do something. You couldn’t keep drowning in your own mind. So, you decided to rebuild.

You poured what little savings you had into opening a small bakery, a cozy place tucked into a quiet corner of town. It became your sanctuary, a space where you could channel your pain into something productive. Kneading dough, shaping pastries, and watching loaves rise in the oven—it was simple, grounding work that gave you a sense of control when everything else felt so chaotic.

The bakery quickly became a modest success. Locals loved the fresh bread and the warm, inviting atmosphere you worked so hard to create. For a while, you almost believed you could have a normal life again.

But then he walked in.

It was an ordinary afternoon. The scent of freshly baked sourdough filled the air, and sunlight streamed through the shop’s front windows, casting a warm glow across the wooden countertops. You were arranging a tray of croissants when the bell above the door jingled.

Looking up, your heart stopped.

There he was, standing in the doorway as if he belonged there, his sharp features and piercing eyes unmistakable. He was dressed as impeccably as ever, his suit perfectly tailored and his smile disarmingly casual.

“Nice place you’ve got here,” he said, approaching the counter with an air of ease that made your skin crawl.

Your hands trembled as you wiped them on your apron, trying to steady yourself. “What… what are you doing here?” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t answer right away, instead glancing around the shop with an almost appreciative expression. “Just passing through,” he said finally, as if that explained anything. He slid a few bills across the counter. “A few loaves of sourdough.”

Your fingers fumbled as you grabbed some fresh loaves and wrapped them in parchment paper, your heart pounding so loudly in your chest you were sure he could hear it. You avoided his gaze, but you could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move.

When you handed him the loaf, your hands brushed for the briefest moment, and you pulled back like you’d been burned. His smile widened, his eyes glinting with something dark and unreadable.

“Thanks,” he said, his tone light and polite, as though this were just a normal interaction.

He turned and walked out without another word, the bell jingling softly in his wake.

As you closed shop for the evening, flipping the "OPEN" sign to "CLOSED," a deep sigh escaped your lips, the weight of the day melting off your shoulders. It had been one of those relentlessly busy days where time blurred—an endless parade of smiling customers asking for pastries, loaves, and the occasional custom order that had you juggling more than your two hands should allow. The familiar ache in your back and flour dusting your sleeves were reminders of how hard you’d worked. But as the quiet settled in, so did a sense of peace.

For once, your mind wasn’t completely consumed by thoughts of him. It was a rare reprieve, the memories and fears receding like the tide, leaving you with something close to calm. You held onto that feeling tightly, as though letting it slip away might invite the darkness back.

After locking the door and slipping the keys into your pocket, you stood on the sidewalk for a moment, staring at the fading sunlight painting the horizon in soft hues of orange and pink. The thought of going straight home to your empty apartment felt suffocating—too quiet, too lonely, too much room for your thoughts to spiral.

A gentle breeze stirred the air, carrying with it the faint scent of grass and distant flowers, and an idea bloomed in your mind. The park. It had been weeks since you’d allowed yourself the luxury of just… being. You needed the fresh air, the open space, the sounds of the world moving on around you. Maybe, just for a little while, you could convince yourself that everything was normal.

And then you saw him.

He stood on the sidewalk, holding the bread that he had bought from you for a moment before deliberately letting them fall to the ground. Then, with calculated cruelty, he ground it under his heel, the parchment paper tearing and the loaves crumbling into pieces. A group of homeless people nearby looked on, their gazes hungry and desperate, but he didn’t so much as glance at them.

Instead, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours.

That grin spread across his face again, wide and manic, his teeth gleaming in the afternoon sun. It wasn’t a smile of kindness or humor—it was a promise. A reminder.

Your stomach twisted, and you stumbled back, your breathing ragged. He knew exactly what he was doing, and the message was clear: you weren’t free of him.

Not yet.

That night, you awoke with a start, your senses assaulted by the soft, flickering glow of candlelight. Shadows danced along the walls, their movements hypnotic and eerie, the faint scent of wax and smoke filling the air. Your heart pounded as you realized you weren’t in your bed. The room was unfamiliar—opulent, in a hauntingly old-fashioned way. The furniture was dark wood, the drapes heavy and velvet, the atmosphere suffocatingly intimate.

And then you saw him.

He was standing over you, his silhouette bathed in the golden light of the candles. His suit was pristine as always, his tie slightly loosened, and his sharp features softened just enough to be disarming. But it was his eyes that held you captive, their intensity pinning you in place like prey caught in a predator’s gaze.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice low and velvety, carrying a dangerous edge of satisfaction. He crouched beside the bed, his movements deliberate and smooth, his presence overwhelming. “Good. I was starting to think you’d sleep through the best part.”

Your breath hitched as his hand came up to your face, his fingers brushing your cheek with a tenderness that felt utterly at odds with the situation. His touch was cold, yet it left a trail of fire in its wake, and you couldn’t help but flinch.

“You can’t run from me,” he murmured, his tone soft but laced with an unyielding certainty. “I’ve been patient. I’ve given you space. But you belong to me, and it’s time you understood that.”

Tears welled in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks despite your best efforts to hold them back. You hated how vulnerable you felt, how powerless you were under his gaze. His thumb brushed a tear away, his touch almost reverent, and he smiled—a soft, bittersweet smile that only made you feel more trapped.

“I adore you,” he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Every moment, every thought, it’s all been for you. Don’t you see? I’ve done everything for you. And now, you’re mine.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could process what was happening, his lips were on yours. The kiss was messy, desperate, and all-consuming, like he was trying to claim every part of you at once. His hands cradled your face, his grip firm but not painful, as if he were afraid you might disappear if he let go.

You hated yourself for it, but you kissed him back. Your body betrayed you, a spark igniting deep within you that you couldn’t extinguish. His passion was intoxicating, pulling you under like a riptide, and for a moment, you forgot everything else—your fear, your anger, your confusion.

When he finally pulled away, his breath was hot against your skin, his forehead resting against yours. “You’ll be safe with me,” he murmured, his voice heavy with conviction. “Forever.”

His words sent a chill through you, not because you doubted him, but because you believed him. There was no escaping him—not his obsession, not his control, not the twisted connection that bound you to him.

Deep down, in the parts of yourself you didn’t want to acknowledge, you knew he was right.

His hands slowly trailed down to the hem of your pants, tugging them off. The cool breeze hit your thighs, forming goosebumps along the soft skin– making you shiver with a mix of delight and fear.

He pressed forehead, slowly inching down to your lips, pulling you in once more, as he lifted you in his arms completely.

“Such a pretty little thing,” he cooed whilst sliding your boxers down, revealing your throbbing erection.

You whimpered at the praise as he brought his hand to your chin to make you face him. His eyes– which previously felt devoid of having any human emotion, were now different. You couldn’t place exactly what it was.

As he pulled you into another searing kiss, one of his fingers prodded at your exposed hole, wet with lube. You yelped at the sudden intrusion, only to be silenced with another kiss.

He slowly pushed his finger in, followed by another, and then another. Three digits were slowly pumping in and out of you, as you held on to the man’s already crumpled shirt for some sense of balance.

When he deemed that you had been prepped enough, he slowly removed his fingers, and replaced them with his hardened length (you hadn't noticed him taking his pants off–oh well).

He pushed the tip in, making you throw your head back, and an almost pornographic moan leaving your lips.

The man let out a low groan,you were so tight that it seemed like your hole was sucking him in. When he bottomed out, you took few deeps breaths, but before you could say anything, he pulled out almost all the way and slammed back in.

Your eyes went to the back of your head, jaw going slack. His hands were holding your legs up in such an angle that he was hitting your prostate with every single thrust.

Your hole clenched around his length, almost making it hard for him to move– but he seemed to manage. He fucked into with reckless abandon, marvelling at your pretty sounds– they were angelic to his ears.

Soon, you felt your orgasm consuming you like a raging waterfall; but the man wasn’t finished. He rammed into you even harder than before, the overstimulation making your brain go fuzzy.

Eventually, his thrusts stuttered, and he spilled his load into you– painting your insides a pearlescent white.

You huffed, feeling filled to the brim as he slowly placed you back onto the bed. The exhaustion made sleep consume you once more.

“You’re mine now, little dove– and I’m never letting you go.”

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s1llygo0s3

2 months ago

the women of america were once promised that butch dykes would be lurking in all corners of society, ready to corrupt our minds and turn us all gay. what ever happened to that. where are the butches uncle sam.

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s1llygo0s3

1 year ago

fuck it. worm on a string picrew chain. let's fucking go

happy worm creation my friends

tagging @areyoudoingthis @cursed-coat-of-homosexuality @peanutbutterex @tfemteach @piratecaptainscaptainpirates (no pressure 💛)

📰Khawla's Family Campaign Update: 55📰

$10,235/$00,000 as of October 8th [11pm CDT]

Currently $765 away from $11,000 as a short term goal

We've made it past the halfway mark! if you've donated to or spread this campaign, thank you so much! The next immediate target is $15,000 as a 3rd of the way to the fundraiser's goal.

gofundme.com

Donate to Support Khawla's Family in Gaza Crisis, organized by Abi Lass

My name is Abi from Lincoln, NE, and I'm raising money for Khawla and her family from … Abi Lass needs your support for Support Khawla's Fam

Please consider donating even just $5, $10, or $20 to help push this fundraiser further along, or please reblog/share the campaign so that more people who can donate may see it!

[for more information on this campaign: check my pinned post, the campaign page itself, or message me directly if you have any questions.]

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