As I’m Continuing To Try To Educate Myself On The Black Lives Matter Movement, I Decided To Watch “The

The little shit!!! I loved this

Bed of Roses

dark!Clark Kent x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ only; DUBCON, coercion, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, major size kink, descriptions of size difference, no plot

thanks to @/inklore for the divider

You had come to trust Clark, trust in his righteousness, and more personally, you trusted him to never hurt you.

Not only was he the hero the world needed; Clark had placed his secret in your hands. The least you could do for him was be there to support him in the little ways you could. It hadn't seemed enough at first, because compared to the fires he battled, the heights he flew, what could you dare hope to provide for Clark? But he kept coming back. In time, you overcame the shyness of beholding a hero. But the awe never wore off.

And how could you not grow to love this lonely soul that insisted you were the only balm for the sacrifices he made?

You hadn't been ready that first time, but he had been patient with you. You started out with so much going through your mind; afraid you would disappoint him, afraid that the next stage of physical intimacy would change too much of your relationship.

Then he came in, with a confident touch and encouraging words. There was so much, he was so much that night.

Hungry -- his eyes blazed up and down your naked form; his hands grasped and squeezed firmly so that were you to try and get away, you would have surely failed. His mouth had swallowed down your mumbles, nipped your skin until you felt dazed in submission.

You had been nervous, yet his cooing washed away your quiet words. His unrelenting weight kept you in place beneath him. Kept you secure, just as he insisted you should be. I'll always keep you safe. He could understand you so well, even better than your own mind, it had seemed. You don't let new things scare you off. You're my brave girl. He shouldered the responsibility of Earth's inhabitants, yet, Clark did not hesitate to pay extra attention to you.

"Just the tip, that's it." He cooed, nuzzling against you as your lips parted in mimicry of how he was opening you up. "So good, sweetheart."

He wedged the tip of his cock between the wet lips of your cunt, pressing, splitting, pushing until the bulbous head burst past that tight opening and stayed caught. You gasped, breathing shallow at the impossibly thick intrusion.

He took your hand. He kissed your fingertips, then licked your open palm and guided you, wrapping your little hand around his shaft and leading you in stroking him. He huffed, grunting how good you made him feel.

"Such a good girl for me. Fuck, this pretty pussy can't fit all of me yet, huh? Keep going."

You did your best, eager to please him, eager to be good so he could see how much you loved him being gentle for you. Even with the overwhelming heat of his skin on yours, the press and mix of sweat, you tried following his lead. The initial sting of his penetration had faded and all you wanted was to make him feel good. He had listened to you. When you were hesitant, he had encouraged you to trust in him and in yourself. He challenged you in a good way, knowing you could handle these new touches. Clark had told you he knew what was best for you, and see how he had proven it?

Your heart thundered, but you sped up, gripping him tight. You squirmed as he sucked hard at a nipple, sparking jolts of pleasure through you, making your whine at the way his teeth ran across your softness. He groaned. You felt his muscles under your free hand, contracted with so much pressure like he was holding all of himself back. He tried so hard, all for your sake. You would be good for him.

You felt sore and so tired after, and so safe in his embrace.

He kissed you as you fell asleep. Grateful that you could share this with Clark. He would never make you do anything you couldn't handle.

He held your knees wide apart and gorged himself between your legs. You grew sensitive after his eager mouth suckled and licked you so. When you tried to sit up, uttering his name, he yanked you onto your back and kept taking in your sweet slick. His tongue thrust into you, then one finger pushed in that had you whimpering.

Again, you were at his mercy -- no, you were receiving his love, his passion. He was so good to you. You could be good for him.

You hadn't expected so much of his attention tonight, and couldn't help writhing as he kept at you, kissing your sensitive core raw.

When he sat up, you groaned in relief. Clark dropped soft kisses along your hip, murmuring praise. You would have swooned if you weren't already a puddle of buzzing pleasure.

Tonight, he asked to touch you again just so. He missed you, couldn't get you out of his mind, needed to be close to you. Just the tip again, he said.

Now, you were trapped under him. The tip of his cock had found home in you once more. Just as tight of a squeeze as the first time. You wanted to make him feel good again. Just the tip. You could do it.

He was leaving wet kisses up your breastbone, when you felt another bit of his cock slide in.

You winced.

"You're okay. I got you."

A brief rut had you pressing at the side of his ribs. "...Cla..Ah..."

He licked into your mouth. His big paw captured your hand, holding it down. He flexed his hip and you whined at getting split more and more.

"Feel so fucking perfect," he groaned. He filled you so much now, you sobbed, trying to remind him of his promise, but he kissed you, his gravelly voice unrepentant in your ear.

"Knew you could take it. My good girl."

He drew out and thrust slow and slick into you, again and again. Each time he withdrew you felt your pussy clinging to him and you didn't know how but the heat in your center flared hotter and hotter. There was so much of him to fit in, and he had primed you for it, dripping as you were. But you had not been prepared for this, and there so much, so much of him to take.

Resting his forehead on yours, Clark took up all the space in and around you. He was everything, all that you could feel as his hips met the backs of your thighs.

Your body grew taut, ready to combust. Grinding against you lit up that nub of pleasure and you whined with your release. Seeing you lose yourself in climax drove Clark to a frenzy, hips snapping until you couldn't remember how it felt before he claimed you. He growled into the crook of your neck, holding you tight as he came.

As your mind slowly cleared, he shifted you, laid you out on top of him. You felt his hands all over, stroking down your back, kneading your shoulder, squeezing your bottom. His touch, heavy and warm, lulled you away from how overwhelmed you had felt.

Clark knew all along what was good for the both of you.

-

ok but the hunger games literally did mention it All like… the use of propaganda by the elite as an attempt to divide the minority groups they oppress by making them perceive each other as rivals and prevent them from recognizing and uniting against their real enemy? check. criticism of the way we consume media with no consideration for other people’s privacy like we’re entitled to every detail of their lives and a lack of empathy for their pain because it makes good entertainment? yeah. realistic depictions and explorations of the effects of trauma, particularly that caused by conflict? hunger games has you covered. acknowledgement of the existence of and links between racism and classism, and that conventional standards of beauty are influenced by the societal elite, which people are encouraged to harm themselves in order to conform to (the fact that the weathier people in district 12 are white, blonde and blue-eyed while the coal miner families are mostly people of color; that the two poorest districts, 11 and 12, have majority poc populations; that most people, katniss herself included, consider prim to be prettier than katniss partly because she looks like her white, blonde, blue-eyed mother, who was from the wealthier part of the district; that the first thing that happens to the tributes when they’re taken to the capitol is they they’re “prepped” to conform to capitol beauty standards before they even meet their stylists in ways that literally violate their bodies permanently, and that many of the capitol residents have extreme body modifying surgery that can take a severe toll on their health and wellbeing in the long term)? none of this is accidental, and is both brought up and criticised multiple times throughout the trilogy. the sexualization of minors for adult consumption, especially young celebrities? the fact that politicians in positions of power and authority gain those positions through corruption and by considering anyone harmed in their acension collateral damage? the significance of propaganda and social influence in modern warfare? the misery caused by poverty, which is caused and intentionally maintained by the wealthy elite? the brutal and violating experience of living in a surveillance police state, especially as a member of a minority group and/or poor person? the inherently immoral and corruptive nature of warfare and the military and the unimaginable atrocities and suffering it leads to for ordinary civilians? every YA dystopia novelist tried so hard to be mrs collins but most didn’t even understand half of what went into her books that made them so compelling.

This is beautifully written but the audacity of this man?

Promise Not to Promise Anymore

Pairing: Andy Barber x reader

Warnings: Drinking, mentions of cheating, angst

Word count: 2448

A/N: This is an idea that I’ve been struggling with for a while, I’m so glad I’ve finally been able to get the words to sort themselves out. Special thank you to @krirebr for helping me so much with the process. Without you literally nothing would ever be posted here 😂. (Yes I am aware that I barely post…I’m working on it!) Any feedback that you could leave would be really appreciated. ❤️

The day had been uneventful, boring, normal. But something about the day had your skin crawling. You weren’t sure what had set you off, and yet here you were pacing. Something you only did when you were anxious.

Your phone chirped with another notification, probably one of your socials. Your anxiety had you reaching for it immediately. Seeing the name of your ex pop up on the screen had your stomach dropping immediately. Neither of you had reached out in months. The man who had blustered out of your life as fast as he had blustered in was texting you.

You threw the phone onto the couch without reading the notification. Sure you could find out immediately what he wanted if you actually read the text, instead you screamed into the throw pillow. Your mind began to run with all of the possibilities of why this man would choose now to text you. Did he want money? Was he dying? Was he texting just to let you know how little you meant to him?

The last one, it was definitely the last one.

You stood from the couch and glared at the small black rectangle that had ruined your otherwise boring day. Your phone chirped again, and you physically recoiled from the sound. Deciding a drink would help with whatever it was your ex wanted you dazedly walked to the kitchen. When you opened the fridge, your gaze immediately found the bottle of wine you had bought on a whim on the weekend. Something the lady at the grocery store had recommended since you looked so lost in the wine section. Grabbing the bottle and bypassing a glass was the best way to handle this conversation you decided.

You sat on the couch, taking a long pull from the neck of the bottle before reaching for your phone. Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves you unlocked the phone screen and tapped on the messages icon. There was his name in big bold letters: Andy. You hesitated as your finger hovered over the message, you could see his second message clearly Are you too busy to talk now? Maybe you could just not read it. Or read them and never respond. Or read them and respond later.

You hated every single one of those options, because you knew as soon as you opened these messages you’d be responding immediately. You took another long pull from your bottle, and placed the phone back down beside you. You needed your mind to stop. The thinking, the over-thinking, it was too much. You flipped on the TV to distract yourself and curled up like a cat. Your phone chirped again from under a throw pillow, and you pointedly ignored it.

You weren’t ready to deal with Andy. You had thought when he ended things that you would never hear from him again. Devastated. That was the only word you could use to describe how you felt after he left. You still didn’t even understand why he had ended things, only that he clearly hadn’t felt as strongly as you did about him.

There was another chirp that had you sighing and grabbing for your phone. You had to deal with it, or he wouldn’t stop. That was Andy. You pulled up the messages anticipating at least a double text, but completely unprepared for all the messages he had sent you,

I know this is out of the blue, but I need to speak to you.

Are you too busy to talk now?

Please Honey, I need to talk to you.

It’s important.

Honey…

Of course, the man could double text you, but would refuse to supply what he actually wanted to speak to you about. You typed out several potential responses before deciding on something polite but to the point.

Andy, I can talk. What’s going on?

You didn’t have to wait long for Andy’s equally to the point response.

Can I call you?

You stared at the message for a moment. You knew you couldn’t hear his voice, it would take you right back to where you were. All those months ago when he broke your heart. All the hurt, and the anger, it would be right there.

As you debated what to say, your phone began to ring. The man had absolutely no patience. You stared at his name, and without thinking answered the phone.

“Hello…” You sat and waited for him to say his peace, how bad could it be.

”Honey, I’m sorry.” You shuddered as Andy’s voice came through the phone. You forgot how his deep timbre had always made you feel comforted, and safe, and warm. “How are you doing? I know I shouldn’t be…I don’t…Are you okay?”

You hesitated before you answered. Months ago you would’ve known exactly what to say to Andy to make him feel better. Now it felt like you were talking to a stranger. “I’m fine Andy. Why are you hammer messaging me?”

Andy chuckled lightly, and you smiled at the lilting notes. “You haven’t changed.” Your eye twitched at that comment. “I just, I needed to hear your voice, Honey.”

”So you messaged me repeatedly?” You could hear the annoyance in your tone, which meant that Andy could hear it ten times louder.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done this…” Andy trailed off and sighed. You huffed and pulled the phone away from your ear for a moment so you could murmur your annoyance to yourself.

”Just say it Andy, why did you reach out? Why are we on the phone?” You pulled at the threads on the throw pillow under your arm.

“I miss you.”

You felt the air leave your lungs. You couldn’t have heard him right. He missed you? No, no he was dying, or broke, or literally anything else.

“You-what?” You spluttered out the only thought that came to your mind.

Andy chuckled nervously, “I miss you. I miss your smile, and your laugh. I miss the way your forehead pinches when you’re focused. I miss the way you would take care of me. The moment I ended things? I knew I had made a mistake, and so I told myself that it was kinder to you, to just move on.”

You sat there in silence, shocked at his sudden declarations. “Why, why did you end things? What happened? Andy, I loved you so much, and then out of nowhere you just up and ended things.”

You heard Andy sigh on the other end of the phone. You could picture him scrubbing his hand down his face and scratching at the beard hairs on his chin. His nervous habit. “I got scared, I think.” He chuckled again, “I know it’s not a good excuse…”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s a terrible excuse Andy. What scared you? That I loved you? That I wanted to be a part of your life? Please tell me, what exactly scared you so badly that you ended the best relationship I’ve ever had?”

You slapped a hand over your mouth. You hadn’t meant to let all of that out.

There was a long drawn out silence. “I think it was how strongly I felt about you. I was…scared of what that meant. Before I met you I thought I knew what love was. I was sure I had felt it. But once that feeling truly hit me? I couldn’t actually function.” Andy sighed again, “This isn’t coming out right.”

You took another long pull off of your bottle of wine. You let Andy’s words roll over in your mind. Could he actually be telling the truth? His love for you was so strong that he got scared. It just didn’t seem right, there was something else, there had to be.

“So what you’re saying is, our love was too much for you?” Your tone rang with annoyance and a little bit of desperation. You remembered any time you had tried to get something out of Andy that he didn’t want to tell you, how carefully you’d have to tread, otherwise he would shut down. As much as you wanted to tell him off, end the call and block his number forever. There was still a part of you that needed to know the real reason, so before Andy could respond you continued. “Andy, as much as I love this game of cat and mouse we’re playing, where it’s like pulling teeth to get information out of you,” You heard him softly chuckle on the other end of the line, “I just need the truth, maybe it will hurt me, maybe it won’t but I need it.”

There was a long silence on the line. Although it made you nervous and want to say something to fill it, you sat and sipped on your slowly warming wine while you waited for his response. Your bluntness would have one of two effects: either he would fold and tell you what you wanted, no needed to know, or he would shut down and it would be months, if ever, before you heard from him again.

His heavy sigh preceded his response, “You’re right, and wrong.” He paused as if he was gathering his thoughts. “It is true that the feeling of love between us scared me, but it’s also that it scared me so much that…”

”That what?” You knew what he was going to say, felt it deep within your soul. Your heart was about to be broken by Andy Barber once again, and what was worse, you had practically asked him to do it this time.

”I slept with someone else. It only happened once, but it was before I ended things.”

“I see.” It was all you could get out. You could feel the twisting in your chest again, the anger burning behind your eyes, the tears welling and choking you with their strength.

”I’m so sorry Honey. As soon as it was over I knew I had fucked up. But I also knew if that I couldn’t be with you still, it wasn’t fair to you.” You could hear the pleading in his voice, and it only made the anger burn stronger. Like his words had lit a match and poured kerosene over top.

“So you called me now, to…what? Make yourself feel better?” Your breathing was hard, almost panting in your anger.

”I don’t know why I’m calling. I just know that I’ve regretted that decision ever since. I miss what you brought to my life: the pure joy, the love I could feel down to my core.” Andy’s voice was strained. It was only then that you realized he was crying.

”Are you drunk Andy?” It was the only time you had ever seen him cry, when he had one too many with the boys after work.

”No, I swear. I promise Honey, I haven’t had a drink tonight.”

You took another sip of wine. Contemplating the truth in Andy’s words, the burn of his betrayal. This was just too much.

“Well I’m glad you’ve finally told me the truth Andy. Even if it is months later.” You hugged your throw pillow to your chest as you prepared yourself to say the words that you knew would hurt him as much as they would hurt you. “I can’t forgive you, for any of it. Please, just leave me alone.”

Before you could second guess your decision, you hung up the phone. You stared blankly at the TV screen, not even remembering what you had put on in the first place. What shook you from your reverie was a dull thud from your door. Like someone had just planted their forehead against it.

You stood and quickly crossed the room to check what the noise was. It was only once your hand was on the handle you knew: Andy. You unlocked the door, and twisted the handle slowly, knowing the man who had destroyed you not once, but twice was standing on the other side.

When your eyes connected with his, you could feel all of the love, joy and affection come flooding back. It took everything within you to not jump into his arms and sob until you had nothing left. Instead you gripped the doorframe like it was the only thing holding you up.

”Honey…” Andy’s voice was just above a whisper, so quiet that you weren’t even sure you heard it. His hands reached out and thumbed at the tears quietly streaming down your face. “Oh Honey, I’m so sorry.”

With that he pulled you against his chest. You could smell the high end cologne he wore to work, and the underlying scent of pure Andy. The warmth of his chest and his arms wrapping around your back had you losing all control. You sobbed with abandon into his neck, no words leaving your lips. Andy scooped you up and walked you both into your apartment. Using his foot to shut the door behind him.

He sat down on your couch, with you tucked against his chest and began murmuring quietly to you. You couldn’t make out most of it, but did catch the odd word. “Shh Honey.” “I know, I’m so sorry.” “Just let it out, okay?”

When you finally felt like you could cry no more, you pulled your face from Andy’s neck. You could feel how swollen your eyes were, in fact your whole face felt puffy. “I still don’t forgive you.”

Andy let out a full belly laugh at your meekly spoken words. To which you glared at him and crossed your arms across your chest.

”Okay, okay.” He wheezed in a breath, “I’m sorry Honey. Please just give me a chance to make it up to you. Even if that means I don’t get to feel your love again, let me just try to make this right.”

You reached out and stroked his cheek. Feeling his soft skin contrast with the roughness of his beard. You could see the dark circles under his eyes, see the grayness of his skin. “I need time Andy.”

He sighed, and let his eyes flutter shut. “Of course Honey, whatever you need.”

You reluctantly stood from his embrace, “Please leave Andy, I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

He nodded solemnly. Andy stood, he moved to hug you, but you took a few steps out of his reach. He nodded again before heading for the door.

”Honey?” His back was still to you.

”Yeah?”

”I still love you, more than anything. And I promise to do everything I can to show you that.”

”Andy, maybe we should both promise not to promise anymore.”

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 @krirebr @rebeccapineapple @precious1610 @bval-1 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @thezombieprostitute

𝙄 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮

Summary: Filming different home ✨videos✨ with different characters.

Pairings: Andy Barber x fem!Reader, Steve Rogers x fem!Reader, Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader, Ari Levinson x fem!Reader

Warnings: All smut – filming, blow job, swallowing, thigh riding, cumshot, some spanking (just twice I guess), anal plug use, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampie, 18+

Word count: ~1,500

A/n: Shout out to the lovely anon who gave me ideas for Steve’s part 🥰

♡ ⊹ ° .　˚ 　 𖧷 · 　° .　 ♡ ⊹

Andy Barber

“How do I look?” You tease him, winking right at the phone in his hand, recording you kneeling in front of him.

“Fucking gorgeous.” His free hand moves to rest on your cheek, his thumb ghosting over your lips until you part them enough to take it into your mouth.

Giving him a show already, you suck on his finger, swirling your tongue around, and let him push it further until you gag lightly.

“Better be getting my good angles,” you joke, catching your breath when he pulls his hand away.

“You don’t have bad angles, sweetheart.”

With a lighthearted roll of your eyes, you set your hands on his hips, fingers hooking into the waistband of his briefs. They still there, your lips following to press kisses against his lower abdomen, then trailing lower. His cock twitches at the attention, earning a quiet groan from him and a giggle from you. Another teasing look to the camera and you’re biting your lip, moving back enough to finally pull the fabric down just to let his cock spring free.

You waste no time taking him into your hand, lazily stroking him a few times before leaning in to run your tongue along his length slowly, all while keeping your eyes on him above you.

“Christ, honey,” he groans, watching you through the small screen to make sure he’s capturing it. “Keep going.”

His breath hitches when your lips wrap around the head of his cock, your tongue paying special attention to the sensitive spot on the underside.

Feeling his free hand once again, this time on the back of your neck, you take the hint and begin taking more of him into your mouth. Your hand covers what you can’t handle, moving in time with your mouth.

You moan around him, the vibrations causing his breathing to quicken and an involuntary thrust of his hips. That makes you gag, swiftly pulling your head back but still working him with your hand.

“Do you want me to swallow?” Your question comes out breathless.

It takes him a moment to register what you said, his own mind too hazy to answer coherently. “I– Uh,” he pants, looking down at you. “You don’t have to.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes,” he blurts out, just needing you to keep going.

You double your efforts, pumping your fist quicker until you know he’s on the edge. Opening your mouth, you beg for it. “Give it to me. Please, cum in my mouth.”

It does it for him. A guttural moan rips from his throat, his hips stuttering as his release spills into your mouth.

He watches you as he catches his breath, swallowing everything he gave you, and he curses under his breath.

Sitting back, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, looking up at him once more. “Was that good or do we need to film a take two?”

♡ ⊹ ° .　˚ 　 𖧷 · 　° .　 ♡ ⊹

Steve Rogers

“There’s my pretty girl,” he coos, panning the camera up toward your face. Your hands quickly move to cover it though, your cheeks immediately heating up at the realization of what you’re doing. “Hey, don’t be shy. This was your idea,” he teases. “Look at the camera.”

Slowly lowering your hands, you place them back on his shoulders for support, picking up the pace of your hips again to grind your cunt against his thigh.

Doing your best to offer some eye contact to the camera for him, you can’t help but laugh and turn your face away. Your laugh suddenly turns into a whine though when he flexes his thigh, adding to the pressure against your aching clit.

“Good girl,” he praises when you don’t stop. “Keep going. Look so pretty like this, darling.”

Angling the camera back down to where your core meets his leg, he chuckles, the movement once again making you whimper. “You’re making such a mess,” he points out, referring to the wet spot on his pants. “I’ll have to make you watch this later so you can see it too.”

“Steve,” you whine, partly from dreading the humiliation of that, but also from feeling yourself quickly approaching the edge. “Can I–” You don’t get the question out before letting out a desperate moan.

“You can do better than that.” His tone is teasing as he puts the camera back on your face. “Ask nicely.”

Too focused on chasing your high, you don’t have the chance to be timid. “Please, can I cum?” You’re looking right into the camera this time. “Please, Steve.”

“Let go for me, sweetheart.”

Throwing your head back, your hips jerk against his leg, pleasure washing over you in waves. He stops filming when you fall forward, body slumping against his. He needs both hands free to hold you, rubbing your back gently as you steady your breathing.

“That was really good,” you breathe out, laughing a little.

“That’ll definitely come in handy,” he chuckles. “Good idea, sweetheart.”

♡ ⊹ ° .　˚ 　 𖧷 · 　° .　 ♡ ⊹

Ransom Drysdale

“Fuck,” he breathes out, dropping his face to your neck.

He gives you a minute to come down from your second orgasm tonight before pushing himself off of you and leaning over to grab the phone from where it’s been propped up and filming from the nightstand thus far.

His fingers tapping against your side get your attention, your eyes fluttering open to be met with him holding the phone now, making you the main focus.

“Turn over, babe. Let’s see that pretty ass now.”

Groaning, you turn over onto shaky hands and knees, giving him the perfect view of your ass and the pink heart-shaped jewel on the end of the anal plug he got you.

“Hell yeah,” he marvels, pushing on it, earning a whimper from you. It’s enough to make your arms give out, your face resting against the sheets now. “Good to keep going, babygirl?”

“Yes, please.”

You gasp feeling his cock push back into you. He easily falls back into his rhythm from before, hips slapping against your ass with each thrust.

“You look so fucking good from this angle,” he grunts, punctuating his praise with a slap of his hand against your ass.

“Shit, Ran,” you choke out, gripping fistfuls of the sheets in your hands. Still sensitive from your last orgasm, you feel like you’re right on the edge again.

“What, gonna cum again already?”

“Please,” you whine. “Want you to cum with me.”

He curses under his breath, and his thrusts become harder, determined to make you fall apart again.

“Oh, God–” The trembling of your legs tells him you’re right there.

“Come on,” he pants, slapping your ass one more time. “Give it to me.”

With a scream of his name, you’re hurdling over the edge for the third time, cunt spasming around his cock, and it’s enough to bring him with you. Quickly pulling out, he jerks his cock until his cum is painting your ass, giving him the perfect frame to end the video with.

♡ ⊹ ° .　˚ 　 𖧷 · 　° .　 ♡ ⊹

Ari Levinson

“God, look at you go,” he groans, teasing as he watches you through the screen of his phone, bouncing on his dick.

“Stop,” you whine, but can’t help but laugh. “You’re making me nervous.”

“How am I making you nervous, sweetheart?”

“Do I look okay?”

“You look fucking amazing,” he breathes out. “And the best part is this view is all for me. Only for me.”

Pressing your hands on his chest for leverage, you grind your hips deeper, both of you letting out moans from the new angle.

“Want you to make yourself cum, pretty girl.” His free hand slips down from your hip, his thumb pressing against your clit. Rolling your head back, you cry out his name. “Come on.”

“I’m gonna–” Your own silent moan cuts you off, your vision going dark as you hit your peak.

When your legs begin to quiver, he takes over, thrusting his hips up, chasing his own climax. “Right there with you, baby. Fuck–”

His hips still and his thighs tense as his release spills inside you. Your heavy breaths are the only sound in the room until he asks if you’re ok.

“My legs hurt,” you laugh, dropping your face as you become aware of the camera on you again.

“Here, lift up,” he begins, panning the camera down to where your bodies are still connected. “Up…”

Listening, you slowly push off of him, letting his cock slip out of you, and you whimper. It’s followed by his groan though as he watches his cum drip out of you. “That’s it,” he smirks. He ends the video there, tossing the phone across the bed. “Come here.”

Gently falling forward, you lay on top of him, his arms coming up to wrap around you.

“I can’t believe we did that.”

“We can delete it right away if you–”

“No,” you chuckle, pressing a kiss to his neck. “It’s okay. I kinda want to see it.”

♡ ⊹ ° .　˚ 　 𖧷 · 　° .　 ♡ ⊹

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Virginia Woolf, A Writer’s Diary, August 1921

Whenever I'm passive aggressive and someone says "thank you" I just answer "You're welcome" with the exact same tone... given I also say thank you whenever someone is passive aggressive to me

When people make disparaging comments, just say thank you.

“You’ve gain weight” “Thank you” “…”

Then they have to either settle with being misunderstood or double down and explicitly explain that they were intentionally being unkind.

I work at a church and religious people use coded language to say crummy things in camouflaged/passive aggressive ways. Today someone told me, “that was an…interesting sermon…”

“Thank you.” <smile>

Then I got to watch them squirm as they tried to decide how to respond.

Tl;dnr: when people are passive aggressive, just say thank you.

You are perfect the way you are.  There is no “too much” or “too little” way of being you. 

You are not too loud, you are not too proud, you are not too visible or too obvious or too You. The fervor with which you live your identity is a beacon of light for those who love you. You are not too silent, you are not too secret, you are not too discreet or too tame or too You. The truth of your identity is always carried within you every single day.

You are never wrong in the way that you live your Pride.

Kitty was an hamster in another life

Speedy kitty

(via)