Charities/organisations To Avoid:

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.

The friend may be on to something 👀

The ongoing work saga continues, lovelies. 😂😭 They still can't figure out what's going on with my workload. A friend suggested quitting and becoming a writer full-time. ❤️

Take You Higher

Summary: Most people don't have an assassin waiting for them in the backseat of their car, but it's your lucky day.

Pairing: Assassin!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Almost 3.2k Warnings: E/xplicit s/exual content, unprotected s/ex, car s/ex, p/ossessive behavior, w/eapons, pet names, canon divergent, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) A/N: Nix provided me with a beautiful edit of Bucky and I began a new AU, A Different Call. This is for you, Nix, and I can't wait to share more of this world.❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was later than usual as you made your way toward your car, your gaze darting from left to right before you checked your phone. There was just enough light illuminating the lot where you could see where you were going, but not much else beyond your path. Everyone said it wasn't safe to walk alone at night, but you took your chances. The keys between your fingers made a quick weapon for anyone who got too close. If anyone was dumb enough to put their hands on you, the sting from the brass would be the least of their worries.

It’s almost fun when people underestimate me.

Your gaze moved to the ground before you got to the driver’s side, satisfied that no one was underneath your car as you tucked your phone in your bag. There were no vehicles on either side of yours for anyone to grab you and pull you in. If people had the chance to look inside your head, they might think you’re paranoid. You’d argue you had your own reasons to be. Danger lurked in the darkness, waiting to strike the moment anyone let their guard down.

What people didn't know was that shadows often lingered by the light and the most trustworthy of people wore masks in the form of smiles. You learned to live in the shade and make your own fragments of light. While trusting people didn’t come to you as easily, there were a few you let in. Those who didn’t mind living in the gray.

But according to the one you let in the most, you were the one who brought color into the world.

Glancing at the passenger side seat, you smiled to yourself as you got into the car and locked the door. Normally you reached right for the seatbelt. Tonight, you sat still and took a deep breath. A combination of a sweet and musky fragrance greeted you. It smelled like home.

It was why you didn’t flinch when you felt the muzzle of a gun against the side of your neck.

"Didn't anyone teach you to check the backseat before you get in a vehicle?"

The deep timbre of the voice behind you sent a chill down your spine that settled at the base. Daring to glance at the rearview mirror, you were met with a pair of cold blue eyes and a face framed by long brown hair. His lips were set in a grim line that accentuated the scruff surrounding them. Even with how spacious the back of your car was, he took up a good amount of space with his massive frame.

Death in the form of the most handsome man alive.

James “Bucky” Barnes. A former Army Sergeant turned assassin for S.H.I.E.L.D.’s STRIKE team. Most of the intelligence community referred to him as the Winter Soldier.

You simply called him yours, like he called you his.

"Maybe I’ve been waiting for an assassin to try and take me out. Only for me to flip the script and have him spare my life," you answered, smiling when he pressed the gun a bit harder against your neck. You wondered if he felt your pulse race through the metal. "Maybe even make him fall madly in love with me."

He didn't smile back at your reflection, but warmth filled his eyes in a familiar and tender gaze. "What if this assassin is already madly in love with you?"

You swallowed as he traced the barrel down to your shoulder. "Then I guess I win."

“We both win,” he whispered, sitting back in his seat and taking his gun with him. “Get back here.”

“You don’t want us to drive home?” you asked, though you made no move to put the key in the ignition.

“I said get back here,” he growled, your heart beating faster. You knew what that tone meant. You’d be lucky if you were able to walk tomorrow. “Now.”

Huffing playfully when you caught his narrowed eyes in the mirror again, you still decided to push just a little. “Bossy. Give me a second so I can- Bucky!”

You weren’t sure how he managed, but he moved your seat back far enough to grab and pull you beside him. And he managed to put his gun away before you collided with him. It didn’t surprise you though. Your man had multiple skills and was likely pent up from waiting in your car. You were pent up, too.

“Missed you,” he whispered, forcing you to straddle him.

When he framed your face with calloused hands, you expected him to pull you in for a kiss. But his eyes searched yours for a moment and you knew he was committing you to his memory once more. The love of your life had his head messed with a long time ago to the point where he lost control of his own actions and memories. While he was in a better place now, you never questioned when he needed to look at you for a second longer than usual.

If gazing at me grounds you, I’ll let you stare forever.

“I missed you, too,” you breathed, moaning when he finally brought his lips to yours and parted them with his tongue.

You didn’t realize how fast your heart was racing until Bucky slid a hand to your chest, teasing your breast through the fabric. Knowing he was back home with you was both a comfort and a sigh of relief. In the line of work the two of you were in, the promise of tomorrow was never one you could make. It made each moment that much more precious.

“Not gonna make it another minute without being inside you,” he warned you, shoving your dress up to your hips and careful to avoid the knife strapped to your thigh. You wore the garment, and the weapon he gave you, with the expectation he’d be home today. “Tell me you need me.”

“I always need you, Bucky,” you said, grinding your hips in a slow rhythm. Your barely clad pussy rubbed against the bulge in his jeans and it was enough to make his head fall back. “You need to be inside me? Need to feel my pussy around your big cock?”

“Yes. When we get home, I’ll make love to you,” Bucky snarled, making you gasp when he grasped your underwear and tore it from your body. “But I need to fuck you first, so be good and take my cock out.”

You rubbed yourself against the front of his jeans again to leave a wet spot before you raised your hips. “You better not be hurt,” you teased, but your eyes flashed in a warning as you unbuckled his belt.

“You’re free to check me when we get home. After we're in bed,” he offered, bringing a hand to your face again so you’d look into his eyes. No one ever looked at you with such devotion until he came into your life. “But I’m okay."

In a world full of lies, you trusted him completely.

"If you're okay, I'm okay," you whispered, wasting no more time as you unzipped his pants and reached inside his underwear. The size of him never ceased to amaze you. It also left you in awe how hard he felt in your hand when you wrapped your fingers around him. You might not make it another minute either without him inside you.

If anyone walked by and happened to look in the window, they’d get quite a show. At least before Bucky got his gun out and pointed it in their direction. The man would be able to find a way to shoot someone and fuck you at the same time.

"Take me in," he ordered, gripping your hips as you guided him to your waiting hole. "Please."

Bucky wasn't desperate or a man who begged. But the strain in his voice and the raw need that shone in his eyes, it told you how much he needed you. It was a heady feeling to bring the often cold assassin to the brink. It was also an honor that he trusted you when he let those walls down.

"God," you moaned as you sank down agonizingly slowly, locking eyes with him as you did as he ordered and took him into you inch by inch. It didn't matter that he didn't stretch you first. The sting was one you welcomed since you both asked for it. Who cared if you were a little sore tomorrow when you knew he'd take good care of you?

He exhaled as he allowed you a moment to adjust. It wouldn't be long until he rolled his hips up. "Only name I want you to speak is mine. Because if there is a god here tonight, it's me."

Bucky may not be a god in the literal sense, but he had been the beginning of your salvation. You walked beside him when he offered his hand. It was the path you were meant to take.

And you had almost forgotten how good it felt to have him inside you.

"Then fuck me properly, Bucky," you said, kissing him again because you could.

A low and dark grunt rumbled against your lips as he moved beneath you. Your body enveloped him in a tender and heated embrace, welcoming him home. He'd encourage you to ride him and match his pace shortly. For now, you savored every thrust of his cock, thick and bare, nothing separating you. Both of you preferred it that way.

"Ride it. Show me how much you missed me," he groaned after a minute, bringing a strong hand to the back of your neck. Your heart raced as you watched his eyes darken more. "Look at me. Don't you fucking look away."

A whimper fell from your lips, eager to please him as you braced yourself on his shoulders and raised your hips. The slow slide of his cock along your slick walls felt heavenly before you moved back down. You'd bounce on his cock all night if he let you. "So full," you moaned, never wanting to be empty again.

“Still tight no matter how many times I fuck you,” he said, licking his lips as he leaned back against the seat. The slight shift in the angle had him pushing deeper inside you and you weren’t ashamed of the loud cry you let out. “Perfect pussy and it’s all mine.”

You clenched around him at his words, your body tingling as you fucked yourself on his cock. He met you halfway, a subtle indication that you were equals and partners. Two halves of a whole. Living, breathing proof that soulmates existed in some capacity.

A reward for the hell you both went through.

“I need you to come in me,” you begged, shuddering when the head of his cock brushed your g-spot. Unduliated pleasure rippled from head to toe as he swore in Russian. His release dripping out of you later would serve as a beautiful reminder of his claim. He had every part of you. “Please. I've been so empty without you."

"I need you to come on it first,” he groaned, fucking up into with enough force that you had to grip his shirt to hold on. You weren't just heading toward your climax. He was going to catapult you there. “Give it to me and I’ll give it to you. Come. Make a mess all over me.”

Bucky gripped your chin before your head could fall back, making sure you stared in his eyes as you came. Your pleasure belonged to him and you accepted that as you shivered through your orgasm, unashamedly gushing around him. Your pussy was exceptionally greedy when it came to him and you weren’t ready to come down from the high just yet.

“That’s it. Give me everything,” he demanded, holding you still so he could thrust deep and chase his own release. Your walls twitched, the wet, sucking sound adding to the addition of your soft moans and his grunts. You gave it all and were ready to take everything he gave you in return.

“Give it to me, too, Bucky," you pleaded through the haze. "I can take it.”

He pressed his forehead to yours as he moaned your name, holding you close as he spilled inside you. Bringing a hand up to grip his hair as his hips stilled, you smiled as he let out another moan. You breathed heavily before giving him a peck on the lips, smiling wider as he began to catch his breath. His eyes always took on a gorgeous shade of blue when pleasure clouded them.

“Welcome home,” you exhaled, trying to move beside him.

“Wait,” he whispered, firmly bringing your hips back down and keeping him around his thick thighs. You gasped at the friction against your clit, your body wanting more already. “Just. Stay like this.”

He buried his face against the side of your neck, nosing along your skin as he evened out his breathing. It was almost a ritual when he came back from an assignment to hold you this way. If you weren’t in your car, your clothes would have been torn to shreds or thrown on the floor. Which you fully expected once he drove you home.

And you would make him drive since he decided to ambush you in the best possible way.

“You sure you’re okay?” you whispered after a minute, his arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace. "Nothing went wrong on your assignment?"

“It went off without a hitch,” he answered, mouthing at your pulse. “It's just getting harder to be away from home. Away from you.”

The slight vulnerability in his tone made you pause before your fingers gently combed through his hair, your heart still beating fast. You didn't have a home until the two of you made one together. “I get it,” you whispered.

Before you, Bucky didn’t mind most of his missions. That changed once he took you under his wing. It comforted him to have someone else watching his back. But the rare assignments he had to take alone, he liked them less and less as time went on. He hated being away from you.

It pained you, too.

You whined in surprise when he bit down hard on the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “You didn’t look in the backseat. Why not?"

The post orgasm bliss faded at the slight growl in his tone, yet aroused you all over again.

"Because Steve gave me a heads up that he saw you before I went into the parking lot and I checked the motion detector on my car through my phone,” you told him as his tongue soothed the sting. He could avoid being seen, so he likely wanted his best friend or you to spot him. You were all careful otherwise. "You also left me the all clear signal on the passenger seat."

Spotting the bouquet tied with a single blue ribbon before you got in the car, you knew it was safe to get in and that he was waiting for you. He bought Peruvian flowers for you on your first date and chose them because of the beauty and color. He said that you brought those things back into his life. It became a signal for the two of you, as well as a token of affection.

Maybe one day, I'll have his last name as the ultimate sign of devotion.

Bucky always had those specific flowers for you when he returned from a mission and often bought them for you just because he wanted to. And if a day ever went by that he didn’t have the flowers upon coming home, or if the flowers were out of the ordinary, you’d know something was wrong. You had your own signals for him, too.

“That punk,” he said, kissing back to your lips. “He's lucky he's my friend. I wanted to surprise you."

He could count on less than one hand how many people he loved and trusted. You and Steve were two of the very few. It was only natural that the S.T.R.I.K.E. member and former Captain kept an eye out for you and vice versa. Someone important to Bucky was important to you.

Not to mention, Steve was a good man. It seemed like there weren't many left in the world. You saw why your lover respected him and called him a friend.

“And just when have you managed to surprise me?" you asked.

"The first time we saw each other face to face," he replied.

The day he was supposed to kill you.

“That's true," you agreed after a beat. "You don’t regret choosing to save me?”

Bucky pulled back with the softest smile on his face as your heart swelled in your chest. The look of love in his eyes nearly stole the oxygen from your lungs. His thumb brushed your cheek and it shocked you when he wiped away a tear. You didn’t know it had fallen.

“I regret a lot of things in my life, but you will never be one of them,” he assured you, kissing the spot where he brushed away your tear. “I’ll never regret loving you, Kitten.”

You raked your fingers softly along his scalp. He called you that before the two of you fought and the nickname stuck. You didn’t mind it. Your stealth, flexibility, and reflexes were catlike at times. He picked up on those things immediately.

“And I’ll never regret being yours, Killer," you swore. He'd never let anyone else call him that. "Or loving you.”

You understood the assassin better than most. To some degree, you knew what it was like not to be in control. Choices were taken away from you. People used the two of you for their gain, but he helped put you on a path of hope.

All because he made a different call that fateful day.

“Put your claws away,” he groaned when you moved your nails along his head again, making him rock inside you. His stamina drove you wild. “Or we’ll have round two here instead of in our bed.”

“But you promised you’d take me home and make love to me.”

"And I will, but I may need to ruin you here one more time,” he smirked, slipping his tongue into your mouth before you could argue.

If he wants to use sex as a weapon, I’ll happily accept every wound.

Before the night was over, he took you home and made love to you as he promised. He held you so close against him that it was as if you shared one breath. He even watched you as you fell asleep, an unexpected fear gripping him. In the back of his mind, he sensed that someone was still out there waiting to take you away from him.

But if anyone ever tried, he'd burn the word down to save you all over again.

Let's hope no one is dumb enough to go after Kitten. Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ KoFi

!!!!

missionary is truly an intimate position. okay some freaky bitches shit on it because it is so "vanilla" but the beauty of being face to face, watching your lover make those expressions, having to witness the vulnerability is just so romantic. when your lips crash because you just can't take how pretty they look. when your foreheads meet, nose brushing as they thrust. when your fingers intertwine, holding onto each other like the world is ending tomorrow and you don't want to let go. and if the world does end, you wouldn't regret dying as two souls in each other's embrace.

The authorities of the Islamic Republic of Iran have started to arrest prominent public figures. Not just journalists and activists, but also actresses, singers, athletes who supported the protests via their social media are now in danger of arrest.

The regime is desperate.

They are aware that their already declining economy is hit and made even worse due to the long daily internet shutdowns. Imagine you're unable to write emails at work or access your webshop. The Iranian government can't keep shutting down the web forever.

But the moment they reboot internet access the people in Iran will connect for more action and people outside of Iran will see what's happening.

Meanwhile, protests, strikes and civil disobedience are still taking place all over the Iran.

Fiction get its inspiration in reality, reality inspires itself in fiction. It just makes sense that we can trust some parts of fictional stories, because something might actually happen!

But then, you have to wake up! You have to grow up and stop believing everything will be alright because in stories does, you grow up thinking bad things happen to bad people and if you good you will be rewarded by fate. But then, reality comes and it hits you hard.

One day you wake up and you understand that your good deeds didn't take you to your better half, they didn't lead you to a happy job where you are congratulated by being a good worker. No!

Fiction failed me, not only because it lied to me about my happy ending before my thirties with my soulmate but it failed me also because good people not always get good things, bad people not always suffer the consequences of their actions. Karma isn't real, the world is, the physical things are.

Reality is real, fiction it is not but I no longer see the inspiration they used to share! The world is getting rotten because dreams keep on dying, because people keep on thinking on ways to survive instead of ways to live.

Fiction is like a Greek goddess everyone can applaud to her beauty, but she will never completely protect you because like all Gods fiction is also egotistical they sell dreams but never tell you they're impossible!

Fiction has failed me and I can't forgive her for it, I just can't seem to find that sympathy on me to forgive her, or maybe I can't just find within myself a way to forgive myself for believing on her!

Churches got a whole new appeal

Sanctuary

Pairing: Robert Pronge x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2,265 Summary: You weren't seeking refuge because you almost died, you were seeking refuge because of him.

Warnings: AU. Explicit language. Explicit sexual content. Demon!Robert. Soft!dark elements. Paranormal elements. Dub con. Sex in a church. Vaginal fingering. Telepathy. Unprotected sex. Lots of cum, sorry not sorry lol.

A/N: I want to try to get out some spooky/supernatural fics this month, so let's start by revisiting Deal with the Devil!Freezy, shall we?

You were never much for religion, but after your attack, and the way you had almost died, you found yourself sitting in the small, dimly lit church on the end of a rundown city block within walking distance of your apartment quite frequently.  

It wasn't some kind of subsequent faith that you now had after you survived that led you here, it was because you had survived, and the way in which you did.

It was because of him.

The stranger who had saved your life. 

You remembered the satisfaction in his dark, inhuman gaze as he had tasted your blood before drinking from your lips.

You remembered the unnatural flavor of sulfur that had lingered in your mouth for days after the kiss.

And you couldn't seem to escape the way he kept appearing in your dreams, reminding you that you were his now, that you owed him.

You weren't sure what that debt could possibly be or lead to, but you were certain that you didn't want to find out.

So you weren't paying homage to a miracle whenever you came to church, you were a terrified survivor seeking refuge.

Tonight was no different as you sat a few pews back from the church altar, tugging at the gold cross pendant around your neck as you stared off into the distance without seeing, enjoying a few moments of quiet, solitary sanctuary.

And then he spoke from behind you.

"If you were hoping you could hide from me here, sweetness, sorry to burst your bubble."

His voice was rough–almost ragged somehow–the gravelly sound making all your hair stand on end as you went rigid in your seat.

He leaned forward, his breath warming the nape of your neck before he suddenly snuffled along your skin, his nose dragging up the arc of your throat until he was inhaling along the delicate hollow just behind your ear, making you whimper.

You went to launch yourself from your seat, but one heavy hand of his on your shoulder, his fingers curling hard enough to make you whine in pain, kept you in place and enduring the way his teeth nibbled on your earlobe. 

Tears gathered in your eyes, and you were trembling so hard that you dropped your purse. Your head dipped to follow its descent, but suddenly a big, rough hand was gripping your throat and tipping your head back until your cheek was sliding against the stranger's and you shuddered at the soft scrape of his facial hair along your skin.

"What do you want from me?" you whispered, a few tears finally escaping as you stared up at the church ceiling.

A husky laugh rushed past your cheek before he spoke his reply against your ear, "Think I can come up with something."

Between one blink and another, you were gone from your seat and suddenly in one of the dark, empty back hallways of the church. You were far away from the main space, from other people, your frantic mind trying to comprehend how you got here without moving, and so quickly, too.

Those thoughts were lost to you as the stranger pressed you against the wall, his body sinking flush against yours as he gently mouthed along the side of your throat, pausing at your pulse point and dragging his rough tongue over the fluttering spot.

"Please," you choked out, turning your face away and squeezing your eyes shut, not wanting to meet that unnatural gaze of his that had been seared in your brain since that night.

"Already did you one favor, honey, you sure you wanna make it two?" he teased.

As silence stretched on between you, his hand dropped along your body, shifting your sweater up and out of the way until he could thumb at the raised scar on your stomach, the mark that had been with you ever since that night in the alley.

It was instant, the way the warm drag of his skin over yours had a flash of agonizing pain shooting through you, the contact stealing your breath away completely as you went rigid and clenched your teeth against a scream.

"Promise what I want will feel much better than that," he husked against your ear.

He pulled back to watch the terror flashing in your gaze as you stared at him in horror like it was his favorite TV show, a wicked grin curling his lips as he basked in your distress. 

He held your gaze the entire time he worked open the front of his pants before doing the same to yours. When you struggled just a little, trying to shove him away, he encircled your throat in his massive hand and squeezed hard enough to cut off your airflow, his teeth bared in a sneer and his eyes twinkling with victory as you whimpered and went still against him.

As you surrendered to him and his dark desires.

You jerked at the first touch of his fingers to your bare cunt, your panties and work slacks bunched around your knees as this terrifying stranger pet along your most intimate parts like he had every right to.

"I do," he murmured. 

He smirked as your eyes went wide at the way his words were in reply to your thoughts.

Then he slowly sank two fingers into you as he husked, "I told you the cost of saving your life that night, that you're mine now." He licked at your parted lips as his fingers plunged deeper and rubbed. "And so is this cunt."

You couldn't help the sound that fell past your lips, the love child of a moan and a whine, and you weren't sure if was because what he was doing–how he was touching you–actually felt good, or because your body was betraying you by growing so sinfully wet at his wicked touch.

"There you go, sweet girl," he breathed against your lips, his fingers railing you harder. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

You tried to turn your face away instead of answering, but his grip on your neck just tightened, keeping you in place–trapped in his gaze–as he played with your pussy until your insides began to flutter and your thighs started to quake with your impending orgasm.

Just as you felt the first wave of your release cresting, his fingers retreated from your greedy hole, and a disappointed whine got trapped in the back of your throat.

He winked at you before gripping his hard cock in the hand he had just used to work you over, humming as he smeared your juices down the long, curved length of him.

You stared down between your bodies, feeling your cunt clench at the sight of his cock - you'd never seen one so big before, and curved like that, white droplets of pre-cum oozing from the crown as he slowly stroked and squeezed himself in preparation.

When he took a moment to yank off your panties and pants entirely, taking your ballet flats with them as he kicked everything a few feet away, you didn't even resist, in some kind of lust-addled state and desperate to know what that big, thick cock of his felt like inside of you.

"You're about to find out, sweetness," he laughed. 

His free hand dropped to your leg, gripping your thigh and hitching it up around his waist, opening you up for him as he took his weeping cock in hand and slowly filled you up right there against the wall. 

Your hand shot out to grip his shirt, your fingers fisting in response to the slow stretch and burn that was his cock plunging its way inside you for the first time, until your eyes were rolling back in your head, and your back bowed at the invasion.

"Mmm, fuck, that's it," he purred, giving a few rocks of his hips until he was bottoming out and you were gasping sharply at just how deep he was inside of you. 

Dazed, you blinked at him, a distant part of you registering the way his eyes were entirely black now as he gazed at you, and you weren't sure if you clenched around him hard in fear or excitement that someone was looking at you like that.

Like they could not wait to fucking eat you alive.

Another husky laugh fell from his lips as he said, "Oh, honey, that's the understatement of the century."

And then he started to move.

The first retreat of his cock was slow–almost careful–that inhumanly dark gaze watching you avidly as he departed just enough to leave the mushroom head of his cock stretching your hole before sinking back into you slow and deep enough to take you up to your tiptoes.

You squeaked at the invasion, your thighs already trembling, and he grinned at you. His pace picked up until he was gripping the undersides of each of your thighs in one of his hands as he fucked you against the wall hard enough to have you gasping and whining and whimpering with every snap of his hips.

And it didn't go unnoticed by you, how every single time one of those noises escaped you, you could feel his cock throb inside of you. 

The latest round of this sinful give and take made you moan as you clutched him closer and started rocking against him just as hard–just as desperately–as he was moving inside of you.

"Fuck," he laughed breathlessly, amused by your enthusiasm as a glimmer of red flashed through his eyes. "You may just be my favorite indebted yet, sweetness. Haven't felt a cunt this good in a long time. And you're so fucking into it too, you sweet little slut. Really hit the jackpot with you, huh?"

Whining at his words and the way they had your insides clenching and pulsing, you dropped your head back against the wall, feeling the peak of your pleasure closing in quickly.

"Oh no, honey, keep those pretty eyes open and fixed on me, wanna see that fucked out look as you cum for me."

Your eyes blinked open, glassy as you fisted his shirt tighter, your breath catching in your chest as that tightly wound coil deep inside of you finally, blessedly snapped.

You gave a sharp cry of pleasure as your body went taut before your orgasm rushed through you, gasping and moaning as you rocked against his cock, wanting to feel him even more than before, deeper and harder and owning you completely.

"Mmm, I can do that," he purred, dropping his forehead to yours, gripping your thighs tighter, and hammering into you without relent as you rode out your first orgasm before quickly descending into your second.

"Oh god," you cried, slinging an arm around his neck to hold on for dear life as he let loose and started going at you even harder, like a man possessed. 

"Not quite," he panted, splitting you open with one hard, deep rut of his cock after another. "Not even close, actually."

And it was the raspy, wicked husk of his laugh that had you cumming one final time, your body trembling and clenching, rattling with another powerful wave of ecstasy as your pussy rejoiced to be so full and so thoroughly, thoroughly fucked.

"Mmmm, god, that's it, fuck me," the stranger groaned, the next thrust of his cock going impossibly deep and lingering as you felt an unnaturally warm bloom of heat within you. 

Another soft gasp fell from your lips as his next thrust had another hot wave flooding your insides, and you could feel it, the unnatural heat and volume of his spend as he continued to pump you full of it with one eager rut of his cock after another. 

Just when you thought he was done, he sank against you, his face burrowing against the crook of your neck before you felt the sharp pierce of his teeth and a white hot flash of pain as he bit you, just hard enough to draw blood that he could lap at as he rode out his own orgasm with a few final snaps of his hips. 

The unexpected pain had another small orgasm rocking through your pussy, and he laughed against your neck as he felt it, groaning as you milked his cock and sent some of his cum leaking out of your overstuffed cunt and dripping down his balls.

Once his breathless pants died down, he pulled out of you with a satisfied hum, guiding you back to your feet and smirking at the way you wobbled and sagged back against the wall, your sweater rucked up your stomach and his ample amount of cum leaking down your thighs.

He watched you as he slowly redid his clothes, seeming unbothered by tucking away his still messy cock before shooting you a wicked grin. He stepped close, eyes sparkling as your breach caught and you stared up at him in a mixture of fear and awe. 

"You can keep coming here if you want, sweetness," he murmured, gently stroking your warm cheek with his knuckle. Then he leaned in close, so his next words filled your ear, "But really, at the end of the day, and especially after this, you should be worshiping at my altar."

Grinning, he pulled back and stole an obscenely thorough kiss from your parted lips. Then he shot you a wink, disappeared before your eyes, and left you standing there half-naked with his cum cooling on your thighs and the copper tang of your own blood staining your tongue.

WAIT. I KIND OF LOVE THIS?? 

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