#//this is shit and purely gif inspired

[draqu1a]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ A RISKY STREAM . . .

— what kind? : SMUT — warnings : sexual&suggestive content ahead , viewers discretion is adviced , MDNI .

• fic inspired by : @bernardsbendystraws

The neon glow of Matt's gaming rig painted your face in shifting hues as you gripped the controller. "Chris, you seeing this shit?" you yelled into the headset.

Chris, cackled from the other end of the Discord call, his voice echoing through your head set. "Nah, I'm too busy carrying your sorry ass! You are trash tonight."

"Shut up," you retorted, trying to focus on the digital firefight unfolding on the screen. You were sat down on Matt's lap, his arms wrapped loosely around your waist, ostensibly to "guide" your gameplay. But tonight, his guidance was… almost distracting.

"Focus, babe," Matt murmured, his breath ghosting against your ear. "There's a guy flanking you on the left."

Easy for him to say. He wasn't the one with a hand slowly inching its way under their shared blanket, sending shivers down your spine that had nothing to do with the game.

"I see him, I see him," you muttered, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through your core. Your fingers fumbled on the controller, your carefully constructed fort crumbling under a harsh wave of digital bullets. "Fuck!"

"Language, sweetheart," Matt whispered, his fingers now tracing the curve of your hip, dangerously close to your core. A little squeeze to your hip. The digital bullets blurred. You died.

"God damn it!" you hissed, partially peeling off your head seat . "I’m trying to concentrate here, Matt."

He just grinned, his eyes dark and knowing. "Am I distracting you, baby?"

"Maybe a little," you admitted, trying to inject some playful exasperation into your voice. “Chris thinks we are loosing on purpose.”

Chris’s voice boomed through the speakers. “What was that? Did I hear you two lovebirds finally admit you're throwing the game?"

Matt chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated against your back. "Nah, man, just… strategizing. Right, babe?" His fingers continued their torment, dipping lower and closer with each minute passing by.

"Yeah, strategizing," you managed, your voice a little breathless. You reached for your water bottle, hoping the cool liquid would take out the sudden heat flooding the inside of your body.

"Okay, well strategize faster! We're about to get wiped," Chris complained, oblivious to the silent battle happening beneath the blanket.

Matt leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. "He doesn't need to know how we strategize," he murmured, his fingers now finding the edge of your shorts and dipping below the waistband. "Does he, baby?"

"Matt, stop," you pleaded, even though a part of you was begging him to continue. The chat if they would find out, would go absolutely crazy, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. Focus was a blur.

"Stop what? Helping you relax?" he teased, his touch becoming bolder, more insistent. A gasp escaped your lips as his fingers traveled beneath your flimsy lace panties, going right where you needed him the most.

"Dude, are you even listening?" Chris yelled. "There's a whole squad pushing us!"

"—Uh, yeah, Chris. We're on it," Matt said, his voice a little strained. He was watching you, not the screen. His eyes held a promise of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

His fingers slipped inside of your already drenched entrance. You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan. The game, Chris, the chat – it all faded into a distant hum. All that mattered was the electrifying sensation building within you, the relentless pressure, the exquisite torture.

"Matt…" you whispered, your voice thick with desire.

"Almost there, baby," he breathed, his thumb pressing down on your sensitive clit while his slender fingers drive out of you with increasing speed and skill. "Just a little more…"

Chris's voice was a distant drone. "Hey, guys! What the hell are you doing? We're already dead!"

You didn't hear him. You couldn't hear anything but the pounding of your own heart, the ragged sound of your own breath, and the soft, satisfied sigh that escaped your lips as pleasure finally overwhelmed you, your gummy walls clenching down and sucking matt’s fingers in deeper as they soaked his digits in your liquids.

The screen went black. Your avatars returning to the main menu as the result of you dying and receiving a low score.

“Kid, I’m out for the night. Try to improve those shitty skills cuz tonight was not it.” Chris announces, taking off his head set before ending the discord call, before you decide to follow along.

Peeking off your own head set and muttering a quick goodbye to the stream, quickly ending the live stream to not raise any further suspicion on what you two were doing the whole game.

"Finally, I now got you all to myself," Matt said, pulling away slightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Now, where were we?"

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹🃜 . yappin claudia : second fic on this account :pp, I don’t know how to feel bout this exactly xd but wtv .

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹🃜 . taglist : @strnilolover @ifwdominicfike @courta13 @sturns-mermaid . . . .

[bernardsbendystraws]

����𝒐𝒍𝒍 .ᐟ 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

⚠︎  pure fluff, cuddling, anxiety, boyfriend matt

⤷ Get to reading, sluts. No copying. Ask if you’d like to use this as ‘inspiration.’ Fuck off and fuck me, lets get horny!!!

matt’s favorite toy, Rose

©bernardsbendystraws

“Ah—shit,” Matt spits. He stares at his PC, viciously moving his fingers on the controller while whispering out curses under his breath. You were tired—exhausted, even. The day had dragged out longer than it should’ve. Hanging out with friends was supposed to be fun—and it was. Up until you laid down and in bed and overanalyzed every word you had said. You just wanted him, but your lips wouldn’t open to spill out that confession—not when you knew he might’ve had a long day too and this was his release. 

Minutes feel like hours. Your body won’t relax, not when you feel so…bad. Anxiety feeds into your insecurities. The joy you had felt being with your friends has faded into regret. Nothing was worth this feeling. Why did you even bother trying? 

“Fuck—,” Matt yells, punching his fist down on the desk. The dumb mess up had cost him a lot of progress in his game. He flinches realizing his mistake—remembering you’re in his bed, probably asleep. 

Taking a quick peep over his shoulder, Matt furrows his eyebrows while analyzing your face. “Am I keepin’ you up? I’m sorry, doll. I’ll…I’m gonna keep it down—” He lets the words fall into the air. A slight shrug from your end tells him enough—something isn’t okay. Your eyes showed no trace of sleep, only frustration. 

“Hey,” he calls out. You let your eyes daze into Matt’s. His soft expression falls into worry as he quickly shuts off his game. Wandering over towards the bed, he sits on the edge of the mattress, pulling your head into his lap as his fingers trace through your hair. “What’s going on, sweetheart?” 

What is going on? You don’t even know—not enough to actually explain it anyhow. “I…it….I don’t know, really. I, um—I had fun with my friends. We caught up and everything, but…” 

“But?” Matt encourages. 

The question seems to affect you more than you’d like. Saying it outloud feels relieving—but it also feels like too much. “It’s…I just can’t stop thinking, I guess.” 

It’s only a couple simple words, but Matt can read every subtle movement in your face. He just knows—a little too well. 

“I get that. I…I’m sorry, doll. I’m here for you, okay? Why don’t we just cuddle and talk, yeah?” he offers, moving around to lay on the bed and pull you into his chest. 

You sigh at the warmth, your head starts to pulse a little less with racing thoughts and pulling you back to reality. He’s grounding you. An anchor that makes you feel like you’re a part of reality, not just watching from a lens. It’s real. You’re here. 

“You’re so warm,” you mention. 

Matt lets out a soft laugh at your remark, pulling you in just a little closer. “Yeah? Good. I…I love holding you like this, ya know?” 

The frown on your lips slowly curls upward, a soft grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I…I love it too,” you breathe out. 

It’s all so warm—so comforting. The bed seems to let the weight of your bodies sink in further, tangled limbs and soft touches creating a shield from the cold air prickling tainted thoughts into your mind. You’re here. You’re here in his arms. You’re safe. 

You wanna say it. Those three words settle on the brink of slipping as you let yourself drown in the feeling of it—love. It’s almost as if he can sense it, or maybe it’s just because he feels it. 

“I love you. So much.” His voice is melodic as he breathes out the words. It’s enough encouragement to put your mind at ease. It’s enough to make you sink completely into the feeling instead of letting your mind overpower your heart. 

“I love you.”

Thank you for reading!!! Any interaction is deeply appreciated <333

[4milly]

that back. |R.R|

heyyyyyyyy. this is dedicated to @harmshake for inspiring me. love ya twin. ty always <3 ty for getting me out my funk and inspiring me.

and @shes2real. loveeeeeee ur fics. gotta go check em out if you haven’t.

warnings: pure smut. no plot. nun. just freakayyyyy. no one under 18.

parings: roman reigns x black!reader

“ah!” your fresh manicured white toes popped as your leg laid over your man’s shoulder

“i know, babygirl, i know…” he sighed into your neck as his hips continued to snap towards your pussy, “been a good girl all day for me…gotta give my baby her reward.”

roman loved being vocal during sex. he loved making your head spin and your heart swell with his words making you speechless. well…you were already speechless but yk what i mean.

he grabbed you other leg hiking it up further around his waist allowing you to feel him deeper, “why are y—you fucking me like this?” you strain latching your hand onto his back, digging ur nails into it attempting to relive the pressure in your center

“why not? tight ass pussy always ready for me. you hear her crying for me? let me show her daddy’s home.”

squelching noises echoed from around the room. you could feel yourself dripping down roman’s dick right onto the bed sheets creating a wet spot. your pussy swollen and worn out yet still squeezing down on him pulling him back inside for more. he loved you like this for him—a babbling, dizzy, dick drunk mess. you loved it even more.

he pampered you in and out of the bed room; this all starting from coming home to a hot bath waiting with candles and pink rose petals scattered around. you let him wash your body down, an intimate act all too familiar, before his washcloth covered hand got closer towards ur aching pussy—washing rubbing you there letting the heat from the cloth bring you towards your first orgasm of the night. you both quickly took it to somewhere it wouldn’t turn into a slip n’ slide…well?

that familiar feeling for the 4th time tonight pulsed inside your belly again ready to gush out onto your man’s dick.

“shit! You gotta stop scratchin’ me baby…” he hissed before throwing ur legs over his arms, pushing them towards either side of your head

his movements sped him, continuing to dig at your pussy making a mess in the middle of your thighs. bad choice.

you lived for your man’s back. the way his body loomed over yours like a shield felt nearly romantic. and it was beautiful to say the least. you knew if you kept leaving marks, he’d kill you for it in the morning. he’d have to cover up again, which would make him loose out on money. roman knew his fan base, the ladies wanted what they wanted. but fuck those hoes…you’d give them something to stare at for-sure now. you’d carve ur name with your nails if you could.

your nails caved inwards again in his skin dragging all around to relieve both the pain and pleasure your man was creating with the swivel of his hips. the vein in his dick pulsing against ur spot with the new stroke. your hips attempting to buck into the mattress to escape the new rhythm.

“you feel me baby? right in that pussy? right where i need to be, baby. you wetting it up so good baby. i’m not stopping till you cum on it.”

“f-fu-uckkk! i can’t roman, ah!” you sobbed out sinking ur teeth into his shoulder. your pussy clenching and unclenching, his dick desparate to find its hiding place in your pussy.

“why not baby? fuckin’ good ass pussy. gimme what i want, babygirl. get that nut.” he roared into your ear

not for the first time, you felt the white flash behind ur eyes as heat radiated from ur toes right towards your pussy. with a loud whine of incoherent words, your cum gushed out around roman’s still thrusting cock now with a new layer of your cum coating it, fucking your through it. you let out a mixture of screams and sobs as he chased his nut, fucking into you faster, the stimulation becoming too much to bare. your nails scratching roman anywhere it could, clawing at him.

“where can i cum baby? where you want it at?”

“in my pussy..” you whimper out hoarsely

“nah, speak up. Where you want it at, baby? i can come in this pussy? My pussy?”

“in my pussy! fuck! cum in meeee, roman. cum in me, pleaseeee.” you beg with a pout, he leaned down connecting your lips together. his strokes becoming erratic before you felt the long hot spurts of his cum spraying your walls.

“shit! fuck! i can’t stop, baby. ahh!” he moaned in your ear as his thrust slowed down. your breaths both racing to pull it back into your lungs

roman continued to feed you small soft thrust before pulling out. he eased your legs of your shoulders to watch the mixture of your cum oozing out of your pussy and dribble onto the bed sheets. he lowered a thumb to your clit to rub small circles, causing your pussy to convulse and push his cum out in bubbled pools. after, he used his thumb to finger fuck it back into you with a small whimper, he got up to grab a towel to clean you off.

“damn, baby!” you hear him call out from the dark bathroom

“what?” you strain out, still trying to catch your heart rate back to normal

“we gotta invest in some gloves or something for you, when we fuckin’ baby girl.” he reemerged from the bathroom with a towel in hand. you took the time to notice all the bright red scratches that coated his tanned arms, and the teeth marks in his neck. he did a small spin, to show you his back.

he damn near looked fresh out of a TLC match.

“shouldn’t have been fuckin’ me like that than.”

[ramp-it-up]

Cassandra’s Muse

Summary: Your job is to distract and read all who dare to go against Cassandra. And you take pride in your work

Word count: 2.5 K

Pairing: Deadpool x Reader; Wolverine x Reader; Johnny Storm x Reader; Deadpool x Wolverine x Johnny Storm x Empath Reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. S MUT Not Beta’d. DEADPOOL X WOLVERINE SPOILERS AHEAD of this line!Read at your own risk. S MUT! Morally Grey reader, sex worker reader, reader is an empath, lots of dark emotions, group sex, oral (m & f receiving) pansexual touch and intentions (it's Deadpool, folks) explicit sex acts, raw p in v (wrap it up), anal sex (f receiving) rough sex, dvp, squirting, copius amounts of cum, bukakke, after care. Reader has pet names from each hero: Sweets, Sweetie, Sweetheart.

A/N: Ok. I had to do it. If you inspired this, you know who you are, you menace. 😘 This occurs within an imagined scene between the scene where Pyro captures Johnny, Wade and Logan and when they were delivered to Cassandra Nova. This is pure filth. Let me know you like it by liking, commenting and reblogging!

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

————

“Let me put your hair up for you. So pretty.”

Wade Wilson cooed down at you to the music of his shackles clinking as he gently pulled your cloud of hair up and out of the way. 

“Need to have a clear view of you hoovering that anaconda.”

Your lips were stretched around Johnny Storm’s thick, tan cock as his blue eyes stared down at you and a steam of eloquent pornography flowed from his lips.

“Mm. That throat is so gatdamn tight Sweetheart. Can’t wait to fuck that tight little wet gash of yours. Holy shit, that’s good. I know you can take it deeper. I know you can. Such a sweet little innocent slut for us.”

He had no idea. You were in service to Cassandra. She called you her muse, a tool to service her future victims so that when she felt their minds up, she had something more to get off on. You were her little slut, her psychic empath who fed off of other’s joy and you loved your job.

Giving others joy got you off something fierce. The fact that Cassandra loved it and that kept you alive was an added bonus.

Johnny’s hand snaked around the back of your neck to encourage you to take more of him. You looked up at him, eyes wide with tears streaming down your cheeks, while saliva escaped from your stretched-out lips.

“So pretty for us like this, Sweetie.”

Wade’s mask almost seemed to be emotive as he looked down on you, his long fingers fisting his cock with increasing speed as he watched you take Johnny down. It was disconcerting that he was completely naked except for his mask, but that was none of your business. He was sincere, despite the sarcastic monologue.

“I’ve always wanted to say that in real life and not just in my 1D/Destial crossover fanfics on Tumblr. Username is MrsLarryDestiel (no spaces) if you want to follow.”

Wade was leaning over to Johnny, who had steam rising from his head as he gazed down at you with devotion. You felt his amusement at this entire scenario. You tried to smile back around him, even though you knew his affection was only due to your skill.

After all, you’d just met him less than an hour earlier. 

“Get your hand off my ass before I burn it off, Wade.”

“Was just trying to help you push it in her tiny little mouth. Wasn’t trying to cop a feel of what looks a lot like America’s Ass, not really,” quipped Wade who was stroking and looking down at Johnny’s derriere.

Before anyone got injured, you pulled off of the hot one’s dick and licked Wade’s thick plum shaped tip.

“Sssss. Ahhhh, yes!”

 Wade groaned and threw his head back.

 “Suck that dick like your life depends on it, Sweetie. It may be our very last night on earth. I mean, in the void.”

You sensed no fear in Wade, only irreverence.

You followed his direction and opened wide as he slid his long, thick, Deadpool dick along your outstretched tongue. Wade was still talking, of course, even as he made eyes at Logan, who was lurking on the edges of the light, pulling on his dick with two hands and making low, almost indiscernible grunts. 

Now there were about a thousand different emotions coming off him, irritation, rage, despair, grief, a deep sadness, and foremost right now, need and frustration. You tried to watch him through your tear-filled eyes.

Wade and Johnny took turns with your mouth as Logan just moved nearer, his large, impressive cock raging against those impossible abs. His stare, and his body, made you drip even more in the dirt floor of the cave they were captive in for the night.

You needed him inside you, to at least extinguish his need. But yours was growing too.

“Why don’t you relax over there while we get her ready, Mr. Grumpy Pants. Little Miss Triple Threat looks like she’s almost ready to take three cocks at once in all of her holes.”

The Wolverine grunted, but went to a spot just a few feet away and reclined against a cave wall as he continued to handle himself.

Wade looked down at you and stroked your hair again, stage whispering to you as you deep throated Johnny’s cock down your throat.

“I know he seems like a party pooper and not down for this at all, but the fact that his beautiful meat is hard and leaking precum, which is delicious, bee tee dubs, oh, AND HE'S NAKED, means he definitely is.”

You smiled around the dick in your mouth and nodded as you pulled off Johnny, a string of saliva connecting you three as Wade grabbed you by the hair and plunged down your throat, barely giving you time to take a breath.

As you choked, you could see Logan jacking off faster from the corner of your eye as you swallowed Wade whole. Even with the mask, you could tell when his eyes rolled back into his head as you took every single inch.

“Get over here and sit on my dick.”

You were surprised at Logan’s voice, not having heard much of it during his ride in the cage, except to tell Wade and Johnny to shut up. Currently, his tone was more intense and raspy with desire.

You did as you were told and the action moved from the fireside to where Logan was reclining. 

“Move the fuck around, asshole.”

Wade stomped his foot.

“That’s what I’m trying to give you, Wolvie, baby.”

But he moved from in front of you so that you could take your throne.

“C’mere.” 

Logan reached up for you, the tender gesture a contrast for the crude situation you are in: fucking these men because it was the last night of their lives, which it almost surely was. You knew when Pyro let you into the cave halfway to her lair where they stopped for the night that no one escaped Cassandra.

You almost felt sorry for them. But when you read their emotions, you sensed no fear in these heroes. Only a myriad of other things including pent up tension, stress and desire for you. And for freedom. Or at least the sensation of being free.

Fucking all three of them would free your own soul, if only for the short time you would spend with them. They were all fine, and they looked like they would be a good time. If they only knew that your purpose was distraction, to keep them busy and not trying to escape.

If you searched their emotions hard enough you might find that they knew what you were about, and that they didn't care.

You accepted the offer of Logan’s hands and settled on his muscular thighs, glancing at the other men stroking themselves by firelight to the sight of you stretching yourself around the thick head of Logan Howlett, the Wolverine’s, cock.

Their attention only made you wetter and you slid further down Logan’s thick staff than you thought you could. When Johnny and Wade each grabbed a nipple as you whined and got even slicker the sensations allowed you to encase that extra inch at the base of him.

You were so full, not having been stretched like this in a while with a human, visually pleasing partner in a long time. You moaned in pleasure and closed your eyes, biting your lip at the delicious sting of taking him.

Logan looked up into your eyes and then commanded you with that deep, sexy voice.

“Open your eyes, look at us, and bounce on this cock Sweets.”

The smack on your ass spurred you on as Johnny leaned against the wall, watching your tits bounce as he jacked himself, and Wade got behind you, straddling Logan's thighs and rubbing them. You thought you knew what was coming next as you felt Wade’s hot breath on your shoulder as his hard length slid through your slick folds. But you were surprised as he entered you, although not in the hole you expected.

Within a few seconds, Wade was nestled deep within your cunt, cock alongside Logan’s in your snug sleeve, making you mad with pleasure. An obscene groan from you accompanied Logan’s warning to Deadpool.

“Watch it fuck face.”

Loan’s voice was husky, and there was a glimmer of a smirk as he grasped your breasts, roughly pulling on your nipples. Fear of his claws coming out and injuring you caused the contractions of pleasure in your belly to quicken, even as Wade sassed him back.

“You can fuck my face later buddy. Right now, let’s both concentrate on fucking this beautiful, nice, accommodating lady’s beautiful, nice accommodating cunt..”

The two men fell into an oddly synchronistic, sinful rhythm, both of them filling you to the brim in the best way possible, sexy groans finally replacing the smart words coming from Wade and literal grunts and groans coming from Logan.

Johnny moved, filling your mouth and causing your moans to vibrate around his shaft as Logan and Wade fucked you stupid.

“Holy fuck!”

Johnny rasped as you started sucking his balls, your legs shaking as Logan and Wade pounded you into oblivion. You feel a tremendous pressure and you tried to run from what was coming, but Wade’s fingers were circling your clit and Logan’s hands are around your waist, his mouth latched onto your left nipple. That and the feeling of Johnny’s fingers massaging your scalp collided to make your impending doom come much more quickly.

You pulled off of Johnny's unit to scream.

“Oh shit, oh shit, ohhhhhh shitttttt, I- I- I- I’m cummingggg!”

“Holy shit, she's gushing like Old Faithful all around us!”

You soaked Logan as you squirted, seemingly never endingly, all over. everywhere. Wade slipped out of you and so did Logan, but instead of giving someone else a turn with your pussy, Logan growled in your hair and pitched you forward onto his chest with his hands underneath your thighs. 

“Want that ass.”

You clenched around nothing as Logan lifted you up and squeezed your ass cheek in order to give his hard, thick cock access to your puckered hole. You were so wet that he kept slipping around until you felt Wade reach in and grab Logan’s dick, pumping it a couple of times before guiding it home inside your tight ass.

You saw the sneer, and you heard the ‘schnick’ of Logan’s claws coming out and Wade’s giggle as he explained. 

“Just trying to help with the mission, Boss.”

You didn’t care about any of it as your head lolled back on your shoulders because Logan was filling you up deliciously.

Wade retreated and pulled his mask up to lick his fingers. He and Johnny resumed stroking as they watched Logan pounding you mercilessly from below, your cum making it embarrassingly easy. You locked eyes with him, and grabbed the tufts on top of his hair for purchase as you screamed and came again, just from his cock in your ass.

"Ahhhhh! Shittttt!"

“Mmmmnhhh! Incoming, Sweets”

Logan’s cum spurted inside you and began to leak out around his cock, making you even messier than before.

“Ugh. Fuck. So good.” 

He kissed your forehead as he softened inside you, then lifted your thigh to slide out from underneath you. You braced yourself on the wall as you tried to catch your breath and savored the feeling of him dripping down your legs and the peace, if only momentary, emanating from his soul. You didn’t realize that your eyes were closed until you felt  a new desperation accompanied by a hand on your arm and two hands on your ass. 

“Don’t usually go for sloppy seconds, but I’ll take it tonight.”

Johnny’s sparkling blue eyes and sincerity held you captive. His tender kiss on your lips distracted you as you felt Wade’s hands on your ass and you lowered yourself down around Johnny’s long cock.

Johnny slipped easily inside you because Wade and Logan had stretched you out, but he was so hot, literally, that you quickly clenched down on him. Your hands caressed his shoulders and trailed down his sternum and his happy trail to where you were connected. 

The way he looked at you from under his long eyelashes made you want to give him a show. You bit your lip and circled your clit, earning a groan and an appreciative stare from him as you started to ride. 

You sensed a sudden a wave of mischievousness from Wade and felt his tongue in our ass. He moaned, sending vibrations up your spine as he caused you to clench around his wet muscle and Johnny’s cock. He slurped you up, and pulled away momentarily to come up and whisper in your ear.

“Mmmm. You and Logan taste so good. You’re doing amazing, Sweetie.

He was down again and licking you clean, causing irritation to emanate from Johnny.

“I’m tryna cum, here, Wilson. Stop licking my balls, you jerkoff.”

Wade came up and wiped his mouth.

“So sorry, that was a total mistake. Didn’t mean to touch your huge, full, sexy balls with my velvet tongue. Not at all, Johnny.”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m trying to concentrate on this Sweetheart right. Here.”

Johnny kicked Wade away, stroked upward to make you moan, and then grabbed you by the neck as he flipped you over onto your back, grasping your thighs and folded you in half like a pretzel. 

“You ready to take this hot cock?”

You nodded enthusiastically as Johnny Storm began to fuck you relentlessly, his long cock reaching that magic spot inside you as you tightened around him, much to your chagrin.

It was going to be over too soon. You wanted him to use you longer.

“Mmmmph, Darlin’ I feel you, still so tight around me even after these two knuckle heads fucked your cunt silly. Should be loose, but damn, girl. C’mon. Cum for me like you did for Wolverine and Wade. Gimme that shit.”

Johnny reached down and strummed your clit, as Wade came and held your legs in place, his oddly beautiful cock hard against his abdomen. You stretched your neck and teabagged him, earning a choked, garbled moan, and no words from him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Logan standing over you and stroking his hard-for-you-again dick.

“Shit, shit, sheeeeiiittttttttt this pussy is so good. Fuck!”

Johnny pulled out and stood over your body as you scrambled up on your knees to open your mouth for your reward. The men gathered around you as first Johnny spurted white, hot cum all over your face, then Logan jerked on your tits, rubbing his bulbous tip all over your nipples, and Wade just sprayed everywhere as he watched the show.

You collapsed on your knees, wiping your face as strong arms lifted you up and took you to the other side of the cave and started washing you off with a bucket of water that had been warming by the fire. You looked up into Logan’s eyes and he avoided your gaze, concentrating on getting the cum out of your hair.

“You can rest now. We’ll cook up this bird that Pyro threw in here for food and you can sleep for a while.”

You sensed genuine tenderness, and another spark of a future need within him. You knew that they would wake you up for more than food later.

And you were more than okay with that. 

So you just smiled at him as his hand trailed the water down your body, this moment a respite for all of you, in the chaos of Cassandra’s world.

——

If you liked it, hit Reblog!

[sleepy-fiction]

Fists In The Backline.

iron fist x fem!reader SMUT

Lin Lie fucking the shit out of the enemy healer. "You're not going back to the mission area. Ever."

tgs: exhibitionism, voyeurism, watersports, minor breeding kink, ironfist physically overpowers reader, dubcon, wrestling, bdsm, unbalanced power dynamics, prey/hunter, compassionate hard dom lin, fem reader, bunny nickname, no romance pure fucking but a lot of sweetness from them

an: i loved writing this, I'm even considering a pt 2 w them as undercover fckbuddies. Also, time works diff here than playing a marvels match. BARELY proofread

4.9K WORDS

"Fuuhh fuh-Uck! Lin... Lin, we gotta goo back," you can't even manage a full sentence underneath the barrage of thrusts. Lin Lie has you bent over a broken pillar in the Royal Palace, his thick cock berating your hole as you grunt and dig your nails into the ridges.

You were 20 meters away from the mission area, your radar pinging your teammates' dangerously low health. With the leader board showing 68% to 43% of mission area captured, the latter being your team's.

It was quick how Iron Fist noticed how your heals carried your team hard. You were all in the lead for the first half of the battle, dogging them with an amazing 30% to 1%, and for hellish minutes, not a single member of his team could land a step on the mission area.

That was until he devised his plan, rounding up all his team to attack you, and you only with him hounding them to trust him. It was an even bloodier battle, but he eventually got you, but he got crushed by your team's Panther right as he did so.

This wasn't the last you'd see him. As right as you spawned, you saw the terrifying sight of an enemy IronFist, standing directly in the backlines, ogling you in spawn. At first, you were prepared for another battle, but a passionate zeal fell upon IronFist, his powers spilling out a green mist, and he incapacitated you within seconds.

His strong punch flung you into the cracked pillar behind you, the grand marble caving in under your weight. You spat out, "Augh," as gravity carried you to the floor, your ribcage and arm slung over the broken piece.

Dammit.

He was going to kill you and send you back to spawn after you tried your best escape.

You heard the familiar crunch of heavy shoes on shattered marble, and in a last ditch effort, you threw out your final weak attack. It did nothing. In fact, Iron Fist simply side stepped it. Wild feral anger crossed your eyes as you flipped to face him, legs too weak to stand.

You growled with a boom, "You back-lining asshole! You think this is a fair fucking fight? Huh? Think this is righteous?" You stated up at him, as his large muscular body casted a shadow over you.

He was tall and intimidating, his broad shoulders steered the sun away, and his proud biceps flexed in his crossed arms. The way his mask hugged at his eyes mysteriously, the way he stood strong with confidence- wisdom; something you haven't quite cracked yet. You were a new hero on the scene. You weren't accepted by all yet.

You had too much to prove and too much to lose in this fight. Not him, though. He was one of the many glorious Iron Fists. If it were any other circumstance, you would have given up, talked nice, and at least admire such an inspiring hero. But not here, not now.

Not when he was playing so fucking dirty, and ripping your precious moment from your claws.

Your eyes gleamed with spite.

Skkrt!

Your radio buzzed. Starlord's voice interrupted your stare down, "Where the hell are you, kid? We need those heals now!"

Your heart sunk to your core.

You shouted, "Well?" Grabbing up chunks of broken marble rocks and throwing it meekly at Iron Fist. They seemed to ricochet off his stature, but finally, finally, he moved.

Iron Fist sunk down a bit, grabbed your shoulder and kept you in place on the ground. "Hey, what the fuck," you spat. You thrashed around, but he sunk on one knee between your legs and raised his other mighty hand on your shoulder, clamping you down in place. You cried, but his face shot close to you.

You gasped in the closeness, you could see the beads of sweat that plagued his face and neck, how his shiney spikey hair absorbed the sunlight and reflected dark colors of husky brown. How his strong jawline complimented the structure of his masked eyes. How the tip of his nose was just as pink as his plump lips. You gulped.

He finally spoke.

"You're not going to back Mission Area. Ever," he hushed. The command sent shivers down you.

"W-Why not," you still growled at him.

"You're too good. You're the only thing keeping your uncoordinated team alive. The only one reminding those guys to stay on checkpoint. And I wanna win... So," he grins, it's devilish the way it makes you stir in fear. He's so confident, so precise, it steals your breath from under you.

An established hero recognized you.

Sskt-- "I need backup dammit! Where are my god damn heals," Winter Soldier booms.

"Hey hey! Take your time! Or don't. But listen could'ya uh... At least make it quick! No worries though," Spiderman buzzes in.

You glanced down at your Radar, the enemy team has completely caught up. They managed to tie in the 12 minutes you've been away from the battlefield.

You whimper, "Fuuck- Oh no." Despair strikes your face, but it's drowned out by the humored laugh Lin Lie releases.

You whip at him, "You can't keep me here forever! I'll notify Black Panther on my Rad--"

Within seconds, your radar is snatched, "Hey--", and crushed in-between thick hands. Your coms buzzes before blinking off. Lin, all the while, is smiling dangerously hard.

"Hehe! No can do!"

You launch forward in a rage, "You stupid fucking asshole," grabbing chunks of his uniform and sending him to the floor. You straddle his body, desperately trying to rip and claw at his face. His laugh turns into chuckles as he blocks you, eventually grabbing your wrists, stuffing a leg under your chest, and flipping you over him and onto the floor.

You crash land on your back hard, but before you could even gather out a groan, he's onto of you. Ironfist drops his weight on your hips, catching your arms above your head in a quick biff.

"You've got such fire! Such passion--"

"Die! Die, you backlining freak!"

"--You're truly one of a kind. You'll be a great hero when you're ready. No. You already are," he smiled too fondly.

You gasped, your chest heaving as your anger suddenly dies down.

"We can do this the easy way, or we can make this hard," He leans down, his free hand against the floor beside your head. He took up all your view. Despite it all, your eyes flickered from his lips to his masked face.

You whimpered. Awe as terror mixing a dangerous concoction on your face.

This was too intimate.

Even Lin hesitated, simply staring at your face.

There was no doubt in his mind that the newest hero on the scene was gorgeous. Especially to him. You were a true strategist with an empathic heart and a pretty face. Cute eyes with tulips for lips. You trained hard, deep into the early morning when he began his training, and he always caught you staying longer than you should just to admire the way he fought.

Most heros become recognized and lose their precision. Not you, you were sharpening the arrowhead until the oil burned.

He admired you so damn much he even switched his usual spot in the after-match lunch room just so he could have a clear view of you over through Rocket's short head. Even the way you ate was cute. You were always so starry-eyed and excited when conversing with your mates, Storm and Squirrel Girl.

He'd be a liar to say he wasn't taking advantage of it all right now.

"Pretty thing," he mutters. It's loud enough for you to hear. It's sadistic, the way he chuckles a little before continuing, "Got no where to run." He wants to see those glossy eyes brim with anger, just one more time.

Where's your zealous spirit?

You can feel your face warm. You know you shouldn't, but somewhere you got lost in his presence, lost gazing between that mysterious mask and those deliciously soft lips. Those plump, full lips of his. Just as pink as the tip of his nose. You whimper ever too submissively, "What're you 'gonna do to me..." You can't even mask your desire, your tone pleading and desperate. The sort of pleading, desperate tone that drowns in sensuality, as your voice is reduced to a breathy, stammery mess.

He disrespected you but...

You didn't get angry. Hell, that's far from anger.

You're panting a little too heavy, you're staring dead at his lips, you're drowning in his presence, melting like butter, yet as alert as a rabbit in the snares of a fox.

He's losing his fucking mind.

You are totally into him. You like him.

He's overwhelmed by the sheer intensity, the shockwave of seduction that blows in from those rabbit breaths.

He should do the right thing.

But god, he wants to take advantage of this.

What other time would he ever get you this turned on, and be in position to be the lucky one who gets to please you?

But should he do it here? Out in the open, where prying eyes could disrespect you? Holding you hostage, overpowering you physically?

Why did all these factors make it impossibly hotter?

Was it worth risking it all for a once-in-a-lifetime erotic escapade?

And with those sweet eyes shifting from pupil to pupil, you really did look like a tied up rabbit.

Fuck it.

Let's fuck like rabbits.

He raises back, his hand testing the waters, releasing your wrists, and clamping a strong hand on your neck. You call out and whimper, yet never look away, eagerly awaiting, your heart drumming in your chest. His grip is tight but not suffocating. His hands are so damn large, and your neck almost feels like nothing to him. And fuck you're so turned on. You shut your eyes, limp your head back, and ease tense shoulders, flashing him the underside of your chin.

He feels himself harden in his pants, his eyes widening in disbelief and jaw falling slack.

You moaned so sexily and fell limply in his arms like a fainting princess.

Yeah no.

That's one gigantic green light. He pulled you off the ground by your neck, raising your body up to meet his, you gasp out, meekly throwing your hands on his forearms, your grip almost nonexistent.

"I'm going to realign your guts," he smiles wistfully, a hearty and amused laugh leaving him.

There you found yourself, your pants bunched around your knees, your elbows on the broken pillar, and your drippingly wet ass perked up in doggy. The rest of your clothes are disheveled and barely put on right, as Lin's egerously largest hands were, just minutes prior, groping you everywhere on your soft body. It didn't take long for either of you to get deathly aroused. In fact, half the foreplay was skipped, per your request, just so you could feel him.

"Hurry-hurry-hurry," you ramble out, shaking your ass with a delicious whine. He catches it immediately with his bandaged hand, his fingers itching with the addiction of feeling your skin. "I can't take it anymore Iron Fist," you say.

He winces hard. You're so shameless, so bold. It's driving him insane. He shakes, desperate to keep control of himself, as he slowly slides his giant cockhead against your lips. You moan, arching viciously. His thickness peck and slip through your folds, collecting your slick before finally dipping in.

His head is fat, his whole cock itself was 8 inches long. Bulky and burly over skinny. It's fatter towards the center, perfectly straight and just as pink as his lips. Your hole chokes up on his head alone, stretching to meet his plump demands.

Bzztk-- "Iron Fist. Keep it up! Whatever it is, it's working," Hela's voice breaks through the slience. You moan at the lewdity of it all, your toes curling.

Bzzt-- IronFist holds his radar, buzzing it on, "Mmf- Thanks! The fight hasn't been easy! We've been battling it out nonestop," he suddenly plunges in, his cock now halfway in.

You abruptly groan out, "G-Gaa--"

"--Oh no! You're not getting away! Get over here," but he covers it up smoothly.

Bzzt-- "Good work, Lin. Keep it up," Cloak's voice slithers out.

Lin snickers, "You know I will," and the radio shuts off.

You finally moan out all that you couldn't before. "It's soo b-big Iron Fist," you mewl, dropping your chin to rest against the pillar.

"M'hehe," he pushes in more, "Just call me Lin, okay?" His voice is gentle and sweet, both of his strong hands securely gripping your hips. You can feel his blazing warmth not only from his piping dick but from his palms. Combined, it all brings aroused tingles to your brain. "It's Lin Lie, hero."

"My name is--" He slams into you, bottoming out.

You groan out, but he shuts you up quick by leaning forward, reaching, and stuffing your mouth with two of his fingers. His hand cups the side of your face, his thumb resting by the corner of your eye. "Hey, you're still new okay? You gotta protect your identity. Don't give it up for sex," he scolds.

"You'thh thdid itt," you manage out.

"Yeah, well, I've been doing this for a while," he says. He rubs circles with his palm on your juicy ass, admiring every part of how his cock feels in your velvety walls. How you pulse around him and invite him in so nicely. He's thrusting slow into you by now, only taking himself out an inch before sinking back in. He looks from your ass to your face as he does so. "Is that good," he asks, eyes lidding behind the mask.

He sighs out deeply the way a man would after cigarettes when he's finally able to start doing some sort of moving. His grip tight, his restraint dwindling. It's not his fault your tight walls suck him back as he pulls out, not his fault your cervix likes to kiss his tip so nicely. Fuck, all he wants to do now is fuck you like a dog and play with your clit while doing it. All he wants is to make you lose yourself again and get the pleasure you were begging for.

You cry, "Mmyes, morr' Lin. I canh'take morr' than this." Your voice vibrates around his fingers. His hands have you leaned up, your fingertips being the only thing keeping you connected with the pillar. And you find how befitting the blue sky is with an ass full of cock.

"Ffu-- Good," he moans. Lin starts to let loose, starting paced. His dick bangs into your stomach, the fulling sensation of him smothering your hot insides, releasing sloppy, loud squelches into the air.

Your senses are immediately overidden, as you bite down onto his fingers, and move back against his cock. "Ooh'ff! Ooh," you moan blissfully. His lips clench in concentration, as you feel him dig and dig, until finally- your hand slams against the pillar with a loud, "Ff-Yeessh'!"

He laughs sweetly, "Oooh yeah? That's your sweet-spot? Huh, beauty?" He groans breathlessly, precusely digging and fucking his tip into that spot.

His large dick is fucking against your bladder, your toes squeeze ice tight, your moans echoing across the palace walls. Your eyes roll back into your head, your back drowing in sweat already, annoyed by your superclothing that restrain you. "Gotth'a pee," you mutter against his fingers, his thick digits familiarizing itself with your drool.

"Go'n'head 'n release. Ffuck... nobody's gonna see you anymore today," he groans. Your walls spasmed in fear and anticipation at his devilish sugarcoated words. Lin's hand finally slips from your mouth, and you fall back onto your elbows. His other hand, join him in holding your hips. He lifts your hips up more, your knees now hovering an inch off the ground. Your weight meant absolutely nothing to him.

"Keep an eye on the score, would you," he says as he tosses his radar infront of you. You sloppily turn it over, shock filling your soul.

You first cry out in despair, "Fuck it's at sixty-sev-- Oooh! Yess," but the sound quickly morphs into pure bliss. Your head drops down dumbly as Lin's pace turns into madness. No longer did the sweet, consideriate, paced thrusts exist, as now he fucked you expeditiously. His stout cock was rapid and precise, its unrelenting speed just as inescapable as his zealous fists.

Your hand reach out into the air around you, gripping at absolutely nothing to anchor you to this world and not the galaxy of stars behind your eyelids. His grunts and groans got louder, the stuttering sounds ever so deep and blissful. He fucked you so hard you could feel your elbows slip forward on the pillar, until you were no longer holding onto it, but your stomach rested on it, and your hands planted into the dirt.

Your toes curled, as your greedy pussy clenched down on him. The sloppy wet sounds combined with the intense clapping of skin to skin competed against your wailing cries. Your bladder gave out within seconds of it all, squinting hard as your bladder was pressed by both sides. On the inside, it was battered by Lin's passionate head, but on the outside, it was smothered by the broken pillar. Your legs twitched and jerked, hands deep in the dirt.

You cried, "L-Lin! Oooh fuck! Mmff' let's go baack." The only thing else to look at was the scoreboard, watching helplessly as the enemy team reached a terrifying 78 percent, ten more gained in the three minutes from last time you checked. They were kicking your team's ass, hard.

"Nno can do bunny-- Haa... I've 'gotta- wwin-uh," he moans out. He suddenly stops, forcedly adjusting himself, as he lays a foot down on the pillar, his body leaning down towards you, as he forces your face into the dirt; large hand pressing the back of your head down. In this new position, your knees slipped up to catch yourself, now finding themselves on the pillar, your pants now barely held on by your feet, and Lin stood in the calamity, a perfectly smooth transition, as his left hand stayed put on your hips.

He asks, "You 'kay?" But barely waits as he instantly begins to pound you into the dirt. By now, all of his thrusts are sloppy, his grunts loud into the air, curses flying off his lips like a mantra, "Ffuck-fuck-fuck-- mm."

He's gonna cum, he's gonna cum!

He's still going full steam ahead inside of you. You were overstimulated beyond compare, your poor sweet clit was swollen and enlarged, pulsating hard for friction. The slightest touch of it would send you flying to heaven and back. No way we're you gonna be left high and wet without a mind-fucking orgasm.

"Mmm- My Clit," you screeched like a parrot, your moans filled with more light headed gasps than sounds.

Lin released your head, leaning all the way up, and using his hand how to reach between you and spin your clit. The muscle was pre-drenched in the downpour of your lust. And in your wake, "I'm cumming!--", you ripped chunks from the earth, squirting out one final time.

"Aaa-haah, me too," Lin could barely laugh, as he was overtaken by mindless groans as he slammed rough into you for the final time, shooting his first ribbon deep inside you. He pulled out, shooting his second, before roughly slamming balls-deep in for the third. His moans were feral and mindless, only caring about dumping his hot load into your cervix.

Shit. That totally wasn't good but you'd take care of--

Bbzzt-- "Another Amazing Victory!"

Your eyes popped open to the radar.

The scoreboard: 100% to 49%

Your knees slipped back onto the dirt as he pulled out, your stomach back resting on the pillar as you stared at the results with angered eyes.

"See, what'd I tell ya, bunny," his cock rudely finds its way back inside, he continues, "You carried your team." He leans down on you, his chest on your back as he hooks an arm under yours. It slots between your breasts and grabs your neck, pulling you completely off the ground as he stands up with you, his hard dick still inside. Your legs twitch, and a sultry mewl leaves you, your piss drenched pants slipping to the ground.

You can hear Lin groan deep into your ear, "Sorry, bunny, just one more round. I promise it'll be just one more... I need this, please. Trust me," and it sends delicious tingles down your spine.

It's only then, from this sight of him holding you, that you can see your surroundings and really focus in on the fact that you were on royal grounds, fucking where any unlucky bastard could see.

And oddly, your eyes kept glancing to a crow perched up on a pillar in the distance.

Fuck.

Eeh.

Well.

"Okaayy," you mewl braindead-ly. "Mmh, make it rough Lin pleasee," you whine, clenching tight around him in anticipation.

"Your wish is my command, bunny," he whispers fiendishly so.

read part 2?

[plasticflowersinahistorycemetery]

let the band play

one-shot

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Fem!Reader

Summary: This is the last straw. While out on recon with Butcher and Hughie, Ben went into your bedroom and used your favourite shirt to clean himself off. You're going to let the smug idiot know exactly what you think about him. Trouble is? He likes it.

Warnings: 18+!, Ben being his own warning again, language, creative insults, smut (panty-sucking, p in v, clitoral stimulation, cum on face, biting, sucking, licking, kissing, throttling, rough sex, slapping), misogyny, dirty talk, degradation, I may have missed some.

Word Count: 3,930

A/N: OKAYYYY, I got another one written and I lowkey (very, very highkey, actually) love nasty, mean, rough Ben more than I can ever put into words. Can you even imagine the pure hate-fucking this man is capable of? Ungh. <3 This one was inspired by a song... if you wanna give it a listen, then please do: "Let The Band Play" by Badflower. It's dark and gritty and just delicious for the tense vibes of this one-shot. As always, please give me feedback, if y'all feel like it. Until the next one! All the love.

"Oh, you lazy, no good, deadbeat Lying, woman-hating, piece of vile fucking scum You fucking downright piece of shit I'll spit on your grave, I'll make you suffer I'll massacre you, you fucking bastard You vile piece of shit, I'm coming for you You hear me? I'm coming for you! I'm coming for you! Ah!

And let the band play" 

Let The Band Play - Badflower 

The rhythmic slosh of the washing machine filled the cramped space, a dull, ceaseless churn that did nothing to tamp down the blistering heat rising in your chest. Your arms were folded tight, foot tapping against the scuffed linoleum, jaw clenched hard enough to make your teeth ache. The faint smell of detergent curled in your nose, too clean, too artificial, grating against the raw fury pressing like a hot coal against your ribs.

You weren’t even supposed to be here right now. You should’ve been upstairs, knocking back whatever cheap whiskey was left in the cabinet, decompressing after another long recon run. Instead, you were here, waiting for your shirt—your favourite black shirt—to be scrubbed of his fucking filth.

Because Ben had gone into your room. Again. He’d slithered his way into your space while you were out with Butcher and Hughie, ransacking your drawers, shifting your weapons, mixing your bullets in the wrong order—his usual bullshit. But this time, he’d taken it further. This time, you’d picked up your shirt and felt it, the crusted, stiff stain scraping against your fingers before your brain even caught up with what it was.

That fucking bastard.

The worst part? You weren’t even surprised. You’d known for a while now—panties disappearing, small things out of place, the gnawing suspicion sitting ugly in your gut. He’d been toying with you. Pushing, needling, waiting for you to catch on. And now you definitely had.

The door creaked behind you, and you didn’t have to turn around to know it was him. The air changed when Ben walked into a room—went heavy, charged, dangerous. That insufferable, lazy swagger, the barely-there drag of his boots, the scent of cologne and gunpowder and sheer, unrepentant arrogance.

“You’re stompin’ those pretty little feet like you got somethin’ to say, sweetheart.”

Your teeth snapped together so hard your molars screamed. His voice was dripping in amusement, thick with condescension, his usual cocktail of shit-eating smugness and predatory glee. He’d been waiting for this. Fucking waiting for it.

Slowly, you turned, arms still crossed, eyes slicing up to meet his with a glare sharp enough to slit his throat. He was leaning against the doorway like he had all the time in the world, watching you, his gaze hungry, expectant.

“I’m going to kill you.”

The words were calm, measured. Deadly. They only made him grin wider.

“Yeah?” He took a step forward, slow and deliberate. “What’s got your panties in a twist this time?”

Your nails dug into your palms. “You know exactly what.”

Ben hummed, tilting his head like he had to think about it, like he wasn’t fully aware of what he’d done, like he wasn’t thrilled about it. Then—mock surprise, all wide eyes and fake innocence.

“Ohhh,” he drawled, lips curling. “You mean your little t-shirt?”

The rage that slammed through your system nearly made your vision white out. He knew. He fucking knew.

“Are you—are you fucking serious?” Your voice came out strangled, barely contained. “You—you used my shirt? You went into my fucking room and—“

“Oh, come on,” he cut you off, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like you were wearin’ it.”

“That’s not the fucking point!”

Ben chuckled, a low, dark thing, rich with enjoyment. He took another step closer, and you barely stopped yourself from stepping back. You wouldn’t give him that.

“You’re gettin’ all worked up over a little mess,” he mused, voice syrup-thick with mockery. “What, you never had a guy come on your clothes before?”

Something inside you snapped.

The next thing you knew, you were shoving him—hard. He barely moved, but it didn’t matter. You wanted him to feel it. You wanted him to know that if you had a knife in your hand right now, you’d be planting it between his ribs.

Ben laughed.

A deep, rich, obnoxious fucking sound, like you were the funniest thing he'd seen all day. Like your rage was a fucking delight to him. His grin stretched wider, slow and deliberate, his eyes glinting with something sharp and dangerous.

“Aw, c’mon now,” he drawled, brushing nonexistent dust off his sleeve. “That all you got?”

Your hands curled into fists. “You are a scummy, vile, dirty old man,” you spat. “You’re just an old fucking dog, and I shouldn’t be surprised that you can’t be trained, because you can’t teach old dogs new tricks.”

Ben preened. Actually fucking preened. His broad shoulders straightened, his smirk turned smugger, his eyes burned with excitement.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he murmured, faux concern dripping from his tone. “Keep twitchin’ that little eye of yours like that and you’re gonna pop a blood vessel. Then what? No man’s gonna wanna fuck you.”

Your nostrils flared. Your pulse roared in your ears. Oh, fuck this.

Your hand snapped out, grabbing the first thing within reach—the bottle of fabric softener sitting beside the washing machine—and hurled it at him.

It hit him in the chest with a solid thud, and the bastard laughed.

“You’re real fuckin’ feisty, you know that?” He taunted, shaking his head. “Maybe if you weren’t such a mouthy little fuckin’ bitch, you’d actually get laid.”

Your vision blurred with rage. “And maybe if you weren’t such a festering, antiquated, deadbeat, woman-hating piece of shit, Payback wouldn’t have sold you out to the fucking Russians!”

His expression flickered. Just for a second. Just for a fucking second. And then his grin turned razor-sharp. His entire body shifted, and before you could register it, he moved.

He was on you in a breath.

One second, the space between you still existed—thin, crackling, electric. The next, gone. Ben stepped into it, filled it, drowned you in it, his body crowding yours until there was nowhere left to go. He was all heat, size, weight, a walking, talking fucking menace with that razor-blade smirk cutting across his face.

“Say it again,” he murmured, low and lethal, a dark, dangerous purr that slithered up your spine and coiled in your gut.

Oh, he was furious. You could see it in the taut set of his jaw, in the slight twitch of his fingers, in the barely restrained tension vibrating under his skin. But it wasn’t just anger. No, it was something else, something filthy, something that made his nostrils flare and his chest rise just a little too quickly.

He liked it. He fucking liked it.

So you gave it to him.

“You’re a no-good, perverted, misogynistic, chauvinist fucking cunt.” Your voice was steady, vicious, every word sharper than the last. “And if you ever step foot in my fucking room again, I’ll kill you. For real.”

His smirk twitched. Something flickered.

You weren’t done.

“You’re not a fucking war hero, Ben. You never stormed a goddamn thing in your life. Your entire legacy is bullshit—a propaganda piece for a country that doesn’t even fucking remember you. You’re just a relic of Vought’s past, and even they didn’t want you anymore.”

The groan that rumbled out of him was filthy. Deep, appreciative, dragging through his throat like smoke and sex and something far, far worse.

His hand slid down his front, blatant as all hell, and he palmed at the hard line of his cock through his jeans—adjusted it, made a whole goddamn show of it, a smirk creeping across his mouth as he let his head tip back just a little.

“Fuck, you’re really gettin’ me going now, sweetheart.”

Your stomach turned. Your lip curled into a vicious scowl, disgust and rage flooding through you all at once. You swung for him. Fast. Hard. Unforgiving.

He caught your wrist mid-air. Effortless. And then he moved.

A sharp yank, a forceful shove, and you were bent backwards over the still-rumbling washing machine, your spine curving against the vibrating metal, heat searing across your back from the sheer force of it. The room tilted, the whir of the machine filling your ears.

Ben’s weight pressed down, locked you in place.

One huge, brutal hand wrapped around your throat, pinning you down, thumb digging against your pulse, while the other clamped down on your hip—heavy, immovable, possessive.

A slow exhale ghosted across your cheek, the warmth of it infuriating, unbearable, suffocating.

His voice was a murmur, low and deep and satisfied as all fucking hell.

“Now we’re talkin’.”

“Get the hell off me.”

Your voice was sharp, but the angle was all wrong, your body bent backward, pinned at an unnatural curve against the still-running washing machine, his hand locked around your throat, fingers flexing just enough to remind you he could tighten his grip whenever the fuck he wanted.

And he laughed. Again.

That deep, gravel-rough chuckle, smug and entirely too entertained, rolling through his chest like you’d just told the funniest joke of his goddamn life.

“Sweetheart, I could pop your fuckin’ head off right now if I wanted to.”

Your teeth bared, rage coiling tight and vicious in your gut. With a sharp growl, you surged up, trying to fight against his hold, trying to push through the weight of him—

He used it against you.

Fast. Effortless. Completely, infuriatingly controlled.

His grip tightened around your throat, his other hand locked down hard on your hip, and suddenly, you were being lifted, hauled up like you weighed nothing. The room tilted, the washing machine’s hum shaking through your spine as he set you down on the edge—your thighs now spread around his waist, your body trapped between the vibrating machine and the sheer, unrelenting weight of him.

One of his hands clamped down on your hip, fingers curling in deep, holding you in place while his other shifted, the grip around your neck moving—repositioning—until his forearm was suddenly braced against your throat, keeping you folded against the machine, against the wall, against him.

And fuck.

Your breath hitched—not just from anger.

He felt it. He heard it.

That small, involuntary whimper that spilled from your lips the second he shifted, the hard, thick length of him dragging against you through your clothes—through nothing but layers of fabric.

His grin sharpened.

Head tilted, eyes dropping low, slow, deliberate—watching exactly where his hips were pressed up tight against yours. Then, back up to you. Those green eyes burned—mocking, amused, completely, utterly in control.

“You wanna get fuckin’ spread open, doll?”

You clenched your jaw, forcing down the humiliation pooling hot and unbearable in your gut. Your body was betraying you.

Every slow, deliberate grind of his hips sent a fresh wave of heat rippling through you, the thick, heavy length of him dragging against the growing dampness between your thighs—and he knew it.

Of course he fucking knew it.

Your fingers curled against the vibrating metal beneath you, desperate to keep some grip on your sanity, your dignity, your fucking composure. You still had fight in you. You weren’t going to let him see you fold.

Your lips curled, voice dripping in mockery, even as your breath hitched.

“Surprised you can even still get it up, Grandpa.”

His grin was wicked.

Then—pressure. A sharp, sudden grind, his hips pressing hard into yours, forcing the full, thick line of his cock against you, pinning you in place with nothing but pure weight and heat and dominance.

Your breath punched out of you in a soft, humiliating whimper.

Ben just grinned wider.

“That feel like I got any performance issues, sweetheart?”

His voice was thick, syrupy and dark, the rasp curling at the edges, drenched in amusement. His forearm pressed harder against your throat, not cutting off your air, but reminding you—reminding you exactly who was in control.

Your hands twitched, nails biting into the fabric of his jacket, unsure whether you wanted to push him away or pull him closer.

Then, his mouth dipped lower, his voice dropping into something slower, heavier, more dangerous.

“I know you wanna get fucked by me.”

Your stomach flipped. Your body went rigid, your breath caught hard in your throat.

His smirk stretched wider, all sharp teeth and victorious smugness.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” he murmured, tilting his head, his hips rolling slow and steady, rubbing deliberately, cruelly against your aching core. “When you think I’m not watchin’. When you think you’re bein’ real fuckin’ subtle.”

Your brain screamed denial, denial, denial, but fuck, fuck, fuck—

Because he wasn’t wrong.

Your mind flickered back—to the safe house gym, to the few times you’d ended up in the same room, both of you training, ignoring each other, keeping your distance.

Except you hadn’t really been ignoring him.

You remembered it too well—the way your gaze would drift, the way your teeth would sink into your bottom lip without thinking, watching the sheer power of him, all raw, solid muscle, all sweat-slicked, feral fucking strength, the way he moved, like a goddamn beast barely caged.

You had watched him.

And he’d fucking seen it.

“Shouldn’t feel too bad,” Ben continued, his voice low and thick, that tone dripping with mock sympathy. His hips rolled forward again, slow, deliberate, grinding his cock hard against you, dragging that pressure right over your aching, humiliatingly wet core.

“I watch you too, doll.”

Your breath hitched.

Oh, fuck.

“Barely hold myself back from comin’ over n bitin’ your fuckin' ass when you’re doin’ squats in those stupid little shorts.” His voice went rough, nearly gravelled, all hot and smug. “Y’know the ones, sweetheart—the ones that look like they’re painted the fuck on.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs. Because your eyes had flickered down—without thinking, without meaning to—and suddenly, you realised you were wearing those shorts right now.

Your body went rigid, heat flaring over your cheeks, over your chest, a full-body flush of anger, humiliation, something else.

Ben’s smirk widened. His forearm pressed harder into your throat, cutting off just enough space to make you feel the pressure, to make your breath catch.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his lips nearly brushing your jaw. “I noticed.”

Your stomach flipped.

His hips ground into you again, the full, thick line of his cock pressing exactly where he wanted you to feel it.

Then—his voice dropped into something low, dark, final.

“I’m gonna ask you one more time. Real nice.” His smirk twitched. “Do you wanna get fuckin’ split open—” another sharp grind, your body jerking at the friction, your mouth parting in a whimper—“or are you gonna keep pretendin’ to be the little modern feminist pussy we both know you ain't?”

The word tore from your lips before you could even think.

“Once.”

The second it was out of your mouth, he moved. His lips slammed into yours, all teeth and heat and hunger, a brutal, ravenous collision, his tongue licking into your mouth like he was trying to devour you from the inside out.

He growled into the kiss, biting, sucking, wrecking your lips like he had every intention of leaving them swollen and bruised for days. His hand snapped up, tangling roughly in your hair, tugging, tilting your head exactly how he wanted.

“Fuck,” he groaned against your mouth. “You taste so fuckin’ sweet.”

You scrambled for purchase, hands grasping, clawing at his hair, his jacket, trying to pull him closer, tighter, anything—but your angle was still off, your back still pressed at that awkward arch against the washing machine, still trapped by his weight.

You barely had time to process before he grabbed the neckline of your shirt and—

Ripped.

The fabric tore in half with one sharp pull, the pieces hanging uselessly off your arms, baring your heated, flushed skin to the cool air of the laundry room.

Your eyes snapped up, scowling.

“You’re a dick.”

Ben grinned, chest heaving, thrilled.

Then you fisted his own shirt, fingers curling in tight, and ripped it straight down the middle—just like he had done to you.

He laughed, a deep, rasping sound that sent heat pulsing between your thighs. Then he hooked both hands into your shorts, yanked hard—

Riiiip.

The material shredded apart, leaving you in nothing but your soaked underwear.

Ben hummed, voice all mock innocence, the barest smirk curling his lips.

“Oops.”

Before you could snap back, before you could snarl and shove and cuss him out, he shoved you down, pushing you flat against the washing machine, his hands pressing down heavy on your thighs to keep them spread.

And then—his mouth was on you.

Right over your slick, soaked underwear, latching on, sucking hard, loud, obscene, the heat of his tongue pressing hot and wet through the fabric.

A sharp, wrecked sound tore from your throat, your hands flying out to grab for anything—his hair, the edges of the washing machine, the crumpled remains of your shirt.

Ben moaned against you, soaking in your reaction like it was the best thing he’d ever fucking heard.

And then—he did it again.

Ben’s groan vibrated straight into your core, deep and wrecked, as he sucked hard, his mouth sealing over your underwear, dragging the fabric and your aching cunt into his mouth. The heat of his tongue pressed, the wet suction pushing through, and your hips jerked, a sharp, unbidden gasp ripping from your throat.

Then he pulled back, lips slick, breath ragged, eyes burning as he flicked them up to yours.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice dark and guttural, half-taunt, half-worship. “Real fuckin' sweet.”

Before you could fire back, before you could even breathe, his hand snapped up and—

Smack.

A sharp, stinging slap right over the spot where his mouth had just been.

A startled yelp tore from your lips, your body tensing against the vibrating metal beneath you, and Ben just grinned, eyes gleaming with something hungry, predatory, insatiable.

You barely had a second to recover before he was shoving his jeans down, just enough to free himself, his cock thick, flushed, hard as fuck, and you were already struggling, fingers shaking as you tried to yank your underwear down.

You got one leg free—

Then he was back on you. His hand slammed against your chest, pinning you back down, your underwear still clinging to your other leg, tangled just above your knee.

“Nah, sweetheart,” he rasped, gripping himself, lining up. “You don’t need to worry ‘bout that.”

And then—

He sank in.

One, long, achingly slow stroke, stretching you open, shoving in deep, until he was buried to the fucking hilt.

Your mouth parted, a wrecked, breathless moan spilling past your lips, your hands clawing for something, anything, nails scraping over the metal of the machine, the bare skin of his biceps, the solid muscle of his stomach.

Ben let out a rough, punched-out breath, his head tilting forward, his forearm tightening where it pinned your throat again.

Through gritted teeth, voice low and shattered, he muttered, “Holy shit, sweetheart—way fuckin’ tighter than I thought you’d be.”

You barely registered the words.

Your mind was already white noise, your body blissed out, wrecked from the stretch, from the sheer, impossibly full feeling of him seated so deep inside you, from the unrelenting weight of him pressing you down.

Then he pulled back.

And slammed home again.

Your head hit the wall, a strangled moan punching out of you as the pressure built, his hand still wrapped tight around your throat, keeping you exactly where he wanted you, keeping you open and helpless and fucking ruined beneath him.

Ben was ruthless.

The hand not wrapped around your throat dropped, his fingers sliding down, knuckles dragging over the plane of your stomach, the sweaty dip of your navel—before they pressed, rubbed, circled your aching clit just right as he kept slamming into you, rough and unrelenting, shoving you higher, higher, higher—

And then he laughed. Low, dark, mean as all fucking hell.

"What happened, sweetheart?" He rasped, his breath hot against your jaw, grinning as your back arched. "Ain't you supposed to be some big, bad feminist? All that moral high ground, all that virtue-signalling bullshit—" he gave a brutal, punishing thrust, making you gasp, your hands scrambling against his shoulders—"melting right the fuck outta your pretty head now, ain't it?"

You shook, legs trembling, your body betraying you, the heat coiling tight and hot and fucking unbearable.

"C'mon, use that big mouth of yours." His fingers rubbed harder, faster, pushing you closer to the edge, his cock hitting deep, hitting perfect with every driving snap of his hips. "Tell me how much you fuckin' hate me, sweetheart. Tell me how I'm a misogynistic piece of shit while you're soakin' my cock."

Your breath hitched, a sharp, wrecked whimper slipping from your lips.

His smirk deepened.

"That's what I fuckin' thought."

He was so fucking smug. So fucking cocky. He was growling into your skin, sneering at your unraveling, at the way your nails bit into his skin, at the way you tightened around him, nearly choking his cock, your thighs clenching, your entire body locking up—

And then you cried out, pleasure ripping through you, your body shaking, spasming, your orgasm hitting so fucking hard it knocked the breath out of you.

Ben groaned, biting hard against your collarbone, his tongue lapping over the mark immediately after. "Yeah, that's it," he gritted out, his cock still pounding into you, working you through it, keeping you locked down, shaking, helpless. "All you fuckin’ needed was a good, hard fuck to get that attitude outta you, huh?"

Your mind barely processed it—not when he was licking and sucking, his mouth everywhere, his teeth scraping rough along your throat, biting at your face, dragging his tongue over your cheek before kissing you filthy and deep—

And then—

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The washing machine. Your shirt was done.

Ben stilled for a half-second. Then he fucking laughed.

The second his laughter faded, he was right back at it—pounding into you, all force and greed, using your wrecked, overstimulated body to chase his own high, the smug, cocky bastard making sure you felt it.

His hand dug into your hip, his grip on your throat tightened, pulling you into every brutal thrust, forcing you to take him, take it, take all of it.

“You better hurry up, sweetheart,” he mocked, voice raspy, strained, dragging his teeth along your jaw, pressing a wet, biting kiss just beneath your ear. “You wanna come again, you better fuckin’ keep up.”

His fingers found your clit again, but his movements were deliberate, lazy, cruel—not giving you enough, not letting you have it until he wanted you to.

“Such a good little fuckdoll,” he groaned, his lips brushing against your damp, overheated skin. “So fuckin’ sweet when you’re just takin’ it, huh? That’s what you needed. Just needed to get fucked stupid, yeah?”

You whined, barely coherent, barely able to even snap back at him.

Ben groaned, tension knotting in his stomach, his pace turning desperate, erratic.

“Where d’you want it, sweetheart?” He rasped, voice thick and hungry, hips snapping into you harder. “Inside you? All fuckin’ deep, fillin’ you up, yeah?”

Your brain kicked back online real fucking fast.

“Under no circumstances can you fucking come inside me.”

Ben snarled, gritting his teeth as his pace stuttered, his grip tightening in irritation.

“No fuckin’ fun.” His sneer was vicious. “Fine. You want it on your fuckin’ face, then?”

Before you could even breathe, his grip on your throat yanked you forward, pulling you off the washing machine. Your knees hit the floor, legs still shaking, useless, your mind still spinning as he fisted his cock, his other hand gripping your hair, holding you right in place.

“Fuck, sweetheart—"

With a low, guttural groan, he spilled across your face, his breath ragged, loud, unrestrained, groaning deep and shameless, his entire body tensing as he pumped himself dry, streaking hot, thick ropes over your cheeks, lips, chin.

And then—

"Oh, for fuck’s sake."

Your blood turned to ice. Your entire body locked up.

"Pair of fuckin' animals."

You whipped your head toward the door—and there stood Butcher. One hand on his hip, the other rubbing his temples, shaking his head like he'd just walked in on two stray dogs humping on the sidewalk.

And then?

He turned and walked right the fuck back out.

Mortification. Pure, searing, full-body mortification. You were still on your knees, still panting, wrecked, still covered in Ben’s cum.

And when you turned back?

Oh, he was grinning. That shit-eating, cocky, bastard grin.

Your stomach sank. Because in one hand, Ben was holding—your shirt.

Your freshly washed, still-warm shirt that he’d clearly grabbed right out of the machine while you’d been frozen in horror, looking at Butcher.

And now? Now he was wiping himself off with it. Casual. Smug. Completely unbothered. Once he was done, he tossed it at your face.

“Go on, sweetheart.” His smirk was lethal. “Get cleaned up.”

@mostlymarvelgirl @lunaleah @drakulana @sl33pylilbunny @itshellfire @nevercameraready @suckitands33 <3

[alive-gh0st]

❝Corruption Complete❞

Mark Grayson x Brainrot Girlfriend!Readerᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

𓊆ྀིfeat. Oliver & Debbie Grayson𓊇ྀི

˗ˏˋ 𓉘 Part 2 - ”Too Far Gone” 𓉝 ˎˊ˗

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

❤︎‬ summary: mark’s trying to enjoy a quiet night at home. too bad his girlfriend has just discovered a new hyperfixation—and now oliver’s in on it. debbie joins next. mark’s officially outnumbered.

‪‪❤︎‬ contains: sfw. modern brainrot. fandom jokes. long-suffering boyfriend!Mark. brainrot!reader. tiktok trends. group roasting. oliver is a smug little shit. debbie is thriving. mark just wants peace. comedic fluff, banter, affectionate roasting, domestic vibes. silly chaos.

‪‪❤︎‬ wc: 722

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌a/n: i wrote this instead of doing literally anything productive. it started as a joke and now it’s got lore. enjoy my descent. also, yes—i know, the title is 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂.

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﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

It started innocently enough.

You were sprawled on the couch, eyes glued to your phone, tears streaming down your face as you watched an AI-generated TikTok video.

“Mark—Mark, look!” You shoved your phone in his face. It almost smacked him in the nose, but it’s fine. He’s literally [Title Card].

Moving on.

He squinted at the screen. “Is that… a cat in a firefighter uniform?”

“Yes! It’s so tragic and inspiring. The kitten was rescued from a fire, grew up to become a firefighter, and then died heroically saving a child. And—listen to this—it reunited with its grandma in the afterlife.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “You cried over an AI-generated cat video?”

“It’s not just a video, Mark. It’s art.”

➽─────────❥

The descent into chaos was swift.

A few days later, Oliver burst into the living room (nearly crashing into a wall), eyes wide with excitement.

“Have you seen the ‘Ballerina Cappuccina’ trend?!” he blurted, practically vibrating.

You gasped, sitting up. “Yes! The one with the cappuccino-headed ballerina pirouetting into the void?”

Oliver nodded vigorously. “It’s peak brainrot.”

Mark groaned from the kitchen. “Not you too, Oliver.”

“It’s a cultural movement, Mark.” Oliver said, deadpan.

Not even ten minutes later, real chaos began…..Debbie’s curiosity was piqued.

She entered the kitchen, holding her phone while pursing her lips.

“Kids, what’s this ‘Bombardino Crocodilo’ thing?”

You and Oliver made eye contact, then—without speaking—played the audio simultaneously: “FORZA BOMBA!”

Debbie blinked. Then looked at Mark—who didn’t even look up, just slumped lower against the cabinets like the universe was personally attacking him.

“Well, that’s… something.”

➽─────────❥

A quiet evening turned into a bonding session.

With Mark and Oliver out training because let’s be real—that boy needs some serious teaching, you and Debbie settled on the couch. She sipped her wine, a mischievous glint in her eye like she’s about to drop a bomb.

“You know,” Debbie says casually, “Nolan once gave me a whole tree instead of flowers.”

You blink, taking your eyes off the TV. “Like… an actual tree?”

“He said, and I quote, ‘Why bring a branch when I can bring the whole organism?’”

“I kept it,” she says. “Still in the backyard. Useless man, but decent taste in flora.”

You clutch your heart. “That’s the bar. If Mark doesn’t deliver a redwood to my house within 72 hours, we’re over.”

As if summoned Mark walks back into the house with snacks and an expression of pure betrayal. “I brought you chips.”

“Does the chip bag photosynthesize?” you ask sweetly.

➽─────────❥

The ‘Pass the Phone’ challenge ensued.

Feeling strangely inspired (which should’ve been a red flag), you declared: “Let’s do the ‘Pass the Phone’ challenge!”

Everyone agreed way too quickly.

You started the recording. “I’m passing the phone to someone who still doesn’t understand TikTok.”

Mark raised a brow, sighed like a man defeated, and took the phone. “I’m passing the phone to someone who’s been on TikTok for five minutes and already has a fan club.”

He passed it to Oliver.

The purple boy—who was just happy to be here—beamed straight up at the phone screen. “I’m passing the phone to someone who once received a tree as a romantic gesture!”

He hands it to Debbie, who only laughs.

“Guilty as charged.”

➽─────────❥

╒════════════════𝜗𝜚

ACTUAL QUOTES FROM THE EVENING:

➥ „I swear to god if you post that TikTok—”

➥ „Too late. It’s already at 40k views. You’re famous now, tragedy boy.”

➥ „You said you wouldn’t bring up Amber! And—why are people simping over my MUM!”

➥ „Because she’s a baddie, Mark.”

ꪆৎ════════════════╛

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•∘˙○˚.⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨🐊୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ∘˙○˚.•

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Mark stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching his mom and little brother conspire with you over delusional fan theories and imaginary men.

“…I want in,” he said.

Everyone froze.

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I’m tired of fighting it. I need to understand the brainrot. Teach me your ways.”

Oliver threw his arms in the air. “HE’S CONVERTING.”

Debbie raised her wineglass. “To the dark side.”

You grinned, scooting over and patting the space beside you. “Welcome to hell, babe. First lesson—rank these fictional men based on how they would treat you.”

Mark sighed. “I already regret this.”

“You will,” you promised. “Now take this blanket. We’re about to watch a seven-part edit of Tim Cheese killing John Pork.”

“…and no, you can’t ask questions.”

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌ With Love, @alive-gh0st

[pinkmirth]

❤︎ ⋆ ࣪ ˖ 𝒞𝐻ℰ𝑅𝑅𝒴-𝒫𝐼𝒞𝒦𝐼𝒩𝒢!

𝒮𝑌𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮𝐼𝒮 ⨾ a little looksie into the castlevania men and their particular preferences . . . aka, the unavoidable “ass or tits” question!

𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜𝐼𝒩𝒮 ⨾ ( 800+ words of . . . ) multi!castlevania men x fem!reader (black coded); adrian ‘alucard’ tepes, trevor belmont, richter belmont, isaac laforeze, hector forgemaster, count olrox, mizrak, & vlad ‘dracula’ tepes; missionary, doggy, mutual masturbation, thigh-fucking, bdsm (spanking), explicit language, lowercase intended, minors shoo!

𝑀𝒴 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸 𝐿𝐸𝒯𝒯𝐸ℛ! ⨾ yes, i am being trivial and shallow because it’s fun & that’s a good enough reason! inspired by this post here; i just had to whip up something for our favorite wallachian men >.< please enjoy, and thanks for reading! 🎀

𝒜𝐿𝑈𝒞𝒜𝑅𝒟!

it’s far too obvious, i think; but he loves. him. some. boobies! adrian’s a tits man through and through, even if he’s got too much decorum to admit it. his actions say it all, though— he loves to lick them, knead them, tease your nipples with his teeth, rest his head between them, gently cup either one whenever he’s embracing you from behind . . . he’ll even motorboat them if he’s feeling naughtier than usual. now, that’s all out of pure habit. intimately, though? slotting his twitchy cock between your boobs is surely his favorite; and then there’s those times when he’s got you laid upon your back while he's situated between your spread legs, fucking into you from above. his cold palms lie at your waist, grip going tight whenever you squeeze around his pulsing dick, and his golden eyes are glued to your breasts like it’s all they’re good for. the way they bounce and jiggle with his pace is nothing short of mesmerizing. coming all over them in the end will make him lose his fucking head. whether it’s an unaddressed mommy kink or otherwise, he just can’t get enough of you (and the girls!) let him suck your titties and his entire day is made.

𝒯𝑅𝐸𝒱𝑂𝑅!

ass. completely, absolutely, undeniably, ass. he’ll smack it, eat it, grope it, anything. trevor pinches your butt whenever he wants to get a rise out of you, just to see how much you’ll blow up at him. (so what he finds it cute, sue him!) and, smacks at it whenever you’re feeding him an attitude. if he starts grabbing at it with rough palms, you already know what he wants; to fuck your shit up. unexpectedly, doggy’s the first position he’ll think to fold you into once you reach that bed. trevor curves over your arched frame, grinning at the ripple of your asscheeks against his pelvis. he’ll spit pure fucking venom into your ear while you take him. seals it off with coating your plump, pretty ass with his seed. the happiest man alive, he now is.

𝑅𝐼𝒞𝐻𝒯𝐸𝑅!

both! there are men out there who simply can’t bring themselves to choose, because both are far too precious; and richie’s one of them. how could you even expect him to pick? both parts of you are so soft, round, and feminine . . . if you allow him to get his hands on either, he wouldn’t mind in the slightest. this belmont’s skilled with his hands, might i add; his breast massages make you slump into him whine for more, and spankings don’t even feel like a punishment with him. as long as he can kiss down your body, mark the canvas of your flesh, and caress anything you’ve got in a pair of two, rich’s all yours.

𝐼𝒮𝒜𝒜𝒞!

thighs! it isn’t exactly a given option, but then again, this man isn't like the others. he loves the fullness of them, how warm to the touch they are whenever he rests a hand at your lap, and finds them to be the greatest pillow the entire world could offer. you stroking at his smooth scalp while he nudges his face into your thighs is his idea of paradise. speaking of, this man is king of thigh-fucking!!!! slots his cock in between the warmth of your inner thighs, urges you to keep them closed tight, and makes a mess of them by the time he’s done. his cum releases in streams, and spurts out to drip down your lap. but don’t worry, his tongue’s already out; as a gentleman, isaac always makes sure to clean up his messes.

𝐻𝐸𝒞𝒯𝒪ℛ!

tits! they’re perfectly squishy, which helps considering that he’s got loads of stress to rid himself of. one-finger less isn’t stopping him from giving the girls their much deserved attention! he’s slipping under your bra, brushing past your nipples, and kneading the mounds like he’s got nothing better to do. you know what’s his favorite thing to do with you and the girls? having you on your back with him kneeling above you, desperately tugging at his cock right before your face. you bring a hand down to swipe at your clit and match his pace; god, he swears you’re drooling. you suckle at his tip, and it’s enough stimulation to bring him to his peak. he’s then cumming all over your chest, some reaching your spit-streaked lips. has he ever mentioned how beautiful you look this way?

𝐵𝒪𝒩𝒰𝒮!

dracula simply adores thighs! a man of culture, this one is. as for olrox, he loves him some (man) titties. a nice, broad and firm chest is enough to put a smile on his face and a tent in his pants. then there’s mizrak, the ass-lover. grabbing it is his favorite past-time >.<

© 𝒫𝐼𝒩𝐾ℳ𝐼𝑅𝑇𝐻! ⸻ all rights reserved! do not steal, plagiarize or repost any of my works. please and thank you! 𝜗𝜚

[pitchsidestories]

¡vamos! II Laia Codina x Arsenal!Reader

GIF by idontknowwfc

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1528

summary: amid the joy and chaos after the final whistle in Lyon, Laia wasn’t just capturing the moment with her camera—she was capturing your love too. requested

author's note: hi everyone, this video was our inspiration for the fanfic. We can't wait to hear what you think ! 🥰🥰

disclaimer: everything in this fanfiction is purely fictional and nothing corresponds to reality.

Excited, Laia turned the film camera towards herself, her grip steady as she smirked at the lens, promising: “I’m going to film everything. Don’t worry.”

“Who gave you a camera?”, Katie raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-bewildered. The Irishwoman hadn’t noticed when one of the staff had handed the Spanish defender the small, portable device.

The atmosphere was electric. Arsenal had done what few believed possible at their chaotic start of the season. Now, as the final whistle pierced the air of the Lyon stadium, the players seated on the elevated bench began to rise, one by one, drawn to the pitch by sheer disbelief and joy.

Laia didn’t so much as blink at Katie’s question. She was already on her feet, swept up in the tide of teammates spilling down the steps.

“¡Vamos!”, she cried, beaming as the spring sun which bathed the pitch in golden light.

“Did she just fucking ignore me?”, Katie shook her head.

Chloe, hearing her, turned with a lifted brow and a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes: “She really does film everything, doesn’t she?”

“She doesn’t even know what she’s filming anymore. Laia’s just carrying that cam like it’s glued to her hand.”, Katie observed.

Up ahead, players surged towards their coach. Renée stood on the touchline, arms wide open, her face lit with pride and wonder. They vaulted the barrier in a blur of movement—laughter spilling out, boots thudding softly against the green grass, tears mingling with shouts of triumph.

“Laia!”, Mariona’s voice rang out, trying to flag her down—remind her, maybe, of what the camera might catch.

But Laia didn’t hear her. She had turned already, her eyes scanning, searching—until they landed on you.

The camera hung loosely now, forgotten at her side. Her whole face lit up, transformed by that unmistakable smile—the kind only meant for you.

You were standing with Alessia and Leah, all three of you suspended in that strange, shimmering moment after victory.

“Hi.”, Laia said, simply.

Mirroring her smile, your cheeks still flushed from the match, you answered softly: “Oh, hey.”

“You were great.”, she whispered into your ear, her voice low, proud.

Your face turned redder, but you smiled wider: “Thank you.”

“Y/n, they want to do a double interview with you and Lessi.”, Renée’s voice cut gently through the moment.

“Coming.”, you assured her, then turned to Laia, ready to say goodbye—but before you could move, she reached for you, tugging you in. Her arms wrapped around you.

And then she kissed you—fiercely, without hesitation, like it was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Laia stood there for a second after your lips separated, a huge grin plastered across her face. She just nodded and said, “Okay, cool.”

You winked at her one last time before heading to your interview.

While you mentally prepared what to say, Laia continued across the pitch. joy radiating from her as she made her way to Arsenal’s captain.

“Kimmy!”, she called out, pulling the smaller woman into a tight hug.

Kims eyes widened with surprise. “Did you just kiss her on the mouth while recording?”, she asked, half incredulous, half scolding, as she pointed to the camera still in Laia’s hand.

Laia followed her gaze and flinched: “What? Shit!”

“It’s fine. I’m sure they can cut it out before posting.“, Lotte said calmly as she joined them. Then, with a crooked smirk, she added, “Unless you want to go public with it.”

Laia shrugged: “I guess I’ll have to talk to her about it.”

“You should.”, Kim agreed with a firm nod.

“I will. But first I have to make more videos.”, the defender said, already raising the camera again and heading off to film more celebrations.

Meanwhile, you and Alessia were standing side by side at the interview area. Multiple microphones and a camera were pointed at you both, but you could barely take any of it seriously. You were still exhilarated from the game, the performance and the end result. It all felt like a dream.

So when Alessia was asked how she felt after the game and replied: “Yeah, we’re obviously buzzing.“, you couldn’t hold it together anymore. Her go-to word even made an appearance after such an important game. You had to fight to keep from bursting out laughing, though a little snort still escaped.

Alessia elbowed you in the side: “Y/n, stop laughing.”

“Sorry, Lessi.”, you coughed to cover your smile and trying to compose yourself

Alessia professionally ignored you and continued to reply to the question: “Everyone was just incredibly today.”

“Agreed, it was truly a masterclass from the team on and off the pitch.”, you added, pride clear in your voice.

“It really was.”

Just as the young journalist opened his mouth to ask another question, Katie appeared out of nowhere, grabbing both of you by the arms.

“Time to party!”, she announced as she dragged you off.

The reporter could only watch one as you were swept away and you almost felt bad for him. But celebrating this milestone with your teammates seemed much more important than answering a few more boring questions.

 “Follow us, we’re celebrating.”, you called out as soon as you spotted your girlfriend.

Nervously, Laia cleared her throat and pulled you into a quieter corner. “Amor? Can we talk?”

“Of course.”, you replied, though her sudden seriousness left you puzzled. Where had the cheerful Spaniard gone?

“So... I accidentally filmed our kiss—and unfortunately, we look very cute on camera.”, the defender confessed, offering a charmingly shy smile.

It was clearly not the explanation you had expected; a disbelieving laugh escaped your lips: “Wait, you did what?”

“Yes?”, the brunette replied, her chocolate-brown eyes sparkling with amusement.

You both jumped slightly as Daphne’s voice chimed in: “I told you, you two look great on film. I still have those photos from our last day out.”

For a moment, you closed your eyes, recalling the picnic the goalkeeper had mentioned—one of those first warm days in a London park when everything felt lighter, the sun warming the grass beneath you. It had been clear then that you and Laia were in love. The memory brought you a sense of calm.

“What do you think, amor? Should we post Daphne’s pictures of us before the video comes out? No more hiding.”, you proposed your idea.

Your girlfriend agreed: “I think we should.”

On the flight home, night had already fallen, and the lights below twinkled like stars. You settled into your seat beside Laia, who was rewatching the video she’d recorded earlier.

“We have to save this, so our future children can see how cool we were.”, the Spaniard suggested with a grin.

Mariona, seated directly behind you, immediately protested: “You two might have been together longer than Lia and me, but you’re far too young to be thinking about kids!”

Her Swiss girlfriend nodded in agreement, chuckling: “Yes—no baby talk on this flight.”

“Alright, alright, we hear you. Katie, hand us the drink.”, you requested with a mischievous smile, glancing over at the Irish defender.

She shook her head and protectively covered her champagne bottle. “Nope, it’s mine.” “Katie.” “You girls can have it—she’s clearly had enough already.”, Caitlin cut in, smoothly taking the bottle from her girlfriend’s grasp.

“Rude.”, Katie muttered, pouting.

“Gracias.”,  Laia said brightly as you both took a sip of the golden liquid.

Smiling, Mariona raised her own glass:” Cheers, chicas.”

“Cheers,” Laia replied.

Suddenly, you stood up, your voice thick with emotion as you lifted your glass for a toast: “To a day we’ll hopefully never forget.”

“We won’t! This is historic!”, Leah yelled. Earlier, in the post-match huddle, she’d reminded everyone just how special this moment was for Arsenal.

Kim’s eyes glistened once more. She had given nearly seventeen years to the club—when the midfielder first arrived, memories of their last European Cup win were still vivid. And now, they’d done it again.

“We made history today.”, she murmured softly.

Beth quickly pulled her into a hug.

“Don’t start crying again.”, she laughed.

“Shut up, Beffy. I’m not crying but you and Leah are.”, the captain protested, pointing at the two players.

Beth didn’t respond, just wiped at her glazed-over eyes.

Katie interrupted, raising her glass solemnly.

“Now it’s my turn. Tonight, we won through the power of friendship and lesbianism!”

It was such a ridiculous toast that the whole team burst into giggles. “You can’t say that!” Kim scolded with a smile. “Yes, I can,” Katie shot back, completely unfazed.

You knew they’d be bickering about this for a while, so you turned to Laia.

Her face was soft and full of love as she watched the other players.

“Our team…”, she whispered.

You smiled at her: “Yeah, I know. I love them too.”

“Yes,” Laia said, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “But I love you the most of all of them.”

You smiled against her lips, knowing this night would live in your heart forever — not just for the history you made, but for the people you made it with.

[kingkat12]

seven minutes in heaven (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: foul language, alcohol, book-accurate Roman lol, (and he is such a brat???)

summary: you really, really hate Roman Godfrey. but what you hate most, is that he doesn't notice you at all.

word count: 4,502

| next chapter →

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･seven minutes in heaven masterlist

I didn't like Roman Godfrey— not one bit. 

Everything about that spoiled brat was infuriating. All from the way he walked around as though he owned the town, to the way that he'd get a kick out of throwing tater tots at people. Fucking child. The amount of times I'd sat at the bleachers and watched him throw it at the cheerleaders, specifically aiming right down their shirts, made my blood boil.

Roman Godfrey believed that the world was his, including the people living in it. That's exactly why he dared to take such liberties. 

I specifically hated the way he'd move his hair out of his green, green eyes, the look he'd give me after he tugged my hair in the hallway with a sneer, and his sadistic need to claim his conquests in the absolute weirdest ways known to man. If we are to believe Brooke Bluebell from the cheerleading team, he also had an affinity for poking girls with needles in public just for the sheer thrill of watching them squeal. Because who would tell him off, right? I wondered if he was familiar with the word 'no' at all.

After the needle-rumour spread, I made sure to keep a few meters between us at all times. There was no way in hell that he would get away with doing that to me, anyway. 

And I would've stayed as far away from Roman as possible, had it been up to me. Sadly, my best friend at school was his cousin— just my luck. Letha, like the rest of the girls at school, was quite fond of Roman; since she was the oldest of the two, she somehow couldn't see that he had grown past the age of five, treating him as though he could do no wrong.

And this was why Roman was always invited whenever we would have study sessions at Letha's place. He would splay himself out on the bed, stretching out his long limbs, watching us as we worked and he lazed away. 

God, how I hated him. I hated the way his hair was kissing his forehead when he laid like this in Letha's bed, the way he'd grin whenever he watched me erase a wrong answer, and the way his cologne would linger in my system several hours after he'd left.

Currently, we were supposed to be working on the half-year assignment everyone in our year had to do. Letha was sitting at her desk with her back turned to us as Roman and I sat on the bed, each with our own computer. My meter-rule to protect myself from any incoming needles was impossible to implement on Letha's tiny bed, and I let out a huff as Roman's knee touched mine. I prayed to every God in the universe that he didn't have a needle in his pockets somewhere— I was quite fond of my knees, and would very much like to keep them intact.

"Five hundred bucks," Roman tried, nudging me. "Do this assignment for me and it's yours."

I rolled my eyes, shifting further away from him on the bed. "Do your own shit," 

He proceeded to sneer, watching me with his big, green eyes. "Six hundred,"

"No,"

"Seven?"

"Suck it, Roman," I cracked my knuckles, doing my best to get back into the flow of writing the assignment. It was so damn hard to focus when Roman's incessant sighing continued, almost as though he was being forced to take his own life. 

"Help me, then," he mumbled, moving closer to me. His leg was almost on top of mine, now. "How did you answer question b?" Roman leaned over me, his head now obstructing my view of my screen. In a flash of pure instincts, I closed my eyes, inhaling the scent of his hair that was tickling my nose. I couldn't quite put my finger on exactly what it was that smelled so good— him or the shampoo?

I got yanked out of my state when Roman pulled away, typing away on his own laptop, finally inspired. 

I couldn't help but sigh; I hated Roman. And I hated that he didn't notice me in the way I wanted him to. I hated the way he smiled, the way he'd so blatantly flirt with girls at any opportunity he'd get, and how my heart fluttered when he flirted with me once in a blue moon.

It only got worse when we were in chemistry class the next day, and Roman had caught me sitting all alone in the back. I wasn't sure what came over me and why I had allowed him to sit down next to me again— the last time had been an absolute catastrophe where he got the both of us kicked out for bickering too loudly, so I hoped it wouldn't be a repeat-situation. I really needed to make sure I was getting every drop of information out of class today, as we had a test coming up soon.

However, Roman was the absolute biggest distraction on earth. I knew this. He kept leaning over to draw crude drawings in my book, making me have to swat his hand away over and over; "Stop it!"

Roman huffed, leaning back against his chair with a bored expression on his face. "You're no fun," he whispered back. 

And this was when it hit me— maybe I wasn't fun? Did he really think that of me? 

... Maybe it was time to show him how fun I could be?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

When Letha mentioned a party happening this weekend and the fact that Roman would be joining, I couldn't help but feel a certain sense of dread— I knew what that would entail for him. He'd either disappear with a girl upstairs and/or get absolutely shitfaced, as always. And was I really going to put myself through seeing him disappear with someone else again just to prove I wasn't boring?

Yes— Yes, I was.

As I sipped my drink, I couldn't help but feel my hatred for Roman simmer and come to a boil— I hated how he had me doing the most ridiculous things known to man just to get a sliver of his attention. Why was a question I couldn't bring myself to answer. 

As I stood in the kitchen with Letha, I spotted Roman passing by the door, laughing with a friend of his. My heart thumped hard as I let out a shaky breath; "Letha, I have to tell you something,"

She turned to me, a beer in her hand. "Don't tell me you've killed someone again? I don't have the energy to drag another body out of my car today,"

"Ha-ha," I mumbled; had this been any other instance, I would've thought it was funny... but not right before I was about to tell her why I had come tonight. I dreaded it; I knew she'd disapprove. But just as I opened my mouth, ready to put my friendship on the line, I caught Roman backtracking and appearing in the door again.

"Girls!" He walked over, looking tipsy as ever. Up close like this, Roman towered over the both of us, and I had to look up an unusual amount to meet his eyes. "I've been looking for you all over! They're playing seven minutes in heaven downstairs, wanna join?"

Had this been any other night, I would've given him an immediate no— but tonight was different. Tonight, I was fun. Shrugging, I glanced over at Letha to check her reaction.

"That's so childish," Letha mumbled, sipping her beer. "I don't know, and I'm sure grumpy over here isn't too keen on that either—"

"No, I'm in!" My words came out like a panicked squeal which immediately made my cheeks burn. 

Roman seemed caught off guard by my reaction, but he eventually reached out to pat my shoulder, looking smug as ever. "There you go," he cooed, clearly teasing me. "Maybe you'll finally get laid or something!"

I was abruptly reminded of why I hated him so much in the first place. Swatting his hand off of me, I brushed my fingers over my shoulder where he had touched me, feeling a lingering burn. "If you think seven minutes is enough for everything that goes into sex, I think you need to lower that ego of yours,"

Letha bit back a smirk as Roman's lips parted in shock. Maybe the spoiled rich kid hadn't gotten a reality-check from his long list of women before? He eventually recovered from the diss, rolling his eyes; "Well, seven minutes with me can be more than enough. Need me to show you?"

Letha let out a loud snort, shuddering; "Ew, Roman! I've told you not to talk to my friends like that!"

As they turned to each other, bickering like siblings, I gripped the counter behind me with all my strength. I was almost compelled to agree, to say yes to letting him have a go, and I had to bite down on my tongue to stop myself. After a few drinks, I knew I could get a little loose-lipped.

It didn't take long before we all made it downstairs, everyone spreading out on the couches and chairs scattered in the basement. Letha and I sat down on a few pillows on the floor, far away from Roman and his rumoured needles. 

I felt my throat go dry every time the bottle spun around, landing on random people from school who later went into the empty closet nearby. But my attention was elsewhere; I watched as Roman put his arm around the girl next to him, whispering something into her ear which made her laugh. It made me want to slam my head into the wall behind me— I would rather pass out and bleed out than witness him picking up another girl again. 

I swallowed hard as the people in the closet came back out and the bottle got spun again. The first person was picked; a girl with long, brown hair whom I remembered from history class; huge bitch. Holding my breath, I watched as the bottle got spun again— it eventually slowed down and pointed to Roman, which made the girl's friend group cheer as though they had won a million dollars. It felt like my heart was getting ripped out of my chest as Roman got up from the couch, grinning from ear to ear. The girl he had just had his arm around wasn't as happy, to say the least.

This whole display was making me sick. I bit the inside of my cheek as Roman closed the door to the closet and the previous drinks in my system threatened to come up. Everything about this was making me sick. I got up, taking hurried steps to the nearest bathroom, planting myself on my knees in front of the toilet just in case.

I heard a few knocks on the door before Letha stepped in, looking worried. "I told you not to drink that vodka crap," she mumbled, locking the door before she sat down next to me on the floor.

I felt my tears press on as I grew further nauseous. "Don't mind me," I breathed. "I just need a minute." 

This only solidified my absolute and utter hate for Roman. Spoiled fucking brat— why did he have to make me feel this way? Why was my jealousy making me so sick and bitter?

Letha put her hand on my back in an attempt to soothe me; "Maybe I should drive you home?"

"No!" I said, fighting my gag reflex. "I need— I need to get out there again."

This only made Letha sigh, her hand now reaching for my hair to be ready. "You have a crush out there or something...? You know that you don't need this stupid game to get whichever guy you want, right?" 

I did my best to get up from the floor without immediately falling back down. Of course she didn't understand. 

"Seriously, hold on—" Letha grabbed my hand, holding me back from leaving the bathroom. Her eyes were just as green as Roman's, and up close like this, I could see all their similarities; the upward curve of their nose, the same full lips, and the exact same way of weaving their brows together in worry. "You don't need to do anything just because you want to prove Roman wrong," she said, squeezing my hand. "I know you came down here to make a point, but... do what's best for you, okay?"

"Okay," I mumbled, tugging at her hand. The seven minutes were almost up, and I wanted to see the look on that girl's face after she left the closet with Roman. I wanted to see the look of bliss in her eyes, the hint of red in her cheeks, and watch her inhale with soft, sharp breaths just like the rest of his girls always did. The best part of watching this, was imagining that the girl was me instead— that I was the one feeling euphoric, and not her. And on the other hand, the masochistic part of me wanted to feel my heart burn with jealousy and my chest tighten with the ache I had gotten so familiar with. "Let's go. Please."

My nausea dulled down as I sat back down on the floor, realizing Roman was back. Maybe it was good that I missed the moment they came out— maybe it was good for me to spare my psyche, just this once? As my eyes met Roman's across the room, I couldn't help but notice the dark satisfaction on display across his lips. It was almost as though he knew— or maybe it was the fact that I probably looked a little sick? Did he like the look of pain in my eyes? I was reminded of Brooke Bluebell and her needle story... how he liked imposing pain on girls he found to be vulnerable. The fucking needle thing would haunt me forever.

I barely noticed that the bottle had been spun again, and I was yanked out of my mind-storm when Letha nudged me. "You don't have to," she tried, nodding towards the bottle that was now pointing at me.

My eyes immediately moved from the bottle and straight to Roman, who seemed to grow further amused. There was no way in hell I would back down now— maybe this would change his outlook on me? I had to prove I was fun, after all. Shrugging, acting as though it was no big deal, I reached for the bottle, spinning it.

I couldn't help but ponder if someone up there in the sky was playing games with me when the bottle pointed at the one person I had hoped it would be.

The girl Roman had just been with protested; "What? That's against the rules! He can't go in two times in a row!—"

"Sure can," Roman shot in, watching my every movement like a hawk— something told me he was a little excited about this as well. He got up from the couch once more, walking up to me with confident strides, reaching out for my hand. 

As I looked up at him, breath short and choppy, I couldn't pry my eyes away from his. I had always imagined what it would be like to look up at Roman from this angle, to see the sheer look of satisfaction on his face as I— Oh no, my mind was wandering again, wasn't it? I did my best not to shiver as I accepted his hand, feeling our fingers intertwine as he smoothly got me up from the floor.

I didn't even dare to look at Letha in this moment, knowing how she probably felt about it, but I really didn't have time to dwell on it— and it didn't take long before Roman closed the closet door behind us, pulling me back into the moment.

We were quiet for a few seconds, the sounds of our breathing filling the closet— I didn't know what to say or do. The beating of my heart was so loud that I could barely hear my own thoughts, and the light in the small room was dim and warm, making it a rather disorienting experience. It didn't take long before I felt my back hit the wall, letting out a little wince; the alcohol was definitely doing wonders for my balance. 

Roman snorted at the sight, emitting a soft laugh; "Careful, there," 

I let out the breath I had been holding, happy that he had been the first one to say something. "It's the vodka," I mumbled, rubbing the part of my head that had hit the wall. 

Roman hummed; "Typical,"

"What is?"

"That you can't handle your drinks,"

I wanted to smack him— that was allowed in seven minutes of heaven, right? "So what if I can't? It's not a big deal,"

"Sure," Roman said, nodding to himself. "You just need to be broken in or something." 

I wasn't the biggest fan of his choice of words— I was also not a fan of the thought of Roman breaking me more than he had already done, all whilst being completely unaware of it. Choosing not to comment on it further, I switched the subject; "So when was the last time you didn't do anything with a girl in this game?"

He needed a few seconds to scour his brain; "Never, I think,"

Typical. "Even back in middle school?"

"... Definitely,"

I held back a rather large groan— I should've predicted this. 

Roman caught onto my eventual silence; "And I reckon this is your first time playing?"

"... Yeah,"

"Okay, I see," Roman ran his fingers through his hair, the usual smirk returning. "You know what usually happens in here, or...?"

I rolled my eyes; "I'm not an idiot,"

"I know," Roman's voice got lower, breathier, as he took a step closer. There wasn't much room for more steps, actually— it was getting rather cramped up at this point. "But if there's anything you've always wanted to try out and haven't dared to, now's the time."

My breath hitched as I hoped the thumping of my heart wasn't loud enough for him to hear. There were many things I wanted to try out, sure, but not here.

It was almost as though Roman could sense how nervous I was; he bent down a little, getting on my level before he whispered; "I won't tell Letha,"

... Oh? Feeling his hot breath against my skin, how dangerously close he was, was almost too much for me. The way he said it made me even more conscious of what was happening; I hadn't even told Letha how crazy I was about Roman yet, and I knew she'd be against it.

However, I was being served my biggest dream on a silver platter. Maybe if I got this bit over with, my feelings would subside and go back to being purely hateful again? 

"Okay..." I mustered up the courage, letting out a shaky breath before I opened my mouth to speak; "Could you maybe... kiss me, then?" My words came out barely louder than a whisper. "I've just had a really shitty night."

Roman's expression remained unchanged. "I'm sorry to hear that,"

"... No, you're not,"

"Okay, you might be right," He let out a soft laugh against my lips, and my eyes quickly darted down to his hands to check if he was holding a needle or not. One could never be sure... and this was how I knew my anxiety was through the roof.

"So... you want a kiss? That's all?" Roman asked, looking rather pleased with himself and the situation.

This was too nerve-wracking. I kept imagining that he would switch up and tell me no, that he would reject me somehow and make me the only girl at school he didn't want to do anything with— that would definitely make me hate him even more. In a flash moment of weakness (which I later blamed the alcohol for), I sighed; "Just... could you? Or am I asking for too much?"

Something about Roman's expression changed— he seemed to realize what I was actually asking for before I fully understood it myself. Not to make out, not to drown in one another, but the simplest of all things romance; affection. Something gentle, something sweet, just to check if he had a sliver of anything resembling that in his system. 

"You like me, don't you?" Roman whispered, nudging his nose against mine, eyes rounding out as he heard my breath hitch at the simple gesture. "This is what all of this has been about?"

Doing my best to still my breathing and not faint, I closed my eyes, revelling in the feeling. It was the smallest thing, yet it was a comfort in the midst of the conversation. "All of what?"

"Your anger," Roman let out a sigh, connecting our foreheads, closing his eyes as well. "You can't stand that you like me, can you?"

For some reason, I felt the urge to cry— I spent a few seconds pressing down the stream of tears that threatened to surface. Having someone say it out loud felt like a desperately needed release. "It's been a nightmare,"

Roman stilled, eventually letting out a hum which sent a shiver down my spine. "You know nothing about nightmares," he breathed against my lips. "If I tell Letha we fucked in here, you'll be living through your worst one."

For fuck's sake. I mumbled a curse as Roman laughed, clearly amused by the terrified look on my face. "No, I wouldn't do that," he teased, pulling away just a bit. "I'm not that bad, you know that, right?"

I huffed, not meeting his gaze anymore. Confessing to liking him had given him all the power over me in the world. "I don't know... You tend to be quite horrible,"

"And what horrible things do I do, may I ask?"

Oh, I was ready for this question— I had been ready for a while. "First of all, the fucking tater tots," I grumbled, meeting his amused eyes. "The fact that you pull my hair like you're five years old, you've drawn about a hundred dicks in my chemistry book, and the whole needle thing!"

"Needle thing?" Roman furrowed his brows— damn, he and Letha really had the same face, didn't they? 

"Yeah, the needle thing! Brooke told us!" Something about the confusion on his face felt rather satisfactory; your turn. "You pricked her and her friend Rachel and just... laughed, or something!"

Remembering the incident, Roman burst out laughing. "Oh, that!" he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Yeah, that was fun, I can't lie. So, okay, maybe I'm a bit bad, but... you still like me." His eyes were sparkling with mischief, and I knew it could lead to no good. "You still want to kiss me, so you can't be too scared? Or maybe..." Roman's hand travelled up to my hair, tucking a strand behind my ear as he smirked. "Maybe you're just a massive masochist?"

"What? No!" My protests were quick and loud— I wondered what the people outside this closet thought we were doing. "Roman, just... Ugh, fuck this, I'm leaving."

As I reached for the door, Roman grabbed my hand with force I hadn't expected of him, pinning it above my head against the wall. Like this, he was even closer to me than he had been just under a minute ago, and my eyes went wide with the realization that I could physically feel his bottom lip against mine, not yet coming together in the kiss I so desperately craved.

"I'm not going to make this easy for you," he whispered, words slow and low. Something about this whole situation was so intense, I nearly gave in to a shiver. "Whatever this will be, you and I... won't be easy."

"There is no you and I," I mumbled, feeling my heart beat up against his chest. "We do this once, and then we forget it." Please.

Roman hummed, a cocky grin spreading across his plush, pink lips. "You think you'll be able to? I have a feeling you've wanted me for a while,"

Fuck's sake. I hated him even more when he was right. My gaze hardened as it met his, and I wondered how much time we had left. No matter how mad I was at him, I still wanted to kiss him, just once. This might be the only chance I'd ever get, and I was going to take it. 

"Okay, then," Roman accepted my silence as an answer. Nudging my nose with his, he finally pressed his lips against mine with a softness I didn't know he had in him. 

This was not what I had expected. Something about this kiss was shaking up my whole view of the world, along with my view of Roman. The most obnoxious guy with an unmatched arrogance could... kiss like this? Like he actually had a soul? 

His lips moved against mine as though I was made of glass, and I felt his fingers intertwine with mine in the hand he was holding above my head. It sent shivers down my spine as my mind went haywire, wondering why he was being so careful with me. I brought my free hand up to cup his face, feeling how soft he was against my palm. I had expected him to be rough, aggressive... so what on earth was this?

Roman's arm snaked around my waist as he pulled me closer, and I let out a shaky breath against his lips— heat swirled in the pit of my stomach, feeling as though I was burning up from inside. 

But just as it started to get heated, two knocks were heard at the door; Roman pulled away, a victorious smirk in place as though he had successfully proved his point. "Thirty seconds left," he said. "Now, convince me why I shouldn't tell Letha."

What? Still trying to catch my breath, I felt myself freeze up. How was I supposed to think clearly when I was in this state? Roman's hand slid out of mine, waiting for my answer; "So?"

"Just don't," I breathed, putting a hand on my chest to feel my heart— did all of this just happen? "Don't tell her."

"That's not good enough," His green eyes were drilling into mine, and it was clear that he wished to corner me. Sadist.

"I'll do your stupid assignment,"

"Nope,"

"I'll... fuck, Roman, I don't know!" 

Roman snickered at my panic, fixing his hair, checking his clock; ten seconds left. "Fine, I'll be nice," he said, reaching out to swipe his thumb along the edge of my lip, wiping away some lipstick. "But you owe me."

Owe him? I wasn't the biggest fan of making a deal with the devil reincarnate in front of me. However, did I have any other choice? I let out a sigh of defeat; "... Fine,"

And this was when it truly hit me; I hated Roman Godfrey with all my heart— I hated the fact that he could make my heart flutter with the smallest gesture, that he could practically walk all over me with no remorse, and that he always looked so fucking good. 

However, at the end of the day, what I hated most... was how much I wanted him.

(a/n: thank you for reading!<333)

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°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･seven minutes in heaven masterlist

[evvyyypeters-fics]

A Ghost In the Bed

Perv!Tate Langdon x dom!f!reader oneshot

Warnings! Pure smut, porn w/ zero plot, masturbation (male), handjob, obsession, pantie fucking, femdom, a lil mommy kink, humiliation

In honor of it being officially Murder House season (to me at least) I bring u this masterpiece I created. Inspired mainly by @fear-is-truth

It was the blood moon tonight, and suspiciously every time the sun dipped under the horizon and the moon glared down onto the cold ambience of autumn, Tate’s libido sky rocketed. His eternal teenage hormones spiking to a point that was unbearable. And it didn’t help now that you were living in the infamous ‘Murder House’, Tate’s obsession with you dark and lustrous like the red glow of the other-worldly planet.

You were out at a friend’s house tonight, Tate had overheard you asking your mom to go, and she obliged as usual. Needing you so desperately, he craved. Imagining your soft skin, biting it, tasting it’s warmth. Feeling it tingle through his cold, dead soul. The harmonic string of melodies that he could pull from your throat as he buries himself in your flesh, caressing it, pounding you. Even the way your tits rested under your shirt, your cleavage peaking sometimes and sending sparks through his body, or the view of your ass as you walked up the stairs, always making sure he followed behind you just to see it and hopefully a glimpse of your panties that day from under your skirt. The ghostly feeling of his imaginations traveling straight to his cock, twitching uncomfortably in his pants. He needed relief, and he needed it bad. If only you were there to help him, if only he knew you wanted to help him.

At first his mind muttered silent prayers that you wouldn’t somehow find him desperately rutting into your favorite pair of cotton panties, his hand wrapped tightly around his shaft as he used the soft fabric to create a strangely pleasurable friction, his pre-cum soaking them with the perfect amount of lube.

The sounds were obscene, yet muffled by the cloth. On the other hand, his moans were not. Shamelessly he whined, whimpering obscenely as he came closer and closer to the edge, using his fantasies of you as fuel as he fist fucked into your panties like a bunny in heat, but there was no final wave. No release, just the aching feeling of the weight of his hard cock, pounding. He was starting to get too desperate, his thoughts drowning as all he wanted anymore was for you to save him from this torment. He didn’t care if you hated him for it, he just needed your touch. Your comfort. To cum.

“Tate…?” A familar voice chirped curiously, the door creaking open.

Shit. He thought. You were back early.

He instantly sat up, hiding his proud cock with a nearby pillow resting on your bed. His face was beat red, his eyes watery and skin persperating with small beads of sweat. Pupils blown, his jaw slack as he stutters an excuse than hangs from the tip of his tongue, it’s clear what happened. Tate was ready for the scream, the insults, the anger, the disgust. But there was none, you surely looked surprised, but he couldn’t see any distain in your staring eyes.

“Why are you back? You weren’t supposed to be back yet!” He blurts out a little loudly, his voice trembling. He didn’t mean to be accusatory, you knew.

“I got bored and wanted to come home..” You reply slowly, taking invisble steps closer towards the bed.

“You know…what are you doing in my bed, Tate?” You ask, wanting to taunt him in his vulnerable state, see how far you can push him and make him melt even more into a puddle. He shivers as he begins to notice the growing warmth of your body leaning closer to his frozen position on your mattress. Hoping your eyes don’t look down at the conspicuous pillow, anxiety striking his heart as just in that moment you do. There’s something predatory in it that makes his spine shiver.

“N-Nothing. I just…missed you.” The words are forcefully calm and monotone, trying to sound casual. A dumb excuse he came up with spontaneously that you both knew didn’t work to hide anything.

“You missed me, huh?” You smile devilishly as you press a hand in the mattress next to him, his whole body lighting on fire, his breathing begins to labor with the pure lava of lust flowing to his dick. Your hand mere inches away from where he needed you most.

“Is that all?” He swallowed thickly, his eyes darting from your hand to your gleaming eyes.

“I—uh.” He chokes on his words. “N-no..” He admits shamefully, his gaze tilting away.

“Do you want me to help you fix it?” You lean into his ear, whispering hotly against it which makes his face light up pinker, every hair on his body on end.

He swallows thickly again before nodding.

“Use your words, puppy.” You croon, pinching his chin between your fingers and gently forcing his glossy coffee eyes to look at you.

“P-Please.” He whines, causing your heart to squeeze a little.

“Good boy. Let mommy see.” You smile slyly, pulling away your hand as he lays back comfortably into the mattress, removing the pillow from over his length as you climb beside him. Kneeling over his legs.

“So naughty.” You tease as you pull away the sticky pair of panties wrapped around his shaft, precum beading thickly at his tip as he twitches from the touch or lack thereof.

His hips automatically jerk up, trying to reach your hand as you pull away the material. A small giggle slips past your lips that makes him whine into a bitten lip.

“Poor baby, all worked up, I won’t tease you any longer.” You coo, prodding a pad of your finger at the practically purple pillowy head.

He instantly lets out a muffled gutteral moan, covering his mouth with the back of his hand, embarrassed by the pathetic sounds as you wrap your hand around him. Collecting the slick and coating his cock with it as you start a leisurly pace that slowly picks up, leading him to buck into your fist wildly.

“Let me hear you, puppy.” You say softly, watching between his perfect cock and his adorable face as he tries to hide the very obvious sounds bellowing from his throat. “Let me hear those pretty sounds you make.” Forcing a gutteral sound to spill from his lips as you press a finger into the sensitive head.

Your words make his heart and brain melt, the feeling of your hand on him being even better than he anticipated. He can feel himself getting closer, hips slamming at the same pace as your fist, pre-cum drooling over your hand as he moans pathetically. The sound of his voice getting thicker and more desperate, his muscles tensing.

“Cum for me, puppy. C’mon, let it all out.” You soothe, something clicks in his brain and he instantly busts, long and thick milky ropes shoot out, more than you thought was possible and drawing a long moan from his lips as his head pushed back into the pillow behind it. His thighs shuddered, toes curled until the ropes subsided and rested coated on your hand and his cock.

“Feel better?” You ask, slowly removing your hand as he comes down from the high.

Practically drunk on pleasure and blissed-out, he nods silently.

“Good. Next time, maybe just ask me first before jerking off into my panties.” You scold light-heartedly as you raise up the half-crusted fabric to the culprit’s gaze and he quickly hides his blushing face guiltily.

Taglist (you can be added or removed at any time):

@fear-is-truth @xkaisxjazzxsingerx @lemoniiiiiii @jazz-berry @marchsfreakshow @colinzabelswife @dearlizzies @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @xrag-dollx @lacucarachapisser @alittleobsessedbitch

[vad-hander]

I Love You More

pairing: Jaebeom x reader

others: Jinyoung, GOT7 members

genre: fluff

warnings: idol GOT7!au, married couple, pure softness, crying

Words: 1,1k

______

short soft one-shot inspired by GOT7's concerts this weekend and them being so emotional and crying and saying a lot of things that tore my heart apart. Jaebeom will always hold a very special place in my heart and I was excited to write this! I haven't written for got7 in years, so let me know, if you're interested in more

alsooo, I've never posted anything this short, so let me know if you enjoy stuff like this and I should be doing more of it!

_____

You stood in the corner of the waiting room, your eyes trained on the only man that actually mattered in your life and as the teardrops streamed down his pretty face your heart squeezed in an attempt to pump blood into your head and steady out its beats. Your heart ached, but you held back from crying  in this moment with him - if he’d see your tears you knew it’d be an undying contest of emotional breakdown and you didn’t want him to go through that. You loved him too much. He only ever deserved love, happiness and much easier life than he was living now. 

Jackson patted Jaebeom’s head and the staffs that filled the room tried to continue with their duties, but also be mindful of 7 crying and sobbing men in the centre of that room. Your gaze shifted to sobbing Mark and the way teared up Youngjae and Bam tried to calm him down. At least this view wasn’t tearing your heart into pieces. As a figure approached you, though, you had to readjust your eyes and focus on the man in front of you. The very next moment Jinyoung’s very warm hand grabbed yours and pulled you behind him. He felt your resistance and turned around, reading your face expression perfectly.

"I think he really needs you to calm him down." Jinyoung pulled onto your arm once again and you followed. "Hey, Seunah" Jinyoung called out in an attempt to whisper, but making it more of a low growl. Jackson, raising his head and seeing Jinyoung pulling on to you took a step back. Giving you space to come closer and giving you two space for privacy. Jaebeom raised his head a little, as he felt the loss of contact and took a few blinks to focus his teary eyes on you. Both Jackson and Jinyoung respectfully took a few more steps back and as you approached Jaebeom a little more, you couldn’t hold back a pout. Jaebeom straightened his back properly and it seemed the tears streamed down his face at a much lower pace. You pursed your lips and took a little step closer, not forgetting precaution and turning around to read the room - everyone seemed busy with themselves and their duties. But in all honesty - you couldn’t just stand and watch him any longer, even if the people watched you two attentively - your heart ached the moment you saw that first tear fall down his face back on stage. 

“You did so well-.“ You still whispered, everyone acted busy, but peoples’ ears were always perked up. Jaebeom blinked more tears down his face. Shit, you only made it worse for him. “Everything went so perfectly. You worked so hard. I’m so proud. These should be happy tears, everything worked out amazing. Right?“ you tried to give Jaebeom a smile, your words only made the tears fall down harder, while Park Jinyoung expected you to do the opposite. “Ah-, love, don’t cry.“ You finally sighed and reached a hand to his face, cupping his cheek and making a lame attempt at catching the teardrops - it did seem impossible. The waterfall that streamed down his face was impossible to stop with a finger. Jaebeom leaned in into your touch and closed his eyes. You tried to caress the softness of his cheek, while not making it too inappropriate for a working environment. “Everyone’s so proud and everyone are so thankful for the things you do. You’ve put so much hard work into this, it’s okay to cry. I can’t even hold back my tears for you and ah-.“ Jaebeom suddenly draped his arms over your shoulders and lost his face in the crook of your neck. You patted his nape in a very weak attempt to calm him down. He seemed crashed, drained and exhausted. You really wished you could lift him up just like that and transfer to bed and let him get as much sleep as he needed - doesn’t matter if its 12 hours or a week. You watched him work so hard all these weeks to make the concerts possible, you watched him all those years make all those things possible while also being a sweet and loving husband to you. “I just hope it’s tears of relief. As long as they’re not tears of pain - it doesn’t matter. We could cry all night long, right?“ You tried to give him a little kiss, forgetting all the work space boundaries in your head, landing your lips on his jaw. You patted his nape a few more times, moving your arms lower - you gave his waist a squeeze and rubbed your face against his shoulder - the sobbing man in your arms seemed to calm down at least a little. 

“I love you.“ you breathed out, somehow in unison with Jaebeom and as shocked as you were at the silly little coincidence, Jaebeom moved back a little and looked at you properly, with no tears falling out of his eyes,  beautiful irises focusing on you. 

“That’s silly of us.“ You giggled, moving your fingers to dry out the tears on Jaebeom’s cheeks. 

“But I, definitely love you more.“ He even made a weak attempt to smile and made you feel more at ease yourself. The air suddenly felt lighter and the second time he tried to make that little smile - the smugness on his face, your chest burned with love. Jaebeom covered your palm with his and moved it closer to his mouth. “I wouldn’t be here without your support.“ You knew exactly what he meant by that, how hard it was for both him and you to get his mind to a better place. You weren’t about to shy away and act like you weren’t behind it all. In a great partnership with the man himself, of course. 

“I know.“ You accepted with a playful nod and watched his lips give your palm a kiss with a smile. You were glad you could refer to dark times with a joke and a smile now. Jaebeom let go of your arm and tried to dry his face with the shirt he wore. 

“Ah!“ Jinyoung materialised behind you, his firm palm on your shoulder making you jump in place. “Nothing like a wife’s touch that could calm a man down.“ He teased happily, wrinkles round his eyes as he smiled were the reason for a little upward motion on the corners of your lips. 

“Sh! Shut up, there are strangers in this room.“ you hissed at the man, feigning annoyance. Jinyoung ruffled your hair with a teasing face expression.

“Hey, show some respect.“ you played back, your unending battle of teasing continuing every time you opened your mouths.

“Right, show some respect to my wife!“ Jaebeom chimed in, regret on his face immediate, as the both of you knew the comeback would be explosive. Jaebeom wrapped an arm around your waist, you not being sure whether he was backing you up or wanted you to back him up in this.

Jinyoung, though, already moved on -  looking at the members and then at his leader and giving you nod. 

don't forget to like and follow for more <3

[ashwhowrites]

So I watched Hoard and had to write a little something with it. But of course, Eddie Munson style. More importantly, perv! Eddie Munson style.

Inspired by Hoard, but not a play-by-play of the film. I'll leave the surprises to you. I didn't want to wait a week to post it so here's a bonus read for the day! I hope you give it a read, thank you🫶🏻

Hoard Blurb

Eddie laughed as Y/N lunged at him, easily dodging her as he jumped to the other couch. The sound of Y/N's giggles traveled as she jumped after him.

He groaned when she tackled him, sending both of them to the hard floor. She landed on his back, his stomach flat against the ground. He could hear her laughter dying out, and the slight feeling of her hips shifting. He stayed still when she moved her hips again, and a shuttered moan left her lips.

Y/N was his best friend, a very innocent and pure girl. Her parents kept her closeted to everything, and they'd flip their shit if they ever met Eddie. She was new to everything, fresh meat in high school and Eddie clung to her. Her confused and scared eyes lit a fire inside of him. He could smell the chastity on her and craved to be the one to ruin it.

He felt his pants getting tighter as her hips moved faster and she began moaning. That same fire lit inside his stomach as she moaned louder.

"Angel? What are you doing there?" Eddie asked, a shit-eating grin on his face. He felt her body go still.

"I don't-don't know," she said in heavy pants. Eddie could already picture her naive eyes.

He easily shifted, now on his back as he looked at her. He softly grabbed her hips.

"Did it feel good?" he asked, slowly moving her hips for her.

"Yes," she sighed, feeling that amazing feeling again. She followed his movements and moved her hips the way she was before. It felt better than the other position.

"Yeah? Go a tiny bit faster and it'll feel even better," he edged her on. His eyes rolled back when she planted her hands on his chest and moved her body faster.

He bit his lip as her body really started to get into it. He could tell she was feeling something good from how loud her moans were getting and how much faster her hips moved. She didn't know what she was doing yet she knew what to do.

She was rubbing right against his covered cock, and her hands gripped his shirt. She was making Eddie go crazy, he wanted to tear off her clothes and push his cock inside of her. Not stopping until she was crying and begging him to stop. But he'd never do something so cruel to his soft girl.

He watched with heavy eyes as she trembled. The way her chest heaved as she panted, her mouth wide open as she let out every sound her body forcefully made.

"Eddie I-I" she choked out

"Just keep going, baby. Keep moving," he moaned. Selfishly trapping her hips down and moving her against him. He thought about doing nasty things with her all the time, and this was the closest he ever got. And he was not going to waste a second of it.

He fought with everything in him to keep his eyes open. He didn't want to miss a second of how she looked while she had her first-ever orgasm on top of him.

His eyes glued to her as hers rolled into the back of her head. Her body fell forward, trembling as she gasped for air in his ear. He couldn't help but buck his hips forward. He could feel the wetness from her shorts soaking down on him. He whined as he felt himself cumming with her, a few seconds behind.

He felt nothing but a body as he bucked his hips up and moved her hips. Forcing her poor raw clit to rub against her shorts, making her body get him off, with consent of course. The way she screamed but whimpered for more.

He felt his cock twitch and he came. His warm cum filled his boxers and he flinched at the feeling. He shivered when she landed an unpracticed and wet kiss on his neck, his hands still on her body.

He watched as she moved her hand down to her clit, softly pressing it and hissing.

"Ouch, it hurts, Eddie," she cried, her eyes full of fear

"It's okay. We just don't touch it for a while," he said, leaning in to press soft kisses to her face. "Let's clean up and go to bed, yeah? You were so good for me, I bet that can make you real tired."

She melted into his words, letting him stand back up and pulling her with him. She landed on her soft feet and reached for Eddie's hand. He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

[timeforaneclipse]

I'd give you my soul for some Avis Amberg fic, I swear!!! If you're up for a request, could we see Avis flirting with you the entire time out at an event, riling you up, up, up. Ik you did some light smutty stuff for Falling Apart (I loved it sm), and if you're up for it, you drag her off for quick dirty bathroom sex, but if not, just her teasing the ever loving shit out of you "Wait till we get home, you'll see just what mamma has in store for you. ;)" I have so many feelings 🫠 about this woman, and your writing is amazing! Anyway, ily have a good day 🫶

Tease. (Avis Amberg x reader)

Warnings? - Filth. Pure filth.

Tracing your finger tips over the green fabrics that hugged your figure, you took a minute to admire the dress. It was soft. Never before had you worn something so.. expensive looking. You almost felt out of place despite of the small fond smile that you had on your face. Avis had gifted you the dress for your birthday one evening. You were quick to tell her that it was too much but the older woman was quick to hush your protests. In truth, you never would've thought that you had the need for such a magnificent piece of clothing. Giving your circumstances but Avis was insistent. And like always, The older woman was proved right. However, just seeing it on for the first time? It made your heart race in ways you couldn't explain. You could barely believe that it was you in the mirror. It was perfect. A sigh escaped your lips as you tidied up your hair and thought of the older woman. The situation... between the two of you was nothing with but a... favour. At least that's what you convinced yourself it was. But as time continued on the two of you got closer, you began to question.  

A knock came from the bathroom door and you glanced over to it like it had said something utterly horrific. "You haven't fallen down the loo, have you?" Ellen's voice rang from the other side of the door. You softened, chuckling as you remembered you were in fact not alone. You unlocked the door for the older woman and her smile became one of admiration. "My..." The blonde inspected you over. "You look.... beautiful." She hummed, a hint of pride in her voice.  "Avis will love it." She hummed deep in thought. Your heart fluttered at the thought of Avis. "Are you ready to go? This celebration won't wait for us." The older woman urged. Right, of course! The party... The whole reason you were in this stunning dress in the first place. 

You nodded with a smile. "Avis will meet us there?" You asked, curious to how the evening was to go. You knew that Ace would most likely be accompanying her tonight but for some god unknown reason, Avis wanted you there too. Ellen was quick to lead you to her car. Arriving at Vivian Leigh's mansion, you couldn't help but look for Avis' car. Nothing your wondering gaze, Ellen smirked to herself and shook her head. 

Once inside, You turned your head in the direction of the voices a head. Unsure if you could handle the massive crowd you gave a nervous look to Ellen who had returned with a supportive look in her usual soft eyes. "This is important." She hummed. "If you want to be an actress you need to network." She urged like a mother encouraging a child to do their homework. Your lips became thin. You understood her reasonings but most people here were pricks. Or rather snakes as Avis called them. So against your better judgement, You heeded the older woman's advice and began to socialize. You had spoken to a few other inspiring actors and a couple of Ellen's friends but your eyes were always drifting off to find Mrs Amberg. Wherever she was. 

It wasn't long until you felt a hand on your lower back. The soft lingering touch made your stomach flutter as you turned your head to the slightly smaller woman beside you. A wide grin appeared on your face. "Avis." You smiled like a fool. Avis looked floored as she got a full look at your dress. Her eyes darkened as she eyed your cleavage. A smirk on her red lips.  "It's good to see you." your honesty hung in the air for a moment. It had been a while since you had actually last seen the older woman. Avis' husband, Ace, began to grow suspicious of her outings and the older woman had wanted to keep things on the low for the time being. 

"I always did say green was your colour." She hummed, deep in thought. "The dress looks divine on you, baby...." She whispered, her grip on the verge of becoming possessive. Your cheeks began to glow as you held the older woman's intense gaze, heat pooling through you. "Mamma's been so lonely without you." She whispered thickly into your ear. Her other hand run down your side as she watched your reaction, entirely gleeful with the effect she was having on you.  She then walked away, leaving you utterly speechless. You shook your head and cleared your throat as she gave you a snarky cheeky smirk, putting an extra sway in her hips as she walked away. Your throat became bone dry. Oh god... 

During dinner, You manage to snatch a seat in-between Ellen and Avis. You raised an eyebrow at the talk at the table. You couldn't help but be completely lost... They were using this terminology that you had never heard of before, it was as if it were all a different language. As you ate, you suddenly felt a shoe trace up and down your calf. You swallowed and gave a light warning glare to Avis but the older woman just looked at you innocently with a small smile. Not heeding your pathetic warning, her hand began to rest on your thigh, gently tracing her feather-light touch over your upper leg. Your grip on your fork tightened. Curse her. Leaning close, the older woman scanned your flustered state. "You always look your best like this, baby." She purred and took a sip of wine.  You followed suit. Also taking a drink. "Needy and unable to do anything about it.... Just a desperate-" Without warning and without much thought, you had purposely splashed some of your wine wine onto her chest. The older woman stared, utterly baffled by the change in events. By the audacity you had to splash her. Her dark brown eyes narrowed in annoyance and she stood. "I'll be back." Her lips were tight and became as thin as a line. 

Sighing, you stood and followed her as she stormed towards the bathroom.  Once inside, you locked the door as she turned on her heel to look at you. Her eyes piercing. "Don't you think that was a bit immature." She glared heavily. "I mean what are you? Five?" Avis rolled her eyes but before she could continue to tell you off, Your lips crashed against hers. Her eyes twinkled for a moment, widening before closing. Melting into the kiss. Avis' whimpered and deepened the kiss. Desperate for more. One of her hands cupped your face while the other curved around the back of your neck. She hadn't had you in weeks. And now? Now you were finally in her arms once more. Her brows furrowed and her grips tightened. Afraid that you'd disappear. As your arms snaked around her waist, you pulled back from the kiss and began to lick and nibble at her neck. A rumble left the older woman's throat and she leaned her head back slightly, Allowing you more access. Her finger began to weave their way into your locks and she gasped as your kisses became more rough. As you bit and sucked at her pale flesh, you were cautious of leaving visible marks. Despite how much you yearned to. You wouldn't dare. Not without her permission and certainly not while Ace was circling like a vulture. 

You travelled down her neck and Licked away the alcohol that you had spilt on her. Pulling back, your eyes softened as you took a moment to admire the goddess in front of you. She raised an eyebrow at your pause but smirked like the devil when she saw that look in your eyes. She pulled you into an embrace and stroked your hair. She adored your hair. "I really did miss you..." She admitted quietly in a whisper. Her perfume invaded your senses and you hid your face into her neck... "Now come on... show Mamma how much you've missed her, Baby." She chuckled and pulled your chin so that you'd look her in the eye. It was her turn for her lips to attack yours. Her lipstick smeared all over your face as the desperation she was truly feeling became more clear. 

Continuing from where you had left off, You kissed her neck. Your hand messaging her breast. A moan nearly escaped the older woman's mouth but she was quick to bite down on her lip, eyeing you as you worked on her. Your hands found the zipper to her dress and you gave her a look. Silently asking for permission to continue. When Avis gave you an encouraging nod, you pulled on the zip. Unclipping her bra, you began to suck and above her breast a little, trying to catch her reaction. You lowered, licking over her nipple. The older woman gasped and her grip on you tightened. One of your hands went to her waist, holding onto her as the other messaged her other breast. You began to kiss her stomach. Worshipping each section of her body. Leaving nothing untouched. Avis watched you and softened. She moved some of your, now untidy, hair out of your face. "You look so beautiful, Avis..." You whispered so quietly that she almost missed it. Her breath hitched as you continued as if it was nothing. A second nature. Your words shook her to the core, despite the innocence of them. She nearly teared up. Since she had to distance herself, she hadn't those words from anyone. Especially not from Ace. It meant the world to her. To hear your praise once more. Even after so many weeks. 

Avis yelped in surprise as you lifted her onto the counter, her eyes widening almost comedically. You opened her legs and stood in between them and placed a few kisses along her jaw. Her legs pulled you closer. Your hands gripped onto her hips as you knelt down. Avis' hands went to the counter's edge, gripping onto it for dear life. You raised an eyebrow as you looked at her lace black underwear. "God, Avis your soaked." You smirked, eager to get some revenge for earlier. Her eyes sharpened like a hawk. "Here you are doing all your teasing and yet your the one whose wreck." You giggled. 

"Just you wait, baby..." She hissed, annoyed by your cockiness. You laughed and took off her underwear and spread her legs a little wider. You kissed the inside of her thighs. She hummed in pleasure. "You can leave marks, darling." She whispered. You paused for a moment as you processed her words. Your heart leaping at them. Wasting now time, You bit down and began to suck. leaving a few red marks over her inner thighs. She whimpered and leaned back. Needing more. So, You gave her your tongue. A loud slut worthy moan escaped her when your warm wet tongue go up her soaked entrance as her back arched. Needy for more. Your eyes widened at her noises. You paused and glanced to the door. She seemed to share you thoughts because her panicked eyes were also staring at the door. You shook your head in relief. Nothing seemed wrong. You turned your attention back to her and ran your tongue up her again. Trying to aim deeper as you did. Your hands gripped her onto her thighs as her hips bucked into your face. Your fingers teased over her clit causing her to gasp. You continued to eat her out. Your teeth scraping against her as you circled your tongue. 

You let one finger enter the older woman. Curling it. Her breath hitched as she breathed out your name, her head rolling before you knew it. You kept your eyes on her reactions. One of her hands left the counter and she reached down and grabbed you free hand. You stared for a moment as your fingers locked with the older woman's. She squeezed your hand as you added another two fingers. She squirmed. Rolling her hips in you hand to meet your movements fast paced. Suddenly, You stilled. Her eyes snapped open, Panting she looked to you. "Do not be a bitch." she growled as she watched your smirk. You felt her inner wall contract and removed your fingers. Gobsmacked, the brown eyed woman looked like she was seconds away from slapping you. You licked her juice's off your fingers. Breathing heavily, Avis licked her lips.

You leaned foreword with innocent eyes. Your nails scratched the back of her thighs making the older woman tremble. "Beg, Avis." Your eyes looked her over. She was.... So perfect in the moment. Despite her obvious anger but that just kept up the thrill. The older woman bit the inside of her cheeks. You raised an eyebrow and licked her clit. "Beg, Avis." You repeated, Looking Avis in the eyes. The older woman's eyes rolled back slightly she was already soaked enough. 

Swallowing her pride, She clutched your hand tighter. "Please, darling..." She whispered and pulled you towards her. "I need you... My gorgeous girl.... Come on... help mamma out?" She continued as you gave her gentle kitten licks. You settled perfectly between her legs, using your fingers, teeth and tongue to bring her closer to the edge. The older woman was a mess. Like putty in your palms. "Yes, baby..." She moaned and her gripped the counter with her spare hand. Trying to keep herself steady. Weak moans echoed in the bathroom. You continued to rub your thumb over her clit. You didn't dare to focus on breathing. Giving your all to Avis. Her walls clenched around your fingers and tongue. Her noises drove you on. Then, without warning, Everything came crashing down. She cried your name went still above you. You let her ride out her release . You licked her clean and looked to her hand. Softening when you realised her hand was still in yours. Locked together. 

You stood and held her for a moment. Keeping her close. "You did so well, baby." The older woman smirked dazed as she stroked your cheek. "Just wait until we get home." She chuckled and traced her finger over your lips. Wiping away her juices. "then you'll see just what mamma has in store for you." You went a deep shade of red and leaned into her touch. Your heart raced as her gorgeous deep eyes sucked you in. She kissed you, tasting herself on your tongue. She smiled into the kiss. Wanting to hold you for longer. It wasn't long before you helped her get changed. You had already been missing from the party for too long and you both knew it. Your heart felt like it was being torn in two when you watched her return to her husband. And leave you behind. 

Ellen frowned and eyed you. "What's wrong?" She asked softly, stroking your arm. You sighed and crossed your arms. Hugging yourself, missing Avis' presence. But then you needed to remind yourself what exactly was between you both...

"I'm afraid I've fallen in love, Ellen."

。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆。·:*:·ﾟ★

Hello darlings! I hope you enjoyed reading!

I would like to point out that I'm dyslexic so I'm sorry for any mistakes.

Is it good? How are we feeling? Tell me everything!! I'm always reading the comments and looking for your thoughts and taking them into account and they help a lot with motivation.

Lot's of love and I hope to see you in the future! 💜

(Remember to continue to thank and praise Patti Lupone in our prayers)

[hvnsinureyes]

𝒹𝓇𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓃’ 𝒾𝓃 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒷𝑜𝓎𝓈. . . | luka dončić

summary | luka gets a new car and somehow you end up giving him head in it. whoops!

warnings | nsfw!— m. receiving oral, road head (do not do this in real life 😭)

author’s note | inspired by this…also i haven’t written smut in months so, sorry, i tried! practice makes perfect ig?

luka always had an eye for cars. you always forget the exact number of how many he owns, but it’s definitely somewhere in the double digits. lately, he’s been raving about wanting a new one– a bugatti. 

truthfully, you don’t know a thing about cars. but it’s hot when he starts going into detail about the mechanics of a car, the engine and its horsepower, what the brand is known for– all that car guy stuff. his eyes get excited, his accent gets even thicker, and you get to watch his veiny hands wave around as he explains to you. 

it was only a matter of time until he bought it.

“what happened to being responsible with your money?” you ask, teasing as you elbow him. the bugatti sits in the driveway of your shared home, sparkling under the hot californian sun. after all, the only thing stopping him from getting the car in the first place was the price. he only shrugs, a sheepish look on his face. 

“he gave me a good deal,” he says, scratching the back of his neck, “i couldn’t say no.”

“couldn’t? or you didn’t want to?” 

the silence he gives speaks volumes. you’ve come to learn luka can never say no to two things: you and sports cars. 

“luka…”

“anyways,” luka moves on quickly, bringing you closer to the car, tracing his hand against its curves, “i wanna take you out, drive it around for a bit.” 

“but–” 

“please, come on, baby.” he says, eyes pleading for you to say yes. he even bends his knees to get down to your eye level. “i promise i’ll go slow. nothing crazy, 10 minutes and we’ll be back home.”

you sigh, giving in as always. “fine.” luka beams at you, pulling you towards the passenger door and opening it for you. the interior of the car is somehow even better than the outside, with pure colored leather seats and an elegant design. luka quickly slides into the driver’s seat, the car roaring into life as he shifts gears. the whole time, he wears a proud smirk, as if he’s saying, “it’s nice, isn’t it?” 

and you can’t help but agree.

the bugatti drives smoothly on the road, air filled with the small murmur of chatter between you and luka, just talking about random aspects of your day and what you plan to do later. although you try to distract yourself by admiring the surrounding area, the way luka looks right now is starting to get to you. he’s gorgeous, a better sight than the pink and orange hued sunset outside. 

sweatpants hanging dangerously low— showing off a tiny piece of his happy trail in the process— sharp eyes focused on the road, large hands flexing against the steering wheel (when really, they should be on you). maybe its the air he drives with, confident and… manly. 

or you’re just horny. two things can be true at the same time after all. 

you look down at his pants and grin, knowing no matter when or where, he’s always needing you somehow. “luka? sweetheart?” he hums, still looking at the road as he steers. 

“try not to get distracted.” 

he’s quick to arch a brow and ask you what you mean, until he feels your nails creeping closer to his groin. oh. your eyes flick over to him, seeing if he’s against it at all, but there’s no change in his demeanor— except for a light blush on his cheeks. 

taking your seatbelt off, you lean closer to his crotch area, untying his sweatpants so you can finally get to what you’ve been craving for. luka lifts himself up to let you bring down his pants a bit, the tent in his boxers finally exposed. 

the moment you start to palm his boner, luka quickly curses out in slovenian, darkened eyes flickering down to see you and your shit-eating grin. it’s almost laughable how easy it is to get him to fold so quickly. it makes you want to ruin him even more. “c’mon, don’t tease,” he says, frustrated with you. 

“what makes you think you’re in any position to tell me what to do?” 

“i can pull over right now and show you myself.”

fair, you think as you pull down his boxers, aching cock popping out. he’s hard, no surprise. 

with the bat of your eyelashes, you drag your tongue up the shaft of his cock, bringing your mouth down to take him all in. “ah, fuck me,” his breath hitches, overwhelmed by the warm feeling of your mouth. 

on instinct, luka weaves a hand into your hair, grip tight but not painful. you can tell he’s more on edge now, seriously doing his best to make sure the two of you don’t end up on the news for such a reckless act. you feel the car slow down a bit, luka using his hand to guide you up and down his cock. 

the sinful noises of you gagging on his dick echo throughout the car, spit and drool gathering in your mouth, making a white ring around his base. “keep going, just like that, baby,” he says, voice rough. you let him thrust his hips up, fucking your mouth as you gag around him. 

“where do you want it? your mouth?” 

you nod, desperate, pleas muffled by his cock. with a grunt, luka moans out your name, tears forming in the corner of his eye. you feel ropes of cum hit the back of your throat, swallowing every drop until he finally lets you up.

he lets go of your hair as he pants, trying to get his breathing even once again. that was risky— but hot. “you’re…” he trails off, “dangerous. very dangerous.”

“you still liked it though,” 

“hell yes, of course,” you giggle at his silliness. you glance at the front view mirror, gazing at the state of you, mascara ruined, hair messy, spit coating your lips. even when you look a mess, he doesn’t hesitate to bring your lips to his, tongues clashing as he tastes himself on you. 

“you’re going to be the death of me.” he says, breathless. you smile, shrugging shyly. now it’s luka’s turn to look as if he wants to ruin you. the car's speed changes suddenly, luka pressing down on the gas. there’s only one destination on his mind. you whip your head towards luka confused, “what happened to going slow?”

“we need to get home quick. i can’t wait anymore.”

“for what?”

“what else? i need to take care of you too.”

[lustytears]

i wanna turn you on.

loser!luke castellan x f!reader

summary: (title is inspired by the smashing pumpkins - today) luke castellan basically watches you from your cabin window and mutually (but not mutually) masturbates with you.

warnings: smut, luke is a bit weird. luke is giving virgin but that’s up to the reader honestly, reader gets sexualized by luke, written in mainly luke’s perspective but it does switch to the readers, masturbation, bathroom breaks (if you catch my drift from the previous tag), luke is a manipulative piece of shit but it’s very hard to know at first read.

You weren’t kidding when you had the sneaking suspicion that one had always been watching you. All of your darkest moments felt violated, invaded, or even threatened.

Maybe you thought wrong. That’s what everyone else thought when you confessed to your friends, saying that “Nobody would bother to try and watch you” or, “You’ll be fine. Camp’s safe.”

What you were unaware of was that Luke Castellan, the brave and noble leader who aspired many at camp for his dedicated devotion to his people and the gods.

Were you wrong to think otherwise?

•————————————————————————•

He was desperate. Desperate to understand you, feel you, and even taste you. His heart (as conveyed by those personal to him) was kind, logical, and even charming. He welcomed everyone who was unclaimed, and those who were claimed. The sweet little “heys” and the “hellos” are what people paid attention to. His demeanor and morality were nothing but pure.

You knew that for some reason, Luke had the right intentions. But for some part inside of you, something twisted his image into something so much more darker and malevolent.

He wasn’t dark, neither any of the things you thought. Contradicting, yes—but he couldn’t help but stare at you whenever you walked past, staring at the back of your body and sometimes your ass. He tried to snap out of it, tried so hard to keep his control, but he couldn’t help it.

He realized that you were his new obsession. Occasionally, Luke would sometimes go to the bathroom stalls to stroke his painfully rock-hard cock that leaked small beads of pre-cum, wiping onto his hand and leaking all over the base of his cock. His mind would drift to how your voice was maternally caring, sweet and dripping almost like nectar. Your lips and the way they would part open and close, rubbing them together against your pink-glossed lip gloss. The thought of the sticky consistency and shiny glow of your lips wrapped around the base of his cock as he steadily thrusted his cock hard and fast into your mouth like it was nothing but made for him would make him grip the top of the stall door.

Luke would try to feel disdained by these thoughts, try so desperately to think of other problems he had. But you were his only problem.

One day around Camp, he noticed how one of the Ares boys were sticking around you like you were some kind of fly trap. The boy would try and lift you up, slinging you over his shoulder like you were some prized possession.

“Put me down!” You laughed as you nudged your body, particularly your hips noticeable to both the boy that was carrying you and to Luke.

The Ares boy took notice of the sudden tension and put you down, before accidentally (but obviously, not totally) pushing your ass into his pelvic region when he grabbed your arms and pulled you back. You’d laugh, the impact of your ass in those little black shorts bouncing against his center drove Luke fucking insane.

Luke ended up getting one of the hardest boners ever to pain him, and he would occasionally watch your body move around, your hips swaying and the way your ass was barely fit into your outfit made him palm his cock, pretending to adjust his jeans.

On a dark night, Luke realized that you had the same routine. Specifically, it was your night routine. He didn’t expect to remember it, but he remembered one specific incident where he followed you to your cabin.

He watched as you opened the door and closed it, slamming it behind you in what may have been frustration. Then, he got the idea to get a closer look.

Luke inched near your window, crouching below the window pane just to see perfectly into the dimly visible light that instantly let him see into your own world. It was so wrong, but it was so worth knowing that the blinds were pulled up all the way, almost as if you personally wanted somebody to watch you like you were a product on display.

You walked around the room, his eyes following your every step, even when you sat down on the bed and looked through your dresser, going through the top drawer that contained your underwear and nightwear. Pulling out a black mesh nightgown, you got up and started to strip down to your bare and naked body. He carefully focused on how the t-shirt you wore hiked up above your amazingly flawless breasts. The way you pulled it off and threw it down to the bed caused the two of you to moan, unknowingly so. You seemed frustrated with something, but he was high as fuck on this moment.

His cock rubbed against the barriers holding him back, and it wasn’t getting better. When your thumb tucked underneath the waistband of your underwear and shorts, you pulled them down and off your legs. Your ass was visible for him to see, and he dared to peak his head up a little more to see how it motioned as you walked to your bed.

He expected you to put back on your nightgown, but he thought so, so fucking wrong. You flopped down your bed and pulled your legs up to show him how your pussy looked dripping wet. His mouth dropped, his hands going down to his pants and subconsciously unbuttoning them so he could stick his dick out through his boxers and thrust his half-erect cock into his fist.

But he didn’t want to touch himself just yet. He needed to see more. What more could you give? It didn’t make any sense, but it finally did when your long and slender fingers tucked under your weight, where you parted your cunt apart with two fingers in a ‘V’ shape. You moaned as the cold air hit your hot and wet pussy. Luke’s hands fumbled to pull his cock out, his eyes glued to the way you were now dipping your middle finger into your sopping wet hole. You pressed a finger into your gummy walls and started to create a rhythm along with your hips and your hand.

He rubbed the leaking pre-cum all over the tip of his cock, pretending like your thumb was doing so. He wrapped his palm around his dick and jerked himself up and down in a slow and deliberately painful manner. Your fingers moved to your clit and began to rub it in a circular motion, your lips all puffy and your eyes closed from the pleasure you were giving yourself. So much was going on for you that your back arched off the bed, and Luke’s cock was being fucked even faster from his own hand. He whined a bit louder, involuntarily thrusting into his own hand. The both of you could sense your own respective releases, and it wasn’t slowing down anytime sooner.

Luke would whisper his name to his own self, pretending like it was you who was calling it out through the muffled sounds of your moans inside of your cabin. Your legs twitched and two fingers were now deep and invasive inside of your tight cunt.

He hoarsely whispered to himself. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum so hard all for you,” softly swearing as he could feel his own semen dripping out of his cock and lubricating his fist.

Your fingers worked harder, and your clit was getting rubbed to the point where it felt like it was numb for pleasure. You let out a steady and sharp moan, lifting your ass off of the mattress and pumping now three digits into your pretty and pink pussy. He watched you, all goggly and eyes wide like he’d miss one second of you. He couldn’t waste the opportunity to miss you cum.

Luke was now practically moaning and hyperventilating as he let out a sigh and came all over the place. Webs of white and hot cum coated his overstimulated cock and the fist of his hand. You followed along, cumming and tightening all around your fingers as you vocally expressed one of the best moans one could ever experience in an orgasm.

All tired and weak, your legs fell down against the bed as your swollen clit pulsated from such intensity.

With realization, Luke snapped his eyes down to see the mess he made just crouching below your window. He groaned, shaking his hand to get rid of some of the cum that was on his hand. His cock was now soft and finally pleased, so he tucked his cock right back into his boxers and pulled up his jeans, remaining low and among the bushes before he know it was safe to walk alone.

When Luke was approached by a wandering cabin mate, he’d just make an excuse.

“Couldn’t sleep. Had to kill time,” knowing damn well with a smile that you just solved his nightly frustrations.