#Cut Straight Wire

[anpingdongmingwiremesh]

Loop Tie Wire

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Address: Industrial Park, Anping, Hebei, China 053600

[itshomobirb]

my therapist, during our last session, asked me what would happen if i put up boundaries between my parents and i. like saying "that's a personal question" if my mother started asking invasive questions.

so i tried it. told her "that's a personal question" when she asked "it seems like you're not drinking as much water lately. are you?"

ladies and gentlemen. besties and brothers of the jury. from the woman who tracks my bowel movements and rifles through my trash and monitors the cameras for every time i leave the house, we got the oh so glorious response of, "oh geez, borb. *really?* you treat us like we're strangers. this is not how you used to be. 😒"

[gods-favorite-autistic]

Bro the school WiFi’s been out in two separate school districts for the past like 3 or 4 hours and so many people were supposed to be testing

[basiltonpitch]

they didn't cut my wires short enough and i didn't notice until after i already left oh my god ouch

[icannotgetoverbirds]

I'M FREE BITCHES

PERMANENT RETAINERS BEGONE

[blkkizzat]

Otaku!Gojo would 100% be the type to make Bunny do nerdy kinky photos like TCG cards covering her naked body😭 and prolly be super corny but loving asl

OTAKU!GOJO WHO HAS YOU MODELING FOR HIM.... "if i get a paper cut on my pussy Toru imma kick your ass!"

"if you get a paper cut on your cute lil cunt ill kiss it better and eat you for 3 hours straight."

it sounded more like a threat then a consolation so you stayed still and silent while Gojo and his professional camera with a monstrously long lens (almost as long as the monster currently poking against his sweats) snapped photos of you in a custom princess lelia looking bra in panty—made entirely of TCG cards.

How Gojo had managed to even make this is out of craft glue and some wire string, you don't know. you don't even know how he surprisingly made the garment fit you like a glove just from your mere measurements alone as he had no previous tailoring experience. Initially you refused to wear it, yet you knew these first edition holographic digimon cards meant the world to Gojo—some there was no guarantee he'd ever find another copy, so the fact he would effectively destroy them to make you a lingerie set in a odd way, still is touching to you. You're blushing even harder realizing that despite his many obsessions and kinks that consume his freetime, you're still the most important thing to him by far—even if he had the craziest ways of showing it. Snapping photos from every angle Gojo tells you to "look sexy" but the cute lil pout on your face turns him on all the same (truthfully any expression would have been sexy to him) as he coaxes you to bend over, the fat of your pussy lips exposed and slick as the cards near your slit warps and shrinks from the moisture. Gojo exposes, like always, his twisted lil kinks had a way of turning you on too. "heh, im gonna have to make the panties out something stronger next time, this cards are no match for you drooling pussy." you whine, which is so cute to him and he loves you so much he can't resist ending the photo shoot early reaching out and snapping the panties right off of you.

truthfully he was going to eat you out for 3 hours straight regardless...

otaku!gojo series

[sagesparrow394]

Hetch, making Sneeg’s mind control wiring: Let’s put it in a hat and force him to wear it

Hetch, making Charlie’s: Cut open his head. Put it straight in his brain. Drill glasses into the side of his skull. Make it impossible to remove. Fuck this guy in particular.

[daryltwdixon]

Daryl x Reader fluff

prompt: "You can stop hugging me now." | "No, I don't think I can." @creativepromptsforwriting

Summary: Daryl returns from a long trip with something he found, quietly revealing that you’ve been on his mind all along. fluff. drabble.

a/n: just trying to get the writing juices flowing again, been feeling a little bit of a block so thought I'd try this prompt!

The sun hangs low, painting the woods over the fence of the watchtower in warm amber hues. You're peering through your binoculars as Alexandria stretches out behind you, quiet except for the occasional clatter of someone working on the fences. You have one earbud in, listening to your Walkman that's strapped to your hip. The tiny device is temperamental, but it still works, and it’s the one thread tying you to the world before everything fell apart. The music is just low enough that when you adjust your stance, scanning the perimeter again, a distant rumble draws your attention.

You lower the binoculars, squinting against the light until you spot it. The familiar shape of Daryl’s motorcycle cuts through the dusty road leading to the gates. A smile tugs at your lips as you turn to look over the railing down at the gate.

“Sasha,” you say, snagging your earbud out by the wire, “Daryl’s back. Open the gate.”

“Copy that,” she replies, composed and straight faced.

You watch as the gates roll open and Daryl rides in, the low growl of his engine fading as he kills the ignition. He swings off the bike, crossbow slung over his shoulder, and pauses, his eyes lifting to meet yours. Even from this distance, you catch the flicker of something in his gaze—relief, maybe, or something warmer.

“You just gonna stare, or you comin’ down?” he calls, his voice carrying easily in the still evening air.

You smile as you shout down at him, "I'm on duty!"

You watch as he shakes his head and makes his way over. Backpack in hand, he starts climbing the ladder to your perch. By the time he reaches the top, you’re already leaning against the railing, looping your ear buds up to put away. You really hope he can't see how your heart hammers in your ribs when he is near.

There’s something about him that always pulls at you, no matter how much you try to ignore it. Maybe it’s the way he moves, like he’s part of the world but never tethered to it, or the way he notices things without ever calling attention to himself. It’s in the roughness of his voice, the quiet steadiness of his presence, and the flashes of something softer beneath all the grit. You’ve caught yourself watching him more times than you’d like to admit—how his hands move when he works on his bike, the way his brow furrows in thought, the rare curve of his lips when he smirks. And now, with him this close, the familiar tug in your chest feels undeniable.

“Got somethin’ for ya,” he announces when he reaches the top, his voice hoarse from not seeing people for days. He crouches down in front of you, awkwardly pulling something from his bag. A small, rectangular cassette tape catches the light as he holds it out.

Your breath catches when you see the cover. It’s your favorite artist, one you thought you’d never hear again.

“Figured....well, you’re always listenin’ to that thing,” he says, gesturing toward your Walkman. His voice is gruff, but there’s a nervous edge to it, like he’s not sure how you’ll react. “Saw it. Made me...made me think of ya.”

You take it from him, fingers brushing over the cracked plastic of the case, lingering on the edges as if holding it too tightly might make it disappear. Flipping it over, you see the album cover, worn but intact, its familiar image bringing an ache to your chest. Your thoughts stumble, scrambling for something to say, but all you can focus on is the fact that Daryl thought of you. 

He thought of you.

While he was out there, risking his neck for the group, scavenging scraps of the old world, searching for strangers who might one day be allies—he thought of you. The image of him out there, surrounded by danger at every turn, with walkers and worse waiting in the shadows, and still having a moment to think of you, makes your chest tighten. Despite the chaos, the noise, the relentless fight to survive, you were on his mind. Not just as another member of the group, but as someone he cared about enough to bring back this small, fragile piece of comfort.

The thought is overwhelming, pulling the air from your lungs, leaving you dizzy with the weight of it. Because in a world where everything is fleeting, Daryl Dixon thought of you.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re moving. Your arms wrap around his neck, catching him off guard. He stiffens, his hands coming up to hover over you, almost unsure if he should touch you. After a heartbeat of not letting go, you feel his voice vibrating in his chest.

“You can stop hugging me now,” he grumbles, though his voice wavers just enough to betray him.

You tighten your grip, pressing your cheek against the warmth of him, breathing in the smell of musk, of pine and leather and cigarettes--so uniquely Daryl, “No,” you whisper, the words soft but sure. “I don’t think I can.”

For a moment, he doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe. Then, slowly, his hands settle on the small of your back, tentative but steady. The air between you shifts, quiet and charged, the unspoken things you’re both too afraid to say hanging in the space.

When you finally pull away, his cheeks are tinged pink, and he’s looking anywhere but at you.

“Thank you, Daryl,” you say, holding up the cassette tape like it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever owned, "Seriously."

He shrugs, his eyes flickering to yours for just a second before dropping. “Ain’t nothin’.”

But the corner of his mouth quirks up, just a little, as he turns to climb back down the ladder, leaving you with the music, the sunset, and a heart pounding harder than it should.

[spurbleu]

oldman!price x reader angsty (?) drabble

‧︎✳︎༚︎‧︎⁎︎°︎

age leaves john price in tantrum.

he despises what it’s done to his body. the creak in his knees when he walks, the strain in his shoulder when he reaches across the table. steam engine, ironclad and coal hot, neglected the rust on the belly of its stirrups. adopted a sudden fragility he cannot stand.

takes a literal force of nature to get him to retire, and he grieves it like a father. it, in all honesty, was one. taught him how to shoot straight, how to hold his men, how to be without feeling like he’s an imposter in his own skin. forced him to grow up- which is ironically exactly what ended their alliance.

nursed whiskeys, fattened ice kissing the base. smoked like somehow- fossilized in ligero- he’d find his youth again. blistered under reluctant mortality, indulged in fatal vices because if anything is putting him in the grave it’s a gun or a cigar.

a pot never boils watched, yet you stay at your designated post by the doorway while he broods (he’s a dramatic at heart), storm clouds stamped on the collapse of his shoulders.

if you were one of his soldiers, you let him fester.

but you were his wife.

it wasn’t like you hadn’t aged yourself, silver linings sprouting from your scalp, sun spots and bleached knuckles. even so, you found time to pick up his medications, comb through amateur food blogs for gut health and bone pain, roll the aches out of his shoulder before bed. you were kind- and it was insulting.

spitfire catching on the burs of his muttonchops- unfamiliar with dependence. he was a captain for Christ’s sake- alloy lighthouse, built by cement and sheer fucking will. he didn’t need to be hand fed vitamin C and dragged to yoga class. he pitched barbed wire, dug his shallow trench and intended lay in it.

until, one evening, thunder strikes him out of dewy acrimony. he clambers up the stairs, musk of tobacco and spite plants a grimy boot in the oak. he glances over the railing, and stills.

bathroom door, cutting swaddled atmosphere with thin bisque, a pyramid down the center of the hall that created the illusion of darker corners. centered in the odd, domestic scaffolding was you- shower damp and concentrated.

it was like watching a bird preen feathers. tugging at the sags, yanking at the silvers, skin pitching at the nostril and eyes narrowing into thin keyways. and if he squinted, sniper accuracy rendered tears. sallow river bed on your flushed cheeks, clumped lashes, a frown that broke hearts.

“you’re never struggling alone, John,” you had said one evening, when he had been foolishly apathetic, “i’ll make sure of that.”

he hadn’t said anything.

guilt squirms at the base of his neck. the stranger named comfort that swelled within your embrace unnerved him so much he had forgotten to introduce himself. and now, milking moonlit lighting, with a wife who thought he was hiding from her, he called himself what he had never been as a soldier.

a coward.

you were making tea the next morning, windows surrendering a warmth when the day was still docile. it was while you were humming that your husband, sneaky bastard, folds you into the plush of his chest, drowsy lips dragging on the cusp of your shoulder.

“you always look so beautiful in the mornin, darlin.”

and it was true. you’ve never looked better to the old man.

[a-killer-obsession]

OKAY I DID IT, I FIGURED OUT THE LAYOUT

Disclaimer: it seems like the size of the ship changes every time we see it, but the newest eps vs wano seem pretty consistent so I went with that and used Wire's height for scale

Floor layouts under the cut ✂️

Edit: you can find clearer/more detailed versions here

Layout based on the 31 member crew that Oda confirmed. I also took in to account that a significant portion of the members are fucking massive, so everything is bigger which matches the scale it's drawn in. Floors are approx 5m high with 2m wide doors in most places, which makes sense when a good portion of the crew are 3m tall.

Sorry about my handwritting lmao I'm so tired but I have serious brainworms and couldn't sleep

The specifics:

Kid's Floor

Of course he has his own floor

Quarters include his own private dining space which I imagine would also include a workdesk, bedroom with king sized bed and probably a couch, walk in closet, and bathroom definitely large enough for a massive tub

Workshop also has bathroom entrance for when he's feelin lazy

Ladder space in the middle goes straight through, this is so crew going to the castle deck don't access his floor

Commander's floor

Heat, Wire and Killer have their own rooms and a private lounge just for them and Kid

Heat and Wire share a large bathroom, definitely big enough for normal bath

Heat and Killer have king sized beds, Wire's bed is almost as wide as a king but mostly it's made especially long

Small decking that runs the whole way around, unspoken rule that crew aren't allowed there since windows peer into commander's rooms

Killer could probably fit a drumkit in his room 👀

Cannon Deck

We get peeks of this in the anime and in Oda's notes but they're fuzzy so I just did my best

Made a mistake tho, cannon platform should be whole way around back like a U shape to account for 3 cannons facing backwards, total 9 cannons

Theoretically this is where the helm should be so uh that's where I put it

Screenshots make it look like they also store a lot of other weapons here

Main deck

Forecastle includes navigation room with bookcases, central table, and desk for paperwork

Forecastle also has infirmary with two longer than normal beds to account for larger crewmates, and a desk for crew doctor to keep notes

Door between nav and infirmary cos Kid is lazy

Kitchen and pantry. Given the rooms are 5m from floor to ceiling I imagine that pantry would have a small mezzanine accessed by a ladder to take advantage of vertical space (and would be a sick place to nap)

Galley/dining hall contains 3 bench style tables, seating 10 large crewmates each, with one extra fancy chair at the end of one for Kid

Lower deck

Did my best to do some math to figure out how many larger than normal beds were required and decided on 6 bunks for 12 larger crewmates

Additional rooms for average sized crewmates include 4 rooms with 2 bunks each, and one room with 1 bunk, making for a total of 30 beds below deck. That means, counting the commanders for the 31, there are currently 3 empty beds, so a few rooms aren't complete full

Probably looks like fuck all space but its actually significant for a ship living quarters

According to google you only need 1 toilet per 10 people and 1 shower per 40 but that seems like BS. Bathroom has 4 large, accessible sized toilets, 4 showers, long benches down the center and a long counter with plenty of space and mirrors for makeup, given how many crewmates wear it

Also, storage room. Could be converted to extra room for another bunk

Hold

Access via ladder

4 cells. No toilets, you get a bucket ✌️ tbh might not even have beds but there's room for em anyway

Desk in case they need to keep an eye on prisoners

3 storage rooms, but i think one of these would actually be a torture room. Probably the one by the desk.

Mechanisms for power and water are probably in one of these rooms as well as a lot of materials for ship repairs

Also of note

Crows nest is definitely big enough for a bench, definitely big enough for... activities. Not as big as the Sunny's though I dont think a gym would fit, I think it'd be more likely that gym equipment is kept on the cannon deck

Idk if the mizzenmast is supposed to go all the way through but that physically can't happen with where the helm needs to be based on screenshots so ✌️

Crows nests are definitely access via climbing nets

Please absolutely feel free to use this as a reference for fanfictions, but I'd appreciate a shout out if you do 💖

[onlyswan]

i’m back to give you my iw!couple brain rot 🤲, please handle with care.

but !! imagine jungkook and oc doing that “see how long we can go without kissing” challenge !! how would fold first? they’re both so competitive but smitten it makes me conflicted. 😣😣

knowing them, jungkook would be twitching his eye just from the thought of being deprived kissies so would oc give in first to let him win? or would jungkook just take what’s his?? 🤔

imagine oc being a blushing mess from staring at jungkook’s face for too long 😵‍💫 THEYRE SO CUTE I CANT THINK STRAIGHT😭🫶

summary: in which jungkook is twenty-six years old and yet… you still give him butterflies.

idol!jk x reader, established relationship / word count: 0.7k

content/warnings: sexual tension, making out, it’s honestly just them fighting over who gets to be on top

> in which masterlist!

note: hehe hi anonie… sorry… i kindaaa got carried away… i had to write out the thing or else i would’ve gone insane just talking about it <3 (written with love and care) <3

—

“i don’t understand this challenge.”

“me neither,”

jungkook remains in a hypnotic-like trance, doe eyes trained to your lips stained with a lighter shade of mixed red and brown.

“we’re this close and we can’t kiss…? this is absurd.”

“do they actually do this in bed? with someone on top?” you chuckle as you coyly twirl a lock of his hair around your finger. “i don’t think so?”

“i don’t know. i just wanted you to be comfortable.” he teasingly brushes his nose against yours, and the air in your lungs becomes suspended. “since, you know, we’ll be here a while.”

“oh wow. bringing me to bed, really? you’re that confident?”

he cockily raises an eyebrow. “hm, we both know you won’t be able to resist me here. you’re all over me all the time.”

you try not to roll your eyes in annoyance. and you also both know that you’re just as competitive, if not more.

“oh my god, you,” you mumble. the calm of your voice contrasts the aggressive push of your hand against your boyfriend’s naked chest. “and your stupid arrogance and your stupid need to flaunt your stupid hot body.”

in the blink of an eye, jungkook finds you stradding him, and himself, trapped underneath your body. he blinks in disbelief, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“this is dirty.”

you remove his glasses, moving it aside without care. “that’s just your mind.”

okay, perhaps bringing you to bed was a bad idea.

you lean down, slowly, close and then closer— it’s quite ridiculous that he’s nervous as if he doesn’t know what is bound to happen next: he’s thoroughly convinced that you’re going to kiss him.

once he feels your lips ghost over his, mere millimeters away, his eyelids flutter shut.

terrible idea. terrible.

the kiss, much to his disappointment, never happens.

he opens his eyes and your face is suddenly tucked in the space between his neck and shoulders, giggling and shaking and positively amused.

he turns away and squeezes his eyes shut. a painful admit of defeat against your infinite allure. “ah, i’m fucked.”

“we’ll get there later,” you lift your head, tilting his chin to face you.

you smile and scoot closer. so close that your bottom lips grazes his. he fails to remember the last time the two of you touched as chastely, as softly, but it felt like accidentally touching a live wire. he gets a funny feeling in his stomach. butterflies…? he’s twenty-six years old. he must be losing his mind.

“after you lose.”

“that’s not happening, baby.”

“yes, it will.”

“i won’t give up so easily.”

you give him an innocent look. “but i really think you will.”

you stare at each other for a little while, anticipating the other’s next move.

“fuck- yeah, okay-” he grits his teeth, taking advantage of his strength to finally flip back your positions. you’ve had your fun. “you’re right.”

“babe! ru-”

your surprised gasp is cut off by jungkook’s lips crashing on yours— curved into a smirk, you can feel it. your whines are muffled and swallowed by him, wrists caught in his hands and over your head because you were hitting his shoulder and he just wanted to kiss his baby properly.

“you lost,” you remark quietly when he draws back, only inches away, to scatter kisses along your face and down to your neck.

it tickles, you squirm in pleasure when he reaches near your collarbone, but your hands are still tied.

you were supposed to have him underneath you as a hot and flustered mess, not the other way around. damn it.

“really?” he feigns interest, lips finding their way back to yours. “doesn’t feel like it.”

[anpingdongmingwiremesh]

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[annievrse]

joyride

chuuya x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic summary: you and chuuya go for a drive w/c: 1.2k c/w: suggestive [mdni], reader gets called wife & good girl heh a/n: obvi inspired by kesha's joyride

“We're going for a drive.”

Chuuya gives you no room to decline as he unlocks the car Mori provided for the mission and slides into the driver's seat. You stand staring at the red car. Of course, it's red. A red Ferrari, at that. You roll your eyes at the unsubtly and open the passenger's door.

The mission was tough, and you assume Chuuya needs to drive the anger out of his system. Usually, you wouldn't encourage such destructive behaviour, but you can't help the giddy feeling rising in your chest when your boyfriend drives.

The 812 purrs to life, and Chuuya grips the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white. He'd slid his coat and gloves off before you got in, sitting in his crisp white dress shirt. You inhale deeply, reaching over to slip his hat off his head. Orange locks fall free and frame his face. You place the hat in your lap and thread your fingers through his hair. Chuuya says nothing, but you know he appreciates the affection.

As industrial streets slimmed into the flat countryside, paddocks stretched like a midnight quilt stitched together with wire fences. The moon provides little light behind the clouds as the road fades into the night, and the reflective broken lines fly by in flashes. Driving on country roads at this speed is stupid and dangerous, but you feel like you are flying; it is almost freeing. Besides, when Chuuya drives, you feel at ease. You trust him more than yourself, especially with the addition of Upon the Tainted Sorrow.

The car is warm despite the cool air conditioning, and you squirm in your seat. Chuuya accelerates when he passes the final car on the stretch of the road. Natural gravity forces you back into your chair, your stomach rolling with adrenaline and fear. You can't look over at Chuuya, so you stare straight ahead with a smile etched on your cheeks. 

You are hyperaware of Chuuya's movements. He changes gears fluidly and turns corners smoothly; you can't help but admire his handiwork. You glance at the odometer, reading 160 on the dial, and your stomach lurches. Silhouettes of trees pass like ghosts, and your hands sweat where they rest on his hat. You were never good with being in fast cars, but having a boyfriend and a best friend who loves being behind the wheel was something you had to digest quickly. 

“You good?” Chuuya's breathless voice cuts through the thick air. Your head turns toward him. You try not to speak while he drives this fast, 125mph. Instead, you nod.

“Use your words, I can’t look at you.” His eyes remain on the dark road. You tongue the inside of your cheek, a smirk on your mouth.

“Yeah, I’m okay," You sigh. Your stomach churns as the road curves, and your hands are firm on your legs. 

Chuuya shakes his head and paws at your thigh quickly before he places it back on the gear stick. Goosebumps rise on your skin, and you look over at him. He's so devilishly handsome that you feel you may sin if you dare to look at him, even after all this time. Strands of red hair fall lazily over his forehead and blow softly in the air conditioning.

As Chuuya turns a corner faster than recommended, you quickly lift his hat and fit it over your head.

"You're gonna kill me," Chuuya mumbles, sparing a glance in your direction. His cheeks are rosy, even in the midnight light. Your eyes flicker to his full and pouty lips, the shade of rich wine, and then to his lean biceps strained against his white dress shirt as he straightens his arms to stretch out. "Definitely gonna be my wife."

Your face feels like fire at his muttered words, and you whine in response. "Stop teasing."

"You stop teasing," Chuuya mutters. "Makin' me hard."

Your skin gets impossibly hotter. "You're crazy."

He scoffs and turns his head to look at you. The car is flying down the road, and you pretend to ignore the red aura of his ability around the vehicle. You meet his gaze, turning your whole body toward him.

"And whose fault's that?"

You shrug. "Dazai."

Chuuya chokes on a surprised laugh, and you smile when he turns his attention back to the road, disgust making his lip curl.

"Don't speak about him when I just told you I'm hard."

Your eyes flicker to the strained fabric of his black slacks.

"I'm not giving you head when you're going 200mph."

Chuuya rolls his eyes and uses his right hand to fix his crotch. You cover your laugh with your hand and turn to look out the window.

“Home?” Chuuya asks, his voice laced with desperation. The car should be going slower since you entered residential streets, but due to his predicament, you guess he doesn't care.

"Yep."

“Okay," He swallows, running a red light. "We're sleeping in my bed tonight."

You laugh and take his hand when it returns to your lower thigh. “I want the left side.” 

The car finally lurches to a stop at a red traffic light, and Chuuya gives you an incredulous look. “No fucking way, that’s my side. You know that.”

If you hadn't shifted the tone of the conversation, you doubt you'd be sitting at this light. You shrug and place his hand on the gear stick. “Guess I'm sleeping in my bed, then."

You see him roll his eyes in your peripheral as you stare at the traffic light impatiently. Chuuya sighs dramatically, and when you glance over, you see him torn between pouting and glaring. But you remain impartial, nodding forward once when the light turns green. 

“You’re so…” Chuuya trails off, shaking his head and putting his foot down. A ghost of a smile plays on his lips.

“Careful,” You warn playfully, and he shoots you a dark look as the silence thickens with tension. 

“You’re so pretty it hurts, darling,” He clutches his chest. "Especially with my hat on."

You laugh, tipping the brim. "It definitely looks better on you. I don't think it suits me."

Chuuya's expression morphs into a scowl. "Shut the fuck up, or I'll make you."

"Chuuya!" You giggle, reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

"Don't piss me off with that shit talk, alright?"

You purse your lips to suppress a smile. As he puts the car in park, his grey eyes find yours in the dark. His hat sits tilted on your head, and Chuuya doesn't believe he's ever seen anything as beautiful in his life. The feeling makes his chest hurt.

"Alright?" He repeats, but his voice is void of the previous sharp tone.

You lean forward and press your mouth against his. Chuuya's hand slides to your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You pull back and watch through lidded eyes as he chases your lips. After one last peck, Chuuya kisses both of your cheeks and falls back in his seat.

"Good girl."

[cybercl0ne]

6-1 // army x f!reader

Summary: you get trapped in an elevator with 6 hot masked men, what could go wrong?

Tw: gangbang, double penetration, pure porn, 18+, vaginal penetration, anal penetration, no jimmy, creampies (possible impreg?), squirting, degradation, Cum. Everywhere. Multiple orgasm.

You were running late. Like really late and you knew rushing up 10 flights of stairs was not happening. You decided to call for the elevator instead, guessing that your boss would cut you some slack depending on your excuse.

As you elevator ringed, the rusty, grinding wires weary hilt in front of you, opening the door to welcome you only to see 6 masked men standing, staring blankly at you, waiting for you to get on. You feel flushed at how weirdly attractive these men looked, their gear making them look buffed and their faces covered by black mask, only keeping their majestic eyes available.

They hold the elevator for you, steeping on you squirm in a small circle around them, they give you space like you were foreign to them. “Thanks guys.” You nervously laugh, going immediately silent as you feel their eyes soften, a glint of unknown lust festering as well. “No problem little lady.” One says seductively, eyeing you, keeping contact as you stand in awe at how his voice rumbled through you. You nod, and hold your head down, trying to make the high tension settle down. All hell breaks loose when the elevator suddenly stops and you drop your smartphone, bending down to reach it, unintentionally giving a show to the men around you. Your skirt hiking up just barely before your ass, showing a corner of your colorful panties. One of them whistle another fall into line with sounds of amusement, one in front of you, you caught readjusting his clear hard on.

“My god, what a nice view..~” one calls out, the others joining in a laugh. Your body felt warm, your lower body growing in heat as these hot men surround you, ready to pounce.

“we’re you just waiting for us to jump on you little lamb?” Another questions. One wraps their hand around your waist, feeling your hips up and down, staring into your eyes for approval. As soon as you give your small nod and whimper the men ravenge you.

“You dirty little slut, getting on an elevator, waiting for someone like us to come along to destroy your little body.” They spit out, gripping your ass, one groping at your tits, pooling them out of your bra. You squeal as you feel your cunt getting more needy, your panties getting sticky with your slick. One of them proceed you rip your professional tights, another man going in for a kiss, staring their deep brown eyes into yours, kneeding your clothed clit as the others worked to get the rest of your articles of clothing out of the way, whipping their own cocks out. “grab my cock you little bitch!” A blue eyes one demands, his heavy British accent making you moan. “Look at her. She’s enjoying getting manhandled! Get my cock in her mouth, see if she’s smiling then?” He slaps your face, slapping his cock on your face. You poke your tongue out, focused on the pre that sticks to your cheek as he slaps it deeper onto your skin, groaning, rubbing it up and down your lips, teasing you.

“I’m gonna taste this sweet cunt, I just know it’s wet and ready for me~” a slim yet buff man replied, stroking his own cock as he rips your panties straight off, his gloved finger glazing your tight hole, his warm and slimy tongue taking its place. “Put your fucking hand on my cock, bitch!” One yells in another heavy accent, his cock way to big to fit in your hand, you attempt to grasp onto his cock, sliding your hand back and forth, your eyes rolling back as you choke down another man’s cock, his hairs prickling your nose as he stuffs himself deep. You clench around nothing as your pussy gets demolished. Feeling yourself on the edge of squirting, you scream out your moan through getting your throat pounded while fisting 2 other men’s cocks.

“Oh the little girls getting close!” The man attending to your cunt stops, and announces. Erupting a slap and a laugh from everyone. Slaps to your ass, face and pussy. You squirm as your climax was so close, them teasing you by slapping around your poor aching pussy. “Awe, baby girl wants to cum? Do you wanna cum baby?” One man says, pampering your face with kisses, his stubble tickling your face. Unable to speak with your cock stuffed mouth you nod.

“Use your fucking words baby.. what do you want? Tell daddy so he can give it to you…” he whines, using his now ungloved fingers to rub up and down your slit, his thumb grazing your clit.

The man pops his cock out of your mouth, shifting to your tits, as 3 other men use your hands and thighs. “p-please.. p-please let me cum!” You yelp, begging with teary half lidded eyes. As you beg you stick out your tongue for a man that jerks his cock over your face, his eyes squinting, telling you he’s close. He moans and finally shoots his hot cum out all over your face, it splurting on your open tongue and one of your eyes. The rest of the men join in, cumming on different parts of your body. One man slapping his cock on your ass, cumming alongside it. Another letting it out on your hands. The man that was in charge of your pussy starts up, tonging you until you feel that white peak, clenching around his slithering tongue, his ball-shaped piercing hitting your clit just right. “C-cumming!” You yell, shaking intensely as you squirt all over the bottom man’s face. The biggest man, lifts you up between your orgasm, making your squirt spray everywhere, drenching the boys as the big man lines himself up with your small, tight pussy, his cock twitching as it meshes in your juices, tapping lightly on your cunt.

“That’s a good girl, letting it rain like a fountain baby!” The man says, kissing your agape mouth. You feel like you’ve been fucked dumb even though you know that these men have just started their satisfaction. You looked down, seeing the big man’s cock, you immediately started to realize that he was the biggest for a reason. His cock twitched at the attention. The men laughed.

“To big for you princess?”

“Gotta make sure to stuff you nice and good honey…”

“I can’t wait to get a taste of that.” all around the men were commenting. Some with sweet replies, others with want and need, they all wanted a piece of you, rubbing their cocks in unison as the big man inches you down on his fat dick.

“N-no! I-it won’t fit!~” you screech, feeling your cunt being slip apart by the big man. “So…damn…tight…” the big man whispers in your ear, moaning heavily. “gonna stuff you so full of my seed that your stomach will grow.” He chuckles deeply, while bottoming out, stuffing you all the way down that you can’t even make a noise at first, only broken moans as your tits bounced from the recoil.

“She’s loving it! Look at her face, she can’t even process how fucked dumb she’s getting!” One points out, stroking his cock harder. “Careful, we don’t want her to break too easily~” another one joins in, groaning at the show he was getting. You felt your insides being rearranged, putting your hand to your stomach, you feel the bulge that dives in and out ever time the man harshly pumps his cock in and out of you. You heave and huff through it, bending your head back to kiss his groaning lips. As you make out with the man with his mask halfway up you feel his rhythm only growing more sloppy and harder, your tits flopping around uncontrollably as he pounds you.

“don’t take all the fun, let me enjoy that sweet cunt!” One interjects, closing into your face, smirking. The big man that was currently demolishing your insides laughs and suddenly stops, popping his cock out of your pussy. You whimper at the sudden empty feeling of his warm twitching cock not blanketing your cunt.

“Don’t worry sweet girl, you’ll be double stuffed in a minute.” You squirm at the tone and way he said it, looking in your eyes, kissing your lips deeply as he adjust himself to your pussy, the big man aiming at your ass, still holding you up.

“Sure you can take it little lamb?” A background man adds, coming up to you, using your bent thighs to stroke his cock. Another one tags along to your other thigh, some staying back, enjoying their front row seats to the show.

Both of the men that stood at your holes entered in at the same time causing you to yell out, tightening and clenching as he tore through your ass while the other guy played through your cunt, fighting his way to your cirvix.

“S-so tight! God damn, you’re gonna break my cock off princess!” He adds, pumping his long hard dick inside you, the big guy rutting deeper inside you. You felt your holes getting violated, being stretched and feeling the searing pain and pressure from them, your stomach showing a faint bulge once again. Juices started to pour out of you, your moans filling the air as they grunted, pounding your holes at an unholy pace.

“p-please n-no… I-I’m gonna break! I-I can’t take it.. w-wanna cum!” You huffed out, feeling yourself getting lost. The rest of the men grunted and moaned, some mixed laughs as they felt themselves getting close to. “don’t worry baby I-I’m close to!” The man pounding your asshole shouts, nibbling on your neck as the one destroying your weeping, leaking pussy grunts in approval, heading toward the same climax. As you feel yourself being overstimulated, drawing to close to cumming they both cum at the same time, both your ass and cunt getting pumped full of hot milky cum. You felt yourself tipping over the edge but as soon as he popped out of you another man entered you, finishing inside you as well.

“We all gotta take turns cumming in that pretty cunt~” one man says, exiting your warm, clenching pussy as another enters in, thumping inside you, unloading his hot seed. You felt your stomach about to burst as you also felt your cunt driving over the edge, your legs going limp as your eyes rolled back.

as the last man came inside you, you reached your climax, squirting a ton, pushing some of the fresh hot cum out with it. The men kissed all over your fucked out body, whispering sweet words into your ear, breast, thighs, and neck. You giggled, mind fucked and still squirting, coming down from the long high as the elevator finally opened. “That was fun, I hope we can do it again sometime~” the big man said, climbing out of the elevator with the rest of his friends who already readjusted themselves while you laid, displayed and completely fucked out on the elevator floor.

[sobbingscripter]

Tags: [mlw][crack][fluff][reader is an asshole][this is their karma for some shit they did in the past]

Includes: Damian Wayne; Bruce Wayne; Dick Grayson

A/n: a lil' drabble to broaden my horizons and see if I should stick to smut :3

"Okay, listen here, Sulu, I don't take orders from you. I take orders from your mother. So if she says I need to keep you safe, best believe, I'm doing my job to the best of my ability."

You're off-putting on your best day.

Alfred and Jason love to call you Damian's karma for him being a massive dick, and Bruce likes to call you.... Well... When Damian's not on his best behaviour.

"Listen, Cobra Kai, you better get your shit straight and listen to Batman." You stare at Damian, your eyes narrowing at him with distaste, upper lip curling in disdain before you look up at Bruce, your expression warm and your eyes fucking sparkle like a supernova.

"Huge fan." You reassure Bruce before looking back at Damian, finding those emerald eyes simmering with barely contained rage and he just about has it when you take two fingers, pointing them at your eyes and then, pointing them at his.

And almost as if to drive in your point (which you definitely do not have), you take a hefty bite of the nearest edible thing to you as you stand in the centre of the kitchen.

The nearest thing being an onion. Freshly peeled.

Your teeth sink into the flesh of the vegetable, and your throat burns but you don't waver, simply retreating back to your assigned bedroom and Jason lets out a whistle, muscular arms crossing over his broad chest.

"I expected her to start tearing up at the taste." Jason comments, taking a bite of the orange in his hand, the fruit already peeled and missing a few bites, which suggests that he didn't even cut it.

"I don't think she can cry." Bruce mutters quietly, before letting a shiver run down his spine and he visibly shudders. "She's intense."

Meanwhile, you're in the en suite of your room, coughing your lungs out your ass and trying not to gag as you feed yourself palmfuls of water from the bathroom sink. The water's clean, clear enough to be drinkable and you rinse your mouth. Your lashes are wet with unshed tears as you allow yourself to sink to the cool bathroom tiles, resting your back against the wall and you wipe the water droplets from your chin, letting out panted breaths.

"Holy shit." You mutter quietly.

Talia had trained you personally, wanting you to be her son's bodyguard when he needed it the most. And she deems him 'needing it the most', as now. When he's been living with his father for about 9 years. When he's 6 foot 2. When he's jacked and a fucking ninja who quite literally, is like...

Have you ever seen that movie? Ninja Assassin?

That's Damian.

Moving organs and shit.

It's barely midnight when Damian clomps into your bedroom, arms folded across his chest and he stares at you from beneath dark lashes, eyes glittering like jewels in a cove as he spits out.

"What do I have to do, to make you leave?"

His expression is tight, eyes narrowing and the muscle in his jaw is wound tighter than... Well a wire. That's wound super tight around a thing.

Damian's fingers tap impatiently on his bicep as he waits for you to answer his question, the fabric of his T-shirt stretching tightly around the muscles of his torso, extending past the waistband of his pants. And he runs his tongue across his teeth, stopping at the sharp point of his canine.

"I'm waiting, vermin."

You scoff.

"Calm down, Beverly Hills Ninja." You watch Damian's jaw tick in annoyance at the nickname.

Somehow, they always seem to get worse. Even when they're... Awful.

"I'm not gonna be here for any longer than you need me to be."

Your voice is as grating to his ears as nails to a chalkboard, but that stupid cadence and the lilt of your tone have his mind wracking for ways to put your stupid mouth to better use.

"I don't need you to be here." Damian grumbles.

"Listen, Kung Fu Hustle," you roll your eyes, readying yourself to go to bed as the back of your head makes contact with the puffed up pillow, the satin pillowcase making you let out a sigh of relief, "I'll tell you what you need."

Bruce would actually rather be in that alley again than work another case with your dumb ass.

Commissioner Gordon's protege, the only officer that somehow seems like a combination of Spencer Reid and Jake Peralta. But more Jake, than anything.

"Come on, Sherlock Homo." You snap your fingers in front of Bruce's cowl-covered face, but you watch as his eyes narrow while he stares down at you. But he doesn't speak, simply glancing back towards the clues laid across the surface of the desk in front of you two.

In the archives of the GCPD building, Bruce and you remain working silently. His wards having taken over his patrol, giving him the time for a physical breather but God, his jaw finds itself clenched tighter than Arthur's fist.

The air smells like musty books and ink, a hint of pine cleaner and you settle into your seat, lifting the clue to your eyes, scanning over the parchment for any kind of spot that could mean something.

"I think we should refer to previous riddles." Bruce hums softly, biceps bulging beneath the Kevlar of his suit, his cape fluttering in the breeze that creeps through rusted vents.

"Or we can use Chat GPT?"

Bruce watches, his expression falling to one of incredulity as he watches you grab your phone from your bag, the device just so...

He's distressed, on your behalf.

15%. A few cracks in your screen guard and that bright notification that says your storage is far too full for your phone to be functioning optimally.

And Bruce watches as you type the riddle into the AI app, and he watches as those dots appear, signalling a response being formulated. And Bruce nearly groans aloud when he sees an ad light up your screen.

And he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration when he watches you screenshot the name of the stupid widget app, saving it for later when you can download it.

"Should we use my phone?"

Bruce's question is unexpected and you crease your brows, shaking your head.

"Nah, I just need to connect to the wifi."

And Bruce wipes his hands over his face, a low groan rumbling in his broad chest before he drops into the seat beside you, and he waits for you.

Each minute seems like a lifetime, and he hears that little beep.

"Did you get an answer?" Bruce questions, his voice tinged with barely contained annoyance, frustration. Almost everything that points to him yanking out his luxurious, inky hair.

"It says I used up my free messages." You purse your lips. "I'm gonna make a new email really quickly."

Half an hour passes before you get an answer. Which is, that there is no answer.

"This...—" Bruce let's out a shaky breath. "Have you ever been told that you're disorganised?"

And you scoff, raising a hand in Bruce's direction to dismiss him.

"Listen, Karate Kid, who went to police academy?" You question Bruce. "Not me, but still. I've still got the badge, American Ninja."

"You're not a legal officer?!"

"License and registration, Mr Wing."

Dick can't believe this.

He's getting a speeding ticket for chasing a fucking criminal on his bike.

"They have my secret identity on them, so I can't give it to you." Dick answers, pulling his bike onto the curb and cutting the engine, and he rests his forearms on the space between the handlebars. Because he just knows this is gonna take a while.

"So you're impersonating right now?"

Dick rolls his eyes behind his mask, and his lips part to protest.

"Listen, officer, I'm in a bit of a hurry and it'd be really nice if you could just... Not do this right now."

Dick's trying to be nice, really. Trying to respect the law and act like a model citizen, like the kind of citizen he'd be happy to protect and serve.

"Well, too bad Britney Allen, justice... Isn't nice. Justice is messy, hard and fast. Like a creampie." And you pull the notebook out of your back pocket, the action of tilting your body just a bit draws Dick's attention to your body.

Perfect hips, only accentuated by those stupid cuffed, cargo pants and that bulky holster belt.

Dick clears his throat.

He seriously cannot be finding you sexy right now.

"So, Twinkle toes, you wanna tell me why you're going 130 in a 80 zone?" You hum, eyes lowered to the notebook in your hands, continuing to scrawl his parking ticket before you glance towards the number plate of the sportbike.

Or more accurately, the lack thereof.

"Oh, Pom Poms," you muse, laughter in your voice as you continue to scrawl, "riding without a number plate? That's an 80 dollar fine."

Rummaging through a hidden compartment, long gloved fingers wrap around a hundred dollar bill before handing it to you. And you pocket it.

"Now what about the fine?"

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon "Ghost" Riley, Reader

Summary: All the buildup, all the teasing, finally leads to this: Simon is back and ready to act on all those filthy things you two had been teasing each other with. Will you make it home before you both explode? Or will the car have to do to break the tension?

Word Count: 5.1 k

Warnings:

Part 2:

Unsteady hands gripped hard into the steering wheel, knuckles white as you tightly held on while headed straight to the military base. Your heart pounding furiously inside your chest, breath quick and short the closer you got, it was nearly impossible to keep your eyes focused on the road. Christ were you gnawing at the bit to get there and once again see that beast of a man, the one keeping you begging for release for the past three months.

Those breathtaking bits of personalized porn you two had sent each other had done nothing other than made that inconvenient ache into a raging monster that could not be quenched. Hours spent furiously working yourselves, silently begging for a little ease in the constant throbbing had gotten nowhere except to drain the battery life on your phones from the constant re-watching of videos.

…though that last photo he sent you of his abdomen covered in his milky white cum after having watched your little romp into amateur pornography had left you feeling on top of the world for a couple days.

And just as you were on that last leg of desperation, finally the light at the end of the tunnel that led up to you driving where you were today. It had been exactly one week from when you got the text you had been waiting on from Simon:

“I’m coming home, baby. Fucking finally; Christ I thought I was going to rub myself raw. Best not wear anything you want to remain intact, you hear me? Cause the minute I get my paws on you, that's it.”

Thank fuck, the suffering was almost over.

That entire week seemed to drag on endlessly, each day crawling through at a snails pace, but here you were now only a few more minutes away from your destination. Even as you checked in at the entrance to the base, antsy and squirming in the seat of your car, you couldn’t believe that you had actually made it.

You took Simon’s message to heart when you got ready that morning, choosing a simple, flowy dress that he could literally shred off of you and you wouldn’t give a shit. It was just long enough that it could easily conceal the fact that you had done away with the panties today, opting for ease of access over anything else, but low cut enough in the front that he could get a nice eyeful of your full chest; you had no idea what would happen the moment you saw each other again and you weren’t taking any chances.

This reunion was bound to be explosive after all the visual edging you two had been doing lately and having to waste even a second more of time before your bodies could be joined felt like a crime.

You walked through the base, heartbeat rapidly increasing with each step as you got closer to where you knew you'd find that hulking Lieutenant hanging around.

And then you turned a corner and there he was like a specter brought back to life, standing idly beside the outside wall smoking as he watched the privates of his troop find their families and suddenly the wind was knocked from you.

“Simon,” you called out to him and he turned to face you.

That instant connection of your eyes felt like a shock from a live wire; Simon could feel the electricity run through his veins and tingle its way up his spine until the first prickles of sweat dotted across his body as his cigarette slipped from his fingers. It felt like he couldn’t breathe and the closer you got the worse it became; you knew what you were doing wearing that pretty little dress.

Fuck did he want to take a bite of those thick thighs he could see just under the hem that popped out every time you took a step and if his hands didn’t get their fill of your breast spilling out of his grip soon, he might just keel over and die. You were more than tempting, you were a feast sent to make him completely lose his goddamn mind.

His entire body was sent into shock as that ache that he had tried to keep from ripping him apart all day as he waited for your arrival overtook him until his balls pulsed and he had to adjust himself or get caught sporting a stiffy that would instantly tent the crotch of his pants and make it even more painfully obvious to any curious eyes just how gone he fucking was.

Coming to a stop you stood before him, your stomach doing back flips as you struggled to form words that weren’t just pleas for him to just rip the waistband of his pants down and take you right then.

“Hey you,” you said through unsteady breaths, trying to keep calm. “Long time no see, huh?”

Simon nodded. “Too fuckin’ long sweetheart. Ya look...” he had to clear his throat, “incredible.” He had to keep it short, there were still too many people about and even his words would cause him to lose composure.

“Well, it is a special occasion after all,” you chuckled. ���Got to remind you what you leave behind every time you go.”

The need to take your hand and give it squeeze, that customary greeting that you both did when in public, made him hesitate. If he touched you right now, any bare part that met skin with skin, he may not be able to stop, not once those weathered and brutish fingers got their fill of all that sweet softness. There as still a little time left that he had to be there and the agony was already eating away at him.

“Believe me, I fuckin’ know,” he said as he shot you a look; I’ve been in hell waitin’ to get back to it, it whispered to you.

Taking a few calming breaths, he risked lacing his broad fingers in between the empty spaces in your own. Simon could feel the rapid thump, thump, thump, of your pulse against his palm; good, you were just as excited for this reunion as he was.

Somehow that made it a bit easier, knowing that the feeling was mutual.

“Can we go?” you asked eagerly, hopeful that you were closer to the end of your joint suffering sooner rather than later.

Simon stroked the back of your hand with his thumb. “Gotta be here just a bit longer,” he muttered dejectedly under his breath. “God, I want ya so bad I can’t see straight.”

You squeezed his hand back. “It’ll go fast,” you assured. “And…I mean… no one’s looking this way if you wanted to touch me a little more. Maybe you’ll find something you’ll like.”

It was dangerous, but he took a chance with even more touch as he released your hand and loosely wrapped his arm around your waist, bring you in to him until your hips were touching. You were warm against him, warmer than the day would suggest, and the curve of your hip that he ran his fingers over delicately to retrace the lines he had dreamed about felt even better than he remembered.

Silently you peaked over at his face, watching as his head faced firmly forward to watch for any prying eyes, but it was clear he hadn’t noticed it yet. Not wanting to spoil the surprise, you kept quiet; he’d figure it out eventually. Those exploring fingers were beginning to stray more towards the back of you to the small dip at the base of your spine.

…and then lower still…

That’s when you felt it; he risked a lingering stroke over the contour of your ass when he noticed it. Where was that distinct seam of your panty line? He had grabbed your backside so many times over the course of your relationship that he knew the feeling of what should have been there. Quickly he ran his hand over the area again and still the same, there was nothing. Christ, you’d really prepared for today, hadn’t you?

Good fuckin’ girl.

His chest began to grow tight with his quickened breathing… along with that engorged appendage down below. He was in fucking trouble now; would he even be able to make it to the car at this point? The moan that desperately tried to escape through his throat he swallowed down, but who knows how long it would stay.

He was in the thick of it now.

Simon leaned down to rest his face against the side of your head, his warm breath still able to be felt against your ear even through the mask. “Fuckin’ hell sweetheart, no panties?” he whispered intrigued. “Christ, how the fuck am I supposed to hang on now?”

You smirked, trying to pick even though you were falling apart at the seams, a wetness gathering between your thighs as you pressed them together. “You complaining? Cause I can head back home and put some on real quick if you want.”

A harsh squeeze along the underside of your ass cheek made you gasp before he removed his hand and gave you your answer. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he warned, a playfully lilt to his tone. “That sweet little pussy is about to be filled and I don’t wanna waste a goddamn second havin’ to rip those fuckin’ things off ya.”

Dear God he was about to fuckin’ explode, say screw it and pin you up against the nearest wall right in front of the entire goddamn squad to plow into your tight, wet cunt with months worth of unrequited need that had built up to this monster of desire churning away inside of him. His teeth bit at the skin of his lower lip, his fists clenching and unclenching as he failed to calm himself while he again checked the time.

The moment that those amber eyes watched the second hand on his watch hit and the minutes change to the millisecond he could be released, his oversized mitt wrapped around your wrist, securing it in his harsh grasp, and quickly he began making his way to your car with you being dragged alongside.

“Where the hell are ya parked?” he questioned in a huff, that gruff voice nothing more than a growl, and you pointed towards the back of the lot in the corner.

You could barely keep up with his intense pace, nearly tripping over your own feet several times to match his long strides. It didn’t help that your heart was pounding furiously, nearly beating out of your chest the closer you got to being in a tight, secluded spot with him; could you even make it back to his apartment?

All signs were pointing to not a fucking chance.

Simon only released you so that you could both get inside, separating at the tail of the vehicle with you headed towards the driver side and him the other. The slam from the car door rung through the interior of the vehicle and before you could even insert the key into the ignition, Simon had moved in silent as a specter to place his large palm against the side of your cheek. The endless ache he had endured over the past months apart had been unbearable as you both edged each other to the brink of insanity and now that he was so close to you again it felt like he was in a dream.

The tension that suddenly filled the car was overwhelmingly electric as Simon closed what little distance there still sat between you both, his hand moving to the back of your head. Those bulky, calloused fingers that had missed having any part of you against them laced themselves through your hair with harsh abandon, pulling your face closer.

He held your head steady and pointedly at his face so that you had to stare into his intense, unwavering gaze; it made your skin tingle with anticipation of what was on the horizon and barreling down fast. Those sparkling brown eyes drew you in to hold your own captive as he drug his thick thumb across the length of your bottom lip as if to test that all this was actually real. His entire hand palmed the back of your head which left you completely at his mercy, not that you were complaining.

After all, you needed him just as badly.

Without warning he wrenched the bottom hem of his balaclava up over the top of his head and off his face before his mouth crashed violently against your own, hungry and greedy to steal kiss after fiery kiss from those soft, supple lips he had been eyeing with a burning desire to ruin since the minute he saw you again. Desperately his tongue parted your lips as he plunged it inside your mouth to reclaim it.

God it felt euphoric to finally be given the very thing you had been aching for for months, feeling as if your body had pined for his for an eternity, as it was finally released from it’s torture. And by the way his tongue was nearly shoved down the back of your throat you knew Simon felt that same kind of relief and it only spurred him on further.

“Fuck,” he groaned against your parted lips, nothing but hot, sticky breath being shared. “Ugh…fuck, baby, I’ve missed you so goddamn much I thought I was gonna fuckin’ die before I could feel ya again.”

Crawling over the small console in the center between the car seats, Simon shoved his body weight into you, making your smaller frame slam against the driver-side door. The raised panelling along the inside dug roughly into the muscles of your back as the backside of your head was shoved harshly into the glass of the window. There was no pause in his assault of your mouth until your lips began to burn from the constant contact and yet even the pain still felt like heaven.

He tasted so strongly of tobacco from the chain of cigarettes he must have smoked to calm his nerves until you arrived, but even through the distinct flavor you still drank every last drop of him down like you would cease to function without him.

Those thick digits of his free hand eagerly pawed at your supple thighs until he was able to divide them so that his hand could slip in between. There was a damp heat gathered near your unclothed sex and it only made him more wild to feel it. His palm cupped around your entire mound and you whimpered directly into his mouth.

“Fuck,” he hissed one of the only words he could recall in that moment as the damp heat filled his palm. “All for me?”

Words, what the hell were they again? You couldn’t remember how speech worked as you were far too busy try to simply breathe through the conquering of your body by him. All you could do was mewl like a kitten as he massaged the petals of your cunt before taking his middle finger and slipping it between them. Your back arched in a jolt as he ran one finger along the length of your cunt, mouth falling agape as Simon gathered as much of your juices on his finger as he could.

Even this small amount of contact already had you dripping and coming apart at the seams; it had been so long since you had felt that familiar touch and pressure against your clit, the one that only he could provide.

Simon couldn’t help himself once he got his first real feel again of how soft and slick you were, goddamn it had been too long that he’d only been able to play with himself, and greedily he drew upon your clit in concise circles with the pad of his rough finger. There was a second where he tried to remain calm, to take his time drawing out your pleasure as he would normally do, but as your back arched and your breathy music filled the silence of the car, he could not hold off from unleashing weeks of pent up need onto you.

Removing his lips from your own, he moved down to the soft skin of your neck with teeth ready to leave the flesh marked with his seal. It burned him alive with desire at the thought that he would be able to see your pretty skin marred by him, that everyone who came in to contact with you in the coming days after today would see it too.

You could not stop the way your body writhed and squirmed as his finger collected a friend to join it and spread your entrance open so they could both slide inside. The heightened tension of the moment with the man you had yearned for only made you more sensitive and the way his fingers filled your tight, aching hole after it had been left empty for too long thrilled you. As natural as breathing, your hips ground down on his fingers, using them as your own living dildo.

God, he wanted nothing more than for you to ride his cock as well as you rode his fingers just now and send him straight to hell. Shit, he couldn’t catch his breath, his need was just too much. “That’s it. Use me; make my fingers yours.”

Both of your hands moved to behind your head and onto the window; you needed more leverage to ground onto him harder, as hard as you could. Nothing compared to him, not your own fingers, not a toy; you could not stop yourself. You could feel the condensation already gathering on the glass as you moved and you had to wipe it away so that you could get better purchase on the surface so you wouldn’t slide.

There was nothing that was going to ruin this.

“Oh god, baby,” you squeaked out as that overwhelming deep warmth of your release gathered in your abdomen.

The corners of his mouth upturned against your neck at the sound of you falling apart because of him. Images conquered in his mind about your moans and cries reaching outside the car so that anyone who walked by would hear them before they caught a glimpse of the show. Why wouldn’t he want to show you off like this? You looked so fucking beautiful falling apart to his ferocity.

Just the way your muscles strained and your cries became more pathetic, Simon knew you were close. “Are ya gonna come for me already, pretty girl?” his gruff voice purred against your collar bone. “Come on then, give it to me. Clench down on my fingers. Let me feel it.”

Pumping his fingers in and out of you, keeping the pace as steady as he could, he felt those velvety walls flutter around his digits as he rocked his upper body with you to simulate the movements he’d soon be doing when he was really inside you. The air was so thick with moisture it almost felt hard to breathe right, the windows filmed with the stuff as with a few more strokes at your clit you came hard and fast, shaking as he continued to work you until ever single ounce of your orgasm had been spent.

Simon was gone then, replaced by a feral beast fueled by his ability to make you come… and wanting to do it again, but this time with his cock.

He pulled those thick fingers out of you, glistening with the wetness of your cum and brought them to his lips. You watched wide eyed as he stuck them in his mouth and licked them good and clean; goddamn you tasted just as delicious as he remembered. Could you blame the man? You had kept him starving since your video popped up on his phone and he had to get a bit of it all.

“I need more of ya,” he groaned in whispers as he leaned back into you, desperate hands pawing at your breast still sadly inside your dress as he kissed you again, now with the taste of you on his breath.

“We need to move, someone’s bound to come see what all the noise is about,” you said, able to think a little more clearly now that you had come once, but Simon was still gone and there was only one thing that would bring him back.

“Don’t care, can’t wait. Get in the back. Now.”

The primal growl in his gruff voice was enough to make you comply without another word; once was not enough anyway, not after how you had suffered. You needed to be filled with more than his fingers. With a nod you immediately began climbing over the cushions towards the backseat of the car as he got out and moved into the back with you. You leaned back into the front long enough to shove the seats forward all the way to give you more space.

Simon needed room to work.

Scooting over, he planted himself directly in the middle of the back seat and pulled you over top of his lap to straddle him, shins digging into the edge of the cushion. Shit, he as so hard you couldn’t properly sit over top of him without leaving a wet spot right where his cock tented the fabric.

Clothes could be washed, as if he would care at all if anything got on him right now. Pushing your hips down, he made you grind your overstimulated clit hard on that throbbing shaft and you mewled into his face. A devilish grin spread from ear to ear as he rocked your hips to dry hump him.

“Someone ‘ere begged to be bred and that’s what she’s gonna fuckin’ get,” he hissed, sucking in the air harshly between his teeth at the feeling of you on top of him. “Can’t take it back now, luv. I have been fuckin’ dreamin’ of doin’ this, ever since you sent me that goddamn video and I ‘eard you say those sweet fuckin’ words. Been fuckin’ gnawin’ at the bit to stuff you full.”

Taking both of his hands, he pulled at the low neckline of your dress until your breasts came spilling out of the top. Angling his face in, he placed his nose right between the two to suffocate himself within them. There was a hint of your perfume still lingering there, that scent he had bought you for your birthday last year, the one that occasionally lingered on his clothes and had done for the first couple weeks of his mission.

The flesh was so enticing that he sucked in the supple top of one breast before he bit down, not enough to break the skin, but enough that it would definitely leave a nice red outline of his teeth; more signaturea that you could both admire.

“Simon,” you moaned his name.

Your own hands roamed up under his shirt, pushing the fabric up until you reached his chest and you could run your hands over the sparse bit of hair you adored; it would be so nice to get to nuzzle against it again. As your fingers ran between his pectorals you could feel the moment his breath hitched.

“Please, Simon,” you begged. “I need it.”

Those breasts he would get back to later, your words brought him back and his need to fuck you senseless slammed into him full force.

Rushed, he laid you back over the console between the seats as he sat up and forward, undoing his belt before ripping his pants down enough that he could pull his cock out of his boxers. The angle was slightly awkward, but as he aligned the leaking head of his phallus with your entrance and gave that first thrust to fully enter you, everything else fell away.

“Oh fuck…fuck… oh fuck,” that deep agonized whimper echoed through the car as Simon’s hands bore down his grip on the top of the seat cushions. “Goddammit, luv…s-shit…ah…”

Nothing, absolutely nothing in this fucking world could ever compare to the way your body felt wrapped around his cock: how silky and warm and tight it was. There was no way with his limited brain function could he accurately describe how mind-numblingly amazing it was to be inside you again. Those restless nights where he just couldn’t seem to stay satisfied, the pictures and video that made it worse, the dreams that woke him to stained boxers, it was all undone in that moment as your soft walls held him snugly.

Your head flew back over the lip of the console as he filled you completely to the hilt, stretching you out to your limit. It was almost too much after so much time apart, but goddamn was it exactly as you had wanted. You swallowed the saliva gathering in your mouth, wanting to say the words you had first brought to life in your video, but in person this time.

“Breed me, please Simon. I need you to fucking breed me.”

Never had a more beautiful sentence ever been spoken to him in all his years than to hear your desperate and depraved voice telling him to claim you in the most ultimate way; it was even more beautiful in person than it was that first time he heard it. His fingernails nearly tore holes in the seat as gripped with all this strength to stop himself from coming too fast from all the excitement.

The car began to shake forward and back as Simon snapped his hips into you with a feverish intensity. Even within the first few minutes he was already pussy drunk, slamming into you with a feral roughness that left his rhythm scattered for a bit as his brain only had one objective now: to come.

Your legs were absolutely burning and shaking from the intensity as you had to spread them wide so that he could fit in between, but it didn’t matter; you would have done anything to have him reclaim your cunt as his own again.

The scent of sex was heavy in the air of that enclosed space, the wet slapping sounds of two bodies connecting in that most erotic way keeping the beat.

Yet there was still one more thing he wanted, one more thing that he had been daydreaming about all by his lonesome. Even in this cramped space, he was determined to make it happen- for both of you. His hands were on your legs and before you knew what was happening, he had pulled out of you so that he could situate your calves up on his broad shoulders.

As he thrust back in, the new position helped him reach even deeper until he completely bottomed out. Goddamn it was like you could feel him in your stomach, so full with him that you were completely one being.

“F-fuck…” you stammered out the cry, choking on your words as you writhed uncontrollably. It was almost too much.

“There ya go baby,” he groaned as he started rocking his hips again, unable to contain himself at this consuming euphoria. “Gotta make good on my fuckin’ promise.”

He took you even rougher now, gripping into your hips hard enough to leave purple fingerprints where his hands rested as he pounded into you furiously, your body contorted and at his mercy. The windows of the car were completely fogged over now, the condensation not letting any clear visuals in or out as the axel squeaked with the force of Simon’s thrusts. The console you were still laid on scraped across your back to make it burn as your body was rocked, but the angle was so perfect that the stimulation made your brain blank to anything that wasn’t your second release creeping up on you quick.

There were no more words that could be said as you both devolved into beings hell bent on pleasure alone, just the depraved sounds of grunting and moans filling up the interior to capacity; that growing warmth in your belly nearly reaching its peak

Goddammit, he was closer than he thought due to all the pent up desire he'd been unable to sait for weeks, but he had to be sure you were almost there again too. "Are ya close?" he asked as more of a plea than a question, hips snapping desperately with a shudder as he was losing the battle to his orgasm.

"Yes," you groaned back. "Don't stop, please."

He closed his eyes tight, working to stay from blowing until he felt your thighs twitch and clamp down around him, keeping him locked in. A few more sloppy thrusts slipping through the cum covering your cunt, a few more bumps against your swollen clit, and that was it. The warmth shot through your limbs, coursing like electricity as you came once more.

"Yes, yes, yes!" you cried out and finally he let go and fuck did he come with a roar that stung your ears.

Simon's body convulsed, the muscles in his abdomen tensing and straining as he released weeks and weeks of need. You took it all riding out your orgasms in tandem until you both lay still a moment, simply breathing after such an explosive ending.

He moved back into the seat exhausted, pulling your body along with him as you stayed connected. Lightly he pushed up your dress to press his raw lips to your stomach to kiss down the lower half of your body. Each embrace was another silent praise he gave while he took deep breaths through the high of his ecstasy until his rapidly pounding slowed and he could final re-wet his dry mouth to speak.

“Fuck, I think we both needed that one,” he said against your skin, his warm breath wafting over the fine spread of moisture along your torso, making you tingle as he kept his cock buried inside. “Ya did so good for me sweetheart.”

You reached a hand out to him and he helped you to sit up and into his lap. Wrapping your arm around his neck you pulled him into a deep kiss, letting your mouths linger together with eyes closed for a few moments as you both finished coming down.

“I’m glad your back,” you whispered as your lips parted.

He cupped your cheek with his palm, staring back into your eyes as he smiled. “I’m glad to be back too,” he returned. "And I'm gonna make sure that I make up for all that lost time."

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