#I think my throat was not keen on solids at the time

[runic-raptor]

This was going to be a reply, and then I went on a itsy bitsy rant.

I misread the question. Subtract one vote for pears and add it to "other" . I don't think I have a hatred fruit, but out of all these and all the fruits I can think of off the top of my head, I think I dislike dragonfruit the most.

It's okay, just lacks the sweetness or flavor that would make me like it. I also don't like the starfruit or whatever? The long yellow one with all the weird seeds inside. Only had it once as a kid. Remember not liking it.

And mind you, I am very mildly allergic to both bananas and grapes, but I'll still happily eat them and enjoy them tho.

I have to eat bananas carefully as I'm only allergic to the peel. Same with grapes, but uh... it's a little harder to avoid the grape peel

I DESPISE anything cherry-flavored tho. I don't know what it tastes like, but it's not fucking cherries. Bad. Hate. Seethe.

I will avoid anything cherry flavored with a fervor. I'll avoid every red fucking piece of candy if there's a chance it might be cherry flavored. Horrible. Disgusting.

It's not even the whole it reminds me of medicine thing. A lot of my medicines as a kid were grape flavored (possibly because of my hatred for cherry now that I think of it.) And I don't mind grape flavor at all. It's far from my favorite but I'll still eat it if it winds up in my hands.

[fckmebarnes]

hiya love, I just found your lovely blog and I have a lil request for ya. if you aren't comfortable with the kinks, just delete the request ☺️

so like I was imagining a big beefy bucky with a big cock who really wants to get you pregnant. he's overwhelmed by how good you feel and he talks a lot about how he can't wait to see you full of him and when he finally comes, there's like a LOT of cum and it takes a while for it to stop and you're like super full of super soldier cum and pretty much instantly pregnant ?!?! ok bye

smut — eighteen plus!

heavy breeding kink, daddy kink, beefy bucky with a big fucking dick. my head is spinning after this so thank you.

hi love <3 hehe thank you for this! i love kinks <3

i’m not too keen on making reader pregnant but i love a breeding kink & in my head … bucky has the biggest one (that’s what she said)

and his cock is fucking huge! beefy bucky with a huge cock makes me fall to my knees just for him. because im thinking how toned and beefy he is and how good he looks as soon as he comes out of a shower

like he’s still dripping wet with the towel slung low to his waist, hair pulled back into a low bun at the nape of his neck with some stray pieces falling. he’s humming a song you can’t really tell what it is, you’re too distracted anyways as soon as you see that towel fall

“hey baby?” he asks quietly as you look up at his, a smirk on his lips once you realize he caught you staring at him. “got something on your mind?” you bite your lip as you shake your head coyly with your cheeks heating up. he grins, walking towards you as your sitting on the bed, back against the headrest.

“you sure?” he asks again, crawling up the length of the bed before hovering over you, your back sliding down the pillow until his left thigh is between yours, pressed snug up against your bare cunt. between all this, you forget to reply as he takes your chin in his hand and makes you look up at him.

“asked you a question, babydoll. seems like you really have something on your mind.” he trails off, letting go of your chin before trailing his fingers down your throat making your body shiver at the slight touch of his skin on yours. you nod your head, but not telling the truth.

“mm, well we both know that’s not true. but i have something on my mind,” he says softly, dipping his head down to your collarbone as you feel his thick cock press hard into your thighs. you shiver as you feel his hips move slowly, his lips sucking on your skin as his hands travel down the sides of your body. he practically worships you every single chance he gets because how could he not? he was so fucking lucky to have some one like you under his arm.

“bucky…” your whine was quiet and you weren’t sure if he would’ve heard you but of course he did. those super solider senses were sharp — especially when it came to your and your sounds.

“what is it baby?” he asks against your skin, his body entrapping you against the sheets, everything smelling like him. he pulls back a bit sitting up, spreading your thighs a bit more so he could fit right in between.

the tip of his cock pressed against your wet hole, his finger strumming through your folds as his thumb rubs your clit. you squirm in place, soft whines leaving your lips as he just stares as you with blown out eyes, curly pieces of brown hair framing his face and the subtle lighting from the soft lamps make his features pop out more.

“wanna know what i’m thinking?” you don’t have time to answer as he continues to rub your clit in slow circles as he pushes his cock slowly into your cunt stretching you out around him. he shivers as he feels how tight you are, how soaked you already are and the slight pulses of your clit under the pad of his thumb

“how you would look stuffed full of my cum…” his eyes look at you lustfully as they drop down your body to your clit. “leaking out of this pretty pussy while i fuck it back into you. getting you round with my child.” he grunts softly as you whine in response.

“yeah, baby? you’d like that huh? letting me abuse this pretty little cunt of yours anytime i want. pumping you full of my cum and making sure it sticks everytime.” he pushed deeper into your cunt as he spoke, pressing harder on your clit as you gripped his arms as he fucked you. the obscene sounds of his cock fucking your wet hole and his heavy balls slapping against you covered in your slick made your head spin.

“you feel so fucking good, babydoll… fuck…” he lets out a deep moan, digging his nails into your hips. you shivered as you heard the praise, making his sense peek up as your body leans further into him when he praises you. he takes his finger away from your clit giving you some sort of relief as he bottoms out into your cunt when he reaches over to the nightstand drawer.

you let out a moan as you feel his cock stretch your cunt out fully, arching your back and pressing your chest into his. he groans, letting his head fall before he moves his hips for a few moments getting distracted by how warm your cunt feels.

pulling the drawer open as you wrap your limbs around his big body, he pulls out a small bullet vibrator and turns it on. he reaches in between your bodies and presses it against your swollen clit making you moan out.

“oh… fuck-!” he chuckles darkly as he starts to fuck you hard, the headboard slowly starting to hit the wall louder and louder with each stroke. his cock twitches in your cunt as you dig your nails into his back, the toy making your cunt clench around his cock every single time.

“you feel so fucking good baby, fuck. fuck i need to fill you up with my cum. you want that baby? you want daddy’s cum?” you whine as you nod, pressing into him. your body feels like it’s on fire with the vibrations of the toy and how his cock stretches your cunt out with a burn.

“please bucky, mm,” you lose your brain as you start melting into the sheets feeling your body shiver and your toes curl. he grins against your skin as he feels your cunt squeeze his cock for all it’s worth as he cums harshly, feeling you follow right after.

“oh, baby…” he hums softly as he tosses the toy to the side and sits up but doesn’t pull out. his cock is throbbing inside of you and you feel his cum leak out of your hole and down onto the sheets. “don’t think i’m done with you yet.”

[thus-spoke-lo]

Sexy Scumbags Series // Doflamingo Donquixote x afab!reader Masterlist // Prompt List

CW: afab!reader [no pronouns used]; vaginal intercourse; implied oral sex [m receiving]; dubcon/non-con elements; daddy kink; non-consensual/coerced exhibitionism; brief hair-pulling; doflamingo is his own content warning™ WC: 690

Daddy.

The word slipped from between your kiss-swollen lips with a surprising ease as Doflamingo’s thick cock nearly split you in two with every deep and unrelenting thrust. You were too weak, too lost in the haze of desire that consumed you both, to even notice it laced through your incoherent, fucked-out babbling and sobbing as another climax tore through your trembling body and urged him towards his own finish.

“Daddy, huh?” he growled into your ear as final throbs of his orgasm filled your sore, dripping cunt with every last drop of his spend. “I think I like that one.”

“I—I didn’t mean to,” you stammered, your mind clearing enough to realize what you’d said—and just how many times you’d said it as you begged him to go faster, harder, deeper. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have—”

“Aw, now is my sweet pet embarrassed?” he cooed, every word dripping with condescension. He rubbed his thumb over your burning cheek as you nodded, wiping away the tears that stained your skin. “Don’t worry, my darling—it’ll be our little secret, I promise. Just between you and daddy.”

You closed your eyes and thanked him, let the reassurances calm you for the moment, quiet the unease that suddenly crept up your throat and lodged there. He moved off of you and wrapped you in strong arms, pulling you against him and kissing down your neck, and his long fingers quickly found their way to your needy core again; any lingering shame was soon forgotten as you keened and sobbed your way through more spasms of pleasure.

A promise from Doflamingo could be as solid as steel, or as flimsy as an errant feather from his coat—and you were never certain which it would be.

----------

You hear your name being called from the pool and wander outside into the warmth. The rest of the family and a handful of low-level lackeys stand around looking useless as ever, mingling by the poolside and throughout the courtyard, all too self-involved to even turn their heads when Doflamingo shouts for you. He crooks his finger and beckons you to him where he sits, sprawled out across the wicker couch, his shirtless, tanned torso almost glowing in the bright afternoon sun.

“I missed my little darling,” he murmurs as he pulls you onto the cushion beside him and snakes his hand around your waist. “I was getting so lonely.”

He leans down and kisses you softly once, then slips his tongue between your lips and fucks your mouth as greedily as he fucks your cunt. He tugs at your hand and he places it against his clothed cock, already half-hard and twitching, and he grinds up into your palm.

“Please, not here,” you whisper between devastating kisses, knowing full well your little protest is futile. Besides, what did it matter? They’d all seen you in some sort of state of debasement often enough it was as natural a sight as a sunrise over the castle—normal, expected, something that was rarely worthy of comment.

“Oh yes here,” Doflamingo hisses back, throbbing harder under your touch the more you try to demur. “I said I was lonely—you’d deny me the pleasure of your company?”

He grins, and you know his eyes are glimmering with a sort of cruelty behind his crimson lenses—one that you’ve almost come to enjoy. He stands and unzips his trousers, sliding them down just enough to pull out his massive length and hold it in his hand. He grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you to your feet, guiding you forward until you’re eye-level with his veiny cock, and you watch as a strand of pre-cum drips from it in slow motion, leaving a blooming wet spot on the front of your shirt. You swallow hard as you realize there is no room to negotiate, and you suddenly feel the burn of watchful eyes settling on you from every direction

“Well, go on then,” he loudly proclaims, rubbing the leaking tip over your trembling lips as he cackles. “Show ‘em how much you love your daddy.”

[pin-k-ink]

matters of the heart // ukitake jushiro & kyoraku shunsui (pt. 3)

tw ⇢ highly suggestive content, threesome, implied sexual content but no explicit descriptions, unrequited love (kinda), some ukitake x kyoraku if you squint, bittersweet ending

wc ⇢ 2.5k

part one | part two | part three

The afternoon sun bathed the grounds of the First Division in a warm glow as you exited the meeting hall alongside Ukitake and Kyōraku. A light breeze carried the sweet scent of plum blossoms as the three of you meandered down the path together, no particular destination in mind.

"What a snoozefest," Kyōraku sighed dramatically, fanning himself. "I could barely stay awake through those dreadful inventory reports."

You chuckled at his antics. "As if you don't catch up on your napping during every dull meeting, you old lush."

"A fair accusation," he admitted with a roguish grin. "Though these days I do try to maintain some semblance of decorum befitting my elder statesman status."

Ukitake scoffed lightly at that. "Since when have propriety and discretion meant anything to you, Kyoraku?"

"Why Ukitake!" Kyōraku gasped in mock offense. "I'll have you know I am the very picture of distinguished refinement nowadays."

You couldn't stifle your bright peal of laughter, earning a wolfish wink from the older captain. Even Ukitake chuckled richly, unconsciously drifting a bit closer as you walked.

"If by 'distinguished refinement' you mean 'unrepentant laziness and wanton behavior,' then I wholeheartedly agree."

The familiar banter flowed easily as you strolled alongside the two captains, occasionally brushing arms in a way that sent little frissons dancing across your skin. The casual camaraderie was comfortingly familiar after centuries of closeness.

Yet you were exquisitely attuned to the undercurrents simmering just beneath - how Ukitake's gaze would linger heatedly whenever you met his vivid jade stare, or how Kyōraku's eyes seemed to smolder over any exposed sliver of skin as you moved.

The atmosphere thrummed with restrained tension, like the slightest misstep or lingering pause could upend everything into scorching intimacy once more. Still, you felt an odd tranquility simply basking in their presence, understanding you three teetered on the precipice of profound intimacies.

For the first time, you didn't ignore that inexorable yearning. When Ukitake's knuckles brushed yours, you didn't flinch away from the shiver it sparked. And when Kyōraku's voice took on that low, suggestive rasp, you held his stare boldly rather than deflecting.

The heated undercurrents soon shed any pretense at casual innocence. Until finally, Ukitake cleared his throat meaningfully, halting in the secluded garden as his voice took on a lower timbre.

"I don't think we're feeling inclined towards polite conversation this evening, are we?" He let the weighted words linger, gaze flicking between you and Kyōraku laden with suggestion.

Kyōraku absorbed the intimation, expression sobering briefly before that wolfish grin curved his lips. He shifted nearer to you. "No...I don't suppose we are."

The heated tension was palpable as the three of you made your way to your quarters, the closest destination. A charged silence blanketed your footsteps, the anticipation thick enough to taste on the back of your tongue.

No sooner had the door slid shut behind you than Ukitake was pressed flush against your back, calloused palms skimming over the curve of your hips as he pinned you deliciously between his solid frame and Kyōraku's prowling advance. The older captain stalked forward until you were caged between them, russet eyes blazing with undisguised hunger as he cupped your jaw to angle your mouth up for a searing, openmouthed kiss.

You melted into the ferocious clash of lips and questing tongues, a low keen spilling free when Ukitake's teeth grazed the sensitive juncture of your neck and shoulder. His large hands drifted higher to knead at the swell of your breasts in firm squeezes through the layers of fabric in tandem with each slick glide of Kyōraku's mouth claiming you.

The two captains moved in an intoxicating synchronicity rutting you between their scorching hardnesses. Dexterous fingers made short work of your uniform in a flurry of shuddery exhales and rustling fabric until you were bared before their ravenous gazes. Dusky nipples pebbled in the cooler air, only to be instantly soothed by the twin brands of Kyōraku's palm cradling one tingling curve as Ukitake's mouth blazed a molten path over the other with merciless suction.

You cried out inarticulately at the intense duality of sensation, hips bucking shamelessly to grind back against the rigid line of Ukitake's impressive cock confined in his hakama. Kyōraku rumbled out a sound of approval deep in his chest, withdrawing just enough to latch hungrily onto the exposed column of your throat as you arched into his attentions with a keening whimper of need.

Finally, their heated onslaught culminated with you being lowered onto the rumpled bedding in an elegant tangle of limbs and scorching caresses. Searing kisses and urgent explorations stretched in an endless, simmering feedback loop of rapture cresting higher with each ragged inhale. Until all that existed in the universe was the exquisite coalescence of your existences transcending into sublime singularity in that suspended infinity.

In the aftermath, you luxuriated amidst the ruin of tumbled bedding and disheveled bodies strewn about in sacred indolence. A fine sheen of perspiration still gilded your heated flesh, thrumming with echoes of transcendence only just surrendered.

Kyōraku let out a bone-deep groan of repletion, idly tracing patterns into the sweeping curve of your ribcage where you were nestled between his larger frame and Ukitake's slighter form curled in studious appreciation against you. The pale-haired captain simply hummed out a soft, contented noise, pressing a deliberate graze of velvet lips against the crown of your head as his callused palm wandered lower to settle possessively over your abdomen.

All around you, the air hung thick and muggy with the lingering scent of sex - ribbons of intermingled spiritual pressure and heady arousal still clinging in the atmosphere's ionic charge. Yet beneath that smoldering corona of sensuality was an unmistakable resonance of something far more profound.

As if you three existed within the eye of a maelstrom, briefly suspended in rapturous singularity where time itself hung in delicious abeyance. Allowed to simply exist within the radiant coalescence of fates rendered molten and quintessentially intertwined into a seamless, eternal orbit.

It was a transcendent resonance beyond the mortal tethers which had bound your existences for so long - the culmination of celestial forces finally acknowledging and embracing their inescapable gravities towards sublime synthesis. An irrevocable truth temporarily made visceral and tangible through that suspended infinity of soulful coalescence.

For a time untold, you simply basked in the sacrosanct quiet in one another's vital presences. Content to let the echoes of eternity reverberate through your mingled existences as all that was and ever would be blurred into an ouroboros of rapturous surrender and inevitable gravities finally consummated.

Until at last, Kyōraku's rich timbre rumbled out in a rasping murmur that somehow managed to resonate straight into the very fabric of your essence.

"Well now, I don't know about the two of you...but I do believe this old soul feels decidedly reborn in the most profoundly invigorating of ways."

You felt more than heard Ukitake's answering hum of wordless agreement vibrating against the sensitive sweep of your jugular. But it was his questing hand drifting higher to entwine possessively with Kyōraku's larger palm against the flat of your abdomen that seemed to speak entire volumes of unspoken affirmations and promises.

For several weightless breaths, the intimately tangled sprawl of you simply existed within the sacred accord of raptures earned and celestial gravities eternally acknowledged. Until finally, the last lingering resonance shivered and settled - like a rippling cosmic crescendo answering the universe's ultimate anthem before lapsing back into the stillness of inevitability fulfilled.

In the aftermath of such incomprehensible transcendence, there could only be the sweetest of surrenders to that infinite, unbreakable trine reaffirmed and accepted in its ultimate, sublime resonance. So you simply shifted deeper into their encompassing embrace, pressing reverent kisses to the salty hollow between collarbones as your fingers intertwined with those of your oldest companions in existential reclamation.

"Then it seems we were all reborn anew this evening..." you rasped out with aching sincerity. "Unto this inevitable truth at last."

You lounged back against the ornately carved headboard, sheets pooled around your waist as the afterglow still tingled deliciously across your bare skin. Ukitake mirrored your pose, the scorching heat of his body radiating where your shoulders brushed.

Kyōraku remained sprawled nearby, head pillowed on your hip as he watched you both with a lazy, satiated smile. "Now there's a vision I could get utterly spoiled admiring forever," he rumbled in that deep, gravelly timbre.

You shivered at the pure sin lacing his tone, arousal flickering low in your belly. Before you could respond, Ukitake's mouth was blazing a path along the sensitive column of your throat in unhurried kisses and teasing nips.

"Somehow I doubt that's the only indulgence you have in mind, you old lech," he murmured against the thundering pulse beneath your jaw, voice dropping into that gravelly register that never failed to rekindle smoldering embers low in your belly.

Kyōraku let out an appreciative groan as he watched Ukitake's mouth meander over your skin with clear relish. "No need to be coy, Ukitake. We're all friends here who've shared rather...intimate company enough times to know each other's preferences."

You squirmed helplessly under the onslaught, breath hitching on a needy whine as Ukitake's wicked tongue swirled around one of your nipples. His only response was a low, heated chuckle vibrating against your tingling flesh.

His gaze was naked hunger as it tracked the path of Ukitake's lips, Higher and higher until he claimed your mouth in a scorching, openmouthed kiss that punched the air from your lungs with its intensity. You arched shamelessly into the velvet heat of his questing tongue, fingers burying into his disheveled hair to angle him even closer as you both rumbled out matching sounds of rapture.

Kyōraku's groan was nearly pained as he drank in the lewd image, hastily palming himself through the rumpled blanket in an unconscious bid for friction. Still, there was an unmistakable sweetness tingeing his molten regard that transcended mere lust. An affectionate bittersweetness, as if he recognized a profundly intimate resonance between you and Ukitake that his own bond could never wholly replicate - no matter how sublime.

When you finally resurfaced gasping from Ukitake's searing kiss, cheeks stained with arousal, it was to find Kyōraku already extracting himself from the decadent sprawl with reluctant grace. You blinked at him with bemused confusion, but he simply shook his head with a tender smile curving those wicked lips.

For all the heat and naked desire that simmered in the thick atmosphere blanketing you three...there was a profound depth of intimacy between you and Ukitake that stood on another celestial plane entirely. One he couldn't hope to encroach upon no matter his eternal brotherhood.

Kyōraku seemed to reach that very conclusion in the same suspended beat. Because he was already loosely tying his robes back on, pressing a kiss to the sensitive juncture of your neck and shoulder.

"I'll leave the two of you to indulge in your well-earned intimacies undisturbed for now," he murmured roughly, chasing away any confusion with a roguish wink and flash of that dimpled smile you'd grown to cherish over eternities. "Though don't think for a second this means I'll be sated forever, my dears."

You wanted to protest his gentle departure, to insist he stay and join you both in chasing the next molten crest of euphoria. But Kyōraku was already leaning down to claim your lips in one final lingering, soul-scorching kiss that seemed to sear entire profundities directly into that breathless communion.

His tongue delved deep to taste and brand before withdrawing with clear reluctance, leaving you dazed and clinging. Chasing the remnants of his unmistakable farewell until understanding finally blossomed alongside the sweet ache of bittersweet yearning blooming in the wake of his departure.

Then Kyōraku was simply...gone, whisking himself out the door and into the night-cloaked halls with footfalls lighter than accustomed for such an old scoundrel. Leaving you and Ukitake to bask in the profoundly intimate wake, bodies still tangled and trembling from the echoes of transcendent intimacy.

It was the pale-haired captain who finally broke the weighted hush that had descended in Kyōraku's wake. One calloused palm cupped the line of your jaw with infinite tenderness as he guided your joined gazes into soulsearing alignment—emerald fires blazing with eternal truths laid molten-bare between your mingled existences.

"He sees far more than we often give credit for, doesn't he?" Ukitake rasped, the low timbre of sincerity reverberating straight through to your depths. "For him to recognize that what exists between us..."

He trailed off meaningfully, allowing the heated intimation to linger in the suspended stillness as his calloused thumb traced your swollen lower lip with infinite tenderness.

You could only nod wordlessly at first, captivated by the intensity burning behind his stare. For Kyōraku had willingly surrendered these most sacred, sublime moments in recognition of the infinite gravities anchoring your soul ever tighter around Ukitake's in that breathless infinity.

His mouth claimed yours again in a searing brand of transcendent belonging - bodies melting back into the sort of sublime soulbond that seemed to resonate straight through the bedrock of creation itself. Until the entire universe had winnowed down into the exquisite singularity of your joined devotions.

You clung to Ukitake with everything you had, desperate to lose yourself fully in the endless eddies and euphoric tides of his kiss. Of surrendering completely to the infinite gravities pulling your existences into tighter and tighter resonance until separateness became an outmoded concept.

His hands roamed your curves with possessive reverence, kindling an answering inferno in your blood until you were both trembling on the precipice of rapturous oblivion once more. Then with one achingly precise rock of his hips, Ukitake sheathed himself inside you in a blazing arc of sublime coalescence.

You cried out at the exquisite brand, back bowing as he stilled for a beat - letting the tremors of your joined apotheosis blaze outwards into the universe in scorching ripples. Each particle of your beings seemed to snap into molten alignment, soulfire and stardust combusting in tandem as Ukitake began to move with purposeful leisure.

There were no words in that timeless eternity, just the shared truth of your bond consecrated between your tangled forms. The world outside ceased to exist as Ukitake moved with devoted reverence, pushing you both ever higher towards rapturous completion.

Until finally, blissful euphoria crashed over you in a blinding supernova, shattering you apart as you surrendered to that consecrated oneness. You drifted adrift in the stillness afterward, unwilling to fully emerge from the singularity you'd distilled into.

But inevitably, the temporal world began to reassert its inescapable pull. You stirred apart with profound reluctance as the tremors slowly subsided into embers. Until you found yourself cradled in Ukitake's lap, your tangled bodies the sole remainders of the infinite plane you'd briefly transcended into.

No words were exchanged in that suspended moment, only the wordless resonance of the elemental truth forged between your souls. You simply traced the contours of his beloved face, allowing the profound intimacies to linger in smoldering silence - a bittersweetness settling in the spaces where your essences slowly unwound until the next eternity beckoned you into sacred consonance once more.

[avengersassemble123]

ASKING TOKREV BOYS FOR YOU TO WAX THEM

Characters/pairings: Mikey x reader, draken x reader, Takemichi x reader, Baji x reader, Chifuyu x reader

—————

MIKEY

“Hold on now” Mikey interrupted, as he stopped you from peeling the wax layer on his belly button area by his one hand while the other supported him onto the bathroom sink, “You’re acting like I chose this, when you just wanted to see my reaction.” He yammered, his past confident demeanor dissolving. “You did choose to do this Mikey.” You said with a blank face, although trying yourself from keeping the small smile slip out as your body was contained with uncontrollable laughter.

“EEESSHHH” Your boyfriend hissed, grabbing your hand tightly from peeling the layer, glaring at you, while you finally let out your snort. “You’re not listening. You’re not listening.” Your boyfriend called out, his hands gesturing towards his ears, “You’re not listening to me. Look me in they eyes and have some-you gotta have- Oh my god Y/N you gotta feel for the other people. You just can’t do what you can do. Why do you think doctors are doctors? They don’t just rip out like anything, they rip out with a sort of manner-“. You tried shushing him while slowly moving your hand towards the belly, “Y/N stop I know what you’re trying to do. You gotta listen to me-”

You stopped your boyfriend’s babbling by slamming your lips against his gently, to which he reciprocated passionately. After a few seconds, you departed your lips from his, your eyes slowly opening while his remain intact,

“I love you.” You said

“I love you t-“

You ripped out the layer without warning, which led to Mikey widen his eyes in shock, a short high pitched scream being let out from his throat. You stood with your mouth agape, leaning forward and wheezing, while you boyfriend instantly covered his belly with his hands. You continued cackling while your boyfriend supported himself by the sink, rubbing his belly and groaning audibly, nodding his head with a pout.

—-

DRAKEN

Draken knew what waxing was as he had seen the girls in the salon do it. But that didn’t mean he was keen into it.

“Let me know when you’re ready.” You said, as Draken looked at you mixing the melted wax, “ Not really, but do I have a choice since I know you’ll bother me even if I say otherwise..”

He touched the machine and mixed the semi solid lotion, wincing and realizing how hot it is, “oh no..”

You instructed him to put powder in his nostrils, after which you put the candy sticks, dipped with hot wax in his nostrils, making him wince at the hotness, “Goddamn it’s hot, you said it was gonna be warm.” He winced, which made you chuckle.

Your boyfriend laid patiently, as you both waited for the wax to solidify, you laughing few times at the scene of your boyfriend with two sticks and wax stuffed in his nose, while he laid and read a magazine.

“One. Two. Three.” You called out as you ripped out the stick from his left inner nostril. Draken sat still, his eyes widened and blinking rapidly and mouth agape, staring at the wax stick on your hand with his nose hair on it. “I thought you were gonna yell to be honest.” You laughed as your boyfriend rubbed his eyes which had accumulated slight tears due to the pain, “The pain is way more than yelling.” He replied nodding his head. “Get this shit off of me.” He said pulling your hand towards the other stick in his nose.

Your boyfriend took a deep breath, before you counted to three and ripping out the other stick, which made him loudly groan in pain, touching his nose by his right hand as he leaned back, while you cackled at the scene in front of you.

—-

TAKEMICHI

Takemichi laid in the bed, as you applied the wax strip on his chest. “Michi are you sure you wanna do the chest area?” You asked with an eyebrow raised, letting out a small smile. “Yea I’m sure. I don’t think it’s going to hurt that much. It doesn’t even seem so painful.” “Alright..whatever you say.” You replied stifling your laughter as you then applied the wax on his chest.

Four wax strips were laid on his chest, with your boyfriend surprisingly confident. “It’s a little hot, but I’ve handled worse.” He said, but his expression betraying him as you could see sweat rolling down his head, for reasons maybe unknown to you or not. “It’s not gonna hurt that much right?” “We’ll see.” You retorted with a smile, which made your boyfriend’s face pale at your reply.

“Three. Two. One.” You ripped out the strip which made your boyfriend holler a loud scream, his hands going to shield his chest, while you cackled beside him, wheezing at his expression which now streamed tears from his eyes, “OH MY GOD THIS HURTS??” He exclaimed while rubbing his sore part which was burning. “Oh my god baby are you alright?” You said reaching to hug him, with tears almost running from your eyes, for different reasons compared to your boyfriend’s. “Yeah I’ll be fine don’t worry about me. As I said I’ve suffered worse.” He said letting out a smile, while his hands covered his chest.

You went towards another strip but before you could, your hand was stopped by Takemichi holding it back, while he used his other hand to lay over the wax strips from keeping you from ripping it, “Listen baby, listen-“ “Michi I need to remove the other strips.” “Are you sure there’s no other way?” You chuckled at his reaction, before nodding a ‘no’.

“Fine..just give me a few minutes to calm down.” “Okay”

After 10 mins you tried again, this time with a cloth stuffed in his mouth and him breathing violently through his nose.

—-

BAJI

“You better wipe that smug smile off your face when I say ‘I told you so’”. “Oh please it doesn’t even seem that bad.”

Baji was sitting on your bed cross-legged while you were sitting beside him, mixing the melted wax on the bedside table. You put the sticks with the wax in his nostrils, while he continued to be smug, saying how it didn’t even hurt a bit (although you did see him furrow his eyebrows and make a slight troubled face when putting the sticks inside his nostrils).

“Alright lay down, I’m about to pull it out.” “Let’s hope this is at-least a bit fun.” Now you were determined as well as sure that you could wipe his smug smile off his face. You were stifling with laughter as you sat on his lap, moving forward, holding the stick, “Whenever you’re ready.”

You pulled the stick with less force as to not hurt your boyfriend but that led to you failing to pull it out, which now led to your boyfriend howling in pain, making you jolt back in surprise and get off him, as you covered your face to hold in your laughter which you desperately failed. Baji screamed one more time, sitting up on the bed with his mouth agape, his hands holding the sticks, turning and facing towards you, “YOU STUPID BITCH!!” You wheezed more intensely after hearing him call you out like that, “FUCKING HELL THIS SHIT HURT!” Baji yelled at you, as you were now laying on the bed clutching your stomach in pain, tears streaming down your face. “Oh my god it’s stuck in my nose.” Baji groaned as he tried removing the sticks, but by a high margin failing. “Oh my god it’s hard as fuck.” “Yes, it’s because you have to rip it out.” You explained still laughing at your boyfriend’s reaction. “Baji I told you it was gonna hurt.”

Your boyfriend walked towards the mirror, “Oh my god it’s stuck to my- oh my- This stupid fucking bitch I swear to god.” He continued cursing while you laid on the bed cry-laughing, looking at your boyfriend trying to pull the wax out from his nostrils, yelling and groaning in pain.

—-

CHIFUYU

“UHHHHHHH” Chifuyu let out a pained groan as he attempted to remove the wax strip on his armpit. “UHHH FUCK AHHHHHH” Chifuyu yelled and moaned, which made you laugh at the scene playing out in front of you.

“UHH FUCK Y/N I HAVE TO GO FAST” “THATS EXACTLY WHAT I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO TELL YOU.” You exclaimed, your face red of laughter. “Y/N, Y/N” Chifuyu called out. “Wait I’ll help.” You said moving closer to him, as you held his arm more straight up, “GO UP! NO WAIT DOWN! WAIT!”

“I’ll go up” you said, trying to dissolve your boyfriend’s confusion, and also to relieve from his pain easily.

“THREE. TWO. ONE. GO!” You ripped half the strip, making your boyfriend’s eyes widen in pain, “Y/NNNN” he whined, “Baby don’t worry you’ll be fine.” You said, hugging your boyfriend.

“What the fuck let’s do this.” He took a deep breath before counting down again, this time a much bigger portion being shaved, only a small part of the strip being stuck. “EESSSHHHHH Y/N it hurtss” Chifuyu hissed, covering his armpit by his other hand, leaning forward.

“Alright just a bit is left.” You said, moving towards the strip, to which he stopped you by one hand, “Wait wait not like this. Pull it from the down.” You complied, “when you’re ready Chifuyu.”

“Fuck this. I’m never gonna underestimate your advices Y/N again I promise. Just get this off me.” Your boyfriend took a deep breath, before closing his eyes and groaned audibly, as you counted down.

You ripped the remaining part off, which led to your boyfriend lean forward, holding his hand on the armpit, rubbing the slightly burning area, as you laughed and hugged him, roaming your hands through his hair.

[idolatrybarbie]

pairing: santa!francisco "frankie" morales x fem!reader

word count & rating: 886 words | explicit jesus christ

summary: you're joking, right?

tags: santa kink???, cockwarming, cum, like so much cum, unprotected vaginal sex, unethical use of a mall Santa Village, semi-public sex, dirty talk and pet names, mentions of free use.

notes: hiatus more like LIEatus. what am i supposed to say here. this is unedited, straight off the dome. blame the gin twins @atinylittlepain @wannab-urs. sorry?

You can’t tell how long you’ve been sat here. The sprawling hall is dim with light, security fluorescents shining from the glossy, guarded windows of each storefront. Without all this festive set dressing, the mall at night would be purely creepy. With Santa’s Village set up amid all the sleek chaos, though, it’s cheerfully welcome. And here you are, taking full advantage of the generous invite.

Sat on Santa’s lap, you shuffle your hips the slightest bit, trying to relieve the tingles that run up and down your calf. Frankie—err, Saint Nick slaps your ass with a solid gloved hand.

“Sit still,” he tells you.

“Sorry, Mr. Claus.”

You stutter on a sigh as you feel him twitch inside you. The last thing you expected was to be spending Christmas Eve speared on Santa’s cock, keeping him warm as a nasty blizzard blows wildly outside.

“Have you been a good girl for me this year?” he asks, voice gruff.

“Yes, I promise,” you keen.

Facing away from him, you can feel the tickle of his magically fluffy white beard against the nape of your neck. The only thing keeping you sane is the thought of that same plush softly running along the skin of your inner thighs. Imaging Santa’s tongue in your cunt has you clenching around him, earning you a groan.

“You seem pretty naughty to me,” Santa says.

“Please, Mr. Claus. Santa, I need it.”

Without warning, he punches his hips up. The tip of his jolly cock reaches the very ends of your cunt in a pinch of painful pleasure.

“You’ll take what I give you, when I give it to you,” he says. “Keeping me nice and warm right here, honey. Be a good girl for me and you’ll get a nice present this year. Promise.”

“Santa, please. I’ll be such a good girl next year, I promise.”

“Yeah? How am I gonna hold you to it, little girl?” Santa asks. “Maybe I’ll keep you with the rest of my elves. They all work real hard, you know. Maybe I could put you to work.” He starts to move his hips, thrusts lazy into your wet heat as he continues to ramble. “Yeah, think I’ll do just that. While the rest of ‘em make toys for all the good girls and boys, you can stay right here with me. You can be my toy, honey.”

“Fuck,” you whisper.

“A bad word? That wasn’t very nice.”

Santa picks up speed, cock practically sloshing through your sopping cunt like driven-through snow.

“I think you’ll like it up North. Christ knows you’ll be getting enough pole,” Santa continues. He grips the skin of your neck in his hand with his thick fingers, holding you up like a disobedient kitten. “That’ll teach you how to be a good little girl. Hard work, all day every day. Usually Mrs. Claus does the baking, but I’ve got a special icing for this little cookie.”

The thought of being fucked, purely used at any time of day for 365 days of the year has the soft embers in your belly growing to scorching flames. He lets go of your neck, bringing that hand to the column of your throat while his other hand skates down the naked plains of your chest. His fabric-covered hand slides between your breasts and past your diaphragm, pressing down at the soft spot between your stomach and pelvis.

Each upwards stroke has you almost gagging, tongue lolling out of your mouth as you surrender any intelligent thought or movement. You can feel yourself dripping down around him, pooling between your thighs to the dark, sticky velvet of his disheveled pants.

“Look at you, little girl. My sweet doll. All plug n’ play, aren’t you? You like being my hard little worker?” Santa asks, lips brushing against your ear. “Want me to fill you up?”

“Please, please, please,” you chant in time with each of his thrusts.

“It’s pretty chilly in here. Can’t wait to watch it drip out of you. Think it’d make an icicle for me?”

“Ah, oh god,” you cry.

“I’ll let it drip over you, right back into that pretty pussy. How’s that sound?”

You’re past the point of talking. Santa uses your body for his pleasure, legs spread out in front of you like the wings of a turtledove. The constant smack smack smack of wet thighs and pussy almost creates a caroling tune; something for your mind to grasp onto as he fucks you stupid.

“I’ll have to make sure my girl doesn’t get too greedy. Can’t have you hogging all the toys next Christmas. Can’t have you too naughty,” Santa says. Then, “Ho—oh, it’s coming, honey. You ready for your Christmas gift from Santa?”

You bob your head in a nod, biting your lip as he gets his last few thrusts in. Your cunt sucks him in hungrily, squeezing with your own orgasm as you simultaneously milk Santa of his wintry blast. Somewhere in your haze of pleasure, you hear the faint jingle of Christmas bells. Finally, you’re sat still in his lap again. His snowy spend leaks out of you slowly, soiling the crotch of his pants further.

“D’you like what you got this year, little girl?” Santa asks.

“Yeah,” you say, breathless. “Can’t wait for next year.”

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: fear???

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

the whole time i was writing this chapter i had the “three little birds sat on my window” song stuck in my head so i named the chapter that lmao

part thirty-four

❝ THREE LITTLE BIRDS ❞

FRIDAY — AUGUST 3 — 11:43PM

BENTLEY’S BARE FEET SKIDDED ON THE WHITE FLOOR AS HE RAN FULL-SPEED INTO A LEFT TURN, NEARLY FALLING RIGHT OVER DUE TO THE BLIND PANIC HE’D FOUND HIMSELF IN.

He couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t hear. The only instinct he could grab ahold of in that moment was run, so he was running; through the white hallways that reminded him so much of Dr. Keene’s lab, the back of his eyes burning spectacularly, because…

Her.

She…

He narrowly missed banging into the wall on his next full-speed right turn. Where was he going? He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything other than the fact that he needed to run.

“Don’t be afraid, Babybird,” She cooed from nowhere, directly into his ears, his skull. “You were bound to find me again one day. Don’t act so shocked.”

Bentley pushed himself as fast as he could go, the burning behind his eyes quickly turning to full-fledged tears that started streaming down his face and strangled sobs that ripped their way up his throat. He had to get out of there. He had to get out. He had to-

“Careful where you’re going,”

Bentley skidded into another left turn as fast as his legs could move, blindly.

And as soon as he turned, he slammed face-first into something else — something that had been moving really fast, too. Something that made a muffled sound when they hit, and made a thump on the white floor just like Bentley did.

He forced himself up almost immediately, shoving himself off of the floor so urgently he careened into the wall from the force. Pain was blooming through his veins and muscles and bones but he ignored it. He had to run, he had to-

“Bentley?”

He managed to focus through his terror and tears on the person who he’d rammed into.

Rockie jerked himself off the floor, stumbling a few steps backwards. He wasn’t in a hospital gown like Bentley, but a solid white jumpsuit with nothing on it, the sleeves tucked down into his metal gloves. He was panting, and he also had tears streaming down the sides of his face, too.

“…Rockie?” He questioned. A loud wham erupted from the end of the hall, the direction Rockie had been coming from — so he lurched forward and grabbed Bentley’s arm and pulled him away from the sound, back the direction he’d just come.

“No, no, no, no, stop!” Bentley ordered, digging his heels into the floor and baring all of his weight against Rockie’s grip. “She’s this way, she was behind me, she was-“

Rockie turned to look at him, wiping his furiously watering eyes. “You can see her, too?”

Bentley didn’t say anything.

“My two favorite birds,” Her voice came, and Rockie looked around frantically, as though he heard her, as well. He pulled on Bentleys arm until he was haphazardly placed behind his back, protection that wouldn’t actually help against a psychopath like her. “Isn’t it kind of rude if we don’t invite my third favorite birdy, though?” 

Bentley and Rockie both whipped around instantly, hearts hammering in their ribcages when a bloodcurdling scream from a familiar voice ripped down the hall from somewhere they couldn’t see. “No!”

Rockie’s grip on Bentley’s arm was so tight it was painful, but Bentley couldn’t find it in himself to care. Between the terror and the crying, he couldn’t even think straight enough to focus on it.

“No! No, please!”

Bentley knew that voice. He knew it, and if he could get his mind to obeyhim for half a second, he might be able to tell who it was. But his mind didn’tobey — his heart was slamming around in his chest, booming in his ears, and it felt like his throat was full of cotton that was blocking his airway. He was having to put so much of his willpower into not having a panic attack that he physically couldn’t think about anything else.

Luckily, Rockie’s brain was working a little better than his, because he wiped his eyes with one hand and muttered: “It’s Bellamy.”

Bentley glanced down the hallway, and a new sort of terror and panic joined the terror and panic he’d already been experiencing — the inescapable dread that came along with the realization that she had him. Bellamy. And that he needed to get him the hell away from her.

Shit.

Without warning (or much thought) Bentley wrenched his arm out of Rockie’s grasp and started running toward the screaming.

“Bentley!” He heard Rockie call out, but it went mostly over his head.

Bentley took a few turns, listening dutifully for where the screams seemed to be coming from, and not much later, he heard Rockie’s footsteps coming from behind him. He turned one more time until he was sure he was on the hallway where the screaming was originating — it was lined with dozens of metal doors, all standing open, hall lights off but the dim lights in the rooms filtering into the empty corridor. 

Bentley inched down the hall, glancing into the doors one by one as he passed. Most of the rooms were solid white and empty, apart from the occasional set of chains attached to the floor or ceiling. He put a hand over his mouth to stifle his sobs into something quiet — not that that would help against a girl who fought him inside his own head.

He suddenly realized the sound of their footsteps had thinned to one pair, and that meant Rockie had stopped walking.

Bentley turned back, and luckily, the older boy hadn’t vanished. He was just standing at one of the doors, staring inside an empty room.

Bentley backtracked, walking up to the door he was looking at and peering inside. Bellamy wasn’t in there, but there was a set of chains attached to the floor, and a…

Rubik’s cube? Just sitting in the middle of the room? 

He glanced up at Rockie, who seemed fixated on the little thing for reasons Bentley wasn’t aware of, but he didn’t seem interested or even confused. He seemed like he could be, almost… sad? Or afraid? Something like recognition, nostalgia was swirling in his green irises, but not the good type; and Bentley wondered why.

“No! Please!”

Both Rockie and Bentley whipped around at the startling proximity of the screaming to them — like Bellamy was in one of the few rooms they were right next to.

Then, in one sudden moment that scared them all half to death, Bellamy shot out of the door right across the hallway (hadn’t Bentley just checked that one?) and screamed in terror when he saw them, skidding to an abrupt stop.

He was in the same jumpsuit as Rockie, his brown eyes red and streaming with endless tears. The moment his gaze flicked between them, and he comprehended who it actually was, he dissolved into a bout of quiet, entire-body wracking sobs, lurching forward and grabbing around Bentley’s torso for dear life.

“She-she’s gonna k-ill me,” He choked, crying so hard he started coughing. “She’s gonna- she’s gonna…”

“Why are you so scared? I haven’t even touched you yet,”

As much as Bentley hated it, he wiped his (still crying) eyes and forced Bellamy to let go of him, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him blindly, quickly down the hall with Rockie hot on their heels. He didn’t know where they were going. Somewhere. Anywhere.

And then all the lights cut off.

The three of them skidded to a blind stop, and Bellamy stayed pressed up against Bentley’s left side, holding onto his hospital gown like he’d float away if he let go. The only sounds that were audible in the dark halls were the soft telltale sniffles that came with all three of them crying. 

Then there was a faint click-click-click sound from right next to them. Then a clack! (The click-click-click clack! of Davis taking off his metal gloves and dropping them on the floor echoed in Bentley’s mind for half a second. Now that he thought about it, Rockie’s gloves looked just like his.)

“What’re you going to do with that hand?” Her voice came, with a mocking tone, confirming Bentley’s suspicions that a glove had been removed. “I’m in your mind. Nothing you do to me is real.”

The arms that were around him tightened, and Bentley looked down into the pitch blackness at where he thought Bellamy’s head would be if he could see.

“But what I do to you, that is real. If I want it to be,”

Bentley turned his head in the darkness when a pained noise came from his right. “Rockie?”

No reply — just dead, dead silence that lasted far longer than he’d have liked. Then came a simple thump.

The lights flicked on, and Rockie was unconscious in the floor, nose and ears pouring blood.

“Rockie!” Bentley tried kneeling down to him, but he suddenly couldn’t move, like his legs and arms and muscles weren’t obeying him. 

Like he was on the roof and she’d slid a noose over his head and he was walking to the edge against his will-

The only thing Bentley had control over seemed to be the fact that he was crying. His arms and legs just moved without him, and he took a few steps backwards until his back thudded against the wall. “Bellamy, run.”

Bentley saw his bloodshot brown eyes for only a millisecond before everything went black again. It felt like he was pinned to the wall — his muscles didn’t respond, none of them except for his face. Maybe because him crying in terror brought her joy?

The lights flicked back on, and she was standing directly in front of him, her face only inches from his, her hands baring down on his shoulders just hard enough to cause a little pain. Her stitched smile looked fresh, but it always looked fresh, and her amber eyes were drilling into his skull with an absolutely manic look about them. Her platinum hair was hanging down, and every time she exhaled, she blew the blood-soaked strands into Bentley’s face.

He didn’t scream. He didn’t try to fight. He just sobbed.

“You’re no fun anymore, babybird. What do I have to do to get a rise out of you nowadays?”

Her amber eyes slid over to Bellamy, who was standing a mere dozen feet away, mortified, staring with tears streaming down his face at a rapid rate.

Bentley tried to move, but his body didn’t obey. “Don’t touch him.”

He saw Bellamy turn to run in his peripheral, so the Secret Keeper let go of one of Bentley’s shoulders and pointed at him. “Don’t move, Birdy.”

Bellamy went rigid, stopped in his tracks — which likely meant she had his body, too.

“Don’t touch him!” Bentley repeated, louder, though it didn’t sound tough when he was crying his eyes out. A maniacal, sinister giggle bubbled up out of the Secret Keeper’s chest. 

“I don’t have to,”

Bellamy was facing away from Bentley, but he started screaming. Not the scared sort of screaming from earlier, but a worse scream, rooted in pain that couldn’t be explained by words.

“Stop!” Bentley shouted, trying his best to move his body even though it just wouldn’t move. “Stop! Do it to me instead!”

“What’s the fun in that?” She laughed. She snapped her fingers and Bellamy fell like his strings had been cut, curling up tightly on the floor with screams and sobs of pure agony.

“Stop! Stop it, please! Why are you doing this?!” Bentley continued with a sob, glancing over at Rockie, who was still unconscious on the floor. “We didn’t do anything to you!”

“If I do recall, babybird, you tried to kill me,” She spat, venom on her tongue, amber eyes boring into his skull. “I think a little revenge is justified.”

“You were trying to hang me!” He cried, eyes flicking to Bellamy, who was still screaming. “Please. He’s just a kid. He didn’t do anything.”

She blinked once, twice, as though she was processing something. Something in her amber eyes shifted. “Say my name.”

Bentley tried to move, to wrench himself out of her grip, but he couldn’t make his body obey.

“Say my name!” She ordered, louder, almost desperately. Then she shouted: “Shut up!” But it wasn’t at him, it was almost… at herself?

“Say my name!” She repeated.  “Shut up!”

Why did she want him to…

To…

Bentley looked at her, choking on a few more quiet sobs. “Charlie?”

The Secret Keeper made a sound akin to an animalistic growl, flinching away from him and clawing at her own face like he’d sprayed acid in her eyes. 

He could move his fingers.

“Charlie,” He repeated, sniffling lightly. Bellamy’s screaming began to subside. 

“If you don’t stop talking, I’ll kill him right now!” She spat, pointing at Bellamy again, who screamed like someone had just stabbed him.

“Charlie, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie-“

The Secret Keeper covered her ears and roared like some kind of beast.

And then she stopped. 

And she looked at him.

Her eyes began to flicker — between amber and blue. 

“Wake up,” Her voice said. It was lighter, smoother, different. It wasn’t the Secret Keeper, it was Charlie. “Wake up!”

Bentley felt like he’d been shot in the head, like he was falling and spinning in circles at unimaginable speeds. Like he was hurdling through outer-space while it threatened to tear him apart.

A high-pitched ring squealed in his ears, so loud it hurt. White swam in his vision and morphed into a myriad of colors. And with a whoosh sound and a wave of vertigo that made him instantly nauseous, Rockie’s bathroom swam into focus.

Bentley was on the floor, his back braced against the sink cabinet and aching like he’d fallen. He had tears streaming down his face, and it was hard to breathe, like he had cotton in his throat-

Rockie jumped out of his asleep (unconscious?) state on the floor with a shout of terror, scrambling there until he was nothing more than a small ball shoved in the corner against the bathtub. Bentley might’ve said something to him, if he could get air to enter his body, which he couldn’t.

He forced himself to look over at Rockie. His nose and ears weren’t bleeding like they had been in… there. The nightmare, vision thing. (Bentley had been a hundred percent awake when he was pulled into that.. so he wasn’t sure what to call it.)

Rockie had his legs tucked up to his chest as close as they could go, gloved hands laced in his hair with his head down, sobs wracking his trembling frame. He looked eerily small.

Bentley thought again about reaching out, but he was crying so hard he couldn’t get his brain to listen. He just pulled his knees up, too, wrapping his arms around them only to find that his entire body was trembling violently.

“You were… in my…?” Rockie mumbled. Bentley guessed he was about to say nightmare. He wondered how long he’d been in there with the Secret Keeper alone before she pulled Bentley into it.

Bentley gave him a jerky nod.

And then someone across the dorm started screaming.

They finally managed to look at each other, their terrified, wide, crying eyes locking, brown and green.

Rockie pushed himself out of the floor on queue, but Bentley’s body didn’t obey as well as his — he thought about getting up, but he was teetering right on the edge of full-blown panic attack, and somehow he couldn’t bring himself to do anything.

“C’mon, buddy,” Rockie hiccuped lightly. “…I gotcha.”

Bentley didn’t fight when Rockie grabbed his arms and helped lift him off the bathroom floor. “It’s okay; we’re not in there anymore,” (Though it wasn’t as reassuring as it could’ve been, given Rockie was still crying, too — but he was managing to calm himself down much quicker than Bentley was.)

Bentley didn’t say anything, he just sort of stood there and let Rockie rub his arms because it felt like literally anything else would send him directly into an anxiety attack. (He had to physically fight the urge to lurch forward and hug him and have a breakdown, but that was okay.)

“I’m gonna go check on Bellamy. Do you want to come?”

Bentley nodded jerkily, and Rockie spent another second rubbing his arms before he turned and made his way out of the bathroom and toward the bedroom door.

Bentley followed along numbly. He had a throbbing headache forming at the front of his skull, and his head already kinda felt all fuzzy and staticky — like being on a foggy road and only being able to see a few yards in front of the car. He did not miss that feeling.

He blindly followed Rockie out into the living area, where strangely, no one was. Varian wasn’t in there anymore, and his bedroom door was open, indicating that Koa, too, was gone.

Rockie wasted no time going straight to Bellamy’s door and swinging it open. They went in, and it took a second for Bentley to focus enough on the room to realize something was… wrong.

Bellamy wasn’t in there.

Bentley managed to grab ahold of at least a little clarity as he glanced around the room. The bed was empty, the bathroom was open with no humans inside, the desk chair was pushed in with no one in sight, and Bentley felt that panic attack threat come roaring back twice as hard as it had earlier.

“Where did he go?” Rockie questioned softly, glancing around the vacant bedroom.

Bentley suddenly couldn’t breathe very good again. He started to hear things like the water in the pipes, and Rockie’s heartbeat, and his own blood moving in his veins, and-

Another heartbeat, twice as fast, pounding so loud it drowned out the rest of the noise, blood forcing itself through veins with a panicked violence. And then the feeling of something else closely associated with it came, moving faster and more freely— tears. 

Bentley let his eyes drift around the bedroom, to the bathroom shower curtain, under the bed, the top bunk, the wardrobe-

It was coming from the wardrobe.

He could breathe easy again.

Bentley, for a moment, just looked at the piece of furniture. It was the exact same one that he and Asten had in their room, a deep wood with a pair of big doors.

“What do you hear?” Rockie questioned, and Bentley glanced over at him, blinking.

“He’s in the wardrobe,” Bentley replied, moving toward the big wooden mass. “I can feel his blood.”

Rockie didn’t say anything. Bentley lifted his hands to the small round handles on the wardrobe, but stopped short and knocked on the front of the door instead. “Bellamy? It’s Bentley.”

There was a moment where nothing happened. 

And then the left wardrobe door creaked open the tiniest bit, and Bentley saw one of Bellamy’s brown eyes peek out to look at him. (Hopefully he didn’t look too terrible, but he was still crying real good, so the odds of that were pretty low.)

Bellamy just looked at him for a solid ten seconds, before the door swung open and he came stumbling out, immediately synching his arms around Bentley’s torso for dear life.

“It’s okay,” Bentley muttered, but it probably didn’t sound too reassuring, given the crying he’d been trying to stifle was coming back harder now that Bellamy was sobbing into his shirt. “I saw her, too. But she’s not really here.”

Yet.

Bellamy didn’t say anything, he just held onto Bentley’s shirt like he was on the verge of death.

Charlie Reins was alive.

The Secret Keeper was alive. 

Which meant something even scarier than her looming presence in Bentleys mind. It either meant that she had immortality, or that…

Or that…

Bruce had lied to him.

--

tag list that never works lmao

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy

[prettyboykatsuki]

after hours | jing yuan.

✮ tags ; this reads fucked up but everything is consensual !!, petplay but its fucked up, muzzles / leashes, masc + afab!reader petnames (mutt, stupid pretty boy), reader is described vaugely as scarred / muscular but it's part of their job, vibrators, humiliation / mild degradation (he is a bit demeaning) assassin/special forces reader, general jing yuan, imbalanced power dynamics, they are LOVERS.

✮ wc ; 2.1k (sorry)

✮ a/n ; i am still on writing hiatus i promise i just. i promise i am. i think this is the most psychologically revealing thing ive written since april.

✮ synopsis ; general jing yuan likes his pets well trained.

General Jing Yuan has few rules for his sub-ordinates, but he is only especially strict on one.

If, by chance, there is reason for them to be boarded in the same quarters - do not disturb him after hours.

Jing Yuan is a wise man, and a good leader. He leads with care. He does not focus too heavily on the strictness of military - though he thinks it's a good thing for young men to have that sort of structure. Especially if they are without cause. Like love or family.

Men without reason or purpose go on to cause havoc across the known world. It is whims of evil, lacking true virtue that Jing Yuan finds most intolerable to deal with. Even so, while structure and order is necessary to wield power, he is not especially keen on enforcing it too greatly.

A soldiers life is dictated by his willingness to live despite the odds, if only to fight to the end. To end up under his leadership thus, is proof enough of their trustworthiness.

When the one rule he is strict on is broken - he can only assume the state of emergency.

He looks at you, chained and muzzled, near growling. Noisy thing you are. He wraps the chain around your neck with a deep, cumbersome sigh. Pulling you up to him, he whispers against your cheek with a huff of mild annoyance.

"Wait here, boy."

He slides the door behind him and opens another one. A young cloud-knight, bright-eyed and fearsome - bows his head in respect. His commanding officers must've sent him to teach him a lesson.

"General Jing Yuan," Jing Yuan is impressed he hasn't stuttered.

"At ease. I suspect there's been some emergency since you've come to my chambers at the hours I strictly forbid," He says, arms crossed over bare chest.

"Yes, General. Th-there's been an issue with the interference mission. We c-can't get in touch with the commander of the operation and the signal has been cut completely."

Jing Yuan rubs his chin with thumb and forefinger.

"If they've been infiltrated, it's on our best action to wait. Focus on re-establishing the signal by any means. If more than 48 hours pass, we'll send reinforcements then."

"Yes, General. Order received."

Jing Yuan nods, waving a hand.

"'Be on your way. And do not disturb me again until morning."

The solider returns on his wave, and Jing Yuan shuts the door with another sigh before returning to his bedroom.

Truly, he doesn't like being disturbed at times like this. Enacting justice and punishment is a task that requires attention.

He is, most pleased by the sight in front him. You're bent over on his floor, waiting impatiently. The heavy chain of a leash coiled around your throat, face pushed into the soft fabrics laid out underneath you - an act of forgiveness. What kind of Master would he be to lay you out on the marble? On your knees and elbows, a pillow under you and something pushed soft against your clit.

Jing Yuan returns to the seat he had placed in front of you. It's hard these days, for him to find this kind of excitement.

Yes, it is most pleasing to see you like this. A dog, an animal of war - chained up at his feet with a nasty anger tucked between your maw. You are fine to look at. Scars and muscle, fingers bruised from being broken over and over.

You never quite learn how to behave yourself. A man without reason, a being with so much pride it overflows. He reaches his hand to your hair and gathers it, enough to tug you up.

He grins at the sight. Tear-stained and so wounded with desire you can't stand to your feet, a pathetic quality to you that makes Jing Yuan want to dote on you. You glare at him and the gesture does little to soften his want.

Jing Yuan is thankful at times, that his relationship to you is unofficial. That you are his mercenary, his spear - and not his subordinate. He has no desire to treat you fairly.

"I haven't been gone long," He muses, hand tightening if only to see you flinch "And I see you in this state. What happened to your fortitude?"

With this, Jing Yuan joins you on the ground. He sits with his legs cross and maneuvers you, swift as he positions you over his lap. You are naked and drooling and so angry, so tied up in your emotion that you can only glare.

Jing Yuan's desire to treat you affectionately, it born from a greater desire to discipline.

To an untrained eye, it may not be easy to recognize. But you, who always carries death and always tastes of iron, must be disciplined in ways that are unordinary. Jing Yuan must show you shame. Dominance through the plagues of embarrassment.

If Jing Yuan were a fool, he would fight you. You are a formidable opponent even for him.

But he is the wise, and knowing. This is an eaiser way to get you to act in accordance to his wishes.

"What's become of you?" He teases and you gasp. He taps the machine attached to your clit, making you collapse over his shoulder "This much sensation and you're drooling."

You are younger than Jing Yuan. Most people are. Still, he cannot treat you to accordance of this fact - not when you whine through your throat. The anger is dissipating slowly in you. You show relief when he turns it off, tossing the little bullet to one side.

He replaces it with his hands - his fingers rub softly. Your nerves are overstimulated, nails digging into his shoulder. You stare at him hard, iron of the muzzle gone hot as you push against his mouth. You want to bite, of course you do. But you can't.

"If you behaved better I would've let you do as you please," He hums, middle finger rubbing through your folds - so wet it drips. Calm, loving - but disciplinary all the same. You are so aroused it is almost shameful "Let you stake your claim on your general as you pleased. As your superior, it is my job to reward you."

"Yet you've killed our important informant, and it is also my job to punish you accordingly," He says, amused. He isn't as careful as he should be, sticks his fingers far into your cunt. It welcomes him so readily. He grins to himself, just a little "And so this too, is for your own good."

You shake above him, still angry. Less so. Jing Yuan gives you a look.

"Do you understand me?"

"Am I permitted to speak, you bastard?" You spit, though the words don't carry the same weight when they are spoken breathlessly.

"You've done well not to thus far," He says, easier this time - curling his fingers and pushing against the squishy, spongy part inside of you that leaves you trembling under his touch "I've asked you a question."

"And why should I have to answer to that?"

"Because, sword of mine," He says, thrusting his fingers hard enough that you bend. The pleasure washes over you, and you're so unlike yourself you nearly break. "I'm more than willing to leave you in this sorry state."

You give him a challenging look, an angry you wouldn't dare. Jing Yuan returns it with one of amusement, a lazy smile as if to answer are you willing to take the risk?

The truth, unbeknownst to you, is merely that he wouldn't. He would have to restrain himself in order to punish you thoroughly. You are a follower of instinct and sensation, so Jing Yuan can foresee your answer.

"I understand, you annoying prick."

Jing Yuan stares at you. You freeze then grit your teeth.

"I understand, General."

"Your hands are free," Jing Yuan whispers as he leaves you, caressing your cheek with his thumb, over a raised white scar "Use them."

Jing Yuan watches with utter delight as you undo his robe. How your hands come up to undo the comfortable confines. To tug at his boxers and free his cock. How your hands - hands that have committed violence so unspeakable, tremble like a flower in the breeze trying to touch him. You wrap your palm around his shaft unsteadily. Jing Yuan puts his hand ontop of yours. Intimate, full to the brim with excitement.

"Are you just going to touch it?"

You flush up to your ears. Jing Yuan leans close.

"A mutt like you should know very well how to sit,"

You glare but it urges you forward. Jing Yuan watches, half lust and half amusement as you lean forward slightly and line himself up with your entrance. You hiss as Jing Yuan feels the head of his cock push through and forward. Hot and warm, so slippery it feels like you're trying to push him out. He grabs you by the hip and slams you down hard, bottoming out.

You curse under your breath but it's not much more than noise to Jing Yuan. Jing Yuan wants to be unfair to you, so he holds you up and fucks you without mercy. There's only a brief pause, where he pulls out only to push all the way back in.

He keeps you in place just like that, and watches your expressions change over and over again. From irritated, to wanting, to almost lecherous with desire. A sense of adrenaline that leaves Jing Yuan's whole body feeling so alive, electricity running through his nerves. He loves seeing you like this - seeing his hardened right-hand turn into a stupid, drooling pretty boy. It elates him to see you like that, see your pussy fucked all the way open on his cock.

It makes him visceral and cruel, makes him want to fuck you so hard his thighs imprint on your ass.

So he fucks you, hard and fast - cock splitting you open and touching you so deep you can't even fix your mouth to bit him. There's drool coming through the metal grates, dripping on his chest and your eyes look like they're practically rolled back.

"Such a bad temper," Jing Yuan hisses, teeth sticking into your neck "Yet you get so wet," Thrust "And so pliable," Thrust "Like you're begging for me to be inside."

"Fuck," You curse, and you hold your breath "F-fuck, touch me, I'm gonna,"

Jing Yuan decides to heed your request, putting his hand between your bodies - rubbing your clit fast and hard. It's almost instant, the effect it has on you, how quickly you start to shake above him. He can feel your walls tighten around him, silken and slick. Begging for him, aren't you? Just begging to be fucked so full so you can let yourself go.

Of course Jing Yuan intends to give you just that. With ease and lust so bone deep, he lays you flat on your back before bringing his hands under your knees. He presses his full weight unto you.

"You're—oh, why're you—you're so deep."

"Yes, that's it," He says, and he can't keep himself together like he would like "This is will help won't it. Be a good mutt, and heel. Take it all,"

It doesn't take much more for Jing Yuan to push you over the edge. You're a sight for sore eyes like that, broken and fucking yourself back onto him. It's magnificent. Jing Yuan could never, ever get tired of looking at you fall apart so wholly. The praise falls out of his lips smoothly as you pulse around him over and over and over.

"That's it. This is what you needed isn't it?"

You spasm, squeeze so hard on Jing Yuans cock he can't help but bottom out. He cums like that, deep inside and fucks you through it. It leaves a mess of white in a ring around him when he does manage to pull himself out.

He rests his cock through puffy folds as he reaches around the back of your head - undoing the muzzle and letting you free. He rubs carefully at the indented skin before kissing you gingerly.

You blink at him through your lashes, running your fingers through soft grey hairs. Your voice is hoarse.

"You're a bastard, General."

"You seem upset, my dear."

"Don't call me that right now," You rasp, throat thick. You kiss him again anyways, and Jing Yuan laughs.

"Learn to control yourself," Jing Yuan reprimands, pushing his lips against your jaw "And I won't have any reason to upset you."

"I'm not promising you anything."

"Then stay by my side," Jing Yuan offers instead "I'll continue to punish you accordingly."

[itsohh]

Second Attempt

A/N: Female reader, ah my beloved.

Summary:  Simon finally finds that perfect chance to ask that big question again, this time on his own terms. Despite Gaz and Soap's attempts to try 'help'.

Word count:  2395  

Warnings: none

AO3 Masterlist Series Masterlist

"Still thinking about how you're going to ask her?" Ghost eyes flashed to Soap's grin as the pair of them leaned on the side wall. Their eyes were on you, bent over the pool table in front of them while Gaz stood next to you partially leaning on his cue. The dim lights above you shadowed your face perfectly, putting that determined expression on display.

"Keen eye as ever Soap." There was a clink as you hit the white ball, forcing it to sink a ball in much to your deadlight. Simon's eyes were focused on the way your lips curled and your eyes scrunched up in glee. Next to you, Gaz patted your shoulder, a compliment on his lips. Your eyes flashed towards Simon's way, giving the man a wink before you strut over to him, confidence oozing off you.

"You two got to up pick up your game." You hit the side of Soap's shoulder and the telltale sound of the pool balls colliding clinked behind you.

"I think we are fine if you teamed up with Gaz." Simon nodded towards the tables. Whipping around you saw the half-shrug Gaz did.

"Hard luck Kyle, head up dude. Want another drink?" Gaz shook his head and you turned to Soap and Ghost. "Drinks?"

"Yeah, I'll have another one thanks."

"Gin?" Your laugh was almost contagious as you walked backward, amused at Soap's disturbed face. "LT?" Ghost lift the half-full drink next to him in silent communication. You nodded and turned away, disappearing towards the bar.

"So, what are you going to do? Exspensive restaurant? Concert? Or just going to settle for your deathbed again? Next time you're getting Gaz to do it."

"Don't quit your day job to become a comedian." Ghost let out a small sound under his throat.

"Rough crowd." Johnny took a few steps towards the pool table, drapping his body over it as he lined up his cue. Eye focused on the balls there was a solid clink as the cue hit the white ball, sending it into the two balls. He swore under his breath as the ball tethered on the very edge but didn't sink into the side.

"If you wait too long she might think you don't want to marry her." He picked himself off the table and turned to face the man. Ghost's brows narrowed at the man. "If you want help I'm happy to wingman for you. I'm sure Gaz and Price will too if need be." John spun around the Gaz who had been patiently waiting for your return. "Isn't that right Gaz?"

Gaz's head snapped up at the sound of his name and his eyes darted between the two men. "What am I about to agree to?"

"Helping LT here with proposing." Gaz's brows shot up in surprise but didn't miss a beat.

"I'd be happy to help."

"There's nothing to help with. The offer is appreciated Gaz…" Ghost's jaw locked as he spoke, a look at Kyle before his eyes snapped to John's. "...John. I have things under control." His voice was more pictures after he said John's name. A threat behind his voice as he dared Soap to continue. Yet his threats did little, the Sergeant was rather used to his antics.

"Hey, no worries. Think we are waiting to see you put a ring on her. She is too, you know."

"Soaps right." Kyle piped up, leaning on the table. "She's always stealing looks at you."

"More than usual." Soap partnered up with Gaz in the conversation.

"She's not subtle. I already know." Ghost's eyes snapped to the two men and they glanced at each other. "Right if the two of you would leave it alone she's almost back." He leaned forward and the two men locked their lips shut.

Just as Ghost said, a moment later you appeared from the crowd, drinks in hand. "One good drink for me…" You twirled the straw inside your drink taking a sip from it before you placed it next to Ghosts.

"And one shitty drink for Soap." You handed the other glass to him, to his offence.

"Shitt drink? Compared to what you're drinking?! What's that? A tequila sunrise?"

"I like my drinks drinkable John."

"I don't believe you-"

"You don't even know what I'm drinking how you even-"

"I can just tell by the look-" Your bickering was interrupted by Ghost who picked up your drink and started to drink from the straw. The pair of you both went silent and watch him, shocked.

Seconds ticked by and he put the drink back down. You leaned in, not only you and Soap but Gaz too.

"Tastes fine."

"In your stupid face." You immediately jabbed a finger into John's chest and he snatched the drink from the table. Before you could protest he brought the straw to his lips and started to suck. Almost immediately he put it down and darted his eyes between the two of you.

"This is just orange and pomegranate juice." He accused.

"Yeah so? It tastes good." You snatched the drink from his hands and started to put the straw to your mouth when you saw Gaz's eyes on the drink. A sigh left your mouth and you held it out to him. "Would you like to try Gaz-" Before you could finish saying his name he took hold of it and quickly sipped on the drink.

"That's pretty refreshing actually."

-

"See you, boys, tomorrow, try not to stay up too late." You waved with a smile at Gaz and Soap who split from you and Ghost.

"Yes, mum." John winked with a mock salute and you rolled your eyes at him.

"Gnight Doc, Ghost." Gaz waved goodbye and soon it was just the pair of you. The pair of you started to walk together, the bright night sky guiding your way.

A shiver ran over your bare shoulders and you fought back the urge to shake. Your movements didn't go unnoticed though, silently Ghost removed his hoodie and wrapped it around your shoulders.

"Thanks."

"Bring a coat next time." Despite his slightly annoyed statement, you could have sworn you heard the smile in his voice.

"But if I bring a coat then I don't get to have your hoodie. Feels like home." You grinned, your head pushed against his shoulder with a big grin.

"You can just take one of my hoodies from my room.”

“Yeah but this one’s nice and warm now.” Your voice came out as a whine, one that Simon rolled his eyes in false annoyance.

“And that one would have warmed up too if you spent the entire night wearing it.”

"Too late now, no point in thinking what ifs. We can only look forward to the future."

"You can learn for the future. If you're not going to learn, then you can return it." He huffed much to your amused state.

"Ahhh I could orrrrr…" Your voice trailed off before you suddenly broke out into a sprint, pushing off him. A mad dash into the night which at first Ghost rolled his eyes to but decided to humour you either way.

In a half-jog, he followed. You were fast, incredibly faster. Yet, Ghost was always somehow faster. Right away you knew he allowed you to stay out of his range, that it was a game. One he was willing to play.

The game stepped up a notch when you came to the corner of a pair of buildings. Your legs carried you up the side of a gradually increasing fence to give you the height to jump on top of the industrial dumpsters. Next, you boosted yourself off one corner of the brick building before you climbed up the other side. Your fingers had done a good job at keeping your grip and soon you were up on top of the building. A small victory in Ghost's baggy jumper. Down on the ground, he tilted his head, his eyes darted on your path as he figured out how he wanted to approach your lead.

Squatting down at the top you couldn't help but poke out your tongue, a taunt came out with ease. "Come on big guy, let's see if your bite is as bad as your bark."

At your voice, his eyes snapped up to yours. A second later he moved. You couldn't help but watch in slight awe as he effortlessly sprinted up to the dumpster, large strides before he jumped up without the extra boost. To keep his momentum, he continued up the wall until finally, he climbed up over the edge of the building.

When he finally neared you did you snap into action and attempt to run away. The man wasn't having it of course. Simon's hand snaked around your waist which caused a squeal to escape your lips, one that turned into a bubbly giggle. He dragged you back slightly before he fell back onto the ground into a sit. A sit he pulled you into so that you sat on his lap while he leaned against an inactive aircon unit.

His grip never loosened, in fact, it only tightened as he secured you against his chest. Comfortable with you between his legs, Simon rest his head on your shoulder while you settled down. A second later, Simon used one of his hands to remove the half mask from his face. You managed to glimpse it when you looked down, it now sat on the ground next to your leg.

"It's nice here, you can see the stars." His deep voice was quiet in your ear, relaxed. A tone you didn't hear too often. Truly at peace.

"Remember when we were out in that forest?" Your voice softly asked. Despite being in the said situation many times before, Simon knew exactly what you were talking about.

"Yeah, could really see the stars then." He hummed, his nose against your neck before his lips soon graced your skin. A small kiss that had your heart skip a beat. One arm still wrapped tight around you, his free hand reached into his pocket for a moment before it tangled with your hand. A small object passed from him to you,  it had you pause and he let out a breath.

"Open it." A request. His hand left yours to sit on your thigh and you looked down. Slowly you opened the small box. The moonlight revived the contents, a ring. One that you had seen once before but this time the threat of his death wasn't just around the corner.

A simple band with engraving in the middle.

"Marry me." The words finally left his lips. He had finally found the right moment.

"Who loves wins." You read the engravement which had you pause. "Is that…" he smiled against your neck at your recognition of the edited motto.

"It is. Price, joked that when I first told him that our relationship was… a little more than professional."

"Ah, when you first told him you were fucking my brains out huh?" He chuckled against your neck at your crude paraphrasing.

"Rightly said. Can't deny, I certainly feel like I'm winning right now with you here."

"Aww Simon." You turned in his arms and he loosened his grip to allow you to face him. Your hands found his bare cheeks as you looked into his raccoon eyes. "Of course, I'll Marry you."  

His lips curled up for a moment before they descended against yours. The faintest of flavours from his drink still lingered and you couldn't help but smile at him. Simon's arms settled around you, pulled flush against his chest you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"What took you so long?" You managed to get out between breaths, between kisses.

"To ask again?"

"Soap asked the first time for you, that didn't count."

"Had to find the right moment." He gave in.

"And this is it? No fancy restaurant? No massive surprise in front of a crowd?"

"You wouldn't want a fancy restaurant. You wouldn't want a crowd. " His lips pressed against yours and you couldn't help the bubbly feeling that had consumed your chest, your very core. An undeniable excitement filled with love and adoration for the man.

"This is the right moment, a smile on your face, just us. In our line of work that doesn't happen too often." That way he looked at you, it was like you were the very soul of the Earth. The last beautiful thing left. "I saw that smug look on your face and thought how could I not marry that?"

Your head tilted back in a large laugh that exposed your neck to him. "You're the worst." Your left hand let go of his neck to lightly hit his chest in play fight.

"Put it on." He chuckled, a grin settled on his face.

You blinked as you looked down, the box still open in your hand. Mounted on his lap, you fully let go of him to pick the ring up. Filled with adrenaline, you could stop the way your hand started to shake as you held the ring out to put it on. Simon stopped though, he pulled the gloves from his hands and took the ring out of yours. One hand cupped yours to hold it steady, his thumb gently stroking over your knuckles while the other slowly slid the ring onto your finger.

It fit perfectly, not too tight, not too loose. Just right. "You know my ring size? I don't even know my ring size."

"I hold these hands enough to know the size of your fingers."

"Simon…" A dopey expression spread across your face and you practically flung yourself against him, peppering kisses all over his face. "People think you're a big scary Ghost but your just my big teddy bear aren't you?"

Simon attempted to talk but couldn't due to the laugh that bubbled in his chest as you continued your assault all over his face. He suddenly turned the pair of you to the side and fell back against the concrete roofing. With his arms around you, he settled you to the side in a position that the pair of you often woke up to. Tomorrow would bring another storm, but for the moment, you could enjoy each other's company.

[thesixenthusiast]

ruby – eddie roundtree

part one (part two, part three, part four)

pairing: eddie rountree x fem!oc (may change to x reader) warnings: drinking/drugs (billy/daisy's addictions) word count: 1.6k author's note: please bear with me in this, if there's a few time mix ups just with the order of things, please do let me know but i'm trying to find an equal balance between the book and show and it's a little difficult lol

On October 4, 1977, Daisy Jones & The Six performed to a sold out crowd at Soldier Field in Chicago, Illinois. They were one of the biggest bands in the world at the time, fresh off their award-winning, multi-platinum selling album “Aurora.” It would be their final performance. 

In the 20 years since, members of the band and their inner circle have refused to speak on the record about what happened… Until now.

–

THE RISE OF THE SIX (1966-1972)

The Six started out as a blues-rock band called the Dunne Brothers in the mid-sixties out of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Billy and Graham Dunne were raised by single mother, Marlene Dunne, after their father, William Dunne Sr., left in 1954.

BILLY DUNNE (lead singer, The Six): I always dreamed of something different than the typical laid out career paths. When Graham first got the idea to start a band, I assumed it was just to win back his girlfriend. He was, what fourteen? The kid thought his life was over. [Laughs] I guess in retrospect, maybe it was a good idea. 

WARREN ROJAS (drummer, The Six): He was definitely trying to get his girlfriend back.

GRAHAM DUNNE (lead guitar, The Six): We were solid, fine for a while. When Chuck quit, we were out a bassist, which isn’t really something you can do without in a band. Billy originally wanted Eddie to switch to bass, but he wasn’t too keen on that. 

EDDIE ROUNDTREE (rhythmic guitar, The Six): I was so sick of Billy trying to run the band, it wasn’t his band, or at least, it wasn’t supposed to be. 

WARREN ROJAS: There was this girl in my math class, her uncle owned a music store downtown, and she used to give lessons to kids on weekends, it was mostly just some scheme by her uncle to get people to buy guitars. 

BILLY DUNNE: She was a sophomore, a young sophomore at that, she wasn’t even 16 by the time she joined, I was a year out of high school and the rest of the boys are creeping on 17 and 18, she just didn’t fit. Warren gets all the boys on board before bringing the idea up to me so I look like the asshole if I say no, I wanted to say no too, but she was good and I didn’t have another option. 

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: She didn’t even show an interest in being in the band, she wasn’t begging us to give her a chance, we were near-stalking her at the music store, waiting for the perfect opportunity to hear her play and casually bring up that we happened to need a bassist.

JULIET OPAL (bassist/singer, The Six): They weren’t nearly as sly as they thought they were. I originally thought it was some attempt at stealing records or 8-tracks, y’know waiting until I wasn’t looking, but they kept coming back, seemingly just waiting for me to do something, what it was I didn’t know, but something. 

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: [Sighs] They decided I would be the one to talk to her. 

The shop’s bell rang, signaling the door had been opened, which swung Juliet’s attention away from the magazine she was skimming and up to the front of the store, peering through the aisles to see who entered. A boy, one she recognized from the creeping on her from the previous weeks, made himself visible and she was immediately on high alert. He approached the counter, swallowing nerves as he did, and cleared his throat. 

“Hi,” his voice was hoarse, she took the awkward silence as a moment to study him, he wore a striped shirt, loose jeans, and brown shoes, his hair could use a comb through. He extended his hand, “I’m Eddie, I think we go to school together.”

“Juliet,” she met his hand, “is that why you’re here, to tell me that we might go to school together? Or is there an ulterior motive, one that may explain why you and your friends have been spying on me the past week,” any speck of confidence Eddie had going into this was entirely gone. 

“I’m in a band with some friends and our bassist bailed on us pretty recently. My friend, Warren, he’s a junior like me, I think he’s in your math class, said he saw you play bass and that you were good. We just wanted to see you play before we formally asked.”

“Formally asked what?” She leaned up from her elbows that she had been propped on.

“Oh, to, uh, like,” he stopped himself, licking his lips and sighing, “would you want to maybe play bass for us?” His eyes instantly went to his shoes and he stuffed his hands inside his pockets. 

“Can I have a little more info maybe? It’s not personal, I just don’t know you, like at all and you could be the worst players for all I know.”

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: That one hurt, something about a younger kid who you have a solid five inches on insinuating that she’s better than you are, especially when you’re practically on your knees begging for her to help you out can feel like salt being rubbed into a fresh wound. 

JULIET OPAL: What else was I supposed to do? [Laughs] Just blindly follow the older boy who had been spying on me for a week to the alleged garage that he practices in with his alleged band and hope for the best? I paid attention in the stranger-danger assemblies, I knew better. 

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: I invited her back to Billy and Graham’s but she said she had to close up for her uncle. Once we were out in L.A. she told me she actually just didn’t wanna leave with me and in hindsight, I can’t say I blame her.

The following morning Juliet and the Dunne Brothers skipped their first period and met in the Dunne’s garage. Juliet studied the wads of scribbled sheet music Billy had handed to her without looking her in the eye and she didn’t miss the way Eddie rolled his eyes at his hostility, and Eddie didn’t miss the way her upper lip curled into a smile as she saw his reaction. 

After rifling through the stack of papers, she picked out one at random, and set it down on the table in front of her, leaning over to scan in a few times before pulling the strap of her guitar over her head. She looked over to the group of boys, standing huddled together with Billy noticeably further away and Warren nodded fervently at her with a grin overtaking her face. 

After she played through the song, Billy made her play another, and another, and two more after that ‘for safety.’ Once he had run out of excuses for her to keep playing, he asked her to step out of the garage so they could confer with each other. After seven minutes and two overheard “c’mon man”s from Warren, Juliet was invited back into the garage and to serve as a temporary bass for the band, just until Billy could come to his final decision. 

JULIET OPAL: He was stubborn even then, I’m honestly surprised he let me in.

BILLY DUNNE: I didn’t want to let her in the band. 

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: I wanted her in the band, I made sure Billy knew that.

JULIET OPAL: A week after I joined, we were playing a gig with​​ the Winters. 

The group stood backstage, listening to the music that was permeating into every corner of the room. Juliet stood sandwiched between Warren and Camila, listening to the band. They had a keyboardist, she caught Juliet’s eye once they had got backstage, when they finished playing and she got offstage, Juliet made a beeline for her, introducing herself. 

“I’m Karen,” she introduced herself, “you play with these guys?”

“Mhm, I’m on bass right now, but in an ideal world I’d steal Eddie over there’s job,” she pointed to him and he smiled back, nodding his head up at her, unknowingly, “I won’t though, kinda like him, at least more than I do Billy,” Karen nodded, opening her mouth to excuse herself from the conversation, “y’know I’ve been saying we need a keyboardist.”

“Have you now?” That piqued her interest she stopped in her tracks and smirked over her shoulder. 

“No,” she admitted, “but I’ve been thinking it.” Billy hollered her name, gesturing her over to the group, who were making their way onstage. She pulled a receipt with a phone number scribbled across it in black ink and handed it to Karen, “If you ever get sick of them, give me a call, I’ll put in a good word for you.”

“Do you always carry around drug store receipts with your phone number on them?”

“You never know who you might meet,” she shrugged and started sprinting towards the stage before calling out over her shoulder, “worked out this time. Wish me luck!”

KAREN SIRKO (keyboardist, The Six): She was so.. vivacious, so full of life. She apoke about a million miles a minute, if I wasn’t fully interested in what she was saying, I don’t think I would’ve caught a word of it. You have this young girl talking your ear off, she seems entirely sure of herself, but also still feels a need to prove to you that she deserves to be there.

JULIET OPAL: I liked Karen, how could I not? And based on the way events would play out, clearly I wasn’t the only one. 

WARREN ROJAS: It was a great gig, Julie did great, not that we weren’t expecting her to, we were just worried about her, she had never done anything in front of a crowd before, but she did everything that actually counted right. 

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: On the drive home she sat next to me and she told me I played well, then she leaned in and kinda whispered and she thanked me. She thanked me for being the one to ask her to join because she would’ve said no to anyone else. [Smiles]

[somuchbetterthanthat]

Happy Birthday Fav! Here's a little somewhere else!JE for you <3

Jon is safe.

He knows he’s safe. Underneath his bare feet the carpet is soft and warm, and no matter where he looks, all he sees is painfully, achingly familiar — it’s home, his home, the home he’s so keen on building. On the couch Olivia has opened a lazy, curious eye, waiting to see what he might do, if she ought to follow him to the kitchen if he walked all the way there despite the fact it’s four in the morning, but she’s quiet as ever, and all Jon can truly hear is his own erratic breath, harsh against his ear. 

He is safe. 

He knows it, but his body doesn’t. He’s sweating, trembling, heart beating wild and furious against his chest and all his legs want to do is run. Run as far away as he can from his own flat, collapse somewhere where he can be unseen and unknown from anyone who has ever met him and be, if not happy, at least —safe. 

He wishes the nightmares would stop. Without them it would be easier to go back to bed, to go back to sleep, to wake up tomorrow morning refreshed and ready to live his life. But the knowledge they carry is heavy at the back of his head; it comes not only with fear —that much he could dismiss, with time— but with guilt that chokes him awake in the middle of the night, that robs him of the fragile peace he tries to keep during the day, and that poisons his very blood and bones with pain that lingers long, long after the nightmares are gone.

Penance, he thinks, sometimes. But he doesn’t know for whom, exactly.

“Jon,” murmurs his husband, behind him.

“I can’t—” look, sleep, speak, bear it… Jon doesn’t need to finish the sentence. Jon never needs to finish his sentences for Elias to understand him. It usually thrills him, on the good days. 

Elias wraps his arms around him and presses a long kiss on top of his head. Jon lets out a new, anxious, shuddering breath, and closes his eyes, leaning back against him. Elias’ skin is cooler than his, his stance firm and solid as ever, and he grabs Jon’s hands, intertwines their fingers together, and pulls them up until they’re resting at the centre of Jon’s belly. Elias doesn’t need to say much either for Jon to get what he’s doing. Jon lets his head fall back against Elias’ chin, and Elias starts to rock them both, left, right, right, left, a gentle movement to force Jon’s body back in their reality, in this world, their world, their home. 

“You’re safe,” he says against his ear. “We’re both safe and happy.”

“We’re safe,” Jon repeats. 

“They’re just nightmares,” Elias continues. “This is not us. This is not you.”

“This is not you,” Jon whispers.

Elias’ fingers tense around his for a brief second before his thumb starts to rub Jon’s, soothing like always. “I love you,” he tells him. “You’re all I ever wanted and now that I have you, there is nothing else I lack in the world.”

“Nothing else?” Jon asks, throat tight.

“Nothing else but you.” Elias’ nose is buried into Jon’s hair, now, his voice is muffled, but it’s slipping through the cracks of Jon’s paranoia, digging right where it needs to. Jon’s desperate desire for their happiness, for this to be true true true — “Only you. I love you. You are safe, my love. We’re home. You’re safe.”

And now Jon can feel himself start to believe it. It rings at the base of his skull, surer than any of his childish terrors, and he knows that if he turns around and tries to disappear into Elias Elias will welcome the embrace, will do as much as he can to grant Jon’s wish. Elias is his rock, his certainty, his anchor back to here, to know. 

“I don’t want to go back to sleep,” Jon says, after another minute of silent rocking.

“I’ll draw us a bath,” Elias answers. “We’ll wait for dawn together.”

Jon’s heart leaps; his racing mind is slowing; what would he do, without his husband? Where would he be, terrified and in so much pain, burdened with constant guilt? What would he do, without the truth of how much he is loved?

Jon is fine. 

Jon is happy. Jon is safe.

[bucks-daddy-issues]

🫴 🫴 🫴 🫴

Hello! I got six anon asks for all of my wips and I'm gonna hope/assume they're all from you and put them all in one post.

Hope you enjoy, thank you!!!

😳 Down Bad Eddie (NSFW)

-

Buck is so keen, he’s smiling so big but there isn’t a trace of mocking in his tone. He’s happy, and he’s playful and he’s more radiant than the fucking sun. Eddie almost feels like he shouldn’t be looking directly at him, so beautiful he’ll make Eddie go blind.

Eddie feels dizzy, his chest is a little tight and he’s not sure if it’s for good or bad reasons. Buck is so pretty, so warm and Eddie's breath is-

“Can we- pause for a minute?” Eddie grits out, and immediately Buck steps back, hands dragging up slow until they’re on Eddie’s shoulders instead of his waist. 

“Of course, of course Eddie. You okay?” Buck says, eyes searching, as blue as the ocean in holiday brochures.

“I’m amazing, I just… this is a little overwhelming.”

“Overwhelming… good?” Buck asks, God he’s so earnest Eddie wants to shove him into a wall and bite. 

“Very, very good.” Eddie beams. “But this is a little new, could we…?”

“Slow down, yes, yeah, we should slow down. We got a lot to talk about.” Buck smiles back.

Then Buck is stepping away, moving to the kitchen to start up the coffee maker.

-

🔫 Hitman's Bodyguard AU

-

“I think we can-“ 

There’s a noise, Buck knows there must have been because his ears are ringing. There’s a noise. His face is wet. There’s blood in his mouth. Eddie is looking at him, reaching out but the whole world is encased in freezing cold, solid ice and Buck must need it to melt before he can move again. 

A red spot slowly blooms and grows on Eddie’s shoulder, red, red, red. Eddie’s hand is reaching, his eyes pleading. 

Buck can’t move. 

The moment Eddie drops to the ground Buck can move again, and he realises that that eternity watching the pain cloud out the life in Eddie’s eyes must have only been a second because he jumps for cover a moment before another bullet hits the wall he’d been leaning against. 

Eddie’s still out in the open, but whoever’s shooting doesn’t seem too concerned about finishing him off - thank god - whoever it is, they're going for Buck, they just needed Eddie out of the way. 

A bullet hits their car. Buck’s heart is beating in his skull. His throat feels like it's shut tight but somehow he’s still panting. 

Another bullet. This one nicks the gas tank, oil leaks out into the road.

Buck has seconds. One good shot and the car blows, one decent one and a fire will start. 

Behind them is a 30-foot drop into a roaring water. Buck has no idea how deep, but he knows jumping will mean either breaking his legs or going under. 

For the first time in his life, he’s praying he’ll feel water above his head. 

-

👻 Ghost hunter AU

-

“You want us to what?” Buck flinches.

“It’s just for one night Buck, it’ll be fine.” Hen says, and this time Eddie is the one who flinches, he already knows what Buck’s reaction will be.

“It’s just one night in a haunted building, Hen!” Buck yells, eyes wide in fear. “If you’re so sure no one will won’t get murdered or possessed or like- scared to death, then you do it!”

Hen smirks, “Sorry Buckaroo, I’m not the one with their face on all the merch, looks like it’s just you and Eddie braving the demons and ghosts.”

“There’s no demons!” Eddie steps in, glaring at Hen and Chimney’s smug grins. “The building has one single ghost sighting, one ghost, no demons, no poltergeists and no malicious spirits, just one friendly ghost.”

“You don’t even believe in ghosts.” Chimney remarks,

“One ghost that we know of, Eds.” Buck mumbles “What if there’s something else in there. Something hiding until it’s got us at our most vulnerable.

Buck makes himself shiver, Eddie scoots closer to drop a hand on his shoulder. “We’re going to scope it out first, we’ll try everything we have to catch any paranormal activity and if you don’t want to stay after that-” Eddie sends Bobby a look, there’s no question in it, but Bobby nods anyway, “-then we wont stay, okay?”

Buck leans further into Eddie’s space, his eyes are big and scared but keeps looking at Eddie anyway, seeking comfort. “Okay” he finally agrees. “But you’re sleeping closest to the door.”

-

💍 Romcom AU

-

Buck finds Eddie by the fountain, clicking through pictures on his camera. 

“You okay?” Buck asks, sitting down next to him.

Eddie flicks his head up in surprise, somehow he must have missed Buck’s arrival. “Oh yeah.” He mumbles, looking back at his camera. On it there’s a photo of Maddie, Chimney and Jee-Yun with big, cheesy grins, it looks amazing, one to be framed. Buck can’t wait to see all the rest. “Don't let me keep you from the party, I promise I’ll be back to take more photos soon, just needed a little break.”

“Of course, take your time. I’m gonna take a break too, if that’s okay.” Buck smiles, he glances down at the rippling water in the fountain. There are no coins in it, but Buck still wants to throw one in and make a wish.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asks, nudging Buck with his knee.

“I asked you first,” Buck replies, nudging back.

Eddie harrumphs but after a moment he drops his shoulders and speaks “I miss my wife. Or I guess I miss this.” He gestures to the happy photo on his camera screen. “Though I’m not sure we ever had all that, can you miss something you’ve never had?”

Buck stares for a minute, maybe a little too long. “Oh yeah. All the time.” 

“You too?” Eddie asks, his smile pained.

“Well I don’t have a wife to miss, but yes, I miss what Maddie and Chimney have. I’ve never told anyone and I feel awful about it, but I’m super jealous of them.”

“Me too. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it, just-“ Eddie puts the camera down, leaning forward to stare into the water. “It’s hard sometimes, to be stuck with just hope.”

Buck reaches into his pocket to grab his wallet. He finds a few coins in the bottom and hands one to Eddie. “I don’t think wishing is much better than hoping, but hey, maybe they accumulate.”

-

🥂 Hangover AU

-

“Coffee?” Bobby asks, holding out the menu. 

“Strong enough to chew please” Eddie groans, flattening his head on the cool metal of the poolside tables. It's way too warm. 

“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little,” Hen grimaces “Never say that again.” 

“Get her coffee too.” Chimney adds as Bobby gets the waiter's attention. 

“What’s the last thing anyone remembers?” Buck asks. 

“I left you guys after dinner, you were all pretty sober, maybe two or three drinks each,” Bobby says once he’s ordered Hen and Eddie espresso, Bucks stomach feels queasy at the thought of drinking that.

“Okay, I can remember dinner, then we went to that club Albert booked, it was named after some jewel, aquamarine or something?”

“The amethyst and it was a casino too.” Chimney supplies, sighing heavily. 

“I hate Vegas.” Eddie groans “We should check our bank accounts.”

“Oh, That’s a good idea! We can look at all the transactions from last night and see where we went!” Buck says just a little too loud for even his own ears, he gulps the water sitting in front of him, thank you, Bobby. 

“Right, empty your pockets too, we’re all still wearing our clothes from last night, right?” Chim adds, patting his blazer

Buck and Eddie reply in the affirmative, feeling grubby. 

“Hell no, the first thing I did was change my clothes” Hen grimaces. 

“You guys should really change,” Bobby adds, but he at least looks invested in helping, Buck can tell he’s in captain mode just by his facial expression.

“Well some of us weren’t given the chance” Eddie replies pointedly.

“Later!” Chim says “C’mon, does anyone have anything?” 

Buck searches through his pockets surveying the contents as they’re placed on the table, his phone - dead, a McDonald’s receipt, keys, wallet, Albert’s phone, a business card… 

Wait 

“Oh fuck!” Buck shouts, lifting the phone back up, “This is Al’s” 

Chimney snatches it from him “Why do you have my brother’s phone?”

“I don’t know!” 

“Why do you have a business card for a tattoo parlour a couple blocks from here?” Eddie asks, lifting the card. Buck glances at it, vaguely remembering talking to a tattoo artist as she- 

“Ah, that’s why my hip is sore.” 

-

🫴 Your Touch Is All I Need (NSFW)

-

The next day at work that tenseness comes back to haunt him. 

He should have found some time to jerk off quickly, he probably could have in the shower if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with his own failure and embarrassment, but he didn’t and now the entire 24-hour shift is going about as smooth as a hacksaw.

He’s on edge and Buck must be able to tell because he’s trailing behind Eddie like a lost puppy and it’s making Eddie feel even worse. He knows Buck thinks he did something wrong, and he’s so ashamed he’s hurting Buck, but he can’t seem to look the other man in the eye. He can barely handle when they’re on the way to a call and Buck’s thigh is pressed up hard against his own. It’s Buck’s way of giving him some silent reassurance, so he nudges back and tries to train his eyes away from where that line of heat is pressing up against him. Buck’s thick thighs have been in enough of his dreams without more fodder. 

When they arrive on the scene Eddie could laugh - he won’t because that would be so rude and completely misinterpreted - but when he finds out a woman has had an unfortunate sexual incident while using a toy, somehow kicking her boyfriend in the face and causing a broken nose, well, Eddie laughs internally about how maybe the universe does scream sometimes.

Hen is helping the woman, while Eddie is looking over the man, the bleeding is nearly stopped and he should be fine once he gets to hospital, but Eddie pays him as much attention as he can so he doesn’t have to think about the vibrator sitting on the floor near his knee. 

When they finally get them sorted, the man on his way to the hospital with his girlfriend holding his hand, the team huddle back into the fire engine, and Eddie is sure they’re all thinking the same thing.

“Well… She must have been having a good time” Chim says, and that’s all it takes for them all to burst into a fit of giggles.

“Come on guys, a little more professional” Bobby says, but he’s grinning too, his face bright pink.

“Hey, I’ve been there!” Buck laughs “I think I broke the poor guy's ribs but I like to think it was worth it.” Everyone laughs again.

Wait. What the fuck.

No one is batting an eye. Buck just admitted to using a toy on himself with another man, and no one is batting an eye. 

Did they all know? Was Eddie meant to know? How did he somehow miss this? Is…is Buck gay or bi or pan or something along those lines?

Has he been openly into men this whole time?

[iamthecomet]

Hey Com! I always feel awkward asking these so if it feels awkward for you or it’s uncomfortable pls don’t write!🖤🖤

But just a thought about Mountain and Dew cause I don’t see enough of them. Especially Dew taking the reins. But Mountains desperate. REAL desperate. And Dew is being mean and isn’t touching him, say it’s revenge for the time Mountain made him get on his hands and knees like a dog… even though he didn’t mind, but what does he do? He only allows Mounty to a pillow. That’s it:)

This has been sitting in my inbox for *checks calendar* nearly SIX months. I'm sorry it took literally half a year to get to this delicious prompt. I hope it's worth the wait <3 <3.

Dew's room is sweltering. The fire cranked up high to chase off the mid-winter chill. Despite his nakedness, Mountain is sweating. It's beading at his temples, collecting in the hollow of his throat. He isn't sure if he's overheated from Dew's ridiculous temperature choices--or because Dew refuses to let him cum. Mountain lost track of time almost as soon as Dew pulled the curtains, blocking out the bitter draft coming in from the snow-covered grounds. But he knows he's been here a while, an hour or more. Laying, spread out, on Dew's bed as Dew kneels between his thighs and refuses to touch him in any meaningful way. Dew ghosts his fingers over Mountain's hip bones, up the inside of his thighs. He traces his ribs, his sternum, his jaw. He gets close, almost brushing against Mountain's aching cock, his pebbled nipples. He even goes so far as to dip his fingers into Mountain's crack, to run his fingers over Mountain's taint, but doesn't go far enough in any direction to give Mountain even a breath of relief. Mountain would almost rather Dew didn't touch him at all. He knew he'd end up like this--he always does. He isn't like Dew or Swiss who try to pretend they never get desperate, that they can take any treatment and remain steady. Mountain knows how he gets, readily admits it. Knows that a few minutes under the glide of Dew's hands is enough to send him reeling. And while he is known for having far more patience than Dew as a general rule, this is a special circumstance. Dew's body is loose, at ease. He watches his own fingers trail over Mountain's body like he could do it forever. He dips his fingers into the sweat pooling between Mountain's collarbones and smears it down the center of his chest. "Dew," Mountain whispers, fingers twitching at his sides where Dew commanded him to keep them. Dew looks up at his face, brow furrowing almost like he forgot Mountain was here at all. And Mountain knows it's all a facade, but his body reacts like he doesn't. Like Dew really had been so obsessed with the body in front of him he forgot there was a real person attached to it. Mountain's cock twitches against his belly. He wishes he had control of it. That he could pretend that this treatment doesn't make him harder with each passing second. "Hmm?" Dew hums absently. "Yeah? What?"

Mountain doesn't know how to ask for what he wants. He knows as soon as he lets the words loose Dew will deny him. Knows that interrupting has just added even more time to his torture. He does it anyway. Wants it without understanding why. Wants Dew to drag this out until Mountain can't think about anything except Dew and all the ways he could be touched. He shudders beneath the drag of Dew's calloused fingers. Dew flattens his palm over Mountain's belly. Warm, solid. Mountain thinks he wants to touch Dew more than he wants Dew to really touch him. He'd like to wrap his fingers around the ruddy cock between Dew's legs. He'd like to give himself over to Dew's pleasure. Wants to take one of Dew's nipple rings between his teeth and make Dew keen. "Wanna touch you," Mountain finally decides. Easier than asking to be touched--which he knows won't happen. Hopes that maybe Dew's own needs are starting to burn away at his resolve. Dew holds his gaze, copper eyes ringed with icy blue rove over his face. They narrow, darken. Dew pulls his hand away from Mountain's stomach. He leans back on his heels and wraps that hand around his own cock. He squeezes the head, milks a bead of precum up to the tip, and swipes it off with his fingers. Mountain sags in relief, predicting Dew's next movement, expecting those fingers to be pushed in between his lips any second. Instead, Dew sucks them into his own mouth with a lewd groan. Mountain's stomach twists.

Dew pulls his spit-slick fingers from his mouth and repeats the process again before starting to stroke himself. Smearing spit and pre with every slow stroke. Dew reaches up and tweaks at his nipple ring, rolling the hardened bud through his fingers like he can read Mountain's mind and Mountain can't do anything except groan. He tightens his fingers in Dew's sheets, his hips twitch up. Stomach and balls aching as he starts to spiral, to give in to the desperate need to be touched, to cum, for anything. "You haven't earned it," Dew says, watching the way Mountain twitches, the way the muscles in his stomach jump. How he fights to keep his hands where he promised he would as he humps the air mindlessly. Mountain doesn't know what he hasn't earned, touching Dew or being touched. Both, he assumes. "What can I do?" he bites out, breathless. Dew picks up speed, stroking himself in earnest, twisting his hand over the sticky head of his cock with each pass.

Dew laughs then, low and cruel. "Nothing. You can have the same thing you gave me." Mountain racks his addled brain then sags when he remembers. Dew had begged to be collared, leashed, to be led around the Abbey and treated like an afterthought. When Dew had begged for something--anything--Mountain had kicked a throw pillow in his direction and told him if he wanted to get off that bad he'd make it work. Dew had humped himself nearly raw against it before Mountain had deigned to give him any relief. Mountain's brain catches up to what's happening just as Dew is at his side, reaching down to shove a pillow between Mountain's legs. Mountain closes his thigh around it on instinct, holding it in place. He ruts up against it and sobs at the friction. It's nowhere near enough. It's almost as bad as the ghost of Dew's touch. Barely there, too soft, too pliable to really get him anywhere. He fucks up against it again and again anyway, chasing the bare remnants of pleasure. Desperate for any touch, knowing it's not enough but taking it anyway. "What do you say?" Dew prompts. Reaching out with uncharacteristic gentleness to brush a sweaty lock of auburn hair out of Mountain's eye. "Thank you," Mountain whines, high-pitched and desperate enough that he would be embarrassed if he had the brainpower left to care. "Now," Dew says slinging a leg over Mountain to straddle his ribs. Shifting up until the wet head of his cock almost brushes Mountain's lips. "I'm going to paint that pretty face, and you're going to take it. And after that--maybe I'll think about giving you something better to hump."

Mountain grinds up against the pillow again, precum soaking into the fabric with each desperate thrust. He opens his mouth and displays his tongue before Dew even asks for it. Obedient to a fault. Dew huffs out a groan as he does. "Good boy."

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Bad Taste ||

Matt Murdock x female reader (& tiny bit of Frank Castle, this is part of what I'm calling my Strawberryverse series 😅🍓 check it out on my masterlist hoes!)

Tags/warnings: degradation so please turn around and do not read if you're not into that! Matt is a bit mean in this one, biting, mocking, p in v unprotected sex (wrap in RL!), aftercare.

Author's note: wonder what those other secrets could be huh? HUH?!

"...and you think you're going to catch up to me with my fifteen minute head start?"

"Darling, I know I'm going to catch you."

You smile nervously, the anticipation of the imminent chase already fizzling through your body and you know he can sense it.

"Sounds overly confident but, whatever." You shrug, pretending to come off as nonchalant, grabbing your jacket and keys and heading towards the door. "And make sure you're saying your 'mississippis' properly before you come after me…"

Matt just grins, flicking open the latch on the chest in a way that has you biting on your lip.

"Don't you worry about me, sweetheart. You better get going… "

You run out the door, starting the timer on your watch before you bolt down the stairs two at a time, knowing exactly where you were going and how you were going to get there without Matt picking up your trail too easily. Both Matt and Frank were keen to have you practice various skills with them just in case you ever had to run for some reason and got separated. They were adamant of course that it would never happen, and they'd always be there to take care of you but it didn't hurt to be prepared and besides, you enjoyed training with them more and more…

As soon as you get out of the apartment building, you circle the block and weave a figure eight around the next two to throw him off. Scent was the big giveaway. You always washed with the unscented soap anyway but little did he know that you had plotted with Frank to leave a change of clothes at a couple of pre agreed locations. You laughed to yourself as you ducked and dived through variously stinking smelling alleyways and fragrant restaurants to confuse and mask Matt's ability to track you down with the enhanced sense.

The fifteen minutes were over much quicker than you had thought as you reached the first bag drop, the duffel hidden behind the dumpster of a bar where you snuck inside to speedily change in the toilets. You took off your own clothes, stuffing them inside the bag and pulled on one of Frank's old t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants. You were trying your absolute best to stay cool and calm. The less stressed and excited you were, the harder it would be for him to pick up your trail, but you couldn't help the way your skin broke out in goosebumps as you stashed the bag back in its hiding place and took off down the street to the next point, always looking over your shoulder and glancing up at the rooftops as you went.

There was a light warm drizzle in the air, even better you thought smugly, it would dampen down your path more. After ten minutes of darting through crowds on main streets and then cutting through the park, you reached the site of the second bag. This one was bound to throw him off.

The view from the rooftop where you stopped for a quick breather was something spectacular, almost half the city laid out, small and twinkling before you. You shook your focus back, but it was too late.

"Matty," you gasp, as he silently slips his arms around you from behind. You hadn't even reached your final hiding place and he'd found you already.

You could feel almost every solid inch of him all in black, pressing against you. One arm slung around your waist and the other braced across your chest, his fingers splaying over your throat and jaw, holding you firm but not too tightly.

"Thought you'd be faster." You remark.

He scoffs. "You're getting better, but don't push it."

You wiggle your ass back against his groin, smirking as he roughly clears his throat. "What if I want to?"

"Careful." you noted the dark flavour to the word. The game had changed.

He presses his nose into the nape of your neck and inhales deeply. "Mm, you smell like him. Bet you thought you were being clever."

"I was."

Matt's grip tightens. "Oh angel, you should know better."

"Maybe I do…"

You shiver as the kiss of his soft lips is soon surpassed by edge of his teeth grazing over the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his voice dropping ridiculously low. "And, you're wearing my clothes…"

You choke down a moan as the graze turns to a nip, pinching and pulling the skin before his tongue laves over the heated redness. "You know what that does to me."

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry as a desert, between your legs was anything but. "Maybe I do."

He shoves you forward and you catch yourself on the edge of the wall with your hands, bracing yourself as Matt hooks his fingers in the waistband of his sweatpants and yanks them down and off over your shoes. Oh. Yes, that's what it does to him.

"Oh, no panties? It's no wonder I could smell you all the way across the city." He kicks his boot in between your feet making you shuffle them further apart. "Spread your legs, that's a good girl."

Your eyes almost roll back in your head as you hear the quiet but unmistakable sound of his zipper, his hand is warm, placed on the small of your arched back while the other smacks his cock against the swell of your ass.

"It's almost like you wanted me to catch you." He purrs, gliding the hard, swollen tip through your glistening folds. You instinctively push back, aching for him to sheath himself inside, but he holds you in place, content just to tease.

Matt smirks and smiles hearing how you whimper pitifully for him as he circles and rubs his cock around your clit and then presses the tip at your entrance, but no more.

"Hm, it's just like how you teased me sweetie, had me running in circles to get to you. It's only fair."

You huff in frustration. "Matt, please."

When he lines up and thrusts inside you up to the hilt your legs almost give out.

"How's the view?" He asks the question so casually, like he's not scooping an arm around your middle, holding you to him as he slowly drags his cock almost all the way out before punching back in forcefully making you yelp.

"It's- oh god, it's…" the words won't come, he feels too fucking good, he's giving you exactly what you needed from him. You let your head fall back and lean against his shoulder, reaching behind and trailing your hand down to trace the edge of his mask. Your fingers drag over his full lips and he licks them into his mouth, catching them on his teeth and sucking as you pull them out.

"Fuck, Matt…"

"Does Frank know your little game? Does he know you're not even taking our training seriously?" You shake your head pathetically as he keeps plowing into you. "That all his pampered princess wants is to get her needy little pussy fucked?"

"Oh goddd…" you're halfway gone and you know he's barely started. He rucks up the shirt you're wearing, his large hands cupping your breasts, half-gloved fingers pulling and twisting at your peaked and sensitive nipples making you moan out into the night sky.

"Look at you sweetie, Daddy's favourite cock-drunk slut so desperate for attention. You know he's gonna ask me how you did, if you're getting better," Matt slides a hand down your stomach and between your legs to play with you, spreading your slick wet essence over and around your swollen clit, focusing on the movement and pressure that makes you shake and struggle in his hold.

"...and you know what i'll tell him?"

You gasp and shake your head again, lolling it back against him as he stokes your desire into an intense inferno.

"That you're a dirty, shameless, depraved fuck toy, just begging to be used." He punctuates each adjective with hard thrusts that have you ruining your nails clawing against the brick to stop from falling forward. "Am I right?" he asks, but he's not even looking for an answer, knowing that every word is pulling you apart, making you weak and crave more of this humiliation. Nonetheless, he grips your hair, twisting his wrist and pulling your ear toward his lips.

"Answer me, sweetheart." He growls, flooding your body with heat and slick and coaxing a wavering moan from your pretty throat.

He releases your hair and settles his grip around your neck, stilling the movement of his hips. "Slut." He whispers it sinfully, he knows it's not something he should be calling you but in that moment he groans, lips crooking up in a snarl as he feels you squeezing him from the inside in reaction to the degrading name.

"Oh you like that, desperate little bitch."

You whine, you don't know what else you can do but let the sharpness of this double-edged sword sink into you, drawing its sweet rivers of blood out. You were the one holding the whetstone after all.

He resumes fucking you, slower than before but with strokes so deep and full you're not sure how you're going to get back down off this rooftop when he's done with you. You lean forward over the top of the wall, forced by his hand between your shoulder blades, the change in angle making your eyes glaze over as your mouth drops open so your repeated cries of pleasure have somewhere to go.

Matt's beginning to lose control, smacking his palm down on your ass hard before he pulls out and grabs your arm, picking you up and hauling you to the door at the opposite side. You grasp at the skintight black shirt that does nothing to hide his strength as he manhandles you against the cool metal of the door, hiking your leg up and wrapping it around him as he sinks back inside you. His lips meet your own for the first time that day and it's far from pretty. Teeth tug and scrape at each other's lips and tongue, the riot of what you would never call kisses muffling the mess of other sounds that are assaulting Matt's ears - the creaking of the door as he seemingly tries to fuck you through it, the slick wet squelch of your pussy, and the breathless nonsensical pleas from you, all pushing him further and harder from grace.

"Fuck kitten, I'm gonna fill you up, is that what you want?"

Your eyes are so tightly closed, you're barely able to hang on to him with the way he's rutting into you so hard, yet you manage to nod weakly against him, moaning long and loud as he calls you out again.

"Filthy whore."

He presses the dirty words into your heated skin, gasoline on the already raging fire within you.

"My fucking perfect little slut… that's right angel, my dirty fucking girl."

You feel his teeth break the skin. It's just on the border of too much and just right. He's never been so wicked and wild with you before, mocking but so possessive and so you let go with a cry, arching and writhing within his grip, making good on his promise as he spills deep into you with a deep feral grunt, the motion of his thrusts unforgiving, unceasing until you're both entirely spent.

When he lets you down you almost drop to your knees but he catches you, the fleeting thought of letting you clean him up put away for another time. He pushed you hard this time and the last thing he wants is to push you away. He pulls off the mask letting it fall to the floor as he assesses you.

"Are you alright? Sweetheart, m'sorry if I hurt you." He tips your chin up gently with his fingers and you blearily smile, the soft caress of his lips on your cheek a warm and comforting contrast to the torrid minutes before.

"You could never hurt me, Matt."

Once he's satisfied you're okay, he retrieves your discarded clothes and helps you dress after he tucks himself away. He holds you close in at his side, half carrying you back home where he runs you a bath, treating you like a princess until you hear Frank getting back.

He knocks on the door and sticks his head round, greeted with the tender view of Matt washing your hair. "Alright if I come in?"

"Hi Frankie." you purr appreciatively as he pecks you on the lips, and you feel Matt sweep your hair forward to hide the purpling mark at the side of your neck.

"So how'd it go," he aimed at Matt. "our girl show you a thing or two?"

"She sure did." Matt replies, carefully massaging the shampoo suds into your scalp.

"I thought it went really well, even if he did catch up to me" you added, humming contentedly as Matt's fingers work their magic. "I'm getting better, faster too."

Frank grins at you as he cuffs Matt playfully on the side of his jaw. "S'that so? Great job darlin', bet you're tired huh? How 'bout you come 'n cuddle up with me when you're done, yeah? Wanna hear all about it."

When Frank leaves the bathroom Matt leans over you, pulling your hair aside to lick and kiss over the bite. "Our little secret." He breathes against your ear, helping you up out of the tub and wrapping you in a huge fluffy towel.

"Mm, Matty…" your fingers brush lightly over the bruise. "are there any other secrets you'd like to share with me?"

Matt pulls you into his embrace with a grin. "Oh angel yes, but all in good time."

Matt tags:

@phoebe-danvers @saintmurd0ck @mindidjarin @castlesnchurches @peterman-spideyparker @pastafossa @mattmurdocksscars @mattmurdockspainkink @marvelswh0re @munsonownsmyass

@hellskitchenswhore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @briefcasejuice @shedaresthedevil @freshabogados @e-dubbc11 @father4giveme @idrinkcoffeeandobsess @imperfxctly-me @stress--relief @murnsondock @stupidthoughtsinwriting @whistle1whistle @tea-and-wine @emiemiemii @imherefordeanandbones @m0nster-fvcker @creatingjana @echos-muses @babykaz

[vivifriend]

WIP Wed... oh it's Thursday

:D Had a long day of staring at nothing yesterday so you get snippets today. I was tagged by @thequeenofthewinter and @pitiable-arisen. Thank you both! 💖

As it is, now Thursday, consider this a open tag to everyone who wants to share something. ^_^ Seriously, feel free to yell at me about what you're working on. I love discussing projects with people.

For my snippet we're pulling from 'Careful What You Wish For' again. (you know, the short 5k work so I could get to know Lewin's mother? That one? Yeah..., it's 25k. It'll probably be closer to 30k when I'm done with editing. Why I'm like this, I have no clue).

But have some writing:

By the time they rode into Evermore, Ileana hated all three of her brothers, and Edrien in equal measure. Swinging down from Ivy, she took a moment to lean against the mare and let feeling return to her legs. The last three days had seen the least amount of resting, and the greatest amount of snow. To top it off, she was tired, reeked of road dust and sweat, and a small skirmish with bandits had seen a hole torn in her favorite shirt.

Taking a long breath, letting the scent of horse and leather soothe her agitation, she plastered a smile on her face and turned toward the ugly building in front of them.

It was two stories, built of a light brown wood that hadn't seen a lick of whitewash or paint in what Ileana guessed was decades, the windows propped open by sticks, a thin layer of snow on the edges souring her hopes for a comfortable habitation.

And standing on the steps, watching them with the same keen eyed gaze Edrien sported, was an Orc woman in heavy steel armor, her arms crossed over her chest, a sneer on her face.

"Edrien. You promised me fighters. You brought mangy pups."

"Akgruhl! You would not believe how irritating it is to shepherd four siblings cross-country without them getting at each other's throats."

She tilted her head, braids sliding to the side. "Do I need to remind you of our trip from Kvatch to Taneth?"

"Please don't," he said, reaching a hand up to rest on the back of his neck. "In order, from oldest to youngest, we have Sorais, Theo, Karic, and Ileana."

"Have they had any training?"

"Some! I haven't shirked my duties that badly."

Ileana frowned, shaking her head. "Where can we put the horses?" she asked.

Akgruhl's expression softened slightly. "Good to think of your animals first. Edrien, how solid are these mounts?"

"They're good," he said. "Nary a spook."

"Define nary," she countered. "How were they two nights ago specifically?"

He grinned, Ileana giving him a slightly confused look. What does that matter?

"Sorais' horse, Coal here, got a little aggressive but settled after a few moments. Other than that, not even an ear flick."

Two nights ago Secunda was full. Was there trouble nearby? Or... werewolves? I don't remember hearing any howling.

Akgruhl rolled her shoulders back and came off the porch, heading toward Ileana. "How old are you?" she demanded.

"I turned eighteen two weeks ago," she responded. A day that normally would have been celebrated with feasting and dancing. She grimaced, burying her feelings of resentment.

"Uh-uh," Akgruhl snapped. "Don't bury your feelings," she ordered. "What we hunt preys on people who hide what they feel. Because it makes them vulnerable."

"How does hiding weaker emotions make you vulnerable?" Karic demanded, moving in close.

"Simple," a new voice called, a hooded and armored Khajiit rising into a crouch above them, before leaping off the roof, catching herself on tree branches before leaping the rest of the way to the ground. Her eyes glowed red in her hood, and Ileana took an involuntary step back, Ivy snorting her displeasure.

[freesiriusblack]

Reconnection

I had to get my daydream down in words. All sugar no spice, please be gentle, this is my first time writing anything not for school or D&D. Please let me know what you think (if you like it, hah).

You close your eyes and still your breath before walking through the double doors of the Great Hall, attempting to appear as confident as possible; with a straight back and swift stride. Eyes locked ahead of you on the long staff table and short stool with a battered sorcerer’s hat resting on it, you avoid meeting the gaze of any one person, lest your rising anxiety get the better of you. 

Sitting down on the stool as instructed, the hat is softly placed on your head. Now face-to-face with the crowd, you can’t help but scan the faces of your new classmates. As you take in the far table decorated in green and silver, you feel a sudden, solid lump in your throat. Father was right, the boy you knew eight years ago is attending the same school you’ve been transferred to from Ilvermorny. 

“Ah, you’re quite intrigued with more than magic and your studies. Remember to focus during your short time here, and you’ll go as far as you ever desire. You will best be prepared in…”

“SLYTHERIN”

Now focused on the boy with the blonde hair, you walk along the bench towards him, careful to keep a controlled pace. In a swift motion you gently place your hands on his shoulders, lean in and whisper as quietly as possible “Do you remember me?”

“Of course, I never expected you to be here, though.”

“I’m glad, let’s talk properly later. I’ve missed you.”

You squeeze his shoulders and quickly kiss one of the marks on his cheek as you turn and walk towards the very end of the table, immediately pulling out a book to do your best with ignoring every face staring and whispering in your direction.

Ominis could feel his face flushing as she walked away from him. It had been so long since he’d met her, they were small children at that time but her voice was unmistakable. 

“Are you going to tell me what that was all about?” Sebastian demanded more than asked, “and while you're at it, how I can have someone say ‘hello’ to me like that.” he joked, attempting to lighten his tone while Ominis sat with his face down and brow furrowed. 

“Later, and no.” he said abruptly as he rose to his feet, “where did she go? I need to speak with her now.”

“She went to the very end of the table on our side, doesn't seem too keen to talk to anyone else.” Sebastian observed, “You’d better introduce me to her later!” he half-shouted after his friend. 

“Me too!” Imelda piped up as Ominis passed by, making his face flush again.

He hoped it wasn’t too late to make amends for his silence after all this time. 

~

Ominis’ father frequently brought him along for any extended time away on business so as to introduce Ominis to Wizard Society early. “It’s important for others to know you now, so they are fond of you later, one day you will need them.”

One of these trips stood out in particular. A Transcontinental Wizarding Summit several years ago. There weren’t usually other children at such events, but this time there had been one other, a girl from America. He vividly remembered her first approaching him while he sat on the floor in the furthest corner of the room. He had been able to hear her fast, echoing steps as she ran toward him from the other side of the large ballroom. 

Stopping directly in from of him, she started speaking rapidly while trying to catch her breath at the same time. 

“Hi! What’s your name? Is your father here, too? Will you be here the whole week? Do you want to be friends?”

He sat quietly for a long moment, trying to process the sudden string of questions. He felt awkward at her enthusiasm, he hadn’t spent much time around any other children. At his pause she sat down next to him. 

“I’m Ominis…” he said in a small voice. Forgetting the questions in the middle he responded to her last, “I suppose we can be friends.”